Rebirth: Not Being a Waste - Chapter 93

Labor isn’t a quick process. Two or three hours have passed since Li Mujin first cries out in pain, yet the child still hasn’t been born.

Zhang Shu doesn’t care about lunch—nothing is more important than Li Mujin right now. But Grandma Zhang insists that even if no one else eats, Li Mujin has to. Otherwise, he won’t have the strength to give birth. So Zhang Shu has no choice but to head to the kitchen and prepare something.

While he’s in the kitchen, Li Yan and Zhou Nan arrive, followed closely by Father Li. The three of them go up the mountain earlier that day, and as soon as they hear the news, they rush over.

With Zhou Nan taking over the cooking, Zhang Shu hurries back to his spot outside the room. Zhou Nan takes a quick look around, counts the number of people, and then gets to work preparing a meal.

Li Yan’s arrival finally gives Hu Caiwang and Chu Mo someone to entertain them. Li Yan offers to take them to the county for a meal, but both decline. Chu Mo, in particular, wants to stay and watch the vermicelli-making process later, so they remain comfortably seated. After confirming multiple times that the two don’t mind staying, Li Yan leaves the main hall and goes to the kitchen to help Zhou Nan.

It’s not that he’s not worried about Li Mujin, but with Zhang Shu, Grandpa Zhang, Li Aba, Yu Xiaoliu, and others already gathered outside the room, there’s simply no space for him.

Although he’s not sure why Yu Xiaoliu is there, he’s secretly pleased. Now, alone in the kitchen with Zhou Nan, he can’t help but enjoy the moment. Since getting married, their life has been sweet, and he finally understands why Zhang Shu used to sneak over to his house late at night just to be with Jin’er for a little while. If he hadn’t already married Zhou Nan, he probably would’ve been lurking outside his house all day, too.

Inside the birthing room, Li Mujin is surrounded by people. Some wipe his sweat, some prepare supplies, and everything runs smoothly under the careful direction of the midwife.

He bites down on a piece of cloth, veins bulging on his forehead as he pushes with all his strength each time the midwife instructs. The pain is unbearable, his stomach churning violently. In that moment, he feels a surge of grievance—why does he have to endure such suffering?

Outside the room, Zhang Shu leans against the window, sweating profusely from anxiety—he’s drenched even more than Li Mujin.

“Why isn’t Mujin screaming?” he mutters. In his past life, he’s heard plenty of women giving birth, their screams echoing through the night. But Mujin barely makes a sound.

“If he wastes all her energy screaming, how will he have the strength to push?” Grandpa Zhang says matter-of-factly.

Excited by the thought of becoming a great-grandfather, he can’t help but reflect on how foolish he’s been to let his temper get the best of him recently. Why waste time being upset when he can simply enjoy life?

Seeing Zhang Shu’s nerves getting the best of him, Father Li asks, “Ah’shu, have you thought of a name for the baby? The child is about to be born—you should decide now!”

“Yes, Ah’shu. Your generation follows the ‘Mu (木)’ character, and the next generation follows ‘Jin (金)’. You should pick a good name.”

(Translator’s Notes: “Mu” (木) means “wood” or “tree.” It is one of the five elements in traditional Chinese philosophy (wood, fire, earth, metal, and water) and symbolizes growth, vitality, and stability.)

(Translator’s Notes: “Jin” (金) means “gold” or “metal.” It is one of the Five Elements in traditional Chinese philosophy (wood, fire, earth, metal, and water)

Zhang Shu nods. “Mujin and I talked about it. If it’s a boy, he’ll be called Zhang Rui. If it’s a girl, Zhang Yao.”

The name “Yue” (钥) has two pronunciations, but Zhang Shu chooses the one that sounds like “moon” (月). It has a pleasant ring to it.

(Translator’s Notes: “Yue” (钥) primarily means “key” in Chinese)

As soon as he finishes speaking, a loud wail erupts from inside the room. “Waaaaaa!” The cry is strong and clear, nothing like that of a frail premature baby.

