Chapter Forty-One: Brother-in-law, I’m Afraid of the Dark

“Brother-in-law, I can’t sleep…”

In the moonlight, a small child stood at the doorway, rubbing her eyes and pleading tearfully, “Big Sister isn’t here, and I’m scared of the dark…”

It was the youngest sister, Miaoxiao Fang, only five years old, and she couldn’t understand why, whenever she appeared, her eldest sister and brother-in-law, who had been sitting close together, would immediately distance themselves.

“Be good, Xiaofang. With your brother-in-law and big sister here, there’s nothing to be afraid of!”

With an awkward smile, Zhao Hengyi scooped her up and soothed her gently, “Are you afraid of the dark, Xiaofang? It’s all right—every child is afraid of the dark. I’ll have your big sister put you to bed, all right?”

Miaoxiaoyu’s cheeks were flushed red. She took her little sister from her husband’s arms and made a hasty retreat.

Watching her slender figure disappear and breathing in the lingering fragrance left in the room, Zhao Hengyi touched his nose and let out a silly laugh.

For a woman of the Great Yan, Miaoxiaoyu’s initiative just now was astonishingly bold.

Perhaps it was only because he had just returned from Yonggu City, and Xiaoyu was so overwhelmed with emotion that she dared to ask if he missed her.

But after tonight, having spent all her courage, Xiaoyu would likely never dare be so forward again.

The night passed in silence, and the sun rose as always.

With the coming of a new day, Zhao Hengyi became even busier.

Even with Miaoxiaoyu and the village chief and elders overseeing things, the various projects were only just running smoothly.

Still, everyone was doing well enough; after all, Zhao Hengyi’s plans for the future were so far ahead of their time that the others could hardly understand.

He arranged for workers to start digging at a newly selected kiln site. This time, Zhao Hengyi planned to build three brick kilns, as the upcoming plans would require a great many houses to be constructed.

One lime kiln would suffice, but Zhao Hengyi intended to build a cement kiln as well. Even with bricks, constructing houses by the methods used in Great Yan was still too cumbersome.

He’d been so busy before, with so many things to manage, that he’d completely forgotten about cement, this miraculous building material. Now that it was needed, he finally remembered.

“Hengyi, the people from the neighboring Li Village asked me if they could come here for work.”

The old village chief was now in high spirits, walking tall and speaking with newfound vigor. “Strictly speaking, the money and food from Elm Bay shouldn’t go to the Li Village folk, but they’ve helped us in the past…”

“Uncle Wang, let them come. We have more work than we can handle, and every day we delay is another day we lose money!”

Zhao Hengyi had long felt the lack of manpower, and his recent trip to Yonggu City had left him with a sense of urgency. “They’ll get the same wages as our villagers, but only able-bodied, diligent workers can come, and they must be well-behaved.”

The village chief, Mao Mingwang, nodded, though he was somewhat dissatisfied about paying outsiders the same as their own people.

In his eyes, Zhao Hengyi’s wages were already high enough. It was one thing for fellow villagers, out of his generosity, but letting outsiders earn that money felt like a loss!

“Uncle Wang, Elm Bay will only grow larger, and we’ll need more laborers. Once the people from Li Village start relying on us for their livelihood, who can say where they truly belong?”

Zhao Hengyi smiled persuasively. “After all, they’re just sleeping in Li Village!”

The old chief pondered, then a look of realization dawned, and his spirits lifted.

Even with good relations, Elm Bay, as a settlement of outsiders, had been marginalized among neighboring villages for decades.

After all, most other villages shared a surname and an ancestor, forming tight-knit, exclusive communities.

As chief, Mao Mingwang had long endured the condescension of others. Now, with a chance to absorb another village—one that came to them, no less—the satisfaction was exquisite.

It was a subtle feeling, but one that sent a thrill through his heart.

Following Zhao Hengyi’s lead, the old chief became more decisive, eager to share the good news with Li Village’s chief. But before leaving, he casually mentioned that the toll taken by the bandits to deliver goods to the county town had gone up by half.

It wasn’t that the chief was now careless with money; rather, the bandits who’d been operating in the area for over a decade had never set a fixed price for passage.

The toll varied with each shipment, and in Anyang County’s surrounding villages, copper and silver were rarely seen—grain was the true currency.

Because of this, the old chief wasn’t too sensitive about the tolls, and only mentioned it to Zhao Hengyi in case he found discrepancies when reviewing the accounts.

Already feeling pressed for time, Zhao Hengyi was immediately alert—he sensed that things were not so simple.

Back when Song Ying’an wanted him to have the steward at the Anyang County manor establish a merchant association, so Elm Bay could sell their cloth directly in Jiangling Prefecture, he’d been too busy searching for blacksmiths to make wire mesh, and then had to leave in a hurry on orders, so the idea was shelved.

Meanwhile, since he had gone to Yonggu City with Song Ying’an, and no one else understood how to build the new loom, Elm Bay’s textile workshop hadn’t increased its output. The county market was enough to absorb their goods, so there was no urgent need to organize a merchant caravan to Jiangling.

But after two or three months, who could say if some opportunist hadn’t already set their sights on Elm Bay’s textile workshop?

It seemed far-fetched, but the fate of the Miao family was a lesson in caution—Zhao Hengyi couldn’t afford to be careless.

At that moment, Wang Erhu, full of energy after a night’s rest, came running to announce that the steward from Lord Song’s household had come to visit.

The visitor was a man in his fifties, smiling and genial, lacking any of the arrogance common to the servants of great houses; instead, his courtesy was tinged with a hint of humility.

“My lord, you’ve hardly returned and already a letter from my master has arrived. He instructed me clearly—Song San is to report to you and await your orders.”

Zhao Hengyi had deliberately kept his battlefield ennoblement a secret. Wang Dahu, Wang Erhu, and Zhang Daniu, who’d accompanied him, were all sworn to silence, as were the seventeen veteran soldiers who had yet to join him.

As an elder brother, Song Ying’an understood Zhao Hengyi’s desire to stay low-key. For the steward to address him as “my lord” openly, he must be a trusted confidant.

“Steward Song, you’re too polite. There’s no need for such formality. I’ll be relying on your guidance in the future!”

Though Zhao Hengyi had his own principles, he knew well the ways of the world. He had always believed in returning respect with greater respect, and so would never truly treat Song San as a servant. “As for the title, I hope you’ll refrain from using it. I haven’t mentioned the matter of the Baron of Cangwu County to anyone.”