Selling Oneself

A man might have ambitions soaring to the heavens, but without fortune, he could never rise on his own.

Meng Yuan had been transported here for a month already. He had spent all that time fleeing famine and had not eaten a single full meal.

He did not know much about this world either. Only a few days ago, when he had burned books for warmth in a ruined house, had he discovered that the writing was the same as in his previous life, though the dynasties and history were different.

This place was called the Qing Kingdom, founded nearly five hundred years ago and now tottering in wind and rain.

This world had great masters of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism, demons that could devour an entire city, and sword immortals without equal beneath heaven.

Meng Yuan had arrived in this world with nothing to rely on. There was only a strange spark of essence-fire within him. He did not know where exactly it was, but whenever he focused his thoughts, he could sense it.

Because he had spent these days fleeing famine, weak and exhausted, the essence-fire had fed him in return. Yet it was also dwindling, having shrunk into a mere pinpoint flame.

Now that he had eaten a bowl of hot tofu, warmth surged through his body, and the flame grew slightly stronger.

This essence-fire was bound to his own well-being. As long as he remained unharmed, it could draw nourishment from his food and slowly grow.

He simply did not know how large this essence-fire could grow, nor what use it would have when that time came.

But Meng Yuan knew that everything was difficult now. First, he needed to secure a full meal; only then could he think about nurturing the essence-fire.

"Starting out with nothing but a bowl—I might as well weave mats and sell sandals!" Meng Yuan sighed. Seeing Old Man Jiang and his granddaughter still eating with their heads down, he simply picked up his empty bowl and asked the stall owner for another bowl of hot tofu broth.

Holding the bowl and sipping the hot water, Meng Yuan struck up a conversation with the vendor.

He had no skills, no distant relatives, and no money. As a young man with none of the three who was unwilling to sell his backside, he could only sell his strength.

This place was called Songhe Prefecture, bordering the Canglang River, where water transport flourished. Perhaps he could find some temporary work at the docks.

But after asking around, he learned that rainfall had been scarce this year, and the Canglang River's water level had fallen. There were already few boats in winter, which meant even fewer jobs.

There was not even enough dock labor for the locals, and the Cao Gang was not hiring. If outsiders took private jobs, getting beaten up would be the least of it.

As for eating military rations, one had to pay money first.

After thanking the shopkeeper, Meng Yuan left the alley with Old Man Jiang and his granddaughter, heading together toward the city gate.

There was an open space outside the city gate. Many people had stalks of withered grass tucked into their hair, while quite a few slave brokers came and went, making inquiries.

The first to be chosen were naturally craftsmen and able-bodied young laborers, followed by women and children. The old, weak, sick, and disabled were wanted by no one.

Selling sons and daughters, becoming slaves, pawning off wives—such sights were everywhere.

And times like these were different. The rich, the brokerages, and the government were all in collusion. Not only did selling oneself bring little money, but the contracts were usually lifelong ones.

In years of disaster, life was hard, and common folk were no more than grass and straw. That was more or less how it was.

"Brother, want a wife? Pay up, and she goes with you!" A slave broker grabbed Meng Yuan.

"Brother, I'm here to sell myself too. Look carefully," Meng Yuan said.

"Then will you sell for two coins of silver?"

"Am I cheaper than pork?"

"What do you think?"

Meng Yuan was speechless.

Seeing this, Old Man Jiang took hold of Meng Yuan and comforted him. "Let's not be anxious. This old man has a family trade. I guarantee we'll find a way to live."

After asking, Meng Yuan learned that Old Man Jiang's so-called trade was actually that of a gelding craftsman—castrating pigs, sheep, chickens, and ducks. He also knew how to select horses and treat livestock.

That truly counted as a skilled trade.

"I reckon it'd be best if the three of us stayed together. We could look after one another, couldn't we?" Old Man Jiang said with complete sincerity.

Meng Yuan thought it over. Copying poems and books was far too distant a prospect in this world, so he might as well first learn a trade from Old Man Jiang. Today he castrated cattle and sheep; who was to say that tomorrow he could not castrate the whole world?

After the two reached an agreement, they grabbed some snow to wash their faces and found an old female broker together.

"In times like these, your gelding trade isn't exactly in demand, and you've got a family in tow. I'm afraid you won't fetch much," the old female broker said. Clearly experienced, she began by bluffing them to drive down the price. Then she tugged Meng Yuan toward a corner and said, "Young man, you're quite handsome. Let me measure your goods. If your capital is sufficient, the noble ladies will be scrambling for you!"

As she spoke, the old female broker actually reached down to grope him.

The Great Qing had been founded through martial strength, and its people were fierce by custom. Women held high status as well; appearing in public was commonplace, and some even kept male concubines.

Meng Yuan was terrified. He had not expected that after barely saving his backside, another part of him would be targeted. He hurriedly shielded his crotch and only then managed to preserve his innocence.

"Fine, no such fortune for you!" The old female broker did not force the matter. She led the three of them to the courtyard of a single-story house. Before they entered, she called out, "Steward Liu! There's an old gelding craftsman and a little gelding craftsman here, and they know how to tend cattle and horses too. Everyone outside is fighting over them, but I had them wait and brought them to you first for inspection!"

