Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The Chen family owned two mule-drawn carts: one was a flatbed wagon for hauling goods, and the other, similar to those seen in historical dramas, had a wooden canopy. This same canopied cart had been used for the trip back to Wang Village last time. Today, Uncle Chen was absent, so Little Liu Zi, responsible for purchases, drove the cart. Wang Ying, Chen Qingyun, and Tian Mama rode inside. It's worth noting that Little Liu Zi is Tian Mama’s son.

The mule cart jolted along the dirt road. Without shock absorption, the bumpy ride made everyone’s skin itch. Chen Qingyun, however, didn’t mind the discomfort. She was too excited, eagerly leaning out the window to look around—she had never been to the estate before.

“Miss, please come sit down. Be careful, or you might fall,” Tian Mama urged, her face pale as she held onto the cart's side.

“It’s fine, I won’t fall.”

Wang Ying also looked outside. As far as the eye could see, everything was green—the mountains, the water, and the young crops in the fields. It was refreshing at first, but after a while, it made his eyes strain.

It was the season for young crops to grow. Local farmers typically planted millet (yellow rice), foxtail millet, and soybeans in the wheat fields after the May harvest. However, double-cropping exhausted the land’s fertility, so the same field had to be left fallow for half a year every year or two.

People in this dynasty had already learned to use human and animal manure as fertilizer, but manure was limited. Only a few fields could be fertilized, and most farmers still relied on natural soil fertility and the weather for their harvests.

“Qing Yun, do you know what’s planted in these fields?”

Chen Qingyun shook her head. “Do you know, sister-in-law?”

“Look at that field with the darker green—that’s millet. The lighter green next to it is foxtail millet, and the ones with round leaves are soybeans.” The climate in northern China was dry, so rice was rarely grown there.

“Wow, how can you tell them apart?”

Wang Ying had studied this in his previous life, but of course, he couldn’t say that. “I’ve done a lot of farming back home, so I can tell at a glance.”

Tian Mama glanced at Wang Ying, wondering what the mistress was thinking, letting a village boy like Little Geer take charge. It annoyed her to see him acting so self-important. She worried that Liu Zi might lose out on benefits from his procurement tasks later.

Suddenly, the cart hit a large pothole, jolting all three passengers. Wang Ying and Chen Qingyun were fine, but Tian Mama, caught off guard, fell face-first.

The two quickly helped her up. Cursing, she lifted the carriage curtain. “You little pest! How are you driving? Are you trying to shake your old mother to death?”

Liu Zi didn’t dare talk back and could only slow down. It was almost noon by the time they reached the estate.

They hadn’t sent word ahead, so no one came to greet them when they entered the estate. This estate was called Chen Manor, similar to Wang Village, with about a hundred households.

The surrounding fields all belonged to the Chen family. Because the fourth master of the Chen family had passed the imperial exams and become a *juren* (provincial scholar), these lands were exempt from land taxes, but the residents still had to pay poll taxes.

Last year, the poll tax for one male was 23 cash coins. It might not sound like much, but for a family with five or six males, it added up to over a hundred cash coins. For tenant farmers relying on the land and weather, this was a significant expense.

The mule cart stopped at Manor Head Chen’s home. Through the low fence, they could see earthen houses inside. An old woman sat in the yard, cutting grass to feed the ducks. She was startled when she saw the cart and quickly stood up to welcome them.

“Is the landowner here?”

Liu Zi held the reins. “Whoa~ The Second Young Lady and the Young Master’s husband are here.”

The old woman immediately dropped to the ground to kowtow.

Wang Ying quickly jumped down and helped her up. “Please, ma’am, don’t do that. Get up quickly.” This old woman was Manor Head Chen Xi’s mother. By seniority, Wang Ying should address her as Granny.

The old woman stood up and discreetly looked Wang Ying and Chen Qingyun over with her cloudy eyes. “You’ve come such a long way. Second Young Lady and Young Master, you must not have eaten yet. I’ll have the children call someone to prepare some food for you.”

Wang Ying was indeed a bit hungry. The breakfast he’d eaten earlier had been mostly digested during the journey, so he didn’t refuse.

