Chapter 173 - 172: Cocoon
In the third month of spring, a warm and gentle breeze swept across the land.
Inside the silkworm house, steam filled the air, carrying a unique scent—a mix of fresh mulberry leaves and the faint, decaying smell of silkworm droppings.
On rows of man-high wooden racks, massive bamboo trays were stacked in layers.
Inside the trays, dense clusters of silkworms had mostly finished spinning their threads, forming cocoons of snow-white or pale yellow.
Chen Li’s wife, Song Ying, was personally overseeing the work. She led a group of women and female workers, who were all tiptoeing about, carefully and gently picking the mature cocoons and placing them into the baskets beside them.
Chen Li entered the silkworm house without a sound. His gaze swept over the busy scene before finally resting on his wife.
He didn’t say a word to disturb her, turning instead to go to the mulberry fields.
Looking at the still-tender mulberry grove before him, planted only last year, Chen Li’s brow furrowed unconsciously.
The mulberry trees were still small, their branches and leaves far from reaching their full, lush potential.
This directly limited the number of silkworms they could raise this spring. After all, their foundation was new; success couldn’t be achieved overnight.
That evening, the couple spoke in their room.
Chen Li asked about this year’s silk yield.
Song Ying did a quick calculation and replied, "Our mulberry trees are still small, so each mu yields only about a thousand jin of leaves. It takes about ten jin of leaves to get one jin of fresh cocoons. By that measure, each mu of the mulberry fields... can probably produce about a hundred jin of cocoons."
One hundred jin.
Chen Li repeated the number silently in his mind.
This was a far cry from the yield per mu during a peak harvest.
But considering the mulberry trees were still young, it was understandable.
He nodded without another word, his mind already churning with calculations.
That night, for once, he didn’t practice his martial arts.
Instead, he sat at his desk, opened a ledger, and, holding a red sandalwood abacus, began to meticulously calculate the profits and losses from their first year of sericulture.
The market price for fresh cocoons was roughly one mace of silver per jin.
A yield of one hundred jin per mu translated to ten taels of silver.
In three to five years, when the mulberry trees reached their peak production period, it could indeed reach a value of thirty taels of silver.
Then, he began to deduct the costs, item by item.
Under the new policy, the tax per mu for mulberry fields was as high as three taels. This was a fixed expense, and not a single cent could be shorted.
Raising silkworms was an extremely tedious business: picking mulberry leaves, chopping them, feeding the worms, cleaning their droppings, mounting them for spinning, harvesting the cocoons...
Every step required a great deal of manpower, and most of it was delicate work.
For his family’s thousand mu of mulberry fields, Chen Li hired fifty female workers just for daily care and maintenance.
Factoring in the averaged cost of land preparation, provided meals, and other tasks, it came out to about one tael and five maces of silver per mu.
Other expenses included silkworm eggs, charcoal, spinning frames, and repairs and depreciation...
That added another two taels per mu.
From ten taels of silver, the final profit was merely three taels and five maces.
Adding in potential losses from selling the cocoons, he estimated another deduction of five maces of silver.
The final profit... three taels?!
Chen Li stared at the numbers on the abacus beads, stunned.
Compared to his old livelihood, if he were growing rice with favorable weather, a mu could produce six stone.
Even at the normal grain price of one tael per stone, that was an income of six taels. After deducting labor and other costs, the profit would still be three taels.
’So I switched from rice to mulberry all for nothing?’
Of course, Chen Li knew that the current returns were meager because the mulberry trees were still young.
In three to five years, when the trees had matured into a proper grove, the leaf yield per mu could reach two to three thousand jin. The cocoon production would double, and only then would the profits be substantial.
The annual net profit per mu was estimated to be between nine and ten taels.
But with the switch from rice to mulberry, grain prices were also soaring.
Right now, the price of grain had stabilized at four taels per stone. By that calculation, the income from a mu of grain could reach twenty-four taels.
In Mirror Mountain and several surrounding counties, the policy of switching from rice to mulberry was being aggressively promoted. The acreage of mulberry fields had expanded rapidly, and a reduction in grain production was now a certainty.
Even when things stabilized and grain from other regions started to enter Mirror Mountain, it was foreseeable that grain prices would remain high.
