Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life-Chapter 66: Good News? No, Bad News

The morning at Fu An Inn began with a loud sneeze from the next room.

Su Ming sat cross-legged on the bed, slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, and finished a night of practicing the Aura Concealment Art.

On the table sat their breakfast: two rock-hard wheat cakes and a small dish of pickled vegetables.

“Our family dog eats better than we do.”

Zhao Rui lay listlessly over the table, prodding a wheat cake with his chopsticks, his face the picture of utter despair.

Ever since Su Ming set their daily spending limit at fifty wen, his standard of living had plummeted from the clouds into the mud.

“Save it. That dish of pickles has to last three days.” Su Ming split a wheat cake and chewed expressionlessly.

“Three days?” Zhao Rui’s wail changed tone, “Su Ming, are you trying to starve me to death so you can swallow the forty taels of silver my father gave me?”

Su Ming didn’t even lift an eyelid. He opened the County Records of Qingzhou that Xu Qing had gifted him and read with interest.

“Disciple, ignore him.” Lin Yu’s voice sounded in Su Ming’s head, lazily just awake, “These greenhouse flowers need a hailstorm of reality to know what human hardship really is.”

(internal aside, amused: “But really, those wheat cakes do look rock-hard. Back in my day when I ate instant noodles, at least there was a little sausage.”)

At that moment, downstairs the inn assistant’s impatient shout came: “Room at the end of the second floor, here’s a letter for you!” On their second day staying here, Su Ming had asked Old Qian to help send a message home to let the family know they were safe.

A letter?

Su Ming’s heart stirred.

He hurried downstairs. A man in a short jacket, dust covering him, handed an envelope to the assistant. The man was from Su Family Village, occasionally driving a cart to town to sell mountain goods.

“Su Shan’s kid? Your second brother asked me to bring it.” The man grinned when he saw Su Ming, showing a mouth of yellowed teeth.

Su Ming took the letter and passed over a few copper coins. “Thanks, uncle. Have a bowl of hot tea.”

Back in the room, Zhao Rui immediately crowded in, poking his head over curiously.

The envelope was made from the coarsest grass paper, the handwriting crooked, carrying a familiar feel.

Su Ming opened the letter and skimmed it quickly.

It was written by his second brother, Su Yang.

The content was simple, yet made Su Ming’s heart skip a beat.

The letter said a big merchant from the south named Chen had come to the village. That merchant saw their improved new paper, made a decision on the spot, bought up all the workshop’s stock, and paid in shining silver!

The village exploded with excitement; everyone received a large sum of money. Zhao Dequan decided on the spot to expand the workshop so more people could be employed.

At the end of the letter, Su Yang wrote in a tone that was both excited and slightly uneasy: “Third brother, our family has money now! Mother and Father told me to tell you not to be stingy in town, buy whatever you want! But… it seems word of our paper-making got out; even the county clerk sent someone to ask about it…”

“What does it say?” Zhao Rui couldn’t help asking.

Su Ming folded the letter silently and tucked it into his chest.

“Nothing much, just a family safety report.”

“Hah, stingy.” Zhao Rui snorted.

Su Ming didn’t answer. He stared quietly out the window.

The letter in his chest brought no warmth; instead it felt like a red-hot branding iron.

“Master…”

“I see it.” Lin Yu’s voice was more serious than ever, “Trouble’s here, disciple. Big trouble.”

“A tall tree in the forest invites the wind to break it. Possessing a treasure invites blame, unchanged through the ages.”

“That Zhao Dequan was too naive. He thinks this is a blessing? He’s setting the whole Su Family Village on the fire! A remote mountain village suddenly producing low-cost paper comparable to xuan paper—people of weight don’t see it as a technical breakthrough, they see it as a greasy chunk of meat!”

(internal: “Damn, damn, Plan A of ‘play it safe and develop quietly’ has failed, forcibly into Plan B of ‘survive by jumping into the tiger’s mouth.’ I hate Plan B the most! Too many variables, too risky!”)

Su Ming drew a deep breath and suppressed the turmoil in his chest.

He stood, grabbed his bundle. “Let’s go out.”

“Where to? Fu Lai Restaurant?” Zhao Rui immediately perked up.

“To Xu Qing’s place.”

…

“Brother Xu.”

Xu Qing looked up and, seeing Su Ming, twitched the corner of his mouth.

“There’s something definite now.” Su Ming lowered his voice, “My second brother sent a letter. The new paper has been trial-produced. The next batch should be delivered to town.”

Xu Qing’s hand tightened on his pen. A burst of joy lit his eyes. “Really?!”

“Mm.” Su Ming nodded. “When it comes, I’ll be the first to bring some to you.”

“Su Ming, thank you!” Xu Qing said solemnly; he understood how weighty those words were. This wasn’t just paper—it was the foundation for him and his father’s livelihood.

Zhao Rui yawned impatiently by their side, uninterested in their secretive conversation.

After leaving the bookstall, Zhao Rui finally couldn’t hold back. He grabbed Su Ming’s sleeve and was almost pleading: “Su Ming, I beg you, let’s go eat one meal, just one. I’m dying of hunger! I know a teahouse called Tian Xiang Pavilion; their crab roe buns are unmatched!”

Su Ming looked at his pitiful expression and remembered the burning letter in his chest.

Maybe, in the busiest place in town, he could hear something different.

“Just this once.”

“Great!”

Tian Xiang Pavilion was Qingshi Town’s most upscale teahouse, with carved beams and painted rafters; patrons were almost all wealthy.

Su Ming and Zhao Rui, wearing half-worn scholar shirts, looked completely out of place at the entrance.

A waiter gave them a sidelong glance. If not for the fact that Zhao Rui’s thin cotton garment looked of slightly better quality, they would likely have been shown the door.

They were led to a small table in a corner of the main hall.

Zhao Rui excitedly ordered a basket of crab roe buns and a pot of top-grade Longjing tea, then behaved like Liu Laolao entering the Grand View Garden, looking around at everything.

Su Ming remained composed, but his ears quietly pricked up as he unobtrusively activated the Listening to Sounds technique.

The surrounding clamor was filtered; some intentionally lowered voices came through clearly.

“Have you heard? Second Master of the Zhou family has hooked up with the county captain.”

“Which Zhou family?”

“Which other? Zhou Yulin’s. That second uncle of his, Zhou Kang, is not someone to be trifled with.”

Su Ming’s heart sank slightly.

Just then, a voice from the neighboring table carried a mix of frivolity and arrogance—loud enough that half the hall could hear.

“What lousy paper, really worth making such a fuss over? It’s just some country bumpkin nonsense. How could it compare to the ‘Jade Xuan’ we bring from the prefectural seat?”

The speaker was a young master in a dark blue patterned silk jacket, pale-faced but with a cruel glint in his eyes. He was surrounded by well-dressed attendants who chimed in.

“Master Wei speaks the truth! Those country rubes can barely read a few characters, and now they claim to make paper?”