Fan Xin’s Private School, Kang He and Fan Jing prepared a red packet worth two strings of cash and sent it over.
Although there was no banquet for this event, the relatives all contributed money or brought gifts, making things lively at home.
When the private school opened its doors, it enrolled six students. Originally, there was only supposed to be one.
Kang He and Fan Xin understood that, just like when shops in town open, on the first and seventh days they would offer discounts or gifts to attract business.
Although a private school is a place for teaching and nurturing children, it’s still not a charity granary for disaster relief—it’s ultimately a business that earns money.
Speaking of money, everyone wants a good deal.
So, why not offer some benefits? For anyone who sends their child to the private school within this month, the first quarter’s tuition would be discounted by ten percent.
Other schools also charge tuition by the quarter. A typical private school charges one hundred copper coins per quarter, while those in the city ask for one or two hundred copper coins.
Fan Xin’s private school focused on literacy and charged less than the market rate—only two hundred and ten copper coins per quarter, a whole tenth cheaper than others.
If they discounted further, the tuition would be almost too low, and the family was hesitant to agree.
Kang He did the math for them: if they only enrolled one student, the tuition for a quarter would be six hundred and ten coins, which wasn’t even as much as a month’s wages as a shopkeeper in town.
Their main priority when starting the school was to build a good reputation and attract more children to study.
If there were too few students, it would only be for show, and they wouldn’t earn much.
Even a respected teacher with great virtue still needs to eat and spend money to live; the business can’t be run poorly.
It was better to offer a discount at first to attract more students, which would mean more tuition overall.
And it was only the first quarter with the discount; after that, the original rates would resume.
After some thought, the family agreed that none of them were as good as Kang He at managing business, so they followed his plan.
After a round of discussion, they decided to set the first quarter’s tuition at one hundred and eighty coins.
They didn’t expect that, after setting this price, another family actually sent their child over.
With a total of six students, they could collect over a string of cash per quarter, which was much better than just one student at two hundred and ten coins.
And since it was the busy autumn harvest, after the harvest ended and the farmers had more free time and money, they’d likely send more children to study one after another.
When the private school first opened, the Fan family prepared a room, and every day you could hear the sound of reading. The villagers, curious, would come to watch the excitement.
At first, Fan Xin would always see people peeking in through the window, and his face would turn red, making him stumble over his words as he read. He was thin-skinned, which made others laugh and tease him even more.
Seeing this, Kang He thought it wouldn’t do. If the villagers kept laughing at him, they wouldn’t respect him as a teacher, and then who would send their children to study?
Before classes started, he took Fan Xin with him to the city to help sell konjac vermicelli at a stall, teaching him to shout out to attract customers.
Even before going to the city, Kang He had Chen Shi help with the business, giving her some experience. After four or five days of this, Fan Xin’s fair face had tanned, and his skin had gotten thicker.
At last, in the classroom, he could stand tall and wasn’t afraid of people watching him teach anymore.
At first, Fan Shoushan and Zhang Jingui doted on their son and asked Kang He not to take him to the city to embarrass himself.
Kang He didn’t say much, letting Fan Xin decide for himself. Thankfully, Fan Xin understood it was for his own good and didn’t hide from it.
Later, seeing it actually helped, Fan Shoushan and Zhang Jingui stopped complaining and trusted Kang He even more, listening to whatever he said.
Taking the opportunity, Kang He suggested that Juner and Qiaor should also go to Fan Xin’s private school to audit some classes and learn a few characters.
Fan Xin had no objections. Having studied in the city, he’d seen families hire tutors for their daughters and sons. It was nothing bad for his own sisters to learn to read—a screen in the classroom would suffice for privacy.
Fan Shoushan and Zhang Jingui, being country folk, still thought girls didn’t need to study, but since Kang He brought it up, they could only thank him; there was no reason to refuse.
He said Juner and Qiaor could audit the classes, but the two girls would have to buy their own paper and brushes.
Chen Fang was deeply grateful to Kang He for thinking of the girls.
Juner and Qiaor were overjoyed at the chance to study.
It was something they’d never even dared to dream of—who could have imagined such good fortune?
The two girls cherished the opportunity, never lazing in bed whether it was hot or cold, always finishing their chores early before heading to study.
Especially Juner. She was getting older, already sixteen, and knew she’d have to marry in a year or two. She wanted to learn as much as she could before marriage, hoping it would be useful in the future.
A section on the private school.
In early October, the autumn harvest was coming to an end.
It went well—four mu of land yielded eight shi of grain.
With money on hand and after paying the required tenth as tax, the autumn had been dry and sunny, so the grain was safe from pests for now.
Father Fan thought things over, set some aside, and packed up some homemade snacks to share with the neighbors.
