Li Zhuang was a decent man. Around noon, he took a pancake from the kitchen, stuffed it into Shao Shuyi’s hand, and said, “Eat this first.”
His voice was as hoarse as ever, rough as wood shavings. Shao Shuyi found a stack of timber, sat down, and ate the pancake.
His mood had settled considerably. At least within the Zheng family shipyard, there were no constables or soldiers. He was safe for the time being—though only for the time being. People came and went within the shipyard, occasionally casting glances his way. Those who had seen him a few times even teased him, saying they would introduce him to someone as a live-in son-in-law.
Shao Shuyi smiled bitterly, though a faint hope ignited within him. He just didn't know if anyone would actually want him—compared to being sold as a slave, being a lowly live-in son-in-law seemed slightly better.
“It is actually a decent place to go,” Li Zhuang said in a low voice, sitting down as well.
Shao Shuyi turned his head to look at him, listening quietly.
“Naturally, I don’t mean for you to go to a destitute family; they must have some family assets,” Li Zhuang continued. “At the very least, you’ll be able to fill your belly. Be honest, carry on their family line, and bear the burden of miscellaneous corvée duties; in ten years, you can return to the clan.”
“What does ‘return to the clan’ mean?” Shao Shuyi asked.
Li Zhuang looked at him somewhat strangely and said, “Naturally, it means divorcing and returning home.”
Shao Shuyi found this concept novel and asked again, “You actually have to return to the clan? Once you become husband and wife, can you not spend a lifetime together?”“That is called an old-age provider son-in-law; it is different,” Li Zhuang said. “Actually, you are right. To return to the clan is to be at a great disadvantage, because you cannot take anything with you.”
Depart empty-handed! Four large characters lit up in Shao Shuyi’s mind.
It seemed this live-in son-in-law arrangement was something of a trap. Even long-term hired laborers received wages, but here, after ten years of working oneself to death, there would not only be no pay; upon leaving, one could neither share in the family property nor receive any compensation. Yet he didn’t have much of a choice now, did he? If someone was willing to take him in as a son-in-law, he ought to be secretly delighted.
Li Zhuang’s cloudy eyes swept over Shao Shuyi. Seeing no reaction, he dropped the subject and asked instead, “Where have you been these past few days?”
“Looking for some work in the city,” Shao Shuyi replied.
“Hard to find, isn’t it?” Li Zhuang asked.
Without waiting for Shao Shuyi’s answer, he added, “Last year, it seems there was fighting somewhere. The Imperial Court pressed for tax collection very urgently, and the market has become much more depressed. Business is hard to do, and consequently, fewer people are being hired.”
“Fighting?” Shao Shuyi was startled.
Had the late-Yuan peasant uprisings erupted? That shouldn’t be right. However, he quickly understood. Just as a major earthquake might be preceded by a series of geological disturbances, before the large-scale outbreak of uprisings, there would certainly be local peasant revolts confined to specific corners. They would be numerous but small in scale, generally rising and falling here and there.
At this stage, the Yuan Court still had the capacity to grit its teeth and suppress them. But as the situation deteriorated day by day, it would eventually become unmanageable, burying the entire Yuan dynasty. Having thought this through, he relaxed slightly, though he also felt an indescribable disappointment—perhaps related to what had just happened to him. He was truly conflicted right now.
Li Zhuang did not possess Shao Shuyi’s advantage of looking down at the earth from the clouds of history; he could only make judgments based on the unverified news he heard and half a lifetime of life experience. Thus, at this moment, he only said, “No need to worry too much; it should be quelled very quickly. But the harvest year is poor. If you want to seek a position in a large household or a shop, it will not be easy.”
Shao Shuyi gave a grunt of acknowledgement.
He really wasn't in the mood to think about these things right now. He only wished to find a foothold as soon as possible, just so he could have food to eat. Everything else could be taken slowly; survival was the primary need.
Li Zhuang intended to say something more, but seeing three people approaching from a distance, he immediately signaled with his eyes.
Shao Shuyi looked up and saw Zheng Song walking side-by-side with an old man sporting a conspicuous goatee, speaking in low tones. Behind them was a burly middle-aged man with a scar between his brows, looking quite intimidating.
Li Zhuang tugged at Shao Shuyi, pulling him forward to bow in greeting.
