Learn martial arts? A martial arts genius?
The crowd at the scene chewed over these two words, feeling rather strange.
Such a person didn't seem to belong in Righteous Prosperity City, let alone be associated with someone like Liang Qu.
Who was he? An orphan.
A heavy identity in any era.
Most end up as beggars, quietly starving on some winter's day.
The Liang father and son didn’t have it easy.
Many neighbors still remembered the passing of widower Liang Dajiang.
After his death, they wrapped him in a thin mat, but managed to buy a cheap coffin, giving him a hasty burial on the back hill with a wooden marker.
Liang Dajiang wasn't particularly skilled at fishing.
He left only a decent boat, not even a net, so naturally, his son Liang Qu couldn't be much stronger.
The only somewhat good aspect was Liang Qu's decent looks.
But in these times, no one's going to knock on your door for a handsome boy if he can't even fill his stomach.
Seeing the three brothers embarrassingly fleeing, it seemed there was only one explanation.
The crowd exchanged glances.
They thought Liang Qu's path would be like those of other orphans—either sell oneself or beg.
They never expected it to be so different, like he’d undergone a transformation.
First, he fished remarkably well, bringing home close to a hundred coins worth of catch daily.
Then, he caught a Treasure Fish, no ordinary catch, selling it for twice the price.
It now seemed the money from the fish went into learning martial arts.
Reading and practicing martial arts have always been the two best paths for ordinary people to rise above.
Reading we won't discuss for now, but martial arts, while not distant, seemed an unattainable legend.
No one in their hometown ever achieved anything significant through martial arts.
Those who went to learn martial arts never returned to claim river mouths for themselves or farm more land, nor catch two nets of fish.
It was just money wasted.
However, Liang Qu seemed to make something of it.
Regardless, reaching this point proved Liang Qu was different from the ordinary folk.
Some people started to flatter him.
"Ah Shui has done well. He’s going to be a master someday."
"When you’re a Martial Master, don’t forget us neighbors."
"That’s right! When you’re a Martial Master, I’ll let my son learn from you!"
Liang Qu listened to everyone without showing much joy, simply claiming his good fortune.
He revealed his martial arts practice just to deter the troublemakers from coming often.
Thus, he provided two pieces of information:
First, I have no money.
It’s all spent on martial arts and tuition fees.
Second, I have talent in martial arts.
If you want to trouble me, think twice.
Of course, there was another purpose.
As his changes grew more noticeable, he wanted the explanation to be his martial arts practice.
If asked why others didn’t show the same change, the answer was simple: did they have the exceptional talent he did?
Planting this seed of extraordinary talent right from the start, let things be more outrageous later, and they won’t seem sudden.
After the crowd dispersed, Liang Qu returned home, moved the rice jar, and dug out the silver buried in the dirt.
Seeing it was all there, he sighed in relief.
The autumn tax was due soon, and he dreaded being without money.
Fortunately, thanks to the Unified Tax Reform and Equalized Tax Reform, it was simple for fishermen to pay—one tael of silver for each adult man.
However, since silver purity varies, and standards adhere to government silver, there was a discrepancy called wastage.
This wastage was naturally the commoners' burden, officially paying about a tael and three maces.
At sixteen years and above in Great Shun, technically Liang Qu was still a few months shy.
But everyone knew, a few months short, even half a year, you were “sixteen.” Unfortunately, under the Unified Tax Reform, one should just pay silver, but the prefectures around Jianghuai Marshlands still demanded grain to supply the capital.
Thus, he needed to buy rice quickly, for fear of rising prices.
After setting his plans, Liang Qu pocketed the money and pulled out a branch to draw a chart on the ground, beginning his practice.
The next morning, he took the silver early to the rice store, finding many people also buying rice.
Entering through the main door, he saw a long counter and several rice bins next to it, with substantial grain for display.
If buying a small amount, one could take it directly.
For larger amounts, it was fetched from the storage.
Behind the counter, the shopkeeper fiddled with an abacus, drawing with a brush.
Seeing someone enter, he glanced up but continued his work.
Liang Qu's clothing was shabby and didn't reflect wealth, so the shopkeeper wasn't inclined to serve.
“Here, take it. Thirty-six coins in total. Pay at the counter,” called a clerk, hurriedly attending after assisting another customer.
Liang Qu surveyed the grains: fine rice, brown rice, poorer quality rice, glutinous rice, and sweet potato.
However, none had price labels.
“How much for fine rice per jin?”
“Ten coins per jin.”
“So expensive? Wasn’t it nine coins per jin not long ago?”
The clerk smiled, “It’s the autumn tax season. Many are buying rice to avoid hard labor. Prices change daily. Wait a couple more days, and it might hit eleven or twelve.”
Such rapid fluctuations explained the lack of price tags, thought Liang Qu.
“Can’t it be any cheaper?”
"Well…”
The shopkeeper set his brush down, lifted his head, and spoke plainly, “Prices are like this everywhere now. Buy it if you want. If not, make room for others. The store space is limited.”
Liang Qu felt his eye twitch, half-minded to take off a shoe and hit him, but with only one rice store in Righteous Prosperity City, offending them meant trekking to Peaceful Sun Town to buy.
Carrying over a hundred and fifty jin of rice for miles would exhaust him.
Hiring a cart would be a needless expense.
Additionally, it may not even suffice.
If they shortchanged, they might calculate a stone as just seven dou, needing to buy one and a half stones to be safe again.
To be wealthy was truly to be reckless.
Not wanting to quarrel over money, Liang Qu continued, “A stone and a half using silver then, how much?”
“A stone and a half.” The shopkeeper calculated with his abacus, “That’ll be one tael and six maces.”
Liang Qu did some mental math.
Haggling wasn’t his skill; he usually heard the price, assessed it, and decided.
One tael and six maces for a stone and a half seemed fair.
“Alright, one tael and six maces.” Liang Qu pulled out his money pouch.
A clerk reached for it, but Liang Qu evaded. “Does the rice store provide home delivery?”
“Where do you stay?”
“Right in Righteous Prosperity City.”
“Of course, we do.”
“Good, move the rice then.” Liang Qu handed over the money confidently, not fearing any tricks.
Here in the ancient times, the one thing commendable was how shops wouldn’t deceitfully trick local customers.
Their bullying was straightforward, like at the fish market—what you'd pay was what they demanded, without hidden ploys.
Survival depended on it, given the low mobility in these areas.
Once the rice was settled at home, Liang Qu bought two baskets for storage, a bedding set, two sets of clothes with two pairs of cloth shoes, a good fishing net, a bar of soap, a boar bristle toothbrush, and some tooth powder, depleting his silver.
Carrying the quilt and a bundle of goods, Liang Qu mused over how fast money slipped away.
It was just daily necessities, yet more than a tael vanished.
Yet holding the fluffy quilt, he was sure of one thing: tonight, a good night's sleep awaited him. (End of chapter)