The middle-aged man frowned, calculating silently in his heart.
He had just made fifteen taels off this old woman by selling her stale rice. All things considered, he wasn’t really at a loss. One tael was just one tael—better than having this girl stuck in his hands and causing the ruin of an entire family.
After thinking it through, he gritted his teeth. “Go! Call that auntie back for me!”
The shop assistant ran out at once and hurriedly brought Wu Yulan back.
“Auntie, you’re one of our biggest customers. If I weren’t a bit tight on cash lately, I’d just give you this person for free.”
The middle-aged man put on a generous expression, as if he truly were that magnanimous.
“Boss, you’re really generous! In that case, we’ll settle it for one tael of silver.”
Wu Yulan took out a small piece of broken silver.
The middle-aged woman pinched one corner of the contract of sale, as if she were holding something filthy.
“The person is in the woodshed in the back courtyard. Go bring her away.”
Wu Yulan checked the contract several times to make sure there were no problems before carefully putting it away.
Once she took this contract to the authorities to have it officially processed, and then tore it to pieces, Song Jinhua would regain her freedom.
“Alright then, Boss. As for the rice, have a few of your men help haul it for me!”
The middle-aged man forced a smile. “Heh heh, sure. I’ll arrange some workers right away. Wait by the back gate in a bit and show them the way.”
Wu Yulan curled her lips slightly and headed toward the woodshed in the back courtyard.
…
Song Jinhua was exhausted and drowsy. When she woke and saw the red bumps covering her body, she thought she had truly contracted smallpox.
And that Grandma had come to save her—surely that had only been a dream.
Something like that could only happen in dreams. So it must have been a dream.
“Of course it was a dream. How could it not be? Grandma hates me the most. She sold me with her own hands. Why would she come save me?”
“Am I about to die? Is that why I’m having such unrealistic dreams?”
Song Jinhua gave a self-mocking smile and lay back down on the pile of straw.
Sleep… sleep… Return to that dream. If in the dream Grandma rescues me and takes me home, that would be enough…
Who knew how long passed before, in her daze, she seemed to hear someone calling her name.
She opened her eyes and saw her grandmother’s wrinkled, weathered face.
“Heh… dreaming again.”
“How could Grandma come for me? What foolish wishful thinking.”
Wu Yulan watched the girl mumbling to herself in a haze and raised her hand to smack her lightly on the head.
Smack!
“What are you spacing out for, girl? Hurry up and come with Grandma.”
Song Jinhua clutched her head, thinking this dream felt awfully real—getting hit even hurt.
“Grandma, I know this is a dream. You go on by yourself. I’m not going.”
Wu Yulan: …
She reached out and pinched Song Jinhua’s cheek hard.
“Ow! It hurts, it hurts!”
Wu Yulan pulled out a small pill and stuffed it straight into Song Jinhua’s mouth, nearly choking her until she saw stars.
“Awake yet? If not, I’ll pinch you again!”
Song Jinhua coughed for quite a while before finally swallowing the pill.
When she recovered, her eyes shone brightly. “Grandma, this isn’t a dream! You really came to save me!”
Wu Yulan took out the contract of sale. “Look—what’s this?”
Song Jinhua took it. She couldn’t read, but she recognized the handprints on the contract.
She pressed her thumb against it. “It’s my contract of sale—my contract!”
“Grandma, are you redeeming me and taking me home?”
“Really? Really?”
Overcome with excitement, Song Jinhua stepped forward and vigorously shook Wu Yulan’s arm.
“Stop, stop! These old bones of mine are about to fall apart from all your shaking!”
“Hurry up—we still have to go to the headman’s office to remove your slave status. We’ll be too late if we delay.”
Song Jinhua burst into laughter, tears and snot smeared across her face. She didn’t care and simply wiped them away with her sleeve.
“Let’s go.”
At that moment, she also noticed that the red bumps on her arms had gradually faded.
