Chapter Bonanza (8/10)

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Fengyuan City.

Ever since Tang Xianling and Tieniu left, Jiang Yun had a hard time adjusting at first, but she knew the kids had serious business to attend to, so she found things to keep herself busy—though she didn’t really have to look far. The family restaurant was closed, but the breakfast shop was still open, and she still had to sun-dry the snow cabbage every day.

Jiang Yun was busy sun-drying the vegetables when Douzi, carrying Xiaoyuan, came by every day. The courtyard suddenly became lively, so Jiang Yun called out to Douzi and the Cui family—father and son—telling them not to go back, but to just eat at her place.

The Cui family declined, explaining that cooking for one person was fine, but preparing meals for such a large group would be exhausting.

Jiang Yun asked them twice, but when she saw they were refusing, she would sometimes, when she’d cooked too much, call out to Douzi and Xiaoyuan to stay and eat. Seeing this, the Cui family—father and son—had no choice but to stay and eat with them.

It wasn’t like this every day, though—just two or three times a week, which made for a lively atmosphere without being too tiring.

After more than half a month had passed, Tang Qiao and Lin Hu went into town once. They found the restaurant closed and the courtyard deserted; upon asking, they learned that Wu-ger and Tieniu had gone to Lujing.

“Why didn’t they take you along, Mom?” Tang Qiao asked.

Jiang Yun: “What would I be doing there? Tieniu and Wu-ger have serious business to attend to—they’re going to a funeral. I’m getting on in years, and the heat makes the journey difficult. Besides, Wu-ger asked me about it, and I was the one who decided not to go.”

Hearing her mother’s string of remarks—which had grown increasingly sharp toward the end—Tang Qiao was left at a loss, half-laughing, half-crying. “Mom, I wasn’t trying to drive a wedge between you and Wu-ger. I was just saying—why are you getting so upset?”

“You just blamed Wu-ger for not bringing me along,” Jiang Yun picked up on it, though her tone was a bit gentler this time as she spoke to her eldest daughter. “You’re my child, and he’s my child too. I treat you both the same—don’t get the wrong idea.”

“I know, Mom.”

Later, when Tang Qiao was heading back, Lin Hu teased her along the way: “Mom’s getting more and more biased toward my little brother these days.”

Tang Qiao glared at her husband. “What, are you trying to drive a wedge between my little brother too? It’s not like you’re the only one who can talk!”

“Mom and my little brother live together under the same roof. Just look at our family—those three of them sometimes get on your nerves, and you still have to scold them and give them a talking-to. But Mom and Wu-ger get along better and better these days. That just shows what a good person my little brother is…”

Lin Hu listened as his wife once again praised his younger brother in a roundabout way—it was true, Wu-ger was indeed capable and generous, especially toward his siblings; he was a good younger brother. But! But hadn’t his wife just been treated a little coldly by his mother-in-law a moment ago? Wasn’t he trying to comfort her? How had it turned into his wife lecturing him?

Still, the couple didn’t actually “argue.” Tang Qiao was the “forgetful” type—back when she lived with the Lin family, in such a large household, a single remark could easily lead to a clash of words. If she’d had a short temper, she would’ve been driven to her wit’s end.

Her husband was just speaking without thinking, making a few offhand remarks; it wasn’t worth her picking on him over it.

“How long do you think it’ll take to get from Fengyuan City to Lujing?” Tang Qiao wanted to know when her younger brother would be back.

Lin Hu had no idea and couldn’t say for sure. “I’d say about a month or so?”

Later, Lin Hu actually asked around to find out how long it took to get from Fengyuan City to Lujing.

In August, Lin Hu told his wife, “It’s been a little less than half a month.”

Tang Qiao sat at home counting the days on her fingers. Wu-ger and Tieniu had set out in the second half of July; if she did the math, they should have arrived by now. As for the funeral—according to her mother, they were just gathering some old clothes—so that would have been even quicker.

“They’ll be back before the end of August—and it’ll be cooler by then.”

Tang Qiao was good at keeping track of the days, and so was Jiang Yun. Wu-ger and Tieniu had told her they expected to be delayed for a few days, and she’d also asked the coachman; adding it all up, a month and a half seemed about right.

In mid-August, Tang Qiao and Lin Hu took the children into town to visit their mother—they hadn’t visited this often before, but ever since Tang Qiao found out that Wu-ger and Tieniu weren’t home, she’d been worried that her mother might worry too much being alone, so she decided to visit more often.

