Rebirth: Not Being a Waste - Chapter 49

After a while, Zhang Shu and Li Mujin return and see Grandma Zhang scrubbing potatoes while mumbling to herself.

“Grandma, what are you mumbling about?”

“Nothing, just calculating how much firewood we have left. Cooking all these will use up a lot of it.”

“Grandma, don’t worry. This time, it won’t take much firewood. Don’t wash them yet—I’ll get some hot water so you don’t freeze your hands.”

“No need! The water from the well is still warm, so there’s no need to mix in hot water. You and Jin’er have been working hard all morning. Go rest, I can wash these myself.”

Zhang Shu and Li Mujin, of course, can’t just stand by and watch Grandma Zhang do all the work alone.

Li Mujin squats down, picks up a sweet potato, and starts scrubbing it. Meanwhile, Zhang Shu goes inside and brings out two small stools—one for Li Mujin and one for himself.

Grandma Zhang looks at the two of them and smiles. Their Ah’shu is truly thoughtful. You can’t judge a person’s character just by how much money they give you—it’s in the little things, the everyday gestures. Only a good man always thinks of you in such subtle details!

Washing six baskets of potatoes isn’t easy. By the time Grandpa Zhang returns from the village, they still aren’t finished.

“Grandpa, where have you been? You were out all afternoon.”

“This year’s corvée is coming up. The village chief called us elders to discuss it.”

In addition to mandatory taxes like the population tax and land tax, corvée labor is also required. Since the court is still in the process of rebuilding, corvée is typically assigned once a month, involving tasks like constructing river embankments, digging through mountains to pave roads, or building government structures. However, in recent years, there isn’t as much work to be done, so the frequency has been reduced to twice a year.

These two sessions involve different groups of people. If you serve in the summer, you’re exempt in the winter. Since farming is the livelihood of the people, corvée is usually scheduled during the slack seasons. After all, the land is the foundation of the court’s power.

The Zhang family hasn’t been called for the summer batch, but they can’t escape the winter one. Still, the court is relatively lenient toward common folk. The law requires each household with a male member to send one person, but those over 55 or under 16 are exempt.

When Zhang Shu is younger, his parents pass away, leaving only an elderly grandparent and a small child in the household, so they are exempt from service.

“What’s this year’s corvee task?”

“Everyone has to work on the river embankment for ten days. They say there’s been a lot of rain these past two years, and they’re worried about flooding, so they need to build the embankment higher. It’s a good thing.”

“Can the corvée be redeemed with money this year?”

“Yes, two taels of silver per person.”

Two taels of silver cover ten days, which amounts to about 150 coins per day. The court sets the price high on purpose, discouraging people from paying their way out of service. Otherwise, no one would actually go and work.

Ordinary families can only afford to redeem a day or two at most, so very few people spend two whole taels of silver just to avoid ten days of labor.

But Zhang Shu has to. He is preparing to start a business, and he can’t afford to lose ten days. Any delay could seriously impact his plans.

With Grandpa Zhang’s help, they finally finish washing the potatoes before nightfall. After bending over for so long, their backs ache, and they can barely stand up straight.

Dinner is simple that night. After eating and lying down on their soft beds, everyone lets out a satisfied sigh.

In the quiet of the night, Zhang Shu hugs Li Mujin and whispers, “If this business works out, we’ll have to hire some people to help. We can’t let you and Grandparents work this hard.”

“I’m not afraid of hard work. If you’re scared of hardship when you’re young, how will you enjoy life when you’re old? But our Grandparents really shouldn’t be working this hard. I can see that their backs are giving out.”

“Yeah, we’ll see how things go.”

…

Before anything else, the potatoes have to be cut into pieces, then ground into a paste using a stone mill. Li Mujin takes out a large wooden basin, sets a small chopping board inside, and places a few potatoes on it. Then, using two knives, he begins chopping.

It doesn’t matter if the pieces are uneven—everything will be ground down anyway.

They have a stone mill at home, but it hasn’t been used in a long time. Grandma Zhang quickly fetches several buckets of water and scrubs it clean. Once it’s ready, they place the chopped potato pieces into a bucket and feed them into the mill little by little.

Grandpa Zhang leads the family’s ox to pull the mill in circles. Ideally, donkeys are better for milling, but they don’t have donkeys here. A few years ago, some were shipped in by boat for sale, but most of them were bought by people in the county or town, particularly tofu shop owners. A donkey can save a lot of labor!

