Chapter 19: Returning Home

For a farmer, this price was a bit steep for a full bolt; spending over a hundred wen would make his wife unhappy when he got home. He decided to buy less—half a bolt would be enough for Mrs. Chen to make two or three sets of clothes.

"Then give me half a bolt," Father Zhu asked after a moment's thought. "Can you make it a bit cheaper?"

The shop assistant thought for a moment, glanced toward the counter, and whispered, "I can see you're buying this for your wife, Brother. She's a lucky woman. Our manager is quite perceptive; if it were our own relatives buying cloth, he'd give a discount. Tell you what, when you settle the bill, just say I'm your eldest cousin from your seventh aunt's side. For half a bolt, I'll knock off three wen. Any more than that and I really can't do it."

*So fake!*

Zhu Ping'an curled his lip. He had clearly seen the exchange of glances between the assistant and the manager just now.

"Alright then, thank you, brother," Father Zhu said. He was focused on the cotton cloth for Mrs. Chen and hadn't noticed the secret look between the assistant and the manager. Hearing the offer, he was actually quite moved.

Just because Father Zhu didn't care didn't mean Zhu Ping'an didn't have ideas. Recalling the female-oriented transmigration farming novels he had read on Qidian, the heroines could always buy scraps and leftover trimmings from cloth shops at very cheap prices to sew into pouches and sell for profit. While he didn't know how to sew pouches himself, his mother, Mrs. Chen, and the others certainly did.

He scanned the area. Sure enough, there were many discarded scraps under the counter. They were small, about the size of a palm, and useless for anything significant, so the shopkeepers generally ignored them. They were wrinkled and dirty from being stepped on by the constant stream of customers.

"Um, can I have some of those scraps to play with?" Zhu Ping'an asked in a curious voice, pointing his chubby little hand at the dirty scraps under the counter.

The shop assistant followed his finger. *Oh, he just wants the useless scraps.*

"Oh, those? Pick up whatever you want to play with," the assistant said dismissively. He had the authority to decide on such things; they were too small to be useful, the manager didn't want them, and it took time to sweep them away. Since the kid was curious, he might as well take them. After all, he had already made money from the father.

It cost nothing, so it was a freebie worth taking.

And so, clutching his small basket, Zhu Ping'an waddled over. He stuffed his bottom as much as he could into the basket, pressing the scraps down firmly to make room for more.

This time, it wasn't just Zhu Pingchuan who felt embarrassed; even Father Zhu, who was handing over the money to settle the bill, turned bright red.

The shop assistant didn't mind and said casually, "Don't mind it, sir. They're just scraps, not worth much."

By the time everything was settled and they were heading home in the ox cart, the sun was beginning to set. Father Zhu flicked his whip, driving the ox cart on the return journey. The whip cracked in the air, but he was careful not to strike the ox, and he hummed a tuneless song under his breath.

Sitting in the ox cart, Zhu Ping'an looked at the array of daily necessities on the cart and then at his overflowing little basket. He had gained so much; his heart was filled with a sense of happiness.

By the time they reached home, thin wisps of cooking smoke were rising from the mountain village; families were starting to prepare dinner as evening approached.

Before the cart even entered the gate, the chirpy voice of Fourth Aunt could be heard.

"Oh! Second Brother is back! How much did you sell them for? What did you buy?"

If this were the modern era, Zhu Ping'an would definitely recommend Fourth Aunt for a job as an airport security officer. Look at her, inspecting everything on the cart, including Zhu Ping'an's little basket.

Fortunately, the basket only contained the scraps from the cloth shop. Fourth Aunt grabbed two large handfuls of scraps before stopping sheepishly under Zhu Ping'an's watchful gaze, having failed to discover the secret hidden beneath the scraps.

Grandmother arrived soon after. She first checked the items Father Zhu had bought, then asked about the sale of the bamboo weavings and wild mushrooms.

Father Zhu answered each question and handed over the wrapped copper coins.

Looking at the money, Grandmother saw there were over ten wen more than usual. She was very satisfied and asked for the reason. Father Zhu explained how Zhu Ping'an had been hawking the goods, prompting Grandmother to praise the boy.

