In the secondary hall of the county office.
The county magistrate, Master Wei, sat in the main seat while Chen Shi occupied the guest position. Secretary Sheng sat to one side, while others, including several victim representatives and Shen Shi, were seated at the lower positions.
Everyone had gathered to discuss the aftermath of recent events.
“Since this matter has fallen onto my shoulders, I, Li Jinshui, won’t shirk responsibility. However, everything must be done properly and legally. After all, the Du brothers are still the main owners of the oil factory, and our Li family has no reason to bear their burden,” Old Manager Li addressed Magistrate Wei.
None present were fools, and everyone understood the implications of Old Manager Li’s words.
“With such a major incident at the oil factory and the Du brothers having fled, the factory no longer belongs to them, and by law, my office should seal it. However, since Du Lüniang is a third shareholder and the Li family is willing to handle the aftermath, the factory should rightfully belong to the Li family,” Secretary Sheng interjected, then turned to Magistrate Wei, “Master, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Indeed, that’s how it should be,” Magistrate Wei nodded.
At this point, Shen Shi timidly spoke up, “But the oil factory… it belongs to my eldest and second sons.”
Those around her looked at her as if she were an idiot.
“Mother…” Du Shi called out through gritted teeth, her eyes reddening.
“You fool, the Li family is helping shoulder your burden. If the factory still belonged to your sons, why would the Li family handle the aftermath? If they don’t, can you handle it? Can you afford it?” Shen Shi’s eldest aunt yanked her sleeve and hissed in a low voice.
This niece of hers was truly muddle-headed, having spoiled her two sons who had now abandoned this mess to their mother, showing no filial piety. Yet she still couldn’t grasp her daughter’s feelings, constantly blaming her. Once her daughter’s heart turned away, who would she rely on?
Those unfilial sons? Dream on.
“Oh, oh, yes, it should belong to the Li family. As long as they handle this matter, the factory is theirs,” Shen Shi finally understood and hurriedly agreed.
With that settled, the rest became easier to handle. They would post announcements, recall the sold oil—which might be useless to others but could still be used by the Li family for making ink—and discuss compensation matters. Though not everyone would be completely satisfied, as long as it was reasonably acceptable, it would suffice. The county office would issue a verdict, and the factory’s ownership would transfer to Li Zhengliang, the Li family’s eldest son.
As for the loans from the pawnshop, with Secretary Sheng mediating, Master Zhu of the pawnshop waived the interest and extended the loan period, allowing the Li family to barely manage. New contracts were drawn up.
Of course, there was some bargaining involved, but we’ll skip those details.
Thus, everything was settled.
What followed would require money to resolve: medical expenses and compensation for poisoning victims, refunds for returned vegetable oil—no small sum, even though the oil could still be used for ink production, but that was a future matter and couldn’t solve immediate problems. Add to that the workers’ wages and other expenses, and the Li family would need to invest a considerable amount.
That evening, Zhao Shi was calculating the family accounts by lamplight, watching their hard-earned savings about to be depleted, her face wrinkled like a bitter gourd. Even this wouldn’t be enough.
“Why hasn’t the eldest son returned yet? I heard he made quite a profit there, but without seeing him, we can’t be certain. We’re counting on his earnings now,” Wu Shi sighed.
Zhenniang wasn’t worried at all. Since her eldest brother had written about making good money, it must be true. After all, the mines she had pointed out were all first-rate old quarries—it would have been strange not to profit from them.
“The journey from Wuyuan is all mountain roads, difficult to traverse. It takes time,” Du Shi said softly.
Zhao Shi coldly snorted upon hearing her voice, and Du Shi could only lower her head, holding little Xiaoguan in silence.
Just then, someone knocked on the door.
“It must be the eldest brother and the others!” Xi’er jumped up excitedly. After all the recent chaos, this boy had become more sensible, staying well-behaved without making mischief.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, but then they heard Xi’er’s disappointed voice: “Oh, it’s Second Aunt, Sister-in-law Jingdong, and Aunt Jinhua.”
“Who did you think it was?” Aunt Jinhua teased Xi’er.
“I thought it was the eldest brother returning,” Xi’er replied.
“Your eldest brother hasn’t returned yet?” Aunt Jinhua asked directly.
“No,” Xi’er answered as the three were led inside.
Zhao Shi and the others hurriedly welcomed them. Zhenniang served tea.
“Don’t fuss, it’s late. We’ll just say a few words before heading back,” Second Aunt Da Huang Shi from the main family line said. Then she handed a money box to Zhao Shi.
“Sister-in-law Jingfu, this is some silver we three families pooled together to help you through this emergency,” Da Huang Shi explained.
“How could we… The medicine shop expenses were already covered by the ink factory,” Zhao Shi said embarrassedly. Earlier that day, Chen Shi had sent the ink factory’s accountant to handle the payments to quiet the crowd at the county office, so the medical expenses were temporarily covered by the ink factory.
“That’s different. This is our gesture, from our dowry money, separate from other matters,” Da Huang Shi explained.
