Next, the two of them bought some rice, flour, grain, and cooking oil before heading back.
The sun had not yet set when, under the crooked willow tree at the entrance of Qinghe Village, Wang Shi from the Su family’s eldest branch sat cracking sunflower seeds. Her lips moved nonstop as she gossiped with a few other sharp-tongued women, spreading rumors about Su Qinghe being in debt and about to sell her husband.
“If you ask me, that fat woman will eventually have her hands and feet chopped off and thrown into a mass grave. Twenty-five taels of silver—she couldn’t even gather that much even if she sold herself by weight…”
Before she could finish, the dull rumble of cart wheels crushed her spit-filled rant.
Wang Shi looked up—and the shell stuck in her throat.
There, rolling toward them, was the old ox cart that was rarely ever used except for hauling goods. The cart was so heavily loaded that it left deep ruts in the dirt road. Driving it was none other than the usually sickly Xiao Hanyuan. Even though he wore a new outfit, his cold, unapproachable aura still made people unwilling to meet his gaze.
But that wasn’t the main point.
The real shock was what was in the cart.
Stacks of snow-white refined flour bags were piled three layers high, blinding under the afternoon sun. A large oil jar swayed with the cart’s movement, making dull thudding sounds. And a glimpse of pork revealed thick layers of fat that made people’s mouths water.
Wang Shi’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. That was rice, flour, oil, and meat? That was all money—white silver!
Wasn’t that wasteful Su Qinghe being chased by debt collectors just a couple of days ago? Where did she get the money for all this?
“Oh my! Isn’t this Qinghe from the second branch?” Wang Shi tossed away her seeds and stepped into the road, her triangular eyes darting over the cart. “Striking it rich, are you? Where did you get the money for all this? Don’t tell me you’re ignoring your debts just to live well for yourself?”
Her words immediately changed the expressions of the surrounding gossiping women. In the village, enjoying luxuries while owing debts was enough to be publicly shamed.
Xiao Hanyuan pulled the reins tight. The old ox snorted, nearly spraying Wang Shi with saliva.
Sitting in the back of the cart, Su Qinghe lifted her eyelids and glanced at her so-called “aunt-in-law.”
From her memories, when the original owner’s parents died, this Wang Shi had led the seizure of the second branch’s land, not even leaving a cooking pot behind.
“Aunt-in-law, that’s quite a novel statement,” Su Qinghe said calmly, playing with an empty money pouch. “When I spend my own money, do I need to report to you? Do you live by the sea? Why are you so wide-reaching?”
“Where did you get the money!” Wang Shi shrieked, spitting as she spoke. “Don’t tell me you did something shameful, or maybe you stole—”
“Move.”
Xiao Hanyuan spoke coldly.
He flicked his whip in the air, producing a sharp cracking sound.
The whip stopped just half an inch from Wang Shi’s nose.
Wang Shi jumped in fright and instinctively stepped back.
Taking the opportunity, the old ox moved forward, dragging the cart loaded with goods that made the entire village envious, rolling straight into the village.
Watching the cart disappear, Wang Shi stamped her feet in anger and grabbed Zhao Tiezhu, who was returning from the mountain with an empty basket.
“Tiezhu! Tell me! Did that fat woman steal or rob? Where did she get the money for refined flour?”
Zhao Tiezhu looked at her like she was an idiot and wiped sweat with a towel.
“Steal? She earned it with skill! Yesterday, Madam Su led the whole village picking chestnuts. This morning they were sold to Drunken Immortal Tower in town. She’s now their official supplier!”
“What?” Wang Shi froze. “Chestnuts? Those useless burr things on the mountain?”
“Exactly!” Zhao Tiezhu said enviously. “Two coppers per jin! Even my kid made seven coins yesterday. Madam Su really turned things around. I heard she even sold a recipe for a good amount of silver.”
Wang Shi’s mouth hung open, unable to close.
Those prickly chestnut shells… could be exchanged for money?
She often went up the mountain to chop firewood, stepping all over those things—those were actually coins?
