Chapter 166 Great Fortune

Chapter 166: Good Luck and Great Fortune

Meng Wan took off the bamboo basket and hung it on the pole beside the bamboo building to prevent the wild vegetables inside from being eaten by the running chickens, then asked Tao Da’s wife, “Yes, Auntie Tao, I heard from Tao Jiu that you started hatching eggs after the New Year, so I came to check. Have any hatched yet?”

Auntie Tao was a round-faced woman who loved to smile. She chuckled and said to Meng Wan, “The earliest batch already has stiff feathers. My husband made a few more small chicken coops to raise them. The batch I hatched last month, I just checked, and some are already breaking through the shells.”

Meng Wan’s eyes lit up, and he helped Chu Ci hang up his basket as well. “Come on, I’ll take you to see the chicks hatching.”

A flicker of emotion passed through Chu Ci’s calm eyes. To avoid startling the mountain chickens, the snow wolf was not with them, left alone at Tong Shun’s house. He followed Meng Wan step by step into the bungalow.

As soon as the two lifted the thick curtain, a wave of warmth hit them. To ensure the chicks could hatch smoothly, the bungalow was sealed tightly inside and out. Wooden boxes lined the left and right sides of the door all the way to the front end, and there were also two rows in the middle.

The entire building was a huge brooder room, with eight stoves placed at intervals. They had to be constantly monitored to ensure the fires neither went out nor burned too fiercely—in short, a meticulous and exhausting job.

Meng Wan lifted a section of the worn-out quilt in the middle, revealing chicks struggling to break through their shells underneath.

Chu Ci hurriedly pointed at one of them, where a chick was pecking at its shell. But they had been watching for a while, and while two other chicks had already emerged, this one still hadn’t broken through.

“Don’t worry, just help it tear a small opening,” Meng Wan said, having heard that some chicks have difficulty hatching and need a little external assistance.

Chu Ci, already skilled in making poison, had no hesitation in using his hands. Gently, he peeled off the small bump that the chick had been pecking at. The struggling chick inside slowly began to break through the tiny opening bit by bit, eventually successfully emerging from its shell.

Meng Wan said thoughtfully, “This chick is a lot like you. It was trapped inside the eggshell, but with just a little help, it can smoothly welcome new life.” Just like Chu Ci, and just like the people of Heshan.

The smile still lingering on Chu Ci’s face, he nodded firmly. He was very happy playing with Meng Wan.

Knowing that Meng Wan wanted to eat chicken, Auntie Tao promptly picked four plump ones. With a swift motion, she slit their throats, drained the blood, and cleaned them thoroughly over the stove with hot water. Then she handed them to Xue Sheng.

She also had two jars of unfertilized eggs that she had pickled, and she gave one jar to Meng Wan to take down the mountain. The three of them returned fully loaded.

Meng Wan hadn’t cooked in a long time. He had Xue Sheng light both stoves in the kitchen. First, he mixed a bowl of white flour and set it aside to slowly rise. Then he boiled one of the chickens in plain water. This was for the snow wolf’s meal. Meng Wan still found the mountain demon unsettling, so he usually fed the snow wolf cooked food.

The remaining three chickens were chopped into large pieces, soaked in clean water to remove blood foam, then drained. He heated oil in the wok, sautéed scallions and ginger until fragrant, then added the chicken pieces. The kitchen instantly filled with an enticing aroma.

Chu Ci stood at the door, intently watching Meng Wan’s swift, decisive movements, while the snow wolf beside him drooled over the chicken in the pot.

Meng Wan added hot water and seasonings to the wok, covered it with a lid, then uncovered the dough basin. He decided to stick some flatbreads around the edge of the wok, letting them steam from the pot’s heat and soak up the chicken broth—Song Tingzhou loved that.

White steam rose from the edge of the wok. Meng Wan lifted the lid again, pressed the rolled flatbreads one by one around the edge, then re-covered it. He told Xue Sheng to add only a little firewood at a time and let it simmer slowly. Who knew when Song Tingzhou would be back?

The wolf’s meal was simple—the whole chicken was scooped out and left to cool. That pot was then used to steam a basin of rice.

“Snow wolf, time to eat!” Meng Wan tossed the chicken into the wolf’s food bowl and called it over.

The snow wolf had been craving it. It dove straight into the bowl, gulping down half the chicken before realizing something was off—it didn’t taste the same as the aroma it had been smelling.

At noon, when Song Tingzhou returned, Tong Shun also came back from working in the fields. Last year, he had painstakingly opened up an acre of wasteland. These days, the villagers were busy planting, but Tong Shun, being young, worked slower and had less stamina than adults, though he had managed to plant rice at a slower pace.

His grandmother was too old this year to even cook, so Tong Shun had to prepare meals for her after coming back from work.

Meng Wan stir-fried some wild vegetables with mushrooms and scrambled eggs with wood ear mushrooms—both in large portions. He scooped some of each, along with a small basin of chicken and a basin of rice, and had Chu Ci take them one by one to Tong Shun’s main hall.