“Very well then, I won’t be overly polite,” hearing Da Huang Shi’s words, Zhao Shi gratefully accepted. Truth be told when the Li family’s eighth branch had been ostracized by the other branches, Zhao Shi had harbored quite some resentment.
Later, when Zhenniang took over the ink factory’s affairs, Zhao Shi verbally agreed but disagreed in her heart, often complaining about the Seventh Madam. But now, with Da Huang Shi’s gesture, her heart warmed to the other branches, and her previous grievances dissolved. She felt that everything Zhenniang had done for the ink factory had been worthwhile.
Knowing the Li family had many matters to discuss, Da Huang Shi and the others took their leave. Zhao Shi saw them to the door, watching until their sedan chairs disappeared into the distance before returning inside.
Zheng Shi opened the money box and weighed the loose silver, along with the five-tael ingots, totaling over one hundred and fifty taels. This was indeed a substantial sum.
“Remember not just the amount, but the sentiment behind it,” Old Manager Li commented.
“Yes,” the others nodded.
“By the way, tomorrow is the Winter Solstice, isn’t it?” Wu Shi counted the days on her fingers.
“Indeed it is. We’ve lost track of the days,” Zheng Shi checked the calendar and nodded.
“Jingkui’s wife, Jingfu’s wife, knead the dough for me. I’m going to make Winter Solstice dumplings tonight. First thing tomorrow morning, we’ll send them to Sixth, Seventh, and Ninth Brother’s families to taste. They haven’t had my Winter Solstice dumplings in many years,” Wu Shi instructed. She then directed Zhenniang to wash the vegetables.
“There are winter bamboo shoots in the kitchen, peel those too,” Wu Shi called out as Zhenniang entered the kitchen.
“Yes!” Zhenniang cheerfully responded. She had heard from her mother about how grandmother’s Winter Solstice dumplings were exceptionally delicious. According to stories, when the families were still close, grandmother often made Winter Solstice dumplings for everyone. But after relations soured, grandmother hadn’t made them for years, not even for their own family—it had been Zhao Shi and the others making them instead.
But today, Wu Shi would personally make them.
That night, nobody except little Xiaoguan slept. Even Xi’er refused to go to bed, pulling up a small stool beside the kitchen counter to watch Wu Shi mince the filling, season it, and wrap the dumplings, all while drooling.
Huizhou’s Winter Solstice dumplings weren’t boiled dumplings—they were large, wrapped in rice flour, and steamed. The skin was soft and chewy, the filling juicy and delicious. The taste lingered long after eating.
By dawn, several steamers of dumplings were ready. Wu Shi had Zhao Shi and the others find food boxes to pack them in.
“Jinhua definitely couldn’t return home last night. Take these to her early so she can bring them for Sixth Brother to taste,” Wu Shi instructed Zhenniang.
“Yes, don’t worry, grandmother, I’ll deliver them,” Zhenniang replied with her mouth full of dumplings, agreeing that grandmother’s Winter Solstice dumplings were indeed as delicious as her mother had described.
After wiping her mouth, she picked up two food boxes, while Xi’er carried one—perfect for the three families—and they set out together.
At the door, since Zhenniang’s hands were full, Xi’er went to open it, but someone pushed it from outside, nearly hitting him. Xi’er immediately shouted joyfully, “Eldest brother is back!”
Hearing that Li Dalang had returned, everyone rushed out.
“What exactly happened at home? I was worried sick when I got the letter,” Li Dalang asked anxiously as soon as he entered.
“Brother, it’s all fine now, as long as you’ve brought money back,” Zhenniang said with a grin.
“Ha! Let me tell you, this time we’ve brought nothing but money,” Cousin Li Zhenshen said from the side. His words were as impressive as the modern saying of being so poor you only have money left.
“How much? How much?” Zhao Shi asked urgently.
“After deducting costs, we cleared over eight hundred taels. Zhenshen and I each get four hundred,” Li Dalang said.
“And that’s not even all of it. We’ve got some top-quality pieces—jade band pattern, colored band pattern, temple red, and superior tea-dust green varieties. We’ve stockpiled them all, waiting for prices to rise before selling,” Li Zhenshen added proudly.
“Those two abandoned quarries—no one expected they’d yield so many inkstones, and of such good quality too. The day we started extracting inkstones, all of Wuyuan was buzzing,” said a man in his thirties who had followed behind Li Dalang and Li Zhenshen.
“Uncle?!” Zhenniang tentatively called out, noticing his resemblance to Zhao Shi.
“Ha, yes, it’s Zhenniang! Good, good, you still recognize your uncle. I used to hold you when you were little,” Zhao Yuanhe laughed.
Zhenniang was embarrassed—she didn’t actually remember. But her eldest brother had written earlier about uncle’s visit, and given his resemblance to Zhao shi, it wasn’t hard to guess.
“Amitabha!” Wu Shi chanted from the side as everyone breathed a sigh of relief. With this money, handling the tung oil incident wouldn’t be a problem.
After chatting briefly with her eldest brother and uncle, Zhenniang took Xi’er to the ink factory, first delivering the Winter Solstice dumplings to the various families.