In the days leading up to New Year’s Eve, Yan Xiaoyu’s family made several trips to town and even went to the county seat, all to stock up on supplies.

They needed fruits, fruit-flavored liquor, all kinds of meats, as well as New Year’s decorations, paper cutouts, firecrackers, peach wood talismans, incense, and candles… Yan Xiaoyu hauled them home cartload by cartload.

Yan Xingmao and He Qiuhua had always been frugal, but this time they not only stopped him from buying too much but joined in the shopping themselves. On their trip to the county seat, they even dug into their own savings to buy each of the two children a rabbit-fur scarf.

This time around, all four family members were outfitted with new clothes, new shoes, and new hats.

In the past, they’d be lucky to get one new outfit; now, each of them had two—a truly unprecedented splurge.

Celebrating the festival for the first time since the family split, Yan Xingmao and He Qiuhua still harbored a bit of a grudge; they wanted to show everyone that life wasn’t any worse for them now that they’d left the Yan household.

Moreover, they had managed to save over 130 taels of silver—more than enough to build a house and open a restaurant—so naturally, they were willing to spend it.

On the day of the New Year Festival, the family sat around the stove and tallied their accounts. Yan Xingmao and He Qiuhua beamed with joy, deeply feeling that all their hard work had not been in vain; with this silver, even more hardship would be worth it.

The 130 taels were the household funds. In addition to this sum, each of the four of them had a small amount of personal savings—the wages they set aside each month.

Ever since Yan Xingmao’s leg injury had healed, he had been receiving the same wages as He Qiuhua and Yan Xiaoyue.

With the profits from Yan Shaocheng’s stinky tofu business coming in, Yan Xiaoyu had lowered his wages to match the others, saying it made the accounting easier; his parents no longer objected.

The day after settling the accounts, Yan Xiaoyu and his older sister took their copper coins to the town’s money exchange to convert them into silver. Holding a box of heavy silver ingots in their hands, the feeling was quite different from counting copper coins.

Yan Xiaoyu couldn’t resist; he picked out a smooth piece and took a bite.

Yan Xiaoyue, who was driving the cart, turned and saw this. Her eyes widened in shock. With a stony expression, she pulled a half-piece of dried sweet potato from her bosom and handed it to him: “That won’t fill you up. You should eat this instead.”

Yan Xiaoyu laughed so hard he doubled over: “I’m just trying to see if I can leave a tooth mark.”

Only the ones you can bite a toothmark into are the real deal—that’s how they always show it on TV. He hadn’t expected Yan Xiaoyue, a true-blue ancient person, to know that. 

It wasn’t just Yan Xiaoyu’s family; today, the entire village of Xiling was filled with a festive atmosphere.

Smoke rose from every household as families prepared festive meals. Children ran about with bags of home-roasted pumpkin seeds and salted peanuts, their faces beaming with festive joy.

The village had been bustling nonstop, but things had eased up a bit these past few days, and the children were eagerly anticipating this special day when they could eat meat.

Today, aside from the four households—the Yans, Yus, Lius, and Zhaos—who had made a “fortune” alongside Yan Xiaoyu, there were others who had earned a modest sum.

With all the recent hustle and bustle, Yan Xingmao hadn’t had time to build a kiln and make charcoal, so the charcoal at home was all bought from the village.

The imperial court allowed commoners to cut down trees privately to make charcoal for sale elsewhere, but the village only used the charcoal they made for their own needs and couldn’t use it to make money. Selling it to Yan Xiaoyu and his group this time, however, did bring in a tidy sum.

In addition to charcoal, Yan Xiaoyu’s family also bought cotton, rice, and firewood from the villagers. Furthermore, several women in the village earned a little pocket money by making clothes and shoes for them.

Word had it that after spring arrived, Yan Xiaoyu’s family planned to build a new house and would hire some men from the village to help. Everyone was looking forward to it.

Farmers dread hardship, but they fear a future without hope even more. Having work to do brings them peace of mind; no matter how hard or tiring it is, they are willing to endure it.

