Rebirth: Not Being a Waste - Chapter 92

Zhang Shu tries his best to suppress his excitement. One thousand taels?! It’s not like he’s never seen that much money before. The gold, silver, and jewelry hidden in the back mountain definitely add up to more than that.

But earning a thousand taels at once through his own ability? That’s something he can’t even imagine.

Over the past two years, he’s saved two or three hundred taels from selling vermicelli made from spring and potatoes, but after deducting expenses, the net profit is just over two hundred taels. And that’s only because Young Master Nan’s family’s fleet waived the shipping fees last time.

With his current assets, it’s difficult to expand his business. The vermicelli-making area in the backyard is small, and even with just twenty-something workers, they’re already struggling for space. There has to be room for drying the vermicelli, so adding more workers isn’t feasible.

And even if he can source more ingredients, there won’t be enough manpower to process them. If he wants to scale up, he’ll need to collect potatoes from more villages. But expecting villagers to carry just a few kilograms or dozens of kilograms to sell isn’t practical.

As he ponders how best to use the thousand taels, Chu Mo notices his furrowed brow and silence, mistakenly thinking he’s dissatisfied with the offer. Could it be that Boss Zhang thinks the amount is too low? That would mean he’s a businessman who can truly keep his composure.

“Boss Zhang, are you not satisfied with the price? If you have other thoughts, why not share them with me?”

Chu Mo has come a long way for this deal, and he’s determined to see it through. His young master has set a maximum price, and as long as it isn’t exceeded, he has room to negotiate.

From the moment he enters the yard, Chu Mo carefully observes the household’s living conditions. The setup looks no different from an ordinary farmer’s home—nothing about it suggests they’re secretly hoarding wealth. They seem to live simply. Chu Mo is confident that even if Zhang Shu tries to bargain, he won’t ask for an outrageous sum.

Zhang Shu is jolted back to reality by Chu Mo’s words and suddenly thinks of an alternative approach—dividends. He could provide them with the recipe and take a share of the profits from the vermicelli sales.

But he quickly dismisses the idea.

First, the north is vast and resource-rich, with countless places to hide. If they take the recipe and disappear, no southern official would chase them down on his behalf.

Second, even if they don’t run, they could easily underreport sales and brush him off with a measly hundred taels. There’s no way for him to travel north and verify the accounts himself.

Third, this method is too slow. By the time northern vermicelli begins flooding into the south, he might still be stuck in his tiny workshop, trying to expand bit by bit. It’s far better to take the lump sum and invest it directly.

While trust is important in business, so is caution. Zhang Shu prefers to prepare for the worst rather than let wishful thinking cloud his judgment.

That said, the fact that Young Master Chu goes to the trouble of sending him potatoes from afar proves his sincerity. Zhang Shu knows he isn’t the best at bargaining, so rather than risk alienating a valuable connection, he might as well accept the deal and leave a good impression.

“I’m very satisfied with the price. I’ll write down the recipe for you right now,” Zhang Shu says, standing up without hesitation. He’s not one to drag his feet—once he makes a decision, he acts on it. Besides, if Shopkeeper Chu tries to leave without paying, there’s no way he’ll get out of the village.

Chu Mo is momentarily speechless. He’s come prepared with countless tactics to negotiate the price down, but his opponent has no intention of haggling. The deal is sealed just like that. He feels a strange sense of loss, even wondering for a moment if the price has been too high.

Then he scoffs at himself. He’s spent too much time dealing with cunning merchants, so meeting someone straightforward like Zhang Shu makes him feel like he has nowhere to apply his usual tricks. Is he really panicking over getting a good deal? If every negotiation were this easy, he could just lie at home and collect money.

Before long, Zhang Shu returns with the recipe. The ink is still wet, proof that it’s freshly written. Of course, it’s also possible that he simply copies it from an existing version.

Chu Mo examines the recipe carefully before tucking it away. Then, he pulls out a brocade pouch from his chest and retrieves several slips of paper, handing them to Zhang Shu.

Bank notes? Zhang Shu looks at the words written on them—Tongxing Bank, Huizhou Money House, One Hundred Taels.

To be honest, Zhang Shu has never used a bank note before. To him, these thin pieces of paper don’t feel as reliable as real gold and silver. They could be lost, torn, or—who knows?—maybe even forged.

Unsure, he looks at Chu Mo and says, “Shopkeeper Chu, I’ve never handled bank notes before. Could I ask Brother Hu to verify them?”

His direct question earns Chu Mo’s approval. Many people put on sweet-talking façades while scheming in the background, but Zhang Shu is refreshingly straightforward. It’s better to lay everything out openly and settle things on the spot.

“Of course!” Chu Mo stands up and calls out, “Old Hu! Old Hu! Come over here!”

Hu Caiwang has been outside, admiring the fat black pigs as they eat. He’s thoroughly enjoying himself when he suddenly hears Chu Mo calling for him. He hurries over.

“What’s the matter? Did you finalize the deal?” Hu Caiwang asks as he steps inside, his eyes immediately landing on the bank notes on the table.

“Brother Hu, can you check if these are real? I’ve never used bank notes before.”

Hu Caiwang glances at Chu Mo and sees that he isn’t upset. He feels relieved. This little brother of his can be a bit too blunt at times. While it’s not a bad trait, it could rub the wrong person the wrong way.

Fortunately, he has a good character and meets people as kind as himself; otherwise, others would have taken advantage of him long ago. Hu Caiwang thinks while examining the bank notes.

“Don’t worry, these are all legitimate. There’s a branch of Huitong Bank right in your county, so you can withdraw and deposit as needed. I’ll take you there one day to familiarize yourself with it,” Hu Caiwang reassures him.

