Transmigrating to the Qi Family - Chapter 170

There is no need for further persuasion. These individuals have already decided on the tea leaves they want to purchase. After all, they come here specifically for the tea, and the prices are even more favorable than those in the southern regions. What more could they ask for? Although this tea brand is currently obscure, with proper marketing, its reputation is bound to grow—its quality speaks for itself.

Jiang Miao looks at the stack of contracts in his hands, feeling immensely pleased. Waving decisively, he drafts a menu and has someone deliver it to the kitchen. The kitchen is staffed by a few skilled older women. Their cooking isn’t particularly remarkable initially, as Jiang Miao finds it hard to enjoy his meals there at first. After providing some pointers and adding a variety of cooking ingredients, the dishes improve.

Still, even talented cooks can’t perform miracles without the right ingredients. To transform ordinary food into something extraordinary requires master-level skills, which the cooks clearly haven’t yet achieved.

While the food is being prepared, Jiang Miao notices there is still time. He decides to lead the group on a tour of the nearby tea plantation.

The tea plantation stretches out in terraced layers, with neatly planted tea bushes forming verdant green ribbons encircling the mountain. Among these lush ribbons, tea pickers with headscarves and bamboo baskets tied around their waists are scattered like stars. Using both hands in coordinated movements—reach and grab—they pluck tea leaves with astonishing speed, leaving only a blur in their wake.

The merchants, having never witnessed tea picking before, are utterly captivated, watching the workers with unwavering attention.

Seeing their interest, Jiang Miao has some bamboo baskets brought over and invites them to try picking tea leaves themselves. Later, they will process the leaves they have picked and taste their own handmade tea.

With the Grain Rain season just past and temperatures rising rapidly, the tea leaves are growing vigorously. Tea leaves harvested now generally produce lower-grade tea, but no one minds. Some fresh low-grade teas even taste better than aged mid-grade ones.

By the time the merchants return, thoroughly entertained, the village meal is ready. Unlike the extravagant feasts they are accustomed to, this meal features rustic dishes served in coarse ceramic bowls with a distinct rural charm instead of fine white porcelain.

Surrounded by the lush green environment and enticed by the aroma of delicacies sourced from the mountain, the merchants, active all afternoon, feel their appetites surge.

After washing their hands, they eagerly take their seats and enjoy the hearty meal.

Once they have eaten their fill, the merchants bring out the tea leaves they picked and begin sorting them. As amateurs, their collective effort produces just two bamboo trays of tea leaves.

After sorting, they gather around a boiler to watch the tea master skillfully roast the leaves. With practiced hands, the master kneads and stir-fries the leaves, transforming the fresh green leaves into fine, dark, and fragrant tea leaves.

Once the tea leaves cool, they are divided into more than a dozen equal portions, one for each person. Each portion likely weighs less than two taels, yet the guests hold them as if they are priceless treasures. After all, these are leaves they picked themselves—how can any other tea compare?

…

Cangzhou receives four waves of visitors in succession. Without exception, all of them sign purchase contracts with Cangzhou—what are now referred to as deeds. They buy up the entirety of Cangzhou’s tea production for the year, from premium to lower-grade varieties.

In addition to the tea, they also purchase a significant amount of Cangzhou’s specialty mountain goods, often at prices slightly higher than those offered by Fengshou Grain Storehouse. This is likely thanks to the meal they are served during their visit. After the labor and excitement of the day, the food seems far more delicious than an ordinary meal.

The payment for the mountain goods is made directly to the villagers, while the tea payment is handed over to the government.

When the official from the household department accompanies Jiang Miao to settle the silver, his mouth falls open in astonishment and remains that way for quite a while.

When Pei Che first proposes reclaiming mountain land to plant tea, offsetting labor service for last year and this year, it is met with widespread complaints. Many feel Pei Che is stirring up unnecessary trouble. Since corvée labor is redirected toward tea plantation development, tasks like dredging ditches, repairing roads, and patching city walls have to be outsourced to hired workers.

These jobs are exhausting and demanding. With low pay, no one is willing to do them, forcing officials to grit their teeth and spend a significant sum hiring laborers. The additional expenditure depletes their budgets, and after reviewing the accounts, the household department officials realize they won’t even meet this year’s tax obligations. They anticipate having to write to Chengtian Prefecture for emergency aid to ensure the smooth operation of the city and its officials.

In the prefectural city, Prefect Pei Che is the top administrator, but the household department officials still report to the magistrate. Watching the vast tea plantations that require daily expenditures for caretakers yet yield no income, anxiety grows among the officials. When news arrives that merchants are visiting, they feel slightly relieved. But no one knows the selling prices or quantities, only hoping the income will cover the additional expenses and spare them from the magistrate’s wrath.

When the household department official tallies the income and announces the figures, everyone is stunned. The profits not only offset the deficit caused by hiring laborers but also cover part of the tax obligation. Although it is only a small portion of the taxes, it is still a remarkable improvement.

No one expects the tea business to generate such substantial revenue.

The officials who have served in Cangzhou for years can’t help but feel deep regret. They have spent so many years guarding a treasure mountain without realizing it, enduring poverty and hardship in vain. If they had started the tea business earlier, they might already have been promoted to serve in wealthier regions by now.

Pei Che pays no mind to what the others are thinking, nor does he bother to address their past gossip.