The family mainly ate rice, but hulling the grain was no easy task. Before, to get rice, he and Chen Shi would go to the sun-drying yard to use the public stone mill, grinding twenty or thirty jin at a time, which would take half a day.
Sometimes, when busy in the fields, there wasn’t time to grind rice, so they had to pound it by hand, which was even harder. With so many mouths to feed, pounding enough for one meal could take one or two hours, leaving their arms too sore to lift.
Compared to hand-pounding, the stone mill was much faster.
It was just like the well—there was a public one at the sun-drying yard, but unlike the well, which only took a quarter of an hour to draw water, grinding rice could take half a day, so you had to schedule in advance.
One day it was Zhang Jia’s turn, the next it was Li Jia’s. If you ran out of rice at home, you couldn’t just take your grain and expect to grind it right away.
Sometimes, if Zhang Jia was scheduled to grind rice but Li Jia rudely took their spot, the two families would argue, and things would get lively at the yard.
When Chen Yushun had just taken office, he would come to mediate, but now, who would bother?
Whenever the Fan family went to the sun-drying yard, they had to keep a close watch to hold their spot, since people saw them as easy to bully.
Father Fan was honest and didn’t know how to argue. Even when anxious, the words would tumble in his mouth like stir-frying vegetables, but never come out.
Every time, it was Chen Fang who would stand hands on hips and argue, coming home angry for days.
Father Fan would comfort her, saying, “When things get better, we’ll have our own stone mill at home, and then no one can take our spot.”
Chen Fang, seeing how poor the family was—sometimes going ten days or half a month without meat—thought buying a stone mill was a distant dream, and felt even more discouraged.
The family liked the idea of having their own mill, so when Stone Mason Ma finished making one, Kang He borrowed a cart from Xu Yang’s family, hitched it to their donkey, and brought the stone mill home.
The Fan family didn’t live right by the village road, so the cart couldn’t go straight into the yard. They unloaded the mill by the road, and the whole family helped carry the nearly one-hundred-jin stone mill into the courtyard.
Everyone was sweating, but they were excited. They quickly hulled some new rice, hitched the donkey to the mill, and tried it out—it worked wonderfully.
With a beast of burden to pull the mill, it was much easier than when Father Fan and Chen Shi had to do it themselves.
That day, some rain fell, and the weather started to cool.
Kang He was in the house sorting the autumn clothes from the chest, preparing to wash and air them out, so they’d be ready to wear after a few more rainy days when it got cold.
The summer clothes also needed to be gradually packed away.
Chen Fang returned from the city, luckily having brought an umbrella so she didn’t get soaked.
Despite the bad weather, she was in a good mood. She had personally bought two jin of konjac vermicelli from Zou Fulang’s candle shop, and sent over four pairs of fine candles, intending to ask Kang He to come to the shop.
The next day, Fan Jing was going out to do a Hog Slaughter, so he and Kang He left together.
When Zou Fulang saw Kang He, he brewed a pot of good tea and served a plate of Osmanthus Lotus Root Cake and a plate of Salted Fried Crispy Beans, telling Kang He to eat.
“You’re so polite, Zou Fulang. If you have any business, just say it. We’re old friends, after all.”
“To be honest, those Medicine Candles you made for me last time were very popular. Some wealthy folks even sent people to ask if they could buy more as gifts.
I told them these were rare and hard to get, but they sincerely wanted them, so I had no choice but to come to you.”
Kang He had guessed as much. Recently, he’d been busy with the autumn harvest and the private school, but he still managed to make some Medicine Candles at night.
He had planned to sell another batch before winter, since mugwort candles work best in summer, and in the cold months, only those who cough or suffer from aches would use them.
It was better for Zou Fulang to ask for them than for Kang He to have to beg people to buy.
“I’m glad the Medicine Candles are in demand. Even if I sell them, if they end up wasted, I’d feel bad.”
Kang He said, “But these are hard to make, and it’s not easy for me to get the materials.”
“See if you can find a way for me. As long as you can get them, I’ll make sure you’re rewarded.”
Kang He pretended to hesitate a few times, but finally agreed after Zou Fulang’s repeated requests, promising to deliver them in a few days.
Zou Fulang was delighted, saying he’d take as many as Kang He could make.
Back home, Kang He gathered up the candles he’d stored, counted them, and with the remaining jin of beeswax, made a total of twelve pairs of candles.
His technique had improved, so he wasted less beeswax and produced more finished candles.
When Fan Jing returned, he saw Kang He busy with the candles and asked, “Did Zou Fulang ask you for candles again?”
“They sell well. If he likes them, of course he’ll want more.”
Kang He put down the candles and walked over to Fan Jing. “Were you tired today?”
Fan Jing shook his head.
