Lin Yue strode purposefully toward the fabric shop, carrying a basket. Worried about his stall, he hurriedly said after handing over the items, “Please return the bowls and chopsticks after you’ve finished eating. They’re at the stall at the end of the street. If you’re too busy, I’ll come back for them in half an hour.”

The shopkeeper wasn’t there; the bookkeeper behind the counter was in charge. Upon hearing this, she waved her hand. “Got it, young man. Don’t worry—I’ll bring them over to you in a bit.”

“Thank you. I’ll head back now.”

Sure enough, on a sweltering summer day, the tangy and refreshing cold jelly and cold noodles, along with the sweet and cool cold cakes and cold shrimp, were all very popular. The tamarind soup was selling well too, especially the cold shrimp—two coins for a bamboo tube full, ready to eat on the go, making it the perfect snack for a stroll through the streets.

Next in popularity was the jelly. People in the area around Sifang Town had a real taste for this sour and spicy treat. Lin Yue used a broth made from pickled daikon radish from home, which tasted much better than just adding vinegar.

Two of the stall’s items were selling well, and as the crowd grew, so did inquiries about the other foods. However, today’s pastries were moving more slowly; almost none of the usual regulars had come to buy them, perhaps because they didn’t know the stall was open. Lin Yue planned to wait until the other items on the stall were sold out, then push the cart around to hawk the pastries, hoping to sell a few more.

He had thought setting up a stall would be easier than hawking goods along the street, but it turned out he didn’t have a moment’s rest. When customers were around, he had to rush to serve them; when no one was there, he had to quickly wipe down the tables and wash the dishes.

Midway through, Lin Yue even made a trip to the Zhao family’s stall to buy ten earthenware bowls. As for the tables, there was nothing to be done—those who couldn’t wait ate standing up, while those living nearby took their food home to eat and returned the bowls later. He hadn’t remembered to bring paper and pen today, so Lin Yue relied solely on his memory, and he was so busy he was nearly losing his mind.

“Lingzhi, you watch the stall. I’ll go get our bowls and chopsticks.”

Shen Lingzhi placed the clean bowls and chopsticks back on the table and hesitated. “Brother, do you still remember which households took bowls? I only remember a few near North Gate Street and one in Pear Blossom Alley.”

Their stall wasn’t large, and they were short-handed, so the only people who could take bowls home to eat were those running shops or stalls on North Gate Street and in Lihua Alley, or those living in the alley across from that alley—counting them all up, there were only a dozen or so.

Lin Yue had a good memory; after a moment’s thought, he recalled seven or eight of them. “I remember most of them. I should be able to recall the rest once they’re closer. As for the ones I really can’t remember, we’ll just wait for them to return the bowls. Since they’re all old bowls, I doubt anyone would try to save a penny or two.”

“Alright then, Brother, you go ahead. There aren’t many people around now, and I can handle things here.”

Lin Yue glanced around. It was just past the fourth hour of the afternoon; the streets were much quieter now. Most households living far from town had already gone home, leaving only the townspeople and a few nearby residents.

“We’ll sell for another half-hour and then head back. The cold noodles are all gone, and we’ve sold almost all the cold shrimp. All that’s left is the bean jelly, cold rice cakes, and donkey roll cakes. There are still a few pounds of mushrooms left, but I doubt we’ll be able to sell them.”

Shen Lingzhi followed Lin Yue’s gaze to the stall and smiled. “But we sold two jars of mushroom sauce—that’s forty wen. Add that to the rest, and we’ve already made more than three times what we made yesterday.”

Lin Yue couldn’t contain his joy either; he covered his mouth and laughed. “Tomorrow we’ll make tamarind cakes and tamarind juice, and make extra cold jelly and cold shrimp. We’ll also make some wheat gluten and cold skin noodles to see how they sell. If they sell well, we’ll make more later.”

Shen Lingzhi nodded repeatedly. “Then I’ll make the cold jelly and cold shrimp tomorrow, and you can handle the rest. Let’s get to town early.”