After allocating the government’s portion of the earnings to the treasury, he instructs the household department officials to exchange the remaining silver notes for smaller silver and copper coins at the bank. Once the coins are exchanged, the group loads two large money chests onto a carriage and sets off leisurely for Tuyan Village.

Tuyan Village is no longer the impoverished place it used to be. The surrounding mountains aren’t particularly high, and the mountain goods produced are limited—just some common mushrooms and wild fruits. Few dare to venture into the deeper forests, leaving the entire village in poverty.

Things are different now. Since Tuyan Village is where Jiang Miao first discovers tea, several nearby mountains have been transformed into tea-planting trial sites. The lush green hills not only beautify the environment but also bring substantial benefits. Gradually, the villagers develop a fondness for tea. At the village chief’s suggestion, they even rename the village to “Tea Leaf Village.” Rumor has it that when the new name is announced, a few other village chiefs aren’t too happy—perhaps they want the name for their villages.

“These past days, everyone has worked hard. As promised, in addition to providing meals, we will also distribute wages. Now that the tea has been sold, it’s time to settle up. Please spread the word: come to Mingzheng Pavilion at noon to receive your pay,” Jiang Miao announces loudly.

The villagers are overjoyed. Though wages have been mentioned before, no one has brought it up again, so they assume it won’t be paid. While they feel a bit disappointed, they can’t really complain, considering the excellent meals provided. Their entire families have been eating well for over a month, and their health and appearance have noticeably improved. If there is no pay, they can let it slide.

Now that it is confirmed they will receive wages, the villagers happily rush home to share the news. Almost everyone in the village has been involved in the tea work in some way.

The men either climb the mountains to water the tea trees or work below to process the tea. Most of the women pick tea leaves, while older villagers help in the kitchen or gather firewood for roasting. The younger children sort impurities from the tea leaves, and the quicker ones handle packaging and sealing. In short, everyone has a role, and every task is covered.

By noon, Mingzheng Pavilion is packed. The villagers stand around chatting, their simple faces glowing with joy.

Pei Che instructs the household department officials to prepare pay slips, stamp them, and tear them in half. The villagers keep one half as a receipt, and the government retains the other for record-keeping. Though confused by this unusual procedure, the officials follow Pei Che’s orders.

The villagers, seeing such a formal setup, are momentarily unsure how to collect their wages. Fortunately, Village Chief Huang steps forward as the first to receive his pay.

“Village Chief, you’ve worked for 42 days. At a rate of 55 wen per day, your total pay comes to 2 taels, 3 qian, and 10 wen,” Zhang Quan announces. Wearing a small abacus around his neck, he quickly calculates the amount with a series of rapid clicks, delivering the result with perfect accuracy.

When Village Chief Huang hears this, his old face immediately lights up. He has no doubt about the accuracy of the amount—Zhang Quan is one of their own villagers; how could he possibly cheat them?

His grin stretches wide. To earn this much in less than a month and a half is beyond his expectations. On top of that, it’s rumored that the government plans to lease the tea plantations to the villagers in the future, ensuring a steady source of income.

As Zhang Quan calls out the amount, the household department official writes it on a slip of paper, stamps it, and tears off half to hand to Village Chief Huang, instructing him to collect his pay.

Village Chief Huang carefully holds the slip of paper and goes over to Jiang Miao, who glances at the slip before weighing out the corresponding silver. Afterward, Jiang Miao counts out ten copper coins to complete the payment.

After the village chief, the rest of the villagers from Tuyan Village line up to receive their wages. As long as they have worked, Zhang Quan has recorded it, and the payments are calculated based on the number of days worked and the agreed rate.

Tuyan Village has a small population, with about 30 households and less than 200 people. It doesn’t take long for everyone in the village to collect their wages. By the time the last villager is paid, the household department official has written so many slips that his hand is sore.

Just as he is about to set down his pen for a rest, Jiang Miao speaks up. “Sir Yan, could I trouble you to write one more for Zhang Quan?”

Zhang Quan is taken aback and quickly protests, “Sir, there’s no need for that. I haven’t done any real work—how could I accept pay?”

Jiang Miao smiles. “Why not? You’ve been responsible for keeping track of the villagers’ workdays and helping purchase supplies—both tasks have been exhausting. We’ll calculate your wages at the rate for tea roasters.”

Seeing the firm look on Jiang Miao’s face, Zhang Quan presses his lips together and reluctantly agrees. However, when Jiang Miao hands him the money, he doesn’t immediately take it. Instead, he looks at Jiang Miao with a complicated expression, as if he has something to say but doesn’t know how to start.

“What is it?” Jiang Miao asks.

After hesitating for a long moment, Zhang Quan finally summons the courage to speak. “Sir, I wanted to ask… about my father’s case…”

Last winter, when they came, it seemed like they were determined to investigate the matter thoroughly. But months have passed with no news. Having worked closely with Jiang Miao these past days, Zhang Quan feels they aren’t irresponsible officials. There has to be some hidden reason for the delay.

Jiang Miao freezes and instinctively glances at Pei Che, who nods slightly in response. Taking the cue, Jiang Miao lowers his voice as he presses the money into Zhang Quan’s hand and says, “Come see me alone in the back later.”

Zhang Quan’s eyes light up, and he quietly replies with a soft “alright.”