“You’ve thought this through quite carefully for such a little fellow. Be careful you don’t overthink yourself and stunt your growth,” Wang Dongyang joked lightly. “Manager Qiu, bring the contract back. I’ll add that clause.”
He wasn’t annoyed in the slightest. Picking up his brush, he added the provision about delays due to severe weather.
Liu Sanzhuang, however, was nervous, afraid his son might anger the young master and ruin the deal. Only when he saw that Wang Dongyang’s expression remained calm did he finally breathe easier. He might be simple and honest, but he knew how to read people’s expressions.
After reviewing the contract to ensure everything was in order, Wang Dongyang handed it back to Manager Qiu. Seeing that the father and son had no objections, Manager Qiu asked Liu Sanzhuang to press his thumbprint on it.
“Manager Qiu, have their vegetables weighed and settle today’s payment,” Wang Dongyang instructed.
“Yes, Young Master,” Manager Qiu replied at once.
“Thank you, Young Master. We’ll take our leave now,” Liu Sanzhuang said, bowing respectfully. Liu An followed his father’s example, bowing as well and waving cheerfully. “Goodbye, Young Master!”
Wang Dongyang smiled and nodded as they left the private room with Manager Qiu. The kitchen staff weighed their vegetables—eighty-five jin in total.
Manager Qiu said with a smile, “We used one bundle for tasting earlier. Let’s round it up and count it as ninety jin.”
“That won’t do!” Liu Sanzhuang waved his hands anxiously. “The tasting portion is only right. We can’t take money for that.” Liu An nodded solemnly beside him.
Seeing how sincere they were, Manager Qiu felt even more favorable toward them. No wonder the young master wished to help—they were honest and courteous. “Very well. We’ll calculate eighty-five jin at three copper coins per jin. That comes to two hundred fifty-five copper coins.”
He handed the coins over.
“Thank you, Manager Qiu!” Liu Sanzhuang accepted them excitedly.
“Thank you, Uncle Manager!” Liu An said brightly.
Smiling, Manager Qiu then took out two beginner’s primers along with a packet of pastries. “Our young master found An’er quite delightful. These are primers for him.”
Liu Sanzhuang quickly shook his head. “How can we accept such valuable things? Books are precious!” Though illiterate, he knew their worth.
Liu An’s eyes lit up—he longed for books more than anything—but he restrained himself. He knew they were far too expensive for a family like theirs.
Manager Qiu noticed the boy’s longing gaze and nodded inwardly. “Take them. If you refuse, the young master will blame me instead. An’er mustn’t disappoint his goodwill.”
Realizing further refusal would be improper, Liu Sanzhuang tucked the copper coins into his chest, wiped his hands on his clothes, and respectfully accepted the books and pastries with both hands. “Please thank the young master for us. We’ll make sure to deliver only the freshest greens.”
As a simple farmer, he had nothing else to offer in return. All he could do was promise diligence.
“Thank you, Young Master. Thank you, Uncle Manager.” Liu An bowed seriously. He silently vowed to repay this kindness someday.
Manager Qiu chuckled. “Since we’ll be working together, there’s no need to be so formal. Brother Liu, I’m a few years older—just call me Brother Qiu. And An’er can call me Uncle Qiu.”
“Yes, Brother Qiu. Uncle Qiu,” the father and son replied readily.
“Then we’ll head back now. We still need to buy grain and return early,” Liu Sanzhuang said in farewell.
“You needn’t rush tomorrow. As long as you deliver before midday, it’s fine,” Manager Qiu reminded him.
Liu Sanzhuang nodded earnestly and led Liu An out of the restaurant. At the entrance, Liu An cheerfully called out to A’Si, the server who had first helped them. “Thank you, Brother A’Si! We couldn’t have done this without you!”
A’Si waved his hands shyly. “It was nothing—you don’t have to thank me.”
Liu Sanzhuang discreetly slipped five copper coins into A’Si’s palm. “It’s just a token of our gratitude. Please don’t refuse.”
Before A’Si could protest, Liu Sanzhuang had already scooped up Liu An and hurried off.
Holding the five coins, A’Si looked helplessly at Manager Qiu.
Manager Qiu smiled. “Since they gave it to you, keep it. You did well today.”
“I’ll work even harder from now on!” A’Si said, delighted. Five coins equaled a full day’s wages for him. He marveled at how a small act of kindness had brought unexpected reward. Good deeds truly bring blessings, he thought happily, tucking the coins away.
Carefully wrapping the books the young master had given Liu An inside his outer garment, Liu Sanzhuang secured them. Since it was summer, he wasn’t worried about the missing layer. Then he hoisted his basket and carried Liu An toward the grain shop.
“Welcome, sir! We have the most complete selection of grains,” the shop assistant greeted them warmly.
“How much per jin for coarse rice? And coarse flour?” Liu Sanzhuang asked.
“Eight copper coins per jin for rice, five for coarse flour. How many jin would you like?” the assistant replied.
“So expensive? Last time it was six coins per jin,” Liu Sanzhuang said in surprise.
“It’s been a drought. Grain prices have been rising steadily. If you wait longer, it may go up again,” the assistant explained patiently.
After hesitating, Liu Sanzhuang gritted his teeth. “Fifty jin each.” With a large family at home, they couldn’t risk running out of food.
“Right away!” the assistant said cheerfully, weighing out the grain.
Liu An stared at the snow-white refined flour and polished rice nearby and couldn’t help swallowing. “Big brother, how much for the white rice and fine flour?”
Since he’d just made a sale, the assistant answered kindly, “Those are premium goods. Fine rice costs twenty copper coins per jin, and white flour fifteen.”
