Rebirth: Not Being a Waste - Chapter 121

As Zhang Shu anticipated, the business at the Zhang family’s shop cooled down. Apart from a few regular customers and some uninformed passersby, no one else came to the shop.

Those who didn’t know about the incident asked why there were so few customers. After learning about the death that occurred there, they never returned.

After hearing the details from his second aunt, Zhang Shu decided to close the shop for a while, waiting for people to forget the incident. Although they didn’t do anything wrong, bad reputations spread faster than good ones. The fact that someone died in front of their door was enough to drive people away.

Early in the morning, the government posted notices outside the four city gates, listing the names and hometowns of those harmed by the two river bandits, so that passersby could recognize them. If anyone knew these people, they were encouraged to go home and inform their families, so the relatives wouldn’t continue to await the return of their loved ones.

Ji Yuanshan survived because he boarded Prince Cheng’s boat. Although he still had injuries, he insisted on leaving because he missed his husband and children.

The county magistrate gave him some money to return and recuperate, and anyone who came to identify the bodies received a pension.

Not long after, people arrived to identify the bodies. Government workers recovered the bodies. These river bandits followed a peculiar habit of committing crimes in the same location. Five or six bodies lay sunk in the reed marsh, nearly decomposed.

The people who came to identify the bodies were a mix of elderly grandparents, newlywed women, and innocent children. The adults wept, heartbroken, while the children, unaware of the situation, continued to play with their grasshopper toys, one even muttering, “Father, get up and make me a bug!”

The child’s innocent words deepened the adults’ sorrow, and the yamen runners nearby turned their heads, unable to bear the sight.

Prince Cheng didn’t leave yet, as two river bandits remained unaccounted for. He worried that these men were extremely vicious, having committed numerous crimes in just two months. If he didn’t stay to pressure them, the county magistrate might grow lax, and no one knew what might happen.

Martial law in the city was quickly enacted, which meant the two bandits, Wu Laoda and Zhao La’er, hadn’t left the city yet. Fortunately, Ding Si remained loyal; even under torture, he didn’t reveal the bandits’ appearance. If it had been San Cundings, the two would likely already be imprisoned.

However, this didn’t mean they could escape. The yamen runners investigated their former rental locations and nearly pieced together their appearances. They posted many wanted portraits in and around the city and announced their crimes everywhere, urging the people not to act out of pity and risk their own safety.

The two bandits were like rats crossing the street, anxious wherever they went. Eventually, they could no longer hide and took refuge in a night-soil cart, which was pushed out of the city.

Fortunately, two people always handled the night-soil cart. If it had been just one, they would have been killed. When two people suddenly jumped out of the cart, those who saw them were startled. With the recent rumors about river bandits, the pair fled, shouting as they ran toward the city gates. By the time officers and soldiers arrived, the two bandits had already disappeared without a trace.

News of the river bandits escaping the city spread quickly. Wealthy gentlemen living outside the city were alarmed. Many moved their families into the city for safety or hired protection.

The common people also formed their own patrol teams. At night, they walked through the villages with torches, guarding against possible water bandit raids.

Zhang Shu’s Shuitou Village was no exception, and the Zhang and Li families grew even stricter in their vigilance. Zhang Shu understood that the river bandits likely held a grudge against him for ruining their plans. It was probably because of this that they targeted him.

During this time, he kept two dogs at home—one in the front yard and one in the back. The other three dogs were assigned to the village patrol team. After all, dogs were more alert than people.

Wu Laoda and Zhao La’er indeed hid in the mountains near Waterhead Village. They held a deep hatred for Zhang Shu, who repeatedly foiled their plans. Wu Laoda, in particular, felt that Ding Si’s capture was a huge loss, as he could no longer find a more obedient accomplice. Zhao La’er, though ordinary in appearance, was crafty, and Wu Laoda began to grow wary of him.

…

It was now April. In the past, farm work only involved weeding and pest control, but now the nearby villages began digging for spring potatoes.

Prince Cheng was still in the area. He asked to go out on an inspection to escape the intrigue and scheming of the palace, so naturally, he wanted to stay away as long as possible.

Upon hearing that there was a large vermicelli workshop nearby, he became interested and wanted to visit. He ate vermicelli before, as it was included in the tribute offered by imperial merchants from the north the previous year. The vermicelli was smooth, chewy, and quite delicious. He was curious about how it was made.

The county magistrate knew Prince Cheng planned to visit Shuitou Village to see the vermicelli workshop, so he had no objections. He ordered more than 20 men to accompany the prince.

Prince Cheng waved his hand and told them to return. Not only did he have two experts by his side, but at least ten men guarded him secretly. He didn’t need such a large entourage.

The county magistrate felt uneasy, fearing something might happen to him, but he had no choice. Indeed, the two experts accompanying Prince Cheng could easily defeat all of his yamen runners.

He could only bow and see the prince off.

Prince Cheng was down-to-earth in his own way. He claimed that riding in a horse-drawn carriage would block the sunlight and insisted on riding in an ox cart instead. The ox cart swayed as it made its way to Shuitou Village. Prince Cheng lay on a pile of straw, crossed his legs, and chewed on a straw, looking carefree and unrestrained.

“Prince, someone is approaching,” a guard on horseback came over and whispered in Prince Cheng’s ear.

Prince Cheng turned over, sat up, and pulled the straw from his mouth, assuming a scholarly posture as though giving a lecture. The occasional passersby couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. It was the same ox cart, but when others rode in it, it seemed mundane—when the prince did, it was a different story.