“Just something simple will do.”

The old woman nodded happily. “I’ll have the children call them back. Da Ya, Huzi, go to the fields and call your grandparents back!”

“Yes!” Two four- or five-year-old children ran out of the house, their straw sandals clattering as they hurried toward the fields.

“Please come inside and rest. I’ll get you some water.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

The thatched cottage was low and somewhat dark inside, but it was tidy. The main house had three rooms: the middle served as both the kitchen and common room, while the two side rooms were bedrooms.

The kitchen was blackened by smoke, and the bedrooms were very simple, with only a bed and a few storage chests. Many straw ropes hung on the walls, probably twisted during the off-season. With the windows open during the day, the room was well-ventilated and free of strange odors.

It was Chen Qingyun’s first time in the countryside, and she looked around curiously at everything. Wang Ying pulled her to sit on the wooden plank bed.

He noticed something: although winters in northern China were cold, with temperatures below freezing, *kang* (heated brick beds) would be much warmer. Yet, both in Wang Village and Chen Manor, people used wooden beds. Wealthy families mostly used braziers for warmth in winter, while the poor could only huddle under quilts in bed. Had the *kang* not yet spread from the north?

As he pondered, Granny Chen brought in two bowls of water. “Young Lady, Young Master, please have some water.”

Chen Qingyun took the clay bowl and brought it to her lips, but the sour smell almost made her vomit. “What is this smell?”

The old woman was startled and quickly said, “Is the water not good? How about I have Xi Zi pick some fruit for you later?”

Wang Ying quickly reassured her, “It’s alright. Qing Yun might not be used to the water here.”

The truth was, the rough clay bowls tended to accumulate food residues, and the hot summer weather caused them to ferment, producing a sour smell. Villagers were used to it and didn’t find it strange, but Chen Qingyun, accustomed to porcelain, couldn’t stand the odor.

Wang Ying gently patted Qing Yun’s arm. “Just bear with it. This is how things are in the village.”

After a while, hurried footsteps sounded in the yard. Manor Head Chen Xi and his wife, née Yang, returned, along with their three sons and eldest daughter-in-law.

“The landowner is here! Why didn’t you send word? We haven’t prepared anything,” Chen Xi said with a smile as he walked in. He was of average height, his skin tanned and shiny from years working in the fields. He wore coarse short robes and looked honest and simple.

Wang Ying and Chen Qingyun stood up. “Manor Head Chen.”

Chen Xi immediately started to kneel and kowtow, but Wang Ying reached out to stop him. “There’s no need for such formalities. By seniority, I should call you Uncle.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Chen Xi said, unsure how to address Wang Ying since they had never met.

Tian Mama cleared her throat. “This is the newly married Young Master of the family.”

“Young Master.”

Wang Ying nodded. “Manor Head, please don’t stand on ceremony.”

“Yes,” Chen Xi replied, though he remained tense, unsure of Wang Ying’s temperament and afraid of offending the landowner.

Chen Xi’s wife, standing at the door, whispered, “The landowner hasn’t eaten yet. I’ll go kill a chicken.”

“No, don’t go to so much trouble.”

Chen Xi quickly added, “It’s no trouble. They’re young chickens—they’ll be tender and soft after stewing for half an hour.”

What Wang Ying meant was that it wasn’t necessary—rural families relied on their chickens for eggs and extra income, and he felt bad about eating one of their chickens. But just then, a sharp chicken squawk came from outside, and he swallowed his words.

“Da Shun, go fetch that piece of cured meat from the storeroom and stew it together later. Second Brother, you go to Li Village to buy half a *jin* of wine.”

“No need for wine, none of us three drink.”

Chen Xi saw that the three truly didn't drink and dropped the matter.

“Why didn't Young Master come along? The last time I saw him was at the master's funeral, and three years have passed in a blink.” The manor was isolated from news, and he didn't know that Chen Qingyan had fallen seriously ill.

Wang Ying casually made up an excuse, “Qing Yan has come down with a cold; he'll come along next time.”

