Chapter 11: Counting Money

The three Zhao siblings cheered, surrounding their father as they walked back, their small faces filled with uncontrollable excitement.

A villager who knew about Zhao Mengcheng’s business passed by and teased, “Mengcheng, it looks like business is going well.”

Zhao Mengcheng simply smiled in response.

When they reached the door, Zhao Mengcheng stopped. “Wang Ming, wait a moment.”

As he spoke, he counted out ten copper coins. “This is the wage we agreed on.”

Wang Ming was reluctant to take it. “No, no, Brother, you already bought meat for my family. How can I take wages on top of that?”

“One thing is separate from the other. The meat was to show my gratitude to Uncle Wang and Auntie Wang, a gesture of respect from a junior. These wages are what you earned for working most of the day.”

Zhao Mengcheng pressed the coins directly into his hand. “Go back and get some rest. I plan to grind even more tofu to sell starting tomorrow, so you’ll have your hands full again tonight. If you keep acting like this, I won’t dare ask for your help anymore.”

Only then did Wang Ming feel comfortable enough to accept the money.

After closing the door, Zhao Mengcheng poured all the copper coins he had received today onto the table right in front of the children.

With a loud clatter, the copper coins covered half the table. The three children stared with wide, surprised eyes.

“So many! Dad, did you really earn all of this today?” Zhao Chun asked in disbelief. He usually worked all day for someone else just to earn two liters of beans, yet his father had gone out for only half a day and earned this much.

Zhao Mengcheng laughed. “Of course. Come, help me count how much there is. I haven’t counted it yet either.”

It was for this very effect that Zhao Mengcheng hadn’t exchanged the copper coins for silver. Silver was certainly valuable, but it lacked the visual impact of a whole bag of copper coins.

The three children immediately crowded around the table and began counting.

“Dad, you’ve worked hard, go and rest for a bit. Leave this to me,” Zhao Chun promised, patting his chest.

Zhao Mao even brought out a bowl of tea. It seemed the child had prepared it early, as the temperature was just right for drinking.

Moving a stool to the porch, Zhao Mengcheng watched the children work with a beaming smile.

At this moment, the differences between the three children became apparent. Zhao Chun was impatient and had a poor memory. As he counted, he would forget the number and have to start all over again, making himself sweat with frustration.

Zhao Mao was actually quite good at math, but every time he finished counting a hundred coins, he had to double-check them three times for fear of making a mistake. His pace was very slow.

Zhao Xin could only count to ten. Once she went past ten, she started guessing at random, counting in a complete muddle.

After waiting for a while, Zhao Mengcheng asked with a smile, “Are you finished counting?”

Zhao Chun and Zhao Xin were both stumped and lowered their heads in embarrassment.

Zhao Mao lifted his chin. “Dad, there are two hundred and fifty-five Wen in total.”

“Wow, that’s so much money!” Zhao Chun exclaimed, his mouth hanging open.

Since it was the first day of selling tofu, Zhao Mengcheng had been afraid of making too much and wasting it. He had only soaked fifty jin of beans last night, which resulted in a bit over a hundred jin of tofu.

Including the small extra bits given away and the general loss, and calculating at two Wen per jin of tofu, the total earned should have been around two hundred Wen. He had also spent some of it.

The numbers matched up, and it was even a bit more than he had estimated.

Two hundred Wen wasn’t a huge amount, but the cost of making tofu was low. A hundred jin of soybeans could produce two hundred jin of tofu. Soybeans were cheap to begin with, and the other materials required were minimal.

Zhao Mengcheng nodded with a smile. “It seems our Zhao Mao has a talent for mathematics. Once our family has more money, I will send you all to school.”

Being praised for the first time, Zhao Mao’s face turned red with excitement, and his eyes sparkled.

He added, “Then I want to be an accountant just like you, Dad.”

Zhao Mengcheng was amused. “What’s an accountant? Aim higher. Who knows, maybe one day you’ll manage the national treasury for the Emperor.”

The child only half-understood these words and tilted his head in confusion.

Zhao Mengcheng didn’t say more. He gathered up the copper coins, thought for a moment, and then gave each child one Wen. “You all helped out these past two days, so consider this your wages.”

“Dad, I don’t want it. I have food and drink, I don’t need to spend money,” Zhao Chun said.

But Zhao Mengcheng insisted, “Take it. There will be more every day from now on.”

He wanted to cultivate the children’s financial awareness early on, lest they be too restricted in their youth and unable to control their greed for money when they grew up.