Kang He rolled up his sleeves and wiped the sweat from Fan Jing’s forehead, then took two packages of Steamed Rice Cake from the table. “Zou Fulang treated me to Osmanthus Sticky Rice Cake today. It tasted good, so I brought a package back for you to try.”
As soon as he opened it, a sweet fragrance wafted out.
Kang He actually thought it was a bit too sweet, but guessed Fan Jing would like it—these kinds of pastries weren’t easy to buy elsewhere.
When he complimented them, Zou Fulang immediately packed two bags for him to take home.
Fan Jing smelled it and seemed to like it. “I’ll eat it later. I need to take a bath first.”
After all, he couldn’t eat with the stench on him.
At today’s Hog Slaughter, the family only had a few people, but the pig was strong. Afraid they couldn’t handle it, Fan Jing helped drag it out of the pen, getting his clean clothes smeared with pig odor and some blood on him.
For lunch, they served cabbage stewed with pig blood, but no meat dishes at all.
When leaving, they didn’t give any meat, and even tried to haggle over the fee for Hu Yin Hui’s Hog Slaughter, being stingy to the extreme.
Hu Yin Hui was so angry he cursed all the way home.
Kang He laughed. “When you go out, you’ll meet all sorts. As long as we do our own work well and don’t get caught up in gossip, it’s fine.
Go take your bath. I saw there’s hot water in the pot. Want me to scrub your back?”
Fan Jing ignored Kang He and went to wash up.
While bathing, he washed his hair with Soapberry, then returned to eat Osmanthus Lotus Root Cake while Kang He dried his hair.
Kang He inhaled the fresh Soapberry scent on Fan Jing and found it very pleasant.
His mind wandered, and he tried to coax Fan Jing onto the bed.
But in broad daylight, at home, Fan Jing refused.
“Father and Mother are in the fields, Juner and Qiaor are at Xin’s studying. It’s just the two of us at home, what are you afraid of?”
“If we do this now, maybe we’ll sleep soundly tonight. Tomorrow morning, we’re going up the Mountain.”
Fan Jing asked, “What for?”
“I promised Zou Fulang I’d deliver Medicine Candles in a few days. If I just hand them over whenever he asks, it’ll cheapen them. While we have time, let’s go see if the old man who keeps bees is still around. If he is, we can buy some Honeycomb to store.”
As Kang He spoke, he pulled Fan Jing onto the bed.
Fan Jing couldn’t resist and could only let Kang He have his way.
Kang He kissed him, tasting the sweetness and finding it delightful.
The two were getting passionate on the bed when they heard a creak outside.
“These konjacs grew really well, so round and plump. You planted them well this year, even better than the wild ones from the Mountain. We’ll have plenty of konjac tofu to sell in winter.”
Chen Shi’s voice came from the yard.
“My farming skills speak for themselves,” Father Fan said proudly. “Let’s dig them all up while the weather’s good. If we wait until late autumn or winter when it rains, they’ll spoil in the ground.”
“Hey, let Kang He and Jing help out in the fields. With a few more hands, we’ll be done by noon. It won’t be much trouble.”
Inside, Kang He and Fan Jing heard them and dared not move.
Fan Jing nudged Kang He to stop.
“They don’t know we’re…”
“Is Jing and Kang He in? The water’s all scooped from the well, and there are clothes in the basin outside.”
Chen Fang circled the kitchen, muttering, then walked straight to the closed room.
She knocked on the door. “Jing, Kang He, are you in there?”
Fan Jing held his breath and quickly covered Kang He’s mouth.
Kang He could clearly sense Fan Jing’s nervousness and obediently made no sound, but mischievously arched his back a bit.
Fan Jing’s hand trembled, nearly losing strength, and he glared fiercely at Kang He.
Seeing Fan Jing getting angry, Kang He quickly nodded obediently.
“Eh, where did those two go? I thought they came back, but they’re not home.”
Chen Shi knocked a while, got no answer, and didn’t push the door.
She never entered their room casually. If she had tried, the door was bolted anyway, but she knew the two were inside.
“Maybe they went to Xin’s place. Those two are always working, busy with this or that. It’s good for them to have some time to relax.”
Father Fan, already inside, quickly poured himself some wine. “Start making dinner, so Kang He doesn’t have to cook when he gets back.”
Chen Fang scolded, “You’re always ordering people around, only good at talking and eating.”
“I’ll help you cook. You’re so sharp-tongued, always ready for an argument.”
Hearing the commotion outside, Kang He and Fan Jing both breathed a sigh of relief, quietly finishing up before stopping.
Occasionally, the bed would creak, and from the kitchen, Father Fan would talk about feeding the pigs and how they were rooting around in the pen.
When they finished, it was already getting late.
Fan Jing got dressed and went to unlock the door, but Kang He quickly whispered, “If you go out there, you’ll be caught by Father and Mother!”
