Yezaopo Village lay in the northwest of Beiyang County, just three li from the county seat.

In the third month of spring, wild jujube trees flourished lushly before and behind the village houses.

By the hour of Shen, most villagers were busy in the fields.

Yet from a small farmhouse in the western part of the village, wisps of cooking smoke rose into the air.

Ye Li stood before the stove. Seeing the soy milk in the iron pot about to boil over, he quickly poured in a basin of cold water.

The cold water instantly cooled the boiling soy milk.

Just then, Jiang Mai shouted from the kitchen doorway, “Grandfather Lizheng! He doesn’t know how to make tofu at all! He’s just stalling because he doesn’t want to kneel in the ancestral hall!”

Jiang Fuzheng heard this and raised his hand to ruffle the boy’s hair. “Don’t be impatient, Mai. We’ll see soon enough if he can do it or not.”

“If he can’t make tofu, then we’ll add to his punishment— we’ll make him kneel in the ancestral hall for two days and two nights.”

Ye Li: “…”

But Jiang Mai clenched his little fists excitedly, his eyes sparkling brightly.

He seemed to have already envisioned Ye Li kneeling in the ancestral hall.

Hmph! He was certain this malicious fool couldn’t make tofu!

Jiang Ya, who stood beside Jiang Mai, acted as if he hadn’t heard a thing. He merely sniffed his little nose, his thin cheeks showing a hint of greed.

The aroma of soy milk wafting from the kitchen was irresistible.

Ye Li’s heart sank.

He had traveled back in time that morning. The original owner of this body had married Jiang Ji, the eldest brother of Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya, just twenty days prior.

Jiang Ji had returned to the county town to study at a private academy on the second day after the wedding.

In this household, the original owner had become the one in charge.

Not only was the original owner lazy and gluttonous, but he was also foolish and venomous.

After squandering his dowry, he had a heated argument with Jiang Ji and his own father. In his rage, he set his sights on his five-year-old younger brother-in-law, Jiang Ya, scheming to lure him to the county town and sell him for silver.

Halfway there, however, he was caught red-handed by Jiang Fuzheng, the village head, and Jiang Mai.

Panicking, the original body tried to flee, but the rain from the night before had made the road slippery. He accidentally fell into a ditch by the roadside, and that’s how he ended up here.

At the time, Jiang Fuzheng was furious, demanding that he return to the village to kneel in the ancestral hall.

With no other choice, he claimed he was taking Jiang Ya to the county town to buy delicious food.

Naturally, Jiang Fuzheng and Jiang Mai didn’t believe a word of it.

To prove his words were true, he accompanied Jiang Fuzheng, Jiang Mai, and Jiang Ya into the county town.

But the original body had only six wen on him. After careful consideration, he bought two catties of soybeans, intending to make tofu.

Rather than buying a few pieces of candy to eat, he decided to make some soy products to show off his skills. He hoped this craft could help turn around everyone’s poor impression of the original body.

He could even start a small side business selling tofu products.

Jiang Fuzheng provisionally accepted his explanation and instructed him to soak the soybeans upon returning to the village.

After soaking for over three hours, he ground the beans into soy milk using Jiang Fuzheng’s family stone mill, then carried it home to boil.

He had just added cold water to the near-boiling soy milk because he intended to make cold-water soy milk.

Tofu made from cold-water soy milk could be used to fry puffed tofu.

Several tofu shops already operated in Beiyang County.

Selling plain tofu alone would be exhausting and barely profitable.

Therefore, he planned to make puffed tofu.

However, ordinary tofu without puffing agents couldn’t be fried into puffed tofu.

Even if fried, the result was poor, lacking the puffiness and ability to absorb broth that the additive provided.

In this era free of messy additives, making fried tofu puffs required perfecting the soy milk itself.

Taking a deep breath, he ladled the soy milk from the pot into a clay basin, preparing to add the brine.

He used a salt brine made from table salt, water, and white vinegar.

The original owner had been a glutton, so the kitchen was reasonably well-stocked with seasonings—there was no need to buy extra salt or vinegar.