Chu Ci couldn’t speak and didn’t care much for others. Even when Tong Shun politely declined, Chu Ci simply ignored him, set down the food as if completing a task, and left.

Song Tingzhou, Meng Wan, Xue Sheng, and Chu Ci sat around the table to eat. Aside from the three of them having six or seven flatbreads, Song Tingzhou ate the rest, plus two bowls of rice and plenty of vegetables. By now, even Chu Ci was used to it.

After the meal, Xue Sheng cleaned up the dishes. Meng Wan had formed the habit of taking a nap since the days with A Yan. He took off his outer robe, called Song Tingzhou to lie down on the bed, and chatted casually, “This winter, quite a few villagers opened up wasteland on their own, right? How many mu?”

Song Tingzhou, using him as a bolster, spoke in a low voice from above Meng Wan’s head, “The slopes in Red Mountain Village are fairly gentle. Some hardworking families opened up six mu of wasteland over the winter. Although the yield won’t match flat land, it’s still extra income.”

Hardworking people were everywhere, but so were the lazy. Some actively opened up land, while others, having earned more silver last year, simply lay around at home doing nothing.

Meng Wan said lazily, “Last year, the sugarcane from the mountain slopes was sweeter than that from the flat land. I thought back then that Red Mountain Village was the best place for sugarcane. After dealing with the Tong family’s affairs, the families that opened up more wasteland this time will be able to plant a few more mu of sugarcane.”

The villagers who weren’t enthusiastic about opening up wasteland fell into two mindsets. First, they feared that too much land would mean heavy taxes after two years, and no one would buy poor mountain land anyway—this was the majority’s concern, which was understandable.

The second, a small minority, thought that Meng Wan’s feeding was too good and didn’t want to bother farming themselves. They just wanted to tend to Meng Wan’s sugarcane and collect wages.

Song Tingzhou pondered that excessive land reclamation wasn’t good either, but not opening a single mu would leave them at the mercy of the landlord again. He could talk until he was blue in the face, but these people wouldn’t change their ingrained thinking. They needed to take a fall first.

During spring planting, the land had to be remeasured and recorded in the county yamen’s fish-scale registers. If Chief Clerk Qiao had to do it all himself, he would be exhausted. Song Tingzhou’s trip to the village this time was to have the villagers elect a village head, who would then handle the measurements with the yamen runners and submit the records to Chief Clerk Qiao for registration.

Usually, village head elections were straightforward because most villagers would choose the same person who had long been the respected village elder.

Special cases included the former village head of Shuihe Village, who had caused trouble in court. Oh... he was now the ex-village head. The current village head was his third son. To help his third son establish authority in the village, he couldn’t help favoring the third branch, causing discontent among his other sons and daughters-in-law. Now he found himself in a difficult position with everyone.

In contrast, Red Mountain Village was much more harmonious. The village head remained the same as before. Not to mention others—no one else had his boldness. When selecting people for the sugar workshop, he had skipped his own family and chosen other village wives and young men.

Those selected were grateful, and the other villagers trusted him.

In the afternoon, Song Tingzhou and the new village head of Red Mountain Village went to measure the land. For dinner, Meng Wan cooked a pot of porridge, stir-fried a vegetable dish, and sliced two plates of pickled eggs that Auntie Tao had made. Chu Ci seemed to love them. He was growing and was now the second biggest eater in the household.

That night, Song Tingzhou was sleeping soundly, holding Meng Wan, when someone knocked on Tong Shun’s door.

“Master Song, Tong Shun?”

Song Tingzhou opened his eyes in the darkness. He first tightened his arms around the person in his embrace, feeling Meng Wan breathe evenly, then gently laid him flat on the bed and slipped out, quietly putting on his outer robe.

By the time he went out, Xue Sheng had already reached the courtyard gate, asking warily, “Who is it?”

The man at the door, Tao Da, sounded anxious. “I’m the one who raises chickens for Master Meng up on the mountain. A batch of chickens in the coop suddenly died. I’ve come to inform Master Meng.”

This was no small matter. He earned wages from Master Meng for twelve months a year. Losing a few chicks during hatching was normal, but if grown chickens died for no reason, wouldn’t that be his fault? How could he explain it to Master Meng?

His whole family was panicked. As soon as they discovered it, they rushed down the mountain to Tong Shun’s house to find Meng Wan.

Song Tingzhou, who had walked over, heard Tao Da’s words. He signaled Xue Sheng to open the door first, then said to the anxious Tao Da, “It might be a plague. Put the dead chickens in a separate place and check if the others show any abnormalities. It’s late tonight; tomorrow morning, my husband and I will go up the mountain to have a look. You go back and rest for now.”

His tone was calm, with no sign of anger. Tao Da’s unease eased halfway, and he returned to the mountainside by moonlight.

