After quite a while, Lao Wang’s voice trembled as he said, "Six—sixty-eight copper coins? Th—that could sell?" The moment the words left his mouth, he reacted—his eldest son had just said people were fighting to buy it! How could it not sell?
But sixty-eight copper coins a catty!
He didn't even dare to imagine it—not even in his wildest dreams. Earlier, when Steward Zhou sold it to them at thirty copper coins a catty, Lao Wang knew that was probably the lowest price; taking it outside should fetch more. But Lao Wang figured it would be forty copper coins at most—tasty as it was, any pricier and it probably wouldn't be worth buying. In the end, their lord sold it at sixty-eight copper coins a catty, and it still wasn't enough to meet demand.
Wang Da knew what they were thinking, so he said, "Shangyang is different from here. Over there, it’s truly prosperous—the common folk on the streets all wear brocade, dressed beautifully and richly — more like lords than the lords in our town. I didn't even dare to look. And I heard that just a plate of greens can sell for three hundred wen at an inn."
Someone could barely breathe, feeling it was as absurd as a fairy tale, utterly unbelievable: "Really? Are you serious?"
"Auntie, why would I lie to you?" Wang Da said. "Lord Fang also brought toilet paper this time—toilet paper is for using in the outhouse." He gestured: "This tall—Lord Fang sold a stack for ninety copper coins."
If this were sold in Hezhou, could it sell?
How things would be in the future was unclear, but at this moment it definitely wouldn't sell. Ninety copper coins was no small sum—selling heavenly vegetables only earned a dozen or so copper coins. There were plenty of wooden sticks on the mountain; even if there were none, there were always leaves and corn cobs, right? And if all else failed, there were still fingers! Who would really be willing to spend money on such a thing?
Outsiders really were willing to spend.
Seeing the fabric in the hands of the Wang family’s eldest daughter-in-law, several women couldn’t look away.
"This was also brought back from outside?"
"Mm!"
"Oh my, it’s really beautiful—I’ve never seen anything like it. The color is so bright. How much does it cost?"
"Five hundred copper coins."
"……"
How come this Wang family boy, after one trip out, kept saying shocking things now that he was back!
Everyone sat at Lao Wang’s house all afternoon. When the villagers learned he was back, they also came to ask for news. Hearing Wang Da talk about the outside world, they couldn’t help but feel longing.
They also envied Wang Da. Why?
Because the Wang family had hosted the prefect, and during the river dredging, the Wang family had actively cooperated. Wang Da being able to be a minor manager at the factory was naturally the prefect's fulang's arrangement.
Wang Da’s trip out counted as seeing the world and broadening his horizons. His wages probably weren’t small either—otherwise how could he bring back so many things? Food, clothing, and supplies—some they’d never seen before.
As long as the sweet potato noodles could sell, everyone was happy. After listening for ages, they only got up to leave in the evening.
That night, lying in bed, thinking of what Zhao Ger had said back then, they tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
About twenty catties of sweet potatoes could make one catty of sweet potato noodles. They sold two catties of sweet potatoes for one copper coins, so twenty catties of sweet potatoes sold for ten copper coins, while the lord sold it for over sixty copper coins.
The villagers couldn’t read, but they weren’t stupid. The poorer they were, the more carefully they calculated. Sixty-eight copper coins, minus ten copper coins, meant a profit of fifty-eight copper coins.
If it were anyone else, they’d surely curse them as black-hearted at this point. But the other party was the prefect—they couldn’t bring themselves to curse, yet it still left a bad taste in their mouths.
Seeing his wife tossing and turning, the husband asked, and the wife told him.
The husband said, "You’re just jealous, thinking the lord isn’t quite decent."
"It’s not that."
"How is it not? If the lord hadn't brought us water, I ask you—would you still be cursing him right now?"
The wife thought about it and honestly nodded. "You've got long hair but short knowledge. Being able to earn so much is the lord's ability. And building that factory—doesn't it cost silver? Don't the workers at the factory get wages? Shipping it outside—didn't you hear Wang Da this afternoon? Without the lord, entering the city costs silver, you have to grease palms, food and drink on the road—which of those doesn't cost silver?"
[頭髮長，見識短 (tóufà cháng, jiànshì duǎn): lit. "long hair, short knowledge"; fig. a sexist saying implying that women (with long hair) lack wisdom or foresight.]
"Even you’re jealous—outsiders are probably worse. You only see people earning silver, but you don’t see the ins and outs and the hard work? The lord has been kind to us. Otherwise, growing grain, could you earn this much?"
The husband said, "You’re usually loose-tongued, and I don’t scold you for it, but you should know what can and can’t be said! If someone else hears, our son is still working at the factory."
Back when the paper mill was first being built, a woman had gossiped about Zhao Ger, and Zhao Ger fired both her sons. Everyone understood this.
But no one thought it was wrong. Zhao Ger gave her two children work, yet she was ungrateful and gossiped behind his back. That she wasn't beaten with planks was only because Zhao Ger was kind-hearted.
His analysis—though they didn’t know exactly how much was spent on the road, with inns and food, it was probably quite a bit—the woman immediately didn’t dare be jealous anymore.
"I know."
That’s how people are—they get jealous, they envy. But there were those who saw clearly.
Just as they were about to let it go—the next day, the sweet potato factory posted a notice: sweet potatoes, three catties for two copper coins.
Why raise the price?
Naturally because the sweet potato noodles were selling well. The prefect couldn’t possibly eat meat himself and let them only wash dishes! He’d at least let them have some soup.
Oh heavens!
Lord Fang is truly good!
Earlier they'd compared the prefect to a shady merchant—really, that was wrong of them.
Several villages were jubilant. Coincidentally, the last batch of sweet potatoes had been dug, and after carrying them to the sweet potato noodle factory, they came out with bulging pockets—silver! Another good year. Everyone was happy. Some even brought eggs and carried sweet potatoes to thank Fang Zichen.
Before they could even hand them over, Fang Zichen reached out and took them first: "Oh my, you came, and you even brought eggs—so polite!"
The person also laughed happily.
The eggs at home filled a whole basket. Fang Zichen looked and looked—originally very happy, but after a moment his face fell.
Zhao Ger was nearby picking vegetables and glanced over. "What's wrong?"
Fang Zichen propped his chin on both hands and said, "I miss my sons. Why haven’t those boys come back yet?"
With the kids not around, the house felt cold and empty—he couldn’t get used to it no matter what.
Zhao Ger’s mouth moved, as if he wanted to say something, but then closed it again.
Fang Zichen: "What, if you have something to say, just say it! What shameless thing haven’t we done? Are you shy with me?"
Zhao Ger: "……No."
"Liar. We’ve slept together for years. The moment you stick out your butt, I know what fart you’re going to make. One sniff, and I know immediately what you ate yesterday. Still trying to fool me."
Zhao Ger laughed: "What you said is so disgusting."
Fang Zichen said smugly: "Disgusting, and yet you still like me to death."
Zhao Ger punched him lightly: "Narcissist."
Fang Zichen struck a delicate pose with his pinky out and mimicked him in a cloying voice: "Narcissist~"
Zhao Ger chuckled.
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