Chapter Bonanza (9/10)

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Upon returning from Xu Village, the shop had already been tidied up, and the previously ordered goods had arrived. Mrs. Tong, A-Liang, and Xiao Mi were in charge: Mrs. Tong and A-Liang managed the front of the shop, stocking items like plates and chopsticks, as well as vases, teacups, and the like.

In short, they were handling everything related to the restaurant.

Tang’s Restaurant wasn’t cheap, and Mr. Tang took his business very seriously and meticulously. He insisted on consistent service, occasionally updating the menu to keep things fresh, and paid close attention to the dining environment—constantly checking bowls, chopsticks, and plates, replacing any that were chipped or worn out.

Xiao Mi, on the other hand, was in charge of receiving and managing supplies for the kitchen: rice, flour, cooking oil, spices, coal, and so on.

The three of them had gone through the process of closing and reopening the restaurant several times by now, so they handled it with ease.

After Tang Xianling returned, he listened to the trio’s progress report. Upon finishing, he nodded. “We’ll open in two days. In the meantime, bake some Treasure Balls. Everyone should work as usual, and post a sign at the entrance saying we’ll reopen in two days.”

Over the next two days, in addition to making Treasure Balls, they’d also have to come up with new menu items.

On his journey from Fengyuan City to Lujing, Tang Xianling had taken note of the flavors of the local cuisine along the way, and he had some ideas in mind—for example, regarding river seafood dishes.

Further south, there were many waterways, and the locals ate plenty of river and lake delicacies—mostly inexpensive, plentiful ingredients like dried small fish, dried shrimp, and dried scallops.

Tang Xianling had asked merchants from Tingjiang Prefecture how they would go about delivering goods to this area.

These dried goods can be used to make soups or congee.

Then there’s the rice slurry from Tingjiang Prefecture—its naturally fermented sourness is actually quite distinctive. However, as the locals have noted, if not prepared properly, it can sometimes cause stomachaches in the summer, so handling this fermented rice slurry really puts even seasoned cooks to the test.

The weather had turned a bit chilly by then, and with nothing else to do at home, Tang Xianling decided to try fermenting a bowl of rice slurry. He wrapped the bowl and placed it on the top shelf of the stove, where it would be warm but not too hot. He hadn’t yet decided what to do with it; at the time, he was just thinking he’d give it a try.

Two days later, the Tang Family Restaurant reopened.

Aunt Tong and A-Liang changed into their slightly thicker fall work uniforms—a top and pants—with aprons tied around their waists. Their hair was pulled back and wrapped in cloth, and they looked neat and tidy as they began stocking the display cases by the street-facing windows.

Since the Tang Family Restaurant had been closed for so long, even with two days’ advance notice, there weren’t many customers today. Still, some people hadn’t given up hope; with the weather turning cold, they craved mutton and came by to see if the restaurant was open. As soon as they saw it, smiles immediately spread across their faces.

“How surprising—it’s actually open.”

“What are you selling here?”

No sooner had the customer asked than—before Aunt Tong and A-Liang could answer—he realized what it was. “Treasure Balls? Hey, that’s exactly it. Give me two jin; put them in my bag first.”

They were afraid that if they didn’t buy them right away—and waited until after dinner—they’d be sold out.

The customer found a seat and said as he pulled out his cash, “This Mid-Autumn Festival just wouldn’t be the same without Tang’s mooncakes. Those at Xingbaozhai in the West Market just don’t cut it—they’ve been getting worse every year.”

Aunt Tong packed up the Treasure Balls, took the cash, and, while she was at it, asked the diner what he was planning to eat, then began to make some recommendations.

Naturally, it was lamb.

It had rained for over ten days recently, and the atmosphere had suddenly grown much more bleak.

Mr. Tang brought out the cast-iron pot of mutton soup, and the customer ordered a pot.

Unlike mutton offal soup—which is cheap and made entirely from offal—the cast-iron pot mutton soup contains only carefully selected cuts of mutton and lamb ribs, simmered until tender and free of any gamey flavor. After finishing the meat and broth, the fire beneath the pot remains lit, so you can add some vegetables, potatoes, and tofu to the pot and continue cooking.

This is actually somewhat similar to hot pot, but the flavor is different—the mutton soup is richer.

At that moment, the Tang Family Restaurant was deserted, with only one diner. This diner leisurely ladled a bowl of mutton soup; the hot steam hit his face. He lowered his head to blow on the rim of the bowl, then took a sip of the soup—and a smile immediately lit up his eyes.