After all, in the original book, the second son grew up to be a heavily corrupt official, a real Grandet¹ type who only took money in and never let it out.

Zhao Mao gripped the coin in his palm. He liked the cold feeling of the copper. “Dad, I’ll save it carefully.”

“This money is yours to keep. Do whatever you want with it, I won’t interfere,” Zhao Mengcheng noted that the second son already showed signs of being a miser at such a young age.

Zhao Chun said, “Second Brother, you save mine for me.”

Zhao Xin also raised her hand. “Second Brother, save mine too.”

Zhao Mao seriously tucked away the three copper coins and declared, “Just come to me when you need to use them.”

This scene made Zhao Mengcheng raise an eyebrow slightly.

The real highlight came after the money was counted. Zhao Mengcheng brought out the piece of pork belly. He was never stingy with his own people; the pork belly weighed a full two pounds and had cost him sixteen Wen.

“We’re eating meat today,” Zhao Mengcheng said with a smile, carrying the meat into the kitchen.

Seeing such a large piece of meat, Zhao Chun’s small brow furrowed again. He sighed softly, “Our dad can earn money, but he’s also too good at spending it. I’m really afraid he’ll spend it all.”

Zhao Mao tugged at his arm. “We have pocket money. We can save it up and bring it out to spend whenever the family runs out of money.”

Hearing this, Zhao Chun thought it was a great idea. “Right, you must make sure to save it well.”

The two brothers looked at each other, both having made up their minds.

Zhao Mengcheng knew nothing of their thoughts and was busy cutting the pork belly into blocks of equal thickness and size.

Zhao Xin stood on her tiptoes, leaning against the edge of the table to watch. Only her small head was visible, her chin propped on the tabletop, squishing her cheeks until they puffed out.

She hadn’t eaten meat in a long time and had forgotten what it tasted like. Thinking about it, the little girl couldn’t help but swallow her saliva.

Seeing his daughter’s greedy little look, Zhao Mengcheng instinctively wanted to pinch her chubby cheeks, but he barely managed to stop himself because his hands were oily.

“Wait a bit longer, it’ll be ready to eat soon.” He smiled and quickened his movements.

After a moment’s thought, he cut out the fattest parts of the pork belly separately.

“Dad, I’ll tend the fire,” Zhao Chun ran in.

“Dad, I’ll pick the vegetables,” Zhao Mao picked up the vegetable basket.

Soon, the iron pot was preheated. Zhao Mengcheng pressed the fat against it, and the fat immediately made a sizzling sound. The aroma of meat filled the air. Not only Zhao Xin, but Zhao Chun and Zhao Mao also began to salivate, and even he himself couldn’t help it.

Zhao Mengcheng poured half a bowl of water into the pot, brought it to a boil over high heat, and then let it simmer slowly over low heat.

After nearly an hour, the fat in the pot had shrunk into small pieces, turning a charred yellow color.

Zhao Mengcheng couldn’t find a slotted spoon, so he used chopsticks to pick them out and put them in a small bowl, then sprinkled a bit of salt over them.

“Everyone, come here,” he called out with a smile.

The three children stood before him in a neat row, all looking up at him.

Zhao Mengcheng picked up a piece of lard crackling², blew on it, and placed it in Zhao Chun’s mouth first.

The rendered lard cracklings were fragrant, crisp, and crunchy. Even with only a little salt for seasoning, they were incredibly delicious. Zhao Chun was so burned by the heat that he was reluctant to let go, nodding repeatedly and saying it was delicious.

Zhao Mengcheng fed Zhao Mao and Zhao Xin with equal treatment before handing the bowl to them. “You guys eat this first; the meat will take a while longer.”

“Dad, you eat too.” Zhao Chun held his hand up high; he wouldn’t leave if his dad didn’t lower his head.

Zhao Mengcheng lowered his head and ate one. It tasted good, but unfortunately, the portion was too small, not even enough to fill the gaps between his teeth.

“Tomorrow I’ll buy some white sugar. Lard cracklings sprinkled with sugar are also delicious, and we can even have sweet Tofu Pudding³.”

Zhao Chun held the bowl and looked at his younger brother, whispering, “See, our dad is too good at spending money.”

Zhao Mao touched his small pocket, feeling a heavy responsibility on his shoulders.

Zhao Mengcheng heard them and replied with a smile, “If I earn money and don’t spend it, should I just leave it at home to look at?”

Zhao Chun lowered his head in embarrassment.

Zhao Mao said, “Dad, our family still has external debts. If we eat and drink so well, people will gossip.”

