May 22, 2026
Chapter 95 — Dividing the Money • Another Round of Persuasion
People who were used to working with their hands could never truly sit still—even when life was good.
After lunch, Ling Chenglong went right back to his carpentry, bustling in and out as if rest itself was a waste of time. When Song Gengniu and Ling Jingpeng had nothing else to do, they would lend a hand here and there. But today, Ling Jingxuan deliberately kept Ling Jingpeng behind, and even called out to Ling Jinghan—who had been about to head to the pavilion with a book—before gathering them, along with the Zhao-Han couple, and leading everyone into his room.
The room was modeled after a modern three-bedroom layout—something that would’ve looked completely out of place in this era, if anyone here had the frame of reference to notice. It had its own sitting area and bathing space. One room served as his bedroom, another had been converted into a workspace, and the third was still empty for now.
The living room itself was sparsely decorated—just a set of solid wood chairs he’d specially commissioned from a carpenter, with a matching tea table. Every room had similar furnishings. If you ignored everything else and just looked at the setup here, it almost resembled a minimalist modern Chinese interior… just a bit too barebones.
“I called you all here to talk about the jam business.”
Ling Jingxuan took out the account book he had prepared in advance, his expression calm, his tone steady.
“This month, Xinyuan has come to collect goods three times. Once was entirely small jars—thirteen hundred in total. The other two times were large vats, sixty each time, totaling six thousand jin. Small jars sell for one tael of silver each, and the large vats go for one tael per jin. Altogether, that comes to seven thousand three hundred taels.”
He paused briefly, flipping a page with practiced ease.
“I plan to set aside the extra three hundred taels to cover expenses—like paying Old Wang for firing the ceramic vats. That fund, along with the account management going forward, will be handled by Jinghan.”
His gaze swept across the room, making sure everyone was following.
“As for the remaining seven thousand taels, I’ve divided it into ten shares. Shengrui and I will take four shares. Brother Zhao, Brother Han, Jingpeng, and Jinghan will each take one share apiece—two shares total for each pair.”
A faint pause. Then, matter-of-factly:
“If no one objects, we’ll go ahead and distribute the silver.”
Clear accounts make for lasting relationships—even among brothers. That mindset was pure modern instinct, something Ling Jingxuan couldn’t quite shake. Back then, there hadn’t been much money to divide anyway, and he hadn’t expected the business to take off like this. But now that things were stabilizing, there was no reason to keep everything in his own hands. If there was money to be made, everyone should share in it. If there were good days ahead, they’d enjoy them together.
“That won’t do!”
Han Fei rejected it without a second thought.
“You’re the one who brought in the business. You’re the one who figured out how to make the jam. We only helped out a little—how can we take this much money? No, Jingxuan, absolutely not. We’ve already benefited enough from you. We can’t take more.”
Even two shares meant fourteen hundred taels. Just thinking about holding that much silver made his scalp tingle. He hadn’t even fully processed the five hundred taels they’d earned today.
“Xiao Fei’s right.”
Zhao Dalong—usually a man of few words—actually spoke up this time.
“You’ve already helped us earn more than enough. We can’t take a share from you on top of that.”
On the other side, Ling Jingpeng frowned, clearly displeased.
“Big brother, you should just keep the money. What matters is that our family works together and lives well. Whether the silver’s divided or not—what difference does it make?”
“For once, I agree with Jingpeng.”
Ling Jinghan added, a rare firmness in his voice.
“We’re family—brothers. There’s no need to calculate things this precisely. Besides, Jingpeng and the others actually helped. I just sit around reading all day—how could I possibly take two shares?”
Everyone present voiced their opposition—everyone except Yan Shengrui, who remained silent.
Ling Jingxuan sighed inwardly, a trace of helplessness crossing his face. One by one, then. He’d have to talk them through it.
And naturally, the Zhao-Han couple would be first.
“Brother Zhao, Brother Han—I know you’re honest men. You don’t want to take what you feel isn’t yours.”
His tone softened, but his reasoning stayed firm.