When they returned that day, Wu-ger and Tieniu hadn’t come back yet, but the courtyard was bustling with activity. Lu Sanniang and Zou Ling from next door had come over to play, holding her child; Sun Douzi was there with Cui Xiaoyuan in his arms; and with the three older children Tang Qiao had brought along, the entire Tang family courtyard was nearly overflowing with people.

Tang Qiao:……

Lin Hu chuckled and said, “Looks like my mother-in-law isn’t bored at all—she’s probably going to drive us all crazy.”

“My mother would never do that,” Tang Qiao replied.

Jiang Yun certainly didn’t mind the children coming over, but as she listened to them playing and making a racket in the courtyard, she couldn’t help but think: If Wu-ger were here, he’d surely be happy and warmly welcome the children when they arrived in the morning, but once they got into the swing of things and started shouting at the top of their lungs, he’d probably complain that all the chatter was too annoying.

But Wu-ger was very smart and had a good temper. Instead of scolding the children or telling them not to make a racket, he would slip into the kitchen, come out shortly afterward with some food, and say, “Let’s stuff these kids’ mouths shut.”

Hahahaha. Wu-ger laughed heartily as he watched the children eat quietly, feeling that his plan had succeeded.

When Jiang Yun thought of this, her expression softened with tenderness.

I wonder how Wu-ger and Tieniu are doing…

August passed, and by September, Tang Qiao was unable to visit. September was the busy harvest season, and the Lin family’s fields needed all the help they could get, so Tang Qiao couldn’t come see her mother.

Jiang Yun wasn’t actually bored at home by herself. Zou Ling, Sanniang from the Lu family next door, would drop by from time to time; Douzi and Xiaoyuan visited often; and there was Xiangping, with whom she could really hit it off. When she went to Xiangping’s place to buy meat, they’d chat for an entire afternoon.

Every few days, Xiao Mi would bring over a dish prepared by his master.

The same went for A-Liang and Mrs. Tong—she’d drop by once every ten days or so, saying she was there to clean the kitchen and the shop.

But by the end of August, with Wu-ger and Tieniu still not back, Jiang Yun began to have trouble sleeping. She hardly went out to chat with Xiangping anymore, instead wandering over to the front door every now and then.

By September, Jiang Yun was growing increasingly restless—at breakfast time at the shop, customers would often ask when Boss Tang was coming back or if he had returned yet.

People in the neighborhood were also gossiping—though, of course, they wouldn’t say anything to Jiang Yun’s face; they just murmured behind her back: they said Tieniu came from a distinguished family, with elders serving as officials in Lujing, and that perhaps after this trip, Tieniu would no longer want the Wu-ger.

Or they’d say: Once Wu-ger and Tieniu arrived in Lujing, they were dazzled by all the wealth and luxury, which is why they didn’t come back to run the restaurant—and why Wu-ger had abandoned Jiang Yun, his own mother.

Chen Qiaolian came over to comfort her sister-in-law, scolding the neighbors for spreading such gossip and making up stories. Then she cautiously asked Sister Jiang, “Wu-ger will come back, won’t he? Did he say when he’d be back?”

As soon as Jiang Yun heard this, she knew Chen Qiaolian was afraid that Wu-ger wouldn’t come back—that Sanniang would lose her job and be unable to earn money—and that was what she was worried about.

Yes, indeed, everyone worries about their own family.

“Wu-ger said he’d come back, so he’ll definitely come back,” Jiang Yun said with certainty.

Chen Qiaolian gave an awkward smile. “Then what are you worried about, Sister-in-law?”

Jiang Yun sighed. “When they left, they only packed some summer clothes. Wu-ger didn’t want to carry too much heavy luggage because it was a hassle. They left in the summer, and now it’s already fall. The two kids are out there in a place where they don’t know a soul. Tieniu has been away from Lujing for several years now—I don’t know if he’s used to the food and drink there, or if he’s been taken advantage of…”

Upon hearing this, Chen Qiaolian initially thought her sister-in-law was worrying too much, but when she thought of Erlang, who was away, she couldn’t help but sigh as well. “You’re right, Sister-in-law. A mother worries even when her son is a thousand li away.”

The two chatted for a while.