Lifting the heavy door curtain, they saw a middle-aged man in a long robe seated beside a brazier, with another six or seven people standing nearby.

A thick-bottomed iron pot sat atop the brazier, tofu and pickled vegetables sizzling inside and giving off a fragrant smell.

The middle-aged man picked up a piece of scalding tofu, took a sip of warm wine, and only then looked over. "You've tended cattle and horses? Have you cared for Deer Sheep?"

"I've cared for all of them, and I can even draw Deer Blood! Raising cattle and sheep, tending horses, delivering offspring, breeding them—I can treat them when they're sick too! I've lived among livestock since I was little! I can castrate pigs and geld sheep; I've done it all my life!" Seeing that this man cut an impressive figure, Old Man Jiang bent at the waist and kept praising himself.

The middle-aged man gave no response, merely stirring the hot tofu in the pot. Then a long-faced man asked several questions about caring for cows after they gave birth.

Old Man Jiang answered every one.

Only after the long-faced man nodded did the middle-aged man ask again, "These two are with you?"

"Yes, sir." Old Man Jiang bent low and squeezed out a smile. "This is my granddaughter, and this is the grandson-in-law she's betrothed to! The boy is capable too. He's carried buckets of manure since childhood and can endure hardship better than anyone!"

This was what Meng Yuan and Old Man Jiang had agreed on. They would claim the three were one family: the old man had a trade, the young man was in his prime, and while the girl appeared to be a burden, she could bind the adults to the household. She would not consume much grain, and she would also put their master at ease.

Besides, girls from poor families married early in these times. It was common for betrothals to be arranged in advance, and an age difference of several years—even more than ten years—between a man and woman was nothing unusual.

"Then sign the contract of sale. From now on, you'll work at the Princess Consort's ranch estate. You won't lack food or drink," the middle-aged man said, just as expected.

The old female broker hurriedly took out three contracts of sale. "The old gelding craftsman, five coins; the little gelding craftsman, three coins; the girl, two coins! We conduct business with a conscience—there's no price like this outside!"

The three of them were worth only one tael of silver? Meng Yuan was stunned. He quickly took the contracts and examined them. They were lifelong contracts of sale, needing only their names and seals.

Circumstances were stronger than men. This was how things were done everywhere outside; these people had the refugees over a barrel. If they delayed another two days, there would be even more disaster victims, and making a living would become still harder.

Yet Meng Yuan still found it absurd. You could say this world was bad, but the Princess Consort had indeed hired a brokerage and followed the proper procedures. You could say it was not bad, but three people were sold for only one tael of silver. If they were all chopped up and sold at pork prices, they would fetch more than that.

"Don't look at how little the sale money is. We're going to the Princess Consort's ranch estate! You'll have no worries over food and lodging, and you'll receive monthly wages besides! The Princess Consort treats her servants most generously. Go ask around—countless people want to go but can't!" Seeing Meng Yuan's incredulous expression, the old female broker hastily reassured him. "Little Gelder, once you miss this village, there won't be another inn!"

"Honored people, please let the three of us discuss it," Old Man Jiang sighed, taking his granddaughter and Meng Yuan outside.

Once outside, neither Old Man Jiang nor Meng Yuan knew what to say.

"Grandpa, sell me first. We can find a way to redeem me later." The little granddaughter clutched Old Man Jiang's hem and raised her filthy little face.

"At my age, Grandpa doesn't have much later left. I only hope to stay by your side and watch you for two more years." Old Man Jiang smiled kindly, then looked at Meng Yuan. "Thank you for helping us along the way. I have nothing with which to repay you. If you want to seek another path, I'll give you the money from selling myself. Perhaps you'll make something of yourself. When that time comes, I only hope you'll visit this child more often and look after her."

"Old Man, you trust me too much," Meng Yuan said with a helpless smile.

"You're a good person. I can tell," Old Man Jiang said.

"It's better for us to stay together. If we support each other, there will always be a day when we rise," Meng Yuan said, pinching the child's cheek.

They returned to the room, took out the three contracts of sale, and recorded their names and places of origin.

Old Man Jiang's full name was Jiang Shuanyou, fifty-three years old.

The little girl was called Jiang Tang, only eleven.

Meng Yuan used his real name and was sixteen.

The three of them each pressed their marks. The old female broker from the brokerage and the middle-aged man signed as well.

From then on, Meng Yuan belonged to the princely estate, becoming the Princess Consort's personal slave. Unless the Princess Consort released him one day, he would have to serve as a gelding craftsman for the rest of his life, cutting balls for the rest of his life.

With the matter settled, the middle-aged man produced broken silver. The old female broker took out a small steelyard from her shoulder bag, weighed it, and showed the middle-aged man the scale marks. "The rule is one in ten. Each side pays one coin!"

Holding the nine coins of silver he had received, Meng Yuan could not help thinking that in this world, even selling one's backside was beyond reproach.

"You three truly are blessed!" Having completed the transaction and received her commission, the old female broker beamed from ear to ear.

Meng Yuan and the other two had all been displaced and left without homes, and now they had sold themselves into slavery. Hearing those words, they found them especially bitterly ironic.