“Alright! We can’t delay any longer. I’ll go get the bowls and chopsticks first; we’ll discuss the rest tonight.” No sooner had Lin Yue finished speaking than he hurried out.

Shen Lingzhi was about to call out after him, but when he saw someone approaching the stall, he clamped his mouth shut. A smile returned to his face as he asked, “Would you like a bowl of cold jelly or cold shrimp? Our donkey roll cake is also quite tasty, and the mushroom sauce is rich and savory—the mushrooms are freshly picked.”

For some reason, Shen Lingzhi felt that this middle-aged man looked familiar, as if he’d seen him somewhere before, but he just couldn’t quite place him.

If Lin Yue had been there, he would have recognized him as the proprietor of the town’s pastry shop, but unfortunately, Shen Lingzhi had never been to the shop, so naturally, he didn’t recognize him.

The middle-aged man didn’t respond, standing in front of the stall for quite a while before casually saying, “Give me four pieces of donkey-roll.”

“Sure thing, just a moment. I’ll wrap them up for you right away. That’ll be six wen.”

Ever since they started selling pastries, Lin Yue had bought quite a bit of oil paper from the stationery shop. The paper was rough and had a ginger-yellow hue, but it was perfect for wrapping pastries. Oil paper wasn’t expensive, but Lin Yue and Shen Lingzhi used it sparingly, cutting it into different sizes. The smallest pieces could only wrap two pastries, so there was no oil paper left for those buying just one.

“Mm, got it.”

The middle-aged man took the pastries but didn’t rush off. He chatted idly with Shen Lingzhi for a while, until Shen Lingzhi grew a bit impatient. Only then did he ask, “Young man, are you two going to set up a stall to sell pastries from now on? No more going around hawking them? Do you have any new pastries?”

Shen Lingzhi thought he was a customer who enjoyed their pastries, so he smiled and replied, “We’ll do both—setting up a stall and hawking them. We’ll have new pastries too; you’ll see when you come back next time.”

Middle-aged man: “……”

Is there any difference between saying that and not saying anything at all?

Shen Lingzhi wanted to say something else, but the man had already turned and walked away.

Shen Lingzhi: How rude is this guy? Never mind, I’ll just go wash the dishes.

When Lin Yue returned, Shen Lingzhi told him about the incident, originally intending to lighten the mood, but Lin Yue’s smile vanished instantly.

“Brother, did I say something wrong? Or is something wrong?”

Lin Yue shook his head gently. “It’s nothing. It’s just that when you described him, he looked familiar. You were right.”

As expected, that middle-aged man was the owner of the pastry shop. The town was small; having another pastry vendor meant less business for the shop. Still, Lin Yue was surprised at how quickly he’d shown up.

Their little stall was tiny, and they didn’t make many pastries each day. Not only could they not compete with the pastry shop, but they couldn’t even hold a candle to the other two stalls in the market. At best, they sold a bit more than the peddler who sold a bit of everything and happened to have some pastries on the side. He hadn’t expected the pastry shop to take notice of them so quickly.

Still, Lin Yue wasn’t too worried. He’d chatted with the owners of the other two stalls in town; they seemed like ordinary folks, and one of them was even from a nearby village. Since their stalls were doing just fine, he figured his own would be okay too. Besides, now that they’d added other items to their selection—no longer selling just pastries—the risk was even lower.

But since they’d come, Lin Yue kept the matter in mind, resolving to be more careful when selling pastries from now on. It was now the end of June; they’d sell for another month at most before heading home to prepare for the autumn harvest. By the time they returned to town—another month or two later—the shopkeeper would likely have forgotten all about them.

Besides, Shen Huaizhi has his provincial exam in August. If he passes and becomes a Xiucai, he won’t even have to kneel before the county magistrate. There aren’t many Xiucais in their town anyway, so the shopkeeper probably wouldn’t dare do anything. If he really had status and connections, he would’ve gone to the county town or the prefectural capital long ago—he wouldn’t be lingering in a small town like this.

Stay vigilant, but keep a relaxed mindset.

Lin Yue’s thoughts raced through his mind—though it was really only a moment—before he lowered his head and joined Shen Lingzhi in their work.