"Did Zhi'er's wildflowers sell?" Fourth Aunt asked with a giggle, covering her mouth.

"I did!" Zhu Ping'an replied, tilting his chubby little face up with a bright smile.

Fourth Aunt didn't believe him at all, thinking the little brat was just talking nonsense, so she laughed even harder.

After helping Grandmother put the things away, Father Zhu led his two sons back to the east wing with their baskets and hampers.

"You're back? Why did it take so long? You're later than usual," Mrs. Chen said. She was busy mending the crotch of another pair of open-crotch pants for Zhu Ping'an. Seeing the three of them return, she stopped her needlework and looked up toward the door.

Then, Mrs. Chen noticed Zhu Ping'an trudging along on his short legs to shut the wing door.

"Are you tired? Why did you close the door?" Mrs. Chen asked, surprised.

"See if you like this. We brought it back from town. I thought it would look beautiful if you made clothes with it."

At that moment, Father Zhu stepped forward with a silly grin, pulling half a bolt of white cloth with pink peach blossoms from the basket and presenting it to her like a treasure.

"How much did this cost? You're always wasting money," Mrs. Chen complained, though her smile was irrepressible, even if her eyes showed a hint of heartache for the expense.

"Mama, this is for you." Zhu Ping'an waddled over and offered two meat buns wrapped in paper from his little basket.

"What's this?" Mrs. Chen asked curiously.

"Meat buns from town. The dough is soft and the filling is delicious!" Zhu Ping'an leaned against Mrs. Chen's lap, grinning widely.

"You little rascal, wasting money too. Share them with your brother; Mama won't eat them," Mrs. Chen said, stroking Zhu Ping'an's little head with a gentle smile.

Zhu Ping'an shook his head. "Brother and I already ate in town."

Mrs. Chen insisted the boys eat the buns, but Zhu Ping'an insisted she eat them. Mrs. Chen turned to look at her eldest son, and Zhu Ping'an nodded repeatedly, claiming they had already eaten.

After a moment of thought, Mrs. Chen split the two meat buns into four pieces, so the family of four could each have half.

Simple happiness—Zhu Ping'an felt these meat buns tasted many times better than the ones they had eaten in town.

After eating the buns, Father Zhu gave a brief account of the trip to town. When he mentioned that he had managed to save a few dozen extra wen this time, Mrs. Chen's eyes lit up; it seemed this "piece of wood" was finally starting to show some sense.

However, when Father Zhu mentioned that Zhu Ping'an's wildflowers had sold for over a hundred wen and that a benefactor had even given him two silver nuggets, Zhu Ping'an knew he was in trouble.

Sure enough, Mrs. Chen's large eyes fixed on Zhu Ping'an, sparkling as if silver coins were flying out of them.

"It's not safe for a little child to carry so much money. Hand it over, quickly!" Mrs. Chen said, hands on her hips, looking quite spirited.

The small arm could not overcome the large leg.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Chen was happily counting money on the table.

"One, two, three, four... one hundred and eighteen." As she counted, she felt something was wrong. She turned to ask Zhu Ping'an, "Didn't you say it was one hundred and twenty wen?"

"Two wen went toward the meat buns," Zhu Ping'an said, his face darkening.

"Mm," Mrs. Chen nodded.

Something still felt off. Mrs. Chen felt like she had forgotten something.

The next second, she turned and asked fiercely, "Where are those two silver nuggets?"

Zhu Ping'an retreated, covering his pockets with his chubby hands. *Oh, Mama, can't you leave a little for me? Money might not be everything, but you can't do anything without it!*

Mrs. Chen couldn't hear his inner thoughts. Of course, even if she could, she would have pretended not to hear.

Zhu Ping'an gripped his pockets tightly with his little hands.

But...

It was utterly useless.

"Here they are. Mama, keep them for me to save up so I can marry a beautiful wife, okay?"

Mrs. Chen smiled tenderly, but her hands were merciless as she pried his chubby hands away from his pockets one by one.

"My son really is capable."

Looking at the two silver nuggets in her hand, Mrs. Chen beamed with joy and planted a forceful kiss on Zhu Ping'an's chubby face.