Though merely a town, Baxian Town, as the starting point of the Nantong Canal, was quite bustling.

The road from the wharf to the town entrance, less than two li in length, was lined with all manner of stalls on both sides.

The Liu family’s pancake stall was near the town entrance.

Business was neither booming nor sluggish.

This was because the surrounding area was packed with vendors selling food.

Some sold steamed buns, fried dough sticks, and meat pies; others offered dumplings and noodles—dumplings for the journey, noodles for the return—both being popular fare.

Still, relying on this pancake stall was far better than farming.

Beiyang County was mountainous with scarce arable land, and each person received only a limited plot.

Had it not been for that bandit raid twenty years prior that slaughtered all the local landlords, the villagers would have had even less land.

Liu Yi arrived at the stall just as lunchtime began, yet only two customers were waiting.

He was long accustomed to this.

No boats were docked at the moment, meaning no out-of-town customers. With numerous food stalls nearby, his parents could sell about a hundred pancakes a day, earning thirty or forty wen.

It wasn’t a fortune, but it was steady.

After sending off the two customers, Liu’s mother asked him, “Have you had breakfast?”

Liu Yi replied, “I’ve eaten.”

“Dry or wet?” Though she asked, she didn’t wait for Liu Yi’s reply. She lifted the cotton quilt off the winnowing basket and pulled out a steaming-hot pancake.

Liu Yi smiled as he took the pancake. “Of course, we eat dry ones in the morning. The men have to work the fields—how could they manage without a proper meal? Father steamed some spinach corn cakes.“

Liu’s mother rolled her eyes at this. ”How could corn cakes compare to our pancakes? Eat up.“

”You’re such a worry. I named you ‘Yi’, hoping you’d always have enough to eat. Look at you now, barely scraping by on porridge.”

“Mother, only dinner is thin.”

Liu Yi corrected with a smile.

But before his mother could glare at him, he turned away and asked her to fetch the clay jar from the bamboo basket.

“Mother, with this clay jar, the Ye family won’t just have solid meals every day soon—we’ll even get to eat meat now and then.”

“Is it filled with gold?” Mother Liu cradled the heavy clay pot, her face full of doubt.

Father Liu couldn’t help but chuckle at this.

Liu Yi smiled too: “Open it and you’ll see.”

Mother Liu’s curiosity piqued, she set the pot beside the winnowing basket and lifted the lid. An intense, spicy aroma immediately enveloped her.

She gasped softly and peered inside.

Her eyes met a pool of vibrant red oil, dotted with white sesame seeds on the surface. Beneath the oil lay tender, stewed spinach and other ingredients she couldn’t quite identify.

“What is this?” she asked Liu Yi in surprise.

Liu Yi looked mysterious as he broke open the flatbread in his hand and pulled out the long chopsticks specially made this morning from his backpack.

He loaded the chopsticks with a forkful of spinach and a large string of orchid-shaped dumplings. Then he split the flatbread in half and handed it to Liu’s father and mother.

“Father, Mother, try this. See how it tastes.”

The red oil had soaked into the pancake, its vivid hue complementing the rich aroma wafting from it, making it exceptionally tempting.

Mother Liu swallowed hard and lifted the pancake to her mouth.

Having been steamed in the bamboo basket for a while, the crust was no longer crispy, just slightly chewy.

She took a bite. The chewy, fragrant pancake, mixed with the spicy aroma of spinach and the large string bean, and of course, the rich sesame paste, exploded with three distinct flavors in her mouth—utterly satisfying and delicious.

Moreover, the large skewers had been simmered for quite some time, soaking up the sauce. When she bit into them, they were not only soft and springy but also burst with juice.

This unique texture left her in awe, and she couldn’t help but take another big bite.

Delicious!

So delicious!

She pointed to the large skewers inside the pancake and asked, her words a bit slurred, “What’s this?”

“These are called orchid skewers, made from deep-fried firm tofu.”

Liu Yi explained.

“Tofu?” Liu’s mother exclaimed in surprise.

Liu’s father was also quite taken aback.

This was actually tofu?

Liu Yi simply nodded with a smile. Only after both parents had swallowed their bites of pancake and skewers did she leisurely add, “These were made by Ye Li.”

That single sentence stunned both Liu’s parents once more.

Fortunately, their mouths were empty at that moment; otherwise, they would surely have choked.

Liu Yi quickly explained the entire story from beginning to end, then asked, “Mother, do you think selling pancakes with skewers is feasible?”

“Of course it is!”

Mother Liu replied without hesitation.

Father Liu inquired, “How do you plan to price them?”

“Three tofu puffs for one wen. Large skewers are one wen each. Spinach is cheaper—one wen for a large chopstickful.”

These prices were set by Ye Li.

This time, he’d fried the tofu puffs in soybean oil, reducing the cost per catty by one wen.

With firewood costing nothing and labor expenses negligible at two wen,

The final cost per catty was five wen and three li.

Ye Li sold the tofu puffs to Ye Liang for eleven wen per catty.

But to ensure the Ye family also profited, the selling price couldn’t be too low.

After all, the seasonings were expensive—soybean oil and sesame paste were both premium ingredients.

To achieve a rich, aromatic flavor, one simply had to use more oil and sesame paste.

Three for one wen, sixty pieces equaled twenty wen.

Subtracting four wen for seasonings and eleven wen for procurement costs, the Ye family earned five wen profit per pound sold.

