Mr. Jing and His Little Husband

Chapter 6

Jing Yi had been calculating the purchase of land. Previously, the Jing family had ten mu of fertile land, which was enough for their consumption and even had surplus to sell. However, at that time, Jing Yi’s original body was in poor health and couldn’t eat much, and his two younger brothers were still young.

Now things were different. Jing Yi was strong and robust, and his daily labor was demanding, leaving him forever hungry. His second brother, Jing An, also had a healthy appetite. As the saying goes, “A half-sized child eats his father to death,” which perfectly described the two of them.

Therefore, Jing Yi carefully calculated that they needed to buy at least eight mu of fertile land to restore their family’s life to its previous state. This was his first step in the small plan—eight mu of fertile land.

In the Dazhong dynasty, fertile land generally ranged from ten to sixteen taels of silver.

Places like Xiwancun, despite not being close to the town or county seat, were under the jurisdiction of Qingzhou Prefecture and had direct shipping access to the capital. The common people there were not considered poor, and fertile land typically cost around twelve to thirteen taels of silver.

When the Jing family sold their five mu of fertile land, they were in desperate need of money for life-saving medicine, so they sold it at a lower price of fifty taels. It was unlikely that they could buy it back at the same price now.

So, to purchase eight mu of fertile land, they would need at least one hundred taels of silver.

However, Jing Yi wasn’t in a hurry. He had the ability, vision, knowledge, and the motivation to find ways to earn money and provide a better life for his family.

In his previous life, he was alone and busy. In this life, he had a family and wanted to enjoy life and family to the fullest. He didn’t aspire to be extremely wealthy; he just wanted to be moderately prosperous and secure.

Another month passed, entering the peak of summer in June.

During this month, Jing Yi’s family had completed most of the work in the fields. With the five mu of land gone, there was less work to be done. Jing Yi and his father didn’t overexert themselves, and with occasional help from Jing’s third uncle, they didn’t feel too tired.

The June weather was scorching, almost melting people away. Previously, it was relatively cool to stay under the shade of trees or in the main hall during the day, but now it was hot no matter where one went.

In this month, Jing Yi managed to earn about ten taels of silver in bits and pieces. For someone else to earn ten taels of silver in a month was an unimaginable achievement. However, it was still far from his goal of buying land.

As the weather got hotter, Jing Yi didn’t feel like moving. It wasn’t that he was lazy, but he couldn’t tolerate the heat. Going into the mountains during summer was extremely painful. The temperature was slightly lower, but even a slight movement would make one sweat profusely. It was also humid, and running would cause dirt to stick to the body. Especially on windless days, the thick air seemed to freeze people in place.

Jing Yi couldn’t bear it anymore and started considering other business opportunities.

In the past few days, he went to the town a few times while it was still relatively cool in the morning. He even unlocked the “harbour” as a potential location to conduct small business. He was exploring where he could make some deals and eventually set his sights on the harbour, a promising spot despite the various forces at play.

Although there were different forces in that area, Jing Yi knew that as long as he set up a stall and paid the necessary fees, no one would pay much attention to him. It was similar to having a Hai Di Lao restaurant in a shopping mall; it wouldn’t be affected by a roadside spicy skewers vendor.

“That’s enough talk. Spicy hotpot is something Jing Yi has reserved for winter. Now he wants to open a water bar, mainly targeting a patch of black plum trees in the back mountains of Xiaofengshan. They will ripen at the end of May, and it’s the perfect time to pick them.

Jing Yi previously visited the harbour and found that although the foot traffic here couldn’t compare to the market he had previously visited, it was similar to the main street.

“Okay, next time I’ll put less sugar,” his mother agreed.

Looking at the sky, Jing’s mother said, “Let’s quickly have our meal. After eating, you and your father can rest.”

After lunch, Jing’s mother urged her husband and three sons, who were in charge, to take a nap inside the house. She took advantage of the sunny weather and quickly brought out the large bamboo mats that they didn’t use at home from the firewood room. She spread out two large baskets of black plums and licorice that they had gathered on top of the mats to dry. With such strong sunlight, it would probably take three or four days to dry them.

Jing’s mother sat under the eaves of the main hall with a sewing basket, where it was cooler. She repaired the soles of shoes while keeping an eye on the black plums, occasionally turning them over to prevent birds from pecking at them.

With abundant sunshine and a slight breeze these days, after four days, this batch of black plums would be ready. Jing Yi took a trip to the town that afternoon to buy the remaining materials they needed. Everything was ready, just waiting for the right opportunity.

The next morning, everyone in the Jing family woke up early except for the two younger ones. Today, they were going to try making sour plum juice, and everyone attached great importance to it.

Jing Yi was a theorist without much practical experience, just a giant in thought.

Although Jing’s mother did most of the work in the kitchen, she had never cooked this sweet soup before. Moreover, her son said it would be their main product in the future, so she became even more cautious and prepared meticulously.

Since she wanted to taste it first, she cooked a small pot.

First, she washed the black plums, hawthorn, and licorice, then soaked them in water for about fifteen minutes. The ratio of black plums to hawthorn was 1:1, and only a small amount of licorice was needed. Then she added water to the pot and put the soaked black plums, hawthorn, and licorice in it. After boiling, she reduced the heat and simmered it for another fifteen minutes. Then she added more water and brought it to a boil again before adding rock sugar and osmanthus. Jing Yi had some control over the amount, considering it was summer and ancient people didn’t eat much sweet food. A slight sweetness was enough, and more water would reduce the sourness of the black plums and hawthorn. They didn’t need to be as refined as modern times. In the future, they could make different concentrations for high-end customers.

Finally, she boiled the mixture for about a quarter of an hour.

During the process, Jing An and Jing Shu woke up to the sweet and sour aroma, finished washing up, and helped in the yard and kitchen. They occasionally went to the stove to smell the soup and ask when they could drink it.

The whole family eagerly anticipated it, and breakfast was just a quick bite.

Finally, Jing Yi said it was ready to be taken off the stove. After pouring it out, they let it cool on the table in the main hall. There was no choice but to drink sour plum juice cold; in fact, it would be even better if it was chilled, but they didn’t have the means. Ice in the summer was a luxury that ordinary people couldn’t afford.

As for making ice, although Jing Yi knew the method, he wanted to live a few more years.

Half an hour later, the whole family finally had a taste of the sour plum juice. It was refreshing, sour, and sweet, delicious and refreshing. For people in the countryside, it was incredibly delicious, greatly enriching their taste buds and satisfying them.

The two younger ones were delighted, and the anxiety in Jing’s father and mother’s hearts also diminished by half with the sour plum juice.

In the following days, Jing’s father and Jing Yi went up the mountain twice a day to pick black plums, while Jing’s mother and Jing An and Jing Shu were responsible for drying them at home, each with their own tasks.

In just five days, they finished picking all the black plums in that small area. The firewood room and the corner of the yard were filled with baskets of dried black plums and hawthorn that Jing’s father and mother exchanged with neighboring villages. Jing Yi looked at them and thought it would be enough to sell for a whole summer.

A feeling of sourness and bitterness that he had never experienced before surged up in Jing Yi’s heart. It was such a wonderful feeling to be wholeheartedly trusted and supported by others, with gratitude and willingness to give unconditionally in return.