Ch 31: The Farmer Ger in the Apocalypse

Shen Qing thought carefully—his family needed a legitimate business, one that wouldn’t appear too sudden or abrupt. It would be best to start small and gradually expand, allowing those around them to slowly accept their growing wealth.

The human heart was the most unpredictable thing. When one was poor, people’s sympathy and help were genuine. But if one became rich overnight, envy and jealousy would follow, not to mention the many troubles that could arise later.

As for what kind of business to pursue, Shen Qing had gained a lot of knowledge from his time in both the post-apocalyptic world and the county town. He now had plenty of ideas.

First, food was a necessity in any era, and the food business was always viable—as long as one had good skills. If capital was limited, he could do as he had discussed with Miao Xing and Miao Wang: make mantou and stuffed buns to sell at the docks. With hard work and high volume, he could earn a decent sum.

If he had more capital, he could set up a street stall or even rent a small shop. Even in the apocalypse, people were selling street food—tiny storefronts selling tofu pudding, fried tofu, and bean curd sheets; pushcarts selling coarse grain pancakes or savory pancakes. No matter how dire the times, there were always rich people willing to spend. These stalls had plenty of customers, proving the saying: “A skilled craftsman never starves.”

Then, there was the option of looking at his own resources. Many post-apocalyptic shops sold random items, operating more like scavengers under the names of ability-user teams. Like Song Kaiji’s small stall, whatever they found on missions, they would sell. Such businesses often weren’t very profitable, but that wasn’t an issue for Shen Qing—his goal wasn’t to make money but to “launder” it. Even if the business barely broke even or ran at a slight loss, it didn’t matter. He just needed a cover, a way to justify using the wealth he obtained from the apocalypse. As long as he claimed he was making money, who would dare to check his books?

The advantage of this type of business was that he could sell whatever he had, without worrying about sourcing inventory. Right now, what he had the most of was gold, silver, and various jewelry. However, he knew nothing about these items, nor did he have a trustworthy and knowledgeable person to run the shop. That’s why he had been frequenting the Ruyi Pavilion in town—to secretly learn.

Besides, explaining his supply chain would be difficult. While jewelry could be a future option, for now, it wasn’t ideal as his primary business.

Then, there were things readily available in the apocalypse but absent in his world—or rather, things monopolized in his world but easy to obtain in the apocalypse.

This category was vast. In ancient times, skills were livelihoods, kept secret to prevent competition. The more people knew, the more the profits were divided—hence the saying: “Teach a student, starve the master.” Market resources were limited, so craftsmen guarded their trade secrets fiercely.

This secrecy extended from carpentry and textile dyeing to cooking recipes and paper-cutting designs. Every craft could be monetized and passed down as a family trade.

Even accepting apprentices was a strict process. A student had to serve as a servant for years—hauling water, chopping wood, caring for children, even cleaning latrines—before learning anything valuable. And if an apprentice had the misfortune of being under a stingy master, they might never be taught real skills. Many gave up after years of hardship, making all their suffering pointless. Learning a trade was as arduous as a daughter-in-law enduring years to become the head of the household.

Modern times were different. With tutorials, online courses, books, and social media, once-secret crafts were now widely shared. Although the apocalypse had caused network failures, making digital resources scarce, physical books and manuals were still accessible.

After much thought, Shen Qing realized that combining the first and third options would be ideal. After getting familiar with Song Kaiji, the man had treated him to a few post-apocalyptic dishes—foods that Shen Qing had never seen before, at least not in Anping County, yet they were incredibly delicious!

Shen Qing made a list of these foods and asked Song Kaiji to find recipes for him. His plan was to take these ideas to the Miao family and discuss a joint business venture.

He wanted to include his uncles not just to help them prosper but also because his own household lacked manpower. Only now did he truly understand why large families were preferred. Having independence was nice, but when things got busy, there was no one to help.

Miao Shi wasn’t in good health, and Shen Qing didn’t want her to overwork herself. Meanwhile, he needed to travel frequently to the post-apocalyptic world, sometimes staying there for an entire day. If he was going to start a business with trustworthy people, the Miao family was the best choice.

He wasn’t worried about them refusing—right now, they were in desperate need of money! His eldest cousin, Miao Ren, was already engaged, but the wedding was scheduled for next winter. Typically, engagements lasted less than a year, as the groom was expected to send gifts and help with farmwork for his future in-laws. The longer the engagement, the more expensive it became.

No one wanted to keep spending money on betrothal gifts. The sooner they could marry, the better.

The reason Miao Ren’s wedding was delayed was that the bride’s family insisted on a new house before she would marry in. However, the Miao family couldn’t afford to build one right away.

This wasn’t unreasonable—just practical. The Miao family’s house was a typical farmhouse with three main rooms and two side wings, built with quality bricks and tiles. It was constructed when Miao Shi’s father was still alive.

After Miao Shi and her sister got married, Miao Xing took the east wing, Miao Wang took the west, and the main house remained with Old Lady Miao.

Now, Miao Xing and his wife had two sons and a daughter, yet they only had two rooms. One room was for the couple, the other for their two sons. Their daughter, Qiao Niang, shared a room with Miao Wang’s daughter, Xue Niang, in the west wing.

Space was already tight! If they didn’t build a new house, they’d have to split one of the brothers’ rooms in half for Miao Ren and his wife. But that would be too cramped, and a new sister-in-law wouldn’t want to squeeze in with her husband’s younger brothers.

Meanwhile, Miao Wang’s eldest son, Miao Yu, was already fifteen and would soon need a dowry.

Given these financial strains, how could the Miao family refuse a money-making opportunity?

Shen Qing placed a piece of braised pork knuckle into Miao Shi’s bowl and said, “I’ve found a shop in town, in the northern district. The location is a bit out of the way, but it’s close to the city gate. It has four storefronts, a two-story building, and a three-courtyard compound in the back—all for just 180 taels of silver. We can run the business from there, and if it’s too big, we can partition it and either rent it out or hire a manager to run another trade.”

Recently, his frequent trips to town had drawn attention. Changing outfits in the woods wasn’t safe. Buying property would solve multiple problems.

Miao Shi secretly marveled—“just” 180 taels! A few months ago, she wouldn’t have dared to dream of owning a house in their village, let alone in town. But times had changed, and she wasn’t one to hold back. “It’s up to you. The converted silver is all stored in the cabinet.”

Disguising himself as a wealthy nobleman had been convenient for one thing—exchanging his fragmented silver into standardized silver ingots. The silversmith’s clerks were now familiar with him. Unlike the suspicion he had faced at the pawnshop, his current persona made the transactions smooth. They didn’t question why he frequently converted silver; instead, they assumed he was simply a rich young master who disliked handling small change.

As mother and son spoke, there was a sudden knock on the door.

“Qing Ge’er’s mother, is Qing Ge’er home? The village chief is calling for a meeting—he wants Qing Ge’er to join the discussion!”

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