BDSMST -Chapter 24 Want to Eat? Trade Labor for It!

When Gu Xuan heard Wei Ziqian’s almost ingratiating question, his small chest puffed out even straighter. With the air of someone seasoned and experienced, he cast a leisurely glance at the empty vegetable plate.

“It’s called Jade Cabbage. I grew it.”

He deliberately emphasized the words “I grew it,” his face brimming with undisguised pride.

“You grew it?” Wei Ziqian’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. He pointed at Gu Xuan, then at the plate, stammering, “Y-you… you know how to grow vegetables now?”

“What’s so hard about growing vegetables?” Gu Xuan waved his hand dismissively, as if discussing something trivial. “Turn the soil, sow the seeds, water them, remove the pests. After some time, you can eat.”

He made it sound easy, but only he knew how much sweat lay behind that casual tone. The fingers scraped raw by pebbles, the back of his neck peeled by the sun, the daily confrontation with chicken droppings and pig feed—all of it had become the source of his deepest confidence.

Qian Duoduo listened, dumbfounded. He scooted closer, gazing at Gu Xuan with open admiration. “Brother Xuan, can you grow other things too? Like… like that beggar’s chicken earlier… did you raise the chicken too?”

“Of course.” Gu Xuan lifted his chin. “That hen’s name is Big Flower. I even ate the custard made from her first egg.”

As he spoke, he was radiant. The dark glow of his tanned little face shone with life. He was nothing like the gloomy, irritable little tyrant they remembered—the one who would explode at the slightest provocation.

Wei Ziqian and the others exchanged glances, feeling their worldview shaken to its core. They had come to laugh at Gu Xuan. Instead, they felt as if they had stumbled upon some hidden paradise where a reclusive master lived in seclusion. And that “master” was the very Gu Xuan they had looked down upon most.

Especially the crisp sweetness of the Jade Cabbage and the rich, non-greasy fragrance of the braised pork—those flavors still lingered on their tongues, reminding them of their earlier loss of composure.

“Is there any more?” Wei Ziqian couldn’t help himself. He licked his lips and asked again, “That cabbage… is there any left? We… we can buy it!”

To him, money was the most reliable—and most dignified—solution.

“Buy?”

A calm voice drifted over from the side.

Only then did they notice Jiang Suisui, who had quietly watched them eat from beginning to end, set down her bowl and chopsticks. She wiped her hands with a clean cloth and looked at the pampered young masters with steady eyes.

“The things here are not for sale.”

“Not for sale?” Wei Ziqian grew anxious. “Why not? We can pay a high price! One hundred taels! One hundred taels for a single cabbage—surely that’s enough!”

In his view, there was nothing in the world that money couldn’t buy. If there was, it simply meant the price wasn’t high enough.

Chunxing listened from the side, her heart pounding. One hundred taels for a cabbage? These young masters were outrageously extravagant!

Jiang Suisui didn’t even blink.

She stood up, walked to the vegetable patch, and casually plucked a golden cucumber still tipped with its blossom and tiny thorns. With a crisp snap, she broke it in two and handed half to Gu Xuan.

She took a bite of her own. The sharp, crunchy sound echoed clearly in the quiet courtyard.

“Here, there is only one rule,” she said to Wei Ziqian, enunciating each word clearly. “He who does not work, neither shall he eat.”

After speaking, she turned and pointed toward the far end of the courtyard, where a newly cleared but still untilled plot of land lay waiting.

“Want to eat? Fine. See that land over there?”

Wei Ziqian and the others followed her finger.

It was a stretch of earth overgrown with waist-high weeds—several times larger than the vegetable garden they had just seen.

“Starting at dawn tomorrow, all of you will go clear that land. When you’ve finished reclaiming it, you’ll be able to eat meals like today’s again,” Jiang Suisui said calmly, yet with unquestionable authority. “As for how much you get to eat—and what you get to eat—that depends on how much work you do.”

“What? You want us to clear wasteland?!” Wei Ziqian reacted as if he’d just heard the greatest joke in the world. “You expect us to do servants’ work?”

“Here, there are no servants,” Jiang Suisui repeated what she had once told Gu Xuan. “Or rather, everyone works for themselves. Work more, eat better. Work less—or not at all—and you’ll have nothing but wild vegetable porridge and coarse buns.”

After saying that, she ignored the uproar of outraged young masters and turned to Gu Xuan. “Full?”

Gu Xuan nodded, still chewing on his sweet, crisp cucumber.

“Then let’s go. I’ll show you the new cowshed blueprint I drew.”

With that, she led Gu Xuan inside without a backward glance, leaving behind a courtyard full of stunned, indignant young nobles—staring at the empty plates on the table and the patch of menacing wasteland glinting under the moonlight.

“She… what does she mean? Is she threatening us?” Qian Duoduo could hardly believe his ears.

“This is outrageous! Absolutely outrageous!” Wei Ziqian fumed, nearly stamping his foot. “Who does she think she is, speaking to us like that? Let’s go! We’ll leave right now! I refuse to believe that without this miserable place, we won’t be able to get food!”

He turned to storm off.

But after only two steps, his stomach betrayed him with a loud growl.

He had eaten too fast and too greedily at dinner. Just as he felt he’d barely tasted it, it was gone. Now, anger only sharpened the hunger gnawing at him.

The others weren’t much better. Each of them rubbed their stomachs, their steps faltering.

They imagined returning to the capital and resuming their feasts of rare delicacies. Yet, for some reason, what filled their minds wasn’t abalone or bird’s nest soup—but the crisp sweetness of the Jade Cabbage, the tender richness of that braised pork.

The gourmet dishes they once revered now seemed… bland by comparison.

That night, the young masters were led by Chunxing to another empty thatched hut. Inside were straw pallets on the floor—far worse than even Gu Xuan’s room.

They lay on the straw beds, breathing in the scent of hay, listening to the insects outside and catching whiffs of the pigsty drifting through the air. They tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

They simmered with anger—anger at being slighted, at being treated with such indifference. Yet at the same time, the hollow ache in their stomachs and the lingering memory of that meal tormented them endlessly.

For these pampered sons of privilege, it was destined to be a sleepless night.

At dawn the next morning, when the sky was barely light—

A rich fragrance of rice porridge drifted from the kitchen.

It was porridge made from Purple Jade Rice produced in the special space—its aroma far more intense and mellow than ordinary grain.

Wei Ziqian and the others hadn’t slept well and were already starving. The moment they smelled it, they scrambled out of their straw piles and followed the scent into the courtyard.

There they saw Jiang Suisui and Gu Xuan seated at the table, each with a bowl of thick, steaming white rice porridge, accompanied by a small dish of diced leftover Jade Cabbage from the night before.

Gu Xuan slurped happily, his little face glowing with satisfaction.

In contrast, Chunxing placed several coarse pottery bowls before the young masters. Inside was thin, watery wild vegetable porridge—so sparse it was hard to spot a grain of rice—and a few dark, hard coarse buns.

“Young masters, please enjoy your breakfast,” Chunxing said softly, not daring to meet their eyes.

Wei Ziqian looked at the “pig slop” in his bowl, then at the fragrant, steaming porridge in Gu Xuan’s.

The enormous disparity stung like a slap to the face.

He clenched his teeth, walked up to Jiang Suisui, and asked word by word:

“That patch of wasteland… what exactly do you want us to do?”