Transmigrated into a minor official in a county government, with children at home waiting for rice t

Zhang Sanlang got up, picked up the bowl of meat, and turned to walk back to the table. He stumbled, his body swayed, and the meat juices spilled out, splashing half the table.

A few drops splashed onto Zhang's father's sleeve.

"Sanlang!" Zhang's father's expression finally changed.

"Oh dear," Zhang Sanlang looked down at the basin, "it's all dirty."

He looked at Zhang's father, his tone sincere, but his face showed little apology: "Your son is a scoundrel, and he doesn't know his own strength. This meat is already dirty; Father and my elder brother will surely find it unpalatable. Let's throw it away; it's a waste. I'd rather take it with me."

Zhang's father's face turned ashen.

Before he could speak, Zhang Sanlang turned to happy Meier and said, "happy Meier, hold your head high."

happy Mei'er paused for a moment, then quickly glanced at Weng Weng and then at Zhang Sanlang.

Zhang Sanlang winked at her.

She pursed her lips, stepped forward, and steadily picked up the bowl of meat and flatbread.

Qingge slid off the stool and ran to his sister's side, holding the edge of the basin with both hands.

Zhang Sanlang grabbed his wine jug from the table, tilted his head back and took a swig, then put the remaining half jug back on the table.

"This pot of wine is for Dad and my eldest brother. It's good wine, don't waste it."

He took the two children's hands and walked towards the door.

He walked to the door, then stopped and looked back at the mess on the table.

"By the way, Shiro."

Zhang Shouzhi's shoulders stiffened slightly.

"Your couplet uses allusions skillfully, with the bow as full as the moon and the sword as cold as frost. However, the Yinshan Mountains and the vast sea are three thousand miles apart. To put them in one couplet, while the parallelism is perfect, is too elaborate. If the examiner is discerning, he probably won't be impressed."

Zhang Shouzhi opened his mouth in surprise, but couldn't say a word.

Zhang Sanlang pushed open the door.

The early autumn wind blew in, and the jujube tree in the yard was still swaying in the wind, with a few half-green and half-red jujubes falling to the ground.

happy Mei carried the basin of meat with steady steps.

Qingge held the edge of the basin with one hand and held Zhang Sanlang's finger with the other.

"Dad," Qingge'er looked up at his father, "this much meat is enough for us to eat for two days!"

The entire Zhang family home was a traditional courtyard house with a shop in the front and residence in the back. Zhang Shouren used the five rooms facing the street to run his shop. The three main rooms were where Zhang's parents and Zhang Shouzhi lived. There were two rooms each in the east and west wing rooms.

Qingge pointed to the locked room in the west wing and asked, "Dad, will Second Uncle ever come back? I've never seen him before."

Zhang Sanlang shook his head. In his memory, his second brother had left home to study abroad ten years ago. At first, he would occasionally send letters back, but in recent years he had lost all contact with him and didn't know whether he was dead or alive.

Back inside, there wasn't much furniture: a large wooden bed, a low table, and a few old clothes piled in the corner. Most of these clothes were sent by Zhang's mother last year, saying they were leftovers from the eldest son's family. Ximei used them to make a mattress for her younger brother.

Qingge placed the basin on the low table, lifted the cover, and took a deep breath.

happy Mei glared at him, and he shrank back, clutching his stomach as he lay on the bed, his eyes narrowed into slits.

happy Mei'er is always the last one to go to sleep every night.

She needed to check if the door latch was properly secured, if the windows were blocked, and if the embers in the stove were extinguished.

The original owner thought that his daughter was naturally meticulous.

Only now did Zhang Sanlang realize that it wasn't about being attentive; it was about a nine-year-old child having to be mindful of everyone's moods and live on edge every day in this family.

The family of three is crammed into one room, which is fine for now. But in three or four years, when Ximei grows up, they'll need to find another place to live.

He did some mental calculations.

He received a fixed monthly allowance of one string of cash, all of which had to be handed over to Zhang's father. The old man received four or five hundred coins each month, but after deducting normal social obligations and unavoidable entertainment at the government office, he was left with only one or two hundred coins.

