TIPS – Chapter 16

Shen Junxi returned to the courtyard with the money, where Song Jingwei was talking to Shen Dongming.

“Oh? Got the money, Xi’er? That much?!”

Shen Dongming was surprised.

After all, Yang Shi was soft-tempered, but she was incredibly strict when it came to money.

Song Jingwei took the money and asked, “Who around here has kids? Do you know?”

Shen Dongming chuckled.

“The boy next door, Er-Dandan, will do. I’ll take care of it.”

Satisfied, Song Jingwei handed over the money and the list.

With his father heading out and his wife returning indoors, Shen Junxi, seeing that there was nothing else for him to do, went back to feeding the pigs.

The pig feed had been harvested days ago, and they hadn’t collected fresh grass for the past two days. He planned to go out later that morning to cut some more.

Meanwhile, Yang Shi finished feeding her chickens. Then, carrying the fabric and money, she prepared to go find the tailor. 

As she passed through the courtyard, she told Shen Junxi, “I’m heading to the tailor. I’ll be back before noon. You stay home with your wife, alright?”

Shen Junxi waved his hand dismissively, not minding that his mother was treating him like a child. However, since she was leaving, he decided not to go out either. He couldn’t leave Song Jingwei home alone.

Shortly after, Song Jingwei opened the window and called out,

“Shen Junxi, come inside.”

The second time this morning. It caught Shen Junxi off guard again.

For a moment, he was both nervous and expectant. Since he couldn’t read the tone in Song Jingwei’s voice, he wasn’t sure if this was good or bad.

As soon as he stepped inside, Song Jingwei moved aside, gesturing toward a piece of paper on the desk.

“You can write, right?”

Pointing at the text, he continued,

“Copy this. Fifty copies.”

It sounded like a lot, but the content was short—just a few lines.

“Mm.” Shen Junxi nodded in response without even looking up.

Song Jingwei stepped aside to give him space and stood nearby, watching him write. The handwriting was indeed much better than his—authentic ancient calligraphy, carrying a charm that modern people could hardly replicate.

The entire morning was spent copying fifty proof documents. With nothing else to do, Song Jingwei went to the kitchen, washed the teapot and cups, and brought them back to the room to make tea.

Shen Junxi occasionally got distracted. When he noticed the teacup beside him, he was momentarily stunned. A stream of steaming hot water poured into the cup, revealing a delicate, clear tea color with an enticing fragrance—it was high-quality green tea left over from Qingming.

“Drink if you’re thirsty.” Song Jingwei picked up his own tea and took a sip.

“Mm.” Shen Junxi’s bright eyes lingered on him for a moment.

Raising his eyebrows, Song Jingwei said, “Hurry up and copy. I need them before noon.” He had asked the villagers to come over by midday, aiming to settle the land matters in one go.

“Mm-hmm.” Shen Junxi didn’t dare delay and buried his head in his work. After writing a couple of characters, he paused, drank the tea first, and then continued.

After smacking his lips twice, he secretly felt pleased—his wife’s tea-making skills weren’t as good as his…

By noon, all fifty proof documents were copied, and Yang Shi had returned. She had bought one jin of fatty meat and one jin of lean meat from the village butcher to prepare lunch for their family of four. The fatty meat was rendered into lard, with some used for cooking vegetables, while the lean meat was sliced thin and made into a loofah soup.

The two jin of meat cost thirty wen, which pained Yang Shi. However, she wasn’t a stubborn person. Since her daughter-in-law had requested it and even provided silver, she complied.

After lunch, the family sat together, drinking tea and digesting their meal. Before long, people started arriving outside the courtyard. Shen Dongming peeked out, then stood up to open the door.

“That must be them.”

There were twenty-two tenant households renting land from the Song family, and today, eighteen of them had come—almost all. They had heard from the eight tenants present that day that Song Jingwei planned to hire long-term laborers at a generous wage of thirty taels of silver per person per year. This news was simply too tempting.

As each tenant entered the courtyard and saw Song Jingwei, their faces showed excitement and nervous anticipation.

Song Jingwei said, “Thank you all for taking the time to come. I believe you’ve already heard some of what I’m about to say. Yes, I plan to reclaim the 150 mu of land I rented to you and offer you employment as long-term laborers.”

As soon as he finished speaking, a man couldn’t help but interject, “Is it true that each person will get thirty taels of silver per year?”

Song Jingwei nodded. “It’s true. As long as you meet the standards for a long-term laborer, you’ll get thirty taels.”

Relief and joy spread across the faces of the eighteen tenants. Thirty taels was a lot—some of them didn’t even make twenty taels in an entire year of hard labor. As for the standards for long-term laborers, they had already heard from others. What was there to worry about? Anyone who worked the fields was strong and hardworking—except for Sun Laizi and his nephew, Sun Zheng, who were exceptions.

