Chapter 59 — Life Goes On • The First Branch in Chaos
The days were calm, yet constantly in motion — the kind that slipped past before you realised it. Just this morning, the carriage from the restaurant had come to haul away the fresh fish. Not long after, Old Wang arrived in person, driving three ox carts piled high with jars and vats.
Because Ling Jingxuan’s orders were unusually large — and placed in quick succession — Old Wang had made a decisive choice. For the past two days he had suspended his stall at the market altogether, staying at the kiln overnight with his kiln workers to fire the wares personally. And now, in only two days’ time, he had already delivered half the order.
“Ling Gongzi, there are only one hundred wine jars ready. The additional two hundred you asked for later are more complicated to make — they’re not finished yet. Today I’ve brought one hundred wine jars, one hundred small pots, and fifty of the large vats you specified. Take a look — is this the shape you wanted?”
He waved for his men to halt the ox carts at the gate and lifted the oilcloth himself. Ling Jingxuan and his younger brother stepped forward, picking up one of the small jars to inspect it.
A bold character — “Ling” — occupied nearly a third of the pristine white body. At the base, in smaller script, were the words “Ling Family Fruit Jam.” The craftsmanship was simple, clean, and restrained.
The brothers exchanged a glance and nodded, satisfied.
“Yes. This is exactly the feeling I wanted. From now on, follow this standard.”
Seeing the uniform white glaze paired with the deep brown lettering, Ling Jingxuan could not help but smile. His first venture in this ancient world was gradually taking shape. Though he had only planned to operate for three months, the money he earned would become seed capital — the foundation for future enterprises and, hopefully, far greater wealth.
“As long as you’re satisfied, Young Master, that’s all that matters. I was worried I might not meet your standards.”
Sweat soaked Old Wang’s forehead as he laughed nervously. His impression of Ling Jingxuan had long since been overturned.
“Don’t keep calling me ‘Young Master,’” Ling Jingxuan said lightly. “Just call me Jingxuan. We’re country folk — there’s no need for so many formalities.”
Unlike the Ling family elders, who cared deeply about face and hierarchy, Ling Jingxuan was far more easygoing. He valued dignity too — just in his own way.
“That wouldn’t do, that wouldn’t do.” Old Wang waved his hands repeatedly. “I’m just a rough country man who understands nothing. How could I address you by name? How about this — I’ll call you Brother Ling.”
Putting aside all the rumors that once surrounded Ling Jingxuan, he was still a genuine scholar, bearing the title of tongsheng — a licentiate who had passed the preliminary examinations. In a rural place like this, a scholar was unquestionably respected. If not for what had happened five years ago… how could he have fallen to the point of being bullied by everyone?
“Alright,” Ling Jingxuan said with an easy smile. “If that makes you comfortable.”
He did not insist over such trivial matters. Turning to his brother, he added, “These jars will be put to use very soon. Take them to the back courtyard and unload everything. I’ll settle the account with Brother Wang first.”
“Alright. You all, follow me.”
Ling Jingpeng led the cart drivers toward the rear courtyard. Old Wang made to follow, but Ling Jingxuan gently stopped him.
“Let them handle it. Come inside and have a cup of tea.”
Old Wang hesitated, glancing between Ling Jingxuan and his workers before finally nodding. He was merely a small market vendor — it was difficult for him to grow accustomed to such warmth from a scholar. Not that he disliked it; rather, he felt overwhelmed by the honor. In these times, all trades were considered inferior — only scholars stood above the rest.
Once seated in the main hall, Ling Jingxuan took the initiative to address the matter of payment.
“Brother Wang, as we agreed, the wine jars are twenty-five wen each. I heard you normally charge three wen for those small pots. But since I’ve requested custom work and engraving, I can’t let you take a loss. Let’s make it five wen each. Brother Wang, don’t rush — hear me out first.”
Old Wang had already begun to protest, but Ling Jingxuan lifted a hand to stop him.
“I know you’ve barely made any profit on the wine jars — perhaps even lost money. When my orders were small before, and my means limited, that was one thing. But now I’ve signed a long-term agreement with the restaurant in town, and they’ve paid a considerable deposit. If you’re willing, we’ll have many opportunities to work together in the future. I can’t keep taking advantage of you.”
He smiled gently.
“So it’s settled. Five wen per small jar. As for the large vats — we’ll go with your original price: thirty wen each.”
This was not generosity on impulse; it was a calculated decision. He would need many custom items in the future, and Old Wang was an honest man — someone worth partnering with long term.
“Well, since you’ve put it that way, I’d be foolish to refuse.” Old Wang chuckled awkwardly. “Alright, we’ll do as you say. But let’s agree — only the small jars increase in price. Everything else stays at the original rate.”
In this world of clay kilns and ox carts, of scholars and merchants standing uneasily side by side, Ling Jingxuan found himself building something new — not just a business, but a place of his own in a time that was not meant to be his.
