Chapter 71

"I'm back."

Chen Jue saw the smile on his face and knew he'd gotten it done. This sort of thing was nothing for Huo Jilin, so he didn't get why the guy was so pleased with himself.

"Quit writing, you'll strain your eyes." Huo Jilin came up behind him, placed his hands on his shoulders, and massaged them while looking at the stack of papers he'd written.

The baby was already eight months and ten days along.

It was too heavy, weighing down on Chen Jue and making him uncomfortable.

With Huo Jilin kneading his shoulders, Chen Jue felt the ache and had to set down his brush.

"Ease up... that's enough..." It felt good, sure, but it hurt too, and Chen Jue yelped. He felt like the sounds he was making belonged in some racy novel.

Huo Jilin was still smiling: "Go lie down on the kang, I'll do your legs too."

"No need!"

But Huo Jilin did it anyway. Once he lay down, cradling his belly, he couldn't get back up easily.

Huo Jilin had figured out the sweet spot again—massaging just right, not too hard, not too light. Chen Jue relaxed and drifted off without even realizing it.

The next morning, Village Head Zhou called in the old clan elder, and after talking it over, they set aside some land for Huo Jilin.

The Huo family already lived way out at the foot of the mountain, where aside from a few vegetable patches, it was all just wasteland. So when Huo Jilin pointed to the wasteland behind his house that ran up against the mountain, the old clan elder just frowned a little and asked, "Dalin, you're gonna turn all this wasteland into a medicine workshop?"

Chen Jue was a little taken aback too, looking at the wild grass covering nearly thirty mu of sloped wasteland. Huo Jilin had been using this land to run his horses lately—was he planning to fence it all in and keep them there?

Was Huo Jilin, used to his big factory buildings from his past life, still not adjusted and clueless about what a workshop should look like?

But Chen Jue kept his mouth shut. Huo Jilin had his reasons, and he wasn't the type to change his mind just because someone said something—especially if that someone was Chen Jue himself, then he'd really not listen.

Anyway, the silver was the silver; let him blow it however he wanted.

Huo Jilin nodded to the old clan elder of the Zhou family: "Elder, you have no idea how many wounded and crippled soldiers there'll be after the war. We might need to set up medical shelters for them here. If this wasteland's not gonna be used, you can sell it to me."

The old clan elder stared at the hillside, thinking. Pingshan Village was mountains on top of mountains—the one thing they had plenty of was mountains, and the one thing that was worth the least was mountain land.

The mountain behind the slope Huo Jilin wanted wasn't the one with the best feng shui. That honor went to the mountain next to it, where the village's ancestral graves were.

If Huo Jilin had asked for that one, he'd have suspected his real motives.

But Huo Jilin only asked for the one next to it, close to his house, which made sense.

As for why it was so big, it was probably to show Magistrate Liu—the guy needed that much room.

The old clan elder's eyes went a little hazy as he looked at that barren stretch of land. His arms and legs were old now, and in recent years he couldn't climb the mountain for the ancestral rites anymore, so he hadn't set foot here in a long time.

He remembered when the Huo family had moved here back then—this land was already abandoned even then. That was also why the villagers didn't object when the Huo family picked this spot.

Except for folks passing through to visit graves, hardly anyone came here. Now the grass was waist-high from neglect.

This wasteland had sat unused for decades, for generations.

It wasn't that nobody had thought of developing it, but the land was poor and rocky, impossible to farm. The grass seeds were thicker than anything—even if you burned it all, the next year's rain would bring it sprouting back dense as ever. So it had just sat there fallow all these years.

Selling it to Huo Jilin was no loss—he was doing the village a favor.

Huo Jilin went on calmly, watching his face: "Elder, you know I came back from the battlefield by the skin of my teeth. I know how bad off those men are, so I want to do what little I can. Spending my military merits on this is nothing."

When he brought up his military merits, the old clan elder's hazy eyes suddenly cleared up a bit. He still remembered how Huo Jilin had used his military merits to get their village three years of tax exemption. For that alone, giving him this land wouldn't be too much.

The villagers wouldn't have a problem with it.

Huo Jilin went on: "I also know the mountain next door holds our villagers' ancestral graves. Don't worry—when I build the medicine workshop, I'll put in a road, and I'll also pave the path up to the graves, so it's easier for us to go up and pay our respects later."

Huo Jilin had covered all the bases.

