There were three wells in Dahe Village.

Half a month ago, two of them dried up, leaving only one to sustain the entire village.

Now, with the last well running dry, cries of despair erupted outside.

When the fields failed to yield crops, people could still survive by chewing on tree bark and eating wild grass.

But without water, there was no hope—no one to call upon, no way to survive.

The village chief listened to the wailing outside and sighed deeply. “Dashan Niang, the entire village’s hope rests on you now. I truly hope every word you said is true.”

“Uncle Lizheng, I would never joke about something like this,” Cheng Wanwan replied solemnly. “But I do have one small request.”

Lizheng straightened his back. If Dashan Niang had made no request at all, he would have been more uneasy, fearing that this was just a cruel illusion.

Raising hopes only to shatter them was a pain he could not bear.

Since Dashan Niang had a request, it meant that there was a high probability that there really was a water source in the mountains.

“Last year, when I separated from the Zhao family, I was given thirteen acres of land—only five were fertile, while the other eight were poor-quality soil that couldn’t produce good crops.”

Before Cheng Wanwan could finish speaking, Lizheng understood her meaning and immediately said, “Dashan Niang, if what you say about the water source is true, I’ll give you the most fertile land in the village. However, fertile land is expensive—it’s priced at two taels of silver per acre…”

The most fertile land in the village belonged to Lizheng’s family, and Cheng Wanwan wouldn’t take something that belonged to others.

She said, “I want the barren land at the foot of the mountain. When the water from the mountain flows down, it will pass through that land. Over time, it will surely turn into fertile farmland. Many experienced farmers in the village understand this. I fear that soon, many will come to buy this land from you. Could you hold onto it for me for half a year? Once I have the silver, I’ll buy it. If I can’t afford it within six months, you can sell it to someone else.”

This request was hardly a request at all.

Last year’s locust plague had wiped out most of the village’s savings, and this year was just as dire—no one had extra money to buy land.

Lizheng immediately agreed. “I’ll price it as barren land—eight qian per acre. How many acres do you want?”

Cheng Wanwan felt a headache coming on. She wasn’t familiar with land measurement units. She could estimate three or four acres, but anything more and she lost track. Smiling, she said, “I’ll discuss it with my sons first.”

After she left with Zhao Ergou, Lizheng’s eldest son, Zhao Anjiang, entered the house. “Father, I just heard something about water? When did the mountain have water?”

Lizheng repeated Cheng Wanwan’s words.

“How is that possible?!” Zhao Anjiang looked skeptical. “Eldest Zhao’s wife has never done anything proper in her life, and you’re actually believing her?”

Lizheng’s second son, Zhao Anhe, added, “I think she’s just tricking us to get a few acres of land.”

“That’s just a dozen or so acres of barren land! What would she gain from tricking us?” Lizheng scolded. “Remember the bamboo shoots last time? Dashan Niang told us about them, and you all ate them happily. Why is it so hard to believe her now? Besides, we’ll know the truth tomorrow when we go up the mountain. What does she gain by lying for one night?”

Lizheng’s wife agreed. “Dashan Niang does seem different now. When Ergou came in just now, I almost didn’t recognize him. He looks cleaner and even a bit healthier.”

On their way home, Cheng Wanwan and Zhao Ergou passed by the barren land.

At the foot of the mountain, the land was covered in withered weeds.

Barren land was the hardest to cultivate, so no one in the village wanted it.

“Mother, this land is probably over thirty acres…” Zhao Ergou muttered as he calculated. “One acre is eight qian of silver, so two acres would be sixteen qian… Three acres would be two taels and four qian…”

Cheng Wanwan felt her ears ringing.

She massaged her temples and said, “Let me make it easier for you… One acre is eight qian, so ten acres would be eighty qian. Thirty acres would be three times that. So, what is eighty plus eighty plus eighty?”

Zhao Ergou’s head spun.

He started counting on his fingers but quickly ran out, so he crouched down and scratched numbers in the dirt.

Since he couldn’t write, he drew eight lines, then another eight, and then another eight.

Carefully counting them, he excitedly announced, “Mother! It’s 240 qian!”

Cheng Wanwan: “…”

If the numbers got any bigger, there wouldn’t be enough dirt for him to write on.

She really wanted to teach him faster calculation methods but reminded herself that the original owner of this body was illiterate—not even a single character.

So, she guided him. “Now, 240 qian—how many taels of silver is that?”

This question stumped Zhao Ergou.

After scribbling for a long time, he still couldn’t find the answer.

Cheng Wanwan grew impatient and calmly explained, “Ten qian equals one tael. Since 240 qian has twenty-four groups of ten, how many taels is that?”

“It’s twenty-four taels of silver!” Zhao Ergou’s eyes lit up. “Mother, you’re amazing!”

Cheng Wanwan didn’t want to look at his silly grin.

She simply said, “Twenty-four taels of silver is no small sum.”

Zhao Ergou fell silent. Their family had at most a few dozen copper coins—barely enough to buy a single acre, let alone thirty.

He hesitated and said, “Actually, the land we already have is enough. My older brother, San Niu, and I can handle it…”

“I’m not buying this land just for farming,” Cheng Wanwan replied. “Once I have the silver, I’ll explain my plan. Let’s go home.”

As they walked along the path, they saw many villagers gathering under the old pagoda tree.

“The well is dry. What did Lizheng say?”

“What can he say? He can’t magically make a new well appear.”

“Today we managed, but what about tomorrow when there’s no water?”

“The nearest village is Chengjia Village. It takes an hour to get there. Do you think they’ll let us take their water?”

“A bit further is Guihua Village. They have five wells, and only one has dried up. We might have better luck there…”

The villagers exchanged ideas.

There were places to fetch water, but they were far. A round trip would take nearly two hours and yield only two buckets—not enough for daily use.

Back home, the water bucket was completely empty. Fortunately, there was still half a pot of boiled water on the table, ensuring they wouldn’t go thirsty for the night.

Wu Huiniang nervously said, “I accidentally used up all the water while cooking. Should I go borrow some for you to wash up?”

Lately, her mother-in-law had become obsessed with cleanliness, insisting that everyone bathe daily. She was afraid of upsetting her.

But Cheng Wanwan simply waved her hand. “One night without a bath won’t kill me. You’re pregnant—go rest early.”

As night deepened, the family gradually fell asleep.

Before going to bed, Cheng Wanwan secretly spent a few coins in the marketplace and placed two eggs in the chicken coop.

Only then did she lie down to sleep.

At dawn, Zhao Sidang’s excited voice rang out in the yard: “Da Huang and Er Huang laid four eggs! They’re amazing!”

Da Huang was the slightly bigger hen, while Er Huang was the thinner one—names Zhao Sidang had spent an entire night thinking of.

Their names didn’t surprise Cheng Wanwan at all.

Given how casually the four brothers had been named, she didn’t expect the chickens to be any different.