Chapter 7

Chapter 7

While Auntie Zhu and Zhao Xiaobao were having breakfast at the noodle stall, Old Man Zhao had already sold the eels.

He had taken Zhao Feng to the east side of town hoping to try his luck, but unexpectedly, a middle-aged man who looked like a steward stopped them halfway.

From his words, they learned he was a steward from a local restaurant. He had just come from the market and happened to be walking behind them. He was very interested in the large eel Zhao Feng had been muttering about all the way.

With someone actively inquiring, the old man immediately found a corner, lifted the lid of the wooden bucket, and showed him the large eel inside. After that day, his grandsons had scoured the family's fields and managed to catch over twenty more eels. Combined with the big one, the quantity was quite substantial.

However, eels were considered food for peasants' tables and weren't particularly valuable. The smaller ones of varying sizes were just throw-ins; the main item they wanted to sell was the big one.

Old Man Zhao smiled with a simple, honest expression, rubbing his hands together. "This big fella was caught by my grandson. They dug up the field ridge to get it, took a lot of effort. I'm not boasting, old man, but catching an eel like this takes luck. Who knows how long it's lived? The old folks in the village say it's just one step away from becoming a spirit, definitely a great tonic."

The steward couldn't help but reach in to grab it. Before he could even touch it, the large eel, which had been lying quietly in the bucket as if dead, suddenly twisted its body violently, making the wooden bucket thump loudly, full of vigor.

The steward was even more pleased.

"Old man, name your price. I want this big eel."

The delight on his face was impossible to hide. He took the talk of it becoming a spirit as just an amusing story, not taking it seriously at all. However, eel was warming and tonic, good for replenishing deficiency and boosting energy, and the meat was tender. He remembered the master's elderly grandfather had a taste for it. Buying this big one and sending it to the old residence, if it pleased the old master, would surely bring him benefits.

Old Man Zhao didn't really want to name a price himself. He had never sold eels before, so how would he know what they were worth?

Feeling unsure, he was reluctant to speak, worried he might get a bad deal or that his asking price might be too high and scare the buyer away.

He mumbled without saying anything. The steward glanced at him but couldn't discern his thoughts from his wrinkled old face, simply assuming he was timid and inexperienced. He said bluntly, "Old man, I won't bother weighing it. A flat price: I'll give you one *qian* of silver for this bucket of eels."

Hearing "one *qian* of silver," Zhao Feng's eyes lit up, then dimmed again.

Only one *qian*? He had thought it might sell for two.

Old Man Zhao silently placed the lid back on the bucket, shouldered the carrying pole, and said stiffly, "Please step aside. This old man is in a hurry and won't joke with the steward anymore." With that, he started to leave with Zhao Feng.

The steward hadn't expected him to refuse. He was stunned for a moment, then seeing the old man was really leaving and not just putting on an act, he quickly called out, "Wait! Hey, you, wait! If you're not satisfied with the price, we can still discuss it. Why leave just like that?"

He had to chase them for half a block before he could stop them, looking somewhat displeased. "You old man, what a temper. Who does business without discussion? No one just walks off in a huff like you."

Old Man Zhao stopped, deliberately putting on an air of ignorance and unreasonableness, stiffening his neck. "I'm just a peasant, what do I know about business? You're a great steward, only willing to offer one *qian*. It doesn't seem like you're serious about doing business."

"Although your item is rare, it's ultimately just a rustic product from the fields, something you can find everywhere. It's not that valuable. One *qian* I offer is already a very fair price." The steward felt this old man was rather troublesome. An ordinary farmer hearing he could get one *qian* of silver for a bucket of eels would probably be eager to sell immediately.

One *qian* of silver was not a small amount. One must know that farming families might not eat meat more than a few times a year. In town, twenty-five *wen* could buy a *jin* of meat.

A common, lowly thing found everywhere in the fields, being able to sell it for one *qian* of silver was already incredibly lucky. It was only because he met him; anyone else wouldn't have given it a second glance.

"Give me a real price, and I'll sell." Old Man Zhao didn't care what the steward was thinking. He thought to himself, if it were really found everywhere, why would you have stopped me and argued for so long?

Seeing him so stubborn, the steward felt somewhat uncomfortable but didn't lose his temper.

Since he could overhear the grandfather and grandson talking, it was naturally because they were heading in the same direction, both going towards the east side of town. After talking for so long, he had figured out that this old man was shrewd. No matter which small gate of those wealthy families in the east side he knocked on, as long as he didn't ask for an exorbitant price, he could probably sell this bucket of rustic goods.

