Chapter 16: Gratitude

Of course, Li Mu could not possibly stay in the village his entire life. After all, he possessed a golden finger, and his curiosity for martial arts ran deep. No matter the reason, one day he would surely leave. But for now, that did not prevent him from integrating into the village.

To look at it pragmatically, if he wanted to get started, the help from the village was crucial. Moreover, he was not ungrateful by nature. He remembered well how much these villagers had helped him that day.

With this thought, he smiled and said, "Elders, I plan to make a living by trimming hooves. Out of gratitude for your care in the past—well, please let the villagers know that anyone who needs it can bring their livestock here tomorrow. I’ll trim their hooves for free. Not just cattle—donkeys, mules, horses... all are welcome. No charge."

The villagers were taken aback at first, then one by one, their expressions changed to ones of approval and satisfaction as they looked at Li Mu.

"Good lad, I could tell on the mountain that day you were someone who remembers kindness. Now it’s clear as day... Well, I don’t have any cattle, but I do have a mule. Its hooves are in bad shape, even worse than Old Fourth’s cow... I’ll bring it over tomorrow!"

"I don’t have much livestock, but what you’re doing is admirable!"

"Li Mu has truly grown up..."

The villagers nodded in satisfaction. A junior who knows gratitude and repays kindness was, of course, something everyone wanted to see.

"Alright, Li Mu is reliable, and as elders, we can’t fall short. We’ve got to double our efforts to finish building his house this month," Uncle Four said, patting his cow’s head and grinning.

The villagers all agreed heartily, nodding along.

It was a while before they dispersed, still chatting animatedly about Li Mu as they went.

They praised this child for his gratitude, saying Old Third Li had raised a fine son. Especially that skill with livestock—it was truly wondrous and awe-inspiring.

Once everyone had left, Aunt Nine beamed at Li Mu, nodding with a smile.

A grateful and dutiful person is someone people are drawn to in any era.

...

The next morning, the entrance to Uncle Nine’s home was bustling.

Mooing, neighing, braying—the voices of cattle, horses, and donkeys rang out endlessly.

Li Mu donned a leather apron and began working from early morning. He had borrowed the apron from his third grandpa, who used it for grinding medicines—some herbal juices stained fabric permanently, so he had made a leather one. Li Mu had borrowed it the night before.

Outside the gate, a large crowd of villagers gathered, squatting or standing, watching Li Mu trim hooves with curiosity.

What happened yesterday had already spread throughout the village. Everyone knew that Old Third Li’s son, Li Mu, had mastered the skills of training animals and trimming hooves, and now, in gratitude to the village, he was offering free hoof trimming for all their livestock.

At first glance, trimming hooves didn’t seem like much, but as they watched, the villagers found the process inexplicably captivating.

Many of the men, with it being the off-season, were drawn in and reluctant to leave, squatting around to watch.

As they watched, they marveled aloud—

"Tsk, if only I had Li Mu’s skill with livestock. Look, it’s not just the cattle—those stubborn donkeys, mules, old horses, all become docile and well-behaved in his hands... That’s real talent."

"His old cow was always the tamest in the village. I used to think they just got lucky with a gentle animal. Now I see it’s all Li Mu’s doing."

The villagers exchanged amazed remarks.

Then someone noted curiously, "It’s odd, isn’t it? It’s just hoof trimming, but why is it so addictive to watch?"

"No, really, it is!"

"Strange, very strange..."

They muttered among themselves.

There wasn’t yet a word for ‘stress relief’ in this world, but watching those misshapen hooves—whether cattle or donkey—transformed by Li Mu’s skill into neat and clean shapes, and seeing even the animals' spirits change after being tended to, filled them with a mysterious, pleasant satisfaction that kept them glued to the scene, growing more engrossed the longer they watched.

With so many animals, it was inevitable that some had injured hooves—a fairly high proportion, in fact.

Most commonly, small stones were embedded in the hooves. Though not as severe as Uncle Nine's big blue ox had been, some had sustained injuries.

Thus, the ‘hoof padding’ Aunt Six had been talking about for days finally made sense to everyone.

They watched as Li Mu, growing more practiced, applied medicine, trimmed hooves, cauterized, inserted pads, and bandaged...

It was even more mesmerizing.

Of course, not every family was like Aunt Nine, who could afford to use silk as bandages.

Li Mu thought of a solution. Since they were using herbal poultices rather than the sprays he had seen in videos from his previous life, it wasn’t strictly necessary to have perfectly wrapped bandages. So he found some old nets, cleaned them up, and used them as makeshift bandages.

Li Mu knew this could risk infection, but there was no other way; given the circumstances, he couldn’t conjure bandages out of thin air. At least, he thought, it was better than leaving wounds festering inside the hoof.

Luckily, with herbal medicine covering the wounds and no direct contact, this had to suffice for now.

But there were too many animals—what he thought would take one day was nowhere near enough. He ended up extending it for another two days.

If you wanted to do a favor, you had to do it thoroughly and well. If he stopped halfway, some families would have their animals treated and thank him, but those left out would, inevitably, feel slighted.

If the favor wasn’t done for all, it could breed resentment instead.

It’s not scarcity but inequality that breeds discontent.

Li Mu understood this well, and would not make that mistake.

There were only a dozen or so cows in the village, but donkeys, mules, and horses added up to over fifty animals in all.

It took three days before every animal’s hooves in the village had been trimmed.

For at least half a year, none of these animals would suffer from hoof problems again.

...

But the villagers were honest folk, and on the fourth day, this honesty was reflected back to Li Mu.

He had trimmed all the village animals’ hooves for free, and though he refused payment, on the morning of the fourth day, people streamed to Uncle Nine’s house with food in hand.

Those better off brought a few taels of smoked meat; those of modest means brought a few eggs, some greens, or corn...

All came to thank Li Mu.

"Li Mu is reliable; how could we not be?"

"Li Mu worked for three days straight—we all saw it. He said he wouldn’t take payment, but how could we let him work for nothing?"

"Even if we can’t pay cash, we must bring a little food, at the very least."

Li Mu was touched and insisted they needn’t bring anything, but the villagers were insistent and left their gifts despite his protests.

In the end, all he could do was accept them.

The villagers left in high spirits.

Later, Aunt Nine sorted through everything and found that there were dozens of eggs alone, three or four pounds of smoked meat, and—since they lived by the river—the most abundant were fresh fish, more than a dozen, each weighing several pounds.

There were also plenty of vegetables and corn.

Aunt Nine smiled and said, "Well, now you can really run your own household. Everyone in the village is working hard to help build your house, and at this rate, it should be finished within a month."

Li Mu smiled as well.

This—this is what goodwill looks like.