Rebirth: Not Being a Waste - Chapter 16

The village is preparing to sell its summer grain. Every year at this time, the village chief organizes the men to sell part of the wheat harvest to prepare for paying taxes in the fall.

In previous years, the government collects grain and cloth as taxes. Back then, the country is constantly at war, and those supplies are essential. But now, with the war won and peace restored, the government no longer wants grain and cloth. With no natural or man-made disasters in recent years, what use is an excess of these goods? As a result, for the past two or three years, taxes are paid directly in copper coins.

Zhang Shu hears the news when the village chief personally comes to their house to inform him.

Their village is fairly large, and the village chief holds considerable prestige. Grandpa Zhang and Grandma Zhang quickly take out the cakes Zhang Shu brings back two days ago, placing them on a plate, and pour water into a large bowl.

“Village chief, you didn’t have to come all this way. You could’ve just sent for us, and we would’ve come to you,” Zhang An says ingratiatingly.

The village chief waves him off. “I came to ask Zhang Shu to help collect grain from each household tomorrow. It’s a troublesome task every year. We keep records of each family’s grain production, but not everyone can read and manage the account book. Usually, my son assists me, but this year he’s studying in the county and can’t take leave. I heard from Laiwang that your Zhang Shu is excellent at math, even earning praise from the county master. So, I thought of asking him to help this time.” His tone carries a hint of pride—after all, not many from the village get the opportunity to study in the county.

“Oh, Cheng is really capable,” Zhang An says, smiling. “But our Shu? He blushes after saying just two sentences. If he goes, he might slow you down.” His words sound considerate, as though he’s worried about burdening the village chief, but he shows no hesitation in belittling his own nephew.

The village chief hesitates. Is Laiwang mistaken?

“Nonsense!” Grandma Zhang cuts in, displeased. “Shu has improved a lot recently! He’s good at counting. Village chief, his father was a peddler and taught him since childhood!” She refuses to let others look down on her grandson. Shu used to be timid, avoiding things he didn’t want to do. But now that he’s finally grown a little bolder, how could she let someone discourage him?

“Mom, don’t speak carelessly if you don’t understand. You’ll only delay the village chief’s work!” Zhang An chides.

“What did Grandma say that was nonsense?” Zhang Shu asks, stepping in from outside with a hoe in hand, just in time to hear his second uncle scolding his grandmother.

“Ah’shu, tell your uncle how good you are at counting!” Grandma Zhang says, looking at him with encouragement.

“Why are we suddenly talking about my counting skills?” Zhang Shu asks, then notices the village chief sitting in the yard.

The village chief looks at him thoughtfully before speaking. “Zhang Shu, you’re good at numbers, aren’t you? Come with me tomorrow to collect grain, and then we’ll take it to the grain station to sell.”

Zhang Shu isn’t sure where the village chief hears that from, but this is an opportunity. He’s been looking for a way to change the villagers’ perception of him. If the village chief acknowledges his skills, who else can question them?

“Alright, village chief. What time should I be there, and where do we meet?” He agrees without hesitation.

The village chief studies the young man before him. Though his face still carries traces of youth, his demeanor has grown more resolute. If he isn’t confident in his own abilities, he wouldn’t agree so readily.

Smiling, the village chief says, “Meet me at the village entrance at noon. We’ll collect the grain from each household one by one.”

“Understood, village chief. I’ll be there on time.”

“Haha, good! Selling grain is an important matter for the village. Keep a broad perspective—don’t let small things disrupt the big picture.” Though the village chief smiles, there’s a hint of coldness in his eyes.

Zhang An’s face pales. He realizes that his repeated refusals have displeased the village chief. Forcing a smile, he tries to salvage the situation. “Yes, Ah’shu, be careful. Don’t be careless and mess up the village accounts again.”

Zhang Shu catches the hidden jab in his words. “Again”? As if he is prone to making mistakes? He glances at the village chief, but the man remains expressionless, which puts him slightly at ease.

What Zhang Shu doesn’t realize is that the village chief is thinking: You can tell a mule from a horse once you take it for a walk. If Zhang Shu proves incompetent or dishonest, he won’t be asked again. But Zhang An—who always claims that he and his wife love their nephew like their own child—seems to look down on him instead.

“It’s getting late. I need to visit other households. Zhang Shu, don’t forget tomorrow,” the village chief says before leaving. He doesn’t touch the cakes, drinking only some water. Offering pastries is a mere formality—no one actually eats them.

Grandpa Zhang puffs on his water pipe, and before heading inside, he simply says, “Ah’shu, do your best tomorrow.”

At last, Zhang Shu understands whom he takes after. He and his grandfather are cut from the same cloth. But unlike him, his grandfather has Grandma Zhang by his side.

The Next Morning

Early the next day, Zhang Shu takes a bamboo basket and goes to wash his clothes. Since that one time he washes them himself, his second aunt has never helped him again.

Before, he used to wash clothes in the yard using well water. But today, he chooses not to.

A small river, about ten feet wide, runs through the village. Its water is clear, flowing over smooth stones, with hardly any aquatic plants—only a few small fish and shrimp.

Villagers love washing their clothes here. They’ve even placed flat stones along the banks, making it easier to work. Women gather here during the day to wash laundry, and at night, people sit on the stones to cool off. Since there aren’t many aquatic plants, there aren’t many mosquitoes either.

By the time Zhang Shu arrives, the place is already lively. Most of the married women are diligent, finishing their chores early before tending to their families.

He finds a stone slab and quietly begins scrubbing his clothes. His presence sends a ripple through the crowd—grown men never squat here to do laundry.

But Zhang Shu answers earnestly, “Auntie, my second aunt already finished her laundry. I couldn’t trouble her to do it twice.”

The woman perks up at his response. “Oh? Your second aunt is so diligent? Washed them and left immediately? She really is the most hardworking and filial daughter-in-law in the village!”

This is Zhou Lanying. She and Zhang Shu’s second aunt both marry into the village from the same place, and the gossipers love comparing them. Unfortunately, whether in looks or skills, Zhou Lanying always falls short of Wang Cuilan.

So when Zhou Lanying talks about her, there’s always a tinge of sarcasm—one of the reasons Zhang Shu chooses to wash near her.

“Yes, Second Aunt is very efficient. She finishes early.”

“Then why didn’t she wash yours too? Didn’t she always say she loved you like her own child? So why didn’t she wash them herself?” Zhou Lanying’s voice is loud, ensuring everyone hears.

“My second brother and the others are still sleeping, but I wake up early,” Zhang Shu says with a simple smile, playing the fool.

“Tsk, tsk, some women sure talk big but do little. I wonder how thick her skin is—” Zhou Lanying keeps ranting, but Zhang Shu is already done. He picks up his basket and leaves.

What shame is there in washing his own clothes? If anything, he wants everyone to see the truth about his “good” second aunt.

Thinking back to his past life, when he believes his second uncle and aunt treat him like their own child—what a joke.

They spoil their children, not him. Looking at it now, of course they do. After all, he isn’t really their son.