Rebirth: Not Being a Waste - Chapter 9

The steamed bun his grandmother gives him is dense and chewy, having been kneaded for a long time. It is filling, so after eating one, Zhang Shu puts the rest away for later. He then takes out a bamboo tube and collects some water from a small spring trickling down the mountain wall.

The spring water is sweet and refreshingly cold. As he drinks, a chill runs through his body, making him feel as if he has been drenched in cool water—an incredible relief in the scorching summer heat.

“Hey, Laiwang, why’d you bring this kid along?”

“I had no choice. His grandmother went to my mother’s house and begged me to take him.”

After eating and resting, everyone sets off again. Their pace slows compared to when they first depart, and by the time they reach the county, it is already noon.

The entrance to the county town is bustling with activity. Many villagers who come for the morning market are now rushing home. Most can’t afford to eat in town, so the streets empty as people return home to cook their own meals. Only a few small taverns remain lively, their waiters tirelessly calling out to attract customers.

But with the sun blazing and the stone-paved roads radiating heat, few are willing to sit down for a steaming meal.

Zhang Shu walks through the town, his eyes constantly wandering. Truth be told, in his previous life, he rarely explored beyond his village. Shopping is considered women’s work, and he has never done day labor. He has only been to the county a handful of times, so everything feels new to him.

Fortunately, he is still young, so his curiosity doesn’t seem out of place. If he were an old man gawking at everything, people would think he had never seen the world before.

Laiwang leads the group through winding streets and alleys until they reach a river. It is about two or three feet wide and called Qingliang River. The water is crystal clear, flowing steadily downstream day and night.

On the Dragon Boat Festival, dragon boat races are held on a larger river outside the city, but during the Qixi Festival, people release lanterns into this one.

A stone bridge stretches across the river, built from sturdy bluestone slabs. It is said to have been constructed over two hundred years ago. Generations have come and gone, but the bridge remains, silently witnessing the county’s rise and fall.

Trees line the riverbanks, providing shade. Villagers from different villages gather beneath them in small groups, some chatting, others napping. This particular area has been assigned to their village, and outsiders typically don’t sit there.

Zhang Shu finds the process rather convenient. He assumes finding short-term work would be like peddling goods—going door to door, asking if anyone needs laborers. He doesn’t expect it to be this organized.

Seeing that most spots are already occupied, he walks to the last tree and sits beneath it. The tree is a camphor, its broad canopy casting a dense shade over his corner.

Camphor… Zhang Shu.

He once complains to his grandfather about his name, but his grandfather simply smiles and says, “They’re all trees, aren’t they? You’re the eldest in the family. You must stand strong and shelter your younger cousins, just like the trees in our home.”

His second cousin, Zhang Huai, is named after the locust tree. His third cousin, Zhang Yang, after the poplar. His only female cousin, Zhang Rong, after the hibiscus—another tree.

After hearing that, Zhang Shu feels a little better.

“A real man should be like a tree,” his grandfather says. “Standing tall, providing shelter to those around him.”

But in his past life, Zhang Shu is nothing more than a crooked tree. He hasn’t shielded anyone. He hasn’t even protected himself.

Leaning back against the tree trunk, he places his cloth bag under his head and dozes off.

Zhang Shu isn’t a bad-looking man. He is tall and square-faced, not exactly handsome, but rugged and masculine. If it weren’t for his years of hunched posture and timid demeanor, the village girls might not have overlooked him.

Since his rebirth, he consciously works on straightening his back. He no longer averts his gaze when speaking to people. He no longer lowers his head like a shy child.

The villagers can’t quite pinpoint the change in him, but they find him easier to look at now.

Otherwise, they might have pushed him aside during the journey.

As he sleeps, Zhang Shu has a strange dream—he is floating aimlessly in the sky. Suddenly, someone kicks him, sending him plummeting down.

Startled awake, he finds that someone really is nudging him with their foot.

It is a middle-aged man, dressed in fine embroidered silk, a jade ring on his finger, and a neatly trimmed mustache. He has an air of shrewdness and examines Zhang Shu as if he is inspecting livestock.

It feels like he might pull open Zhang Shu’s mouth next to check his teeth.

Zhang Shu sits on the ground, looking at the man in confusion. He has never seen him before.

His steady gaze catches Mo Ren’s attention. Many country folk grow timid and awkward when confronted by someone of status, but this young man sits there openly, neither anxious nor evasive.

Not bad.

“We’ll take him,” Mo Ren says, turning to Laiwang. “Him, you, and the others.”

A servant behind him takes note of the selections and relays the information to Laiwang.

“Got it, Steward Mo!” Laiwang beams. Normally, it is difficult to get work under Mo Ren. Perhaps it is because the stronger men from Xichang Village haven’t shown up today.