What’s more, between winter and spring, one could also plant rapeseed. Simply selling the rapeseed would provide a considerable supplementary income.
The profit was in no way inferior to growing mulberries.
Compared to growing grain, there was no advantage to growing mulberries. Worse, it meant completely losing the fundamental self-sufficiency that came with producing one’s own food.
For the mulberry farmers who now had to buy grain to survive, would the income from selling cocoons even be enough to purchase high-priced rations?
They were completely dependent on purchased grain. If the trade routes were ever cut off, their families would starve.
Life, he feared, was actually less stable than in the old days of self-sufficiency.
This was the bloody reality of it all!
A few days later, Chen Li, along with several stewards, organized the long-term laborers to properly load the harvested cocoons and transport them to the Zhou Family’s Textile Workshop in the Commandery City.
A dozen or so ox-carts set off toward the Commandery City.
Liyang Commandery City.
The Zhou Family’s Textile Workshop wasn’t in the busiest marketplace but was located in the eastern district of the city.
The convoy stopped at the receiving area by the side gate of the Textile Workshop. Other convoys were already lined up, waiting.
A clerk came forward to greet them. He sized up Chen Li’s convoy, his tone neither servile nor overbearing. "Gentlemen, may I ask which business you represent? And what are you delivering?"
Chen Li stepped forward, presenting a prepared calling card and a cargo manifest. "The Lingxi Chen Family, here to deliver this spring’s dried cocoons."
The clerk took the calling card. When he saw Zhou Shuwei’s seal stamped on it, his expression immediately became respectful. He stepped aside to lead the way. "Ah, so it’s a convoy from Master Chen’s household. Please, follow me. There’s a special passage this way; you won’t have to wait long."
The convoy was led to the front of a somewhat quieter warehouse.
Soon, a shrewd-faced Zhou Family Steward of about forty years came forward.
The workers unloaded the carts, opened the bundles, took samples, and inspected them...
Finally, all the cocoons were weighed and tallied.
The Steward conferred in a low voice with the accountant for a moment, then came to Chen Li with the final figures. "Master Chen, the goods have been inspected. In total, we have one hundred and three thousand jin of dried cocoons, of which eleven thousand, six hundred jin are superior-grade. At the current market price—superior cocoons go for two maces of patterned silver per jin—the total comes to eleven thousand, four hundred and sixty taels. Please look this over."
With that, he presented the detailed ledger with both hands.
The price was slightly higher than Chen Li had expected.
Chen Li gave it a quick scan and nodded in agreement. "There are no errors. Let’s proceed with this amount."
The Zhou Family Steward beamed. "You are an honored guest. Would you prefer to take it in silver, or exchange it for silver notes?"
"Silver," Chen Li said.
"Very good!"
The Zhou Family Steward responded, and soon, men came carrying an entire chest of silver.
After Chen Li finished counting, the Zhou Family Steward enthusiastically invited him into an inner hall for tea and rest.
Chen Li politely declined and was about to take his leave when a young maid in green hurried over and whispered a few words to the Steward.
Hearing this, the Steward smiled at Chen Li. "Master Chen, what a coincidence. The Eldest Miss has just returned to the estate. She heard you were here and said that if you are not in a hurry, she invites you to the inner hall for a talk."
"The Eldest Miss?"
Chen Li was taken aback for a moment, then he realized. The "Eldest Miss" the steward mentioned was likely not Zhou Shuwei, who had already left for He Niu Academy with Shouheng.
It must be Zhou Qingyi, the one Zhou Shuwei had always mentioned was to marry Shouheng.
The Zhou Family Steward led Chen Li through the workshop area, filled with the clatter and creak of machinery, toward a quieter, more elegant courtyard at the back.
This place was a world apart from the busy clamor out front.
Before he even stepped into the inner hall, he could hear a woman’s sharp, displeased voice from within.
"How did you wipe this chair? I can still feel dust on it! And the corner of this table—look, it’s covered in old nicks and bumps! Didn’t I send word long ago that I was coming today? Why didn’t you know to sweep, burn incense, and replace this with the red sandalwood furniture with mother-of-pearl inlay?"