Chapter 107: Lively Xiaofu

Wan Jiarén followed Kang He to the spice fields. This season, the entire field was heavy with clusters of green spice fruits.

The green peppercorns emitted a strong, pungent aroma, the branches bowed low under the weight of the abundant clusters, truly a bountiful sight.

Although Wan Jiarén had seen these spice trees before, he had never witnessed an entire field like this. The sight of such a fruitful harvest weighed heavily on his heart with joy.

He couldn’t help but pluck a raw peppercorn and pop it into his mouth. The flavor was intensely spicy, causing his lips to go numb within moments, nearly losing all sense of taste.

He turned to Kang He and said, “This flavor is perfect! The fragrance is rich and lasting—truly good quality.”

Kang He smiled and replied, “Brother Wan, you’ve come at just the right time. This year, the spices matured a bit later than last year. Had they ripened earlier, by this time most of the good stuff would already have been picked and sold in the market.”

Wan Jiarén had hurried over to Luan County, even earlier than usual. In previous years, he often arrived later, but this time, his eagerness for the spice trade brought him early.

His journey wasn’t in vain—he was very pleased with the spices from the Fan family.

Having inspected the goods, Wan Jiarén began negotiating prices with Kang He. He planned to take these fresh spices northward, selling them along the way and purchasing local specialties to resell elsewhere.

“Currently, the price for fresh green peppercorns in the city is three hundred coins per jin, and mountain peppercorns fetch three hundred and twenty coins. This is common knowledge everywhere. As the world grows peaceful and the common folk live better lives, prices have risen. To be honest, Brother Wan, spice prices have gone up by about twenty coins compared to last year.”

Kang He continued, “Brother Wan has traveled a thousand miles to buy these goods, showing great respect to me. I can offer a slight concession on the price, but I cannot lower it too much. After all, spices are rare and sell easily in the city.”

Although selling in bulk guaranteed fast returns and security, the spices sold well even in the county, though selling them individually was a bit more troublesome. Still, the prices held firm.

If one were to sell everything at once just to save trouble, they would inevitably suffer a loss.

Wan Jiarén knew the market favored sellers now and that goods were easy to move. He couldn’t bargain much on the price but sensed an invitation to build a long-term partnership.

To promote enduring trade, he said, “Let’s go by Luan County’s market price. Brother Kang, thank you for reserving such fine goods for me. I would feel remiss if I didn’t show some business etiquette and sincerity.”

Seeing Wan Jiarén so earnest, Kang He readily agreed to the deal.

To preserve freshness and save time, Wan Jiarén had brought several men to help harvest the spices. Kang He also instructed Yi Huan, Er Xi, and Lian Erge to assist with picking.

Though the spice plants were prickly and difficult to handle, with many hands working, they finished gathering everything in just two or three hours.

Kang He’s field of green peppercorns, about half an acre, weighed in at 118 jin. Wan Jiarén only took 30 jin of mountain peppercorns, as the latter didn’t keep well. Being his first year in this business, he preferred to be cautious.

For merchants, selling spices at over three hundred coins per jin hardly counted as excessive. Considering labor, transportation, and losses, the costs were significant.

All told, Kang He sold about fifteen guan worth of spices.

Since the buyer was reliable, Kang He also gifted Wan Jiarén a small bottle of mountain peppercorn oil, about the size of a traditional medicine vial.

This little bottle was expensive—after all, it was pressed from fresh mountain peppercorns. One jin of fresh peppercorns yielded only a tiny bottle slightly larger than a fingertip.

However, Kang He had mixed in some vegetable oil, which preserved the oil’s unique fragrance while balancing the flavor.

Even so, that small bottle could sell for five hundred coins.

In addition, Kang He sent some smoked goods from his household for Wan Jiarén to enjoy on the road during his trade travels.

Grateful, Wan Jiarén promised Kang He that he would first work on opening sales channels. If successful, he would bring out some spice oil next year.

He also gifted Kang He a box of ginseng and a box of poria.

Only then did they part ways.