After listening to Ling Jingxuan’s long explanation, the last of Old Wang’s worries dissolved. He agreed without further hesitation, his approval of the young man deepening. At the same time, he could not help but feel a trace of regret on behalf of the Ling family. What a fine child — and yet they had cast him aside. If his own son were half so capable, then even if the boy had borne children as a man, or become pregnant before marriage, even if he had committed crimes of the worst sort, he would still stand beside him and face it together.
“Heh… very well, then let’s settle this account. One hundred wine jars come to two and a half taels of silver. The small jars total five hundred wen. The large vats are one thousand five hundred wen. Altogether, that makes four and a half taels. Is that correct?”
This was Ling Jingxuan’s way. If someone treated him with sincerity, he returned it in kind. But if anyone dared to trample over him, they would face retaliation a thousandfold. He was no saintly martyr who offered the other cheek after being struck. Anyone who offended him would not be easily forgiven — not even blood kin.
“Correct, correct. You’re a scholar, Brother Ling — how could your arithmetic be wrong?”
This time Old Wang did not refuse. He had hired several temporary hands to meet the order; wages had to be paid.
Ling Jingxuan smiled faintly. “Scholars aren’t sages. We make mistakes like anyone else.”
As he spoke, he drew out the prepared silver ingots and pushed them across the table. Clear accounts made for lasting partnerships. He was not in the habit of owing debts or delaying payment.
“Haha… many thanks for looking after my business, Brother Ling. I won’t stand on ceremony.”
Beaming, Old Wang tucked the silver away, offering polite words even as he did. Ling Jingxuan merely smiled and took a slow sip of tea.
By the time Ling Jingpeng and the others finished unloading the goods, nearly half an hour had passed. After seeing Old Wang and his men off, Ling Jingxuan had intended to make a trip to the Zhao household himself. But the two little buns insisted on going in his stead. Unable to withstand their earnest, bright-eyed pleading, he relented in the end.
Before they left, however, he handed each of them a small white cloth pouch.
“Keep this on you. If you run into bad people, don’t hesitate — just throw it on them.”
He had stayed up late the night before, oil lamp burning low, stitching the pouches himself. It was his first time ever holding an embroidery needle; not as difficult as he had imagined, though the stitches were far from elegant. Inside was a powder he had concocted personally — the same toxin he had once used on Third Master Ling. For the sake of his children’s safety, he could not afford to worry about anyone else’s. So long as others did not provoke them, he trusted his sensible little ones would not misuse it.
“Mm. Then we’re off, Daddy.”
They asked no questions. Under Ling Wen’s lead, the two boys dashed out one after the other. Watching their retreating backs, Ling Jingxuan shook his head with a soft laugh. Children, after all.
“Brother, are we heading into the mountains today?”
Now that the jars had arrived, it was time to truly begin, wasn’t it?
“Yes. We’ll go once Brother Zhao and the others arrive. I promised Shopkeeper Zhang one thousand jin of fruit jam — we need to get it done quickly.”
Ling Jingxuan sat back down with his tea, speaking casually, though his thoughts were already turning elsewhere. It had been two days. It should be about time, shouldn’t it?
“By the way, Brother, can you teach me how to tell mushrooms apart?” Ling Jingpeng asked eagerly. He had mastered the jam-making process more or less. If mushrooms could also be sold for silver, he wanted to help shoulder some of the burden.
Ling Jingxuan raised a brow. “You want to learn? Of course. Though—”
Before he could finish, a voice called from outside.
“Jingxuan! Why didn’t you lock the gate? I just saw Xiao Wen and the others run off again — said they were going to the Zhao house. How can you still be so at ease? What if something happens again?”
Ling Jingxuan had not even finished speaking when Ling Wang-shi’s booming voice rang out from outside. Moments later, dressed in coarse linen, she strode in with her usual unrestrained gait.
The brothers exchanged a glance and both rose to greet her.
“Mother, don’t worry. They’ll be fine. You, on the other hand — you’re carrying a child. How can you still walk around so briskly? What if you startle my little sister?”
“Exactly,” Ling Jingpeng chimed in from the other side. “We’re all waiting for our little sister to arrive.”
One on the left, one on the right — the brothers played along so smoothly that Ling Wang-shi’s face flushed red.
“And who told you it’s a girl? This isn’t my first pregnancy. When I was carrying the two of you, I was still working in the fields. Nothing happened then, did it? Don’t fuss.”
At her age — past thirty — being fussed over by her sons made her feel unbearably embarrassed.
“How can that compare to now?” Ling Jingxuan helped her sit down, unusually insistent. “Mother, you’re considered an older expectant mother. If you’re not careful, how can that be acceptable?”
“Since when do country folk pay attention to all that?” she muttered, though the smile on her face never faded. Embarrassed or not, her sons cared about her — how could she not be pleased?