Grandma Zhang has already prepared everything for the newborn. As the little one emerges, wrinkled and red, his tiny fists clenched, he cries with all his might.

Moments later, the midwife steps out to announce the good news. “Congratulations—it’s a healthy and beautiful baby ger!” His tone is formal, but his expression remains neutral. He’s seen too many cases where a ger’s birth isn’t always a cause for celebration in certain households.

Zhang Shu, however, can’t contain his joy. His grin stretches from ear to ear as he quickly pulls out fifty copper coins, handing them to the midwife. “Thank you for your hard work! My brother-in-law just finished cooking—please stay and have a meal before you go!”

Then, without waiting for a response, he rushes into the room.

The first thing he does is check on Li Mujin. Seeing him peacefully asleep, he bends down and kisses his forehead tenderly before tucking his blanket in place. Only then does he turn to look at his newborn ger, nestled in Grandma Zhang’s arms.

Grandma Zhang is beaming, gently cradling the baby and refusing to let go. Zhang Shu can only stand by and admire his child from a distance.

Li Aba, watching this scene, finally lets out a sigh of relief. During the pregnancy, many have guessed it would be a ger, but he’s still been worried. Although Jin’er has assured him that the Zhang family wouldn’t care about the baby’s gender, he’s heard such reassurances before—only to later see families change their attitudes once a ger is born.

But now, seeing the genuine, unrestrained joy on the Zhang family’s faces, he knows they truly love this ger son.

“Raising a child for a hundred years means worrying about them for ninety-nine,” he thinks. A father’s worries never end. But Jin’er is lucky—he’s married Zhang Shu, his childhood friend. Zhang Shu is honest, hardworking, and cherishes Jin’er deeply. With a husband like that, Li Aba has far fewer worries.

Since Li Mujin is still asleep, no one wakes him to eat. The others gather in the main hall and have their meal, which is served more than an hour later.

Zhou Nan’s cooking skills are excellent, and everyone eats happily. The Zhang family still feels a little embarrassed for neglecting their two guests, but Old Hu and Chu Mo wave it off, saying they don’t mind. Seeing the newborn baby, both give a gift of one or two taels of silver.

Ordinarily, giving silver as a gift would seem too familiar, but no one has prepared children’s toys in advance. They want to give more, but the Zhang family refuses. In the countryside, gift amounts are usually between eight and sixteen copper coins, sometimes even as little as six. One or two taels of silver is already a generous amount—there’s no need for more.

Zhang Shu coaxes Grandma Zhang into eating so he can hold the newborn in his arms. He carefully studies the baby’s tiny, delicate features, his heart full of warmth. Born at noon in autumn, this child will surely grow up without worries over food or clothing, living a prosperous life.

Once Grandma Zhang finishes her meal, Zhang Shu reluctantly returns the baby to her. She takes the child and heads to Li Mujin’s room.

Only then does Zhang Shu sit down to eat.

After dinner, he apologizes to Chu Mo and Old Hu for being unable to host them properly. Then, without delay, he takes Chu Mo to the vermicelli workshop in the backyard. Using the potatoes freshly harvested that day, he sets aside two or three pounds and makes vermicelli on the spot.

Chu Mo watches as the hard potatoes go through various processes, transforming into soft vermicelli strands hanging on bamboo poles to dry. Any doubts he has about the recipe vanish.

Moreover, Zhang Shu has unintentionally revealed another key point—vermicelli can be made not only from potatoes but also from potatoes.

Chu Mo also tries the local potatoes. Though they’re smaller than the northern variety, they have a sweet, sticky texture and are delicious. However, the starch content isn’t as high as those from the north. Northern potatoes are as large as bowls, many times bigger than the ones here.

With his goal achieved, Chu Mo sees no reason to stay longer. He and Old Hu get into their cart and leave Shuitou Village.

