OFTLHFRO C56

Chapter 56: A Satisfactory Hire

Luo Mingchen’s offer stunned the scholar. “May I ask what the work entails?”

“My shop’s business is decent, and I need a helper,” Luo said. “Also, the door was forced once before—I want someone to mind the place.”

Luo figured the scholar was a man who kept his word, with decent character; if he could manage hard labor like hauling cargo, then he could certainly handle the grind. That was exactly the kind of help Luo wanted.

After a pause, the scholar said, “I’d be willing, of course. Only, I previously offended two young masters from the county seat. They might come here to make trouble. If that brings you harm, I’d be deeply ashamed.”

“It’s fine,” Luo replied. “We’re not breaking any laws. If they want to cause trouble, they’ll have to think it through first. Even if it comes to blows, we won’t be cowed.”

Whatever else, the law in this world hadn’t collapsed. If fear of this or that kept him paralyzed, there’d be no point in running a shop. And if the yamen truly wouldn’t intervene, Luo could always “educate” those young masters privately.

The scholar blinked, unsure where Luo’s confidence came from.

Luo wasn’t one for dithering. “So? Are you in or not?”

With the invitation laid out so plainly, the scholar wouldn’t refuse. His gaze firmed. “I’m in.”

“Good. Where do you live? Pack up and come over now.”

With someone at the shop, Luo could finally sleep well.

“Today? Already?” the scholar asked, surprised.

“Yes. We’ve already cleaned inside. We’ll send bedding over in a bit. Or are you far? We have an ox cart—we can bring your mother, too.”

He paused, remembering. “Can Auntie travel?”

“She can,” the scholar nodded.

The shop’s environment was good, and with a cart, there’d be no need to walk. In this cool weather, anything beat a thatched hut.

“Alright.”

They went with the scholar to his home.

Luo had Yuhui stay with the younger ones while he and Huo Yan took the cart.

It truly wasn’t far—about a li outside town. A thatched hut with a reed fence—familiar, somehow.

Luo recalled the painting Yuhui had wanted to buy; the scene looked just like this.

He’d thought it was stylized, but it turned out to be realistic.

They stopped at the door, and the scholar went in to pack.

Luo and Huo waited outside.

After about a quarter-hour, the scholar emerged supporting a woman. Their bundles were small; most of what they brought after that were the scholar’s books and brush-and-ink set, though not much remained, and then there were medicine packets and jars.

Didn’t look like they’d need a second trip.

The woman—haggard now, her features revealed a former beauty. Frail, gentle-voiced, she bowed. “Greetings, gentlemen.”

Luo stepped up to lend a hand, smiling brightly. “No need for formality, Auntie—just call me Mingchen. This is my spouse, Huo Yan—folks in the village call him Huo Dalang.”

Huo explained his grandfather had first used the name, since Huo was the eldest in his family; the village simply followed suit.

The title always made Luo think of Wu Dalang, the sesame-cake seller.

The scholar realized he’d never given his own name. “I’m Wen Liuyun.”

“My maiden family name is Chen,” the woman added. “I’m called Xiu Yue.”

From her bearing, Luo guessed Auntie Chen hadn’t been raised in a village; likely from a once-comfortable family fallen on hard times.

Introductions made, they climbed aboard.

Huo drove the cart back toward town.

The couple first returned home to gather bedding and some rice and flour to send over.

But as soon as they got back, Yuhui reported that the bedding was already prepared.

“Good boy,” Luo said, surprised and amused, ruffling his hair.

They packed rice, flour, oil, vegetables, fruit, and meat.

“There’s firewood and a wok at the shop,” Luo said. “Cook for yourselves in the mornings and evenings; we’ll come by at noon. So we only eat together at midday.”

He set folded bedding on the bed. “If anything comes up, speak up. You know where we live—you can find us, right? Here’s the shop key.”

“Thank you,” Wen said, taking it.

“We’ll leave it to you, then,” Luo said. “Make yourselves at home.”

With someone to watch the shop, a major worry was lifted. The couple returned home to cook dinner.

After they left, Chen Xiu Yue asked, puzzled, “Yun’er—these are the pastry sellers you said were kind?”

“Yes,” Wen said, spreading the bedding.

Feeling a little stronger, Auntie Chen tried to rise to help.

Wen gently pressed her back. “Mother, don’t move—I’ll manage.”

“I’m alright,” she said with a soft smile.

“I know. Please sit first.”

Wen still couldn’t believe it—the doctor had said she wouldn’t last two days, yet after eating those pastries, she had rallied. No way would he let her exert herself.

Seeing his anxiety, Auntie Chen stayed put obediently. “Is business good here?”

“They sell tofu and pastries—and milk tea and soy milk,” Wen said. “Lots of people love the milk tea; I hear it’s delicious. Mother, once I get paid, I’ll buy you a cup to try.”

“So much variety?” she said, astonished. “What will we do here?”

“Boss Luo said I should help sell milk tea and mind the shop. Two hundred wen a month, room and board included.”

“What good people,” Auntie Chen sighed. “Yun’er, do your work well—no slacking.”

Wen smiled. “I will.”

“Achoo—”

Back home, Luo suddenly sneezed, rubbing his nose. “Caught a chill?”

Huo touched his forehead. “No fever.”

“I’ll boil some ginger tea later,” Luo said. Then, as if remembering something, added, “You drink some, too.”

“Hm?”

Smiling, Luo pecked his lips. “I’ll infect you.”

Catching him before he could dart away, Huo pulled him back and kissed him thoroughly.

If they were both going to drink ginger tea anyway, they might as well kiss enough to make it worthwhile.

Yuhui, who had come to check whether the two fathers were back yet: “…”

Spotting the pair lingering by the pillar, he calmly turned back to find his siblings.

Truth be told, with Wen Liuyun at the shop, things became much easier for Luo and Huo.

Though Wen needed a bit of guidance on day one, by day three he needed no help with wrapping tofu or selling milk tea. He was quick with his hands and had a great memory—his own quirky system. When crowds swelled, he’d jot a few numbers on a slip.

Luo couldn’t decipher it, but Wen always could. In just three days, many customers were praising him.

If there was a flaw, it was that tofu still had to be made at home.

But that wasn’t an issue—home wasn’t far, the house was large, and everything they needed was there.

With the shop in good hands, Luo happily tinkered with maltose in the back courtyard.