This time, the green peppercorns were sold off in one fell swoop. Last year, those who bought spices from Wan Jiarén’s shop came looking for the green peppercorns but could only purchase mountain peppercorns.

Kang He felt the spice business was lucrative, but his stock was too limited.

He and Fan Jing traveled between villages collecting fresh peppercorns to sell at the shop.

Though the profit margin was small, it wasn’t about the money—it was to let people know his family still sold this spice.

If next year Wan Jiarén didn’t come, others would still know where to buy these spices.

Fresh mountain peppercorns weren’t as easy to sell as green peppercorns. Once the fruits ripened fully and could no longer stay on the tree, Kang He would pick them all and take them to the oil shop to be pressed into fragrant oil.

He reserved some to sell in his own shop and stored the rest at home, giving them as gifts during festivals.

Whether rich or poor, everyone needed their daily meals. For wealthy households, gifting two small bottles of spice oil was considered quite respectable.

This helped ease the burden of tax payments due in early October.

Regarding land taxes, there were two main types: paying money or paying in kind.

The money payment was collected early in the year when village officials urged farmers to start work. This tax was roughly calculated as 30% of a year’s crop value, estimated at six guan per mu of land.

Once the money was paid, the farmer was exempt from paying grain taxes for that year.

The other method was paying 30% of the harvest itself, regardless of yield quality or quantity.

Many farmers preferred the latter, as spring was a tight time financially, and they weren’t sure how the harvest would turn out.

If the harvest was excellent, paying money upfront was better; if poor, they lost out.

Most of the Fan family’s fields were taxed in kind, but the spices were taxed in money.

Because there had been no yield in the first few years, they couldn’t pay in produce. Had they been planting regular crops, the government might have granted some relief or aid, but spices weren’t afforded such leniency.

Now that the spices had a yield, the profits far exceeded six guan per mu, so paying money tax was quite profitable.

Of course, some of the profits had to cover the unpaid taxes from previous years when there was no harvest.

Overall, the upfront costs were high, so despite the good profits, few people engaged in spice farming.

One reason was the cost; another was the earlier years’ unrest—no one wanted to plant something that wouldn’t fill their bellies. Even those with land and money avoided it.

But in recent years, Kang He and Fan Jing had seen a few families in other villages beginning to cultivate spices, though in small amounts and still experimenting.

Kang He wasn’t sure if the tax policy would change in the future, so he resolved to earn as much as possible while he could.

In late winter, the Fan family held a banquet to celebrate Little Fu’s hundredth day.

They hadn’t hosted a big feast for some time, so this was a modest gathering.

People from town and countryside came in great numbers. For the earlier banquet for Da Fu’s hundred days, twenty tables had barely sufficed, with two extra tables added.

Over the years, more visitors came and went, so Kang He prepared twenty-five tables this time.

It was just enough.

“Look at this little one, he looks just like Da Jing, as if cut from the same mold,” said Zhang Jinguì from the main branch, holding Little Fu and chatting with relatives.

“Careful now, not as sturdy as Da Fu,” someone teased.

Little Fu blew two small bubbles of saliva. Seeing Zhang Jinguì’s unfamiliar face and smelling the strange scents on her, he opened his cat-like eyes wide, curiously taking in the crowd.

Suddenly, he burst into tears.

“Such a delicate child. Why cry when being held by the wet nurse?” someone remarked.

The wet nurse, heart aching at the crying, reached to take Little Fu from Zhang Jinguì. “The child’s shy around strangers. I’ll hold him and watch over him with everyone.”

But Zhang Jinguì refused to hand over the child. “A child this old shouldn’t be shy. If spoiled, he’ll grow up with a bad temper. I’ll hold him longer and help him overcome his shyness.”

She puckered her lips and cooed to soothe Little Fu.

The wet nurse bit her tongue. On such a happy occasion, it was awkward to challenge a close family member. She could only watch anxiously.

Relatives, seeing the child crying harder, urged Zhang Jinguì to let the wet nurse hold him, but she wouldn’t listen. She cheerfully joked that children just loved to fuss.

