The fragrant chicken stew had Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya unable to put their chopsticks down.

But since they both had small appetites, they were full very quickly.

Jiang Ji told them to go wash up.

Jiang Ya raised his greasy little hands and asked loudly, “Big Brother, I want to sleep with you and Brother Li again tonight.”

Hearing this, Jiang Ji smiled. “Sure.”

Getting the answer he wanted, Jiang Ya cheered, slapped the table with his little hand, and quickly got up to brush his teeth.

Jiang Mai also put down his chopsticks and ran out after him.

Jiang Ji looked at Ye Li, who was sitting across from him: “Let’s finish our meal quickly, then go over the ledger.”

“I came back in a hurry today, so I didn’t have time to look at it.”

Ye Li nodded: “Bao Beiyuan is quite meticulous—he actually kept records.”

He’d been running this business for so many days and had never kept accounts.

After all, it was a small business, and since he had to cover the family’s every expense—food, drink, and daily necessities—he’d simply lumped all the money together.

But Jiang Ji was quite impressed: “Even brothers should keep clear accounts; it’s better for everyone this way.”

“When you took Xiao Mai and Ya-ger out, didn’t you specifically seek out Datong?”

“We don’t do anything that might arouse suspicion—you know, avoid appearing to be up to something.”

“……”

Ye Li swallowed the winter melon in his mouth.

He still couldn’t get past that phrase, could he?

He turned his head and looked at the basket Jiang Ji had brought back, sitting on the stove: “So, how much money am I actually getting?”

“A total of one tael and four liang.”

Jiang Ji reported the figure.

“Not bad.” A smile spread across Ye Li’s face.

One thousand four hundred wen—now he had a steady source to cover his monthly labor expenses and Jiang Ji’s education costs.

And this was less than a month’s earnings!

Bao Beiyuan had set up his stall during Jiang Ji’s last vacation, which coincided with the wheat harvest.

He didn’t dare to push too hard the first few days, so he made fewer servings.

Later on, the daily production stabilized, and so did the income.

By next month, his share would definitely exceed two taels.

Sitting at home while money flows in from the county seat—what a treat!

“I think it’s decent too. He’s making eighty servings of soy milk rice dumplings a day now, and they sell out early every morning—demand outstrips supply.”

Jiang Ji’s dark, piercing eyes fixed on Ye Li, filled with a hint of curiosity.

If he sells just eighty portions a day, plus a clay pot of jasmine honey tea, the monthly profit would reach six taels!

And that’s with Bao Beiyuan handling everything alone—his energy is limited.

If he hired an assistant, that profit could double!

Where on earth did Ye Li learn such a money-making scheme?

Ye Li pretended not to notice Jiang Ji’s confusion.

As long as Jiang Ji didn’t ask, he certainly wouldn’t offer an explanation.

He said, “He’s working too hard. It’s fine if he makes a little less.”

Take ice cream shops, for example. During the off-season, some ordinary locations might only sell a few hundred cups a day.

Bao Beiyuan has to prepare the ingredients and toppings all by himself, plus run errands to buy this and that. Selling eighty cups a day would surely keep him spinning like a top.

“I’ve tried to talk him out of it, but he just can’t stop. He says that if he isn’t working, he’ll start overthinking things.”

A look of concern crossed Jiang Ji’s brow.

Upon hearing this, Ye Li immediately said, “Then go see him after school this evening and give him a hand.”

“Alright.” Jiang Ji had been planning to do just that.

As they spoke, both of them put down their chopsticks.

Ye Li asked Jiang Ji to look over the ledger while he tidied up the kitchen.

Jiang Ji took the ledger out of his backpack, sat down by the oil lamp, and began flipping through it.

This wasn’t a professional ledger; Bao Beiyuan had never studied bookkeeping, and the Bao Family Noodle Shop didn’t have a dedicated accounting office. Like his father, Bao Beiyuan simply recorded everything spent and earned each day.

One entry per day.

So far, he had recorded over twenty days.