The three stopped. Zheng Song did not look at Shao Shuyi; he simply scrutinized the several river boats currently under construction. Only after a long while did he withdraw his gaze.
“Master Craftsman Li, can they be finished before the seventh month?” Zheng Song’s gaze lingered on Shao Shuyi for only a moment before fixing quickly on Li Zhuang.
“I fear it will be somewhat difficult,” Li Zhuang muttered to himself for a moment before replying honestly. “Perhaps it will take until the middle of the eighth month.”
Zheng Song’s brows furrowed.
He did not like things that were out of control, as this would create variables and disrupt the entire plan. But he also knew very well that shipbuilding was no simple task. To be delayed by only a month or so was already quite difficult to achieve—after all, funds and materials were both insufficient. Furthermore, the ships produced were to be subject to “harmonious purchase” by the Imperial Court and used on the Grand Canal. It was unprofitable and practically guaranteed to lose money, so dragging it out a bit didn't matter.
“As soon as possible,” he nodded.
“Yes,” Li Zhuang bowed again, speaking respectfully.
Zheng Song finally focused his gaze on Shao Shuyi and said, “I have seen you. Once at the Sea Transport Granary, a second time at the Charitable Granary, and today makes the third, correct?”
“Yes,” Shao Shuyi also bowed and replied.
“Looking at your state, you must have been fleeing for your life all night?” Zheng Song stepped a few paces closer and, after examining him carefully, asked expressionlessly.
“Yes,” Shao Shuyi had nothing to hide and answered directly.
“Chased by the Crossroads Force?” Zheng Song asked.
Shao Shuyi froze for a moment, not quite understanding.
“The ‘Crossroads Central Myriad-Household Commandery guarding Pingjiang,’” the scarred man who had come with Zheng Song spoke up. “The Dadu Garrison is one of the ten Thousand-Household Garrisons under the jurisdiction of the Crossroads Force. You don’t even know this?”
Shao Shuyi suddenly realized that this was the superior agency of the Dadu Garrison he had speculated about.
It sounded like the Yuan army in the Pingjiang Route was this so-called “Crossroads Force”, with ten Thousand-Household Garrisons under its banner, and the Dadu Garrison stationed in Taicang was one of them. And if his guess was correct, the first batch of soldiers for this garrison likely came from Dadu (the Capital), though who knew which generation they were on now; anyway, Yuan dynasty military households were hereditary.
“Enough, Sixth Brother, say a few words less.” Zheng Song stopped the scarred man, looked at Shao Shuyi, and asked, “Have you reached a dead end?”
“Yes.” Shao Shuyi’s face reddened slightly.
Zheng Song stared at him for a long time, then suddenly asked, “In the sixth month of the twenty-third year of the Zhiyuan reign (1286), Prime Minister Antong and others memorialized to settle the requisition of horses in the prefectures of the Han lands. For those with horses, two out of three were taken, yielding one hundred two thousand horses. At that time, what was the total number of horses in the prefectures of the Han lands?”
As he asked, his eyes were fixed tightly on Shao Shuyi, seemingly observing his subtle movements.
“One hundred fifty-three thousand,” Shao Shuyi almost didn't react in time, answering instinctively.
Zheng Song looked back at the goatee-sporting elder who had come with him.
The elder murmured for a moment, then nodded. “Indeed, it is one hundred fifty-three thousand. However, at that time, for Muslims, Uighurs, and wealthy civilians residing in garrisons, it was two taken from three, while for Han people, all horses were requisitioned. If we truly discuss it—”
“Enough.” Zheng Song waved his hand and continued to ask, “After the ban on slaughter was lifted on the fifteenth of last month, the Transport Office went to the Sheep and Horse Market to buy sheep, spending eighty-five ingots of Zhongtong notes. The brokerage fee is three percent. How much brokerage fee should the Transport Office pay?”
Shao Shuyi thought for a moment and replied, “One hundred twenty-seven strings and five hundred copper coins.”
Zheng Song looked at the elder again.
Perhaps because the question was impromptu this time, and he did not know the answer beforehand, the elder hesitated, muttering under his breath, “One tael three fen, ten taels three mace, one hundred taels should be three taels. Eighty-five ingots of notes calculates to four thousand... four thousand two hundred fifty taels. The brokerage fee should be one hundred twenty... one hundred twenty-six... one hundred twenty-six taels five mace ... Mm, no, one hundred twenty-seven taels five mace.”
