Rebirth: Not Being a Waste - Chapter 82

At night, as they lie in bed, Zhang Shu places his hand on Li Mujin’s belly, feeling the subtle movements inside. The baby is already more than four months along and moves every now and then. Each time Zhang Shu feels it, he can’t help but get excited.

Li Mujin leans against him, sharing in the feeling of impending fatherhood. The first time his belly moved when Zhang Shu was away, he is so frightened he doesn’t know what to do. It feels strange—how can something inside him move before it’s even born?

He stays up all night thinking, his mind racing through all sorts of possibilities, both good and bad. It isn’t until Grandma Zhang notices his exhaustion and asks him about it that he learns it’s called fetal movement.

Now, the baby moves even more frequently, sometimes six or seven times an hour. Li Mujin figures he must be carrying a particularly lively child.

Zhang Shu agrees. Whether it’s a boy, ger, or a girl doesn’t matter to him. As long as the child is healthy, he’ll cherish and raise them.

That night, after Li Mujin falls asleep, Zhang Shu finds his thoughts drifting back to something he saw in town earlier that day.

Tianshui Lane… Why does it feel so familiar? He’s sure he’s never been there in this life.

Then, in a flash, it comes to him.

That was in his past life.

Just as the memory surfaces, Li Mujin shifts in his sleep. Zhang Shu’s heart clenches as he suddenly remembers—Tianshui Lane is where the Wang family mansion used to be.

In his previous life, Li Mujin is the first to get married, while Zhang Shu remains alone, burdened with regret. He often wanders to the Wang family mansion, hoping to catch a glimpse of Li Mujin, but he never sees him—not even once.

So why is Zhang Huai sneaking around Tianshui Lane now? Is he still in love with Wu Liniang in this life? Does he want to see her?

Zhang Shu shakes his head. Why does he care? It has nothing to do with him. Zhang Huai can do whatever he pleases. Even if the child in Wu Liniang’s belly is Zhang Huai’s, it’s none of Zhang Shu’s concern.

It’s already late in the season to plant rice. In previous years, the process begins in early May, but now it’s nearing the end of the month. Thankfully, the rice seedlings in each household have grown well.

After finishing the work at Zhang Shu’s house, everyone quickly shifts to planting their own fields, working from sunrise to sunset. Though it’s exhausting, spirits are high.

Meanwhile, those who haven’t worked for Zhang Shu have already begun harvesting wheat. However, the more observant among them have done the math—selling wheat isn’t going to be profitable. They realize that working for Zhang Shu for just over a month has been far more rewarding.

With peace in the region and no recent natural disasters, grain prices have dropped significantly. Wheat was sown the previous October, and after months of effort, the returns are disappointingly low. Even if they earn slightly more than what Zhang Shu pays his workers, the sheer amount of labor involved makes it hardly worth it.

Many decide they won’t bother planting wheat next year. Instead, they’ll work for Zhang Shu during peak seasons and use their own land to grow rice. That way, neither their wages nor their crops will suffer.

Currently, Zhang Shu has more than 4,000 kilograms of dried vermicelli at home. He’s been planning to visit the nearby county to find buyers.

Then, in early June, while weeding in the fields, he hears someone calling his name.

“Zhang Shu! Hurry home, you have guests!”

The man shouting seems particularly excited, urging him to move quickly as if the visitor were his own relative rather than Zhang Shu’s.

Zhang Shu steps onto the ridge of the field, washes his hands and feet in a nearby stream, puts on his cloth shoes, and follows the man. “Old Zhang, who’s the guest?”

“Oh, it’s someone important! Four or five horses, a fancy carriage, and men carrying knives. They’re parked right in front of your house!”

From that description, Zhang Shu can think of only a handful of wealthy people who might visit him. Still, he can’t be sure who it is.

Home isn’t far, so Zhang Shu quickens his pace. As soon as he arrives, he spots the extravagant carriage parked outside and hears the voices inside. Instantly, he knows who has come.

