The courtyard of Meng Shulang’s house was already in sight, and the peddler Zhang quickened his pace, his smile growing even brighter: “If there’s anything you want, young master, just let me know. I can come by every two or three days.”
“Can you get vegetable seeds?” This question hit Zhuang Yubai right in the heart. He glanced at the small patch of empty land not far away, planning in his mind how to arrange it. “Like celery, turnips, cabbage… the seeds of those. If there are seedlings, that would be even better.”
“I can! I have seeds, and as for seedlings, I’ll look for them,” peddler Zhang readily agreed. “Look! That courtyard ahead is Meng Shulang’s house.”
Zhuang Yubai followed peddler Zhang’s gaze.
This… isn’t this my house?
Meng Shulang… Meng Zhizhang… Alright, after all this, the great scholar is actually in my house! This is like winning the lottery.
Zhuang Yubai left the bamboo basket in the vegetable garden and said to peddler Zhang, “Please wait a moment, I’ll go inside to get some money.”
Peddler Zhang stood by the half-tended vegetable garden, watching as the young master ran into Meng Shulang’s house and then came running back, full of excitement. He was so surprised and incredulous that he forgot to put down the goods on his shoulder. After a while, he finally came to his senses and said, “Young master, are you also familiar with Meng Shulang?”
…
“Can’t say we’re familiar.” Although it seemed like he was pretending to be a pig to eat a tiger, Zhuang Yubai straightened his back a little with a hint of pride and silently counted out 32 coins to hand to the peddler. “I’m his cousin.”
“…Cousin?!” Peddler Zhang looked Zhuang Yubai up and down.
He had seen Meng Shulang before, tall and mighty, like a Luohan. But this “cousin” in front of him seemed a bit weak, pale, and looked like he was born with deficiencies… But then again, even among dragons, each child is different. It’s not strange for Meng Shulang’s cousin to look like he can’t carry or lift anything.
After convincing himself that this was indeed Meng Shulang’s cousin, peddler Zhang became even more enthusiastic than when he was greeting customers earlier: “So you’re Meng Shulang’s cousin. Wait a moment, 35 coins will do.”
Peddler Zhang forced 2 coins back into Zhuang Yubai’s hand.
This was unexpected for Zhuang Yubai. He knew that every coin a peddler earned was hard-earned, carrying goods and shouting step by step. The goods on his shoulder were not just merchandise but the livelihood of his entire family.
“It’s not easy for you to go from street to street. I can’t let you lose money and effort,” Zhuang Yubai firmly refused to accept it.
The 2 coins were passed back and forth between their four hands. Seeing that the peddler was insistent, Zhuang Yubai suddenly thought of something and ran back home.
“Do you sell gluten balls?” Zhuang Yubai brought out two packages of gluten balls. It’s better to teach a man to fish than to give him a fish.
“What are gluten balls? Are they toys for children?” The peddler had never heard of them, let alone seen them, but he was curious about the lotus leaf package in Zhuang Yubai’s hand.
Zhuang Yubai opened the lotus leaf and explained in detail what it was and how to eat it, emphasizing that it was very delicious.
“Try selling these two packages of gluten balls first. Each package sells for 8 coins, and you earn 1 coin.”
Peddler Zhang was a cautious man making a living at the bottom, with no safety net. Several people in his family depended on him, and if he lost money, the household would immediately feel the pinch. Although his goods were varied, he was familiar with each item and knew how to sell them. But these gluten balls were unfamiliar to him, and he didn’t know where to start.
Seeing the peddler’s hesitation, Zhuang Yubai said, “This item isn’t available in the nearby ten miles. Try it out, and if you can’t sell them, keep these two packages for yourself.”
With the conversation at this point, peddler Zhang accepted the gluten balls, especially with Meng Shulang’s endorsement. He took out his patched but clean money pouch and began counting money.
“Try selling them. It’s not too late to pay me after you sell them,” Zhuang Yubai stopped him and added, “Don’t forget my vegetable seeds!”
The peddler, who traveled from street to street, had access to a wider range of customers. Even if he couldn’t open up the market initially, he could at least spread the word. He seemed honest and straightforward, and with a growing family, his desire to earn money was stronger.
Zhuang Yubai nodded in satisfaction at the direction the peddler left, pleased with this distribution channel that had come to him.
*
Meng Zhizhang had said before leaving that he would be back in three to five days, and he should be home by tomorrow.
Lying on Meng Zhizhang’s pillow, Zhuang Yubai silently calculated his finances. The 50 coins of pocket money Meng Zhizhang left him were almost gone, and he would have to use the 100 coins of shrimp chip startup funds for the vegetable seeds and seedlings. This was a necessary expense for daily living.
The rice, flour, grain, and oil used for making shrimp chips were from the household stock, and these raw materials would need to be accounted for when calculating the output ratio later. However, if he really calculated it, most of the 100 coins of startup capital would have been used up.
These initial investments were necessary sunk costs. Although he hadn’t made any money yet, Zhuang Yubai was confident in his product. With the product and the distribution channel in place, it was just a matter of counting money with his eyes closed.
What was that saying? Right, with hope in your heart, you have strength under your feet. Giving himself a pep talk before sleep, even his dreams would be motivated.
Moonlight filtered through the wooden window lattice, casting a thin veil over Zhuang Yubai’s straight nose. He thought of peddler Zhang taking a detour to Meng Zhizhang’s place to soak up some scholarly aura and couldn’t help but grin.
To be honest, sometimes he really had some dumb luck. Who would have thought he’d stumble upon a potential stock? As long as the other party didn’t force him out with a knife, he was determined to hold onto this golden opportunity!
*
Huainan Village was left far behind.
This was the second time this month that Meng Zhizhang had walked this road.