There are tools for making tofu in the village. Zhang Shu borrows some gauze and poles, then washes several large vats at home. He spreads the cloth over the poles and places them on top of the vats. After pouring the ground paste onto the cloth, he adds a bucket of water and shakes it a few times. White liquid seeps through the gauze, filtering into the vats below.

They repeat this process several times, and once the water runs clear, indicating no more starch remains, they set the used paste aside and replace it with a fresh batch.

Each person has a role, and they work together efficiently. Zhang Shu and Li Mujin occasionally switch tasks, and by the end of the day, they have washed enough starch to fill three large vats. However, the process isn’t finished yet—they have to wait for the starch to settle at the bottom and form a solid mass before carefully scooping out the excess water. Only then is the starch ready for use.

Once the starch is collected, they use a large spatula to scoop it out, then mix it with alum and hot water, stirring until it forms a slightly translucent paste. Meanwhile, a large pot is set to boil. They place a colander over the pot, pour spoonfuls of the paste through it, and watch as long strands of vermicelli slide through the holes into the boiling water. After a short time, they fish the noodles out and place them on bamboo trays to dry—thus completing the process of making vermicelli.

Potatoes are rich in starch, yielding about one pound of starch per three pounds of potatoes. That pound of starch can then produce about one pound of vermicelli.

After working for two to three days, they make a total of 26 pounds of dried vermicelli.

One pound of dried vermicelli can be used to prepare about seven or eight bowls of sour and spicy vermicelli once soaked. Zhang Shu decides to portion it into seven bowls, ensuring that an ordinary laborer can fill up on a bowl of vermicelli paired with a steamed bun. This way, they can also sell steamed buns alongside it, adding another source of income.

As for the seasonings, they crush peanuts and stir-fry them with chili until fragrant. Then, they chop some pickled cabbage and set it aside. Each bowl has two or three slices of Chinese cabbage, a ladle of broth, and a sprinkle of chopped green onions or cilantro to finish.

The soup is made from broken bones, costing around six or seven coins per batch.

In the end, the cost of a bowl of sour and spicy vermicelli comes to about one and a half coins. Zhang Shu decides to sell it for four coins per bowl—one coin more than a bowl of noodles—but he is confident people will still buy it.

After finalizing the calculations, Zhang Shu and Li Mujin set out early the next morning. They agree with the elders that if sales go well, they will gather more potatoes for vermicelli production and hire two helpers to wash and chop them. Eventually, they plan to rent a place near the county town to avoid the hassle of traveling back and forth.

At dawn, they reach the county town, having left even earlier than before since the river laborers eat their meals early.

Once inside the county town, they head straight for the river outside the city. The area is already bustling with people—some carrying baskets, others pushing wooden carts. Some are dressed in fine clothes, while others wear simple, tattered garments.

Most of the men in cotton shirts are merchants who have disembarked to find food. Those in coarse blue tunics are typically servants of wealthy households, while the laborers, clad in patched linen shirts, are the ones working on the riverbank. Wealthy gentlemen in silk and satin rarely disembark—they have their servants fetch meals for them or even bring their own cooks along.

Since this location is outside the city, it isn’t convenient to leave the ox with the Lin family. Instead, Zhang Shu leads it to a riverside yard where a man specializes in tending to others’ cattle and horses. This man has been in the business for over a decade and is known for his reliability. For a small fee, he provides feed and ensures the animals are well cared for.

Since Zhang Shu has no time to look after the ox himself, he pays two coins to leave it there for the day. The caretaker hands him a wooden token tied with a rope, bearing Zhang Shu’s name, ensuring no one else can claim the ox.

The riverbank is lined with breakfast vendors selling a variety of foods. Vegetarian buns go for one coin each, small bowls of salty tofu pudding cost a coin, and noodles are priced at three coins for a plain bowl or five coins with meat. Rice cakes, though not large, are packed with ingredients and sold for two coins apiece.

Every shop is bustling with business, with a mix of stalls catering to different needs.

As soon as Zhang Shu and Li Mujin set up their stall, someone approaches them, demanding five coins per day for the right to operate there. The fee ensures they won’t be harassed or driven away later.

There’s no choice but to pay—anyone wanting to sell here has to comply. Seeing the wealthier clientele frequenting the area, Zhang Shu makes a last-minute decision to raise the price of the sour and spicy vermicelli to five coins per bowl.

First, it’s a new dish. Second, with the cold weather, people are more willing to pay for a warm meal. Third, they have already spent seven coins before selling a single bowl. Pricing it too low would lead to losses, especially since labor is also a cost they haven’t even factored in yet.