Stepping out of the Fortune Inn, Xu Mu let out a long breath. Zhou Fu's thirty taels deposit, plus the six or seven taels from selling wine earlier, made a tidy sum. The cost of brewing the distilled wine had been less than two taels—what a fortune. Even setting aside fifteen taels to repay Jiang Caiwei's debt, the rest was more than enough for a second batch of private wine.
"Brother Mu, Lame Ma sent someone. He wants us to go to the alley." Si Hu's face flushed, his voice angry.
Xu Mu had anticipated this. Driven by greed, once word of his private wine got out, Lame Ma would surely try to get a cut.
"Brother Mu, if they dare 抢 the silver, I'll fight them!"
The Gang of Cripples was, after all, a loose group. Thugs joined hoping for protection, but now it seemed reversed—Lame Ma treated them only as cash cows. Honestly, Xu Mu had long wanted to break free.
"Pay them no mind." Xu Mu frowned. Going to the alley, Lame Ma's territory, would cost them at least half their silver. "Si Hu, go hire some coachmen. Say it's a one-time job for one qian—find strong ones."
One qian—one hundred coins—was three or four times the usual fare.
Soon, five sturdy coachmen arrived with their carts. Seeing their employer was a thug, their expressions soured.
"A little token." Xu Mu smiled, pressing coins into each man's hand—at least dozens apiece. Instantly, the disgruntled coachmen grew enthusiastic.
Times were tough. Poor folk's greatest skill was ensuring they earned enough to keep their families from starving. Pleasure was for the wealthy.
"I have a proposal." Xu Mu clapped his hands. "I want you to be my employees."
"How much a month?" The lead coachman asked after a pause. The others tensed. A measly one or two qian wouldn't beat their usual odd jobs.
Xu Mu held up two fingers calmly.
"Two qian? Generous, 东家." The five men sighed—it matched their usual earnings.
"I mean two taels." Xu Mu replied steadily.
"What!" Not just the coachmen—even Si Hu gaped, nearly clapping a hand over Xu Mu's mouth. "Brother Mu, this—this can't be!"
"Beyond the two taels," Xu Mu continued, "each trip adds one qian. Ten trips earn an extra tael."
"东家,are you serious?" The five, all young and bold, could barely contain their excitement.
"Of course." Xu Mu's tone shifted. "You saw today—I'm in the private wine business. Trouble's inevitable. I say we profit together. If someone blocks our earnings, will you stand with me?"
The coachmen fell silent. It wasn't quite risking their necks, but danger loomed.
"Villains wear gold belts; saints die in ditches. In these times, we live to keep our parents alive and our wives fed. I ask again—will you walk this path with me?"
Gritting their teeth, the five nodded in unison. "Yes! We'll call you master!"
"Unsure? I'll draw up contracts at the yamen tomorrow."
"But remember—swearing to me means following my lead."
"We hear you, master!" The five dismounted, bowing together.
"Disperse. Return early tomorrow."
On the way back, even the simple Si Hu grumbled. "Brother Mu, a coachman's worth at most half a tael a month—tops."
"You don't get it. I'm not hiring men—I'm buying loyalty."
"Brother Mu, what're you on about? It's like you're a different person."
Si Hu chattered on, nearly pulling down Xu Mu's pants to check for scars. Xu Mu kicked him all the way for four streets.
Back at the courtyard, even Xu Mu and Si Hu—still rubbing his sore rear—stopped short. The place looked transformed.
First, the walls: broken parts patched with mud, a row of wooden fences built as Xu Mu had asked. The gate, smashed by Madame Sha, was replaced with a sturdier one. Near the cattle shed, new earthen stoves stood, with stacks of firewood.
Jiang Caiwei, covered in grime, froze when she saw Xu Mu, standing quietly. "X-Xu Lang, if you're displeased, I'll fix it again."
Fix what? It was perfect. Xu Mu suddenly felt like a heartless husband.
"It's fine. No need." His words made her beam. She hurried to wash her hands, then brought out two bowls.
Still taro paste—but this time, sprinkled with shredded meat. Si Hu's eyes lit up, wolfing it down.
"I found a river fish while gathering wood today, Xu Lang—p-please eat."
"Have you eaten?"
"There's more in the pot."
Hesitating, Xu Mu took the bowl. Jiang Caiwei smiled, then, blushing, turned to scoop the last of the paste into her bowl, squatting to eat.
Xu Mu watched, a pang in his chest. He rose, walked over, and pulled her back to the table.
"Xu Lang... I shouldn't sit here. The neighbors will laugh." She held her bowl, voice small.
"One family, one table. That's my rule. Besides, I drank earlier—I don't want the meat." Without waiting, he swapped their bowls.
Clutching the bowl, Jiang Caiwei paused, then bowed her head, 大口 ing to hide her tears.
"Don't gather wood tomorrow. Stay and tend the stoves for me." Xu Mu finished his bowl in one go. "Tell me if anything's missing."
"Xu Lang, I need nothing... I'm happy enough..." She buried her face, sobbing.