No one said much—they all knew how fond she was of children but couldn’t have her spoiling them. Whenever she saw a child outside, she wanted to hold them warmly but often lacked a gentle touch, sometimes making the children cry.

If anyone scolded her, she’d say the children had difficult natures, treated like treasures and spoiled.

Da Fu, Shiwu, and several children of similar age from the village were playing with firecrackers outside.

Hearing the crying, Da Fu’s ears perked up. He dropped his firecracker and ran straight to Zhang Jinguì.

Seeing Little Fu’s red eyes and his wet nurse happily boasting to relatives, he frowned and scolded, “Wet nurse, brother wants to sleep. Let Nurse Liu take him back inside.”

“It’s time for a nap. If he doesn’t sleep now, he’ll fuss later,” the wet nurse said, quickly taking Little Fu back.

If not for Da Fu’s timely arrival, she would have gone to find Fan Jing and Kang He, who were still attending guests.

The relatives smiled, “Da Fu really knows when his brother needs to sleep. That’s what an elder brother looks like.”

Da Fu ignored their praise, bowed politely, and darted back outside.

Seeing both children from the second branch behaving well, Zhang Jinguì pursed her lips, feeling a bit unsettled inside.

Life passed slowly, unhurriedly, and two years slipped by just like that.

“Master Shi’s sixtieth birthday banquet is going to be lively. Even the county magistrate is attending to honor him. Are you really not going?” Kang He asked.

“That invitation was hard to get. If I didn’t think of all the kindness Master Shi has shown me, I would’ve sold it for a high price long ago,” replied Bao Sange.

Kang He popped a piece of sesame-flavored rabbit meat into his mouth and poured Bao Sange a cup of wine. “I have no ties with Master Shi. Why should I crash his party? Besides, twenty guan for one ticket—too expensive for me.”

“I often think you’re capable but a bit inflexible. The county magistrate will be there, and many important people will attend. If you make some connections, twenty guan isn’t too much to pay,” Bao Sange said sincerely, having grown close to Kang He over the years.

“If I hadn’t gotten the ticket myself, it would have been wasted on Master Shi,” Bao Sange added.

“I appreciate your kindness, Brother Bao, but I really don’t like such things,” Kang He replied. “I’m thinking more about finding a good shopfront. I want to set up a proper business.”

Bao Sange sighed when he realized Kang He was firm about not going to the banquet and stopped persuading.

Instead, he said, “I heard there are a few good shops on South Main Street that will be put up for sale soon.”

Kang He’s eyes brightened. “You mean those three shops right at the front?”

“Yes, they’ve been closed for some time. I heard the owner, a big merchant from another county, got into trouble and the property was seized by the government. Word is the shops will be sold.”

Bao Sange cautioned, “The news isn’t certain. I just wanted you to hear it early. If you want one, start preparing your money now. If they go on sale, many will want them. You might not get one, but without funds, you definitely won’t.”

Kang He nodded and poured another cup for Bao Sange.

After chatting a while longer, Bao Sange left with a slab of fresh pork, his face flushed from the heat.

On a hot day, Qiao’er went to Luò’s place to visit Zhen’er and have iced drinks.

With little business at the shop, clerk Zhu Hua was leisurely cleaning pots outside the He family shop.

Fan Jing stayed busy, sharpening the butcher’s knives until they gleamed.

He Xiaoqiu was close to giving birth, her belly large, and had been resting at home recently.

Zhang Shili’s heart was tightly tied to his wife and child. He rarely came to the shop, spending most days out slaughtering pigs.

He and his wife kept a closer watch on the shop these days.

Kang He said, “Bao Sange didn’t give me a ticket for the banquet. I’ll just sneak in at Master Shi’s place.”

He fetched a dry cloth and began wiping the still-damp knives Fan Jing had just sharpened.

“Remember the year a scholar passed the imperial exam here? He had tickets too but didn’t sell one to me. I heard he set up a school recently and is recruiting students. If I’d gone to the banquet, maybe I could’ve gotten connections to send Da Fu to study.”

Fan Jing shook his head, “Master Shi only accepts select students. It’s not that easy.”