As for firewood and labor, the Ye family considered time and effort not a cost as long as it didn’t involve spending money.

“Hmm… that’s acceptable.”

After pondering, Mother Liu deemed it feasible.

Their flatbreads weren’t pure white flour—cornmeal was mixed in. Besides soybean oil and salt, they added a touch of the Liu family’s secret five-spice blend.

Each weighed three liang and cost two wen.

For just one more wen, customers could transform an ordinary flatbread into a delicacy—a price that wasn’t steep.

Mother Liu raised no objections, and Father Liu also found it acceptable.

Liu Yi then stood before the stall and began hawking his wares.

“Bread rolls with skewers! Delicious red-oil bread rolls with skewers! Free samples available! No obligation to buy—just come take a look, come see for yourself! Free samples! Free samples!”

He shouted with unabashed boldness, his voice clear and resonant.

His call was irresistibly catchy—the phrase “free tasting” held immense allure.

Passersby and nearby vendors alike were drawn by his shouts, glancing toward the pancake stall.

A middle-aged man driving a mule cart had already passed by the stall but turned back upon hearing the call.

Besides him, four or five other passersby gathered around.

Liu Yi recognized the middle-aged man—he was the owner of the Zhu family oil mill in town.

He greeted him with a smile: “Mr. Zhu, come try our new red oil pancakes stuffed with skewers! Look at the color—they’re delicious. Free tasting, no charge.”

Zhu Xing had indeed spotted the contents of the clay pot.

The presentation was undeniably tempting.

His stomach, just filled with breakfast, seemed hungry again. He nodded. “Alright, I’ll try it.”

“Mr. Zhu, the free tasting was originally limited to spinach, but since you’re the first to try, have some tofu puffs instead.”

Liu Yi smiled as he scooped a piece of tofu puff from the clay pot.

Zhu Xing reached out, pinched a corner, and first examined it closely with wide eyes before popping it into his mouth and chewing.

Without the pancake to block it, the bursting juices and fiery spiciness hit him even more intensely.

Of course, there was also the tofu puff’s own soft yet chewy texture.

The rich flavors and unique texture made Zhu Xing’s eyes widen instantly. So spicy!

But so delicious!

Before he could even swallow, he eagerly asked, “How much is this?”

“It’s sold with the pancakes—three for one wen. There are also larger ones, called Orchid Skewers, which are one wen each. And the spinach is one wen for a large chopstickful.”

Liu Yi quickly listed the prices, then explained, “Mr. Zhu, though these tofu puffs are made from tofu, they’re deep-fried. And look at this sauce—it’s all real ingredients.”

“Even at this price, we’re barely breaking even.” Zhu Xing ran his own oil mill. He knew exactly what was in that clay pot—whether it was more oil or more water.

Liu Yi wasn’t deceiving him.

Moreover, the lingering spicy aroma in his mouth felt like tiny claws, genuinely making his stomach growl.

“Bring me a pancake and a few of these tofu puffs,” he said.

Hearing this, Liu Yi smiled and agreed.

Nearby, Mother Liu and Father Liu quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

Yes, sold.

Though they had confidence in their tofu puffs, only when a customer actually paid for them could their hearts truly settle.

Liu Yi placed three tofu puffs and a large string of orchid-shaped skewers onto Zhu Xing’s plate.

Seeing the pancake drenched in red oil only made Zhu Xing hungrier: “Give me another pancake too, with tofu and spinach this time.”

“Sure thing!” Liu Yi replied cheerfully, his voice loud and clear.

Two pancakes with skewers—four wen for one, five wen for the other.

A perfect opening day.

Earlier, when Liu’s parents sampled the stuffed pancakes, few noticed. Now, everyone around was staring at the stall. The pancakes, soaked in red oil and puffed round with tofu puffs, looked utterly tempting.

Zhu Xing took his pancake and bit down, tearing a large hole right through it.

His cheeks puffed out, yet he nodded approvingly with every chew, his face radiating satisfaction.

This scene hooked several passersby like bait, making their Adam’s apples bob as hunger pangs surged uncontrollably.

Two people beside Zhu Xing couldn’t wait for Liu Yi to finish serving and blurted out: “Owner, give me a bun too!”

Liu Yi’s smile widened at this.

This was going too smoothly!

At the Jiang Family.

Jiang Mai sat at the dining table, his eyes sweeping over the stir-fried garlic shoots with tofu and the corn and bean curd cake before finally resting on the willow baskets atop the stove.

Two willow baskets—one brimming full, the other nearly half empty.

Today’s business was a tiny bit better than yesterday’s; thirteen pounds of tofu had already been sold.

“Hurry up and eat, it’ll get cold soon.”

Seeing him sitting motionless, Ye Li urged him.

Jiang Mai suppressed his worries, grabbed chopsticks in one hand and a pancake in the other.

He wondered if the tofu puffs would sell. If they didn’t, he and Ya-ger wouldn’t get paid tomorrow.

And it was so strange.

He was nearly consumed with worry, yet the man before him remained calm and gentle toward both him and Ya-ger.

He stole a glance at Ye Li, who was devouring the pancake and tofu with relish. His little eyebrows instantly furrowed.

Just then, Ye Liang’s voice echoed from the doorway: “Li-ger? Are you home?”

His eyes lit up. He hurriedly set down his chopsticks and scampered out of the kitchen.

Had the tofu puffs sold or not?!