That’s it, that’s it—that’s exactly the taste.

It hasn’t changed.

The diner leisurely savored the mutton hot pot.

No other customers came into the shop. Mrs. Tong and A-Liang found places to sit—one stayed at the counter while the other went to the back to see if there was anything that needed doing. No one was talking or fretting about the lack of customers; everything was quiet.

“Such a rare moment of peace and quiet,” the customer eating the mutton hot pot remarked. “I’m almost out of practice with it.”

Tieniu, behind the counter, smiled at this and walked over to refill the customer’s teacup, saying, “Take your time. We brought this tea back from Lujing—it’s just ordinary tea leaves, but it has a unique flavor.”

“Since you say so, young boss, I’ll give it a try.” The customer picked up the teacup and took a sip. Sure enough, the taste was unique—a rough, astringent flavor at first, but a sweet aftertaste followed, and paired with the mutton soup, it left his mouth feeling much fresher.

“Not bad at all.”

Tang’s Restaurant is just like a cup of tea—it looks like an unremarkable little place, and the ingredients are ordinary and inexpensive, but the food they serve, paired with a simple cup of tea, tastes even better than expected.

“You seem to be in a good mood this time, little boss,” a diner remarked casually.

Tieniu nodded and smiled. “Everything’s fine. I’ve settled things and erected a symbolic grave for my maternal grandfather. A matter that’s weighed on my heart for many years is finally resolved.”

“That’s great news, that’s great news.”

Tieniu didn’t want to disturb the diners’ meal.

The diners continued to sip their mutton soup and savor their tea. Before long, they began to feel warm all over, and then—

“It’s really opened today!” 

“I told you it would be in two days—it’s even written down here, but you wouldn’t believe me.” 

“People were saying it was going to open before, too, but it turned out to be a false alarm.” 

“Oh, they’re selling treasure balls? Give me two jin.” 

“I’ll take some, too.”

“Winter’s almost here—we just made it in time.”

“I didn’t get to eat any mooncakes this year, so I’ll buy extra Treasure Balls.”

The customer who’d been eating the mutton soup was all smiles. Four new customers walked in, glanced around, saw that others were already digging in, and exchanged cheerful nods and greetings.

“You got here even before us.”

The mutton soup customer: “Just happened to drop by.”

The shop had a quiet, leisurely atmosphere when it was empty, but it became lively when more people arrived. That’s just how Tang’s Restaurant is. Even though it’s been closed for three months, it won’t be long before customers flock here again, and you’ll have to line up just to get a seat.

By the way, when hot pot season rolls around this winter, you’ll have to come early to secure a seat.

During the previous closures, Jiang Yun, Aunt Tong, and A-Liang had all been worried—wondering if no one would show up when they first reopened, if customers had forgotten about the place, or if a new restaurant had opened nearby. But now that it was open, with only one customer in half a shi, everyone remained calm and went about their business as usual.

Sure enough, by noon the place was packed, and things started to get busy.

Tang Xianling had forgotten about the rice paste. It wasn’t until three days later, when Xiao Mi reminded him and asked the boss about it, that Tang Xianling suddenly remembered. “Oh, that’s right. Let me take a look.”

“Boss, I thought you wanted to let it sit a little longer. I went over to sniff it yesterday, and there was a faint smell of alcohol on the gauze,” said Xiao Mi.

Tang Xianling:???

A smell of alcohol?

He set the bowl down on the cutting board, unwrapped the soft cloth covering it, and saw that the rice paste inside had grown moldy and had turned slightly green. There was no way this was edible—it had gone bad.

Tang Xianling poured the contents of the bowl away; the bowl would have to be sterilized with boiling water. Noticing that the soft cloth beside it had a certain scent, he leaned in to take a whiff—and sure enough, there was a faint smell of rice wine. 

Tang Xianling: …?

“Tieniu, come smell this.” Tang Xianling held the soft cloth up to Tieniu’s nose.

“It does smell a bit like rice wine.”

Jiang Yun said, “To me, it smells a bit like sweet fermented glutinous rice—just with a stronger alcohol scent.”

Tang Xianling muttered: Rice wine and sweet fermented glutinous rice porridge are easy to make, but let’s wait a bit longer before making liquor.

No rush.

His place was still just a small restaurant; they had to take things one bite at a time.

A few days later, the custom pastry boxes Mr. Tang had ordered arrived. Last year, he’d lost a profit by having a middleman package his “Treasure Balls,” but this year, Mr. Tang planned to keep the profits for himself.