Since he needed to send money to Ye Li today, Bao Beiyuan counted the total in the money jar, set aside two days’ worth of ingredients, and then, based on the 30-70 split, calculated the amount due to Ye Li.

As for Bao Beiyuan’s daily rent and living expenses—food, drink, and other necessities—he covered them entirely with his own savings, which were not recorded in this ledger.

Consequently, this ledger was simple and easy to understand. By the time Ye Li had finished tidying the kitchen, Jiang Ji had already gone through it.

Jiang Ji put the ledger back into his backpack and pulled out the copper coins inside.

One guan is one thousand wen.

The remaining four hundred wen were also strung together with hemp rope.

The coins were heavy; one guan weighs eight jin, and together they came to nearly twelve jin.

Jiang Ji gave them a shake in his hands and said to Ye Li, “Take them back to the west room.”

“They’re so heavy—you carry them over and put them on the bottom shelf of the chest of drawers.”

Ye Li pointed to the small shed as he spoke: “I’m going to take a shower.”

Jiang Ji agreed, then carried the two strings of coins into the main hall.

By the time he had put the coins away and emerged from the west room, the two little ones, Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya, had finished their baths and were just entering the main hall.

Spotting him, Jiang Ya immediately exclaimed, “Big Brother! Look at the wind chimes!”

As if showing off a treasure, he pointed his little arm at the door frames of the east and west rooms, where a wind chime hung on each.

Before Jiang Ji could react, he hopped over to him, grabbed his sleeve, and pulled him toward the east room: “Big Brother, there’s another one on the east room window—it’s a crescent moon, and it’s so pretty! It rings whenever the wind blows. Second Brother and I really love it!”

To a child his age, the wind chime was an incredibly delicate and fascinating object.

He had even been happy to carry around the rough prototype Ye Li had made with a stick, so naturally, he was absolutely delighted with the finished product Jiang Tong had crafted.

For the first couple of days after they were hung, he would go in and out of the house over a hundred times a day—it was all so new and exciting.

Even now, whenever he entered or left the room and saw the two wind chimes, his joy hadn’t diminished in the slightest.

That’s why he couldn’t wait to share this with Jiang Ji—so that Jiang Ji would be happy too.

Jiang Ji was indeed quite curious about the wind chimes.

The main hall was pitch-black without an oil lamp, so he went into the west room, held the oil lamp in his hand, and tilted his head slightly to examine the wind chimes hanging on the doorframe.

When he left last time, Ye Li hadn’t mentioned a word about them.

But now that he’s back, the wind chimes are actually ready to be sold.

His Fulang really has a lot of ideas.

The wind chime hanging in the west room was made entirely of wood.

He gave it a gentle nudge with his hand, and the wooden sticks rattled as they swayed.

“How much is this?” he asked, glancing at Jiang Ya beside him.

“Twelve wen each!” Jiang Ya replied in a clear, bright voice.

“Twelve wen?” Jiang Ji was a bit surprised.

Just a string of wood, and they’re selling it for twelve wen?

“Right, it’s quite expensive.”

Jiang Mai actually didn’t understand why anyone would spend so much money on a string of sticks.

If he could carry it around for free, he’d actually quite like it.

But if he had to pay for it, he didn’t think it was worth a single wen.

But Ya-ger really loved them.

Maybe that’s the difference between a grown man and a child.

He added, “They sold pretty fast. When the two brothers were hawking them, they said hanging them at home not only lifts your spirits but also brings good luck, so they sold out in no time.”

Bringing good luck?

Jiang Ji began to understand. He walked toward the eastern room: “How much are these two in the eastern room?”

“Twenty wen each—they even have little bells on them!”

Jiang Ya blurted out.

Twenty wen.

Jiang Ji stared at the four characters “Abundance Year after Year” over and over, a pang of bitterness welling up inside him.

He earned just over ten wen for copying thousands of characters for others.

These four characters, with a little bell attached, sell for twenty wen?

Fortunately, this was Ye Li and Jiang Tong’s business—they were all family.

The slight pang of envy in his heart quickly faded.

