Though it wasn’t a festival or holiday, one household in Qingluo Village was busily cleaning with great fervor.
Xie Yushu might have been lazy and averse to moving around, but if she had to live in a house this dirty, she’d rather exhaust herself to death than leave it uncleaned.
She tied a makeshift broom made of branches to a long pole and swept it along the walls and beams, knocking down every cobweb in her path. She then cleared the dust from the rafters, sending years of grime raining down.
In the kitchen, she found two ragged cloths. She wiped the storage cabinet and bed in the inner room, as well as the table and chairs in the main hall, three times over. The water in the basin she used to rinse the rags turned black and sticky, and she had to change it repeatedly, using up half the water vat.
Thankfully, the house was mostly empty with hardly any furniture, which saved her a lot of time. If there had been more, she’d have been exhausted just from wiping everything down. With so few pieces, the task was manageable.
She swept up the accumulated debris from the floor, then sprinkled clean water over the ground to settle the dust and freshen the air.
After finishing indoors, she went to the shed, found a rusty sickle, and began cutting down the overgrown weeds in the yard. The air was immediately filled with the earthy smell of freshly uprooted grass. She set the cut weeds aside to dry, intending to use them as kindling later—nothing wasted.
The broom scraped across the rammed-earth ground, raising thick clouds of dust. She piled the sweepings into a small, pointed mound.
In the corner of the yard lay a heap of discarded odds and ends she’d dragged out of the shed—broken remnants of wooden furniture. She dismantled them, keeping the usable wood for future repairs and stacking the rest under the eaves as firewood. Not that there was much good wood to speak of.
Finally, she flung open every door and window wide to let in fresh air and clear out the musty smell.
Xie Yushu surveyed her afternoon’s work, hands on her aching lower back, grinning from ear to ear.
Xie Yushu, you’re something else—a clean freak with a strong work ethic.
Afterward, she grabbed a handful of ash from the stove to scrub the sticky grime off her hands. But the process left her quietly despairing.
There was no proper hand soap here—just this black, messy stuff. Though it did have cleaning properties, how could a modern person like Xie Yushu ever get used to it?
She knew there was a shop in town that sold cleansing products, but the prices were far beyond what an average farming family could afford.
No more. She couldn’t go on like this. She had to make money—and lots of it—so she could live a clean, comfortable life, then buy a house in town or somewhere bigger and go back to doing nothing.
That was Xie Yushu’s simple, beautiful vision.
Even in ancient times, nothing could stop her from wanting to laze around.
Come to think of it, the number of furniture pieces in this house was shockingly low. Even the poorest farming families would usually throw together some makeshift pieces to get by, but the Zhai house had almost nothing.
A sudden flash of insight—Xie Yushu instantly retrieved a relevant memory from the original owner’s mind.
The root of all this was her dear aunt, Zhai Yan.
Zhai Yan was the elder sister of the original owner’s father, Zhai Jin, and the eldest daughter of the Zhai family. She was more ambitious than the average farmer—clever and quick to read the room—and had landed a job as a purchaser for a wealthy household in town. After marrying and starting a family, she settled in Bailian Town, the next town over from Songwan Town.
The money to buy the house, of course, had come from the Zhai family—the original owner’s maternal grandparents had helped. To raise the funds, they’d sold off most of their fertile land for Zhai Yan. Not only that, but Zhai Yan had shamelessly taken all the best, sturdiest furniture from the family home to her new house, claiming it was to save money for raising children.
She even promised the elderly Zhai parents that once she’d saved enough, she’d bring them to live in town.
Sadly, the promise never came true before they passed away.
With inheritance rights in hand, Zhai Yan quickly sold off the remaining land. After all, she already had property in town; the rural land was too much trouble to manage, and hiring extra hands would be an additional expense. She and her husband discussed it and decided to sell it all, turning it into cash for safekeeping.
In these peaceful, bountiful years, prices for grain, meat, and vegetables were stable. She didn’t need to farm to enjoy fresh produce. And with the kickbacks she secretly pocketed from her purchasing duties at the manor, her income was many times better than that of farmers scratching a living from the soil.
As for her younger brother Zhai Jin, who had lost both parents, she did take him in. The Qingluo village house sat vacant, with the keys and deed in her hands. She never considered selling it—no matter how greedy Zhai Yan was, she wouldn’t sell the family’s only home. That would invite scorn from the villagers.
But Zhai Yan didn’t treat Zhai Jin well. She didn’t keep idle mouths in her house—she had a husband and children to support and no extra money to waste on a freeloading brother. So she made him work as a kitchen helper at the manor to pay for his keep.
This went on for a few years. After coming of age, Zhai Jin quietly left Bailian Town without a word, dashing Zhai Yan’s plans to profit from arranging his marriage and collecting a bride price.
Just thinking about this aunt—who loved cheap gains and valued copper coins above all else—made Xie Yushu sick to her stomach.
The original owner, Xie Yushu, had also been sent to live with this aunt after losing both parents at age ten. Both father and daughter had endured years of grinding hardship under her roof—the two of them truly shared the same miserable fate.
After the original owner lost everything, Zhai Yan, afraid she’d come back to live with them and sponge off the family, handed her the keys and told her to go live in the countryside.
They say extreme relatives are a must in farming novels—and Xie Yushu had barely arrived before running into one.