“I know. More and more families send their kids to school now. The classrooms are full, and the teachers who can prepare students for the exams charge high fees and only accept talented children.”

Even Fan Xin’s private school, which only taught basic literacy, had more children than before and classrooms were packed.

With peace and prosperity, families were better off and had more children. Naturally, more kids went to school.

Getting accepted by Master Shi was no small matter.

Though they understood this, Kang He and Fan Jing still felt hopeful. Da Fu wanted to study, and as his father, they wanted to send him somewhere better.

In the afternoon, they closed the shop and took the carriage home.

By the time they arrived, sweat drenched their clothes. Kang He was about to take a bath with Fan Jing when a soft little figure jumped into his arms.

“Daddy, Uncle.”

Kang He’s eyes softened as he bent down and lifted the little one. “Have you been behaving at home today?”

Chen Sanfang came out, frowning. “Your ears are fine, but just now you were pestering me to play slingshot with you. I turned away for a moment, and you vanished. Luckily, we haven’t heard of kidnappers lately. If it were Da Fu, he might’ve been snatched away by now.”

Fan Jing saw the pair of eyes spinning on Kang He’s shoulder and couldn’t help but pinch Little Fu’s nose. His expression softened noticeably.

“I don’t know where he gets all this energy. Today he refused to nap. Da Fu went to sleep for a while, but Little Fu kept crawling all over the bed, disturbing Da Fu’s rest. Look at the time—he’s still so lively!”

Chen Sanfang both loved and fretted over Little Fu. When Kang He and Fan Jing returned home, she always had endless complaints about him.

Kang He kissed Little Fu’s cheek. “It’s good for children to be lively. When Da Fu was younger, he was also quite hyperactive. But these past two years, with all his studying, he’s not lively anymore.”

They laughed and played with Little Fu inside.

Kang He was about to take a bath when Lian Erge entered, saying Xu Yang had arrived.

Fan Jing took Little Fu into his arms. The little one was never still, poking at Fan Jing’s mouth and ears.

After a while, he leaned on his shoulder and nibbled gently on his ear—he knew not to bite hard but loved biting ears.

“Did you come by just now?” Kang He asked.

Xu Yang entered, gulped a bowl of tea, and sat down with a thud. “It’s nothing big, but there’s something important.”

Kang He laughed, “Don’t keep us in suspense. Important or not?”

“Those two kids have been studying at Da Xin’s place for two or three years now. Recently, my father came back to the village and quizzed them on their lessons. He said the boys are doing quite well. Da Xin said, of all the kids he’s taught, these two are among the most diligent and clever.”

Xu Yang continued, “My father and grandfather think the boys are about seven or eight now and should be taken to the city for proper schooling. They have talent and shouldn’t be wasted.”

“Da Xin’s teaching isn’t bad, but he only covers the basics. If the boys want to achieve something in the future, that’s not enough.”

“The family has been urging me to bring them over. I finally had some free time and came to discuss with you both and see what your plans are.”

Kang He was pleased to hear Xu Tongsheng’s praise of the boys.

“So, Xu Tongsheng wants both boys studying under Xu Ye?”

“They’ve been together since they were little, studying side by side and encouraging each other. Both my father and grandfather are very fond of them. There’s no reason not to put them in the same school.”

Kang He said, “I’ve talked with Da Jing about sending Da Fu to the city for school. But we haven’t arranged a place to stay yet. Having the child commute daily through all seasons would be too hard.”

Xu Yang said, “No need to rush finding a place in the city. Good housing takes time to find. Da Fu is sensible and obedient; he could stay at my father’s without issue.”

“That would be too much trouble for your family.”

“What trouble? The two boys will keep each other company.”

Kang He worried about imposing on the Xu family, but also said, “If they live together, they might get into mischief. Well, we’ll first discuss how to arrange Da Fu’s schooling.”

Xu Yang nodded, “Of course. Don’t worry about troubling us. If the boys have no proper place to stay, just send them to us.”

Kang He smiled gratefully at Xu Yang’s kindness. Their relationship was close enough that no formalities were needed.