With one hand, he lifted the salt brine and poured it into the soy milk, while the other hand held a spoon, slowly stirring the mixture.

He added the brine in small increments, stopping once the soy milk formed large, flocculent clumps.

Next came the waiting period, allowing the flocculent tofu to solidify into tofu pudding.

He turned and called out cheerfully to the figures standing by the kitchen door: “Uncle Jiang, Xiao Mai, Ya-ger, come take a look.”

Jiang Fuzheng and Jiang Mai immediately entered the kitchen.

Jiang Ya swallowed again before shuffling over on his short legs to follow Jiang Mai.

The three approached the stove. Upon seeing the contents of the clay basin, Jiang Fuzheng looked quite surprised.

Jiang Mai, however, looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

What was going on?

The once pure white soy milk had truly changed?

Jiang Ya’s eyes widened as he swallowed again.

“In fifteen minutes, the tofu pudding will be ready. Press it in a basket to drain the water, and you’ll have tofu.”

“Tofu pudding can be savory or sweet. Savory braising is too much trouble, and we happen to have some cane sugar at home. We can sprinkle some sugar on the tofu pudding later for a sweet treat.”

Ye Li said with a smile.

“Great!” Jiang Ya immediately nodded his little head, responding with obvious enthusiasm.

Jiang Mai: “…”

He sighed in exasperation and ruffled Jiang Ya’s hair.

This little brother of his never seems to learn his lesson!

Ever since that malicious good-for-nothing arrived at the Jiang household, he’d been beating the two of them daily. Today, he’d even tried to trick Xiao Ya into going to the county town to be sold.

Yet the moment Xiao Ya saw food, he forgot everything.

Ye Li, however, was delighted.

He smiled and said, “Xiao Ya is such a good boy. I’ll add two spoonfuls of cane sugar for you later.”

Jiang Ya’s eyes lit up instantly at the mention.

But Jiang Mai had rubbed his head a bit too hard earlier, reminding him of how “Ye Li” had slapped his face and smacked his head before.

He shot Ye Li a fearful glance, clutching Jiang Mai’s sleeve as he hid behind him.

Ye Li inwardly cursed the original owner—what a scumbag, laying hands on such a little kid. Serves him right to die.

He bent down, smiling kindly. “Xiao Ya, with Grandpa Lizheng here, you have nothing to fear. I said I’d add two extra spoonfuls of sugar, so that’s what you’ll get. Otherwise, Grandpa Lizheng will make me kneel in the ancestral hall as punishment.”

Jiang Ya turned his small head to look at Jiang Fuzheng.

His expression wavered slightly.

Jiang Mai snorted, “First make the tofu pudding!”

Ye Li smiled at him, “I’ll add two extra spoonfuls of sugar for you later, too.”

“…I don’t want it!”

Jiang Mai snorted again.

A weasel paying New Year’s respects to a chicken— there were no good intentions!

Hearing this, Ye Li turned and walked to the cupboard, pulling out a small clay jar about the size of a palm.

He held the jar up and waved it in Jiang Mai’s direction. “You really don’t want it? I admit I was wrong before, but this jar of sugar never hit you or scolded you. You should just eat it.”

Jiang Mai: “…”

The dowry silver was his brother’s, earned by selling an acre of poor-quality farmland. And this vicious good-for-nothing squandered it all on eating and drinking.

Jiang Ya peeked out from behind Jiang Mai, whispering, “I want it.”

“…Once Grandpa Lizheng leaves, he’ll beat you!” Jiang Mai sighed.

“But it’ll be in my mouth by then. He beats us every day anyway,” Jiang Ya retorted softly.

Jiang Mai: “…”

True enough.

Today, the good-for-nothing hadn’t gotten around to beating them yet.

A beating was inevitable either way.

Thinking this, he glared at Ye Li: “I want two spoonfuls too!”

“Fine, I’ll scoop it out for both of you right now.”

Ye Li set down the clay jar and reached for the coarse earthenware bowls.

