Jiang Dahu came alone.

Jiang Liu was in charge of making the tofu, so he didn’t need to rush over in the middle of the night.

No sooner had Jiang Dahu arrived than Jiang Tong, Jiang Fuzheng, and Jiang Mantang showed up, leading their oxen and mules. The third animal Ye Li had rented was the mule belonging to Jiang Fuzheng’s family.

Five wen a day.

When he mentioned the workshop to Jiang Fuzheng, Jiang Fuzheng immediately offered to provide his own mule, and he agreed. Today was the first day of work, and Jiang Fuzheng came personally, leading the mule.

He assigned the task of frying fried tofu puffs to his youngest daughter-in-law—Jiang Mantang’s wife—and Jiang Mantang, out of curiosity, came over to watch the commotion. At that moment, in the large shed to the left behind the new house, there were three stone mills set up, with an oil lamp placed on the grinding stone of each one. The three oil lamps cast a dim, yellow glow—enough light to get the work done.

As soon as Jiang Dahu arrived, he went to the kitchen to fetch the soaked beans, so Jiang Tong and Jiang Fuzheng could get right to work.

They hitched their respective animals to the mill shafts, led them around the millstone a few times, and then the animals began circling on their own.

Standing beside the millstone, all they had to do was occasionally feed beans into the mill’s hopper and sweep away the slurry. The work was so simple that earning thirty wen a day made them feel almost embarrassed.

Jiang Dahu stood with his hands on his hips, his eyes darting back and forth, trying to find something to do to earn his wages. But no matter how hard he looked, he simply couldn’t find any work!

With nothing else to do, Jiang Fuzheng and Jiang Mantang headed home. Jiang Dahu would take their family’s mule back later.

With the father and son gone, Jiang Dahu and Jiang Tong had to tend to three stone mills, which finally kept them somewhat busy.

Ye Li and Jiang Ji saw the father and son off at the gate. Once back in the courtyard, Jiang Ji told Ye Li to go back and catch up on some sleep: “I’m going to the mill to fetch some corn cobs to shell.”

The corn from those two mu of land had been hauled home, and to make cornmeal, they’d first have to shell the ears. He would be reporting for duty at the county school in just a few days.

Before leaving home, he wanted to get as much of this labor-intensive work done as possible. Upon hearing this, Ye Li yawned: “Okay.”

Although he hadn’t done any physical labor last night, he’d only slept for three hours, so he was still a bit sleepy. Still, he instructed, “If I sleep in, please make breakfast while you’re at it.”

The day before, he’d specifically told his father not to get up early. Jiang Ji agreed, so the couple went about their own business.

When Ye Li woke again, it was still dark outside. Without a watch, he had no idea what time it was. The bed was toasty warm, and he wriggled about for a moment before finally getting up. Their new room was on the west side of the courtyard, directly across from the kitchen. As soon as he stepped out of the room, he saw the light on in the kitchen.

The kitchen door was wide open, and Ye Fulang was sitting by the stove, stoking the fire.

Seeing this, Ye Li didn’t feel the least bit guilty—after all, it was perfectly normal to linger in bed; he had nothing to do anyway.

He walked over: “Father, why are you tending the fire? Where’s Jiang Ji?”

Ye Fulang turned his head at the sound and explained, “He’s over at the workshop squeezing soybean pulp—Xiao Liu is there too. Our son-in-law is a Xiucai now—how could he be hanging around the stove?”

After getting up, he’d seen Jiang Ji washing rice in the kitchen, so he’d hurriedly taken over the task.

“…Then what did you make for breakfast?”

Ye Li asked again.

“Don’t worry. I took a piece of the five jin of meat left over from yesterday, stir-fried it with some radish, and in the big iron pot, there’s rice porridge and corn cakes. Plus, there’s an egg for each of us.”

Ye Fulang said.

Yesterday, when Ye Liang brought him here, he and Ye Wen had pooled their money to buy ten jin of pork.

That much meat would last his family half a month, but Ye Li had eaten half of it in just one meal last night.