The original owner was too honest and rarely had any extra income besides his stipend, which he had to hand over to Zhang's father in full, resulting in him always being short of money...

The wound on the back of his head was still throbbing, and after thinking for what seemed like an eternity, he gradually fell asleep.

The next morning.

Zhang Sanlang pushed open the door and came out. The first thing he saw was two people squatting by the well.

Mother Zhang was fiddling with a long robe. The collar was slightly worn, and the cuffs were stained with ink; it was the robe that Silang had worn back from the prefectural school.

She scrubbed very carefully, rolled up her sleeves, and used her fingernails to pick at the ink mark bit by bit.

My sister-in-law was also there. In front of her was a large wooden basin, soaking my eldest brother's long gown and Bao-ge's change of clothes. She was pounding the stone slab with a mallet, her rhythm even, as if she were grinding something.

Upon hearing the sound, she glanced from Zhang Sanlang's face to the back of his head, her hand still wielding the mallet.

The cloth strip on the back of Zhang Sanlang's head had been replaced with a new one, and it was wrapped more neatly than yesterday. The gray cloth shirt he was wearing had been washed; Xi Mei'er had rubbed it after dinner last night, and the cuffs were still a little damp.

"Third brother, you're up? Why don't you lie down a little longer?" She smiled, the smile on her face but not in her eyes.

"Your elder brother was saying yesterday that the matter at the yamen wasn't urgent and that your health was the most important thing. Look at your face, it's as white as a sheet of paper. If you go out, people will think that our Zhang family has been mean to you."

Upon hearing this, Zhang Sanlang stopped and looked at her.

His sister-in-law seemed a little puzzled by his gaze. She paused for a moment, then continued, "What's wrong? Is what you said incorrect, sister-in-law?"

"Sister-in-law is right."

"Then why are you still standing here? Go back inside and rest." The elder sister-in-law's tone was still the same, warm but with a hint of order, as if she were dismissing an ignorant junior.

"By the way, your older brother said that Ximei is nine years old now and should learn to do some work. It's not that your sister-in-law is being picky, but even though our family isn't poor, the little girl can't just wander around all day."

"When you go to the yamen in the future, have her help out at the front shop, sweep the floor and organize the goods. It won't take much effort."

Zhang Sanlang didn't move. "happy Mei'er gets up before dawn every day. She boils water in the stove, sweeps the dust in the yard, and takes Qing Ge'er to clean the main house inside and out. My sister-in-law probably didn't see any of this work."

The elder sister-in-law's eyes widened.

The club was suspended in mid-air, unable to fall.

Zhang's mother stopped rubbing the clothes. She still held the cuffs of the blouse in her hand, the ink stains from which she had only rubbed were still visible, and water droplets dripped from between her fingers.

"A nine-year-old is slow and clumsy." Zhang Sanlang rolled up his sleeves. "If you think she's in the way, let her only sweep our third room from now on. As the eldest daughter-in-law, you should take care of more of the main house's affairs."

"You!" The elder sister-in-law's face turned bright red, and she slammed the pestle into the basin, splashing water everywhere.

She turned to look at Zhang's mother, "Mother, listen to this! I was only trying to do what's best for Ximei'er. He was so sarcastic and insinuating. What does he take me for? I got up early this morning to wash this whole basin of clothes. What did I get out of it? Just to be insulted to my face by his brother-in-law?"

Mother Zhang placed the apron into the basin. She wiped her hands on her apron, looked at her sister-in-law, then at Zhang Sanlang. Her lips moved twice before she finally spoke.

"Sanlang," she said softly, with a hint of probing, "your sister-in-law meant well..."

"If you really mean well, sister-in-law," he said, pulling down his sleeve, "make a couple more pancakes next time, so that Ximei and Qingge can have a good meal, and then we can talk about food."

The eldest sister-in-law stood by the well, her lips pressed tightly together. She wanted to say something, but after glancing at Zhang's mother, she swallowed her words back.

Zhang's mother picked up the blouse from the basin, then rubbed the ink stain, sighed, and said nothing more.