Remembering how she had just mocked Su Qinghe for being on the verge of having her limbs chopped off, Wang Shi felt her face burn as if she had been slapped.
And what hurt even more was that all that money on the mountain—she hadn’t gotten a single coin.
No, that won’t do. If Su Qinghe, that dead girl, made money, she must “honor” her uncle and aunt!
She quickly called her husband and rushed toward Su Qinghe’s home.
The old ox snorted heavily as it dragged the fully loaded cart into Qinghe Village.
The wheels rolled over the dirt road with a dull creaking sound. The cart was piled like a small mountain with rice, flour, oil, salt, and several bolts of brightly colored fabric, dazzling in the sunset.
It was mealtime, and villagers gathered under the big tree with bowls in hand, staring wide-eyed.
“Good heavens! That’s the Su family’s cart? Why did they buy so much stuff?”
“That must be a whole sack of fine rice—how much would that cost?”
“Look at that! Isn’t that Xiao family boy wearing new clothes? That fabric looks thick and expensive!”
Envy, jealousy, and curiosity all hooked onto the cart like invisible claws.
Su Qinghe ignored it all, sitting cross-legged in the cart, cracking sunflower seeds loudly. Xiao Hanyuan drove the cart with a straight back, his dark blue cotton robe making his tall, lean frame look even colder and more distant, forcing anyone who tried to approach to retreat.
When the cart stopped in front of their broken fenced yard, before they could even unload, hurried footsteps approached.
Wang Shi arrived with Su Daqiang, her husband, followed by several villagers who loved watching drama.
The moment she entered the yard, her eyes locked onto the goods like radar, finally fixing on the white flour sack. She swallowed hard.
“Qinghe, you really are capable! I knew our Su family wouldn’t produce useless people!” Wang Shi forced a smile, powder almost falling off her face. “Now that you’ve made money, don’t forget your uncle and aunt. Back when your parents passed away, if it weren’t for us…”
“If it weren’t for you seizing our five acres of land and forcing me into this broken hut to survive, my life would be much better now.”
Su Qinghe jumped down from the cart, brushing off seed shells, cutting her off with a faint smile.
Wang Shi’s smile froze, then turned to anger.
“You ungrateful brat! Is that how you speak to your elders? I heard you’re making money from chestnuts? Perfect—your uncle’s been tight on money lately, and your uncle’s waist is bad. Give us five taels of silver as filial respect.”
Five taels?
They really had the nerve.
Before Su Qinghe could respond, a tall figure stepped in front of her.
Xiao Hanyuan held his whip, the tip resting on the ground. He looked down at Wang Shi, his dark eyes like ink without light. He said nothing, but the murderous aura that seemed to rise from a battlefield instantly lowered the temperature of the entire courtyard.
Wang Shi shivered, instinctively stepping back, yet still muttered viciously, “What, an in-law son wants to hit people? You’ve gone mad!”
“We have no money,” Su Qinghe said, stepping out from behind him, grabbing a broom and planting it firmly on the ground. “And no lives to give either. If you don’t leave, I’ll report you for trespassing and robbery!”
“You—!” Wang Shi trembled in rage.
Su Daqiang, who had been standing behind her with a dark face, suddenly stepped forward.
“You insolent thing!”
He spat furiously, his face turning liver-colored. “How dare you speak to your aunt like that? You ungrateful wolf! You think just because you have a bit of money you can forget your ancestors?”
He pointed accusingly at her nose, performing the role of a heartbroken elder as if he had been wronged by the heavens themselves.
The surrounding villagers began whispering.
“Still, he is her uncle…”
“They did raise her after all…”
“Even if they took the land, at least they didn’t let her starve…”
Hearing the murmurs, Su Qinghe laughed in anger.
She jumped down from the cart and walked step by step toward Su Daqiang, her eyes cold and full of mockery.
“Uncle, is your face made of shoe soles? It’s pretty thick.”
She sneered loudly, her voice cutting through the noise.
“If we’re going to settle accounts, let’s do it properly—in front of the whole village.”