Thanks to favorable weather, the harvest was better than usual, and this winter, no family in the village had to worry about food or drink. Everyone had saved a little extra grain, and more people were willing to spend money.

When Yan Xiaoyu and his group went to town to buy supplies, they often brought back goods for the village; the Yu and Yan families’ ox carts did the same.

Villagers who were not willing to pay for a ride on the ox carts from Nanling Village—who usually walked there—naturally expressed their gratitude after riding on Yan Xiaoyu’s donkey cart.

He Qiuhua went twice, and each time the villagers warmly struck up conversations with her. She was always quick with a word; just as she used to chat with the village women and men, now everyone was very warm toward her. They frequently gave her a chance to speak, and no longer minded her clumsy tongue. When it came to her own children, they praised her even more for her wise parenting, noting that both her son and daughter were capable.

He Qiuhua was both flattered and surprised, and her confidence grew compared to before.

The village was filled with harmony, but the atmosphere at the Yan household remained gloomy.

It had been several months since Yan Xiaobao was thrown into prison, yet the silver needed to ransom him had still not been raised.

He had plotted to take advantage of a ger, committing such a grave offense, so his punishment was no different from that of Wang Ergou—the ransom demanded was a substantial sum: a full two hundred taels.

The Yan family had only a few dozen taels left in their savings. With the family’s daily expenses to cover, plus Yan Yonghe’s extravagant spending, there was no way they could come up with two hundred taels on their own.

Naturally, Yan Xingsheng and his wife turned to Yan Yongfang and Qian Hong for help.

Qian Hong agreed readily, but the silver never materialized. When Yan Xingsheng and his wife went to ask him with a thick skin, he claimed that Yan Xiaoyu had stolen his tofu business, and the Qian family hadn’t saved any money this year.

In reality, the Qian family had been selling tofu for over a decade; even if the sum were doubled, they could certainly afford it.

But to fork over such a large sum to clean up someone else’s mess, Qian Hong was somewhat reluctant.

Yan Yongfang also agreed that he should pay, but told him to stall for time, adding that Yan Xiaobao’s temperament would only lead to trouble once he was out; a few months in prison would help wear down his aggressive streak.

They were deliberately evading the issue, and Yan Xingsheng and Tao Cuiqing saw right through it, but they didn’t dare press too hard—after all, Yan Yonghe still needed the Qian family to contribute silver for support.

‌Seeing that the deadline was approaching and his precious grandson still hadn’t been ransomed, Old Master Yan grew anxious first. He urged Yan Xingsheng to make another trip to the Qian family, but he returned empty-handed once again.

Desperate to save his son, Yan Xingsheng, having exhausted all other options, turned his attention to his second younger brother.

Yan Xingmao’s family had made a fortune selling various tofu products; they’d just bought a donkey and were planning to build a grand house—who in the village did not know?

‌Indeed, on this very day, after Yan Xiaoyu and his sister had taken He Qiuhua to the town fair, Yan Xingmao, left alone at home, received a visit from his eldest brother.

Yan Xingsheng, using Old Master Yan’s illness as an excuse, asked Yan Xingmao to lend him some silver.

He wept and snivelled, looking as though Old Master Yan’s days were numbered.

Yan Xingmao had assumed that with the headstrong Yan Xiaoyu not there, his brother would be easy to manipulate, but to his surprise, after some internal struggle, Yan Xingmao ultimately refused.

“I’ve long since severed ties with you lot; I’ve even moved my household registration out. Whatever business you have is none of our family’s concern.”

“Are you not going to meddle in Father’s life now?!” Yan Xingsheng looked utterly heartbroken. “He raised you after all. Even if he’s committed the gravest of sins, are we, as his sons, just going to stand by and watch him die? The Festival is only a few days away. If we wait another two days, I’m afraid the clinics in town will all be closed. Do you really want to watch Father die just as the Festival approaches? If the villagers find out, how will they view you? How will they view Yu-ger and Yue-jie?”

Yan Xingsheng spoke with righteous indignation. Yan Xingmao had been somewhat hesitant at first, but the moment he heard Yan Xiaoyu’s name, his mind cleared.