The next morning, when Meng Wan woke up and heard from Song Tingzhou about what had happened the night before, he scooped some salted egg yolk to eat and said lightly, “I’ll go up the mountain to check after breakfast. Aren’t you going to nearby Red Mud Village today? Go ahead.”

Song Tingzhou was a bit worried. “Going to Red Mud Village isn’t urgent. I can wait until tomorrow.”

Meng Wan scooped the egg white he didn’t like into Song Tingzhou’s bowl. “Don’t worry, go on. If you don’t leave, how will others make their move?”

He persuaded Song Tingzhou to go handle his business, then took Chu Ci and Xue Sheng up the mountain.

“Master Meng, you’re here! It’s all my husband’s fault for not keeping a close watch. Whatever compensation you want, we’ll give it—just don’t let this harm our relationship,” Auntie Tao said nervously.

She was already a grandmother. Worried that Meng Wan would be angry, she spoke cautiously, afraid of being blamed. There was also a family connection, which made her even more embarrassed.

The whole family had barely slept all night. They had kept watch in the chicken coop, changed the water and feed, and worked early the next morning, feeding the chickens and cleaning out the manure.

“Auntie Tao, don’t panic. Take me to see where the dead chickens are,” Meng Wan said. He wasn’t one to blame others rashly, and besides, how the chickens had died was still uncertain.

Last night, Tao Da’s son had thrown the dead chickens under a big tree on the mountain. Seventeen adult chickens had died in the middle of the night—Tao Da had noticed something unusual in the coop when he got up. They were all under the tree, each in a rigid posture with its head tucked into its wings and legs stretched straight out.

Meng Wan didn’t know much about livestock, but Chu Ci did. He stepped forward to examine them and quickly reached a conclusion. “They were poisoned by broken intestine grass.”

"What?!" Mrs. Tao exclaimed, then said angrily, "Which shameless person did this!"

Meng Wan was not surprised. "Since that person did this, if he did it once, he'll do it again. Please, Mrs. Tao, secretly observe at night. No need to catch him in the act right away. Just make sure he can't find an opportunity to strike, and he will get anxious."

Mrs. Tao felt she didn't understand and confirmed again, "Not catch him on the spot?"

Meng Wan said solemnly, "Yes, after all, they are fellow villagers. We should give them one... well... a few chances!"

Mrs. Tao saw Meng Wan and the others off the mountain, wanting to say something but stopping herself. When she returned, she said to her husband, son, and daughter-in-law: "Meng Fulang is too kind-hearted. Last year, he fed our entire village, and many households rebuilt their houses. Now, someone in the village does such a shameless thing. He doesn't blame or get angry, but even wants to give that thief a chance. Oh! He's truly a saintly figure."

Tao Da's son snorted, "Meng Fulang is soft-hearted, but precisely because of this, we cannot let that person off. I'll keep watch tonight. If I see which bastard did it, I'll skin him alive!"

Tao Da slapped his son, "What nonsense about skinning! Tonight you go to sleep obediently. I'll keep watch. Since Meng Fulang said so, he must have his reasons. We just need to follow his words."

Tao Da's son was not bad-hearted, just too straightforward. After being slapped by his father, he didn't dare to argue and muttered to himself as he ran off to add water to the chickens.

After Song Tingzhou left, Meng Wan would take Chu Ci and Xue Sheng to the mountain to pick mushrooms and dig for wild vegetables whenever he had free time. Last year, the villagers of Hongshan Village had given Meng Wan mushrooms that Chang Jinhua loved. Since it was rare to come again, he wanted to pick more and dry them to take back for Chang Jinhua.

Five days later, the sugarcane seedlings that Meng Wan had mentioned had not been delivered; instead, Tao Da again sent his son down the mountain to find Meng Wan, still at dawn when there were the fewest people on the road.

"My master hasn't woken up yet. If you're not in a hurry, please wait a while." Xue Sheng was unusually gentle, after all, the visitor was Bi Yun's nephew.

"Eh, not urgent, not urgent." Tao Da's son said he wasn't in a hurry, but anyone with eyes could see he had a bellyful of words he was eager to spill.

Meng Wan and Chu Ci hadn't gotten up yet, and he hadn't instructed Xue Sheng about any urgent matter from the Tao family, so Xue Sheng just lit the fire and boiled water, pretending not to notice Tao Da's son's impatience.

The sun rose in the east, and the warm sunlight gently shone on the window frame. Finally, some sounds came from the room where Meng Wan was sleeping.

After a while, he came out wearing a modified cross-collar long gown and trousers that Chang Jinhua had made for him. The long gown was made of dark blue fine cotton, reaching down to his thighs, and the dark gray trousers were made in a loose straight-leg style, covering half of his feet.

This outfit was extremely comfortable. Meng Wan loved to dress like this when he came to the countryside.

To be honest, it wasn't very good-looking, but the emphasis was on comfort. It was almost like the short jackets the villagers wore for work, far from the varied patterns and bright colors of clothing in Shengjing, Yangzhou, and other places. But when Meng Wan wore it, no one could look away.