In this world, there was no shortage of rich people. The wealthier the family, the more they valued "rare goods." Even if they didn't eat it, keeping it as a pet was a pleasure.

"Four *qian* of silver, not a penny more." The steward said stiffly. "Old man, think carefully. Even if you talk until you're blue in the face, it's still just a field eel. Eating it won't prolong your life. You won't lose out at this price."

Old Man Zhao seemed persuaded. After hesitating for a moment, he smiled with his honest, simple expression. "Alright, four *qian* it is. I'll sell it to you."

If not for the earlier incident, he would have definitely gone to the east side to try for a higher price. But now, he had several gold gourd leaves in his pocket, the kind only wealthy families would have, and he was feeling quite apprehensive. It was best not to go to the east side to avoid any trouble.

"Smart move." Seeing he wasn't insatiably greedy, the steward smiled, took out some scraps of silver from his pocket, counted them, and handed them over.

Since he hadn't brought a bucket, he asked Old Man Zhao to accompany him to the restaurant.

The old man also nodded in agreement. The money was already in hand; walking a bit further was nothing, and he was quite willing.

They didn't speak further on the way. Upon arrival, the steward didn't pay them any mind, just walked into the restaurant with his hands behind his back.

"Wait here. Don't go anywhere." A servant instructed, then took the wooden bucket to the kitchen.

After a short while, he returned with the empty bucket.

The deal done, Old Man Zhao didn't mind the other's cold attitude. He quickly left the place with Zhao Feng.

On the way back, the grandfather and grandson didn't stop to buy anything, hurrying all the way back to where they had separated earlier. From a distance, they saw Zhao Xiaobao sitting at the noodle stall, holding a large bowl and drinking the noodle soup. Old Man Zhao couldn't help but smile.

"Boss, four more bowls of plain noodles." He walked over with Zhao Feng and called out to the busy noodle stall owner.

Zhao Xiaobao had her whole head buried in the bowl. Hearing the voice, she quickly looked up. Seeing them, her little mouth, greasy from eating, broke into a wide smile. "Dad, Fengzi, you're back!"

"Dad, have you already sold them?" Zhu Shi hadn't expected them to return so quickly and couldn't help asking.

"Yes." Old Man Zhao took the hand towel from around his neck and wiped his sweat. The weather was really unbearably hot. "Met a restaurant steward on the road. Probably heard what the third boy was saying. After some questions, he bought them."

As she listened, Zhu Shi took out a handkerchief and wiped Zhao Xiaobao's mouth. She didn't ask how much they sold for, figuring it must have been decent. Otherwise, Dad wouldn't be willing to eat noodles in town, especially since they still had coarse grain cakes in the basket.

The mountain path from Wanxia Village to Tongjiang Town took four hours. They had set out at Yin hour (3-5 am), were delayed a bit on the road, and arrived in town close to noon. Adults could still endure, but children couldn't; they needed to eat something. They still had several hours of walking on the way back.

Normally, Old Man Zhao and Zhao Dashan walked faster and wouldn't need to spend so much time. That's why they never brought women and children to town on their trips—the journey was truly long, both time-consuming and strenuous.

While they were talking, Zhao Dashan, who had gone to the dock, also returned.

After the plain noodles were served on the table, the family could no longer bother with talking. They buried their heads and slurped down the noodles noisily.

They were truly starving.

After finishing a meal that could be considered either breakfast or lunch—coarse grain cakes paired with noodles—it was already noon. Not daring to delay any longer, they paid for the noodles and hurried to buy supplies.

First, they went to the pork stall. The oil jar at home was almost empty. Wang Shi had instructed before they left: regardless of whether they sold their goods or not, they must buy a piece of lard back.

Old Man Zhao, with the silver money in his pocket, felt warm inside. Unfortunately, they had come too late; the lard had sold out early in the morning.

Pork was twenty-five *wen* per *jin*. Thinking about how they had found treasure and made money today, and that coming to town wasn't easy, and seeing his little daughter looking at him with eager eyes—which melted his heart into mush—Old Man Zhao waved his hand grandly. "Boss, pick two pieces of pork belly for me. Cut one piece with more fat, four *jin*, and one piece with more lean meat, two *jin*. Make sure the weight is accurate."

"Don't worry, sir, I won't short you." The butcher hadn't expected such a big customer at noon when he was about to pack up. He immediately became extremely enthusiastic.

