Chapter 48: Earn Money Seriously

Pan Hong slapped away his outstretched hand, "I'll deliver it myself tomorrow."

But soon it was no longer possible—the village head came to notify them, "At Chen Shi tomorrow, we're harvesting wheat in Dong Erli; all three of you father and sons are conscripted—don't be late."

He also called out Pan Yue and Pan Yu's names, saying, "The Second Battalion wants you two to clean the stables—hurry up, you've got fifteen minutes."

Pan Yue and Pan Yu dared not speak, bowing their heads in assent.

Pan Hong looked at his two emaciated sons, his heart ached; seeing the village head's greedy gaze linger on the rice, flour, and cooking oil they had just bought, he knew this path would be hard.

Pan Hong said nothing more, simply agreed; as soon as the man left, he divided the buns they had bought between his two sons, "Eat more—you go ahead, I'll send someone to help you later."

Pan Yue pushed the buns back, "Father, we've already eaten—these are for you."

"I have no appetite—I'll boil some porridge later. Just eat these."

Thinking of the money they had just withdrawn, Pan Yue no longer refused, took the buns, and split them with his brother.

Pan Yu followed his brother's lead; seeing his elder brother eat, he ate too, "Father, don't worry—we've cleaned stables before, we don't need to beg anyone."

He didn't want his father to beg.

Pan Hong smiled, "Don't worry—your old man won't be mistreated. This is mutual aid; they help us, and we'll help them in return."

But they had just arrived, and were weak; even if they had wanted to seek allies before, they lacked the capital to establish or maintain relationships.

Those people's hands were tight—the money sent by your second brother barely kept us alive here, leaving no surplus to cultivate connections.

Yun's one hundred taels solved our urgent crisis.

As soon as the two boys left, Pan Hong put away the goods they had bought, then slipped out with one hundred copper coins.

This village was called Exile Village, but it wasn't really a village—they were exiled officials and their families, living near the garrison, awaiting orders.

Some married and had children here; the population grew, houses multiplied, and eventually, those still guilty and those pardoned lived mixed together, and over time it became a village.

Called a village, yet it was far larger than ordinary ones, with a huge population, nearly a town.

They depended on the garrison for survival, occupying a corner of the Datong frontier post; similar exile villages existed in many other northern frontier posts.

Our dynasty's laws were strict: one person's crime brought ruin to the entire family, even the whole clan; some offenses even implicated friends, so among those exiled and conscripted, everyone was represented.

In the three months since Pan Hong arrived, he couldn't claim to have fully mapped this area, but he had a general understanding.

As a former Censor, Pan Hong had a good eye for people; carrying his money, he quickly made friends, and when he went out again, two young strongmen walked beside him.

They leaned on Pan Hong's shoulders as they headed toward the Second Battalion's stables, "Brother Pan, don't worry—we've got no other skills, but we've got plenty of strength; if there's more heavy work like this, leave it to us."

Pan Hong sighed, "How can I keep burdening you? We're new here, unaccustomed to the land and water—we must train our skills, or we won't survive."

"That's true—things are fine now, but when autumn harvest comes, and if the northern Tartars descend, we'll have to harvest and haul supplies forward; if we're weak, people will die."

When they reached the stables, the sunset had already appeared on the horizon; Pan Yue and Pan Yu were dragging a large bundle of fodder.

The fodder weighed over a hundred jin; the boys were young and weak, so they pulled together on a single rope.

Though called "cleaning the stables," they also had to chop the fodder for the horses and clear out the manure and soiled straw.

The village head chose this time to notify them precisely to force them to work through the night; the weaker and slower ones might not finish until dawn.

And soon after dawn, they'd have to leave for the fields to harvest wheat.

In a few days, even iron men would be worn to death.

To escape this suffering, either bribe the village head, or find a patron higher than him.

Pan Hong chose the third option.

He wanted to replace the village head.

With the help of the Jin brothers, the three men quickly finished that day's stable duties, returned home in darkness to sleep, then set out the next morning to cut wheat; only after returning from Dong Erli in the late afternoon did Pan Hong turn his steps to deliver the letter himself.

He did not use the Minxin Bureau—he sent it through the postal relay station.

He didn't know how closely he was being watched, but to avoid trouble for the Minxin Bureau, he chose the relay station. Others could send letters to him via the Minxin Bureau, but if he sent letters out through it too, they'd have an excuse to investigate the bureau.

