Zhou Laodi couldn’t bear to dash his wife’s hopes, nor did he want her to harbor too many illusions, "It’s been so many years, we might not even be in Pingzhou."
To sell oneself into servitude meant life and death were in the hands of the master—no one knew what the situation would be.
Lady Zhao thought she would spend her whole life without ever leaving Zhou Family Village, but now she had the chance to go to Pingzhou. There was no hope in the past, but now that there was hope, it was worth celebrating, "I know, I know all of it."
Zhou Laodi looked at his wife’s features and grew worried again. Fortunately, he didn’t have to take part in the imperial examinations, and his wife didn’t have to entertain, so it was safe for her to remain in the inner courtyard. With this thought, the little worry in his heart disappeared.
In the morning, Zhulan felt Lady Li’s overwhelming enthusiasm; she was handed chopsticks for her meal, and it was almost like she was being spoon-fed. Zhulan, "...Lady Li, what’s gotten into you so early in the morning?"
It was somewhat terrifying how excessively attentive she was.
Ming Teng swallowed the pancake in his mouth, "Grandmother, I understand. Mother wants to be extra filial to grandfather and grandmother because she knows about the estate in Pingzhou and has mentioned she will never leave the family."
Lady Li’s thoughts were revealed by her son, but luckily she had thick enough skin to handle it.
Zhou Laoda couldn’t take it and blushed, feeling as though his younger brothers were watching him like he was being nice to their parents just for the sake of the estate!
She hoped Ming Teng wouldn’t get slapped; this child returned home only to start digging pitfalls for his parents!
Chang Lian exclaimed, "Dad, do we really have an estate in Pingzhou, for real?"
Zhou Shuren looked indifferently at Chang Lian, "What do you think, real or fake?"
Chang Lian shut his mouth; it must be true then. Gosh, he had always thought he’d need to make his own future, but now he realized their family had a strong foundation. With his father becoming a Scholar and himself becoming the son of a Scholar’s family, there were plenty of people at clan school who were keen to please him. Now with his father’s return, his status changed again; he became the son of a wealthy Scholar’s family, and his heart began to race!
Chang Zhi paid more attention to Ming Teng; the boy was too loud and raucous—Mingyun had gone too easy on his education!
Rongchuan thought to himself that it was no wonder Uncle Zhou and Aunt Zhao could afford his education; their family’s foundation was truly solid. The sense of urgency became clearer to him; how would he catch up with Uncle Zhou to give Xue Han a better living environment? He didn’t want Xue Han to be the subject of town gossip and hoped to prove with his own abilities that her marriage to him would be a happy one.
At breakfast, each family member finished their meal preoccupied with their own thoughts. Zhou Shuren was back and needed to visit the Clan Leader’s family, which was a good opportunity to walk with the kids on their way to school.
At home, Zhulan counted the household goods with Lady Zhao, wary of Lady Li; she tasked Lady Li with organizing the gifts they brought back.
Last year, the Zhou family didn’t sell much grain. Even if they ate three meals a day, there was still quite a bit left in the granary. Because the countryside was rife with mice, Zhulan didn’t want to see mouse droppings in the rice bags again. When the new grain came in last year, Zhulan bought a batch of water jars specifically for storing grain.
The Zhou family’s grain was mainly cornmeal, with one jar holding two hundred pounds. There were still three jars of cornmeal in the granary, one jar of rice, and because Zhulan liked to eat white flour, which they ate more of in winter, there was still over one hundred pounds left. There were about ten pounds or so of millet, about one pound of dates, and not much of the other miscellaneous grains.
Lady Zhao was good at accounting, "Mom, if we eat to our fill three times a day, these grains won’t last until the new crop comes in."
Zhulan had a grasp of the situation. She hadn’t anticipated the extra mouth of Rongchuan; another half-grown boy consumed not a small amount of grain in a year. Despite using the original body’s memory and adding some to each person’s consumption, her estimates were still off. She pointed to the three empty jars, "I’ll give you some Silver Coin later. Have Laodi buy grain in batches to fill our granary. Purchase three hundred pounds of cornmeal, one hundred pounds of rice, one hundred pounds of flour, and fifty pounds of millet. Don’t buy all from one shop—even if it’s further away, don’t draw attention."
She was intensely affected by the memory of how Lady Wu’s son had died; it wasn’t a natural disaster that made grain hard to buy. Without stocking the granary to the brim, the idea of rebirth for her, who cherished life, made her feel uneasy. She had decided that this year the family’s fields wouldn’t need to pay taxes. She wanted to keep all the grain and transport it in batches to the cellar in Pingzhou.
Natural disasters in ancient times were too terrifying. She didn’t want to starve; life in the cities for common people was even harder than in the countryside, and stocking up on grain was absolutely necessary.
Lady Zhao took note of the grains her mother wanted to buy, "Mom, I’ve noted them all down."
Zhulan, along with Lady Zhao, came out and called for Lady Li, "Here’s the account book for the household grain, I’m handing it over to you. Later, learn how to keep the books with Lady Zhao. You’ll be in charge of the grain supply from now on."
Lady Li felt cast aside; she thought her mother-in-law found her so annoying that she invented tasks to keep her busy. Now, not only did she have to manage the food for the whole family, but she also had to keep accounts, and her heart felt bitterly cold, "Mom, I’m not smart with numbers, I might make mistakes easily."
Zhulan spoke pensively, "Last year, you took pride in your arithmetic skills. Isn’t it a bit late now to say you can’t handle it?"
If she could turn back time, she would never have boasted; yesterday’s pride had become today’s pitfall!