The “Treasure Balls” sold to outside customers were smaller, but this time Tang Xianling planned to make both a small version and a slightly larger one. The slightly larger version would be shaped like a pagoda—pointed at the top and cylindrical at the bottom—so it would stand upright without toppling over, with crispy persimmon-flavored strips winding all the way down from top to bottom.

This isn’t a “Treasure Ball”—it’s called a “Treasure Tower.”

Tang Xianling was making these pastries according to last year’s gift list. Just as he was nearly finished, the maid from last year—the one they’d been expecting—arrived.

Lu Sanniang was delighted and hurried to usher her in.

“Of course, of course. Please have a seat, guest,” Lu Sanniang said, ushering her into the main hall.

The Song family’s maid said, “That’s good enough.”

From the tone of her voice, Sanniang could tell that this aristocratic-looking young lady seemed to have let out a sigh of relief. But since the restaurant had closed down, this young lady hadn’t shown up—if she had, the neighbors in the district would surely remember her.

Tang Xianling picked out a box of the finished products and carried it into the main hall. The maid glanced at him and stood up. Tang Xianling smiled and said, “My shop had to close unexpectedly this year due to some urgent matters, but fortunately, I was still able to get the last batch of Treasure Balls. This is a collector’s edition I made myself—take a look and see what you think.”

He opened the lid to reveal sixteen compartments inside, half filled with Treasure Pagoda and half with Treasure Balls.

“These are Treasure Pagoda—they taste just like the Treasure Balls, but they’re a bit bigger.”

The maid lifted the flap of her hood to take a closer look; satisfaction shone in her eyes as she looked up. “Your craftsmanship is excellent—much nicer than what that vendor sold last year.”

Last year’s were wrapped in gold-foil paper.

“You’re too kind,” Tang Xianling said with a smile. “I took two taels of silver from you last year, so I won’t charge you for these pastries.”

Hearing this, the maid said, “In our Song family, we never take food for free.” She pulled out her purse and placed a silver ingot on the table. “Here, take this.”

Tang Xianling:…

It would be nice to have more customers like this—generous and unassuming.

“Well, thank you,” said Mr. Tang with a smile as he accepted the cash.

The maid was satisfied and gave the owner a look of approval. “You don’t beat around the bush—that’s good.” She then set down her veil, closed the lid of the box, and walked away briskly, carrying the pastry box.

Tang Xianling took back the ten taels of silver, watched the guest’s retreating figure, and smiled.

If someone offers something, you should accept it graciously; otherwise, such a distinguished guest might take offense.

He and Tieniu had made a trip to Lujing. They hadn’t spent much on meals along the way—he and Tieniu had traveled in the most ordinary, basic cabins on the boat, without indulging in any luxuries. But once they arrived in Lujing, they rented a private room while waiting for the chili seeds, and had to pay for food and drink; naturally, the chili seeds were the biggest expense.

This trip to Lujing cost nearly one hundred taels of silver.

To save up capital for the restaurant, Big Boss Tang is now living very frugally!

So from the day he opened until just before the Lunar New Year, aside from the standard weekends off, Brother Tang’s restaurant stayed open nonstop. Especially after the hot pot dishes were introduced, the Tang family was swamped—they even had to hire two temporary workers for a month.

Ten days before the New Year, they took their annual holiday as usual.

Tang Xianling calculated the year-end bonuses for everyone. This year, the Cui family—father and son—received slightly higher bonuses, while Mrs. Tong, A-Liang, and Xiao Mi received the same amount. Lu Sanniang received one tael less because she had only recently joined the team and hadn’t worked there very long.

Of course, there were also New Year gift packages.

“Boss, you’ve always said we need to live frugally,” Mrs. Tong joked.

Just before the New Year, when they went out for hot pot, the boss was so tired he was rubbing his lower back, and the young boss gave him a shoulder massage. The boss grumbled, “We have to be frugal and save money—so what if I’m tired?”

Tang Xianling heard this and teased back, acting like a wealthy, carefree boss: “I’ll save my own money, but I can still afford to pay out employee benefits. I’m not short on this little bit from you all—let’s all have a wonderful, joyful New Year.”

“Got it.”

“Thank you, boss.”

Everyone exchanged auspicious wishes. With cold, hard cash in hand, everyone—and their families—felt a sense of security. Some planned to buy fabric for new clothes during the New Year, while others hoped to save up for a few more years to buy a small courtyard house. Everyone had something to look forward to in life, and it was that sense of hope that brought a sparkle to their eyes.

