Chapter 18: Private Property

The stall was sold out. Father Zhu tidied up the stall and had Zhu Pingchuan lead Zhu Ping'an to wait there while he went to the grocery store to sell the rabbit skins.

Since Father Zhu was a regular at the grocery store and they wouldn't let him take a loss, Zhu Ping'an didn't insist on following him.

Father Zhu returned after a short while. There were five rabbit skins in total, priced at twelve wen each, totaling sixty wen.

Watching his father collect all the money into the basket, Zhu Ping'an's eyes lit up. He said joyfully, "So much money! When we go back and give it to Mother, she will surely be very happy."

"That won't do. We can only keep twenty-four wen of this; the rest must go to Grandmother," Father Zhu explained, patting Zhu Ping'an's head with an amused smile.

Oh, that's right.

The Zhu family rules stipulated that any income earned during the daytime—time that should have been spent on farm work—had to be turned over entirely to the communal fund. As for private income earned at night or during other non-farming hours, eighty percent had to be handed over.

In ancient times, if a family had not split into separate households, private property was not permitted, as the society followed a patriarchal system.

Going up the mountain happened during the daytime, so all proceeds from the mountain belonged to the communal account. As for the bamboo weaving, since Father did most of it at night, he had to hand over eighty percent of the income.

The money from selling the rabbit skins had to be handed over entirely to Grandmother for the communal account. In addition to the rabbit skins, the fifty wen earned from the mountain delicacies this time also had to be handed over in full.

Of course, eighty percent of the money from Father's bamboo weaving also had to be handed over. Father's bamboo had sold for one hundred and twenty wen this time, meaning he would have to hand over nearly 100 wen.

In other words, although everything this time was the result of Father's hard labor, he would have to hand over a total of nearly 200 wen. If it weren't for his own honeysuckle, Father would only have been left with about 20 wen.

As far as Zhu Ping'an knew, his eldest uncle's family never seemed to contribute a single cent to the household; instead, they were constantly taking money from the family accounts for the eldest uncle's books, ink, brushes, and outings with friends. The third uncle's family did contribute, but very rarely. As for the fourth uncle's family—forget it; both the fourth uncle and his wife always found ways to take advantage of the accounts.

Despite Father contributing so much, the grandparents were often biased toward the eldest uncle and the fourth uncle's family.

Whenever something happened in the family, Grandmother would often ask Father to pay for it. Father always complied readily, which had caused Mother Chen to get angry with him many times.

Filial piety was necessary, but one also had to look after one's own immediate family. His eldest brother would be getting married in a few years, and they needed to save money for his wedding. Since the grandparents were constantly biased toward the eldest uncle's imperial examinations, they likely wouldn't contribute much. Besides, if anything changed in the family, they had to be prepared.

Therefore, it was necessary to "re-educate" Father.

"Why do we have to give it to Grandmother?" Zhu Ping'an asked, tilting his head up.

"Because we eat from the family's stores," Father Zhu explained.

Zhu Ping'an pouted.

"Grandmother promised the honeysuckle to me, so I should keep that money. And the silver nuggets were given to me by others," Zhu Ping'an said, putting on the persona of a spoiled child.

Father Zhu thought about it. Well, it was true; when they returned from the mountain, the whole family had mocked the flowers Zhi'er had picked, and Mother had indeed said the honeysuckle belonged to Zhi'er.

"Fine, alright," Father Zhu nodded.

"Dad, when you used to sell bamboo weaving in town, how much could you sell at a time? And how much did you give Grandmother?" Seeing that Father Zhu had agreed, Zhu Ping'an felt his father was still salvageable, so he asked casually.

While tidying up their belongings, Father Zhu answered, "In the past, we could sell about sixty or seventy wen at a time, and we'd give about fifty wen to the family."

"Then this time, let's give Grandmother ten wen more for the bamboo weaving. Let's give her sixty wen," Zhu Ping'an said, acting like a filial, good child.

This way, besides the money from the honeysuckle, they could keep 60 wen this time.

"Huh?" Father Zhu was stunned for a moment, then laughed. "That's not how it works, Zhi'er. We sold more bamboo weaving this time too."

"That's right, little brother Zhi, you're still small and don't know how to do math," the eldest brother, Zhu Pingchuan, chimed in.

This method wouldn't work, so Zhu Ping'an had to change tactics.

"Eldest Aunt and Fourth Aunt both have silver hairpins. Mother has been envious for a long time, but she just hasn't saved enough money." Zhu Ping'an's eyes seemed to vividly portray the scene of Mother Chen envying the two aunts, making his performance quite infectious.

Father Zhu also thought of Chen, who was at home. She had sacrificed so much for this family; it was only right to save some money to make his wife happy. Besides, the money being handed over for the bamboo weaving this time was ten wen more than usual, wasn't it?

Ultimately, Father Zhu nodded in agreement. He carefully divided the money into two portions: one was set aside to be handed over to the family, and the other, which included the money from the honeysuckle, was carefully wrapped and placed in Zhu Ping'an's small basket, covered with leftover green grass from the ox.

Before heading home from town, Father Zhu picked up some bargains at the market, buying oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, tea, and other daily necessities.

Zhu Ping'an also bought two meat buns, wrapped them in paper, and carefully placed them at the bottom of the basket, covering them up.

Thinking it was just a child's craving, Father Zhu asked about it.

To his surprise, Zhu Ping'an replied, "The meat buns I ate this morning were delicious. I wanted to take some back for Mother to taste."

This made Father Zhu's face burn slightly. Even his youngest son remembered to bring something for Chen, yet he himself hadn't thought to proactively buy anything for her.

Fortunately, it wasn't too late to mend the fence. Since Father Zhu didn't have much money, he couldn't buy jewelry to please Chen, but he could certainly buy some fabric so she could make him a couple of new outfits. Thinking of how lovely Chen would look in new clothes, Father Zhu's mouth spread into a wide grin.

There was a fabric shop not far from the stall. Father Zhu led his two sons into the shop. The store was much larger than the apothecary, and upon entering, they were dazzled by the colorful fabrics.

"Are you here to buy cloth, sir? This way, please."

The shop assistant was quite shrewd; instead of guiding them toward the silk section, he led them directly to the moderately priced cotton section.

"This is all authentic Songhu cotton, sourced directly from Songjiang Prefecture. It is exquisite, durable, and beautiful. Whether for making clothes or bedding, it is in high demand, and the prices are very reasonable." The shop assistant was quite a smooth talker and very good at reading people, as if he could see right through Father Zhu's thoughts, and he made sure to emphasize the affordability at the end.

It was true that Songjiang Prefecture's textiles were famous throughout the land. He hadn't expected Songjiang cotton to have spread all the way to Kaoshan Town at the foot of the mountain.

"How much is this cloth?" Father Zhu asked, pointing to a piece of peach-white cotton.

"120 wen per bolt," the assistant replied. "One bolt can make eight tops, or if you're making skirts and trousers, it can make twelve. It's a very good deal."

In the Ming Dynasty, one bolt was equal to four *zhang*. One *zhang* was ten *chi*. If one *chi* were converted to modern units, it would be approximately 0.31 meters, meaning one bolt of cloth was about twelve meters long.

(End of Chapter)