“Thank you, Brother Hu! Thank you, Shopkeeper Chu! Please stay for dinner. After we eat, I’ll make vermicelli for Shopkeeper Chu to see.”

Zhang Shu knows that Chu Mo also has concerns. Rather than letting him return north with lingering doubts, it’s better to reassure him here. After all, Shopkeeper Chu is just a merchant. A thousand taels isn’t a small sum—if something goes wrong, at best, he’ll lose his job; at worst, he could end up in jail.

Chu Mo is momentarily stunned before bursting into laughter. “Brother Zhang Shu is so straightforward! How could we refuse? It would be disrespectful to refuse!”

Zhang Shu grins. After making sure they’re comfortable, he takes the bank notes and goes inside to find Li Mujin.

Li Mujin is making a cloth tiger. Lately, he’s taken a liking to crafting small trinkets like these. Though they aren’t particularly well-made, everyone still encourages him.

Knowing that Zhang Shu is discussing business outside, Li Mujin looks up as he enters. “Did you finalize the deal?”

“Yes! Jin’er, do you know how much we earned this time?” Zhang Shu asks excitedly.

“Two hundred taels?” Li Mujin guesses on the higher side, thinking maybe Zhang Shu sold all the sweet potato vermicelli.

Zhang Shu shakes his head, then mysteriously takes out a few pieces of paper. “Look! These are bank notes! Each one is worth a hundred taels! There are ten in total!”

“Ten, one, one, one… one thousand taels?!” Li Mujin abruptly stands up, mouth agape, momentarily forgetting to breathe.

“Yes! It’s one thousand taels, haha!” Zhang Shu laughs heartily, his heart brimming with joy.

Li Mujin remains frozen, and Zhang Shu is a little surprised. Is he really that shocked?

Li Mujin slowly turns to Zhang Shu with a bitter expression. “I think my pants are wet…”

He… wet himself out of excitement?! Zhang Shu is baffled. What just happened? Then can he still tell his grandparents about the money?

“Why are you still standing there?! My pants are wet!”

“I—I’ll help you to the toilet right away!”

“To the bed!” Li Mujin’s voice trembles. “I—I think I’m going into labor!”

“Labor, oh—LABOR!!” Zhang Shu finally processes the words. He hastily stuffs the banknotes into his clothes, then scoops Li Mujin into his arms and carries him to the bed.

“I-I-I’ll go find the midwife! No, I’ll call Grandma! No, I—I’ll get Aba!!” Zhang Shu is in complete disarray, running in circles in panic.

Li Mujin winces as another contraction hits but still manages to chuckle. “Call Grandma first, then the midwife, and have someone fetch my Aba!” he instructs, trying his best to keep his voice steady.

“Grandma! Grandma! Come quick! Jin’er is about to give birth!!” Zhang Shu bolts outside like his pants are on fire, shouting at the top of his lungs. His voice echoes through the entire courtyard.

He Yue, who’s been working nearby, wipes his hands on his apron. “Mother, I’m going to Mujin’s house to help. Can you handle lunch today?”

“Go, go! The baby’s coming half a month early! Hurry!” Laiwang’s mother urges him on. If not for the bedridden old man at home, she would’ve gone herself.

Meanwhile, Grandma Zhang is already in the room, and Yu Xiaoliu has rushed off to fetch Li Mujin’s Aba. Grandpa Zhang, who has some experience, has already started boiling water.

Zhang Shu runs back, practically dragging the midwife behind him, as if trying to fly. The midwife, shaken and dizzy from the journey, barely holds himself together. He’s assisted in many births before, but first-time fathers are always the same—flustered and panicked.

By the time the midwife arrives, the room is already bustling with people. Grandma Zhang, He Yue, Father Li, and Aunt Ma have gathered inside. Zhang Shu tries to squeeze in, but they immediately push him out.

It’s not that they fear he’ll be afraid of seeing blood—it’s that they’re afraid he’ll cry and make things harder for Li Mujin. Grandma Zhang and Li Aba know him too well. Though Zhang Shu is a tall and sturdy man, when it comes to Li Mujin, he’s bound to be an emotional wreck. If he goes in, they’ll end up needing to take care of him instead.

Li Mujin, on the other hand, remains calm. With so many people guiding him, all he has to do is follow instructions.

Supported by the midwife and Li Aba, he moves around the room, helping the baby descend more quickly.

Outside, Zhang Shu paces anxiously, his eyes red with worry.

Grandpa Zhang arrives with a basin of hot water. He Yue takes it from him and quickly shuts the door before Zhang Shu can sneak a peek.

…

Meanwhile, in the main hall, the two forgotten guests—Hu Caiwang and Chu Mo—sit quietly, listening to the commotion.

Chu Mo shifts awkwardly in his seat. “I always feel out of place when witnessing another man’s spouse give birth…”

Hu Caiwang, on the other hand, sips his tea with perfect composure. “Relax,” he says. “My wife gave birth to four children, and I was there for every one of them. The first time, I didn’t want to go in, but she nearly put a knife to my throat and made me watch so I’d understand the suffering she endured. After that, I went in voluntarily. This isn’t something shameful or dirty,” he continues. “Women and Gers endure extreme pain to bring new life into the world. A joyous occasion built on immense suffering. There are two people I could never betray in this life—my mother, who gave birth to me, and my wife, who bore my children.”

It’s Zhang Shu’s obvious love and devotion to Li Mujin, displayed in all his little actions, that make Hu Caiwang trust him completely. In his eyes, a man who truly cherishes his spouse and family would never be a bad person.