The soybeans for tofu needed to soak for four hours. That evening, Yan Xiaoyu put the beans to soak.

The family cultivated an acre of soybeans, though the land wasn’t prime. Despite He Qiuhua and her daughter tending it diligently, this summer’s harvest yielded only a little over a hundred catties of beans.

Since it was his first attempt, he soaked only half a catty. In the Great Chu, one catty equaled sixteen taels. Half a catty of dry beans could make roughly two to three catties of gypsum tofu, depending on skill and the final product’s moisture content.

Village folk couldn’t afford meat, so tofu—just five wen a block—was a precious nourishing food. When Yan Xiaoyu mentioned he’d learned tofu-making in the underworld, Yan Xingmao and the others were overjoyed.

After soaking the beans, the entire family waited with eager anticipation.

Early the next morning, Yan Xiaoyu began making the tofu. The other three gathered around, watching intently.

Yan Xiaoyu sorted out the impurities and rotten beans from the soybeans, drained them, and set them aside. He then thoroughly cleaned the stone mill twice before starting to grind the beans.

Grinding beans was hard work. After grinding for a while, Yan Xiaoyue and He Qiuhua offered to help. Even Yan Xingmao seemed eager to join in, but fearing he might injure his leg again, Yan Xiaoyu only assigned him the task of adding water.

The three worked tirelessly. In less than a quarter of an hour, half a pound of beans was ground.

The raw soy milk was strained through cheesecloth into their large iron pot. A little more water was added, and the remaining bean pulp was kneaded to extract the last drops of liquid, which was also poured into the pot. The mixture was then placed over the fire to boil.

As the soy milk neared boiling, someone had to stand watch by the pot, skimming off the foam with a ladle. Once it came to a full boil, the heat was turned down low, and it simmered for a while longer to ensure it was thoroughly cooked.

Asking He Qiuhua to keep an eye on the pot, Yan Xiaoyu took the leftover bean curd residue from tofu-making, added eggs and chili peppers, and pan-fried it into bean curd residue cakes.

Once the soy milk was cooked, Yan Xiaoyu ladled out four bowls to serve with the soybean cake for breakfast.

The stove was turned off. Once the soy milk cooled slightly, gypsum water was added and stirred thoroughly with a ladle. The pot was covered to let the soy milk coagulate. No one needed to watch it now, so Yan Xiaoyu and the others took the opportunity to eat breakfast.

The steaming soy milk carried a rich bean aroma. A touch of maltose added a mellow, subtly sweet flavor. Swallowing a mouthful, Yan Xiaoyu sighed contentedly. The soft, fluffy soybean cake pancakes were fried in leftover lard from the previous day, giving them an especially fragrant scent. Yan Xiaoyu made twenty pancakes. Sharing four each with Yan Xingmao and He Qiuhua. Yan Xiaoyue devoured eight, still craving more afterward.

Watching his sister rub her belly, Yan Xiaoyu chuckled inwardly. “Don’t worry, there’s still tofu pudding.”

He lifted the pot lid. Sure enough, the tofu had set nicely, transforming into silky tofu pudding. Yan Xiaoyu ladled a large bowl for his sister, then smaller bowls for himself and his parents.

Drizzled with melted malt sugar syrup, the bean curd was silky smooth and sweet, its fragrance lingering on the palate.

He Qiuhua cradled her bowl, her heart swelling with emotion. “We… we’ve truly reached a good life now. To actually be able to eat sweet bean curd!”

Yan Xiaoyue also ate slowly, savoring every bite.

Tofu pudding wasn’t expensive—Qian’s shop sold it for two wen per bowl. Villagers occasionally bought a bowl for their children. But since Tao Cuiqing managed the Yan household finances, Yan Xingmao and He Qiuhua never had a single coin to spare. Naturally, they couldn’t afford to buy snacks for Yan Xiaoyu and his sister.

The last time Yan Xiaoyue had tofu pudding was at Yan Yongfang’s wedding banquet. The Qian family served it as a dish, but with so many guests, it vanished after just one spoonful per person.

Yan Xiaoyu recalled what Yan Xiaobao had said on moving day and raised an eyebrow. “Now that we make tofu at home, we have plenty of tofu pudding. You can have as much as you want from now on.”

Yan Xiaoyue nodded happily, and even He Qiuhua and Yan Xingmao’s faces softened into smiles.

Yan Xiaoyu transferred all the remaining bean curd into a tofu mold lined with cheesecloth. He placed the large stone he’d picked up from the stream yesterday on top of the mold. After a little over an hour, the tofu had set.

If one preferred firmer tofu, it could be pressed longer. Yan Xiaoyu preferred soft tofu, so he didn’t press it extra.

He carefully lifted the cheesecloth, revealing a large block of tofu as white and tender as jade. He Qiuhua’s eyes lit up: “It’s done! Xiaoyu really made tofu!”

Yan Xingmao and Yan Xiaoyue were also visibly moved.

