Chapter Two: A Tangled Account

In later generations, those working in Human Resources summed up an experience: In any team, no matter how perfect it is or how outstanding its members, there will always be some who play the role of the fool, some who act as schemers, and some who become villains. Even if every member chosen is a top-notch elite, all good people—even saints—once they form a group, someone will inevitably turn into the fool, the schemer, or the villain.

If one were to view Xia Shan’ao as a team, then the villain of this team could only be Wu Sanhu’s mother, Aunt Wu Qi, née Zhou. This woman was like a landmine in Xia Shan’ao, liable to explode at any moment.

...

As soon as he heard that Aunt Qi was heading to his house, Wu Ning’s first instinct was to turn and run; this woman was coming to ask for money. As for what money? To be honest, Wu Ning couldn’t say—it was a muddled account.

Five years ago, his disfigured uncle brought him to Xia Shan’ao, ostensibly to seek refuge with kin, but they were fugitives, without house or land, facing daily survival issues. Yet, people of this era were much more sincere than those of later times. Among kin, even if life was hard, one couldn’t bear to see a family member starve.

So, the old village chief offered them a vacant house, partitioned off a courtyard for Wu Ning and his uncle; Seventh Uncle’s family also lent them an acre of vegetable field to help them get by. One neighbor gave a bushel of grain, another a bundle of firewood—they pieced together a “home” for the uncle and nephew to start anew.

Back then, Seventh Uncle’s household was flourishing, so giving up an acre of wasteland was no big deal. Aunt Qi wasn’t entirely pleased, but with the old chief as patriarch, she had no say.

Yet, in this era, life was fragile—one never knew when Heaven would remember you and take you away. Seventh Uncle, a robust man in his thirties, suddenly fell ill and died two years ago, leaving Aunt Qi to raise Wu Sanhu and Wu Niu, her two children.

Life didn’t go as well as before, but with Aunt Qi’s shrewd and opportunistic nature, they managed to get by. The trouble started when, with Seventh Uncle alive, it was clear that the acre was lent freely to Wu Ning and his uncle—no rent was ever mentioned.

These past two years, perhaps seeing Wu Ning’s household improving, Wu Zhou began to plot. At the turn of the year, she suddenly demanded payment, insisting the acre had been rented to them and now wanted back rent for five years, including arrears for previous years.

Frankly, for the sake of Seventh Uncle and Sanhu, Wu Ning had no objections to paying rent. In their hardest times, they were helped—this favor should be repaid. Besides, four strings of coins per year was manageable for Wu Ning now.

But to pay five years at once was another matter—that was a full two strings of coins! Not only for fugitives like Wu Ning and his uncle, but even for Xia Shan’ao’s peasant families, it was no small sum. Some families couldn’t save that much in five, seven, or eight years.

It truly wasn’t that Wu Ning wanted to default—he simply had no money to give.

This was the fate of a “high-spec” transmigrator—truly miserable!

...

“Ninth Brother, you’d better run!”

Seeing Wu Ning frozen in place, Sanhu grinned with his chubby mouth and reminded him again. “Once my mother arrives, you won’t be able to escape!”

Wu Ning wanted to run too, but he knew it was pointless—he could escape today, but not forever! That fierce woman was a tyrant in Xia Shan’ao; only the old chief’s words carried any weight, and everyone else was at her mercy.

Of course, that was only when Aunt Qi was in a good mood; otherwise, even the old chief couldn’t help. If he ran today, Aunt Qi would block his doorway until the end of time.

“So be it!”

He sighed inwardly—life in the Great Tang was hard, and poverty was once again knocking.

He turned back into the house and took out a half-full cloth bag, containing a little over a string of coins—this was everything saved since spring, with Wu Ning and his uncle subsisting on porridge and vegetables, scraping together every penny.

He could only hope the woman was in a good mood and might let him off easily today.

As he waited for Aunt Qi to storm in, a lively shout sounded from outside—more visitors.

“Ninth Brother, Grandfather sent us to bring you some grain!”

