The next morning, Uncle Kuang drove his mule cart over just as he and Yang Ruxin had agreed: from now on, he would make trips to the town twice a month to transport goods, and he would be paid twenty copper coins for each round trip.
Uncle Kuang, of course, was willing. Previously, he earned money by doing odd hauling jobs, but since this place was close to the town, there were few who hired carts, and in the town itself, there were plenty of carts for hire, some even horse-drawn, so making money was not easy for him.
Now, with a steady income of forty copper coins a month, he had no problems getting by. The rest of the time, he could take on additional jobs. How much he made from those didn’t matter that much anymore.
Yang Ruxin had chosen him not just because Uncle Kuang was from the same village, but also because he was an honest man. Usually quiet, if someone in the village needed his help, he wouldn’t be stingy with his efforts. He had a reputation for being trustworthy.
After all, if she was going to hire a cart, why not hire his?
He was a pitiable man too. It was said that when his parents were alive, they arranged a marriage for him and he had a son. But one year, a flood took away his wife and son, leaving nothing behind. Because of that tragedy, he fell seriously ill. After recovering, he became even more reticent, sometimes not speaking for days.
More than a decade had passed since then; his parents had passed away, and he remained living alone.
When he saw Yang Ruxin coming out, Uncle Kuang gave her a smile and went to help load the jars onto the cart.
"Uncle Kuang, thank you for your hard work," Yang Ruxin said as she too jumped onto the cart.
Uncle Kuang shook his head, then spurred the mule on towards the edge of the village.
"I bet you haven’t had breakfast yet, have you?" Yang Ruxin offered him a cloth bundle, "Try some of the cakes I made."
"No," Uncle Kuang suddenly became flustered, shaking his head and waving his hands, "I’m not hungry..."
"Uncle, that’s not right of you," Yang Ruxin’s face suddenly darkened, "I’m not deducting anything from your fare. I made these especially for you to try this morning. How can you not give me any face?"
"It’s not that, I..." Uncle Kuang immediately became flustered, not often engaging in conversations and unsure how to respond.
"If it’s not that, then eat," Yang Ruxin glared at Uncle Kuang.
Even though Uncle Kuang was silent, he had actually smelled the aroma long ago. He glanced at Yang Ruxin, then at the cloth bundle, unconsciously swallowing his saliva, but his hand hesitated to reach out.
"Do you fear I poisoned the food to plot against your mule cart?" Yang Ruxin pouted.
"No, I’ll eat," Uncle Kuang hurriedly snatched the cloth bundle and opened it, biting fiercely into one of the cakes.
Yang Ruxin looked down and smiled to herself, her objective achieved.
Uncle Kuang then realized that Xinxin was goading him. The cakes in his hand were not only made with white flour, they were filled with meat too—a single bite could almost melt the tongue with its deliciousness. He felt somewhat abashed, "Xinxin, this...I’m wasting it by eating..."
"Uncle Kuang, it’s wrong of you to say that. Food is meant to be eaten. And everyone is the same, how could it be a waste if you eat?"
Uncle Kuang felt a warmth in his heart. Although the villagers were polite to him, he knew many of them looked down on him, considering him a person of ill omen. This wasn’t him being self-deprecating—he had a mule cart, so it was normal for villagers to hire him for jobs. However, for festive occasions and the like, they would rather go to the town to hire a cart and seldom sought him out. But Yang Dani didn’t disdain him...