Having witnessed his youngest son’s extravagance firsthand, he certainly couldn’t get by with the Ye family’s meager rations—otherwise, Ye Li would get angry. This meal was indeed quite good.

Ye Li smiled and said, “Then I’ll go squeeze the soy pulp.”

“Go on, go on.” His father waved him off.

Ye Li washed his hands first, then headed over to the shed to press the soy pulp.

Although their workshop was small, they weren’t unscrupulous—hygiene was a top priority. Over by the shed, the beans hadn’t been ground yet.

But the slurry from two rounds of grinding had already filled three barrels, and Jiang Ji and Jiang Liu were hard at work.

Jiang Liu had been there for quite a while. She rarely slept in; she’d woken up as soon as the rooster crowed for the first time. When Ye Li told her not to come, she’d taken a quick nap, but after waking up, she didn’t dare delay and hurried over right away.

With so many beans, filtering out the pulp took quite a while.

Before long, Ye Fulang, who had finished cooking breakfast, also came over to squeeze the soy pulp. After Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya got up, they washed their little hands and hurried over to help.

The two little ones wouldn’t want to miss out on their two wen daily wage.

So by the time all the beans were ground, most of the pulp had already been strained.

Jiang Dahu and Jiang Tong weren’t in a hurry to go home, so they pitched in as well. With everyone working together, they finished filtering the bean pulp before dawn. Jiang Dahu and Jiang Tong didn’t linger; the two of them led their livestock home.

On the way, they returned the mule belonging to Jiang Fuzheng’s family. Ye Li set the table for breakfast.

After breakfast, Jiang Ji first fed the pigs and chickens, then went to Jiang Mai’s room to teach Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya to read. Ye Li, meanwhile, began teaching Ye Fulang and Jiang Liu how to make tofu.

The task was simple; the three of them managed the five stoves with ease.

From boiling the soy milk to pressing the tofu into the molds, it took only one hour. After that, there was nothing left to do, so Jiang Liu could go home.

In the afternoon, it was time to fry the fried tofu puffs, so Liang Erxiang and Jiang Yu took over. 

Jiang Liu: “……”

She really felt a bit guilty about accepting this pay.

With nothing to do in the morning, following Ye Li’s usual routine, she finished her chores and then just lay around.

Now that Ye Fulang has arrived, he doesn’t even have to do the housework anymore. But Ye Fulang can’t sit still—one moment he’s sweeping the yard, the next he’s wielding an axe to chop firewood—Ye Li had already bought quite a bit of firewood; thin twigs, thick logs, and old tree roots were all piled haphazardly against the courtyard wall.

Ye Fulang just wanted to tidy things up.

Ye Li thought it was unnecessary; whether they were thin twigs or thick logs, they could all be stuffed into the stove without hindering the fire, and as for the old tree roots, they could be used for warming up by the fire in winter.

But Ye Fulang insisted on tidying them up. Unable to dissuade him, Ye Li went over to help, only to be turned away by Ye Fulang, who told him to go back inside and rest. After thinking it over, he really did go back inside to find Jiang Ji.

His husband would soon be leaving for the county town to study, so he needed to socialize more with others.

At noon, Ye Liang arrived.

Ye Fulang stir-fried all the remaining pork; as usual, he took the lead in preparing lunch, while Ye Li was only responsible for assisting.

Actually, Ye Li wanted to do the cooking himself, but Ye Fulang had always doted on his youngest son. Besides, Ye Li paid him forty wen a day for the work, and it wasn’t even hard—how could he possibly sit idly by?

He would have loved to take on all the chores in the household himself. Ye Li couldn’t argue with him, so he had no choice but to let him have his way.

After lunch, Liang Erxiang, Jiang Yu, Jiang Dachuan, Gao Jun, Jiang Mantang, and Zhao Feng arrived. Gao Jun wasn’t feeling well, so he just tagged along with Jiang Dachuan to see what the commotion was about.

Jiang Mantang had come to see his wife off to work.