He reached over the board, picked through the meat, then took a large piece of pork belly with more fat. With a sharp cleaver, he accurately sliced off a strip.

Country folk lacked oil in their diet and preferred fatty meat over lean. The butcher made two cuts, one fatty, one lean. Old Man Zhao nodded in approval.

Six *jin* of pork belly cost one hundred and fifty *wen* right away. Old Man Zhao paid and haggled with the butcher until he got two large bones, scraped perfectly clean. These could be taken home, smashed, and used to make radish soup, which would also have some oiliness, barely counting as meat.

He put the meat in Zhu Shi's carrying basket. Next, they went to buy coarse salt. Upon asking, the price had increased. Originally thirty-eight *wen* per *jin*, it had now risen to forty-five *wen*—a jump of seven *wen*, which was quite significant.

Old Man Zhao's heart felt heavy. But not buying wasn't an option. Who knew if the price would rise or fall next time? No wonder common folks had a hard life. Seeing the drought this year meant poor harvests, they thought the court might reduce some taxes. But when it came time to pay the poll tax and various other levies, they realized they had hoped for too much—they still had to pay up. Take the salt price, for example. It didn't usually rise, but when disaster struck, hey, it started going up!

Who knows whose pockets were getting richer this time.

This instantly brought Old Man Zhao's somewhat elated heart—buoyed by the unexpected windfall—crashing back down to earth. He simply treated the eels as if they were free. Coming to town wasn't easy, so he'd buy more this time and not go out again soon. So he bought a full two *jin* of coarse salt, spending ninety *wen* in one go.

Next, they headed to the general store to buy two packs of maltose candy. Zhu Shi picked up some needles and thread. Before they'd left home, Wang Shi had specifically told them to buy a new pair of scissors. All these odds and ends came to another forty-two wen.

Including the earlier noodle expenses—plain noodles at five wen per bowl and shredded pork noodles at seven wen (anything with "meat" in it cost a pretty penny more)—the total came to twenty-seven wen.

Spending money was a cinch; earning it was the hard part. In just this short while, more than half of the money from selling the eels was gone.

Zhao Dashan and Zhu Shi winced at the expense. Even though it was their father who paid, watching those coppers fly out of his hand still made their hearts sink.

"Pa, that's about enough, ain't it? We should head back. Any later and we'll be caught out after dark," Zhao Dashan couldn't help but say.

Old Man Zhao thought about how they had eaten noodles in town while his wife and grandchildren at home were still drinking watery porridge. Perhaps the weight of the gold in his pocket gave him confidence. Something gotten for free felt unreal, and he wanted to turn it into something solid to feel more at ease.

"Let's go to the grain shop and buy a few catties of flour. When we get back, have your mother roll it into noodles, chop some meat for the topping, and we'll have a proper meal as a family." Old Man Zhao wiped the sweat from his face, his face crinkling into a grin.

Hearing this, Zhao Dashan immediately stopped worrying about the money and grinned, nodding. "That's good. The whole family can enjoy it together."

Zhu Shi also smiled broadly. "The young'uns at home will be tickled pink to know their grandpa was thinkin' of 'em."

The weather this year had been poor, and the crops in the fields weren't thriving. Neither the adults nor the children in the family had had a decent, filling meal. Only during the autumn harvest had they cut half a slab of cured meat and enjoyed two meals with some grease. Usually, except for Little Sister's food being prepared more carefully, everyone else mostly ate wild vegetables with thin porridge. Being half-full was already considered good; they didn't dare hope for more.

Naturally, they bought coarse flour. They couldn't afford fine white flour. Coarse flour was eight wen per catty, and they bought six catties, spending another forty-eight wen. With many mouths to feed at home, and since they were buying anyway, Old Man Zhao didn't skimp too much. Today, he was spending money like it was going out of style.

The baskets grew heavier, the purse grew lighter, but his heart felt increasingly satisfied.

And so, for this trip to town, a bucket of eels sold for four qian of silver, and buying this and that cost over three qian.

With only a few dozen copper coins left, Old Man Zhao, worn down by his precious daughter's sweet begging, happily bought her three sticks of candied haws.

Zhao Xiaobao contributed five wen, and he chipped in one wen, totaling six wen.

After finishing their shopping, they dared not delay any longer. They put a straw hat on Zhao Xiaobao, lifted her into the basket on Zhao Dashan's back, and under the scorching sun, the whole family left the town.