His son had narrowly escaped death at Yan Xiaobao’s hands twice, yet Old Master Yan was only concerned with protecting Yan Xiaobao—even going so far as to slander his own Yu-ger. No matter how patient he might be, he could never forgive Old Master Yan for that.

“Handle this matter yourself. Don’t come looking for me.”

Seeing that he wouldn’t budge, Yan Xingsheng flew into a rage and cursed, “You wretch, Yan Xingmao! Your parents raised you for decades, only to end up with a heartless monster! Everyone outside praises you as honest and trustworthy, but I never imagined your heart could be so cold—that you’d stand by and watch your own father die! Father truly raised you in vain. If Mother were still alive, I’m afraid she’d be driven to her grave by your actions…”

He raged and cursed furiously. When Yan Xingmao heard him mention his late mother, his heart softened after all. Just as he was about to use his own savings to fulfill this final wish, Yan Shaoxuan from next door came over.

“Elder Yan is sick and near death, yet there hasn’t been a single word from the village? I haven’t seen a doctor come by, nor have I heard that you sent Elder Yan to the clinic?”

Yan Shaoxuan walked up to Yan Xingmao and looked coldly at Yan Xingsheng: “Could it be that Uncle Yan couldn’t even spare the money to hire a herbalist for Elder Yan?”

Yan Xingsheng’s face stiffened: “We barely have any silver at home now. If we could afford a doctor, would I be here asking my second younger brother for help?”

Yan Shaoxuan looked coldly at him: “Elder Yan is gravely ill. Uncle Yan hasn’t asked his acquaintances for loans or even pleaded with his own daughter for help, instead he comes running to the family of Uncle Yan, with whom ties have long been severed? As far as I know, the Qian family is wealthier than any other household in our village, isn’t it?” 

“So, is it that the Qian family is unwilling to pay, or is Eldest Uncle Yan unable to swallow his pride to ask his own daughter for help, only to insist that Uncle Yan—who fell out with you just a few months ago—cover the costs?”

Upon hearing this, Yan Xingmao finally caught on—if Old Master Yan were truly on his deathbed, how could there not be a single whisper of it in the village? The Qian family is so wealthy, and Yan Yongfang has never skimped on supporting her parents’ home. How could Yan Xingsheng possibly have asked his own daughter for help? It should be far easier to approach Yan Yongfang than to come to him!

Yan Xingmao’s face hardened. He withdrew his hand from his pocket and ordered Yan Xingsheng to leave: “Get out of here. I have no money for you. Whether your father lives or dies is none of my business.”

Seeing that Yan Shaoxuan had disrupted his plan with just a few words, Yan Xingsheng turned ashen with rage: “Yan Erlang, I’m speaking with my second younger brother—is that any of your business?”

“How is it not my business?” Yu-ger is his fiancée, after all!

Yan Shaoxuan blurted out the first half of the sentence on reflex, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake and managed to swallow the second half.

“As the saying goes, ‘Distant relatives are like close neighbors.’ Now that you and Uncle Yan’s family are barely even distant relatives, how can I, as a ‘close neighbor,’ possibly interfere with your conversation?”

“You can! You can!” Yan Xingmao and Yan Shaoxuan exchanged a glance; the pleased smile on Yan Xingmao’s face—as if looking at his future son-in-law—was immediately noticed by Yan Shaoxuan.

Yan Shaoxuan’s momentary hesitation was clear to Yan Xingsheng; he knew exactly what was going on.

The two shared a knowing smile; the first signs of rapport between father-in-law and son-in-law were beginning to take shape.

Yan Shaoxuan’s fighting spirit grew even stronger: “Uncle Yan, the festival is just a few days away. Your son Yan Xiaobao is still in prison—I imagine you’re eager to get him out, aren’t you? Why not try looking elsewhere for a solution?”

Yan Xingsheng, his true intentions exposed, flushed red, then turned pale, momentarily at a loss for how to respond.

By the time he regained his composure, Yan Shaoxuan’s gaze had grown sharp: “We both know why Yan Xiaobao is in prison. To expect Uncle Yan Er to cough up the silver to bail him out is simply laughable.”