The Family Had Split, Why Should I Care if They Go Broke? - Chapter 8

Today, when Xu Zhichun went up the mountain, she had no intention of bringing potatoes and sweet potatoes back just yet. Claiming she found them in the mountains would be ridiculous—it would treat the locals like fools.

Generations of people had roamed these hills; everyone knew more or less what grew where.

They might not be able to name every kind of wild grass, but potatoes and sweet potatoes were crops with distinctive features. Potato flowers were obvious—if they existed here, someone would have noticed long ago. Sweet potatoes were even harder to miss; a single plant could spread a thick blanket of vines, and there was no way such a sight could escape the villagers’ eyes.

No, today Xu Zhichun planned to gather fresh bamboo shoots and mushrooms to try.

Her fresh-goods warehouse had some already, but if she found even one mushroom in the wild, she’d have an excuse to pull out ten jin from storage.

With that in mind, she wasn’t especially eager in her search for mushrooms. Still, luck was with her—she found a small patch of red-capped mushrooms and pine mushrooms, then gathered some straw mushrooms too.

Bamboo shoots were even more abundant this season—impossible to harvest them all. She dug only about six or seven jin, husk and all, since the shells could be fed to pigs.

By the stream at the foot of the mountain, the wild grasses were especially lush and tender. She picked some as well—ragweeds for the day.

While gathering ragweeds, Xu Zhichun stumbled upon konjac; her eyes lit up.

Everyone here knew it was poisonous, so no one ate it. But she knew it could be turned into konjac tofu—delicious whether served cold, stir-fried with vegetables or meat, or cooked with chicken hot pot. If she used only the white part of the root to make konjac powder, she could create snow-white konjac noodles—crispy, chewy, and flavorful whether stewed, stir-fried, or boiled.

Xu Zhichun decided—konjac tofu it would be.

It was something she could make now, simple to prepare, yet something no one else here knew how to do. The raw material was plentiful, practically endless.

No one wanted it, and here by the stream at the mountain’s foot, she found more than ten mu of the stuff. 

And this was only one location—there was more elsewhere.

Without hesitation, she carried her basket home, dropped off the bamboo shoots, mushrooms, and ragweeds, then grabbed her basket and hoe again to go dig konjac.

Konjac grew anywhere without fuss; she easily dug half a basket’s worth, each root bigger than a rice bowl.

The more she dug, the more she found—almost addictive.

If her small frame could carry more, she would have kept going.

With half a basket of konjac on her back, she went to the river first to wash them clean before heading home.

They had no well at home—fetching water meant carrying it by shoulder pole, a tedious chore.

Still, her warehouse had endless crates and barrels of bottled water. If she didn’t feel like hauling water, she could always dip into that.

As she was scrubbing the konjac, she suddenly heard her eldest aunt-in-law, Lady Zhang, exclaim, “What are you washing? Taro? Doesn’t quite look like it.”

Another woman chimed in, puzzled. “Yeah, looks like taro but… isn’t. Zhichun, is that edible? Why’d you dig so much of it?”

Xu Zhichun cursed her luck inwardly but stood up with a bright smile to greet them. “Eldest Aunt and Aunt Hua.”

Aunt Hua seemed to be the wife of Old Sixth Lu. Xu Zhichun didn’t know the Lu family well and had little contact with her. But from how chummy Aunt Hua seemed with Lady Zhang, and from the blunt, probing look in her eyes, Xu Zhichun didn’t like her one bit.

Since she planned to make and sell konjac tofu, it wasn’t something she could hide forever. She said, “This is konjac.”

Lady Zhang blinked in confusion. “Konjac?”

Aunt Hua’s eyes lit in recognition. “Ah, so that’s why it looked familiar—it’s ghost taro! Someone in the village once thought it was edible, got poisoned, and nearly died. Why’d you dig so much?”

“In my hometown, we call it konjac,” Xu Zhichun replied. “So, here you call it ghost taro? Back home, there’s a snack made from this plant—I want to try making it here.”

She wasn’t a local—Liang Minglang had brought her from elsewhere. People said her family lived far away. Since Liang Minglang and his brother had lost their parents young, and he’d found his own wife, the eldest and second uncles had happily washed their hands of arranging his marriage. No one cared where Xu Zhichun came from—better for them not to get involved.

Otherwise, it wouldn’t have looked good for a man’s own uncles to neglect his marriage after his parents passed.

Lady Zhang sneered. “And if you get poisoned—”

But then a thought struck Lady Zhang: If Xu Zhichun died from it, all the better. She quickly changed her tone. “Well, if you want to make it, go ahead.”

Xu Zhichun nodded. “Mm. I have to think about the future. If I can make it work, I could sell it for some money.”

Lady Zhang’s expression turned downright gleeful—if this poisonous thing killed a few people, Xu Zhichun would be arrested and executed. “Hehe, then go ahead and sell it. You’re really getting capable, aren’t you?”

She made no effort to hide her malice—her little calculations were written all over her face.

Xu Zhichun couldn’t be bothered. She smiled humbly. “I have to raise Mingxuan. I can only grit my teeth and push forward.”

Lady Zhang gave a cold snort and deliberately moved away to wash clothes far from her, as if afraid the poison might contaminate her.

Aunt Hua’s eyes darted, a smirk playing at her lips. “Oh, Zhichun—don’t tell me that after you failed to die last time, you’ve decided to try again?”

Xu Zhichun felt a wave of disgust. Her voice went icy. “None of your business.”

Aunt Hua let out a loud, cackling laugh. “Look at that—she’s mad! Hahaha!”

That was the last straw. Xu Zhichun scooped up a handful of water and flung it at her. Water splashed across Aunt Hua’s face and clothes. She sputtered in outrage. “You little wretch! What are you doing?!”

Xu Zhichun’s voice was cold as steel. “I should be asking you that! Have I wronged you somehow? Do you think it’s funny that I was so grief-stricken I wanted to die with my husband? Do you think it’s funny that I’ve picked myself up to raise my husband’s younger brother? You think that’s a joke? Are you trying to drive me to my death, or what? If you’re so sure, fine—let’s go to the chief right now and settle this! Come on!”

As she spoke, she reached to grab Aunt Hua and drag her toward Chief Liang’s house.

Aunt Hua, of course, refused to go, but she also didn’t dare provoke her further. She angrily yanked her arm free. “Who’s going crazy with you?”

She snatched up her basket of dirty laundry and stalked off to wash elsewhere, shooting Xu Zhichun a venomous glare.

Xu Zhichun calmly crouched back down to wash the konjac.

Lady Zhang stared at her, eyes wide in surprise. After a moment, she began to scold. “Aunt Hua is your elder—how can you talk to her like that? Don’t you have any manners?”

Xu Zhichun had no patience left for her. “Juniors have their roles, and elders have theirs. A real elder is kind, caring, and looks after the younger generation. Someone who rips open wounds for a laugh and schemes with malice—what kind of elder is that? That’s just an old hag!”