After thinking it over, the old clan elder nodded to Village Head Zhou, who said in a low voice: "Alright, I'll get the villagers together later to talk about this. Even though this is wasteland, as village head, I still gotta price it at wasteland rates to be fair to the other villagers. However,"

Village Head Zhou pointed to the sloped bit at the mountain base and said: "That piece is hard to build on anyway. Just think of it as fenced in for the horses—I'll go ahead and throw it in for you. When you measure the land, you can fudge the numbers a bit."

Village Head Zhou turned to Zhou Dajiang, who was a carpenter. Zhou Dajiang used his ink line to measure wood, and Village Head Zhou was putting his skills to good use by having him measure the land too.

Zhou Dajiang smiled and said, "Sure thing, Village Head, I got it." He gave Huo Jilin a smile too. Village Head Zhou was being pretty easygoing this time—though of course, Dalin had really done a lot for their village.

Chen Jue quietly sucked in a breath looking at the land that was now confirmed. That night Huo Jilin had said he wanted a mountain, and now he was just about to have one.

Once Huo Jilin bought and fenced off this land at the mountain base, fewer people would go up the mountain, and that mountain would practically become his.

Zhou Dajiang quickly took Village Head Zhou's eldest son out to survey the wasteland. That eldest son was a smooth talker—if his own dad wanted to get in good with Huo Jilin, he was happy to do a favor too. So Zhou Dajiang came up with a number of twenty-five mu.

A full thirty-three mu of land, counted as twenty-five—and that didn't even include the mountain that was practically wrapped up in the deal.

Village Head Zhou then beat the gong again, gathering everyone together. He first announced that Huo Jilin would build a medicine workshop and would hire strong laborers from the village, paying wages at the same rate as the town market, not a penny less.

The villagers immediately began chattering.

"A workshop—what does a medicine workshop do?"

Like Village Head Zhou at first, they had no idea why Huo Jilin wanted to build a medicine workshop. They could understand him raising horses, pigs, or chickens, but a medicine workshop was too far from their lives. Unless they were sick, they wouldn't want to see a doctor all year round.

"What does a medicine workshop do—treat the sick? Just for our village? That won't work, better go to town instead?"

"Never mind what he's going to do with it—Village Head says he's building a workshop and hiring us villagers, paying us wages same as in town! If that's true, I'm in!"

"Dalin, are you serious? You're really hiring us? How much is the pay? I can lay bricks and build houses—no problem!"

"Me neither! I built my own house—I can even set the roof beam!"

Village Head Zhou banged the gong: "Quiet down! Those with skills, thirty wen; laborers, twenty wen. Same as outside. No meals provided."

"Why no meals?"

"Look at his husband—does he look like someone who can cook?" said someone rude. Chen Jue pretended not to hear.

"The price would be different if meals were included. I'd rather have the money anyway. Besides, this time it's right in our village—just go home to eat!"

"How many people does Dalin need!"

"Heard it's over fifty people, working ten days straight."

"That's how much money!"

"Ten days per person is two hundred wen—fifty people is fifty times two hundred wen!" the man declared confidently. His arithmetic only went up to the hundreds place.

"...That's ten taels of silver." Zhou Qingzhu said to the anxious Uncle Liu. His arithmetic was decent—he'd learned some from selling goods at the market all day.

"Big Lin's just throwing money away!" Uncle Liu gasped when he heard ten taels of silver. He was the only one who'd dare say something like that.

Zhou Qingshan coughed. "Why so sudden? He never said a word about it."

Sure, Huo Lin had been teaching some of them how to identify herbs and process them to sell to him lately, but did that mean he had to open a medicine workshop? What the heck was a medicine workshop even for?

No one knew what it was for. Even Village Head Zhou only knew the basics—that Huo Lin's husband knew some medicine and was going to make medicine for the sick and wounded soldiers.

As for what kind of medicine, he had no clue.

He waved his hand and coughed. "Alright, everyone, settle down. Huo Lin's in charge of anything medicine-related. Your job is just to build the workshop. We need fifty able-bodied men. Figure out how many workers your household can spare—don't all pile in at once. Sweet potato harvest is coming up in a few days, so keep some people back for that. Think it over. First, let me talk about the land for the workshop."

He picked up the drawing Zhou Dajiang had made and addressed the crowd: "The land Huo Lin picked for the workshop isn't taking anyone's farmland—it's the wasteland behind his place, twenty-five mu."

He didn't let anyone interrupt and went on: "Today, with all of you as witnesses, we're selling Huo Lin these twenty-five mu of wasteland at the wasteland price for his workshop.

In Pingshan Village, good farmland goes for ten taels a mu, and prime paddy fields fifteen taels. Wasteland runs about two taels a mu. So twenty-five mu comes to fifty taels. Huo Lin, look over this contract. If it's all good, sign it, and everyone here will witness it."