“Master Nan, I wasn’t expecting you today. Forgive me for not greeting you sooner.”

Master Nan smiles. “No need for formalities. I just came on a whim. I hope I’m not intruding.”

His tone is polite, treating Zhang Shu as an equal.

At that moment, only Grandpa Zhang is in the courtyard with him. Seeing a distinguished guest, the old man is at a loss for words. Without someone to guide him, he simply sits there, unsure of what to do.

When he sees Zhang Shu return, Grandpa Zhang immediately stands up. “I’ll go to the kitchen and ask your grandmother to prepare a few more dishes. We should treat our guest properly.”

Before Zhang Shu can speak, Master Nan chuckles. “Then I won’t refuse your hospitality.”

As Grandpa Zhang disappears into the kitchen, Zhang Shu turns back to his guest. “May I ask what brings Master Nan here today?”

Master Nan smiles. “No need to be so tense. I came for business. Do you still have dried vermicelli? I’d like to buy some.”

“I have about 4,000 kilograms left. I can sell you 3,000 kilograms. How much do you need?”

“Perfect, I’ll take all 3,000 kilograms.”

Zhang Shu nods. “Understood. We’ll prepare the goods tonight, and you can pick them up tomorrow morning.”

Master Nan agrees readily. Then, after a moment’s pause, he says, “Have you considered expanding your business? Right now, demand is small, but in the future, a single workshop might not be enough to handle the demand. If you want to earn real money, you have to invest more.”

“You’re right, Master Nan,” Zhang Shu says, though he chooses his words carefully. “But I still need to save up for another two years. I’ll plan for expansion then.”

Sensing Zhang Shu’s reluctance to discuss the matter further, Master Nan tactfully shifts the conversation.

“I look forward to trying your vermicelli,” he says.

Zhang Shu nods. “I’ll have my grandmother prepare a few dishes featuring it. You should sample them.”

Master Nan’s eyes light up with interest. As they continue talking, Zhang Shu suggests that Master Nan cook some vermicelli outside his stores for potential customers to try.

“People need to know how to cook it before they’ll buy it,” Zhang Shu explains. “Otherwise, it’ll just sit on their shelves.”

Master Nan nods thoughtfully. It’s a good idea.

Young Master Nan nods. Although the Nan family’s reputation alone can ensure the vermicelli will sell, Zhang Shu’s method will help launch the business sooner. He has also heard from Old Yan that Zhang Shu’s goods are being sold to several escort agencies and transported north. Seeing the promising prospects, there’s no reason for the Nan family to miss out on such an opportunity, especially when it’s so close to home.

And just like that, the business deal is sealed.

At lunch, since there are many guests, Grandma Zhang, Li Mujin, Aunt Ma, and her sister Aunt Zhu set up an extra table in the kitchen.

After the meal, Young Master Nan prepares to leave but leaves behind a basket of large, red peaches as a gift, saying it’s a token of goodwill since he visited unannounced.

It’s said that these peaches are good for one’s health, so Li Mujin can eat some. Zhang Shu picks out seven of the largest peaches, fills a basin with water, and washes them thoroughly before rinsing them again to remove the fuzz.

He hands one to each person, but Aunt Ma and Aunt Zhu hesitate. They have peach trees growing on the mountain behind their homes, but the fruit is small and sour, so only children pick them when craving a snack. These peaches, however, are large, fragrant, and clearly valuable—likely costing several coins each. How can they accept such an expensive gift?

Without a word, Zhang Shu sets two aside in the newly built room for cooking pig feed, letting them decide whether to eat them now or take them home later.

Everyone gathers in the main room to enjoy the peaches. They are sweet with a hint of tartness and taste exceptionally good.

Grandma Zhang reminds Zhang Shu, “Be sure to bring a few to your father-in-law later.” She has a good relationship with Li Aba and treats him like a nephew, always keeping him in mind for things like this.

Zhang Shu nods. How could he forget?