Xie Yushu shook her head, pushing the original owner’s miserable memories of life at her aunt’s house out of her mind. She had just sat down to rest when several people appeared at the gate.
The newcomers were all stout, broad-shouldered young women with fierce expressions.
Xie Yushu wasn’t intimidated—her fists weren’t for show either. She stood up and called toward the gate, “Who are you looking for?”
From behind the two women in front stepped a taller one, apparently their leader. She said to Xie Yushu, without any pleasantries, “We’re looking for Xie Yushu. Is that you?”
Xie Yushu admitted openly, “Yes, it’s me.”
The woman nodded, seeming satisfied that Xie Yushu was cooperative. She dropped her menacing demeanor and said slowly, “Good. I’m from Zhengda Gambling House. I’m your creditor.”
Creditor?
The original owner had been dragged to the gambling house by someone called Luo Qi and lost a sum of money, but she had already sold her townhouse to repay the debt.
The money had been settled—where did this creditor come from?
Xie Yushu explained seriously, “I sold my house in town and gave the money to Luo Qi. Didn’t she pay you with it?”
The original owner had lost forty strings of cash and had only managed to scrape it together by selling the townhouse plus all the savings she’d accumulated over the years working at the ferry.
The house in Songwan Town had been bought two years earlier for thirty-five strings. She’d only lived there for two years—it was practically new, furnished and all. But to raise the money, she’d been forced to sell it off in a hurry for just twenty-five strings.
Just thinking about those forty strings made Xie Yushu’s heart ache. That money was enough to buy a small house with a yard in town.
The leader of the group glanced at Xie Yushu’s rundown shack, then back at her face, which didn’t look like she was lying. Xie Yushu truly had fine features—her sincere expression made it hard to believe she was being dishonest. The woman couldn’t help but trust her a little.
A thought struck her, and she spat in disgust, cursing, “That Luo Qi…”
Then she turned and briskly led her people away without making things difficult for Xie Yushu.
Seeing that the woman had left with her subordinates and hadn’t caused trouble, Xie Yushu figured she wasn’t a bad person—just someone looking for what she was owed.
But something didn’t add up—how did they know where she lived? No one except the Zhai family knew about this place.
What Xie Yushu didn’t know was that she had already become a topic of conversation in Qingluo Village. Anyone who asked around casually would be pointed in the right direction.
Only after the group had left the village entrance did the villagers dare to speak openly.
“Were they here to collect a debt from the Zhai daughter?”
“I heard she lost a huge sum gambling and had to sell her townhouse before coming back.”
“No wonder she’s been hiding indoors for days. So that’s what happened. If I’d done something like that, I wouldn’t have the face to show myself either.”
A few men gathered after dinner to gossip about other families, chewing over other people’s business like a post-meal snack, savoring the flavor and swallowing it down with relish.
“She lost that great job in town, owes a mountain of debt, and the Zhai family land is gone. I really don’t know how she’s going to eat or drink.”
“Maidong, why do you care so much?” One of them noticed his tone was off and turned to ask.
The man who’d been questioned fell silent.
The questioner nudged him with an elbow and probed, “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of having her marry into your family as a live-in wife for your Mi-ge’er?”
Maidong’s only son, Huang Xiaomi, had reached marriageable age. They’d asked the village matchmaker to arrange several introductions, but none had worked out. As he got older, the Huang family’s worry had them pulling their hair out.
At these words, everyone’s eyes turned to him. His comment set their own hidden thoughts stirring.
The Zhai daughter was only twenty. Though she was a bit older than most—women in ordinary families usually married at seventeen or eighteen—she had plenty of strength. And with more farmland in the village, an extra person meant more labor and more income.
Besides, aside from her aunt in town, all the other Zhai family members were dead. She had no ties in the village—she’d make a perfect live-in wife.
They’d heard her looks and height were flawless. Sure, she’d lost that enviable job in town, but who said she couldn’t find another?
And being able to do arithmetic and write was a real skill! Apart from a few young girls who’d studied, hardly anyone in the village could read, let alone write. Even their village chief only recognized a few characters here and there!
Come to think of it, why hadn’t the Zhai daughter taken the county exams? She could have become a scholar. The group started speculating wildly again.
Maidong kept quiet, planning to visit the village chief first thing tomorrow morning to discuss the Zhai daughter.
Only after dark did everyone finally head home.
Xie Yushu finished the remaining one and a half fried pancakes, washing down the coarse buns with water. She also boiled an extra egg—otherwise, she wouldn’t have been full enough to sleep.
She’d planned to scrape by frugally through these tough days, but the visit from Zhengda Gambling House had reminded her of something.
Her wages from the ferry hadn’t been collected yet—that was no small sum.
And also, that Luo Qi.
That scumbag. She’d played the original owner for a fool. First, she’d badmouthed her to some connected people at the ferry, forcing her to pack up and leave. Then she’d colluded with a few gambling den thugs to set her up. Taking advantage of the original owner’s despair after losing her livelihood, Luo Qi had lured her to the gambling house, promising easy money—a sure win.
The original owner, already timid from years of abuse at her aunt’s house, had trusted Luo Qi—her only “friend” of several years—without question.
The result was losing everything. She’d gambled away every last valuable item she owned, slunk back to the countryside in disgrace, and died alone in this house.
Xie Yushu let out a long sigh.
She’d lost count of how many times she’d sighed today.
Leave a Reply