However, while Jiang Yun had finished speaking and was quietly worrying to herself—she wouldn’t have brought it up with just anyone if Chen Qiaolian hadn’t asked—Chen Qiaolian, on the other hand, seized the opportunity to open up. She suddenly remembered Lu Erlang out there, who talked about it every day in the courtyard and even ran over to the Tang family to tell Sister Jiang all about it—

By the end of it all, Jiang Yun didn’t even want to talk about how Wu-ger and Tieniu were faring out there.

“We’re at home here; worrying about it is pointless. Let’s just drop the subject,” Jiang Yun said, sounding a bit troubled.

Chen Qiaolian’s maternal instincts had just been stirred, but before she could let them run wild and speak her mind, Sister Jiang cut her off—leaving her feeling a bit unsatisfied.

Jiang Yun saw the look on Chen Qiaolian’s face and laughed for a moment, then said, “All right, all right. Too much talk is annoying. I’m not talking about myself—we can just chat a little here. But if you go on like this every day at home, won’t Dalang take it to heart? He’ll start wondering if his younger brother left because of him. Nobody likes to hear that.”

“…I hadn’t thought of that.” Chen Qiaolian realized what Jiang’s sister-in-law meant—it was true. “Then I won’t say anything more. Dalang and his wife are just starting to get along better; I really shouldn’t be bringing up Erlang all the time.”

After Chen Qiaolian finished speaking, she looked at Sister Jiang again, as if seeing her for the first time.

Jiang Yun was no longer the sister-in-law she remembered—the one constantly held in check by Old Tang. She seemed like a stranger now, seeing things with far greater clarity, while Chen Qiaolian felt as if she were still going around in circles…

In mid-September, the chestnuts were ready in the mountains.

Lu Sanniang was feeling a bit anxious. Last year, that noble young lady had come to buy “Treasure Balls,” and the boss had promised to sell them this year, but now that it was time to make them, the boss still hadn’t returned.

What was she to do? If she offended the noble lady, who knew what trouble it might bring to the restaurant?

So Lu Sanniang took the first batch of harvested chestnuts to the Tang family’s house and explained the situation to Aunt Jiang—she wanted to experiment with making the “Treasure Balls.” If the noble lady came to buy them and the ones she made tasted exactly the same, she could offer them to the noble lady first.

Jiang Yun cheerfully agreed.

“Feel free to use the oven.”

By early October, with an abundance of chestnuts and peanuts, the “Treasure Balls” Lu Sanniang made were indeed a cut above the rest—even her own family raved about them, saying they were delicious.

But if you asked Old Man Cui or Aunt Jiang, Old Man Cui was blunt: “These won’t do—selling them would ruin the boss’s reputation.”

Jiang Yun just shook her head and admitted they weren’t quite up to par.

Lu Sanniang actually knew it herself; she’d tasted them and realized they fell four or five points short of the boss’s version.

Sigh.

“Don’t sigh. Wait until Wu-ger comes back, and then you can work on it little by little,” Jiang Yun said.

Cui Dabao overheard this and chimed in, “The boss has a natural talent for cooking. It was the same with Douzi when he was experimenting with chess-piece beans. The boss shared the method and recipe, but what Douzi made just wasn’t quite right—he had to tweak it.”

Cui Dabao explained all this because he was afraid the young girl might misunderstand and think the boss wasn’t sincere in teaching her—Lu Sanniang, that young girl, is kind-hearted and honest now, but who can guarantee what will happen in the future? If someone were to stir up trouble later on, and the young girl were tempted by personal gain, it wouldn’t be good if a rift developed between her and the boss.

The “Treasure Balls” the boss made sold incredibly well and quickly. Their shape and flavor were unique—even the mansions of the city’s high-ranking families and wealthy households considered them worthy of purchase.

“I know—the boss told me when he was making them. I’m just frustrated that I can’t seem to replicate that exact flavor he creates,” Lu Sanniang muttered to herself in frustration.

She’d have to study and practice more.

While fretting over her own skills, Lu Sanniang was also already anxious about the arrival of distinguished customers to buy the “Treasure Balls”—

It was a tough time for the young girl; she hadn’t lost any weight over the summer, but by mid-autumn, she had grown noticeably thinner.

In mid-October, the first autumn rain fell; the autumn wind was bleak and carried a hint of chill.

Early that morning, an unremarkable horse-drawn carriage entered Fengyuan City. The coachman heard the passenger inside say, “Please take us to the Tang family in Baxing District—it’s across from the back alley, by the locust tree.”

After traveling for a while, the rain grew heavier. The coachman stopped the carriage, put on a conical hat and a straw raincoat, climbed onto the driver’s seat, and continued on his way.