For Tang Xianling, his short-term “hope” was next year’s chili crop, while his long-term “hope” was his restaurant.

He wanted to expand his restaurant. Since he was going to expand anyway, he might as well go all the way and turn it into a full-fledged restaurant. With a restaurant, he wouldn’t have to worry about customers—it was all about the connections behind the scenes. That was why Big Boss Tang worked year after year to solidify relationships with his major clients, paying them New Year’s visits and presenting them with gifts.

Next came the preparations for the New Year: sweeping, bathing, tidying up, and visiting the graves.

This year, on his way back from visiting the graves, he ran into Sanniang with Xiangxiang at the door. Tang Xianling was taken aback for a moment, then overjoyed. Zhao Xiangxiang called out, “Uncle, Uncle,” and Tang Xianling gave the young lady a hug; Xiangxiang had shot up another notch in height.

“We were just coming back from visiting the graves. When did you guys arrive?”

“We’ve been here for two days. We heard from the neighbors that you’d gone out of town to visit the graves, so we stayed at the inn,” said Tang Nuan. She’d been keeping track of the days and figured it was about time to come by.

Tang Xianling ruffled the little girl’s hair and spoke to Sanniang: “Where are Sanniang’s husband and Lei’er? Come inside and say hello first—you must be frozen to the bone.” He rubbed the little girl’s cheeks.

Zhao Xiangxiang clung to his Uncle and wouldn’t let go. Tang Nuan said, “How old are you, anyway?”

“I’m still just a kid,” Tang Xianling said, knowing his sister was referring to Xiangxiang, and deliberately speaking nonsense.

Everyone laughed at that, and Tang Nuan dropped the subject of her daughter to return to their earlier conversation: “Your brother-in-law is here too—he’s at the inn. I didn’t want him to make a special trip, so he took Lei’er to the East Market to play.”

Tang Xianling smiled at this and said, “That’s great.”

Sanniang certainly had a knack for “dispatching” her husband.

“He was supposed to come back last year, but right before the New Year, Lei’er caught a cold and ran a high fever,” Tang Nuan explained.

Jiang Yun was startled. “Is the child all right? It’s cold out, and you have a long journey. If you come back in the future, you don’t have to bring the child—just come yourself.”

“He’s fine. We had a doctor examine him—it was just a real scare,” Tang Nuan said. Then, catching the implication in her mother’s words, she pursed her lips and smiled slightly, looking a bit like Zhao Xiangxiang had when she’d been clinging to her uncle’s youngest daughter earlier.

She knew her mother was thinking of her and looking forward to her return.

Tang Nuan was happy.

“After my little brother got better, he was so upset. He said he missed coming back and missed Uncle. He threw quite a tantrum this year—he even acted like a little puppy at home,” Zhao Xiangxiang said with a laugh, recounting her brother’s embarrassing moment.

Tang Xianling: “What do you mean, ‘acting like a puppy’?”

“He rolled around on the floor at home.”

Tang Xianling: …Hahahahaha.

Zhao Xiangxiang liked Uncle Tang precisely because he always took the time to chat with her seriously. She continued chattering on about what they’d brought with them, while Tang Xianling listened and nodded. He turned to his sister and asked, “What are dried vegetables?”

“It’s a local specialty from Shijingfu. I saw you like to cook, so I bought some especially. It’s not heavy; you have to soak it in cold water to rehydrate it. It’s delicious in soup and has a slightly salty flavor,” Tang Nuan explained.

Salty? Is it kelp? No, Shijingfu isn’t near any rivers or the sea.

“You’ll know what it tastes like once you try it.”

After that, they helped Sanniang settle in. Since Tang Xianling was going to cook, he called out to Tieniu to harness the cart, emphasizing the word “personally”: “You must personally go pick up Sanniang’s husband, Lei’er.”

Tang Nuan laughed upon hearing this and tattled to her mother, saying, “Wu-ger has become quite the prankster these days.”

“Go roughhouse with him—I won’t take sides,” Jiang Yun said impartially.

Tang Nuan replied, “I won’t roughhouse. I only come back once a year, so playing with him is about as good as it gets.”

This little brother of hers was so lively—how fun he was.

She knew her husband Zhao Jing’s temperament well. Sometimes Tang Nuan wondered if her sisters and younger brother looked down on her for being so submissive and humble, but now that her younger brother had teased her so openly—it meant she had her husband wrapped around her finger and knew exactly how to handle him.

Tang Nuan thought about it and realized, “That’s right.”

Before New Year’s Eve, Erniang came with the children, but her husband didn’t come this time.