Uncle Liu hadn't gotten a chance to talk to Huo Jilin all day. When he heard about the twenty-five mu of wasteland, he panicked and shouted, not caring if he ticked off Village Head Zhou: "Big Lin! Don't buy that land! It's worthless! You can't farm it!"

Fifty taels could get you ten mu of good land instead! Who'd want that wasteland? Nobody'd take it even if you paid them! It's been sitting there for years—that says it all. If he wants to run his horses, he can just ride them wherever!

Village Head Zhou shot Uncle Liu a dirty look. He made it sound like he was cheating the younger generation without a conscience. He'd confirmed this with Huo Lin multiple times. Huo Lin was a Guerrilla General now—would a village head like him dare to pull a fast one?!

Huo Jilin glanced at Uncle Liu, signaling they'd talk later, then picked up the brush and signed the contract. Then he handed the brush to Chen Jue, who signed his name too, while the crowd stared in shock.

In this era, husbands usually depended on their spouses' families and rarely got their names on land deeds. If Huo Lin hadn't died, Chen Jue wouldn't even have the right to live in this village, let alone own land.

A while back, four men from the village died in battle. Three of them had husbands, and two had kids. The husbands with kids could stay in the village and keep the land, but the one without kids had to go back to her family and remarry. Because without land here, the land went to the in-laws and the younger brother's family.

Zhang Shui stood in the crowd, holding his son Zhou Mu's hand. He'd lost a lot of weight over the past few months, but he'd also moved past his grief. A person's got to survive first and focus on the here and now.

He watched Chen Jue with a bit of envy, but no jealousy. He figured Chen Jue had finally turned a corner after all his suffering.

If anything, he owed Chen Jue thanks—not just for treating his son's stomachache and giving him ready-made medicine for a few copper coins.

He was grateful because Chen Jue's outlook on life had inspired him.

Chen Jue had also lost his husband, but he'd been exceptionally strong, carrying his belly without shedding a single tear.

If Huo Jilin knew about this gratitude, he'd probably laugh in exasperation. Chen Jue wasn't strong—he simply wasn't sad at all!

Zhang Shui looked at Chen Jue with admiration. Chen Jue was not only strong but also incredibly skilled, with such remarkable medical knowledge. And now he was even building a medicine workshop. How wonderful.

Chen Jue's casual, matter-of-fact statement—"Why can't I raise this child alone? This child is mine alone"—had been an eye-opener for Zhang Shui.

Yes, he could raise his child alone too. He had no mother-in-law to deal with; he could just do everything himself. He'd worried before that his child's father wouldn't come back, leaving him alone in the household, afraid he couldn't hold things together.

But seeing Zhao Yang's household with in-laws—daily cursing and chaos—he felt that being a widow with a child was actually less troublesome. Though life was harder than before, having to farm and harvest on his own, everything he harvested was his to decide, and he could eat his fill.

He had land. He used to worry about Chen Jue too—Chen Jue went up the mountain every day to gather herbs, which was exhausting. Now Huo Lin had returned and bought land, and life was clearly getting better.

He felt there was nothing wrong with Chen Jue signing the contract. He was just that capable.

One person could stand tall and independent. Why couldn't a man make his own way?

Zhang Shui had lived independently for these months, running his own household, and had developed strong opinions.

But others in the village couldn't understand.

Uncles, aunties, and elders all looked at Chen Jue with complicated expressions.

"That Jue Geer really is something. Now even Big Lin's a bit afraid of him."

"Is their household run by Jue Geer?"

"Definitely! Didn't you know? Big Lin cooks at home for his husband every day."

You see, their men absolutely refused to step into the kitchen. Even if their wives were about to give birth, the men still had to have their meals made.

Only a few households had men who cooked—like that Zhao Chun who married into his wife's family.

In their household, Zhou Hehua was in charge.

Now that Big Lin cooked, didn't that mean Chen Jue was in charge?

Village Head Zhou coughed heavily. He'd heard all the villagers' gossip. They really gave Huo Lin no face at all.

Huo Lin was a Guerrilla General! And he was hiring workers and paying them!

These people were such gossips!

His cough finally silenced the villagers' chatter. Business first!

Get the land settled, build the workshop!

Village Head Zhou said no more. Whose name was on the contract was their private family matter—they shouldn't meddle. Anyway, the useless wasteland was sold off. If the couple regretted it later, they could fight it out behind closed doors. That wasn't their fault.

Having both names on the contract had its advantages too.

Author's note:

An extra update for everyone. Thanks for the bookmarks and comments.

Thanks!