“You’re right, that is indeed an issue. Tomorrow I’ll make more Tofu to sell. We’ll clear the debts first and then talk.”

Once he was debt-free and light-hearted, he could eat whatever he wanted.

After saying this, Zhao Mengcheng put all the remaining meat into the pot. Once it was stir-fried and looked about ready, he added the Tofu he had specially set aside this morning.

He had long wanted to taste braised pork stewed with Tofu.

This dish originally required Sichuan pepper, star anise, and cooking wine, but since he had nothing on hand, he only added green onion, ginger, garlic, and salt. Zhao Mengcheng poured in all the remaining soy sauce; he couldn’t even manage to caramelize any sugar for color⁴.

Even so, the three children couldn’t look away.

Zhao Chun held the small bowl of lard cracklings, giving a bite to his brother, a bite to his sister, and then a bite to his father. He watched more than he ate.

Zhao Mao ate a few bites and then refused to eat more, pushing the bowl toward his older brother.

Zhao Xin also shook her head. Only then did Zhao Chun chuckle and pour all the remaining pieces into his own mouth.

After another half hour, Zhao Mengcheng poked it with a chopstick. The firewood stove had strong heat, and the braised pork was already stewed until it was soft and tender.

“Dinner’s ready!”

Zhao Mengcheng gave a shout, and the three children set to work, one serving rice, one carrying dishes, and another setting out chopsticks.

Aside from a dish of refreshing smashed cucumbers, the table was filled with a large basin of braised pork stewed with Tofu.

Zhao Mengcheng used a spoon directly, first giving each child a full scoop of meat and Tofu. “Start eating. When you’re finished, help yourselves. I promise our family will be able to eat meat often from now on.”

“Dad, this is delicious! I’ve never eaten meat this good,” Zhao Chun said repeatedly.

Zhao Mao and Zhao Xin also chimed in with praise.

Zhao Mengcheng knew his cooking skills were only average. It was simply that the Zhao Family hadn’t eaten meat in so long that everyone, from the oldest to the youngest, was craving it.

He lowered his head and took a bite. The meat was indeed better than the vegetables. As soon as it hit his stomach, even his Mental Power became more active. It was packed with protein and calories, quickly filling the void in his body.

If he could eat meat freely, the speed of his physical recovery would double.

Having eaten and drunk his fill, Zhao Mengcheng simply found a chair and sat under the eaves, reclining lazily, not wanting to move.

Zhao Chun and the others followed suit. The father and his three children looked like they had been copy-pasted, leaning back with their limbs spread out. The front legs of their chairs tilted up and rocked back and forth as they basked in the sun under the eaves together, making even time itself feel warm and cozy.

“Mengcheng, what are you all doing?”

Uncle Wang arrived with Wang Ming and chuckled at the sight.

Zhao Mengcheng finally stood up. “We’re full and don’t want to move. Uncle, what brings you here at this time?”

“Ming said you plan to make more Tofu to sell tomorrow. I thought I might as well bring the Stone Mill over to make it more convenient for you.”

Only then did Zhao Mengcheng see that Uncle Wang had brought the Stone Mill directly on a cart behind them. No wonder both of them were dripping with sweat.

“Uncle, I couldn’t possibly.” He had been thinking that if he used it often and the Tofu business took off, he would go and have one made for himself.

But Uncle Wang said, “It’s just sitting idle at my house anyway. Use it if I tell you to, otherwise I won’t dare eat any meat you buy in the future.”

That large piece of meat from lunch had made Uncle Wang and Auntie Wang feel quite self-conscious.

Zhao Mengcheng replied, “Then I’ll accept your kindness, Uncle.”

“That’s the spirit.” Uncle Wang grinned and helped move the Stone Mill into the courtyard before heading back with Wang Ming.

Zhao Mengcheng looked at the Stone Mill in the courtyard and felt a bit worried. Grinding beans was physical labor. While Wang Ming could help now, if they wanted to increase production, even someone as capable as Wang Ming wouldn’t be able to handle it alone.

Perhaps he should go buy a donkey.

Zhao Mengcheng was making plans in his head, but to his surprise, when Wang Ming arrived in the middle of the night, Uncle Wang and Auntie Wang were right behind him.

As soon as they entered, Uncle Wang said, “Old people don’t need much sleep. I’ve come to lend you a hand.”

Auntie Wang added, “Since it sells well, let’s make more. Let’s aim for three to five hundred pounds today.”

Well, the Wang Family was more invested in the Tofu business than he was. It looked like they were ready to go all out.

Translator’s Notes