The villagers remembered going to town before to work for the big officials—heavy labor, sweat dripping, the stench of hard work clinging to them, clothes filthy. At night, when they went to collect their wages, if they happened to cross paths with the young masters and ladies in the corridors, those nobles would pinch their noses and shout about how foul the workers smelled before running off.
As if doing manual labor made them filthy creatures.
But now Guaizai worked right alongside them, doing the same tasks. The villagers couldn't quite put words to the feeling, but somehow their reluctance began to fade.
"Guaizai," Zhao Ger called.
"What's up, Daddy?"
"Come here."
Guaizai shouldered his hoe and walked over. Zhao Ger brushed the dirt off his clothes.
Zhao Ger spoke seriously: "Go into town and buy two woks. Big ones."
Guaizai blinked. "You mean big like the one Village Head Grandpa used for boiling water when they slaughtered the pig?"
He was referring to the time during the New Year when they'd visited the village head's home for the pig slaughter.
Zhao Ger nodded and handed him the pouch from his waist.
He could have sent a guard to do this, but Guaizai was getting older—he needed practice.
Guaizai gave a small nod. Zhao Ger assigned one imperial guard to accompany him. Previously, whenever Guaizai went to the countryside, he'd either ride with Fang Zichen or with Zhao Ger. Now he led over his horse, unfastened the soft whip tied around his waist, and swung up in one smooth motion. The men all turned to stare in amazement.
The horses were a gift from Steward Qin—both tall and powerful. When they were tied by the roadside eating grass, the men dared not approach; even a snort or a neigh from the horses made them flinch.
Now watching Guaizai sit astride his horse, proud and spirited, they thought: children of the wealthy—they can write, they can ride, and they can even do village work. Truly, they are different.
Guaizai noticed Lao Wang's third son watching him with envy. He paused for a moment.
"Uncle Wang San, want to come along?"
Wang San was stunned.
By the time he was seated on the horse, he still hadn't quite come to his senses. Amid everyone's envious gazes, the guard told him gruffly to hold on tight, then gave the horse a gentle kick with both heels, and they took off.
Wind howled past their ears. Yellow fields and high mountains blurred backwards. Wang San felt thrilled, amazed, excited, and a little scared all at once.
The guard frowned. "Hey, kid, don't hold on so tight! You're squeezing the life out of my waist—I'm not your wife!"
Wang San chuckled sheepishly. "Brother, I'm just a little scared."
Watching Guaizai ride ahead, his small figure kicking up dust with every hoofbeat, Wang San thought: for a kid so small, he is incredibly capable.
Without a rider in front, he wouldn't dare mount a horse at all.
And it wasn't just him—even the guard was envious.
Those were horses bred by the Qin family—tall, strong, fast as the wind. The horses they'd brought on this trip had all been carefully selected, but they'd heard the Qin-bred ones were something else. And over the past few days on the road, they'd seen it firsthand. Their own horses simply couldn't keep up. From the yamen to Anping County, those Qin horses could still whinny loud enough to shake the sky, while theirs were already flagging—if they had to run another li, they'd probably have to carry the horses back themselves.
Lao Wang had no idea why they needed big iron woks. Zhao Ger gave him another order: "Go back to the village and find four or five women or fulangs with good cooking skills."
Lao Wang made a trip back and returned with his two daughters-in-law and a couple of fulang and wives from two relatives' families.
Why not ask anyone else in the village? Because they wouldn't come!
If it were Lao Wang's own family business, everyone would pitch in. But working for the officials? No, thank you.
The eldest daughter-in-law wasn't afraid of Zhao Ger. She came right up and asked, "So what do you want us to do?"
Zhao Ger told them to first build two stoves out of stone.
Now Lao Wang understood.
A cart pulled by an ox rolled in from the village entrance, with Zhang Quan walking alongside.
When they arrived, Zhao Ger had them unload the goods.
Cornmeal, lard, and vegetables.
"Have the other villages received their supplies?" Zhao Ger asked.
Zhang Quan nodded. "All delivered."
By now, Lao Wang had fully grasped the plan.
The men saw it too. If they hadn't seen the grain with their own eyes, they wouldn't have believed it. But now the goods had arrived and the stoves were being built, and everyone began to believe.
So the officials were also covering their midday meals!
How could this be so good?
This work wasn't for nothing—forget wages, even just a bite to eat was enough to make them willing. Why? Because every bite they saved at home meant one more bite for their wives and children.
Guaizai was back before long. The woks were bulky and hard to tie onto the horse, so the guard and Wang San carried one between them. As for the other, Guaizai, imitating the Indian vendors, balanced it on his head and rode back that way. The wok was so large it completely covered him—from a distance, all anyone saw was a wok riding a horse.
Zhang Quan hurried over to take it. Guaizai jumped down, his eyes bright and eager as he looked at Zhao Ger.
The first time he'd run an errand, his wok had shattered into eight pieces, and he'd still been praised. This time, both woks were intact. Zhao Ger ruffled his hair.
"My son is amazing."
Guaizai smiled bashfully. "Guaizai can work. Guaizai can do things. Guaizai is a real man now."
Zhao Ger laughed. "Yes, yes you are. How much did they cost?"
A large iron wok wasn't cheap—the thicker ones cost over a hundred wen, and even the cheaper ones ran eighty or ninety wen.
These two woks were thick ones. By Hezhou prices, they should be around ninety wen each.
"Eighty-six," the little one said. Every day, following Fang Zichen's example, he'd been practicing the three daily reflections: spend sparingly, use sparingly, buy sparingly. Guaizai had truly absorbed Fang Zichen's teachings. Now he stuck out his little short leg and declared, "Guaizai wants two, so make the boss give us a discount. Daddy, don't underestimate Guaizai—Guaizai is a big man now! Anyone who tries to cheat Guaizai will get a flying kick to the face. Guaizai is fierce!"
Zhao Ger praised him a couple more times, and Guaizai, delighted, grabbed his little hoe and ran off excitedly to dig in the dirt.
The woks had to be taken to the village to be washed. A woman who was drawing water saw Lao Wang's two daughters-in-law washing the woks and was puzzled.
When she asked, everyone was shocked.
"Fang Fulang said he's providing meals?"
"That's right."
"This..."
Probably just one big pot of coarse rice gruel, they figured.
An honest and upright official—no such thing.
No one took it seriously.
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