“This job is for the master’s garden renovation,” Mo Ren continues. “You’ll be carrying soil and building walls. Thirty-five coins per person per day, with three meals included. How about it?”

Laiwang naturally has no objections. The Mo family is generous—other households only pay 25 wen a day if they provide meals, and 30 wen if they don’t. No wonder people say that wealth can be seen everywhere in rich families!

Zhang Shu, however, remains indifferent. He doesn’t know much about the going rates for labor, but he remembers that when his eldest son’s family builds a house, they offer the villagers 50 wen per day, along with three meals that include generous portions of meat.

There are nine people in total who come to the county seeking work. Of them, seven are chosen, leaving two behind. One is Er’gou’s older brother, Da’gou.

(Translator’s Notes: Da’gou – Big Dog)

The other is Tian’er, a thin man with a perpetually bitter expression. He doesn’t seem too affected by the fact that Chief Steward Mo hasn’t picked him, but Da’gou is visibly upset. He is convinced that if Zhang Shu hadn’t come along, he would have been chosen instead.

Now that he has lost out on so much money for no reason, he glares at Zhang Shu with burning resentment.

Zhang Shu has no idea that he has suddenly made an enemy. He simply gathers his belongings and follows the others to the Mo Mansion.

Laiwang, as the leader, stays behind. He will head to the Mo Mansion later, once Tian’er and Da’gou are settled.

The Mo Mansion is grand, but compared to the eldest son’s house that Zhang Shu has seen in his past life, it isn’t as awe-inspiring. Because of that, he isn’t as visibly impressed as the others. This catches the attention of Chief Steward Mo, who regards him with a slightly higher opinion.

Since the mansion frequently needs temporary workers, they have designated quarters for them. Inside is a large shared bunk with straw mats laid out. Everyone is a man, so there is no sense of reservation. Sleeping together in a group is quite comfortable.

The owner of the Mo Mansion is a juren. He has opened a school in Anning County, and though the tuition is high, students still flock to study under him. After all, he is the only teacher in the surrounding counties who formally holds classes.

(Translator’s Notes: Jǔrén (举人) was a title in the Imperial Chinese examination system (科举, kējǔ) granted to those who passed the provincial-level examination (乡试, xiāngshì) during the Ming (1368–1644) and Qing (1644–1912) dynasties. It was a crucial step for scholars who aspired to become government officials or gain social prestige.)

To take the imperial examination, one needs a recommendation—either from five scholars or a single juren. Scholars are rare in these counties, and finding five at once is even harder.

Zhang Shu never dares to dream of such things for himself. His only hope is to earn enough money so that his children can study here one day, just like Zhang Ming, who has been able to read since childhood.

Thinking of them, his heart aches.

Wu Liniang has given birth to five children for him—three sons and two daughters. Everyone says he is blessed.

His eldest son is honest and hardworking, but because he was a large baby at birth, Li Niang suffered a difficult labor and has never really liked him.

His second child, a daughter, has been spoiled since childhood. At sixteen, she marries into a family in the city and rarely returns home.

His third son is lazy and always finds ways to avoid work. His mother indulges him, never scolding him no matter how idle he is. As for his father—Zhang Shu himself—he barely has the authority to say a word to him.

His fourth son is the brightest of them all, a diligent student who has passed the exam to become a scholar at a young age. He studies in the county town, and most of the family’s money has been used to support his education.

His fifth child is another daughter, the youngest of the family. Both Zhang Shu and Wu Liniang dote on her, treating her as well as their eldest grandson.

It is only upon his death that he realizes—it has never been about his eldest son being too big at birth. Wu Liniang simply dislikes him because he is Zhang Shu’s son.

This time, no matter how many children he had, he would never show favoritism again. He wouldn’t spoil any of them, nor would he neglect any. Before falling asleep, Zhang Shu silently vows to himself.

The next morning, he wakes up early. Looking around at the others who are still sound asleep, he quietly gets out of bed.

Outside the house, there is a well. Spotting a bucket nearby, he picks it up, draws some water, and washes up.

The splash of cool water against his face jolts him fully awake. He stretches his limbs and starts jogging around the house. This is something he has learned from his daughter-in-law—after recovering from a serious illness, she would have his eldest son run with her every morning, saying that it would help build strength.

After running twenty or thirty laps, a voice calls out, “Get up, eat, and get to work!”

Turning to the front of the house, Zhang Shu sees a young servant boy approaching. The boy carries a large bowl filled with steamed buns, accompanied by some pickles. Without a word, he sets the bowl on the table and leaves.

Zhang Shu swallows hard.

Yesterday, after arriving, they weren’t provided with a meal. He has only eaten the steamed buns his grandmother gave him and has been hungry ever since. But he hasn’t dared to spend the few coins he has with him.

After all that exercise, his hunger is even worse.

However, since the foreman, Laiwang, hasn’t eaten yet, Zhang Shu knows he can’t eat first.