Chapter 225

Chapter 225

As his feet stepped through the city gate, a wave of lively noise hit his ears.

Unlike the noisy crowd outside, the commotion within was the daily hum of life—wide streets, bustling yet tinged with a touch of antiquity. Shops lined both sides; near the gate, most dealt in cloth, antiques, and furs. The storefronts weren't overly lively, but neither were they deserted.

Wang Kangming led them away from the gate with practiced ease, winding through several turns into another street.

Here, small vendors hawked their wares, women with vegetable baskets, children perched on their fathers' shoulders, and even a juggling troupe surrounded by layers of onlookers. A spurt of water, a burst of flame, and cheers erupted from the crowd.

They passed two streets, taking in all sorts of lively sights: a monkey holding a bowl begging among the crowd, a little girl about Zhao Xiaobao's age balancing on one foot on a wooden stick, a ceramic bowl on her head, stacking more bowls higher and higher to applause—dropping one meant a lash from a whip.

And there were gorgeously dressed young women leaning languidly in doorways, beckoning to passing men with handkerchiefs, laughing behind their silks when flustered youths fled blushing.

"Four dear guests…"

Wang Kangming quickened his pace, carrying Zhao Xiaobao. The Zhao father and sons, pushing the cart a half-step behind, dared not glance around and hurried to follow.

"Oh, why are you running? How about half price? Or three or five pecks of grain…"

"Miss, don't call out like that—who are you calling a guest?" Wang Kangming couldn't help turning back to retort. His wife sometimes accompanied him into the city; if she got the wrong idea, he'd be in trouble. "We've never met—don't just make up a connection!"

"If you're willing, sir, we can meet right now…"

"I'm just a night-soil collector, not some gentleman!" Wang Kangming was terrified. He didn't dare linger, dashing through several streets before finally stopping.

He caught his breath, then handed Zhao Xiaobao to Old Man Zhao, pointing to the alley behind him. "My house is in there—second door after the right turn."

"You'll find your own lodging, so I won't meddle. We part ways here." He smiled and ruffled the little girl's hair; after carrying her all this way, he'd grown fond of her—he liked quiet children. "If anything comes up, come find me at home. If I'm not there, knock on my neighbor's door—I'll leave word. As long as it's not too difficult, they can lend a hand."

"Kangming, thank you so much." Old Man Zhao was a bit tongue-tied. He'd never owed anyone a favor in his life, but the Wangs hadn't taken any silver and had been so helpful—he didn't know what else to say. "Since we're here, would it be convenient to let my second and third sons help push the cart to your house?"

"No need for that." Wang Kangming glanced at the sky and shook his head. "It's getting late—why bother? You should wander a bit and find a place to stay first."

"Uncle, the flood outside has affected the prefectural city too. The north end is a mix of all sorts, but women never used to solicit at their doorsteps—that business was done in the brothels. Now they're at it, which shows times are hard." Knowing they'd come to buy grain, Wang Kangming didn't want to dampen their spirits, but reality was a cold bucket of water. Even if they seemed confident, he felt he had to add a word. "I don't have any connections to help you, so I'll just say this: if you have enough silver, even if grain prices are high, as long as they're willing to sell, don't hesitate too much."

His family's night-soil business meant they weren't short of grain yet, but if they couldn't offload their goods, it meant the fields outside were idle—the flood had hit hard.

A grain shortage was inevitable, and as the situation worsened, it would only grow more severe. Unless the flood receded and the official roads cleared, allowing outside grain merchants to bring in supplies, the crisis would only deepen.

But merchants chase profit; they won't do unprofitable deals, so grain prices would only rise.

The current high prices in the city were still the result of official pressure—a balance point that allowed ordinary people to sell their children and drain their savings just to get a meal, but not enough to make them give up and rebel outright.

He understood the situation well, but speaking too deeply with acquaintances was something he avoided. Their journey together had been pleasant enough, so he only offered a hint, hoping they'd take it to heart.

Don't want to buy, yet stingy with spending.

Old Man Zhao wasn't foolish; he understood. He thanked him again: "Kangming, I appreciate it. I know what to do."

After a moment, he added, "If we finish our business and leave the city first, what about the night soil you collected this trip? Can you transport it alone?"

"How could it be just me?" Wang Kangming pushed the cart, his round face crumpling into a smile. "We collect every day—an irregular schedule is bad for our health. My brothers and I have hired workers for years. Don't worry, it's no big deal."