Their routine after closing up shop and returning home was almost exactly the same as before: they washed the mushrooms together, Lin Yue stir-fried the mushroom sauce, and Shen Lingzhi cooked the meal. After the five of them finished their meal in a lively atmosphere, they sat under the eaves to cool off and drink some cold water.

Fearing they might worry, Lin Yue didn’t mention the incident to them. Instead, he simply recounted the day’s bustling scene: “Business was great today, especially the cold noodles—we sold out in just over an hour. The cold shrimp sold well, too…”

Song Xunchun listened with great interest, but grew a bit anxious when Lin Yue mentioned there were still three jars of mushroom sauce left. Although the sauce could be stored for a few days, if it went bad, it would be like losing twenty wen—and she couldn’t bear to waste that.

When Lin Yue finished speaking, she suggested, “We all had mushroom sauce for breakfast today. It was so fragrant, I had an extra bowl of rice. When Huaizhi goes to the private school tomorrow, have him take a jar over to your parents so they can try it too.”

Lin Yue didn’t quite catch on at first. Whenever they made pastries, Shen Huaizhi would take some back to his parents every now and then—sometimes at his own suggestion, sometimes at Shen Huaizhi’s. Song Xunchun had never asked them about it, nor had she accused him of using his in-laws to support his own family. She hadn’t expected him to take the initiative to suggest bringing the mushroom paste over now.

“Mother, my mother, and my younger brother go mushroom picking too. They can make their own mushroom sauce; there’s no need to take any back.”

Song Xunchun didn’t beat around the bush. She said directly, “They can make their own, but they’ll definitely be happy to receive the one you made. Besides, there’s so much of the finished mushroom sauce—we’ve already had it for two meals. We simply must let our in-laws try some.”

Lin Yue hadn’t been entirely against the idea to begin with, so upon hearing this, he immediately agreed, “Alright then, I’ll pack two bowls to take back tomorrow. No need for the jar—keep it to sell.”

“Then bring plenty. You haven’t been back in a long time. We’ll have Huaizhi go back with you during the Mid-Autumn Festival.”

“Got it, thank you, Mother.”

Once the water in the kitchen had boiled, the family gradually washed up and went to bed.

With the provincial exam approaching, Shen Huaizhi’s studies became even more intense. Every night after dinner, he would start reviewing his lessons. He wouldn’t wash up until the whole family had finished, and even after returning to his room, he would spend another half-hour memorizing texts before going to sleep.

Lin Yue was afraid of disturbing him, so after dinner, he would stay in the courtyard. Unfortunately, he only managed to stay for a day before Shen Huaizhi dragged him back inside.

“I can’t relax when you’re not here; I keep getting distracted while reading.”

Lin Yue suspected he was making excuses, but fearing he might genuinely disrupt Shen Huaizhi’s studies, he had no choice but to follow him back to his room.

While Shen Huaizhi reviewed his lessons, he practiced calligraphy beside him, using a tracing sheet he had written himself. When Shen Huaizhi began reciting his lessons, he would go off to do needlework. The cuffs and collars of his garments wore out quickly, requiring mending every so often; since he couldn’t find the time during the day, he had to do it at night.

Once his chores were done, Lin Yue changed into his nightclothes and lay down on the bed. Every night, he had to urge Shen Huaizhi several times before he finally came to bed.

“It’s very late. Go to sleep quickly. You won’t be able to get up tomorrow, and if you don’t sleep well, you’ll definitely lack energy for your studies.”

Shen Huaizhi didn’t even look up. “You go ahead and sleep. I’ll join you once I’m done.”

“I can’t rest easy if you’re not here. I won’t be able to sleep.”

Shen Huaizhi: “……”

What else could he say? He tidied up the desk and went to bed.

Lin Yue snickered under the covers, but when Shen Huaizhi caught him, he laughed even louder.

“Ahem, I didn’t mean to, really. Believe me.”

Shen Huaizhi ruffled Lin Yue’s hair, said nothing, and simply gazed into his eyes.