Rebirth: Not Being a Waste - Chapter 114

A meal of deer meat, accompanied by a pot of wine, had the old doctor nodding in satisfaction. Seeing how much he enjoyed it, Li Yan took a basket and packed the remaining deer meat, stuffing a pheasant and a bunch of mushrooms into it as well.

The old doctor didn’t charge them for the consultation, saying that since he hadn’t prescribed any medicine and the visit had been brief, there was little cost involved. He also had an old relationship with Zhou Nan’s Aba, so he decided to forgo the fee. However, Li Yan, in return, filled the basket with enough goods to make up for it.

Since the doctor had mentioned that twins were prone to premature birth, the Li family began looking for midwives experienced in delivering twins. As long as the midwife had the necessary experience, they were happy to take them in and ensure they were well-fed and housed at the Li family’s home until the babies were born. Furthermore, once the babies were safely delivered, the midwife would receive a generous payment.

After a lengthy search, they finally found a stable ger named Wan, who had reportedly delivered four or five sets of twins. He had started his work as a midwife in his thirties, and by his fifties, he had helped deliver more than half of the young ger and boys in the area.

Wan’s family wasn’t wealthy, as not all families paid in coin for a birth—many just offered a few handfuls of grain or a few eggs. But when he heard that the Li family was offering a generous payment, he agreed to come.

Being a down-to-earth country person, Wan didn’t just sit idly around eating. He often helped Li Aba with tasks like cleaning the yard and feeding the chickens. When there was nothing else to do, he would help Zhou Nan take a few steps, as pregnant individuals nearing delivery shouldn’t lie in bed all day.

Sometimes, Li Aba would ask him about childbirth and post-birth care, and Wan would share everything he knew without reservation.

The food at the Li family’s home was plentiful, and Wan had gained some weight since arriving. However, Zhou Nan’s belly still hadn’t shifted, and Wan began to feel a bit awkward. He hadn’t expected to stay for so long, and after over a month, he felt guilty about eating and drinking for free.

One morning, he packed his things and went to say his goodbyes to the Li family, explaining that his home was nearby and he wouldn’t be going anywhere during this time. He said to call him when the time came.

The Li family insisted that he stay, with Li Yan even trying to pull him back into the room. Giving birth was risky, and twins even more so. If something went wrong, who would take responsibility for the children’s well-being?

Seeing their sincerity, Wan finally agreed to remain.

Zhou Nan’s babies turned out to be good and decided to arrive just as Wan was about to leave. On the third night, labor began. It was the night of July 14th. People often said that children born on this day were exceptionally bright and good at studying!

The next day was the Mid-Year Festival, but at least the babies hadn’t come on that day. Li Yan didn’t believe in such superstitions, though. Regardless of the day they were born, they were his children, and he didn’t buy into the idea of “hard luck” because of the birth date. His family was made up of hunters who had seen plenty of bloodshed, so they weren’t afraid of any spirits coming to find them.

Li Aba slapped him lightly, as if to say, “Don’t be silly. The day they’re born is just the day they’re born. Don’t speak nonsense if you don’t understand.”

Li Yan chuckled sheepishly, then went to check on Zhou Nan and the twins.

The babies were small and red, wrapped tightly in swaddling clothes. Their faces were wrinkled, like little old men. Li Yan thought back to when Qianjin was born and felt he hadn’t looked so bad. He reassured himself, remembering that Qianjin was a ger, and thought it was enough for a man to be capable rather than beautiful.

Though the twins were premature and not fully developed, Wan assured them it was completely normal. All the babies he had delivered had been in the same situation, and they all grew up healthy.

Once the babies were safely born, Li Yan gave Wan a large envelope of congratulatory money—an amount equal to, if not more than, what Wan typically earned in a few months. Wan thanked him profusely and couldn’t help but think of Li Mujin, who was due to give birth soon. He made a mental note to visit when the time came.

Li Mujin had been looking great during this pregnancy. He had felt no sickness and seemed more energetic than when he had been pregnant with Qianjin. However, the Zhang family didn’t let him do much work, and he wasn’t even allowed to hold Qianjin.

Qianjin, now a bit older, loved to move around. Holding him for too long felt like a struggle, as he often broke free from his arms. After half an hour, it felt like a battle.

This left Qianjin feeling aggrieved. Why didn’t his Aba hold him? He would stretch out his arms, but every time, his father would pull him away. Eventually, Li Mujin sat with Qianjin on the mat to play, sparing him the frustration.

The twins were almost one month old now. Though they had been small at birth, they had grown well. The family had brought back three milk sheep, so they wouldn’t go hungry.

Qianjin would soon turn one and had already stopped drinking milk, beginning to eat complementary foods. But whenever he visited his uncle’s house and saw the twins drinking milk, he would rush over, causing a scene. Usually, he managed to get some milk when his Aba wasn’t around.

Now, Qianjin could say a few words, with “want” being his most common phrase. No matter how people teased him, he would keep repeating, “Want, want, want.”

After the full moon celebration, on August 15th, Zhang Shu and his family went to the fields to dig potatoes. The northern potatoes had been planted earlier, so they were harvested sooner.

The roots of these potatoes were buried deeper underground, making them harder to dig up than the southern varieties, but they were larger and produced more pollen.

