Chapter Forty-Six: The Third Brother Who Turns Misdeeds into Good Deeds

Wu Ning truly could not comprehend how a person's emotional intelligence could be as low as his Seventh Aunt's.

She had already been back in the village for half a month, and by now, it was no secret that Wu Ning had lent money to his fellow villagers to open guesthouses. Besides Seventh Brother’s family, there were two other households planning to borrow some money from Wu Ning come spring, to renovate their own courtyards—a profit shared is a profit gained by all, after all.

But not Seventh Aunt. Simply put, even if Wu Ning looked down on her, for the sake of Huzi and Seventh Uncle, and even for appearances in the village, if she had just asked, Wu Ning would never have refused to lend a helping hand to her family.

Yet this woman insisted on doing the opposite. She refused to make the big money and instead competed with Wu Ning over the soup stall business. Wasn’t that sheer foolishness?

Moreover, among neighbors, must things really be pushed to such an extreme?

If Wu Ning sold his drinks for four coins, she’d sell hers for three, undercutting him by one. The same with the fermented milk snacks—she’d always set her prices just slightly below his, as if deliberately at odds.

Just last evening, Wu Ning hurried home, and, just as Huzi had warned, his troublesome mother had set up a stall directly opposite his, on the mountain path. She’d even put up a crooked sign—who knew who she’d found to write it—clearly listing her prices, openly stealing his business!

And that wasn’t the end of it. Whenever someone walked down the path, she’d shout at the top of her lungs to attract them. No wonder Huzi hadn’t watched the stall all afternoon—who would, with his own mother competing across the way?

“Auntie!” Wu Ning struggled to keep his anger in check. “If you keep this up, neither of our families will earn anything.”

Seventh Aunt wouldn’t listen. “You sell yours, I sell mine. What, am I not allowed to make a living?”

“...”

“How about this,” Wu Ning tried another approach. “I'll pay to renovate your house into a guesthouse too. You’ll make much more than with this stall.”

“Is it a loan or a gift?”

Wu Ning was speechless. “Of course it’s a loan.”

“Then forget it. My family has never owed anyone money—we can’t sleep with debts hanging over us.”

“...”

Wu Ning was truly furious now. So she was immune to reason and persuasion?

“Fine! Sell if you want!” He stormed home, seething.

He spent the whole night busy, didn’t sleep at all, and at dawn, set out his stall early. He refused to believe he couldn’t deal with one shrew.

A price war was unwise, so he decided to bring out his secret new product instead.

Just as he’d finished setting up, customers started appearing on the mountain path. Casually glancing downhill, Wu Ning stiffened in shock, staring in disbelief at the graceful figure ascending in the distance.

Well now, today was a good day—he’d encountered her as soon as he opened for business.

His eyes grew vacant, and he sat down, waiting for the beauty to approach.

Sighing as he watched her draw nearer, Wu Ning felt a tinge of sadness. When would he ever be able to tell her he wasn’t really blind? And would she kill him if she found out?

He was lost in thought when suddenly, “Jiu Lang!”

Third Brother’s coarse shout startled Wu Ning.

“Come on! Quick, come with me!”

“What for?” Wu Ning was annoyed at the interruption.

“I’m busy!”

He thought he’d better get rid of Third Brother quickly, or he’d risk being exposed.

But, of course, Third Brother wasn’t about to listen. He grabbed Wu Ning. “Busy with what? Come on, Ancestor wants you!”

“No, let go of me—” Wu Ning tried to pull back, but Third Brother dragged him away.

“Look, she’s almost here!” Wu Ning struggled, but Third Brother was relentless.

“Wait, this is important—my whole future is at stake!” Wu Ning strained back, but Third Brother used all his strength to drag him off.

And so, Wu Ning watched helplessly as Qin Miaoniang and Zhao Yue faded into the distance...

———

“Damn it!”

When they arrived at the charcoal plant and Wu Ning saw the pile of glossy black charcoal branches, he was dumbfounded.

“How did this happen?”

Whack!

The old Ancestor gave him a hefty slap on the neck. “You burned it, didn’t you? How can you not know how it happened? Speak! How did you do it?”

The Ancestor had already checked—the kiln contained very little ash, astonishingly little. Less ash meant less wasted material and a higher charcoal yield.

Even more unbelievable, among the charcoal branches and walnut shells, there were even a few leaves—fully carbonized, perfectly black and glossy.

To the Ancestor, this was impossible. Leaves would normally burn in an instant, reduced to ash in the blink of an eye. How had Wu Ning managed to turn them into charcoal?

“Come on, tell us, how did you do it?”

“I don’t know...” After all those days of effort, Wu Ning had finally succeeded, and his joy had already pushed thoughts of Qin Miaoniang aside. But last night’s firing had been rushed, and he wasn’t sure exactly what had happened.

“Go call Wu Li and Wu Qi!”

“Alright!” Third Brother agreed at once and ran off to fetch Eighth and Tenth Brother.

When Wu Li and Wu Qi arrived, they too were stupefied.

“Where did this come from?”

Neither of them could figure out how half a kiln of leaves had turned to charcoal.

“Useless bunch!” the Ancestor roared. “What good are any of you?”

“Don’t get upset, Ancestor!” Wu Ning interjected. “Let’s think this through.”

With that, Wu Ning, Wu Li, and Wu Qi huddled together.

“We ran out of material yesterday, right?”

“Right.”

“So we added half a kiln of leaves, right?”

“Right.”

“The fire was strong.”

“Yes.”

“And we sealed the kiln door much earlier than usual, didn’t we?”

“And the top vent was sealed too.”

“...”

Wu Ning wondered if the leaves Huzi had brought back had made the difference. Their quick burn had raised the kiln’s temperature, and they’d sealed the door before the branches were fully burned through.

So the charcoal...was actually smothered into being?

At that realization, Wu Ning hurriedly told Wu Li to collect more leaves, and Wu Qi to fill half the kiln with the branches brought back last night.

“Wait!” Ancestor called out to Wu Qi. “Weigh them first.”

They carefully weighed out exactly three hundred catties of branches. When the charcoal was done, they’d weigh it again to see the yield.

As for the leaves, the Ancestor couldn’t be bothered.

Wu Ning was dead serious now, elation swelling inside him. To be honest, it might have been just an ordinary kiln of charcoal, but for Wu Ning, it felt different—

Creation?

Yes, perhaps the thrill of creation. From an idea, a possibility, to a pile of real, tangible charcoal he’d made himself. Maybe that was the greatest satisfaction for someone who’d crossed worlds. It felt more real, more fulfilling than making money from the guesthouse.

He carefully repeated last night’s process.

“We’ll know soon enough if it works!”

“What now?” Wu Qi, face smudged with charcoal, was just as excited as Wu Ning.

Wu Ning stared at the kiln. “Now, we wait.”

...

That day, Wu Ning, the three younger ones, the Ancestor, and Third Brother all kept watch by the kiln, eyes glued to it from dawn to dusk.

When night came and the kiln was finally opened, and the glossy black charcoal branches were hauled out, everyone sighed in relief.

The Ancestor was trembling with excitement. “Quick, weigh it!”

Only by knowing the exact yield could the old man truly relax.

And after weighing—

“Huh?”

“Over three hundred catties...”

The Ancestor was uncertain again. “How could there be more than before? Was there a mistake in the weighing?”

...