A boy about Wu Ning’s age entered, carrying a bulging sack in his arms. Wu Ning’s mood brightened immediately. This was Wu Li, fifth uncle’s son, eighth in their generation, and one of Wu Ning’s closest peers in the village.

“No need to rush—I’ll fetch it myself later.”

“Hmph.” Wu Li wrinkled his nose at Wu Ning’s words. “As if! If we didn’t bring it, would you ever come get it?”

With a thump, he dropped the sack onto the low table and let out a long breath—it was clearly heavy, well over a bushel.

He glanced sidelong at Wu Sanhu, immediately losing his good humor. “What are you doing here so early?”

“What, did your mother send you to scrounge a meal again?”

Sanhu lowered his head and subconsciously stepped back. “No... not scrounging.”

“Then why are you here!?”

“Enough.” Wu Ning couldn’t bear to watch. Sanhu was genuinely afraid of Wu Li, so much so that he could barely speak in his presence.

He scolded Wu Li, “Why do you always pick on him?”

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Wu Li spat contemptuously. “I just can’t stand the faces of those two!”

Sanhu flushed red, unable to express his grievance.

“I’m... I’m here to deliver a message.”

“What message!?”

“My... my mother is coming.”

“What?” Wu Li was stunned. “Your mother? What for?”

He stared, baffled, “She’s not coming to collect debts, is she?”

That woman’s flip-flopping and her demands for rent from Wu Ning’s family were well known in the village—easy enough to guess.

At that, Wu Li turned and ran.

“I’m going to get Grandfather!”

Only the old chief could keep that woman in check.

“Come back.”

Wu Ning quickly stopped him. “We can’t trouble Grandfather with everything.”

“Then what will you do?” Wu Li was anxious. “That woman won’t let it go!”

“Take a breath first.” Wu Ning calmed Wu Li, whose fiery temperament was a mystery.

“She’ll come, so be it—she won’t eat me, will she?”

“Besides, for Seventh Uncle’s sake, the money should be paid.”

At the mention of Seventh Uncle, Wu Li softened.

Seventh Uncle had always been good to the children—whenever their family had meat, he’d think of them.

Seeing Wu Li relax, Wu Ning continued, “Aunt has had a hard time raising Sanhu and Qiao’er. If life were easier, she wouldn’t care about the rent.”

“You don’t know what she wants the money for!” Wu Li started glaring again. “Do you know why she’s asking?”

“Why?”

Wu Li glanced at Sanhu. “She said it’s for Sanhu to get married!”

“What... what?” Wu Ning was dumbfounded, instinctively glancing at the bashful Sanhu.

“This... this chubby fellow is only twelve, isn’t he?”

“Exactly!” Wu Li grinned. “She’s a real piece of work—he’s two years younger than me and dares to marry before I do. He’s asking for it!”

Wu Ning burst out laughing, finally understanding why Wu Li had been so irritable toward Sanhu lately—it was jealousy!

“Hey, Sanhu,” Wu Ning teased.

“Ah?” Sanhu answered sheepishly. “Ninth Brother, what is it?”

“I heard you’re getting married?”

“No... no!” Sanhu blushed even harder, his fat hands waving like fans.

Then he murmured, “It’s my mother... she’s arranging it.”

“I don’t want to sleep in the same bed as a girl—it’s too crowded...”

...

“Hahaha!”

Wu Ning laughed heartily, and even Wu Li couldn’t hold back, thoroughly amused by the simpleton.

He staggered over to Sanhu, patting his shoulder. “My foolish brother, you can hug her while you sleep.”

“No way,” Sanhu shook his head seriously. “It’s even more crowded.”

...

The two exchanged glances and burst out laughing again.

Wu Ning, left speechless after his laughter, sighed, “Your mother has spoiled you into such a state—how do you know so little?”

Children in the mountains matured early, even more so in this era; by fifteen or sixteen, they’d be married. But Sanhu... as modern people would say, a “giant baby.”

...