Yan Xiaoyu lifted the tofu out and cut it into small pieces. “Mother, let’s send a piece each to Aunt He, the village chief, Uncle Li, and Brother Yan Er’s family. We can keep the remaining four pieces for ourselves, right?”

“Oh, yes!” He Qiuhua hurriedly agreed.

Both he and Yan Xiaoyue were a bit intimidated by Yan Shaoxuan, so one went to Niu Fugui’s house while the other went to Aunt He and Uncle Li’s. After they left, Yan Xiaoyu tidied up all the tofu-making utensils before carrying the tofu over to the neighbors.

As he stepped outside, Yan Xiaoyu caught sight of that peach tree. He swallowed hard, silently chastising himself.

He had promised Yan Shaocheng to look after Yan Shaoxuan, yet all he could think about was his peaches.

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Yan Shaoxuan hadn’t ventured out much these past few days, only occasionally making trips to the county town. Each time he passed Yan Xiaoyu’s house, he’d see the young lad working in the yard, splitting firewood while humming tunes, always radiating such vibrant energy. This cheerfulness seemed to rub off on He Qiuhua and Yan Xiaoyue, no longer the perpetually gloomy faces they once wore.

When he saw him, Yan Xiaoyu still greeted him, though his attitude wasn’t as warm as before, and his smile wasn’t as bright.

Yan Shaoxuan felt a vague, indescribable emotion welling up inside him. He thought Yan Xiaoyu was being rude, hiding his smile when he saw him, which made him unhappy.

Yan Shaoxuan admonished himself not to nitpick over such trivial matters, yet he couldn’t help but observe Yan Xiaoyu closely, noting how he smiled at others.

If he didn’t smile for him but was all smiles for everyone else, that wouldn’t do.

Fortunately, Yan Xiaoyu only laughed heartily with Aunt He and Liu Tiao. The village men, with their sharp tongues, could provoke him with just a few words, nearly sparking a fight. Naturally, he didn’t give them a friendly look.

Once, Wang Erdou’s father sought out He Qiuhua in the fields, urging her to stop being so picky and find someone to marry off her daughter quickly. Otherwise, if Yan Xiaoyue remained an old maid, it would affect the matchmaking prospects for the village’s young men and women.

When Yan Xiaoyu overheard, he cursed Wang Erdou’s entire lineage and nearly came to blows with the boy.

Yan Shaoxuan happened to return from the county town just then and witnessed the scene. Furious that Yan Xiaoyu dared to take on an entire family single-handedly, he strode over with a grim face, intent on giving Old Wang a stern lecture.

What right did a sixty- or seventy-year-old man have to meddle in a young woman’s marriage prospects? And Wang Erdou—a grown man—how dare he lay a hand on a young ger?!

Yan Shaoxuan halted mid-stride when the village chief’s wife, Yu Chunying, stepped in to restrain Wang Erdou.

Yan Xiaoyu knew nothing of this. Burning with rage, he’d been berating the Wang family relentlessly, not even glancing to the side.

So when Yan Shaoxuan felt awkward around him today, Yan Xiaoyu remained completely oblivious.

“We made tofu at home. Here, take a piece to eat.”

Yan Shaoxuan looked at the ger whose forehead barely reached his chin, his expression slightly uncomfortable. “Thank you.”

Fearing Yan Shaoxuan might misinterpret his intentions, Yan Xiaoyu declared earnestly, “No need to thank me. I regard Brother Yan as my own elder brother. Looking out for you is only right. A piece of tofu is nothing.”

Treating his elder brother like a real brother? Taking care of him is only right? What kind of relationship is that?!

This ger really has some nerve!

Yan Shaoxuan’s heartbeat quickened, his earlobes flushing crimson. Just as he was about to speak, Yan Xiaoyu flashed him a wide grin.

“Brother Yan.”

Why was he smiling like that, his tone so gentle? Yan Shaoxuan’s heart skipped a beat, fearing he might utter something shocking: “My mind is entirely focused on the prefectural exams.”

Such a momentous matter in life couldn’t be treated lightly. Even if he had feelings for someone, he should proceed with caution—how could he be so casual?

He finished speaking hastily, then pretended nonchalance while secretly observing Yan Xiaoyu’s expression, waiting to see how he would respond.

Yan Xiaoyu looked utterly baffled: “So you won’t have time to pick the ripe peaches in the courtyard? Should I pick them for you?”

Though Yan Shaocheng had said they could eat freely, they were still the Yan family’s trees. Naturally, Yan Shaoxuan should be prioritized.

“Peaches?” Yan Shaoxuan froze for a moment before snapping to attention. So he was eyeing his family’s peaches!

“Help yourselves,” Yan Shaoxuan said dryly, then carried his bowl inside.

Tsk, how rude! He hadn’t even returned the bowl yet! Yan Xiaoyu rolled his eyes in exasperation and turned to head home.