“Grandma, earlier when I fell asleep, I thought I had really caught smallpox. I even thought you coming to save me was just a dream.”
Wu Yulan tugged at the ragged cloth on Song Jinhua’s body, making sure all her exposed skin was covered. “It’s not a dream. Grandma is taking you home.”
Song Jinhua let Wu Yulan fuss over her. Then she suddenly thought of something and stopped in her tracks. “Grandma, I haven’t packed my clothes yet!”
“No need. Grandma will buy you new ones later.”
Wu Yulan thought to herself that the girl had suffered so much. Buying her a few new outfits as compensation wasn’t too much—and it would soothe the child’s fragile little heart.
“But Grandma, those clothes can still be patched and worn for work.”
She was used to poverty—unwilling to waste even the smallest thing.
Wu Yulan didn’t insist and let the girl have her way. But when they arrived at the small side room where she had slept, the clothes were nowhere to be found. All that remained on the ground was a small pile of ashes.
What had happened was self-evident.
“Let’s go. Those clothes were old anyway. If they burned them, so be it.”
In any case, she would settle the score with that couple.
Left with no choice, Song Jinhua followed Wu Yulan out empty-handed.
The shop assistants at the rice store all believed Song Jinhua had contracted smallpox. Not one of them dared let her sit near them.
Seeing this, Wu Yulan simply took it upon herself to drive an ox cart.
“Let’s go, everyone. I’ll make a stop at the headman’s office first to change this girl’s slave registration.”
The rice shop assistants heard this and suspected nothing, following along with Wu Yulan.
The ox cart swayed as it carried two thousand jin of aged rice toward the headman’s office.
Upon arrival, Wu Yulan took out a few copper coins, giving each assistant two.
“Thank you for waiting here for a bit, young brothers. I’ll go in to handle some business.”
They were already being paid for making deliveries. Not having to work and even receiving extra coins on top of that—there was no reason for them to refuse.
Wu Yulan watched them happily pocket the coins, the smile at the corners of her lips growing brighter.
The headman was responsible for managing township affairs, usually handling matters at the headman’s office together with the village chiefs.
After speaking to the gatekeeper, Wu Yulan first went to the office in charge of household registrations to remove Song Jinhua’s slave status. Then she went to find the headman.
When she located him, he was discussing some matter with several village chiefs.
“Headman.”
Wu Yulan cupped her hands respectfully in greeting.
The headman was a man in his seventies. Formerly a scholar, he had been appointed to the position by the county magistrate.
Seeing how courteous Wu Yulan was, the headman stroked his beard and stood up. “Mm. Which village are you from, and what brings you here?”
Minor trivial matters were usually handled by each village’s chief. Anyone who came directly to him generally had something more serious to report.
“Replying to Headman, this humble woman is from Songjia Village. I have come today to file a complaint against Gao Family Rice Shop for selling me moldy aged rice as if it were new grain.”
“Oh?”
The headman’s expression immediately turned stern.
The laws of Dongchen State clearly stipulated that any moldy or spoiled food must not be sold on the market. Once discovered, it was to be burned.
If this aged rice caused commoners to fall ill from poisoning, he, as headman, would also bear responsibility and face punishment.
With that thought, his tone grew more severe. “Is this true? Do you have evidence?”
Wu Yulan cupped her hands again. “Replying to Headman, I have just come from Gao Family Rice Shop. Their assistants are outside right now pulling a cart of aged rice. That is the best evidence.”
At this, the headman’s brows lifted slightly. This old woman was clever—she had brought the evidence right to his doorstep.
“If that is the case, I shall go with you. If it is truly as you say—that the Gao family sold you moldy aged rice as new grain—I will certainly punish them without leniency.”
After speaking, the headman turned to the village chiefs. “You are all experienced farmers. Distinguishing moldy aged rice from new rice should not be difficult. Come along with me.”
The village chiefs nodded and followed him out.
They had only taken a few steps when a familiar figure approached them head-on.