Once everyone had arrived, they first cut the tofu into blocks and skewers, then fired up all five stoves simultaneously to begin frying.

Today they were making only 160 jin of fried tofu puffs, which worked out to 32 jin per stove—about the same amount as usual, and it took roughly the same amount of time.

Just as they were finishing frying, Jiang Tong arrived driving his oxcart.

It gets dark early in winter. After the fried tofu puffs were finished frying, Ye Liang wasted no time; he loaded his share onto the oxcart and headed straight home. Although the number of customers in Baxian Town hadn’t dropped sharply, Ye Li hadn’t made any fried dough snacks today, so he took a few extra jin of goods—thirty jin in total. Ye Li had given him a discount.

After all, Ye Li was now a small business owner, and as his older brother, Ye Li naturally offered him a staff discount. Previously, Ye Li had charged him eleven wen per jin, but from now on, the price would be eight wen per jin.

Working out the numbers, Ye Li only makes a little over two wen per jin from him—that’s half the original price, a 50 percent discount. Ye Li can’t work for nothing; he still has to pay his workers’ wages.

Besides, if he really sold the tofu puffs to Ye Liang at cost, Ye Liang certainly wouldn’t agree—after all, Ye Liang was now earning thirty wen in wages himself.

Once Ye Liang left, Ye Li and Jiang Ji loaded the remaining fried tofu puffs onto Jiang Tong’s oxcart. The three of them wasted no time and immediately headed to the county town to deliver the goods to the various small business owners.

Earlier, while promoting the fried tofu puffs, Jiang Ji had written down the names and addresses of all these small business owners.

Upon entering the town, they first went to the west to deliver to the cold noodle shop. The remaining shop owners were all in the east.

Around midday, the food stalls were all quiet, but there were three customers inside the cold noodle shop.

Chen Cuihua stood in front of the iron griddle, using it as a cutting board, and was slicing lean pork with a knife; Gong Lisheng was nowhere to be seen. She was quite pleased to see Ye Li and the other two.

She hurriedly invited the three of them into the shop, brought out some pastries, and even wanted to serve them some congee—but all three customers were already eating century egg and lean pork congee!

As for Gong Lisheng, he was walking through the streets, calling out to sell congee.

Chen Cuihua said with a smile, “At first, my husband and I only sold congee during mealtimes, but this congee is so delicious that people kept coming by even after mealtimes to ask for it. So I started making extra and keeping it warm on the stove—I can sell about twenty bowls in an afternoon.”

The reason they’d initially only sold it during mealtimes was that keeping the congee warm in the pot used up a lot of firewood.

But this dish is all about volume, and besides, selling twenty servings brings in thirty wen—enough to cover several days’ worth of coal expenses. So, after lunch, she’d make another small pot to serve century egg and lean pork congee in the afternoon as well.

As for the evening—that was where the real money was.

Since the shop was too small, she had to go to the courtyard where Gong Lisheng rented a room to make the congee. Her father-in-law and mother-in-law helped her out, and with the three of them working together, they could make three large pots.

To this end, they even remodeled the courtyard, building several additional stoves so the three brothers could cook congee simultaneously. Of the three large pots of congee, Gong Lisheng would push one around in a one-wheeled cart, selling it door-to-door.

The remaining two pots were hauled over on a handcart and sold at the shop.

All three pots combined yielded about 120 bowls; with a profit of one wen and five li per bowl, that came to 180 wen. Add to that the three pots from lunchtime, and the daily earnings totaled 360 wen!

Although this couldn’t compare to the profits from the cold-served century eggs, it wasn’t bad either.

Previously, with the cold-served century eggs—not counting the ones Gong Lisheng sold while going door-to-door—the shop could only sell a little over two hundred portions a day.

Now, with the congee, between the shop and Gong Lisheng’s door-to-door sales, they’re also selling over two hundred portions—far exceeding expectations.

To be honest, when they first heard about the century egg and lean pork congee, the couple wasn’t very optimistic. Although the congee tasted good, it was one wen more expensive than stir-fried cold noodles.

