He Zifeng helped carry He Fan to his room along with the others. Once everyone had left and the place was quiet, He Zifeng pulled out a small pouch containing 200 wen. “This is for you, keep it for small expenses. Don’t tell anyone,” he said.
He Fan had clearly been pushed to the brink. The family was already at rock bottom. He Zifeng had resolved before coming that if it had been a life-or-death situation, he’d have given the full tael of silver. But seeing that the injuries weren’t too severe, he decided to give 200 wen instead. After all, the money his family earned was hard-earned, and he couldn’t afford to become their go-to source for emergencies.
“Thank you, Second Brother,” He Fan said.
Looking at him, He Zifeng said, “Stay away from the mountains in the future.” With that, he turned and left.
He Fan felt reluctant to see him go, but he knew their family owed He Zifeng far too much. Since the split, they had no real claim on his help. Just showing up today was already more than enough.
He Zifeng realized there was no saving this family. With a three-year-old child, two disabled members, and an elderly person to care for, the burden on Wan Hai and Xu Li was immense—but that wasn’t his concern.
As he prepared to leave, his aunt and He Donglai intercepted him. “What, you’re not even going to acknowledge us? No greeting, nothing?” his aunt sneered.
Since the day she’d fallen into the cesspit, her shame had haunted her. Returning to the village, she’d faced ridicule, and even after days of scrubbing, she still felt dirty. Seeing He Zifeng stirred up all those bitter memories.
He Zifeng replied calmly, “Etiquette? What etiquette? We’ve split households.”
His aunt retorted, “Your father raised you from birth, cleaned your waste and fed you. And now that you’ve grown wings, you think you can just leave the family?”
He Zifeng turned back to look at her and his scummy father. “What do you want?”
“You think that signing some silly papers solves everything?” she snapped. “Your father’s old, and you won’t support him? Your brother’s bedridden, and you won’t have your wife take care of him?”
He Zifeng chuckled, a laugh that made He Donglai shiver.
“You’re full of crap,” He Zifeng said coldly. “Everyone in the village knows what happened. If you’re dissatisfied, feel free to bring it up with the county office. Oh, by the way, that’s under my jurisdiction now.”
His aunt’s expression shifted as she glanced nervously at He Donglai. “What does he mean?” she asked.
“He’s a constable now,” He Donglai replied.
Even someone as dense as his aunt understood the weight of that title. Constables held more authority than the village chief. She stood there awkwardly, unsure how to swallow her words.
He Zifeng turned to his father. “Don’t even think about it. You’ve turned a good life into this mess, and you still won’t stop?”
He Donglai, who had never taken his second son seriously, now saw that He Zifeng had become the most capable one in the family. Feeling cornered, he snapped, “Your brother’s sick! You should at least give us some money. You’re earning so much now—how can you not contribute?” His eyes burned with jealousy, seeing how far He Zifeng had come.
“Whoever has children, raises them,” He Zifeng shot back. “If you’re not capable, why did you have so many?”
Few insults cut deeper than questioning a man’s ability, and hearing this from his least-favored son made He Donglai tremble with fury. “You… you…”
Wan Hai and Xu Li entered, breaking the tension.
He Zifeng had become a figure of prestige in the village, while relations with his own family remained icy. Xu Li found it a pity but couldn’t do much. Wan Hai’s stubborn pride had turned obsessive, and Xu Li didn’t dare attempt reconciliation.
He Zifeng’s claim of being short on money no longer fooled anyone.
The He family’s situation had deteriorated drastically since his departure. Two sickly children, ongoing financial struggles, and future marriage expenses—everything loomed like an insurmountable mountain.
He Zifeng said, “Since all the decision-makers are here, I’ll offer you a solution if you want money.”
Everyone turned their attention to him.
He Zifeng continued, “The most valuable assets in the family are the fields and the sauce shop. I’ll pay six taels of silver per mu of land, and as for the sauce shop, I’ll offer fifty taels. If you agree, I’ll go gather the money.” Selling these would solve their financial troubles.
But He Donglai immediately exploded in anger. “I’d rather starve to death than sell them to you! You’ve got a black heart, only thinking about taking what’s mine!”