Jiang Tong knew few characters. Before he returned to the private school tomorrow, he would write down a few more idioms with good meanings so Jiang Tong could mix things up a bit.

After inspecting the idiom wind chime, he was tugged by Jiang Ya into the east room to take a look at the crescent moon wind chime.

The window was open, and moonlight bathed the courtyard. Looking out from inside, he could clearly see the silhouette of the crescent moon wind chime.

It was truly as if they had hung the moon right on their own window.

It was actually quite interesting.

In that moment, he understood the value of twenty wen.

For a family of decent means, spending twenty wen to buy lasting joy was well worth it!

After admiring the wind chimes, he sent the two little ones to bed on the kang.

He, on the other hand, was prepared to wash up.

He had to go pay his respects tomorrow, so he needed to get to bed early tonight.

After brushing his teeth, Ye Li happened to come out of the small shed, so it was his turn to go in for a shower.

After showering, he didn’t rush back inside but stood in the courtyard drying his hair. Just then, there was a commotion coming from the west wing—Jiang Ya was laughing and calling out to Brother Li, “Tickle me!”

He couldn’t help but laugh, too.

Actually, he was quite relieved that Jiang Ya had this kind of temperament. He’d heard his second uncle call him a “money-losing burden” countless times before, but he’d never taken it to heart.

Once Jiang Ya grew older and understood what it meant to die in childbirth, he shouldn’t end up like Bao Beiyuan—so consumed by grief that he couldn’t move on.

He looked up at the moon overhead.

The moonlight was soft and gentle, and two familiar faces flashed before his eyes.

These were his closest relatives.

Yet before they passed away, he hadn’t been by their side; he hadn’t managed to see them one last time.

Twice.

Twice within three months.

Both times, he had rushed back from private school only to arrange their funerals.

How cruel.

How cruel Heaven has been to him!

On this day in years past, whenever he thought of this regret, he would stand in the courtyard and weep silently.

At this very moment, to say he wasn’t sad would be a lie.

But Jiang Ya’s laughter was right by his ear, mingling with Ye Li’s voice.

These two voices slowly pushed the sorrow deep within his heart aside.

He was still alive; he had to look forward.

He stared at the moon overhead for a moment, then raised his hand to wipe the corner of his eye. Once the mist in his eyes had cleared, he waved at the moon, then turned and went inside.

The night passed in silence.

Early the next morning, Jiang Dahu brought Jiang Liu over to work again.

He also brought along the new robe Liang Erxiang had just made.

He handed the new robe to Jiang Ji, had him try it on, and once he confirmed no alterations were needed, he felt at ease. He picked up the educational expenses for the past eleven days that Ye Li had handed over, chatted with Jiang Ji for a while, and didn’t leave until dawn was breaking.

In years past, it had always been him, the second uncle, who accompanied Jiang Ji to pay his respects.

This year, he wasn’t needed.

Along with his relief, he felt a touch of sadness.

Jiang Ji understood Jiang Dahu’s delicate, sensitive feelings, but today he truly didn’t need Jiang Dahu’s company—he was already married and had to lead his new Fulang to meet his in-laws.

According to custom, the memorial service must be held early.

He had Jiang Liu continue grinding the grain while he and Ye Li picked up the offerings and set out with Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya.

The ancestral graves of the Jiang clan of Yezaopo lay behind the village, near the foot of the mountain; it took about fifteen minutes to walk there.

By the time the four of them arrived, the first light of dawn was breaking on the horizon.

Daybreak had come.

The wild grasses were thick in summer, and since this place was rarely visited, the grass on every grave had grown tall.

Jiang Ji led the way, circling the small graveyard twice before arriving at his mother’s grave.

He took a small shovel from his backpack and handed it to Ye Li: “Clear away the weeds.”

Ye Li took the trowel.

The two little ones, Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya, pitched in to pull the weeds by hand.

After a flurry of activity, once the weeds on the grave mound were cleared away, Jiang Ji and Ye Li placed the offerings in front of the wooden stele.

A pound of fresh peaches.