Zhao Jing, who was still applying eye drops nearby—he certainly didn’t mean any harm; it was just his nature—said, “Could it be that my second sister’s husband looks down on our place? Our family from Shijing Prefecture has already arrived, but Cuilin Town is running late. Nuanniang, our hearts are sincere.”

Tang Xianling:…

Tang Nuan gave her husband a playful scolding and hurried to take her second sister’s hand.

“I know your hearts are in the right place—you’re thinking of me here. Both you and Sanniang have been so thoughtful.” Jiang Yun first reassured her third son-in-law, then smoothed things over: “I’m afraid Bo’an must have had something come up.”

Zhao Jing also caught on—he’d just been trying to show off a bit and make a few jokes, just like he’d learned from his Fifth Younger Brother. Nuanniang always said that his younger brother was mischievous and witty these days, so he’d been trying to imitate him. Now, hearing his mother-in-law speak this way and give him a way out, he felt even more pleased and smug.

He’d even outshone Cui Bo’an!

Tang Zhen chimed in with her mother and younger brother: “An urgent matter came up unexpectedly back in the countryside—something to do with the fields, I think, though I’m not entirely sure. Anyway, they were pressing Bo’an so hard that I brought the children back first. He said it wasn’t urgent and that he’d come to pick us up after the New Year when the weather warms up.”

“Is this a legitimate matter, or is the main business more important?” Tang Nuan asked. Her husband had just made that remark, and she was afraid her second sister might be upset, so she quickly added, “But the main business comes first.”

Tang Xianling took the four children. The children really did grow like weeds—they’d gotten a whole size bigger and could walk now, though bundled up so thickly for winter, layer upon layer, they looked clumsy and had trouble moving.

As usual, they had the children sit on the daybed to chat and play.

Si-ger could talk now and sat there very quietly, holding a pastry in his hands and nibbling on it slowly. The young ladies sat together in close camaraderie. The three sisters started talking about tracing and embroidering patterns, and Zhao Xiangxiang asked why she didn’t know about it, after which they chattered away for a while.

After listening, Zhao Xiangxiang went to pester her parents, insisting she wanted to stay and learn how to trace floral patterns too.

“Don’t be silly,” Zhao Jing said. It was too far from home, and once the New Year festivities began and things got busy, he wouldn’t have time to come pick her up. Besides, his mother-in-law was swamped running her business—with the restaurant bustling with customers all the time—was he supposed to have his daughter go out front to help out?

His daughter Xiangxiang had inherited the best traits from both him and Nuanniang, so he definitely had to be cautious.

Zhao Xiangxiang pouted unhappily. Zhao Jing glanced at Nuannuan, gave a look that said, “I really have no choice,” and said, “Here’s what we’ll do: when we get back, if you want to learn needlework, we’ll go ask at the embroidery shop. But embroidery strains the eyes and requires a steady hand—if you’re as mischievous and playful as you are, you certainly won’t stick with it for long.”

As Zhao Jing spoke, he suddenly realized that sending his daughter to learn embroidery might actually be a good idea.

When Xiangxiang was still a little girl, it was fine for her to be a bit mischievous—he and Nuanniang were always there to keep an eye on her. But now that she’s a bit older, she needs to settle down a bit. Even if she doesn’t learn this to earn money to help support the household, at the very least she’ll become more composed, and spending time with Nuanniang will help her develop a better temperament.

His daughter was just too much like him; Lei’er, on the other hand, took after Nuanniang’s temperament.

As Zhao Jing thought of this, his heart swelled with a father’s tenderness. Worried about his daughter’s future, he couldn’t help but wish he could pack her up right then and take her back to the manor to learn embroidery.

Zhao Xiangxiang: …

She just wanted to stay at her grandmother’s house; she didn’t really want to learn how to embroider any patterns. She went to plead with her mother.

Tang Nuan stroked her daughter’s cheek and could only smile. “It’s too late. Your father has set his mind on it—there’s no getting around it. I can’t talk him out of it either.”

Zhao Xiangxiang: …Resigned to her fate!

Tang Xianling had originally planned to make some snacks for the little girl to cheer her up, but he noticed that Xiangxiang was quick to shift her focus—she didn’t seem particularly upset or sad at all. Before long, she was happily playing with the three sisters again, telling her mother exactly what she wanted to eat.

“Aren’t you still worried about having to learn embroidery when you go back?”