He Zifeng calmly replied, “If fifty taels isn’t enough, the next offer will only be forty.” Then, he added a chilling statement: “The only reason I’m offering this much for the sauce shop is because I’m taking pity on you, considering your old age and weak state. Don’t think I don’t know the recipe.”
For years, He Donglai believed he kept the recipe well-guarded.
But He Zifeng had been working at the sauce shop since he was fifteen, handling every tough task. There was nothing about it he didn’t already know. The recipe was the shop’s only true asset; the rest of the equipment and tools, even at their best value, would only fetch twenty taels at most.
At its peak, the sauce shop could earn nearly a hundred taels a year. But now, its fortunes had plummeted. The sauces, sold at a discount, might not even find buyers, and they could barely afford workers. At this rate, they were bound to lose money.
Wan Hai, having seen the prosperity of the county town, was tempted by the offer. Since discovering his Gong family roots, he believed he had a knack for business but lacked the capital to pursue it. Every time he tried to scrape together a mere two hundred wen, he faced scolding. At this rate, it’d take forever to save enough to start his own business in town.
He Zifeng saw their varying reactions, said no more, and left.
Once he was gone, the tension eased, and Wan Hai said, “Father, I think Second Brother has a point.”
His aunt shot back, “What point? This is our only family asset. If it’s gone, our ancestors will curse us from their graves!” She then turned to He Donglai. “My two sons are free right now; I’ll have them come over to help with the work in a few days.”
“There’s no work for them here,” He Donglai said flatly.
“Don’t be polite,” she insisted, noticing the rain easing up and deciding to leave.
Wan Hai grew anxious. “Father, Aunt is just trying to plant her sons here. She clearly has ulterior motives!”
He Donglai wasn’t oblivious. His siblings had always resented him for inheriting the sauce shop. The shop’s value lay in its recipe. If everyone got involved, it would ruin the business.
“I’ll sell the sauce shop,” He Donglai declared. “I’ll sell it to someone in the village—ideally one of my brothers—for sixty taels. The money will go toward your brothers’ marriages.”
He had lost interest in running the sauce shop, which now required him to front money for diminishing returns. Initially, he’d planned to pass it on to Wan Hai, but now he reconsidered. Wan Hai wasn’t his biological son, and He Tong and He Fan weren’t capable. Though He Zifeng had the skills, Donglai couldn’t bear to admit defeat to him. Selling the shop to someone else seemed the safest bet.
Wan Hai hesitated. “But Mother just passed away. Traditionally, we should observe a year of mourning.”
“Nonsense!” He Donglai snapped. “How can your brothers manage without a proper caretaker? Do you expect me to handle everything?”
Wan Hai and Xu Li had no choice but to comply.
“Understood, Father,” Wan Hai said.
“Go ahead. Once it’s done, you’ll get your share,” Donglai promised.
Wan Hai set out to finalize the sale, and news quickly spread. The once-prosperous camel of a business now appeared to be collapsing, with its legacy up for sale. Despite this, many villagers were interested, knowing the value of the recipe.
He Zifeng returned home and recounted the events to Qiu Yu, who asked, “Do you really want to buy the sauce shop?”
“Of course not. If I had the money, I’d buy a shop in town. What’s the point of a sauce shop? I already know how to make the sauce. I could brew a batch next year if I wanted. It wouldn’t even cost much. I just want to keep them busy so they don’t eye the little we’ve saved. That money is for raising our child!”
Qiu Yu nodded in agreement. “Makes sense.”
Before long, the village’s Yu family pooled sixty taels of silver, securing the purchase of the sauce shop in front of half the village. They acquired the recipe, the land, and all the shop’s contents.
The villagers admired the Yu family’s boldness, praising their daring decision to risk debt for a business.
Donglai kept the sixty taels, giving Wan Hai just 500 wen as a token.
Wan Hai seized the chance. “Father, I want to start a business.”
“Go ahead,” Donglai replied indifferently.
“I don’t have any capital,” Wan Hai said.
“Then don’t do it.”
Wan Hai tried again. “Father, could you lend me thirty taels? I’ll repay you once I start earning.”
Donglai dismissed him. “Wan Hai, I’m just your stepfather. That money is for your brothers’ weddings. Be reasonable.”
He walked off with the silver, leaving Wan Hai stunned and speechless.
Thank you so much for support ♡(´･ω･)(･ω･`)♡ :Ko-fi