A pound of cloud-flake cakes.

And the roast chicken Ye Li had marinated yesterday.

After arranging the offerings, Jiang Ji lit three sticks of incense and began burning the joss paper and paper money.

The incense smoke curled upward.

The joss paper and paper money quickly turned to ashes in the open flame.

Ye Li had prepared two back baskets full of joss paper and paper money, so he knelt down to burn some as well.

Once all the joss paper and paper money in one basket had been burned—completing this most important part of the ritual—Jiang Ji took Ye Li’s hand and knelt down.

Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya hurriedly knelt down as well.

Jiang Ji stared at the wooden stele for a moment, then took Ye Li’s hand and spoke softly: “Mother, this is Ye Li.”

“You must have seen from heaven how well he treats me, and how well he treats Xiao Mai and Ya-ger.”

“I don’t know how to thank him.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he hurriedly added a silent thought in his heart:

Nor do I know how to cherish and love him.

Sigh. In broad daylight and in front of Xiao Mai and Ya-ger, he simply couldn’t bring himself to say that out loud; he could only quietly add it in his heart.

“Mother, please, along with Father, bless me so that I may pass the county-level examination this time. First, so as not to waste all these years of hard study, nor to disappoint the relatives who have worried and worked so hard for my education. Second, so that I may earn the status of a Xiucai for him.”

“He really wants to be a Xiucai’s Fulang.”

Having said this, he looked at Ye Li, gesturing for him to say a few words as well.

Ye Li had already prepared what he was going to say.

If Mother Jiang were still alive, he might have been nervous meeting her for the first time.

But now, he had nothing to worry about.

With a respectful expression, he kowtowed three times before the wooden stele and said calmly, “Mother, I am Ye Li.”

“When you passed away, you must have been worried about Jiang Ji. These past few years, watching over him from heaven, you must have been heartbroken. But ever since I changed my ways, you’ve surely seen everything I’ve done.”

“You must know my sincerity and genuine heart. Rest assured, Jiang Ji and I will live a good life together and raise Xiao Mai and Ya-ger ger well.”

“From now on, every day in our family will be a good day.”

He may not be the real Ye Li.

But his heart is genuine and sincere.

If Mother Jiang truly has a spirit in heaven, she would surely like him.

Though his words were simple, they caused Jiang Ji’s vision to blur for a moment.

However, rather than sadness, what filled Jiang Ji’s heart was hope.

Hope for every single day to come.

He gently shook the hands they were holding together and whispered, “Mother heard you. She’ll be at ease.”

Ye Li turned his head, met his smiling gaze, and smiled back.

Afterward, the two of them stepped aside to let Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya kneel before the wooden monument, so the two little ones could say a few words as well.

Jiang Mai stared at the wooden stele and chattered on about family matters. He and Ya-ger were now earning wages, and together, their earnings had already exceeded one hundred wen.

There was so much money, he didn’t even know how to spend it.

After all, he and Ya-ger no longer needed to save up travel money for their eldest brother.

Besides, the food at home was better now, and they had more pork to eat, but he and Ya-ger would never slack off.

Finally, he didn’t forget to ask his mother to bless his older brother so he’d pass the imperial exams with flying colors.

It was Jiang Ya’s turn. The little guy counted on his fingers how many times they’d had meat at home, talked about his new toys—a big pinwheel and a wind chime—and mentioned how he’d gotten chubby.

He had no memory of his mother, but Jiang Ji had filled his head with countless assurances that she adored him, so he was convinced she loved him dearly.

He was more than happy to share all this with his mother.

However, as he spoke, he stole a glance at Ye Li: “Mom, I miss you so much. If you were here, would you treat me just like Brother Li does?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Jiang Ji immediately ruffled his little head: “Of course. If Mother were here, she’d definitely treat you just as well as Brother Li does.”

With Jiang Ji’s assurance, the little guy immediately broke into a wide grin. He threw himself into Ye Li’s arms, tilted his little head back, and shouted, “Brother Li!”