“As you all know, there are still two years left on the lease for this land. If I want to reclaim it immediately, I must pay a penalty for breaking the contract.” Song Jingwei continued, “Now, let’s discuss the matter of compensation.”

He held a list, marking how many mu each tenant had. “Last night, I saw the rental agreement at the village head’s place. It states that the party breaking the contract must compensate a quarter of one year’s earnings.”

The tenants nodded, feeling pleased at the mention of compensation. They had never expected such a situation to arise, but it was clearly written in the contract.

“But we only have a partial harvest for the first half of this year. How will our earnings be calculated?” someone asked.

Song Jingwei replied, “Let’s go by last year’s earnings. Just report your actual income to me. I have a proof document here—sign it, and I’ll pay you immediately.”

So they would get the silver right away?

The villagers, honest and straightforward farmers, quickly responded:

“Then I’ll sign. Our household made twenty-two taels last year.”

“My family has less land—fifteen taels.”

“We have seven mu—twenty taels.”

“We only have five mu. Last year’s income was eighteen taels.”

Song Jingwei had Shen Junxi take out the proof documents, and the tenants lined up to sign. A small box filled with loose silver was placed beside them—once a tenant signed, they were immediately paid. Before long, all eighteen documents were signed.

“Now that you’ve signed and received your compensation, I ask that you vacate the land as soon as possible. The sooner I start, the sooner you’ll earn your wages.”

The villagers responded eagerly, “Of course! Farming that land barely makes any money. We’d rather take a stable wage of thirty taels a year.”

With righteous determination, they assured him, “We’ll clear the land right away—we won’t take advantage of you, Young Master Song. After all, we haven’t even paid the rent for this year yet!”

Seeing how reasonable they were, Song Jingwei said, “Thank you all. If possible, I plan to start building a new house soon—ideally, we can break ground tomorrow. I’ll need workers for the construction. Would you be willing to sign a long-term labor contract with me now?”

The villagers, hearing that they could start working as soon as the day after tomorrow, were naturally eager. However, they had one question:

“Young Master Song, how often will we get paid as long-term laborers?”

Song Jingwei replied, “Half of the monthly wage will be paid each month, with the full amount settled at the end of the year. If there are special circumstances, advances can be considered.”

“That sounds good! Alright, we all agree to work!” The tenants spoke up one by one.

“But the long-term labor contract hasn’t been written yet. How about you all come back at the same time in two days? Work officially starts the day after that anyway.” Not only was the contract unwritten, but the house construction design hadn’t been done either. The schedule was already tight. Song Jingwei realized this and reflected on himself—he didn’t want to get stomach cancer again.

“That works. Young Master Song, whatever you say goes. We’ll come back in two days.” The villagers, holding their silver, grinned from ear to ear.

“Alright, then it’s settled.”

With that, Song Jingwei finally paid attention to the number of people who had come today. He said, “I have a list of twenty-two tenant households, and eighteen of you are here. I know why two are absent, but what about the other two?”

The villagers scratched their heads, thinking. “Besides Sun Laizi and Sun Zheng, there’s Wu Xi’s family from the end of the village, and his brother Wu Fu’s family.” Someone wondered, “Why didn’t they come? Don’t tell me they’re trying to pull the same stunt as Sun Laizi and his nephew?” Trying to be difficult?

“No, no, they’re honest people,” a man familiar with the Wu brothers said.

“Maybe they just didn’t get the message,” Song Jingwei thought for a moment and said, “Whoever knows them well, let them know if you see them.”

Everyone nodded. “Alright, we’ll tell them if we see them.”

“Good.” Song Jingwei said, “Then I won’t keep you all any longer. Come back tomorrow.”

The villagers agreed, then asked a few more questions before finally leaving in a lively group.

The Shen family’s courtyard was quiet again, with only the three members of the Shen family left… no, it should be four now.

Watching how Song Jingwei resolved such a major issue with just a few words left them deeply impressed—this was what it meant to handle big matters.

However, the amount of silver spent was enough to make one’s heart ache for days.

“Take these back and start writing the long-term labor contract for me now.” Song Jingwei said as he tidied up.

“Mm.” Shen Junxi nodded and helped clean up. He had spent the entire morning copying documents. His hands were sore, but he didn’t even think about refusing or postponing the task.

In the afternoon, the two of them stayed in the room, quietly writing. Occasionally, the sounds of hammering and construction came from outside the courtyard—likely, Shen Dongming’s thatched shed was almost finished.

Song Jingwei shook his hand, sore from an hour of drawing the construction plans. He couldn’t help but think of Shen Junxi, who had been writing even longer.

“Stop writing and go help your father. You can continue tomorrow morning.”

Although he used to be a workaholic boss, after spending a year in the hospital, he had vowed never to overwork himself again.

Shen Junxi looked up from his focused work, his expression like a small, unremarkable wildflower—subtle but full of vitality.