Chapter 30: The Joy That Costs Nothing

The two walked one after the other along the muddy dirt road.

The suspicion that had been dispelled by Shen Jifeng’s stinginess and love for money now sprouted like a seed breaking through the soil, rapidly growing into a small sapling.

The person Wei Xiao was looking for lived at the very end of this dilapidated little alley. To Shen Jifeng, this place could hardly be called a house: a roof supported by four wooden pillars, covered only by a tattered, patch-upon-patch felt tarp, with a few large stones at the corners serving as the base for a makeshift bed of wooden slats.

In the biting winter of Bianjing, where water froze instantly, how had he managed to survive?

"Uncle Ma, I've come to see you," Wei Xiao called out.

Before long, a short, gray-haired old man emerged from within.

"Uncle Ma, it's me, Ma Yao. Do you still remember me?"

Uncle Ma paused for a moment. Upon seeing Shen Jifeng, he caught on and smiled, "Remember, of course I remember."

Shen Jifeng whispered, "You both have the surname Ma; are you kinsmen?"

"No, purely a coincidence."

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Shen Jifeng stated the purpose of her visit.

Uncle Ma looked troubled. "Years ago, Ma Yao tried to persuade me to leave, but I was afraid that if I left, my son would never be able to find his home again. Even if they are buried in foreign lands and become lonely ghosts, they must have a way to return home."

Shen Jifeng immediately understood. The old man had a son who died on the battlefield, and he waited here day after day, hoping to light a path for his son's homecoming.

"Old man, I know a Taoist priest who can summon the Mountain God to perform a rite of passage for your son, so he can be reborn into a good family in his next life. Would you like that?"

Uncle Ma’s hearing was not very sharp, so his voice was louder than others. "There is such a powerful Taoist?"

Wei Xiao let Shen Jifeng prattle on about the little priest. The place was damp and cold, no longer suitable for someone of Uncle Ma’s age to live in. If she could use the opportunity of charcoal burning to take him away, it would be a good deed.

Soon, with her silver tongue, Shen Jifeng coaxed Uncle Ma into leaving the home he had guarded for over a decade. Before departing, Shen Jifeng took one last look at the low, dark slum, locking the image firmly in her mind.

"Uncle Ma, I’d like you to help me burn charcoal; name your price."

Uncle Ma eyed Shen Jifeng’s carriage, knowing this person was no ordinary soul. "I don’t want money. If you can help me hire the Taoist to perform the rite for my son, I will burn charcoal for you for the rest of my life."

Shen Jifeng laughed, "Uncle Ma, I love hearing that. I like things that don't cost me money."

Uncle Ma nodded repeatedly, "Easy, easy."

Shen Jifeng added, "However, a gentleman loves wealth but acquires it through proper means. While I am stingy and hate spending money, I am no scoundrel. A typical charcoal burner in Bianjing earns 70 wen a day. I will pay you two taels of silver a month, including room and board. Provided you don't delay my mine's needs, I’ll give you another ten taels at the end of the year. How does that sound?"

Uncle Ma’s clouded eyes lit up remarkably. In his fifty-plus years, he had only encountered two good things: one was when General Wei had come to him years ago, bringing money and food, a kindness that never ceased. The second was now—a noble person coming to his door, offering to help find a Taoist and providing him with shelter, all for the sake of his charcoal-burning craft. What was this craft, anyway? Anyone with a head on their shoulders could figure it out after a few days of tinkering in the kiln.

"Uncle Ma, I need charcoal for smelting silver. It needs to be low-smoke, high-heat, and low-ash. Is that hard to burn?"

Usually taciturn, Uncle Ma became talkative when the subject turned to charcoal. "Whether the charcoal is good or not depends mainly on the wood. Hardwood naturally produces hot coals."

He gestured toward the weeping willow by the road. "Willow won't do. The charcoal it produces turns to ash in no time. Curled willow, elm, oak, and chinkapin oak are all excellent. To get low-ash charcoal, you must control the kiln temperature and extinguish the fire quickly."

Shen Jifeng didn't know what tree species were on Mount Tianmeng. She knocked on the carriage door and asked Wei Xiao, who was driving, "You're a hunter from Mount Tianmeng; what kind of trees are most common there? Do they have what Uncle Ma mentioned?"

"Uh," Wei Xiao stammered, "They probably all have them. I haven't really paid attention."

For a hunter who roamed the mountains, not knowing what trees were there defied logic. Seeing this, Uncle Ma covered for Wei Xiao, "These kinds of trees look quite similar; ordinary people passing by rarely notice the differences."

The slight suspicion that had just risen in her heart was lightly brushed away by Uncle Ma.

"Uncle Ma, Mount Tianmeng is full of wood, so we won't lack materials. Usually, how long does it take to burn a kiln of charcoal, and how many catties does one kiln yield?"

"Freshly cut wood cannot be used to burn charcoal," Uncle Ma corrected Shen Jifeng. "It’s best to let it season for half a year, or at least three months."

Three months again. Shen Jifeng suspected she was under a three-month curse; no matter what she did, she couldn't escape it.

"Then won't we run out of time?"

"Not necessarily. There are plenty of dead trees in the mountains; we just need to send people to collect them. In such a vast Mount Tianmeng, burning a few kilns of charcoal won't be a problem," Wei Xiao said, giving her a sense of reassurance.

Uncle Ma noticed Shen Jifeng's anxiety about time and quickly added, "Burn for a day, seal for a few days, wait another day—that is the mantra passed down by our old earthen kiln masters. Generally, a kiln takes seven days. I can usually run three kilns at once, two hundred catties per kiln, totaling six hundred catties."

Shen Jifeng was quite satisfied with this figure. In the early stages, the ore output would be low, so she wouldn't need much charcoal. By the time the volume increased, she would have accumulated enough. If it really wasn't enough, she could buy some in Xijing to make up the difference, or have the old man take on an apprentice—that was a solution too.

When they returned to the manor, the steward reported that the Prince of Yan had sent the lead materials and a note for Shen Jifeng.

Shen Jifeng hesitated before opening the note. On it was a line of bold, flamboyant script, and she could feel the Prince of Yan's anger radiating from the paper: "My dear niece, your Third Uncle doesn't care about a mere few hundred taels of silver. Consider it a donation to your great mining enterprise! I hope you keep your word, complete the task soon, and fulfill your grand ambitions!"

*Hehehe!* Shen Jifeng folded the note, smiling so broadly her eyes disappeared. "Saved another thousand taels! Happy! So happy!"

"What's got you so happy? Did you find money?" Prince of Han, Zhao Zhen, lifted the carriage curtain and smiled at Shen Jifeng.

"Fourth Uncle!" Shen Jifeng rushed over like a little swallow finding its mother.

"I fleeced Third Uncle for a bit—not much, just a few hundred taels."

Zhao Zhen jumped off the carriage. "He’s much richer than I am. He doesn't have a wife, doesn't need to support a family—fleecing him is the right thing to do. You should have asked for more."

She hadn't known the backstory before, so she wouldn't have thought much of it, but now Shen Jifeng couldn't help but ask, "Third Uncle is thirty now. Doesn't the Imperial Grandfather push him to get married?"

"He pushes, how could he not? But you can lead a horse to water and you can't make it drink. If he doesn't want to, no one can perform the wedding rites for him."

Zhao Zhen’s words were crude but held truth.

"Didn't the Imperial Grandfather think of any other way?"

Zhao Zhen walked with his hands behind his back, crossing the threshold of the Prince of Qi's manor, his eyes darting back and forth toward Wei Xiao.

"I’ve never seen this young man before. He looks quite familiar."