With a wave, he turned and pushed the cart into the alley without looking back.

The Wang family had been building connections in the city for generations. By Wang Kangming's time, they no longer had to do everything themselves. Dirty, heavy work was hired out; they only needed to maintain relationships, hold their territory, and find ways to expand.

Watching his figure disappear into the alley, Old Man Zhao finally turned to leave.

...

These days had a lingering summer heat; they felt their faces baking under the sun again.

The sun shifted westward. The family of four walked in the opposite direction from the Wang home for most of an hour, entering an area where the streets were shabbier, houses lower, beggars clustered, and the common folk dressed in threadbare poverty.

Narrower streets were hazy with smoke from food stalls. Mixed among the vendors were people selling chickens and ducks on the spot—smelly and fragrant at once, utterly chaotic.

A team of bare-chested men carrying heavy sacks shuffled past, the contents hidden. A middle-aged overseer, sweating, urged them on: "Hurry, hurry—the master's waiting. Finish before dark and get your wages."

A skeletal beggar sat cross-legged against a wall, a chipped bowl before him crawling with mosquitoes. Foul odors wafted occasionally. The streets were dirtier than those near Wang Kangming's home—rats scurried, murky water flowed, filth and stench everywhere.

The family roamed several streets, occasionally ducking into alleys. Some led to other streets; dead ends made them turn back.

Scouting, memorizing routes, and picking up news and prices.

The area they were in was called Sifang Road—the poorest and most chaotic part of the north city, a place where night-soil collectors would lose money. If you don't collect, they'll dump it on the sly. Forget payment; the locals were used to squalor. In Old Man Zhao's words, if he didn't know it was the prefectural city, he'd think he'd wandered into a slum.

It truly was a slum. Labor here was the cheapest, and similarly, prices weren't as high.

From the Wang area all the way here, they'd asked around. There, a bowl of plain noodles cost eleven or twelve coppers—two or three coppers more than Zhao Dashan had paid in Qingzhou Prefecture. Old Man Zhao guessed it was due to the grain shortage; with grain prices rising, all food vendors followed suit. If they didn't, they'd lose money.

Noodles with sauce or meat were even more expensive—outrageously so.

Here, things were a bit cheaper, but only relatively. With costs what they were, cheaper meant smaller portions or more filler. The men weren't hungry, so they avoided people while Zhao Xiaobao pulled a bag of dry rations from the magical place. They ate as they asked prices, earning many dirty looks.

They couldn't bear to spend on noodles, but they bought plenty of snacks—candied hawthorns, malt sugar, red date cakes, preserved fruits...

Only in front of Zhao Xiaobao did money cease to be money, becoming just a broken stone to win her favor. Old Man Zhao was generous with his daughter.

Zhao Sandi carried a basket stuffed with snacks—an empty basket they'd taken from the magical place while weaving through alleys, covered with a bamboo lid so no one could see whether it was full or empty.

"I want a standalone courtyard—small is fine, old doesn't matter, but no other tenants in the yard."

Following Wang Kangming's advice, Old Man Zhao grabbed a woman who'd just bought vegetables. Before she could accuse him of impropriety, he quietly asked if she had any empty rooms for rent.

Of course she did—plenty! The woman immediately dragged them into a dark, stinking alley.

She shifted her basket to the other arm; she'd bought eggs today, quite a few, heavy and fragile. "One gate means one family—I understand your requirement. Don't worry, there are many such yards. As long as you're willing to pay, I can find whatever you want."

They twisted and turned until dizzy, finally stopping before a low-walled gate.

The woman told them to wait. She took out a key, opened the gate, quickly carried her eggs into the kitchen, then hurried out, locked the gate, and led them onward.

The alley was packed with houses, one right next to another, low and narrow. You could see into the neighbor's yard without a ladder—hardly any privacy.

Dirty children ran shrieking through the alley. Several women sat at their doors, picking vegetables or sewing soles. They greeted the woman and eyed the Zhao family behind her. When they heard they were looking to rent, their interest piqued.

"I have a room empty—are you renting long-term or short? The price is reasonable; we can discuss." A woman with a sewing basket stood up and chased after them. "Long-term is cheaper, short-term a bit more, but I'll provide water and can cook for an extra fee—no charge for firewood."