Zhao Xiangxiang, munching on a little cake, was overjoyed. “That’s all for after the New Year,” she said. “I haven’t learned it yet anyway, so I’d rather just enjoy the holiday first. Otherwise, I won’t even be able to celebrate properly.”

Hearing her resilient attitude, Tang Xianling smiled and ruffled the child’s hair.

On the fourth day of the New Year, Zhao Jing took his wife and daughter home. Before they left, Tang Nuan said, “I won’t be coming next year.”

Jiang Yun understood. The Shi Jing estate was a long way from Fengyuan City; it wasn’t feasible to make the trip home every year and stay for the entire festival—spending the whole holiday on the road, only to arrive just in time for the final few days of the New Year. There were bound to be some complaints from Sanniang’s in-laws as well.

“I know. Zhao Jing is truly generous and magnanimous to bring you back to see me every other year. I’m grateful for this blessing. I’m happy whenever you come—I can’t wait for it. But if you can’t make it, just have a good New Year at home without the hassle of traveling; I’ll be happy with that too,” Jiang Yun said.

Hearing this, Zhao Jing felt relieved. He had accommodated Nuanniang’s return for two years now; as long as Nuanniang remembered it well and his mother-in-law did too, that was enough.

As usual, Tang Xianling baked plenty of pastries for the children to eat on the journey.

Zhao Xiangxiang knew they wouldn’t be coming back next year either, and she immediately hung her head in dejection. Zhao Lei whispered from beside her, “Sis, don’t worry. If you want to come back next year, I’ll beg Grandpa and Grandma on my hands and knees.”

“Are you going to act like a puppy again?” Zhao Xiangxiang shot her younger brother a glance. “Don’t be like that. When you’re older, the two of us will come back together.”

Upon hearing this, the young Zhao Lei immediately declared with boundless enthusiasm, “Sis! Wait until I grow up—I’ll protect you. If Mom and Dad don’t come, the two of us will. We’ll come every single year.”

Tang Xianling: Grinning from ear to ear.

Zhao Lei clearly took after his third brother-in-law a bit, but since he was still so young, it was quite amusing to watch him being teased by his sister—which just goes to show that when it comes to personality, what you might see as a flaw can actually be a unique quality if it clicks with the right person.

The siblings’ antics dispelled the melancholy of parting. The adults cheerfully saw the children off to the carriage, waving as the carriage’s silhouette vanished at the end of the alley, out of sight.

Once Sanniang’s family had left, Erniang moved back into the courtyard with the children. As before, Erniang slept with Mother, while the three sisters and Si-ger slept on the divan. Tang Xianling felt it was a bit cramped and suggested they remodel the main hall.

“No need,” said Tang Zhen. “Why go to all that trouble?”

Tang Xianling replied, “You’ll be living there with the children for several months—it’s important that you’re comfortable.”

“It won’t be that long—several months,” Tang Zhen said, though her face showed little sign of a smile; she simply didn’t want to trouble her younger brother by making such a big change to the main hall.

Jiang Yun chimed in, “All right then, let’s listen to your second sister.”

“All right, then,” Tang Xianling agreed.

Tang Xianling still had his own work to do—growing chili peppers.

He remembered that chili peppers thrive in heat; nowadays, they can be grown in both northern and southern regions and aren’t particularly finicky or hard to cultivate. Thanks to the Zhao family, when he bought the chili peppers, he’d asked the shopkeeper who’d sailed out to sea with them. The shopkeeper was deeply tanned, looking like a wild man returning to civilization, and had told them a lot about the environmental temperatures in chili-growing regions and how to care for the plants.

Given the climate in Fengyuan City, early April was the best time to plant them.

Xu Village was remote and isolated; previously, it had been difficult for villagers to travel to the city or town to shop. But now, the village’s seclusion and lack of nearby settlements had an advantage—Tang Xianling wanted to keep this a secret and seize the market first.

The villagers were simple and honest, and the village chief was easy to work with—over the past two or three years, he had taken on the contract for most of Xu village’s duck eggs, and the villagers were warm and trusting toward him; that was the bond of mutual interest.

He’s not saying he’ll corner the entire chili market—that’s impossible—but he wants to seize the early opportunity. Later, when chili spreads from Lujing to Fengyuan City, or if someone manages to get their hands on chili seeds and starts growing them, that won’t happen until the year after next. He plans to make the first wave of cash.

Now, returning to Xu Village—where it’s still snowing in winter—he’s naturally here to pay New Year’s calls and discuss matters in advance with Uncle Zhang and Uncle Wang: how to plant the chili peppers and how to split the profits, laying the groundwork ahead of time.