Li Mujin takes a few peaches to Laiwang’s house. As soon as he steps through the door, He Yue comes over to help, then quickly calls out, “Dabao, bring a stool!” “You could’ve just kept them at home and eaten them,” He Yue chides with a smile. “Why rush over? If you needed help carrying them, you could’ve sent Dabao. He runs faster than anyone when food’s involved.”

Dabao, sitting on the stool, turns red at his Aba’s words.

Li Mujin quickly defends him, “Dabao’s not like that. He’s very thoughtful, right? Just the other day, when your family was drying beans, he brought them over to me one by one.”

Then, he hands the peaches to Dabao and tells him to take them inside, wash them, and share them with his family.

Dabao glances at his Aba for approval, then carefully takes the peaches and runs inside.

Li Mujin turns back to He Yue. “Brother Yue, can you teach me how to sew small clothes?”

His grandmother is getting old, and her eyesight isn’t very good. His Aba’s sewing needs have always been taken care of by his aunts from his maternal family, so while Li Mujin can mend clothes, making new ones is beyond him. The ones he gifted his grandparents before are all bought directly from a tailor’s shop.

“Of course. I’ll finish up here and head back with you later,” He Yue agrees. “From now on, I’ll come by every afternoon—just have everything ready.”

Now that the busy farming season is over, Laiwang is handling the fieldwork, so He Yue has fewer responsibilities. He only needs to take care of Dabao.

Li Mujin beams. “Thank you, Brother Yue! I’ve got everything ready—I just don’t know how to cut the fabric.”

The last time Zhang Shu returned, Young Master Nan gave them two bolts of fine cotton cloth. They’ve already used some to make undergarments for everyone, but there’s still enough left to make two or three sets of children’s clothes.

After tidying up the house and sweeping the floor, He Yue speaks briefly with his mother-in-law before heading out with Dabao and Li Mujin.

As soon as they arrive, Dabao runs off to play with the puppies while He Yue and Li Mujin settle by the window to start sewing.

Meanwhile, Zhang Shu, having nothing urgent to do that afternoon, is hammering away in the yard. Leftover wood from their recent house construction is piled up, and he figures he might as well build a shelter for the dogs to keep them safe from the wind and rain.

Dabao, after tiring of playing with the puppies, wanders over to watch Zhang Shu work.

Zhang Shu glances up and smiles at him, thinking, If our child turns out as cute as Dabao, I’ll be happy. He doesn’t even need to be smart.

Dabao sees him smiling and scoots closer. “Uncle Zhang, what are you making?” His voice is so soft that Zhang Shu has to listen twice to understand him.

“I’m building a house for Xiaoyi and the others,” Zhang Shu replies. The dogs are named Xiaoyi through Xiaowu.

(Translator’s Note: 1 – 一 (yī), 2 – 二 (èr), 3 – 三 (sān), 4 – 四 (sì), 5 – 五 (wǔ). Basically the puppies were name Little 1-5)

“Dogs need houses too?” Dabao asks in surprise. The idea seems ridiculous to him.

“Of course! Chickens have coops, pigs have pens, and cows have barns—so why shouldn’t dogs have a house?”

“But… but they already have a nest.” Dabao tries to argue, but his confidence wavers.

“A nest won’t keep out the rain. What if they get wet?” Zhang Shu reasons.

“…Then I guess we should build them a house.” Dabao finally gives in.

Zhang Shu chuckles at his conflicted expression. “Alright then, Dabao, help Uncle Zhang pass me the wood. Let’s build a nice, big house for Xiaoyi and the others.”

Dabao’s face lights up. “Okay! I’ll go get the wood!”

…

Watching them through the window, He Yue chuckles. “It looks like your Zhang Shu really likes children.”

Li Mujin smiles softly, his gaze fixed on them. “Yeah, even at night, he gets excited just touching my belly.”

As he watches Zhang Shu and Dabao work together, he can almost picture how Ah’shu will play with their own child in the future.