“Six pastries,” Lin Yue said, deftly counting out six coins through the burlap cloth covering the pastries and handing them over. “Auntie, here you go.”

“Alright, here are the coins. Count them.”

Lin Yue didn’t refuse; he quickly glanced at the copper coins in his hand before tucking them into his robe.

Judging by the woman’s attire and the ease with which she handed over the money, Lin Yue thought for a moment before asking with a smile, “Auntie, I made another kind of pastry today. Would you like to take a look?” As he spoke, he motioned to Shen Lingzhi and lifted the burlap cloth covering the pumpkin glutinous rice cake.

The golden-yellow pastries, about the size of three fingers, were visibly delicate, and a faint, refreshing scent of pumpkin could be detected.

The woman was clearly tempted, but since she had already bought quite a lot today, her tone carried a hint of hesitation. “What kind of pastry is this? Is it still two coins each?”

Seeing that she hadn’t outright refused, Lin Yue’s smile grew even broader. “These are Golden Cakes. They have a light, sweet, and soft texture, perfect for people of all ages, and the price remains the same.”

After speaking, Lin Yue gave a shy smile, his tone dropping noticeably. “They’re made with carefully selected, plump, and creamy old pumpkins—the flavor is truly excellent.”

To help sell the pastries, Lin Yue had given them a catchy name, but in the end, he still explained exactly what they were made of.

To his surprise, the customer didn’t seem to mind at all. She exclaimed, “Oh my, what an auspicious name! Give me two pieces, please. If they taste good, I’ll come back to buy more next time.”

Lin Yue: “Sure thing, I’ll pack them up for you right away. Eat the ‘Golden Cake’ and may fortune come your way soon!

“We’ll be around Lihua Alley at this time every day for the next few days. Just listen for our calls—you’ll definitely spot us.”

“That’s wonderful. The old folks and kids at home all love something sweet. We’ve been eating from the town’s pastry shops for so many years that we’re getting tired of them—we’ve been wanting to try something new.”

Having earned twelve wen in a single go, both Lin Yue and Shen Lingzhi were overjoyed, their calls ringing with excitement.

Although Shen Lingzhi’s voice was still a bit soft, at least he was able to call out now. As for Lin Yue, his voice was far louder than the day before; his clear, resonant voice nearly echoed down half the street, gradually drawing a few customers who stopped to ask the price.

“Sweet and creamy golden cakes, melt-in-your-mouth pea paste—two coins a piece, three coins for two! Perfect for all ages, never gets old—buy a couple to try!”

Business was rather slow today. With no altercations, there were naturally no onlookers either. Though sales were a bit sluggish, both Lin Yue and Shen Lingzhi felt much more at ease.

It must be said that although Sifang Town wasn’t large, there were quite a few households with spare cash to buy pastries and sweets. Or perhaps it was because the pastries they were selling today were relatively larger in size; out of every three or five people who asked the price, at least one would make a purchase.

In less than two hours, they had sold nearly all the pastries they’d brought today. As they sold and counted, they found they’d sold thirty pea puddings and twenty-two pumpkin glutinous rice cakes, earning seventy-eight wen.

Shen Lingzhi’s hands moved a bit stiffly as she stared blankly at Lin Yue. “Brother, did we really make that much money?”

Lin Yue was actually quite surprised as well. He had been very satisfied with earning over forty wen yesterday, but he hadn’t expected to make even more today—and besides that auntie, there were two or three repeat customers.

Could it be that his pastry-making skills had improved significantly lately?

The little voice inside Lin Yue was practically screaming, but he kept his composure and said calmly, “Yes, we really did make that much today. At this rate, who knows—maybe in less than ten days, you’ll have to help me make pastries.”

Seeing how composed he was, Shen Lingzhi calmed down considerably and nodded. “Don’t worry, Brother. I’ll study hard and do my best to get the hang of it as soon as possible.”

It was getting late, and with only six or seven pastries left unsold, the two prepared to head home.

On the way, they stopped by a grain and flour shop and a candy store, buying a few pounds of glutinous rice and half a pound of sugar. They then went to an oil shop to buy a jar of sesame oil and half a jar of rapeseed oil, along with a few other odds and ends. At every shop they visited, Lin Yue haggled with the shopkeeper—knocking a wen from one, getting a little extra from another—but in the end, they still spent two hundred wen to get everything they needed.

Lin Yue’s hands were trembling slightly as he tallied the final bill. He clearly paid thirty or forty coins at each stop, with the smallest transaction being just two coins, yet somehow he’d ended up spending two hundred coins. Was this what they meant by “spending money like water”?

Two hundred copper coins—just counting them took quite a while. For the first time, Lin Yue felt a sharp pain in his chest; even his breathing became labored.

That afternoon, the two of them experienced firsthand what it meant to go from high to low; they walked with uneven steps.

It wasn’t until they neared the village entrance that Lin Yue took a deep breath and pulled Shen Lingzhi aside. “After all, we didn’t waste this money. Besides, if business stays this good, we’ll make it back in three days. If we go home looking so glum, our parents will worry.”

Shen Lingzhi wasn’t actually worried at all. His mind was filled with thoughts of how amazing Brother Lin Yue was—able to both earn and spend money. He’d never held that much money in his hands before.

“I know, Brother. I’m not worried. I’ll definitely study hard to learn how to make pastries tomorrow morning, and we’ll sell even more.”

Lin Yue had been swept up in the moment, too. He thought it over seriously for a long time before speaking up: “Tomorrow, let’s make mung bean cakes and red bean cakes. They look pretty and taste great. They’re common pastries with a rich bean aroma, and the methods are similar, so they’ll be easy for you to learn.”

“Great! Mom used to make mung bean porridge before—it was delicious even without sugar.”