Liu An inhaled sharply. That was truly expensive—meat cost only a little over ten coins per jin. Smacking his lips softly, he silently resolved: I must earn much more money in the future.
The shop assistant didn’t get annoyed just because Liu An and his father asked about the price of polished rice and white flour without buying any. After all, those were expensive goods, and the store didn’t carry many of them to begin with. They weren’t foods meant for ordinary farming families.
While the clerk weighed the grain for Liu Sanzhuang, Liu An wandered around the shop. Suddenly, in a corner, he spotted a sack of soybeans. His heart leapt with excitement.
Soybeans! This was good stuff. He had been thinking about making tofu—wasn’t this exactly what he needed?
“Big brother, how much are these soybeans?” Liu An asked eagerly.
“These? Three copper coins a jin,” the clerk replied kindly. “But little one, they don’t taste as good as coarse grain. Eat too many and they’ll make you bloated.”
“An’er, the young man is right,” Liu Sanzhuang added quickly, assuming his son was simply hungry. “Soybeans aren’t tasty. I’ll buy you a meat bun later.”
“Father, let’s just buy twenty jin. I like them,” Liu An said sweetly, giving his father a meaningful look.
Liu Sanzhuang understood at once—his son had another idea brewing. Without arguing further, he agreed to purchase twenty jin. Though puzzled by their decision, the clerk happily weighed out the soybeans. A sale was a sale, after all.
“That comes to 710 copper coins total. I’ll round it down—just 700,” the clerk said briskly.
Overjoyed, Liu Sanzhuang handed over the 600 coins his mother had given him that morning, then added another 100 from the money they’d earned selling wild vegetables.
“Please count and see if it’s correct,” he said politely.
The clerk carefully counted the coins, then smiled. “Not a coin short—700 exactly. Come back to our shop next time you need grain, and I’ll be sure to give you a good price.”
“We will, big brother,” Liu An said with a grin. Liu Sanzhuang nodded in agreement.
Afterward, Liu Sanzhuang took out the books they had been gifted and carefully placed the grain into his basket. Then he gently laid the books on top and covered everything with a straw mat before hoisting the basket onto his back. Taking Liu An’s hand, the two left the shop.
“Father, let’s buy two jin of pork,” Liu An suggested. “Everyone at home hasn’t eaten meat in a long time.”
Liu Sanzhuang initially wanted to refuse, but then he thought about their new steady income—all thanks to his son. If the boy wanted meat, how could he deny him?
“Alright,” he smiled. “Let’s go buy some.”
At the butcher’s stall, Liu An pointed at a slab of pork belly. “Uncle, how much is this?”
“Good eye, young master,” the butcher said cheerfully. “Fresh pork belly—fifteen coins a jin.”
“Please don’t call him ‘young master,’ we’re just farmers,” Liu Sanzhuang said modestly. “Two jin of pork belly. And how much for that fatty pork?”
“Twenty coins a jin,” the butcher replied enthusiastically.
After calculating silently, Liu Sanzhuang realized that after buying grain, he only had 120 coins left. Still, they will earn more tomorrow.
“Three jin of fatty pork as well,” he decided.
The butcher swiftly chopped up the meat and wrapped it neatly. Liu Sanzhuang paid ninety coins.
But Liu An wasn’t finished yet. He pointed to the offal and two large soup bones. “Uncle, how much for those?”
The butcher laughed. “Those aren’t worth much. Since you bought so much today, I’ll sell two sets of offal for three coins total, and the soup bones are free.”
“Father, pay quickly!” Liu An urged, afraid the butcher might change his mind.
“But An’er, offal isn’t very good to eat—” Liu Sanzhuang began.
“Father, please? I want it,” Liu An said, pouting.
With a sigh, Liu Sanzhuang handed over another three coins. Fearing his son might ask for something else unusual, he quickly gathered the purchases and carried Liu An away.
The butcher, meanwhile, was delighted. Offal was smelly and troublesome to clean—it rarely sold. He hadn’t expected to get rid of two whole sets at once.
“Father, don’t be upset,” Liu An said soothingly as they walked. “When we get home, I’ll give you a surprise.”
Liu Sanzhuang relaxed a little. His son had always been sensible.
“Son, you must be hungry. I’ll buy you a meat bun.”
Liu An shook his head. “It’s okay, Father. I can wait until we get home.”
But before he could finish speaking, his stomach growled loudly. His face flushed red.
Suppressing a smile, Liu Sanzhuang said gently, “I’m hungry too. Let’s buy two buns.”
So they went to a bun stall. Liu Sanzhuang spent three coins on a meat bun and a bowl of egg drop soup for Liu An, and two coins on two plain steamed buns for himself.
They began eating heartily.
“Father, my bun tastes a bit salty. Try some,” Liu An said, noticing his father only had plain buns.
Liu Sanzhuang took a small bite. “Not salty at all.”
“Maybe the soup is salty then,” Liu An insisted, handing him the bowl.
Liu Sanzhuang drank a sip. “Not salty either.”
Then he saw the sly little expression on his son’s face and felt his heart swell.
“You little rascal,” he laughed warmly. “Eat properly. Your old man has food too.”
The elderly woman selling buns smiled. “Your child is so thoughtful. Such a good boy.”
“Our An’er has always been sensible,” Liu Sanzhuang said proudly. “Never fussy. Easy to raise.”
Blushing slightly under the praise, Liu An quickly finished his bun and drank every last drop of soup. Liu Sanzhuang asked the vendor for a bowl of water and ate his two buns with it.
After finishing, the father and son hurried off to meet Old Man Zhou at their agreed location.