Listening to the elder's entire calculation process, Shao Shuyi secretly breathed a sigh of relief, though he didn't know why.
When he calculated it, he simply multiplied 42.5 by 3 in his head and arrived at the answer in an instant. It wasn’t that difficult, was it? Perhaps this old man could work faster with tools, but mental arithmetic was clearly a bit harder for him.
Zheng Song hadn’t worked out the number himself, but he knew how to observe. Seeing that the figures given by both men matched, he understood. In that moment, his gaze was no longer reserved; he regarded Shao Shuyi with keen scrutiny—and a faint hint of suspicion.
“Has the young lad studied books?” he asked softly.
“I have read for a few days,” Shao Shuyi replied without changing his expression.
“Your home is near the Sea Transport Granary, right? With whom did you study?” Zheng Song pressed.
“Master Yu,” Shao Shuyi answered.
Zheng Song looked at Li Zhuang.
Li Zhuang hesitated for a moment, then said, “There was indeed a Master Yu in the East Second Du; he passed away last year. I heard he had the style of the ancient benevolent men, teaching anyone willing to enroll. The children of the several du in Zhangjing have all received his benevolence. Even my unworthy son went to learn for a few days; unfortunately, he had no talent and couldn't learn anything.”
Zheng Song nodded slightly.
Shao Shuyi breathed a sigh of relief. Master Yu was real, and it was true that his original self had attended school for a few days, only to learn nothing, give up halfway, and go home to help herd sheep.
“Can you write?” Zheng Song asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you have family?”
“Parents are both dead. Years ago, I had an elder sister who married into Jiangyin Prefecture; there has been no news for many years. There was another younger sister who died of illness last year.”
“Clansmen?”
“The previous generation might have had some in Jiangyin, but I am not too clear.”
Zheng Song was expressionless and did not speak.
Just as Shao Shuyi was becoming somewhat apprehensive, he suddenly smiled and said, “Why should I help you escape? According to regulations, encountering an absconding household like yours requires seizing and delivering you to the government office.”
This sentence came out of nowhere, but Shao Shuyi understood.
There is no hatred without cause in this world, nor love without cause. You have hit a dead end; helping you is a favor, not helping you is their duty. To put it more bluntly, what about you makes you worth helping? What can you provide to the other party?
In that instant, something seemed to click within him. A wave of sorrow surged up in his chest, yet a look of steely resolve settled over his face as he said, “I still have a life I can sell to you, sir.”
Zheng Song clasped his hands behind his back, looked up at the sky, and said, “There are many people in this world willing to sell their lives; it is not worth money.”
“But there are not many who are proficient in letters and calculation and still willing to sell their lives,” Shao Shuyi said. “The Zheng family may have such people, but their lives are far more valuable than mine; wouldn’t it be a pity to squander them so lightly?”
Zheng Song withdrew his gaze and murmured assent.
“Thirteenth Brother, if this man is seized and thrown into a government prison with no one to look after him, I fear he won’t even manage to snatch a bowl of sour rice and will surely die,” the scarred man suddenly said. “Niece Ning has only just recovered from a serious illness, and the Third Young Master is inviting monks to chant for her. At such a critical moment, lend a hand if you can.”
Zheng Song’s expression moved slightly.
Shao Shuyi held his breath and concentrated as much as possible, waiting patiently.
After an unknown amount of time, Zheng Song said a sentence: “Three days from now, still at this place. Come early and accompany me to Liu Family Port.”
Having spoken, he turned and left. The old man lightly stroked his beard, glanced at Shao Shuyi with pity in his eyes, and also turned to leave.
The scarred man gave a light chuckle and whispered, “Don’t die, now.”
Zheng Song glanced back at him.
The scarred man grinned, sped up his pace, and slipped away.
Li Zhuang looked at Shao Shuyi with joyful eyes, perhaps also containing a mix of complex emotions.
Shao Shuyi felt his entire body go somewhat limp, as if his essence and spirit had been completely exhausted in that moment just now. He turned his head and forced a smile at Li Zhuang.