Ling Jingpeng was less gentle. “It’s exactly because you ‘don’t pay attention’ that people keep ordering you around. From now on, you’re not allowed to be like that. Big Brother is a physician. If he says you need to be careful, then we need to be careful. If something really goes wrong, won’t you be the one crying in the end?”
The worry in his eyes was naked and unguarded before his closest kin. Ling Wang-shi opened her mouth to retort but ultimately swallowed her words. After a moment, she lifted her head again, eyes shining with barely contained excitement.
“Jingxuan, guess what happened over there?”
“What happened?”
Seeing her eager, gossiping expression, Ling Jingxuan shook his head helplessly and asked out of courtesy more than interest. He might be intersex — capable of bearing children — but he was not some idle village wife. He had little interest in gossip. Especially not the Ling family’s.
“Early this morning, your eldest uncle and his wife went into town, didn’t they? Well, they came back looking utterly disgraced — and they dragged Ling Jingwei back with them, that wretch. Word is his father-in-law somehow found out that the reason he and Suhua haven’t had children all these years is because he was born with a cold constitution—he can’t get a woman pregnant at all. Now the Zhao family is demanding a divorce.”
Ling Jingpeng had not told her the full details of what happened the other night, so she had no idea that it was Ling Jingxuan who exposed Ling Jingwei’s condition. All she knew was that the eldest branch of the family was in turmoil — and that filled her with unhidden satisfaction. Years of pent-up resentment seemed to dissipate in an instant.
“Oh?” Ling Jingxuan raised a brow. “So, have they divorced?”
He was not surprised in the least. Shopkeeper Zhao had only one daughter and had long expected a grandson to inherit the family business. When they believed Zhao Suhua to be barren, that was one thing. But now that they knew the true problem lay with Ling Jingwei—combined with the man’s long-standing displeasure toward him—demanding a separation was only natural.
A Hélí (mutual divorce) was better than Xiūqī (repudiation); at least the woman’s reputation would suffer less. There would still be whispers, of course. But with Shopkeeper Zhao’s wealth, and Zhao Suhua’s respectable appearance and figure, finding her another suitable husband would not be difficult.
“How could it be that easy?” Ling Wang-shi scoffed. “A divorce might be better for a woman, but it also means the man is the one at fault. With the way your uncle’s family behaves, do you think they’d agree? When I left, they were all wailing in the main house. Even your grandfather was called back. I reckon they’ll head into town later to argue it out with the Zhao family.”
“What’s there to argue?” Ling Jingxuan’s lips curved in a faintly cold smile. “He’s the one who can’t get a woman pregnant. Don’t tell me he still plans to give a Letter of Xiūqī to her instead?”
Ling Jingpeng curled his lip and spoke without the slightest courtesy.
The eldest branch had two sons and a daughter. The first son, Ling Jinghong, was twenty-five this year. Several years ago he married the daughter of a landlord from the neighboring village and had since been helping the old master manage the family’s private school.
The second son, Ling Jingwei, was twenty-two. At fifteen, he had married the daughter of the general store owner in town and even became the junior shopkeeper himself.
Their only daughter, Ling Xiaotong, nineteen this year, had been married off three years ago to a wealthy household in the next town over. She had already borne two robust sons and was said to be living in enviable comfort.
Until this scandal erupted, the eldest branch had enjoyed nothing but smooth sailing. In every regard they overshadowed the second and third branches. At home, Eldest Uncle’s family always carried themselves with an air of superiority. Now, at last, it was their turn to taste bitterness.
“A Letter of Xiūqī?” Ling Wang-shi snorted, her tone thick with disdain. “You think too little of your uncle. They’re trying to turn a big matter into a small one — and a small one into nothing at all.”
Anyone with eyes could see it. They were still eyeing the Zhao family’s property.
Ling Jingxuan smiled faintly and lifted his teacup.
“Shopkeeper Zhao isn’t someone easily bullied. Mother, don’t get involved. Let them make their noise.”
From the moment he exposed Ling Jingwei’s condition, he had anticipated this outcome. What he had underestimated, however, was just how shameless the Ling family could be. Even at this stage, they still hoped to cling to the Zhao household and refuse to let go. Truly first-rate opportunists — audacious to the very end.
“I know better,” Ling Wang-shi replied. “Do you think I’m the same as before? Now I only hope Jinghan’s illness improves soon so we can divide the household earlier. The three of you brothers can then support our own small family in harmony.”
Unconsciously, she stroked her belly. The earlier sarcasm vanished, replaced by an unmistakable glow of maternal tenderness.
The two brothers exchanged a glance.
That’s the point. Let the others quarrel as they please. So long as they did not come seeking trouble here, all was well. If they expected help from them?
Not a chance.
The brothers were already being generous by choosing not to kick them while they were down.
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Translator: LazyHermitGal
Author: LazyHermitGal
A Lazy Hermit Gal. A little support goes a long way! If you’d like to help me keep creating, you can do so at https://ko-fi.com/lazyhermitgal