The brothers’ exchange weighed heavily on his heart, prompting him to silently curse the original owner once more. He placed a spoon and two scoops of cane sugar into each of the three bowls—Jiang Fuzheng wasn’t just the Lizheng, he was also the clan head of the Jiang family.

Jiang Fuzheng’s portion of sugar couldn’t be skipped.

Jiang Fuzheng watched Ye Li’s movements with some surprise.

It seemed that this kid really had changed.

Last time he’d accidentally seen Ye Li chasing Jiang Mai with a stick, he’d deliberately come over to mediate.

But once inside, this kid hadn’t even offered him a sip of water!

Unaware of Jiang Fuzheng’s thoughts, Ye Li returned the sugar jar to its place. He then picked up the small willow basket usually used for steamed buns, lining it with a layer of burlap.

He placed the basket inside a larger clay basin.

In today’s rush, lacking a proper tofu mold, he had to improvise with the basket.

After waiting a moment longer, the tofu curds in the basin had fully coagulated.

The tofu pudding was set.

Made with salt brine, its surface was pitted and uneven, not very appealing to look at. But the inner layer was smooth and flat, much like what you’d find in breakfast shops.

Ye Li scooped the tofu pudding with a ladle into the prepared ceramic bowls.

“Uncle Jiang, please try some first,” Ye Li offered one bowl to Jiang Fuzheng.

Respecting elders came before caring for children, and since Jiang Fuzheng was also the Lizheng, Ye Li presented it to him first.

Jiang Fuzheng took the bowl, then bent down to hand it to Jiang Ya, who had been swallowing hard. “Ya-ger, you eat.”

“Grandpa Lizheng should eat.”

Jiang Ya struggled to tear his eyes away from the bowl, tucking his hands behind his back.

Ye Li quickly picked up another bowl and held it before him. “Here, little brother, eat.”

This time, Jiang Ya immediately reached out, cupping the bowl—larger than his own face—in his small hands.

He glanced cautiously at Ye Li. “Thank you, Brother Li.”

Seeing Ye Li turn to pick up the last bowl for his second brother, he relaxed and eagerly lowered his head, sipping the watery layer on top of the tofu pudding.

The sugar had settled at the bottom, undisturbed, leaving the surface water unsweetened.

Yet his face still glowed with contentment—for soon he would taste the sweetness of the tofu pudding itself.

He carried the bowl to the cutting board, set it down, and stirred the cane sugar at the bottom with a spoon.

Then he scooped a large spoonful of tofu pudding into his mouth.

The sweet taste instantly filled his entire mouth.

His eyes lit up. It was so delicious!

Jiang Mai also tasted the sweet tofu pudding now. He licked his lips, marveling at its deliciousness while glancing at Ye Li in puzzlement.

This vicious fool actually made tofu pudding…

Jiang Fuzheng scooped a large spoonful into his mouth, savoring it carefully. It tasted exactly like the one sold in the county town.

Soft and tender, smooth and silky.

And sweet as can be.

He, too, was puzzled. His sharp gaze swept over Ye Li: “You’re from the Ye family. How did you learn to make tofu?”

“Uncle Jiang, this…”

“I’ll tell my husband when he returns from the private school.”

Ye Li’s delicate features showed his unease.

He hadn’t figured out how to explain it yet.

The original owner was just a countryside husband—he’d never had the chance to learn to make tofu.

So he’d blame it on his husband for now.

His husband, Jiang Ji, studied at the private school in the county seat. Yezaopo Village was only three li away, but his husband rarely came home.

Because he was busy “working to pay for his studies.”

In ancient times, pursuing education was an exorbitant expense.

Though supported by others, his husband still needed to find ways to earn his own money.

Beiyang County was situated at the junction where southern boats met northern horses. Twenty li north of the county town lay the Nantong Canal of the Great Xia Dynasty.

All northbound waterborne traffic passed through Beiyang County, drawing numerous merchants and travelers to the county seat. This bustling activity created ample opportunities for odd jobs.

Whether copying books for publishers or hauling heavy loads for others, his cheap husband had no time to return home.

Several days remained before his return, giving him ample time to concoct a plausible excuse.