“Driver, if you can’t go on, let’s find a place to take shelter from the rain first,” said the person inside.

The driver chuckled and called out in a loud voice, “It’s no problem. We’ll be there soon, very soon.”

The passenger in the cart said no more.

“We left in the middle of the seventh month; it’s been nearly three months now,” Tang Xianling said, his longing for home growing intense.

Tieniu gave a soft “Mm-hmm,” and his three words—“We’re almost there”—were spoken with a rising intonation.

The cart turned into an alley, passing that towering locust tree. The rain had beaten the leaves to the ground. Tang Xianling lifted the curtain, not minding the rain drifting in, and said cheerfully, “What a fine tree!”

Tieniu smiled and agreed, “What a fine tree.”

Traveling in the rain was clearly a nuisance. On the way back earlier, they’d been on the boat for two days, and Tang Xianling had complained every day: “My clothes won’t dry; they’re going to start smelling.”

But now, right at his doorstep, with the rain falling harder and the trees looking desolate and bare, it was still a fine tree, fine weather, and a fine home—they had arrived.

As soon as the car came to a stop, Tang Xianling jumped out, but Tieniu held him back. Tieniu got out first, and from inside the car, Tang Xianling called out, “Umbrella—the umbrella!”

Tieniu took the umbrella, opened it, and—though he was already half-soaked himself—held it over his master’s head.

“You go call your mother; I’ll carry the luggage.”

The two didn’t have much luggage—just a single wooden chest. It was the dowry chest left by Tieniu’s mother, which had followed them on their wanderings all along. Inside were his maternal grandfather’s old clothes, his mother’s dressing box, some dried provisions, and seeds wrapped in many layers of oil paper, both inside and out.

As for their bundles of clothes, it didn’t matter if they got wet or dirty—they were home now, after all.

Jiang Yun was shelling peanuts in the main hall, still thinking about what Lu Sanniang had said: when would Wu-ger return? In truth, regardless of whether the nobleman bought the treasure ball or not, as long as Wu-ger and Tieniu returned safely, that was all that mattered. It’s raining so hard today—a cold snap is coming. Those two really are something—they didn’t bring a single warm garment with them on this trip. But Wu-ger is generous with his cash; he doesn’t skimp on his own comfort—

With that thought, Jiang Yun felt reassured.

She faintly heard Wu-ger calling her name.

Jiang Yun set down the peanuts she was holding and looked outside. The rain was pattering down, and she couldn’t help but mutter to herself, “Really, I’ve been missing my child so much I actually hear him calling me.”

“Mom!!!!”

Outside the door, Tang Xianling was shouting at the top of his lungs.

Tieniu knocked on the door and said, “I’m here,” then joined in shouting, “Mom!”

The two of them stood at the front door like little kids, each calling out “Mom” in turn, as if competing to see who could shout the loudest. Inside the main room, Jiang Yun had initially thought she’d misheard it again, but then she froze—and immediately a look of surprise and delight spread across her face. She hadn’t misheard it at all—the children were back!

“Wu-ger Tieniu, is that you two coming back?”

“We’re here, we’re here.”

“Oh my, it’s raining so hard.”

“Did you two bring umbrellas?”

“We’re here, we’re here.”

Jiang Yun came out of the main room and, without stopping to grab an umbrella, ran through the rain to open the door. Outside, Tang Xianling heard his mother’s barrage of questions and said, “Mom, don’t worry—don’t get wet—”

No sooner had he finished speaking than the door swung open.

Inside the courtyard, Jiang Yun—who hadn’t brought an umbrella and was already half-soaked—could see the person standing outside the door, their face lit up with an uncontrollable smile that deepened the wrinkles at the corners of their eyes. Outside the door, Tang Xianling shoved an oil-paper umbrella into his mother’s hands and gave her a big, joyful hug.

“We’re back!!!”

Jiang Yun: “Come on in, come on in. You silly boy, I’m soaking wet.”

“I’m not dry either,” Tang Xianling said with a grin, not caring in the least, his mouth chattering away like a machine gun: “I missed you and home so much. I never thought we’d be gone this long—something came up and held us up. Mom, I’ve got to tell you—I have some huge, wonderful news…”

“Hurry inside first and wipe yourself down. Don’t catch a cold.” Jiang Yun’s eyes were filled with concern. This kid—forget about whatever good news for now; he needed to wipe off the rainwater right away.