Datong was different from other places—it was a frontier post, and the authorities here were even more tyrannical.

After sending the letter and stepping out of the relay station, Pan Hong sighed, hoping only that Yun would safely receive it.

Pan Hong didn't know that few people were watching him anymore.

After all, he was just a minor Censor; too many court officials had offended Wang Zhen, and many had been demoted or exiled—if the Embroidered Uniform Guard watched every one of them, how could they possibly keep up?

Earlier, they had intensified surveillance only because a Beijing-based Embroidered Uniform Guard officer named Wang Yong had gone missing.

Before he vanished, Wang Yong had visited the Pan household, so the Pans were briefly re-monitored.

But the main focus was on Pan Tao, who was returning to Changzhou; Pan Hong's side was merely checked—confirmed he was still in Datong, obediently serving, and his correspondence showed nothing unusual, so the Embroidered Uniform Guard lost interest.

The watchers on Pan Tao, however, had not left.

A covert agent sat in a teahouse, watching Pan Tao smile broadly as he was escorted out the door; after listening carefully to their conversation, he wrote on a small slip of paper: "On the fourth day, Pan Tao met friend Meng Chun; agreed to teach at Jintai Academy on the eighth day, monthly salary eight taels."

Eight taels monthly—higher than Pan Hong's salary when he was Censor—and Pan Tao, as a teacher, surely earned far more than that.

!. Read

The agent wrote while shaking his head; no wonder Pan Hong had often needed his brother's financial support while serving.

Indeed, far more—when he returned home and drank a sip of water, Pan Tao reported to his mother and wife, "Eight taels monthly, plus two seasonal sets of clothes and shoes each quarter, festival gifts of pastries won't be lacking; most importantly, the academy doesn't restrict teachers to composing examination essays."

Examination essays—the most difficult subject for students; some teachers, to teach them, wrote essays themselves for students to imitate.

Thus, good examination essays were highly valuable; sometimes a single excellent piece could match a teacher's annual salary.

Pan Hong had often written examination essays under his brother's name and sold them for extra income.

Pan Tao's essays weren't as good as Pan Hong's and didn't fetch such high prices, but his side income was still substantial; with this income plus the harvest from their land, their lives quickly recovered.

Pan Lao Tai sighed in relief, "Send your elder brother a small amount first, save the rest, and next year when the weather improves, let Changsheng go see him in person."

Pan Tao planned the same—sending silver drafts and remittances via the relay station wasn't sustainable; only about one-third ever reached his elder brother.

His elder brother hadn't improved much, yet their appetites had grown.

Pan Tao glanced at his wife, then stepped forward to support Pan Lao Tai, "Mother, let me help you back to your room."

Pan Lao Tai wanted to say she wasn't tired, but Pan Tao pressed her arm gently, and she obediently followed him.

Pan Tao whispered to her, "Mother, I received word today—Yun'er is safe and sound."

Old Madam Pan's eyes lit up and she gripped his arm. "Where is she now?"

Pan Tao shook his head. "My friend was only passing along a message for someone else and refused to say anything more. He only said that if the other party wished to keep in touch, they would contact me on their own. When I thought of what makes Yun'er different, I didn't press further. But from the tone of it, she's very safe now and has companions by her side.

Once the fuss dies down in a few years, she should get in touch with us."

Old Madam Pan sighed deeply. "That's fine, then. I always said this child was touched by the divine—different from the moment she was born. Look at our four children: the other three cried and fussed nonstop as toddlers, but she—eat her fill and sleep, wake up and eat, and even when she wet herself she'd only hum twice, well-behaved as could be.

Sure enough, she was touched by the divine."

Pan Tao: "... Was that so? Why do I remember you, Mother, always fretting that this child never made a sound, worried she might be a simpleton?"

Old Madam Pan shot him a sideways glare. "You're remembering wrong."

Pan Tao laughed. "Yes, my son is remembering wrong."

With news of Pan Yun's safety, a weight lifted from Old Madam Pan and Pan Tao's hearts, and they began to settle into life in their hometown in earnest, earning money in earnest.

Pan Yun was also earnestly thinking about ways to earn money.

Ever since that night, she had never seen Pan Gong again.

Her master had suddenly stopped appearing in her dreams, and Pan Yun still wasn't quite used to it.

She was a person who kept her promises; since she'd said she'd build him a temple, she naturally had to begin preparations in earnest.

Lucky number is any digit ending in 6, screenshot to prove it

(End of chapter)