“There are really so many things you can make with mung beans,” Lin Yue said, a list popping into his head. “We can also make mung bean soup, boiled mung bean dumplings, and mung bean cakes. I’ll make them for you guys when I get the chance.”

Talking about food, the two of them got much more excited. They asked and answered questions back and forth, chatting all the way to their front door.

In the courtyard, Shen Zhengchu was sitting at the entrance to the kitchen, intently sawing bamboo. He looked up only when he saw them return. “Back already? How was business today?”

Facing Shen Zhengchu, Lin Yue was still a bit reserved. “Both kinds of pastries sold well today. I made seventy-eight wen.”

Shen Zhengchu paused in his work. “That’s quite something. We couldn’t earn that much in a day of manual labor in town. You’re a capable lad, Yue.”

From inside the house, Song Xunchun poked her head out. She showered him with praise as if it cost her nothing, and finally added, “You said it was inconvenient selling the bayberry soup yesterday, didn’t you? Your father went and cut down a few bamboo stalks. Next time you go to sell drinks, use the bamboo tubes.”

Lin Yue’s eyes lit up. Bamboo tubes would make things so much easier—they’d even save the trouble of washing dishes. Plus, being portable would likely attract more customers. He immediately said, “Thank you, Father. You’ve worked so hard. Let me help you make them.”

Shen Zhengchu waved his hand. “You two have been working hard all day. Go inside and rest. I’ll be done in a moment.”

Since he was still carrying things, Lin Yue didn’t refuse. He went into the kitchen with Shen Lingzhi, took out the items they’d bought today, and gave Song Xunchun a brief rundown.

Song Xunchun sighed, “It’s almost like we’re shopping for the New Year already. But it’s actually better this way—getting everything ready at once is more convenient. Put these away first. You two sit down and relax for a bit; dinner will be ready soon.”

After dinner, Song Xunchun took Lin Yue and the others out again,

“Your father ran into Carpenter Li this morning and mentioned wanting to have a shelf made, but he wasn’t sure what kind you two wanted, so he asked me to take you to see him. Carpenter Li is quite skilled at making cabinets, so I’m sure he can handle a shelf. If Yue says his requirements are too difficult for him to meet, we’ll just find someone else.”

“Mother, I understand.”

Lin Yue already had a clear vision for the shelf’s design: the bottom would have two large wheels like a cart, the middle section would hold two wooden barrels, the top would be divided into three tiers, and the sides would extend outward slightly to hang bamboo tubes or rags.

Carpenter Li was a straightforward sort of man. As soon as Song Xunchun and the others stepped inside, he spoke up, “What kind of design are you looking for? “How big? Any specific requirements for the wood…?”

Lin Yue had only just thought this through on the way over, but now he spoke with clear logic and precise requirements. After just one explanation, Master Li nodded.

“I can make it. Come back in three days to pick it up. At this size, I estimate it’ll cost eighty wen. You can pay ten wen up front.”

Lin Yue pulled out the money pouch he’d prepared earlier and handed over the payment with a deft motion; Song Xunchun couldn’t stop him.

That evening, everything proceeded as usual. Lin Yue and Shen Huaizhi lay in bed, each recounting a few words about what they’d done that day and whom they’d met, then fell asleep.

Over the next few days, Lin Yue and Shen Lingzhi would arrive in town by noon. After a brief rest, they’d start hawking their wares along the streets. Since the pastries they sold rarely repeated from day to day, business remained fairly steady—earning as little as twenty or thirty wen on slow days, and as much as sixty or seventy on good ones. Their best day was when they sold steamed buns, netting ninety wen.

That day happened to be market day, and the town was bustling with people coming and going. Lin Yue had prepared four varieties of steamed buns: two made with glutinous rice flour and two with regular rice flour, featuring brown sugar and pumpkin flavors respectively, plus millet and cornmeal buns. A palm-sized piece cost just two wen, and there were so many buyers that everything sold out in less than an hour and a half.

After selling snacks for ten days—not counting their expenses—Lin Yue and Shen Lingzhi had earned a total of five hundred and ninety wen.

Shen Lingzhi was both delighted and frustrated. “If I’d learned this sooner, we could’ve made more this morning. We’d have earned at least a hundred wen today. I wonder if business will ever be this good again.”

Lin Yue replied, “This was our first time making these, and we didn’t know they’d sell so well. We’ll just make more next time.”

Shen Lingzhi nodded and added, “Brother, I saw someone setting up a stall to sell mushrooms in town yesterday. Shouldn’t we start doing that too?”

Lin Yue ran his fingers over the hem of his shirt and said slowly, “It’s about time. Let’s get up early tomorrow and take a walk up the mountain first to see which mushrooms are plentiful this year. Then, when we come to sell pastries in the afternoon, we’ll spend some time there to see what kinds of mushrooms the townspeople like to buy and what the prices are. After observing for a couple of days, we should have a good idea. If the prices and everything else work out, we’ll start buying mushrooms at the village entrance the day after tomorrow.”

When it came to going up the mountain, Shen Lingzhi was brimming with confidence. “Brother, I know the back mountain like the back of my hand. Every year, I find tons of mushrooms—even more than Mother does. I’ve even found matsutake before, though I didn’t take them to town to sell; Mother used them to stir-fry with meat instead.”

Lin Yue’s mushroom-picking skills were rather average, and he felt a bit embarrassed as he spoke. “I’ve never found a matsutake, nor have I ever found any of those delicious ones like chicken-of-the-woods or dried-fan mushrooms. I’ve only ever found some common varieties.”

The dried-fan mushroom is a black mushroom with white edges, shaped like a fan. It tastes like dried meat, and there’s hardly anyone in the nearby villages who doesn’t love it. Unfortunately, they’re scarce—Lin Yue, for instance, had never found a single one in his entire life.