“But this money does belong to you. If you hadn’t helped gather wild fruits, how could I have made this much? Just today, Shopkeeper Zhang told me they need a large batch of small jars within seven days. This batch is meant for the big boss behind Xinyuan Restaurant—he’s taking it to the capital.”
A flicker of something sharper crossed his eyes—ambition, maybe.
“If we can open up the market in the capital, we won’t just be talking about a few thousand taels anymore.”
He let that sink in before continuing.
“If we start pulling back and forth over shares now, how are we going to keep the accounts straight in the future?”
A beat.
“And I’m not shortchanging you. For one, I’m not splitting the profits from the grape wine—that was made before you started helping. And second, Shengrui and I are taking four shares—twice as much as any of you.”
He looked at them, calm but unyielding.
“Given that, do you still think you shouldn’t take this money?”
He had said before that he wouldn’t treat them unfairly—and he meant it. Not just for the jam business. Whatever ventures came next, as long as they were willing to work with him, he would follow the same standard.
Money wasn’t something one person could earn alone—not really.
And genuine loyalty like this? That was rarer than silver.
“…But still,” Han Fei hesitated, clearly torn.
“This is your business. We’re already taking too much. How about this—we just take one share?”
Han Fei glanced helplessly at Zhao Dalong, who looked just as lost, then turned back and asked hesitantly, “Would that… work?”
Even one share meant seven hundred taels. Adding the money they’d made earlier from selling tools, they’d somehow earned twelve hundred taels in a single day—for no clear reason other than following Ling Jingxuan’s lead.
Before today, they wouldn’t have even dared to dream of numbers like that.
Ling Jingxuan chuckled softly.
“…What’s the difference between two shares and one, really?”
Then his expression shifted, growing more serious.
“Brother Han, there’s something you might’ve forgotten. Do you remember what I said the first time I took the kids to the market?”
He didn’t wait long before continuing.
“Our jam business will only run until the end of September. At the beginning of that month, I plan to go to the county seat and purchase that stretch of semi-saline land from the magistrate—however much I can get.”
His tone was steady, but there was an undercurrent of urgency.
“Then, before the seawater floods back in, I’ll hire people to reclaim it.”
He looked straight at them.
“If you trust me, don’t refuse the money. When the time comes, buy land with me. I guarantee that by this time next year, you’ll earn more than this.”
He had mentioned this plan to Ling Jingpeng a few times before—though even Yan Shengrui hadn’t been told. It was already mid-July. By early September, he’d likely earn several thousand more taels.
As for the forty thousand taels from today’s wine sale—he had already decided: all of it would go into buying land.
How much per mu? That would depend entirely on how the county magistrate chose to price it.
“You can really grow crops on that kind of land?”
Back then, they’d assumed he was just talking big. But now, seeing the quiet certainty in his eyes, Han Fei couldn’t help but feel tempted.
They were farmers, after all. How could they live without land?
Before, they simply couldn’t afford it. But if crops could truly grow on semi-saline soil… even if it meant pouring every last coin into it, he’d be willing.
Who didn’t want to earn more? To be looked at differently?
He’d had enough of the days of being looked down on, cursed at, dismissed like he was worth nothing.
If possible… he wanted to give Tiewazi a better future.
“…I’m ninety percent sure,” Ling Jingxuan said calmly.
“The remaining ten percent depends on whether Heaven cooperates.”
He didn’t sugarcoat it.
“For us, this is a massive gamble. If we lose, we’ll probably lose everything we’ve saved. But if we win…”
His gaze sharpened, voice low but resolute:
“Within three years, I dare say—we’ll have a place in Cangzhou. Even in all of Da Qing.”
A brief pause.
“Well? Brother Zhao, Brother Han—want to take the gamble with me?”
Ambition was the engine that drove people forward.
If it were just him alone, Ling Jingxuan might’ve settled for this modestly comfortable life—earning a bit, getting by. But he had the little buns, his parents, his brothers… and a man of distinguished status by his side.
There would only be more and more places where money was needed.
He had to earn as much as he could.
Only by holding real wealth in his hands could he secure a voice—no matter where he stood in this world.
Everyone present—including Yan Shengrui—stared at him in stunned silence.
They had never realized… his ambition ran this deep.
