Chapter 21: Original Sin

Don’t underestimate this detail. When real silver is constantly clinking and shifting before everyone’s eyes, it’s impossible not to notice—even if you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t. Naturally, people start to think… Oh, he’s collecting money again. Damn, collecting money again? After so many times? How much has this kid made by now?

A quick calculation and people can figure out his rough earnings. And then, little schemes begin to grow in their hearts…

This kid, he’s making that much in a single day?

The villagers are honest folk—when trouble befell Li Mu’s family, everyone gave what they could, be it money or effort, and there was nothing fake about their goodwill. But at the same time, Li Mu knew all too well that everyone’s heart harbors a darker side… I can feel pity for you, but if you start living better than me, well, that’s when I start to feel uneasy.

Envy is, after all, one of the original sins.

On this point, Li Mu always felt Uncle Ninth handled things well. Everyone knew Uncle Ninth was a martial man and quite wealthy, but look at Aunt Ninth’s home—her food, clothing, and daily needs are no different from any other villager’s. Aunt Ninth spends her days washing clothes, cutting pigweed, just like any woman in the village.

Even Uncle Ninth himself—everyone calls him “Old Ninth,” and he never minds. He greets everyone with a smile, and even treats “children” like Li Mu himself with the same even hand, never looking down on anyone.

Yet, if they ever went to the county town, some of those local bigwigs who the villagers regard with awe might well bow respectfully and call Uncle Ninth “Master Ninth”… who could say?

Li Mu knew it was only a matter of time before others grew envious of his success, but he wanted to delay that moment as much as possible. He understood that his business was only booming because he was riding the first wave of opportunity—miss that, and once others started to imitate him, his profits would naturally shrink.

Once he was no longer alone at the top, he wouldn’t stand out so much anymore…

…

…

“Is the hoof-trimming business really that good? I’ve seen a bunch of outsiders at the gate, all waiting their turn.”

No matter how cautious Li Mu tried to be, a roaring business can never escape the notice of the watchful. At this moment, just a dozen meters from Aunt Ninth’s courtyard, two men squatted by the roadside, watching the bustling crowd gathered to see Li Mu trim hooves and whispering to each other.

When villagers passed by and saw these two, they’d instinctively frown, shake their heads, and detour a little, unwilling to come too close. Outwardly, nothing showed, but in their eyes was a trace of annoyance.

As mentioned before, the Li Family Village wasn’t without its loafers—men who did nothing all day but idly stir up trouble.

These two were just such men.

One was thin and wiry, with high cheekbones and a beady, shifty look. He wore a patchy mustache and a prominent mole on his upper lip, from which a single coarse hair sprouted.

Few remembered his real name—everyone called him “Li Twenty-Seven.”

At this moment, he was twirling the hair on his mole between his fingers, narrowing his eyes as he watched the distant Ninth Uncle’s house.

“I’ve been watching these past two days and done a rough count. You wouldn’t believe it—just yesterday alone, that kid must have made at least seven taels of silver.”

He clicked his tongue, his small eyes glimmering with envy.

“What? That much?!”

The other man’s eyes widened.

He was much bigger and more muscular than Li Twenty-Seven, his skin sallow and his features more solid—square nose, square face. But his eyebrows were so thin, it almost looked as if he had none at all, lending him a certain reckless, foolish air.

Especially now, with his face full of shock and his wide-eyed stare, he seemed both rash and dim-witted.

Few called him by his real name either; everyone in the village called him “Li Thirty-Eight.”

Clearly, Li Thirty-Eight was shocked by what Li Twenty-Seven had said.

Seven taels of silver…

That was more than most villagers could earn in half a year.

And this kid had made it in a single day?

“That’s probably on the low side—today’s likely even more.”

Li Twenty-Seven clicked his tongue again.

Li Thirty-Eight’s eyes were tinged red with greed. Suddenly, he glanced around and muttered, “How about we…”

A fierce glint flashed in his eyes.

“Are you crazy?” Li Twenty-Seven startled, hurriedly scanning their surroundings to be sure no one was paying attention, before whispering, “Don’t you know whose house he’s staying at now? Li Ninth! Are we the sort who can afford to provoke him?”

At the mention of Li Ninth, the greed in Li Thirty-Eight’s eyes faded instantly, replaced by a look of fear.

He clicked his tongue in frustration, grumbling, “So we just sit here and watch him make money?”

“With Li Ninth backing him, what can we do?”

Li Twenty-Seven was frustrated too.

But with Li Ninth’s protection, and being in the village, what could they do?

Some people are like that—watching others make money pains them more than losing their own.

…

…

In the blink of an eye, another two days passed.

In a total of five days, Li Mu’s earnings were astonishing.

The first day brought five taels, seven coins.

The second day, a full seven taels, nine coins.

On the third, income dropped a bit to six taels, two coins.

The following two days, he made between six and seven taels each day.

In just five short days, Li Mu had made over thirty taels.

In other words, in five days of trimming ox hooves, he’d made the equivalent of nearly the value of a large ox…

But by this point, his daily income could hardly rise any higher.

The reason? A matter of “capacity.”

He was skilled by now, but at most he could trim the hooves of about twenty head of livestock per day. Any more, and he simply couldn’t keep up.

Limited capacity meant limited income.

And not every animal had damaged hooves—regular maintenance brought only a coin per animal.

If all he did was regular work, he’d be lucky to make just over two taels a day.

Still, this was far above the average villager’s earnings.

A man with a cart might haul goods at the docks for a whole day and earn only a few dozen copper coins—there was a lot of competition, and the dock gangs took their cut. Earning those few dozen coins was already considered good.

If you were careful with expenses, it could feed and clothe a family for several days.

And selling fish or chopping wood brought even less—in those trades, the fishmongers and charcoal sellers took their share as well.

But Li Mu… for now, no one was taking a cut from him.

Yet even so, by the fifth day, Li Mu keenly sensed a new look in the eyes of some villagers when they saw him—something different, something more.

Clearly, his earlier worries had not been groundless.

“This is probably enough,” he thought to himself.

So the next day, while settling accounts, he asked those coming for hoof-trimming to pass word in their villages: starting tomorrow, no need to come to Li Family Village—he would go from village to village himself.

“All the neighboring villages have plenty of work every day. If folks have to travel back and forth for just this, not only do the animals suffer, a lot of other business gets delayed too.

“Since everyone trusts me, I may as well make the rounds myself. Please let everyone in your village know—if anyone needs their livestock’s hooves trimmed, just wait in the village. Starting tomorrow, I’ll go from one village to the next, so folks don’t have to trouble themselves making the journey.”