Plus, it contained only one century egg and a few thin slices of pork. A bowl of it wouldn’t even fill you up.

On top of that, having to carry a stove while going door-to-door added significant costs, so the couple had braced themselves for profits to drop by half. But to their surprise, profits didn’t drop by half at all—by their calculations, they’re still bringing in ten taels a month!

It didn’t affect their grand plan to buy a courtyard house in the slightest!

Of course, Chen Cuihua couldn’t go into all these details in front of the customers. She could only cheerfully urge the three of them to eat some dim sum and drink some congee.

Ye Li waved his hand: “Sis, don’t serve us any more. We still have to deliver goods to the east side of town. It’s our first day, and we’re not familiar with the area yet—if we’re late, we won’t be able to get out of the city.”

“These are your family’s fried tofu puffs. Weigh them out—five jin in total.”

As he spoke, he motioned for Jiang Ji to fetch the fried tofu puffs from the ox cart.

He’d already counted them earlier; packed in a small back basket, there were sixty pieces per jin, so five jin made three hundred pieces. Upon hearing this, Chen Cuihua didn’t try to keep them any longer. Indeed, it would be a real hassle if they couldn’t get out of the city.

She took the basket Jiang Ji handed her and was about to reach for the money when Ye Li asked her to weigh it: “Sister-in-law, even close brothers need to keep clear accounts. Weigh it yourself—that way we’ll both have peace of mind, and our business will last.”

Hearing this, Chen Cuihua said, “You’re being too nitpicky,” but inside she was actually a little happier. Ye Li was straightforward and honest—she loved dealing with people like that!

She weighed it on the scale; the weight was, of course, correct, so Chen Cuihua paid Ye Li in silver. One jin was eleven wen.

Five jin came to fifty-five wen.

So Ye Li, Jiang Ji, and Jiang Tong bid farewell to Chen Cuihua and boarded the oxcart, heading toward the east side of the city.

There were more than twenty small business owners in the eastern part of the city who had placed orders. Fortunately, Chen’s Private School was also located there, and Jiang Ji was fairly familiar with the area, so he visited them one by one without wasting too much time.

The situation for these small business owners was similar to that of Chen Cuihua and Gong Lisheng.

As soon as they introduced the century egg and lean pork congee, they received unanimous praise from diners, and business wasn’t much worse than that of the cold preserved egg salad. Some of the small business owners were even thinking of making congee their main offering.

Compared to their original signature dishes, the century egg and lean pork congee was simply more popular. Now, when Ye Li came by to deliver the fried tofu puffs, they paid him without hesitation.

As long as Yezaopo continues to supply century eggs, they’re willing to buy a few jin every day—regardless of whether the fried tofu puffs sell or not. Of course, the fried tofu puffs shouldn’t be hard to sell; they taste pretty good.

So when Ye Li asked if they wanted fried tofu puffs for tomorrow, everyone said yes. Just like that, tomorrow’s supply was secured.

This made Jiang Ji and Jiang Tong smile to themselves—things were going far too smoothly! As dusk fell, the three of them left the city.

By the time they entered the village, it was pitch black.

They each returned to their homes. By the time Ye Li and Jiang Ji arrived, Ye Fulang had already prepared dinner. So they sat down to eat.

The trial run had been a great success, filling the dinner table with constant laughter and cheer.

After dinner, Ye Li didn’t wash up; instead, he and Jiang Ji went back to their room to get paper, a brush, and an inkstone to keep the books. Since they were keeping the books, they had to calculate everything carefully, down to the li.

No more guesswork.

One hundred and sixty jin of fried tofu puffs, with a cost of five wen and three li per jin. Of these, thirty jin were sold to Ye Liang at eight wen per jin, yielding a profit of two wen and seven li per jin; the thirty jin together brought in eighty-one wen.

The remaining 130 jin yielded a profit of five wen and seven li per jin, totaling 741 wen. Adding these together gives a total of 822 wen.