The last time, he had openly brought his clansmen and betrothal gifts, a grand procession to discuss the wedding date with his fiancé, Zhuang Yubai.
This time, he came alone, quietly and left quietly, like the water of the Jiao River, coming and going without a trace.
He had learned about the Huainan river sacrifice.
The person who was to be sacrificed was now in his home.
Fortunately.
The sun was high in the sky, and the shadows of the trees were heavy, casting clusters over Meng Zhizhang’s back, adding more weight to the broad shoulders of the young man.
Growing up in the countryside, Meng Zhizhang could have lived a simple and ordinary life like his ancestors, facing the earth and back to the sky.
But he had read the books of sages. He knew there were other choices in life. Studying to become an official, supporting the state. The dreams of youth were bright and boundless.
Later, he read more books, and his choices became more determined. But he knew that the light of dreams couldn’t rely solely on passion.
Later still, he met more people beyond books. The world was more complex than he had imagined. Of course, he understood that there were even more complex people and things that he couldn’t comprehend or solve with his current perspective and strength.
For example, the current situation in Huainan. In broad daylight, who would have thought that in this day and age, a clan could sacrifice a living person to the river based on the words of an unknown shaman?
The river god taking a wife to ensure a bountiful harvest? This trick had been debunked since the Warring States period, yet in the Great Heng Dynasty where Meng Zhizhang lived, it was still revered. Absurd, ridiculous.
Moreover, the whole affair was suspicious, with the clan leader’s second son involved throughout. Meng Zhizhang had heard of this person’s reputation before, and he didn’t seem like someone who would go to great lengths for the clan’s benefit.
What troubled Meng Zhizhang the most was that none of the two or three hundred people in the clan saw anything wrong with it. He suddenly understood Mr. Nan from Sansheng Academy’s lament: enlightening the people’s minds and hearts was harder than moving mountains and filling seas.
But at this moment, he was barely maintaining his own path of study, let alone talking about enlightening the people.
At this moment, he was insignificant and powerless, unable to influence the tides of this era. What he could do now was to study diligently and act cautiously, humbly nurturing himself.
However, blood debts must be repaid, and murder must be avenged. This debt, Meng Zhizhang had noted down.
Pine and cypress roots delve deep into the ground, and the tree crown stretches upward. The deeper the roots, the taller and more stable the tree. Besides supporting dreams and enjoying the vast sky, it can also shelter those he wants to protect and more people around him.
New pines wish to grow a thousand feet tall. This road is long. This road is lonely.
Meng Zhizhang wanted to become such a tree.
He firmly believed he could grow into such a tree.
The wooden gate was tightly closed.
Meng Zhizhang dusted off the journey’s dust and, as usual, raised his hand to push the door open.
At some point, home had become just a place to stay for Meng Zhizhang. Just a place to stay.
Nothing more.
After his mother passed, the only companion in this home was his own shadow. Every time he returned, everything behind the door was cold, without warmth.
Quiet, silent, solemn.
There was no one he missed inside, and no one waiting for his return.
After repeated disappointments and loneliness, the person outside the door no longer held expectations and had grown accustomed to not expecting.
“Squeak—” As usual, the wooden gate opened with a push.
Living alone, the house was the same when he left as when he returned. Meng Zhizhang was used to it. But when he opened the door, the scene before him made him momentarily dazed.
His hand, with distinct joints, paused on the wooden gate, forgetting to retract for a long time.
The courtyard, which should have been empty, was now filled with various racks, occupying every sunlit spot in the house, of varying heights, drying white powdery substances.
His brow furrowed slightly as he closed the gate behind him and carefully navigated through the wooden racks and round sieves, heading towards the source of the sound in the kitchen.
White steam billowed from the stove, revealing a thin figure busy with fervor.
Meng Zhizhang’s heart trembled, as if struck by something.
He strode towards that figure.
The fire under the stove was soft, and the dry wood crackled gently; the aroma of rice on the stove seemed to brush away the fatigue of the returning person.
The white steam dissipated, sunlight broke through the clouds, and a smiling face emerged from the mist, eyes bright: “You’re back? Rest for a bit, we’ll eat soon!”
A greeting, as if it had traveled through time and space, waiting for a long time.
Meng Zhizhang was stunned, his hand clutching the document bag instinctively tightened, and after a while, he responded with a hoarse voice: “Okay.”
For a moment, he even had a thought: perhaps, in the future, he wouldn’t have to be alone.
Author’s Note:
*About the Document Bag
The document bag, also known as Zhaowen Bag, Zhaodai, or Yindai, was a standard accessory for Song Dynasty scholars and literati.
During the Song and Ming periods, the document bag was mostly rectangular, varying in size, with a cover and shoulder strap, secured with a clasp, and could be slung over the shoulder. Similar to our modern crossbody bags.
Ming Dynasty Chen Jiru’s “Meigong Ji” mentions: “Accompanied by three or four servants, carrying a document bag, containing brushes, inkstones, rhyme books, knives, paper, and small musical instruments. The document bag, made of bird skin, square, with a cover and clasp, was widely used by scholars during the Five Dynasties.”
It also appears frequently in novels like “Journey to the West” and “Water Margin.”
“Journey to the West” Chapter 93: “Sanzang wore his cassock, and the Monkey King carried the document bag with him.”
“Journey to the West” Chapter 96: “He hung the document bag with the travel permit on his chest.”
“Water Margin” Chapter 20: “Song Jiang wrapped the letter with a piece of gold and inserted it into the document bag.”
It’s also common in ancient paintings, such as the Southern Song Dynasty’s “Immortals Crossing the Sea” by Fang Chunnian, currently housed in the Freer Gallery of Art in the United States.
Interested readers can search for images online.