The Family Had Split, Why Should I Care if They Go Broke? - Chapter 26

Xu Zhichun smiled. “We’ve all agreed. Please, Uncle Chief, go ahead and make the announcement.”

“All right, all right!”

Xu Zhichun then smiled and mentioned the land purchase she intended to make.

Chief Liang was momentarily surprised, appraising her carefully. “You’ve made up your mind? If so, then buy it. Wasteland costs two taels of silver per acre. You must cultivate it within a year, or it will be repossessed. Starting next year, taxes are due—twenty wen or ten jin of dried soybeans per acre.”

“Only soybeans? Nothing else?”

“That’s the government rule—either dried soybeans or money.”

Xu Zhichun smiled. “Then I’ll buy it. Thank you, Uncle Chief, for taking the time to measure it for me.”

Chief Liang was delighted. “No problem. Aren’t you digging konjac this afternoon? I’ll measure it while checking it out. As for the plot behind your house, I’ll come by in the evening. Tomorrow we can go into town to handle the deed.”

Xu Zhichun hoped it would be as quick as possible. “Thank you, Uncle Chief.”

Chief Liang waved his hand. “No need for formalities!”

Meanwhile, Aunt Liang couldn’t help but pull her youngest son and daughter-in-law aside to whisper, “How much did you earn today?”

After hearing the whispered amount, Aunt Liang gasped and clutched her chest. She couldn’t handle it—her heart raced like a drum.

Her face full of smiles, she said, “Go on, go do your work. Don’t worry about anything at home, ah.”

Liang Mingliang grinned widely. “All right, Mother!”

Zeng Xiaoyan was a little puzzled. What did Mother mean? When had me and my husband ever worried about household matters?

Chief Liang banged the bronze gong. Soon, the villagers, familiar with the routine, gathered under the big locust tree.

“What’s going on?”

“No idea. Haven’t heard anything.”

“Hey, we’ll know about it at the locust tree. The chief doesn’t bang the gong for fun.”

“That’s true.”

When most people had arrived, Chief Liang stood on a high spot, lifted the gong, and struck it three times: Dang! Dang! Dang! The chattering villagers gradually fell silent, tilting their heads to look at him.

Chief Liang smiled. “Quiet now? Good. I’ll get to the point. It’s a good thing—Mingliang’s wife, Lady Xu, together with Qi Tian’s wife and our third son’s wife, are doing some small trade to earn a bit of money. They told me today they’re too busy to manage it alone. Everyone knows the lantern fruits on the mountain, right? They need the seeds. If you have free time, you can pick and sell them to these women. Just the seeds, cleaned, no dirt or grass. They’ll collect them each evening—four wen per jin.”

“Ah?”

The villagers erupted in chatter.

“Lantern fruits? You mean the ones I know? The ones kids play with? Can we really sell them?”

“Chief said they can, then they definitely can. Four wen per jin—that’s not little.”

“Chief, Chief! Really, four wen per jin? I’m going to pick some!”

“Ha! I know a place no one else does, a huge patch with tons of lantern fruits. I’ll go pick it!”

“Shh—kid, keep your voice down.”

Hearing that the lantern fruits could be sold, and at four wen per jin—remember, an egg only sold for one wen—wild fruits from the mountain could earn four wen per jin.

If you’re diligent and lucky, picking three or four jin a day—what a lot of money! It’s like having several egg-laying hens.

The villagers grew more and more excited.

Chief Liang shouted, “It’s real! Take as much as you can. If we ever stop buying, we’ll let you know a day in advance—don’t worry.”

“Good, good, good! With Chief saying this, why would we worry?”

“Yes, yes!”

The eager and clever villagers didn’t waste time. They slipped away, fetched baskets, pails, and small bags, took the energetic kids who were good at climbing, and got to work.

In just half a day, if luck was good, they could earn ten or more wen—maybe even a dozen.

Some nosy folks couldn’t help but ask, shamelessly probing.

“Chief. Chief, what are Lady Xu and the others doing with the lantern fruits? Are they eating them with that ghost taro?”

“Yes, how can this be eaten? Fried? Cooked in porridge? Tell us.”

“Exactly. We don’t know how to make it. We just want to understand. What if it’s poisonous and harms someone? That would be on us!”

“Ah, hearing this really makes me nervous.”

“Ha, I thought so. Money isn’t that easy to earn. I’m not taking this risk—too much trouble if anything goes wrong.”

Chief Liang had plenty of experience dealing with a few clever, sly, and brazen villagers.

He ignored all the nonsense and simply said, “Everyone is free to choose. If you want, go ahead. If not, that’s fine too. Alright, disperse.”

Chief Liang always acted this way. Those who got nothing out of him were disappointed but had no choice.

No matter what they said or thought, plenty of people were picking lantern fruits—it didn’t matter if they weren’t.

Xu Zhichun and Aunt Zhu’er had planned to pick lantern fruits that afternoon, but seeing countless villagers already up the mountain, they decided to dig konjac and let the villagers handle the fruits.

They could afford four wen per jin.

All four of them dug konjac together. It was much easier and more efficient. They decided to dig the amount needed for the day after tomorrow as well.

Chief Liang came in the afternoon to measure the land. Xu Zhichun had 53 taels and over 200 wen. Wasteland was two taels per acre—she decided to spend it all.

He measured the plot, marked the boundaries carefully, and recorded it as twelve acres, though it was actually around fifteen, so she got three extra acres.

Wasteland wasn’t valuable; surveyors usually gave a little extra.

Later, he measured the slope behind the yard, about fifteen acres in reality, but recorded fourteen acres.

The total cost was fifty-two taels, including deed processing and a small bribe to officials, around four qian1. After this, nearly all fifty-three taels were spent, leaving less than one tael.

But Xu Zhichun was very happy—thirty acres in total. A great deal.

No cash today? No problem—I’d have it tomorrow.

That evening, villagers who had picked lantern fruits gradually came to sell them.

Zeng Xiaoyan, Aunt Zhu’er, and Liang Mingliang stayed to help—checking, weighing, and paying. It was a bit chaotic at first, but soon everything ran smoothly.

Everyone was motivated to earn money. In one afternoon, three or four people could pick four or five jin, earning twenty wen at once.

Even small amounts—half a jin—brought in two wen.

Holding the heavy, slightly cool coins, the villagers finally felt the reality of earning money, their faces blooming with smiles.

The kids were ecstatic, jumping for joy. “I earned money! Haha! I really earned money!” “Me too! Me too! I earned money! My mother said I can have eggs tonight!” “I want eggs tonight, too!”

Some who hadn’t earned anything still came to watch. They felt a little jealous, pouting to show disdain.

The village’s notorious chatterbox, Aunt Hua, puckered her lips like a catfish and shouted, “I ask you, why do you need so many lantern fruits? And why the secrecy? Don’t tell me you’re really trying to harm someone!”