This commotion eased Wu Li’s irritation, and he no longer insisted on fetching Grandfather. Wu Ning took the opportunity to have the two help move tables and utensils to the roadside, waiting for Aunt Qi.

As for why they moved everything to the road...

There was no choice—Wu Ning and his uncle couldn’t survive on just that acre of vegetables. Taking advantage of the crowds visiting Changluo Mountain and those coming to inquire at Wenxian Temple, Wu Ning had set up a stall on the main road, selling rough wine, sweet soup, and yogurt pudding.

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That’s right—he wasn’t selling tea, but yogurt.

Tea was not popular in the Tang Dynasty; it was said only nobles and literati in the big cities drank it, and the method differed vastly from later times. As for yogurt, Wu Ning only discovered in this era that it was already a staple, widely consumed in Tang times.

...

——————————

Half the stall was set up. The three had just entered the courtyard to carry out the wine jars and yogurt urns when a shrill voice rang out.

“Is Ninth Brother at home?”

With that piercing call, Wu Sanhu’s infamous mother arrived right on schedule.

But this time, Aunt Qi only shouted from outside, not entering the courtyard.

Wu Ning felt his heart skip at the sound, but had no choice and replied.

“Aunt Qi, you’re here. Please, come in.”

No sooner had he spoken than a middle-aged woman entered, dressed in a high-waisted skirt, narrow cross-collared jacket, and a short-sleeved overcoat. Behind her timidly followed a little girl—Sanhu’s sister, Qiao’er.

Qiao’er was nothing like her chubby brother; she was thin, so thin that Wu Ning and Wu Li felt pity for her. If not for the round-necked jacket passed down from her brother years ago, making her look a bit bulky, anyone would have felt sorry for this little girl who was nothing but skin and bones.

This was also one reason Wu Li disliked Sanhu. Aunt Qi gave all the good things to Sanhu—even Qiao’er’s share.

“Aunt’s here!” Wu Ning greeted, and the cheerful camaraderie among the three boys faded, leaving only a heavy silence.

“Of course I’m here,” Aunt Qi stood in the courtyard, raising her brows, “My, Ninth Brother, you’ve shot up again in just a few days. Looks like life’s treating you well.”

Wu Ning didn’t respond—there was nothing to say. Whether life was good or not, her next words would surely be about money.

He fetched two clay bowls, filled them with yogurt, and offered them to the mother and daughter. “Aunt, please have some yogurt to quench your thirst.”

As he spoke, he also picked up the half-full cloth bag.

Better to take the initiative than wait for her to ask.

But Aunt Qi wasn’t so easily satisfied. If she didn’t seize some extra advantage, she wouldn’t be Xia Shan’ao’s fiercest matron.

...

She took both bowls without hesitation.

As for Qiao’er, she shrank back, her big eyes furtively watching her mother.

Aunt Qi glared fiercely at Qiao’er, then gestured sharply toward the kitchen.

Qiao’er, frightened, took another step back. “Mother... Qiao’er is hungry...”

“Hey!! You little ingrate!” Aunt Qi’s temper flared instantly. “Have I starved you? Hungry? You just ate breakfast and now you’re hungry again!”

“I’ll show you hungry!”

“I’ll show you!”

As she spoke, she reached out to hit her child.

Wu Ning was both amused and helpless, quickly stepping forward to intervene.

“Aunt, please calm down, please calm down.”

“Qiao’er is growing—eating more is normal.”

He stepped between mother and daughter, calling to Wu Li, “There’s food in the kitchen—bring it out for Qiao’er.”

...

Wu Li rolled his eyes—this woman had mastered the art of mooching meals.

He hadn’t wanted to listen to Wu Ning—let her make a fuss, so what? But seeing Qiao’er’s pitiful state, she probably hadn’t really eaten breakfast. He couldn’t bear it and brought out a bowl of millet porridge from the kitchen.

...

——————————

Tender seedlings, so very fragile, can be nurtured with a bit of support.

Collect, vote, and support...

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