“Young Master must take good care of his health. When you leave later, take some earthworms back. Wash them clean and soak them in water to drink; they're very effective for treating colds.”

Wang Ying nodded, “Manor Head, please sit and talk. We didn't come for anything major this time, just wanted to see how the crops in the fields are doing. The family has been busy these past few years, and mother-in-law has been weak and hasn't been able to come. Now that I'm in charge, I should make the trip personally, also to put faces to names.”

Chen Xi rubbed his hands on his pants and sat on a small wooden stool, “Young Master could have just sent word, and we would have gone to pay our respects to you. It's troublesome for you to make such a long trip.”

Mentioning the fields, he relaxed a bit and began to introduce to Wang Ying, “Our manor now has twenty-seven *qing* (a unit of area) and sixty *mu* of fertile land, and ten *qing* and seventeen *mu* of lower-quality land.”

“So much!” Wang Ying had always thought there were only over two hundred *mu* of land. One *qing* is ten *mu*, so that adds up to over 370 *mu*!

“Yes, all these lands are registered and can be exempt from land tax each year. Many families on the manor have also opened up additional wasteland. These lands are not registered, so the land tax has to be paid by themselves, and we don't collect grain from these.”

This is equivalent to the later private plots. The land opened up by farmers themselves is mostly lower-quality land, only suitable for growing beans, which have low yield. After paying the land tax, there isn't much left, and it would be too much to collect rent on top of that.

Wang Ying nodded understandingly, “What is grown on the fertile land?”

“Wheat and millet.”

“Only these two?”

Chen Xi said, “Wheat can be sown after autumn and harvested the following spring. Millet yield is a bit higher than broomcorn millet, so everyone prefers to grow millet.” Another reason is that millet makes soft and glutinous rice, suitable for both the elderly and children, while broomcorn millet can only be used for porridge.

After talking about the fertile land, he brought up the lower-quality land on his own, “Lower-quality land mostly grows beans. Fertile and lower-quality land aren't fixed; some land loses fertility after long-term planting, yield decreases, and it gets classified as lower-quality land. After resting for a year or two, when it recovers, it becomes fertile land again.”

Wang Ying nodded understandingly. The natural laws figured out by the common people over thousands of years are far more practical than those in books.

“This year's spring wheat harvest is slightly poorer than previous years because there was little snow in winter and drought in spring. But our manor has more fertile land, so the yield is better than other manors.”

Wang Ying hesitated to speak. His *Changfeng 3* is just suitable for such climate, but it's not the time to bring it out yet.

“The wheat hasn't been dried yet. In a few days, when the grain merchants from the town come, after selling the grain, I'll send the money to the master of the house.”

Newly harvested wheat cannot be eaten directly; it needs to be threshed and dried before being bagged for storage. Ancient times lacked advanced machinery, so common people mostly used flails (wooden farming tools) to beat the wheat off.

After chatting for a while, the food in the pot was ready. Farming families don't know how to make fancy dishes; chicken stewed with cabbage and radish is considered a substantial dish.

Yang picked out the meat and served a large full bowl to the table. The family also brought out the coarse flour they usually couldn't bear to eat, kneaded it into dough to make pancakes, and finally used lard to fry three eggs. This table of food was even more abundant than their New Year's Eve dinner.

“Young Master, Second Young Lady, please come to the table.”

“Why aren't the others here? There's so much food, call everyone to eat together.”

“There's still food in the pot; the women and children can eat outside.”

Besides Tian Mama, only Manor Head and his three sons sat at the lower end to accompany them. Seeing the two began eating, Chen Xi dared to pick up food, only choosing the radish and cabbage inside. Cooked with oil, it tasted much better than usual.

Chen Qingyun ate a few bites and put down her chopsticks. She was still bothered by the smelly earthen bowl, so she had no appetite for anything.

Wang Ying wasn't picky. This kind of stew made in a large pot is the most fragrant. His grandmother used to stew chicken for him like this, even the taste was similar.

While eating, a child's crying suddenly came from outside, along with a woman's suppressed cursing, “Are you a reincarnated hungry ghost? Can't you wait until the guests leave to eat?”