Kang He put on his pants, opened the window, and pointed outside.
Fan Jing quietly climbed out the window, and the two of them snuck into the backyard, climbed over the courtyard wall, and circled around to enter through the main gate.
“Where have you two been? I saw Jing’s dirty clothes and thought you weren’t home yet.”
Chen Shi called out happily from the kitchen window.
Kang He laughed awkwardly. “We went to Xu Yang’s place for a bit. He invited us for a drink.”
Chen Shi said, “Your father guessed you two went out.”
Fan Jing said nothing and went straight to the Well to fetch water.
Now that the family had their own Well and a stone mill, Fan Jing didn’t have to avoid talking by chopping firewood like before.
Kang He leaned in and whispered, “Today we really got a taste of sneaking around.”
Fan Jing glanced at him, not wanting to reply.
The next day, before dawn, the two of them took some things and headed up the Mountain to Zhang Shili’s place, but he wasn’t home.
So Kang He and Fan Jing went straight to the bee-keeping spot.
It was early, but sometimes timing is everything. They found the old couple packing up their shack, with a mule tied to a tree.
“Old man, are you leaving?”
Kang He called out as he approached.
“Kang little brother?”
The old man put down his work and came over.
“My wife and I decided to set out while the weather’s good, hoping to reach warm Linya County before the twelfth month.”
Kang He nodded. “It’s nice there—warm, and you can see flowers blooming even in winter.”
The old man asked what brought them over, and Kang He explained.
“There’s Honeycomb, but you only want the Honeycomb?”
The old man thought Kang He was a reliable young man after their last deal, so he was at ease.
“I’ve harvested a lot of autumn Honey. There’s no more Honeycomb with honey, but there’s plenty of pure Honey. Once we leave, who knows when we’ll be back.”
Usually, they sold as they traveled, but if a good buyer bought dozens of jin at once, that was better than selling bit by bit.
Kang He smiled. “I wasn’t planning to buy Honey, but if you’re selling, do I get a good price?”
“If you buy a lot, I’ll give you the same price as last time, minus ten coins.”
“Deal. For that, I’ll take twenty jin.”
Kang He added, “But you have to give me the beeswax, too.”
“You can have it. It doesn’t fetch much outside. I have about twenty jin of beeswax from filtering, and ten or so jin of Honeycomb. It’s too much for me to carry, so take it if you want.”
Kang He was delighted to hear there was so much. He agreed to buy the beeswax at twenty coins per jin, and the Honeycomb was free.
He readily agreed: twenty jin of Honey for four strings and eight hundred coins, twenty-five jin of beeswax for five hundred coins, totaling five strings and three hundred coins.
They had come prepared, so they paid the old man on the spot.
Kang He and Fan Jing had previously made four strings of profit selling Wild Honey, and ten more from selling Medicine Candles, plus some odd earnings.
After giving out the Red Packets to Hu Yin Hui and Fan Xin, and paying for this batch, they still had about twenty strings left.
After two days, Kang He delivered the candles to Zou Fulang.
Zou Fulang was thrilled with the twelve pairs of candles. The box wasn’t just holding candles—it was practically full of silver.
“I knew you were capable. I couldn’t eat or sleep waiting for your candles.”
Kang He said, “Sorry to keep you waiting. I’ve run myself ragged and gotten cold shoulders just to get this done.”
Zou Fulang was pleased with everything and said, “Making money means suffering some grievances. Don’t think that just because I sit in the shop all day I don’t have to deal with difficult customers.
I know you’ve worked hard. This batch of candles is yours—name your price, and I’ll pay.”
Kang He smiled, but didn’t take advantage. Instead, he waved his hand. “Zou Fulang trusts me, that’s why he asked me for these candles. If I raised the price now, it would ruin our relationship.
Let’s keep it the same as last time. If you ever have good things, just think of me, and that’ll be enough.”
“How can I accept that?”
Zou Fulang was surprised by Kang He’s words.
Kang He replied, “We’re doing honest business here. These candles would be nothing but scented lights without Zou Fulang’s connections.”
Zou Fulang thought about it and realized Kang He really wasn’t like those short-sighted merchants.
He’d begged so many times; anyone else would have raised the price. It was rare for someone to stick to the old price, and Zou Fulang was touched, feeling Kang He was a true friend.
This batch of twelve pairs of Medicine Candles earned Kang He sixteen strings of cash.
Zou Fulang also gave him four jars of lamp oil, eight pairs of fine candles, and two copper Lotus Candle Holders.
He called Kang He his good brother and told him to come to the shop if he ever needed anything.
Kang He didn’t stand on ceremony and had Zou Fulang introduce him to a trusted blacksmith, where he ordered a new set of Pig Slaughtering Knives.