Ye Li hugged him, smiling as he pinched his little cheeks. “Big Brother is also a mother to you, Yaya, good boy.”

The word “Yaya” made him even happier; he squirmed around in Ye Li’s arms like a pretzel.

Jiang Ji and Jiang Mai, watching from the side, both laughed. After exchanging a few more words with Mother Jiang, the two brothers stood up, gathered the offerings, and prepared to pay their respects to Father Jiang.

An earthenware jar of yellow wine had been added to the offerings for Father Jiang.

Jiang Ji poured the rice wine over the grave, then knelt down and repeated the earlier ritual and words.

Ye Li, Jiang Mai, and Jiang Ya did the same.

Ye Li, in particular, earnestly and sincerely apologized to Father Jiang, acknowledging his mistakes, and expressed gratitude for the help Father Jiang had extended to Ye Daji.

As Jiang Ji listened to his words, his expression grew increasingly gentle.

By the time the ceremony ended, the sun had baked the four of them until their faces were bright red. After confirming there were no embers left at either grave, they finally picked up their back baskets and headed home.

When they arrived home, Jiang Liu had already prepared breakfast.

Seeing them return, Jiang Liu didn’t linger but hurried back home.

The four of them ate first; the roast chicken marinated yesterday was devoured by all four of them.

After the meal, they strained the soybean pulp.

Once finished, Jiang Ji led the two little ones out to cut grass.

He ate lunch before returning to the private school; it was still early.

Ye Li pressed the tofu and, without resting, rolled up his sleeves to stir-fry walnuts, black sesame seeds, and rice.

Soon, Jiang Ji returned with Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya.

Ye Li had also finished stir-frying the three ingredients.

Next came the task of grinding the three ingredients into flour.

This was heavy work, so Jiang Ji took it on.

The stone mill had been moved to the shed by the well, but with no breeze today, Jiang Ji was already sweating after just a few turns.

Jiang Mai was a dutiful son. He had been sorting chives with Ye Li and Jiang Ya nearby, but upon seeing this, he dropped the chives and grabbed a large palm fan to fan his older brother.

Jiang Ji was very pleased and smiled, praising him a few times.

Just then, a breeze blew in, instantly carrying away much of the heat.

The wind chime hanging by the east room’s window also rang out with a crisp sound.

Jiang Ji glanced over and, thinking of the idiom wind chime hanging by the east room’s door, said to Ye Li, “I’ll write down a few idioms later. Give them to Brother Datong and have him change up the design on the wind chime.”

“Sure.” Ye Li, busy picking chives, agreed without looking up.

He had actually been planning to mention this to Jiang Ji.

“By the way, why don’t you learn a few characters too?” Jiang Ji added.

Ye Li was taken aback and looked up at him: “Are you talking about me?”

“Of course I’m talking about you. Xiao Mai and Ya-ger know how to read.”

Though not many.

But certainly better than Ye Li, who doesn’t know a single character.

However, seeing Ye Li’s surprise and worried that he might be upset, he hurried to explain: “I’m not criticizing you. I just think that as you earn more money in the future, what if you need to keep track of your accounts?”

“Besides, when I go to the Prefectural Capital to take the imperial exams, if Bao Beiyuan brings the ledgers, what if you’re in a hurry to look at them?”

“It never hurts to have a skill; if you learn it, there’ll definitely be a time when it comes in handy.”

He didn’t look down on Ye Li for being illiterate!

What’s the big deal about being illiterate?

It’s nothing!

He just wanted Ye Li to have another skill.

“…Alright.”

Ye Li nodded.

Pretending to be blind had been quite exhausting.

Now that Jiang Ji wanted to teach him, he might as well “learn” it—that way, he wouldn’t have to pretend to be illiterate for the rest of his life.

“I have to leave after lunch, so let Xiao Mai teach you first. He knows over thirty characters,” Jiang Ji added.

Ye Li: “?”

His eyes widened slightly as he looked at Jiang Mai.

Jiang Mai looked a bit shy.

But he didn’t forget to emphasize, “It’s thirty-two. I know thirty-two characters.”