Tieniu carried his luggage himself, without needing his mother’s help. Jiang Yun invited the coachman inside for a drink of water, suggesting he wait until the rain let up a bit before heading out—it was pouring too hard right now.

“Sure, thanks.” Seeing how kind and hospitable the family was, the driver agreed right away.

The rain was indeed heavy.

After that, the courtyard was a flurry of activity, but everyone was happy. Jiang Yun was happy—her heart was finally at ease; Tang Xianling and Tieniu were happy too—they had finally made it home; and the coachman was glad as well—thank goodness he’d stayed instead of leaving, given how heavy the rain was.

By evening, as it was getting dark, the rain had finally let up a little. After eating a bowl of steaming hot noodles at the Tang family’s house, the coachman didn’t dare wait any longer—fearing it would be dark before he left—so he braved the light rain, hitched up the horse-drawn carriage, and headed home.

Candles were lit in the main hall.

Tang Xianling had just taken a bath and changed into some old clothes; he felt incredibly comfortable. He sat down on his favorite reclining bed and said to his mother, “We were about to leave, but then we heard the fleet coming back.”

“What do you mean?” Jiang Yun didn’t understand.

Tieniu, standing nearby, explained the background, briefly recounting how he and Xianling had gone to the Huangfu family to retrieve his mother’s belongings and the old clothes left by his maternal grandfather, and he also gave a brief account of the Zhao family’s situation.

Jiang Yun nodded as she listened, though she frowned. Tieniu hadn’t told the whole story, but she could tell from what he said that the Huangfu family was no good—Tieniu had been lost out in the world for all these years, and his elders hadn’t cared a bit; when he finally returned, they simply handed him his mother’s belongings and sent him on his way.

What kind of elders were these? They’d never taken care of Tieniu at all.

She saw that neither Tieniu nor Wu-ger seemed to take it to heart, so she held back the words of comfort she’d originally intended to offer—since neither of the children was angry, bringing it up would only be like stabbing them in the heart. So she simply said, “Your maternal grandfather loved you and worried about you.”

“Yes. We’re planning to go back to the village once the rain stops, find a good spot for Grandpa and Mom, and build another grave so we can pay our respects,” said Tang Xianling.

Jiang Yun nodded. “That’s the right thing to do.” She then turned to Tieniu and said, “Once we have some old clothes and personal belongings, you and Xianling should fold some joss paper money yourselves. When you visit the graves, you must call out to your mother and your maternal grandfather’s spirits to come back. If that doesn’t work, I’ll have to ask the shaman to see what other rituals are needed. We’ll need to invite the elders here so that every year, when we burn incense and joss paper, your mother and your maternal grandfather can receive them.”

Tang Xianling used to be skeptical of such superstitions, but now he listened intently.

“All right, we’ll keep that in mind.”

After discussing the matter of burning joss paper at the gravesite, Tang Xianling brought up the reason why they’d taken so long to return.

Unlike Tieniu, who got straight to the point, Tang Xianling’s way of speaking was quite entertaining—especially when chatting with family. Since he hadn’t seen his mother in a long time, he deliberately tried to cheer her up, speaking as if he were telling a story: “…As soon as I heard, ‘Oh my, the ships are coming back,’ we exchanged a glance and decided not to leave. We stayed there to wait for the fleet’s return, hoping to buy some seeds and goods from out of town.”

“Mom, I’m really good at managing our finances. Since staying at an inn was expensive, I rented a small single room for a month. The people from Lujing said the fleet would be back in about half a month to a month, but who would’ve thought it’d end up taking nearly two months?”

“Most of the merchant ships in that fleet belong to the imperial court, and some of the smaller vessels are owned by major merchants in Lujing. Once the fleet returns and they start taking inventory, we won’t even be able to get close to them.”

Jiang Yun grew anxious as she listened. “So what did the two of you do?”

“Fortunately, my maternal grandfather left a favor with the Zhao family,” Tang Xianling said, sounding genuinely moved. Tieniu and he had never intended to ask the Zhao family to repay that favor—

They had no intention of staying in Lujing or holding office; if they accepted the favor, it would seem as though their futures had been bought with their maternal grandfather’s life.

But in the end, they unexpectedly found themselves turning to them for help.

Still, the Zhao family was very kind. Upon hearing what the two of them were asking for, they paused for a moment and asked, “Are you two sure about such a minor matter?”

Tieniu was certain.