Grandpa Zhang hadn’t controlled his strength properly when digging, and with one swing of the hoe, he unearthed a sweet potato as big as a bowl. White juice oozed out continuously—this was all the powder from the sweet potato. The old man was distressed and, with his next few attempts, became much more cautious, almost as though he were tickling the ground.

However, after digging a few more times, he gained experience. First, he traced the main root along the vine, then dug a circle around it, exposing the large sweet potato isolated from the others.

Typically, three or four potatoes grew in a nest. If there were fewer, one of them was particularly large. In the south, a nest might contain seven or eight potatoes, each one smaller and more delicate. If you found one about the size of your palm, it was considered well-grown.

The potatoes from this patch were dug up and weighed, totaling more than 400 kilograms. In comparison, potatoes grown on the same size of land in the south only yielded around 250 kilograms.

Zhang Shu decided to first extract the flour and see how much vermicelli he could make. After working through the process, he found that the vermicelli produced was much more than what was made from autumn potato flour, and it was more flexible and flavorful when cooked.

He made a quick decision to halt the digging of the other fields and decided to save them for seeds. Even though he hadn’t planted spring potatoes, he had ended up planting only potatoes.

Soon, the potatoes were harvested. This year’s yield was also impressive, with nearly 140,000 kilograms of potatoes harvested across the entire region. It took over two months to turn them all into vermicelli.

Once the vermicelli was made, Huang Tianhang arrived. Last year, he had earned a significant profit reselling Zhang Shu’s vermicelli. With the added effort to promote it during their escorts, the quantity Huang Tianhang requested this time was even larger than before.

Zhang Shu agreed to all of his requests. Aside from the quantity reserved for his own store, Lin Family Inn, and Hu Caiwang, he sold the rest to Huang Tianhang and received a stack of silver bills for his family.

Meanwhile, in the north, Young Master Chu’s operation couldn’t exactly be called a workshop. He had enclosed a large piece of land near the fields outside the city and turned it into a massive yard capable of accommodating thousands of workers.

The north, being sparsely populated, had land prices far lower than in the south, where land was precious. As one of the region’s big landlords, the Chu family calculated their land in hectares.

Young Master Chu planted potatoes and sweet potatoes on all the land he controlled and even convinced his brothers to plant them as well. Unfortunately, not everyone was willing to grow these crops, which were common in the north, so he wasn’t entirely successful.

Young Master Chu wasn’t one to waste effort, though. He hadn’t really tried to persuade others to plant. His aim was simply to make preparations. If they ever claimed he hadn’t developed alongside the family, at least he would have something to show.

He knew full well that no good opportunity came without risk. A cold glint flashed in his eyes—there were advantages to backing a large family, but also plenty of troubles. Many people wanted to make a name for themselves, and that meant he had to pull others down to secure his own rise.

When a thousand people worked together in one yard, the output was impressive. In just a day, they produced more than 4,000 kilograms of potato flour and over 2,000 kilograms of sweet potato flour. If it hadn’t needed to dry, it could’ve been shipped out the very same day.

Many people had tasted the signature dishes made with vermicelli last year and were now eager to learn more about the ingredient. Since the court resided in the south, northerners had always admired southern culture and customs. Once word got out, people rushed to imitate it. They joked about Dong Shi imitating Pin, but it didn’t matter—the enthusiasm to follow southern trends was unstoppable.

Young Master Chu praised the vermicelli to the skies, claiming that southerners ate it with every meal. In reality, Zhang Shu’s shop was small, and many southerners had never had the chance to try it. He also subtly mentioned that the current sage enjoyed eating these noodles and had them almost every meal. However, he quickly disclaimed this when not at the dining table, as making such statements about the sage was disrespectful.

The others didn’t question him, though. They trusted him, especially since Young Master Chu had lived in the vibrant world of the south for so long, while they only knew the northern ways.

As word spread, servants began guarding the periphery of Young Master Chu’s stores, eager to grab the vermicelli as soon as it was stocked. Others followed suit, and several well-known figures from the city showed up. If they were going, how could others not join in? Even common folk, who had never tasted it, were eager to try. They couldn’t afford to buy more, but they at least had to taste it; otherwise, they would be embarrassed when others discussed it.

Under everyone’s eager anticipation, Young Master Chu’s stores began stocking up. Before the vermicelli hit the shelves, he posted the recipes of various dishes made with it outside his shop. People would keep buying if they knew how to use it, and would likely stop coming back if they didn’t. So before the vermicelli arrived, Eighteen Ways to Eat Vermicelli was eagerly studied by everyone.

On the first day, everyone rushed to buy them. Some bought them for themselves, others bought them as gifts, and some bought them for guests. It was a fast-paced scramble where only the quick got their hands on them.

This frenzy lasted four or five days before it finally settled down into more rational shopping.

But the north was vast, and there were many towns. Young Master Chu made substantial profits by visiting each place multiple times. On the first day, he had already earned back the thousand taels he’d spent on Zhang Shu’s recipe.

That night, as Young Master Chu counted his silver, a twinge of guilt surfaced. He had heard that Zhang Shu sold the vermicelli without haggling over the price. Was he taking advantage of an honest person? If only he had sent someone more honest, it might have spared him this guilt.

Zhang Shu, however, had no idea that a mountain of gifts from the north was waiting for him.