Shi Wuxiang was upright and strict by nature. Combined with his high intelligence and the memories of the original occupant, his words left Yuan Xiangxiang flustered and Wang Xiaohua utterly speechless.
“Brother Zhao, mind your household—after all, they are elders. You can’t let words go so far,” a villager reminded.
“Yes, Brother Zhao used to be obedient and sensible, how could he change so after marriage? Your second aunt is concerned; she shouldn’t speak like that!”
The remarks escalated, particularly from the notorious, sharp-tempered women of Xiahe Village, who were accustomed to bullying those weaker than themselves.
Shi Wuxiang, realizing the potential danger, tugged Yuan Zhao away. He could not bear to linger another moment in the filth and hostility of Xiahe Village.
“Where do you think you’re running off to after just scolding people?”
Yuan Zhao, pulled along by Shi Wuxiang, turned his head and shouted back, “Uncle, if we don’t run now, you’ll have to chase us with dogs!”
The villagers seethed in frustration.
Yuan Zhao couldn’t help laughing, his bright smile contagious, even bringing a trace of life to Shi Wuxiang’s otherwise stern face.
Shi Wuxiang frowned slightly. “For you to laugh now—rarely do I see someone so reasonable amidst such hostility.”
Wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, Yuan Zhao said hoarsely, “The villagers care a lot about these things. I can’t talk back to elders; they’ll hold grudges. I won’t come here again unless necessary.”
“What about the basket?” Shi Wuxiang asked.
“…You already know.” Yuan Zhao’s tone was sheepish. He hadn’t expected it to be discovered so easily. “Just give it to Uncle Daxiong when we return with the ox cart—it’s nearly finished anyway.”
Making the basket from thorny vines was quick; the delay had only been due to fieldwork. Now, with the land inspected, he could finish it.
Shi Wuxiang recognized his earnestness. While most villagers were honest and kind-hearted like him, he doubted the baskets—though useful—would fetch the twenty copper coins he offered.
“Don’t do this again. Once the basket is finished, take the usual payment. I just opened two taels of silver—use it for the household,” Shi Wuxiang said.
“I still have some on hand. When you travel, it’s wise to carry a bit of silver, to buy books or enjoy meals with friends,” Yuan Zhao replied.
Men always carried silver to avoid embarrassment.
Shi Wuxiang nodded. “Monthly allowance will continue. Buying books can wait—priority is household needs: rice, flour, oil. Ran Ran is nearly catching up to you in size.”
Yuan Zhao, embarrassed, admitted, “I’m still growing!”
“Yes, and still growing.”
At fifteen, he was in the midst of a growth spurt. Extra money meant more meat, a balanced diet, and proper growth—particularly important for his lean, undernourished frame.
With slightly improved conditions and access to wild vegetables, he was visibly gaining some weight. Yet Shi Wuxiang still wondered where his energy came from.
The two returned to Qingluan Village along a narrow mountain path. Yuan Zhao, restless by nature, insisted on foraging a few mushrooms along the way before reluctantly moving on.
Shi Wuxiang found it a little amusing—the way Yuan Zhao was acting, it was as if he wanted to pick the mountains of Xiahe Village completely clean.
By the time they got home, Madam Shi was already cooking. The mushrooms Yuan Zhao had gathered actually came in handy; she made a whole pot of mushroom soup. On a gloomy day like this, nothing felt better than a bowl of hot soup.
The family sat around the table eating, each lost in their own thoughts.
Shi Wuxiang had now fully settled into the household. As the only grown man in the Shi family, he had to take responsibility and make decisions.
“The fields have already been planted. With the plentiful rain this spring, it’s enough to check on them from time to time. As for earning money, leave that to me. We should buy more meat to eat regularly—nutrition has to keep up,” Shi Wuxiang said, voicing what he had been thinking.
He knew how important crops were—especially since this land had only just been reclaimed with great effort. But if they wore themselves out tending the fields and fell ill, the loss would outweigh the gain.
Madam Shi nodded slightly. Having lost her husband and with her eldest son in poor health, she understood better than anyone how difficult it was to care for the sick.
Yuan Zhao, however, did not quite agree and muttered softly, “The fields still need careful tending…”
“When the adults are talking, children should listen first. If you have opinions, we can discuss them later,” Shi Wuxiang said.
Yuan Zhao’s eyes widened. A child? He was being treated like a child?!
Yuan Yuan covered his mouth and snickered. His brother was a child too.