"Just tell me your requirements, we can negotiate…"

"Negotiate, my ass!" The woman leading the Zhaos turned angrily, pointing at her. "Shameless, grabbing business right in front of me? I don't have time to argue now—get lost, or I'll tear your mouth!"

"I wasn't talking to you!"

"Scram! They don't want your lousy room!" With no egg basket in hand, she rolled up her sleeves, ready to charge and fight if the other said another word.

The one trying to poach customers wasn't afraid; she jutted her chin and was about to rush over. They were used to quarrels and brawls—stealing business was just a skill. Money in your own pocket was real; face was nothing!

It's a big family, and one room might not be enough—they've got a daughter too. If they rent two rooms, that's a huge expense. Not just her, but other women, young and old, also got interested, chiming in to ask what kind of place they wanted, saying they had houses and could give a discount.

"They want a private courtyard home. You going to move your whole family out to make room for them?" the woman yelled, and the crowd went silent.

"Then you don't..." the first woman who had tried to grab the business started to say something but abruptly stopped, staring wide-eyed. "You're going to rent out the Yao family's house?! Are you crazy? That's their place—aren't you afraid the Yaos will come back and argue?"

"Let's survive first!" the woman growled softly, not bothering to argue further. She led Old Man Zhao and the others to a closed gate at the end of the alley.

Unlike the other houses in the alley, this one had slightly higher walls. Standing outside, without something to stand on, you couldn't really see inside. Most importantly, it was about thirty feet away from the nearest neighbor, with the courtyard walls far apart too.

The woman pulled out a key and opened the door. The wooden door creaked open with a sound that felt oddly desolate, as if no one had lived here for a long time.

They stepped inside. The yard was neatly kept, and behind the door was a small pile of swept-up dust covered with a broom, waiting to be disposed of.

"This is my close friend's courtyard. No one's lived here for half a year. I've been cleaning it regularly," the woman said, opening the door to the west side room and stepping aside to let them in first. "It's not hard to find rentals in the north of the city—lots of short-term workers here, usually pretty lively. It's just that with the floods outside, fewer people have come into the city, so some places have opened up."

Even though the north of the city was famously a slum, it was still part of the prefecture capital—every inch of land was precious. Without the droughts and floods, Fengchuan Prefecture had thriving waterways and many docks, and laborers flooding in from the countryside were as numerous as ants. A single person might save money by staying in a cheap inn dorm, but a family with children had to rent a place.

As lifelong city dwellers, the houses left by their ancestors became a ready source of income.

That's why those women had been so eager—normally there was no shortage of tenants, but now with empty rooms, they were counting the days they were losing money, and desperation made them shameless.

"You wanted a private courtyard, and I can guarantee you—if you hadn't run into me today, you'd have worn through your shoes and bloodied your feet and still wouldn't have found one," the woman said, clearly confident. She watched them inspect the house with a calm, unhurried air.

Old Man Zhao noticed that the doors to the main hall and the east side room were padlocked, showing the owner was meticulous. Many families only lock the main hall and just slide a wooden bolt on the side rooms.

The room wasn't big—a bed, a table and chairs, even an old wooden cabinet carved with birds. It was very clean. All in all, it looked tidy and comfortable, with no musty smell or rot.

Clean, quiet, private—it was exactly the kind of place he wanted to rent. He was already about 80% satisfied.

"Earlier, that young woman said..." Old Man Zhao began, worried that she wasn't the owner and might cause trouble that would reflect badly on the Hong family.

"Don't mind what she said—she doesn't count for anything," the woman cut in, knowing what he was about to say. "Before Sister Yao left, she entrusted the house to me and specifically cleaned up the west side room so I could rent it out and make some money." But she'd been reluctant and let it sit empty for half a year.

Today, running into them and hearing they wanted a private courtyard, she'd gotten angry and impulsively brought them here.

How could she not be angry? Back then, she hadn't been able to stop her friend from taking her children back to the countryside to serve that old harpy. Half a year without news, and now Yushan County had been hit by disaster—maybe they were all dead, all of them.

"You've seen the place. That's it. I only rent out the west side room. You can't enter the locked rooms. I'll open the kitchen door for you later—the firewood is free to use. I'll leave you four sets of bowls and chopsticks, and the stove is clean. But you'll have to fetch water from the well up front yourselves."