Right now, forget Cangzhou—even in this tiny Ling Family Village, they barely had a foothold. Where did he get the confidence to declare that within three years, they’d stand firm in the entire Da Qing?
To say they had no doubts would be a lie.
But Zhao Dalong and Han Fei were only in their twenties—even fathers, yes, but still young men. In another world, they’d barely have finished university.
And youth?
It never lacked for hot blood.
Even if they couldn’t fully believe him, something inside them stirred—like a long-slumbering beast suddenly opening its eyes.
“…Alright.”
Han Fei and Zhao Dalong exchanged a glance, then nodded at the same time.
“We’ll take the money.”
“Jingxuan, we believe you. As long as you don’t mind, whatever you do from now on—we’re in.”
“Big brother, me too!”
Ling Jingpeng jumped in immediately, unwilling to be left out.
Leaning back in his chair, eyes half-lidded, Ling Jinghan spoke slowly,
“I won’t join in the excitement.”
“I’ll handle the accounts for you. Even after I pass the imperial exams, I’ll teach Shuisheng to take over. You won’t have to worry about a thing.”
Support from the rear mattered just as much.
Ling Jinghan had always been clear about his goal: to earn a degree and official status. Only then could their entire family truly stand tall—free from others’ scorn.
“Alright. Then let’s divide the money.”
Ling Jingxuan nodded, stood, and went into his workspace. When he returned, he held a stack of silver notes.
He distributed fourteen hundred taels to each of them.
Even Yan Shengrui got a share—though only one hundred taels.
Pocket money.
“Jinghan, Jingpeng—about how much we’ve earned…”
Ling Jingxuan’s tone shifted slightly as he addressed his two younger brothers.
“Best not tell our parents. Just give them some silver now and then for daily use. Don’t hand everything over.”
Ling Chenglong was soft-hearted, easily swayed. And their mother… straightforward to a fault.
Now that their household had grown in wealth and standing within Ling Family Village, it wouldn’t take much for certain shameless relatives to come clinging back.
And once they did, their parents would almost certainly soften.
They might not return to the old family—but helping them financially? That was very likely.
For those who treated him well, Ling Jingxuan didn’t mind giving generously—even without being asked.
But for that group from the Ling family?
Not a single coin.
“We understand.”
The two brothers weren’t fools. With just that hint, they immediately grasped his concern and nodded in unison.
“Oh, right—Brother Han,” Ling Jingxuan added, as if something had just occurred to him. “If you don’t mind the trouble, you might want to go through Broker Liu and buy more homestead land. Fence it off like we did here. As for the house, you can rebuild if you feel like it—or leave it for later.”
He paused, then emphasized the real point.
“The land is what matters. You can’t really grow grain on homestead plots, but fruit trees? More than enough. That way, next year, we won’t have to risk going into the mountains again.”
His own front yard was already filled with grapevines. With the steady watering from Crescent Moon Spring—diluted, of course—they had all taken root. Next, he planned to gradually transplant raspberries, pear trees, and mulberries from the mountain, planting them along the perimeter and in the backyard.
With daily watering from that same diluted spring water…
If things went well, they might even bear fruit next year.
“Yeah… I’ve been thinking about that too,” Han Fei nodded.
“To be honest, I’ve admired your place for a while now. But since we’re starting another batch of jam tomorrow, I figured I’d wait until we’re done with this round before dealing with it.”
For now, he only planned to buy and enclose the land. As for building a house… that could wait. At the very least, until they secured the semi-saline land.
“Heh… looks like Brother Han’s got a mind of his own,” Ling Jingxuan teased, the tension from earlier finally easing.
“Brother Zhao, you really married well.”
Zhao Dalong, never one for many words, flushed at the ears almost instantly. The two of them ended up equally flustered, faces turning red under the teasing.
Ling Jingxuan and his two brothers, along with Yan Shengrui, couldn’t help but laugh.
Who said a man marrying another man was something to be ashamed of?
If life was lived well—if there was real happiness—then what difference did it make, marrying a man or a woman?
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Translator: LazyHermitGal
Author: LazyHermitGal
A Lazy Hermit Gal wondering in the void and falling into the translation abyss.