Shi Wuxiang continued, “I’ve also decided that next year I’ll sit for the examinations again. My current job won’t interfere with my studies, though I’ll have to trouble all of you to take on more at home.”
There was a hint of embarrassment in his tone. He had always been alone before and never needed to rely on others—this was a first for him.
“Really?!” Yuan Zhao asked, pleasantly surprised.
Even Madam Shi and the Shi siblings were taken aback. They had all assumed that since Shi Wuxiang had taken up a job, he would no longer pursue the examinations. After all, most people believed one could not focus on two things at once—it would be too exhausting.
But Shi Wuxiang said he would continue—and that it wouldn’t interfere!
“Studying is about all I can do anyway,” Shi Wuxiang said with a helpless smile. “Besides, if I pass the provincial exam, the state stipend will increase.”
“Taxes!” Yuan Zhao suddenly remembered. “Doesn’t a xiucai get tax exemptions?”
Shi Wuxiang nodded with a smile. It was impressive that Yuan Zhao had only just thought of it—he himself had forgotten earlier and had been worrying about the autumn grain taxes. Now that he remembered, it seemed all that worry had been unnecessary.
Madam Shi could not help but laugh. So he had only just realized—it really showed how simple-minded he could be.
“That means we get to keep all our harvest after autumn. The poll tax won’t be completely waived, but it will still be much lighter for us,” Shi Wuxiang explained.
The laws of Dasheng stipulated that households with a xiucai were exempt from labor service and most taxes, though the poll tax exemption applied only to parents and spouse—siblings would still have to pay.
However, they were all still young—not yet of age—so it amounted to only a few hundred copper coins. There was no need to worry about it too early.
“Then you should take the family money to buy books,” Yuan Zhao said, unusually insistent on this matter.
“What would it look like if I took all our savings just to buy books?” Shi Wuxiang frowned slightly, his refined, scholarly features carrying an air of uprightness. “I’ll handle that myself. You’re too thin—you should eat more meat. From now on, this household will eat meat every day.”
Wild greens might be tasty, but a balanced diet was necessary for strength and health.
The Shi family did not object. Before their decline, this had been their normal way of living in town.
For Yuan Zhao, being able to eat his fill was already a blessing. Whether there was meat or not did not matter much to him—but he could not bring himself to argue against Shi Wuxiang either, since it was for everyone’s good.
He nodded obediently.
“In a couple of days it’ll be market day. Zhao-ge’er, you can go and buy what we need,” Madam Shi decided. “Check what’s missing at home and get a bit of everything. It’s getting warmer—we should also buy some cloth and make lighter clothes.”
Yuan Zhao nodded repeatedly. “I’ll take care of it.”
After Qingming, the weather turned fully warm, each day hotter than the last.
It had been a long time since Yuan Zhao last went to the market. He had wanted to bring the Shi siblings along, but they all refused.
He figured they were probably afraid of running into people they used to know.
So in the end, he only took Yuan Yuan with him.
“Brother, I’m scared,” Yuan Yuan said. He had never been to town before, and being so small among the crowd made him anxious.
“I’m holding your hand,” Yuan Zhao reassured him, gripping his hand tightly as they squeezed through the crowd. “Let’s buy rice, flour, and meat first—get the important things done. Then I’ll buy you some fruit.”
Yuan Yuan, having no need to pretend in front of his brother, immediately perked up at the promise of treats and nodded enthusiastically. “We should also buy some for Brother Yue and Sister Ranran!”
Yuan Zhao pinched his chubby little hand, his bright eyes full of laughter. “We’ll buy for everyone. And something for your granny too.”
Most of the market stalls sold everyday goods, along with vendors bringing mountain produce.
In the village, such goods were ordinary—barely enough to get by—but in town they could fetch a decent price. After all, there were many wealthy households who liked such things.
The money Yuan Zhao had secretly saved all came from this. Now that the crops were planted and only needed occasional tending—and with the fields close to the mountains—he could gather mountain goods whenever he had time.
They were profitable—he could not afford to give that up!
Familiar with the town, Yuan Zhao first took Yuan Yuan to buy rice and flour. Then, carrying a heavy basket, he headed toward Xiangxiang Restaurant. Ah Xiang had said they could leave their things there temporarily so they could continue shopping freely.
The closer they got, the more crowded it became. The restaurant was especially packed—people taking advantage of market day to dine out. With the academy on break, groups of students in matching attire could be seen heading in.
Ah Xiang should have been like them.
Yuan Zhao felt a quiet sense of regret.