Zhang Shu sends them off before hurrying back to the house. By then, a large group of people has gathered outside, surrounding Grandma Zhang as they take turns admiring the baby.

Curious about the newborn, everyone tries to make him laugh. But at this stage, the baby can’t even see them clearly, let alone smile.

Inside the room, Li Mujin is resting, accompanied by Zhou Nan and Li Aba.

Li Aba is carefully feeding him chicken soup, spoonful by spoonful. When Zhang Shu enters, he gives up his seat and takes Zhou Nan outside to see the baby.

“Jin’er, you’ve worked hard,” Zhang Shu says gently.

Leaning against the soft quilt, still weak, Li Mujin manages a small smile. “It wasn’t too bad. But now I truly understand how hard it must have been for my Aba to give birth to me.”

Zhang Shu chuckles. “Then we’ll be filial to our fathers together.” He scoops up another spoonful of soup and promises, “I’ll take care of both of them with you.”

“I haven’t seen the baby yet,” Li Mujin murmurs.

“He’s a cute little ger. Grandma won’t let go of him now, but I’ll bring him to you later.”

Li Mujin smiles. “They say grandparents are especially close to their grandchildren. With two generations between them, they must be even more attached.”

Having lived with the Zhang family for some time, he already sees the elderly couple as his own grandparents. When Zhang Shu isn’t around, they treat him like their own grandchild. He has no worries about them accepting his child.

“By the way, is our ger really going to be called Yao’er?”

“Yes, we agreed on it, didn’t we? I even picked out a nickname for him—Qianjin (A Thousand Gold).”

The Zhang family has already picked out two dairy goats, preparing to bring them home once Li Mujin gives birth. Now, goat milk bubbles on a small stove.

In Grandma Zhang’s arms, little Qianjin cries loudly. Seeing him wail so pitifully, she nearly cries along with him. When people grow old, their hearts soften. She recalls how, when she has her first child, she stubbornly refuses to feed him during a moment of anger. But now, with her great-grandson, every cry tugs at her heartstrings.

Waiting for the goat milk to be ready feels endless. Then it has to cool down, making the baby cry even harder before he can finally be fed.

Grandma Zhang sighs and turns to Zhang Shu. “As a father, you need to plan ahead. He’ll need to be fed every two hours—don’t let him go hungry again.”

Zhang Shu nods. “I’ll make sure his next meal is ready in time.”

The baby is fed with a small spoon. At first, he struggles, unfamiliar with how to drink, but soon, he adapts.

A Ger giving birth is troublesome in this regard—if he had been a woman, feeding the child wouldn’t have been an issue.

Early the next morning, Zhang Shu, Grandpa Zhang, and Yu Xiaoliu begin preparing red eggs—a tradition for celebrating a birth. It’s a joyous occasion, and every household in the village will receive one.

Yu Xiaoliu goes to town the previous afternoon to purchase extra eggs. There aren’t many available in the village; wealthier households keep their eggs for personal consumption or for hosting relatives and friends rather than selling them.

Once the red eggs are boiled, they load them onto an ox cart and begin distributing them to every household. The first five go to Laiwang’s family—He Yue helps during the birth, so Zhang Shu also gives him wedding money, along with Li Aba. This is customary. Other than close family, everyone who helps receives a token of appreciation.

The villagers who receive the red eggs offer their congratulations. Some, however, think Zhang Shu is making too much of a fuss. It’s just a little ger—is all this really necessary? Still, they keep their thoughts to themselves.

Soon, it will be time to harvest potatoes. Most villagers have no work to do at the moment and have given up on planting wheat. Instead, they’re eager to find jobs in Zhang Shu’s workshop. Offending him now could mean losing the chance to sell their potatoes.

Most families plant at least three or four acres of crops, with some growing more than ten. Keeping everything for personal consumption would be impractical. If Zhang Shu doesn’t buy their potatoes, they’ll be left with nothing but an overabundance of food at home.