Later, when the matter was settled, the Zhao family said, “Such a small matter is merely a trivial favor—it hardly counts as repaying a life-saving debt. The agreement we made earlier still stands.”

The Zhao family spoke earnestly, but Tieniu and Tang Xianling had no intention of asking for their help again.

The matter was settled.

“…We paid for the chili seeds ourselves; we didn’t take any cash from the Zhao family. Just being able to connect with that wealthy merchant on their way back through their contacts was already more than enough.”

Jiang Yun nodded. “That’s only right.” They should buy what they needed themselves.

That night, the three of them talked for most of the night. In the end, Tieniu carried his husband back to their room to sleep. Jiang Yun yawned, her eyes brimming with tenderness. “Go to sleep. There’s no rush to get up tomorrow morning. Now that you two are back, sleep in a little.”

“Got it, Mother.”

The next day, Tieniu—who was usually an early riser—actually slept in with his husband until the sun was high in the sky.

Afterward, the autumn rain gradually eased. Tang Xianling and Tieniu first went to Xiangtangzi to bathe, then to the East and West Markets to finalize their orders, took care of some household chores, and discussed the start dates for work with Lu Sanniang, Xiao Mi, Mrs. Tong, and A-Liang.

Once the rain stopped and the ground had dried out a bit over the next couple of days, the two of them didn’t dare delay, for fear it might rain again—the road back to the village was all mud and difficult to travel.

Jiang Yun sought out a shaman and inquired about the funeral rites.

Tang Xianling spent five taels of silver to hire the shamaness and take her to Xu Village to conduct the funeral rites.

In those days, the profession of shaman was considered part of the “lower nine classes,” holding little social standing; everyone avoided them out of fear of offending them, but it was indeed a lucrative trade. When Tang Xianling heard “five taels of silver,” he didn’t haggle over the price and agreed without a word.

Since the shaman could communicate with the spirits and help them bring back the souls of her maternal grandfather and mother, they decided to settle down here permanently.

Jiang Yun also went back to Xu Village.

They rented a carriage, with Jiang Yun and the spiritual medium sitting together. They also bought incense, candles, joss paper, and paper for folding ingots—Tang Xianling and Tieniu would fold them themselves later.

Fortunately, it didn’t rain on the way back—it was a rare sunny day.

They stayed in Xu Village for seven days to negotiate with the village chief—the high mountains in the back were unclaimed, while the slightly lower ones in front belonged to Xu Village; villagers were buried there upon their deaths, and they also hired skilled villagers to dig graves and make coffins.

Although these were symbolic graves, the full funeral rites had to be observed.

The funeral mistress oversaw the proceedings from the side, while Tang Xianling and Tieniu learned to fold paper ingots. The two studied the process with great care and attention, folding each paper ingot one by one, each imbued with their longing for their loved ones.

As they fumbled and fiddled, white paper scattered along the path.

Two new graves appeared on the hill behind Xu Village. Tang Xianling and Tieniu knelt before them, burning the paper ingots; with each one they burned, they chanted the names of their maternal grandfather and mother.

“Grandfather Ji Zheng, please come home.”

Mother Ji Zhu returned home.

……

It hadn’t rained for the latter half of October; every day was sunny.

The family of three hosted a funeral banquet for the villagers; once the arrangements were settled the next day, they returned home.

Zhang Huai and Wang Susu had prepared plenty of provisions for the two of them: green-shelled duck eggs, wild mushrooms from the mountains, and a large basket of wild chestnuts…

“Uncle, Tieniu and I brought back some seeds from our trip to Lujing. I think they’d be perfect for planting in our village. These seeds are best sown next April when the weather clears up a bit. I’ll talk to you about it then.”

Zhang Huai: “Talk about what? If you don’t have anywhere to plant them but still want to eat them, I’ll set aside one mu of our family’s land for you—all for you to plant. When the time comes, you and Tieniu just need to come and haul them away. If you’re too busy, your uncle and I will deliver them to you after we’ve harvested our own.”

“Uncle, I’m in this to make money—big money, actually. Of course, we’re talking about a business deal—we’ll split the profits!” Tang Xianling always perked up whenever he talked about chili peppers.

Tieniu nodded.

Seeing the two of them acting so mysterious and eager, Zhang Huai couldn’t help but chuckle. He didn’t think much of it—it was just growing some vegetables, after all—and immediately said, “Sure, then when you two come back next year, we’ll talk about the details.”