A guard behind him rolled his eyes discreetly. Their prince was burdened by his reputation all his life. Even the princess didn’t know his true nature—only they, his guards, were privy to the real him.

Shuitou Village wasn’t particularly far, but after sitting in the ox cart for over two hours, Prince Cheng’s old back was nearly broken from the effort to appear imposing. Finally, they arrived.

“Go ahead, ask where the workshop owner is,” Prince Cheng shook the fan in his hand and surveyed the small village.

The guard went off and returned shortly. “Your Highness, I found out. Go down the path, and there’s a bluestone courtyard ahead. That’s where the workshop is.”

When the guard asked the villagers, one of them seemed pleased, likely thinking they were there to buy vermicelli.

Prince Cheng walked ahead and soon arrived at the bluestone courtyard. The gate was closed, but faint voices drifted from inside, suggesting most people were in the backyard.

He stepped forward and knocked on the door with the handle of his fan. The “dong dong dong” sound made the people inside perk up.

In the yard, there was only Qianjin, a dog, and two lambs. Qianjin just finished feeding the sheep, stuffing the last piece of grass into their mouths. He clapped his hands and wiped them on his little apron, imitating Grandma Zhang’s movements.

He stood up, walking toward the door. The dog, ever watchful, trotted in front of him, as if guarding him from any potential threats.

Qianjin stepped on a bench by the door, slid the bolt open, and revealed a round, cherubic face. “Who are you looking for?” he asked.

Prince Cheng waited outside for a moment, then heard the creak of the door opening. First, a black dog leapt out, eyeing him warily, and then a cute little face appeared, his hair styled in a bun, and with a soft voice, he asked, “Who are you looking for?”

“Excuse me, young lad, is your family running a vermicelli business?” Prince Cheng asked with a smile, his tone warm and gentle, resembling a strange uncle coaxing a child.

“Yes!” Qianjin’s eyes lit up. He was proud of his family’s vermicelli business. Whenever his father and Aba discussed it, he always sat next to them, listening intently.

Prince Cheng was about to ask more, but a voice called from inside, “Qianjin, who is it?”

“Grandma!” Qianjin turned excitedly toward the voice. “It’s a handsome uncle! He’s here to buy vermicelli!”

Buy vermicelli? That meant money, which could be saved!

Qianjin wasn’t one to spend money carelessly. His grandparents sometimes gave him copper coins, but he never spent them on candy, small windmills, or other toys. Instead, he had a bamboo tube that his grandfather dragged home for him. His uncle carved a little piglet out of it—though it wasn’t perfect, Qianjin loved it dearly.

His father made a small hole in the tube so he could put coins inside, and what he loved most was shaking the bamboo tube and listening to the jingling sound of the coins.

Prince Cheng raised an eyebrow. This child was good at selling—anyone who heard that would likely buy a pound or two.

Locals didn’t charge for food; instead, they traded it for spring potatoes. They didn’t eat vermicelli often, only making it during festivals or when guests came over. The best part was that it could be stored for a long time.

Grandma Zhang led Qianjin inside and opened the door. When she saw the guest, she was taken aback. This young man was… strikingly imposing! She looked outside and saw four or five people waiting by the cart—clearly, they were rich. She wondered why they came in an ox cart.

Since the Zhang family owned a horse-drawn carriage, they no longer used ox carts.

“Good elder, is the boss around? I have some business to discuss,” Prince Cheng said politely, bowing slightly and appearing very humble.

Grandma Zhang quickly invited him in and asked the dog, which had been circling around, to go get Zhang Shu from the backyard. She then went to the kitchen to bring a pot of tea and two plates of snacks, placing them on a stone table.

Just as she was about to invite him to sit, Zhang Erbao in the room suddenly started crying. He was a bit fussy last night, and Li Mujin didn’t sleep well. Grandma Zhang hurried in to comfort him and woke Li Mujin to help.

Qianjin, watching his grandmother rush inside, looked around and saw only two lambs in the yard. He figured it was up to him to entertain the guest, so he grabbed a small stool, placed it behind Prince Cheng, and motioned for him to sit.

Poor Prince Cheng—a tall man—awkwardly sat on a small stool with his legs crossed, facing Qianjin, who sat on a little rocking horse.

“Uncle, the vermicelli is really tasty!” Qianjin enthusiastically recommended his family’s product.

“Then this uncle should buy more right?” Prince Cheng smiled.

“Yes!” Qianjin nodded repeatedly, his smile bright as a sunflower.

Prince Cheng looked at the innocent smile on the child’s face and thought of his own mischievous son, who always liked to cause trouble. He heard that last time, his son took the Empress Dowager’s glass mirror, treating it like a monster-hunting mirror and playing around with it. As a result, the royal mirror, which was capable of revealing even the slightest shadow, shattered. His son was locked up in the palace and made to copy the palace rules several times as punishment.

“Are you Qianjin?” he asked, recalling how the elderly woman addressed him.

“Yes, my little brother is called Erbao!” Qianjin couldn’t help but brag about his brother, who was far more obedient than the twins!

“What are your parents’ names?”

“My father is Zhang Shu! I have a father, but no mother. My Aba is called Jin’er, and my brother is Erbao,” he added proudly.

“Oh, where is Erbao?”

“Sleeping, sleeping for a long time,” Qianjin sighed. Though his brother was obedient, he always slept and didn’t play with him. His Aba didn’t come out either, staying in the room with his brother.

When Zhang Shu finally emerged, he found Qianjin animatedly explaining how impressive his brother was and how many times a day he drank milk.