But this profit must be reduced by labor costs.

Jiang Tong, Jiang Dachuan, Jiang Dahu, Jiang Liu, Liang Erxiang, Jiang Yu, Zhao Feng, and Ye Liang—the wages for these eight people were thirty wen per day, totaling two hundred forty wen.

Ye Fulang’s was forty wen.

The rental fee for the mule from Jiang Fuzheng’s family was five wen. Adding these up totals two hundred eighty-five wen.

Eight hundred twenty-two wen minus two hundred eighty-five wen—that is Ye Li’s net profit: five hundred thirty-seven wen. 

Five hundred thirty-seven wen.

Actually, to be precise, the cost of firewood must also be factored in; the firewood currently being burned was purchased by Ye Li. The cost of five wen and three li that Ye Li had previously calculated did not include firewood.

But now that the profit is high enough, the cost of this firewood doesn’t affect the big picture and can be disregarded.

Ye Li looked at the ledger in front of him. He tapped his finger on the words “537 wen,” then turned to Jiang Ji beside him: “What do you think?”

“Very good,” Jiang Ji nodded, his eyes sparkling. At this rate per day, that’s sixteen tael a month!

Factoring in the revenue from century eggs—even though sales have dropped slightly—they can still expect six or seven tael. Add to that the two tael from the herbal tea and beverages.

That’s a minimum of twenty-four tael for the month!

Not to mention, the workshop was still in its trial phase with limited stock; Ye Li’s goal was to produce two or three hundred jin of goods per day. If they actually achieved that goal, wouldn’t they earn thirty taels a month?

He dared not even think about it.

Just thinking about it makes his head spin and his body feel like it’s floating.

Over the past few years, Jiang Ji had suffered enough from being broke, but now he could see the dawn of financial freedom—this was truly… He took a deep breath and raised his arm to wrap it around Ye Li’s waist.

The two of them were now sitting on the second high stool Jiang Tong had brought—it was a bit narrow, barely big enough for both of them, so they were sitting very close together. With just a little effort, he pulled Ye Li into his arms.

The door was closed.

The windows were also covered with paper.

So he boldly leaned in to kiss Ye Li.

Ye Li was also pleased with today’s profits. Seeing him lean in, he smiled sweetly and gave his lips a light peck. After the kiss, they looked into each other’s eyes, and a moment later, they both burst out laughing.

It’s great to have money.

However, looking at the copper coins on the table, Ye Li felt not only joy but also a hint of worry.

He’d spent quite a bit building his house, and since he was in a hurry to offload the job of frying fried tofu puffs, he’d set up the workshop first.

At the time, he hadn’t given it much thought—he’d just wanted to make money and take it easy. Now that he could actually take it easy and had made the money, he was afraid that having so much cash on hand would draw unwanted attention.

Since he hadn’t enlisted the whole village to set up a village workshop and was relying solely on their own branch, they were rather outnumbered and outgunned. He wrapped his arms around Jiang Ji’s waist and said, “This is enough for now. Any more than this, and we won’t be able to handle it.”

Upon hearing this, Jiang Ji’s heart sank. He wiped the smile from his face and said earnestly, “I’ll do my best.” The title of “Xiucai” was merely a starting point—the very bottom rung.

He had to keep taking the exams to climb higher.

He had to pass the provincial examination!

At the level of a Juren, imperial regulations granted significant exemptions from land taxes; therefore, once he passed the provincial examination, farmers would come to him with their fields to seek his patronage. Even if he were penniless before passing the exam, once he did, he would inevitably become a landowner.

All Juren are wealthy; even if one’s personal wealth is somewhat greater, it won’t attract undue attention. Beyond wealth, one’s status is also different.

After passing the provincial examination, not only would he qualify for public office, but local dignitaries and influential figures would also seek to cultivate a relationship with him. By then, he would no longer be easily manipulated by others.

He had no grand ambitions; being able to live a stable and prosperous life with Ye Li in Beiyang County was enough for him.