"I only brought you here because you're renting short-term. If it were long-term, I wouldn't—so as not to inconvenience the owners when they return." She looked a little forlorn for a moment, but quickly recovered. "Let me be clear: short-term costs more—one hundred and eighty wen a day, non-negotiable. I see you've got your daughter with you, so you're probably not the kind of classless country folk. I won't ask for a deposit. You can come and go as you please, as long as you don't damage anything."

If it weren't for the child, she wouldn't bother with three burly men at all—she wouldn't dare bring them into her own home, let alone rent out her friend's house.

Muggings and fights were common in the north of the city, even murders. If these men had bad intentions, her husband wouldn't be able to stop them.

Thinking this, she glanced again at the little girl in the old man's arms. She was so well-fed and healthy.

"Fine," Old Man Zhao said, not wanting to haggle over money. When his eldest son rented a place in Qingzhou Prefecture, even after several rounds of bargaining, it still cost one hundred and twenty wen. The environment was bad, and they had to share the main gate with the landlord. Very inconvenient. "One hundred and eighty wen it is. I'll pay for three days first. If we want to extend, I'll pay again later. If not, I'll just lock the door and toss the key into your house."

The woman wanted to ask why toss the key instead of returning it to her directly. But seeing him pay so readily, she let it go. Toss it if he wanted—maybe they'd leave early and didn't want to knock.

She counted out five hundred and forty wen from him. Short-term rentals didn't require a lease or thumbprint—just settle up on the spot. Of course, there were risks, like damage to the property or them doing something shady inside, even turning it into a brothel without you being able to say a word. Also, usually a deposit was required, refundable except for damage. Greedy landlords might claim you broke something just to keep the deposit, causing a hassle.

But because of Zhao Xiaobao, and neither party was difficult, the rental process became very simple, and both sides were satisfied.

After handing over the keys to the west side room and the main gate, the woman opened the kitchen door, moved the extra bowls, chopsticks, and pots to the east side room, locked it, and left.

Zhao Sandi saw her out and shut the courtyard gate.

Old Man Zhao stood in the yard, looking at the sun slanting low in the west. The tension in his heart finally eased.

"Really expensive..." he couldn't help muttering, feeling the sting after the fact. "If our family had a courtyard like this in the city, we could just lie around all day and make money."

Zhao Ertian came out of the kitchen after a quick look, nodding in agreement. "Nothing much left—just a pot, a spatula, a pile of firewood, and a pair of tongs. Too easy to make money. And this is the north of the city—I can't imagine how much it costs Er Niang and the others living in the south of the city, and they're supporting a schoolboy too. Unthinkable..."

"Good thing our boys weren't bookish," Zhao Sandi sighed. "If any unfilial son could study, he'd drain the family fortune."

That was a terrible thing to say, but the three nodded in silent agreement.

Being dull has its perks too—being dumb saves money.

"Dad, Second Brother, Third Brother, when Xiaobao grows up, I'll buy you all big courtyards in the city so you can lie around and make money," Zhao Xiaobao said, having toddled around the yard. She chimed in smoothly. "One courtyard each, right next to each other, live close, rent close."

"Good, good, good—Xiaobao has ambition, buying your dad a courtyard in the city. Then I'll just wait for it. When I'm old and can't farm anymore, I'll live off the rent and support Xiaobao!" Old Man Zhao grinned from ear to ear, his belly full and stretched from the pie-in-the-sky promises his daughter kept making him.

The father and daughter laughed for a while, ate some snacks, and thoroughly checked every corner of the place before finally relaxing.

With a scoop, he picked up his daughter and went inside. This house was at the end of the alley, with no one beyond, so no need to worry about prying eyes.

Father and daughter entered the Wonderland. Old Man Zhao went to the warehouse and dug out some grain he'd snagged from the government granary, picking out a dozen or so sacks and dropping them in the yard.

Wang Kangming had said there was a grain shortage in the city and advised them to buy at high prices if they could, because later, even with money, they might not be able to buy any.

That suited him just fine. A grain shortage was good. High prices were good. Best if everyone was in short supply.

"Dad, why are you moving the grain?" Zhao Xiaobao filled the dog bowl with food, turned to see him busy, and trotted over.

"Selling grain," Old Man Zhao said cheerfully. "Dad's moving it to the yard so it's easy for Xiaobao to bring out. Tomorrow, we'll test the waters with one sack. We won't sell for cash—only barter for bedding, winter clothes, and other supplies."

He added, "New or old doesn't matter, as long as it's warm for winter."