Inside the cart, the three sisters were crying.

Tieniu pulled back the curtain of the cart. Inside were the three little girls and Si-ger. Tieniu said first, “Don’t cry. Uncle will carry you down. We’re home.”

Tang Zhen was sobbing uncontrollably in her mother’s arms. Hearing her daughters’ voices, she suddenly remembered she had a child of her own; she wiped away her tears and rose from her mother’s embrace.

“We’re home. We’re all home.” Jiang Yun, her eyes brimming with tears as well, gently patted Erniang’s shoulder and said, “Let’s go back to the room and talk.”

Tieniu had invited the coachman in to rest for the night; it was too late to head to an inn now, and he was afraid the man wouldn’t be able to find the West Market.

The coachman was from Cuilin Town and wasn’t familiar with Fengyuan City. Having heard that one shouldn’t be out on the main streets at night, he accepted his hosts’ invitation to stay and, putting his pride aside, decided to stay for the night.

Tieniu and Jiang Yun first settled everyone in. Jiang Yun kept repeating, “It’s good to be home, it’s good to be home.”

She repeated it many times.

As Tang Zhen listened, her mind gradually settled. During these days of traveling, she had felt as if she had lost herself—unaware of what she was doing, what she was thinking, or even why she was there. At times, she would reproach herself in her mind: “Why did I have to be so impulsive, just up and leaving like that?”

At other times, she would silently shed tears, wondering what her life had amounted to all these years.

But what choice did she have? Was she supposed to let her child end up just like her?

But if she left, did that mean she was truly giving up on that home and that husband? What if this turned into a big scandal, and her husband didn’t come to persuade her or comfort her—how could she ever go back?

But if she went back, there wouldn’t be a place for her in that home anymore.

……

Back and forth she went, recalling the past, her thoughts a tangled web of regret and mixed emotions. But at this very moment, as she looked at her children—her three daughters with their hair in disarray—the eldest, already old enough to understand what was happening, her eyes filled with panic and fear, yet still doing her best to look after her younger sisters and brother.

Si-ger wasn’t crying or fussing; he let his older sister lead him by the hand.

The children’s faces were etched with the unease of those who had just narrowly escaped a nightmare.

Two tears slowly rolled down Tang Zhen’s cheeks. This time, she didn’t cry while leaning against her mother; instead, she reached up to wipe away her tears, then went over to hug the children. “Mama’s right here. Mama’s right here.”

The eldest’s eyes reddened, while Erniang and Sanniang clung tightly to their mother and began to cry; the fourth son obediently clung to his mother’s thigh.

The whole family wept together in the courtyard for a while.

Tieniu first took care of the coachman, paid him the fare, and—even though Erniang had already paid him—he still gave him a little extra as a tip. “Thank you for taking such good care of my Second Sister and the children during our journey these past few days.”

The driver couldn’t refuse—and was actually happy to have some extra cash—so he accepted it and sighed, “Erniang hasn’t had it easy either. We’re all from the same town. The Cui family used to have such a good reputation—how could they do something like this? It’s truly a disgrace.”

Tieniu thanked him again and told his mother he was going to the kitchen to cook some porridge and boil some hot water.

“Right, right—I’ll come too. Erniang and the kids haven’t eaten yet, and it’s already dark; there’s no food for sale out there,” Jiang Yun said.

Tieniu nodded and said to Second Sister, “Xianling is asleep. I’ll carry him into the room first. Second Sister, you take the kids to the main hall to rest for a while.” He also showed the coachman to the staff lunchroom and told him to make himself at home.

Tang Xianling slept very soundly, almost like a pig. When he woke up, the room was pitch black. He rolled over, reached out to feel his surroundings, and realized something was off. He muttered to himself, “Didn’t I fall asleep in the main hall? How did I end up in this room?”

But he knew that Tieniu must have carried him back to his room; the strange thing was that Tieniu wasn’t there.

He got up, put on his outer robe, and felt his way out of bed in the dark, calling out for Tieniu.

Before long, footsteps sounded outside the door, and Tieniu arrived holding a candlestick. As one of them went out and the other came in, their paths crossed. Tieniu set down the candlestick and said, “Get dressed first; it’s freezing out there.”

“Got it,” Tang Xianling said as he pulled his robe closed and tied the sash. “It’s completely dark out—why were you still out there? Did you get up to use the bathroom?”

Tieniu: “No, Second Sister and the kids are here.”

Tang Xianling paused as she tied the ribbon and looked over. “What’s going on? Is it just Second Sister and the kids?”

“Cui Bo’an has a mistress on the side, and she gave birth to a son—it happened around New Year’s—”

Before he could finish, Tang Xianling cursed, “That son of a bitch.”

He’d said that this New Year, Second Sister had come with the kids, claiming there were problems with the fields back in the countryside. Then, once spring arrived—unlike in previous years when they’d dragged their feet until May to come pick up Second Sister and the kids—they’d shown up as early as early March. He’d even complained to Mother that Cui Bo’an seemed like he’d won eight million.

What a son of a bitch.

“The coachman has settled in. Second Sister just finished eating with the kids. The kids got sleepy, so she carried them to Mother’s room to sleep. Second Sister couldn’t sleep, so she’s chatting with Mother. I thought I’d come back first to see how you’re doing,” Tieniu said.

With him, a grown man, still there, Second Sister found it hard to bring up certain things with Mother.

Tang Xianling caught on. “You go back to your room and get some sleep first. I’ll go listen to the whole story,” he said, his voice brimming with rage, as if he couldn’t wait to roll up his sleeves and go to Cuilin Town to start a fight.

Tieniu couldn’t possibly sleep, but he didn’t feel comfortable going into the main hall either, so he said, “Take the candlestick over there. I’ll wait for you in my room.”

“Got it. You get some sleep early—you’ve got work to do tomorrow. Don’t wait up for me; I just had a good night’s sleep, and I’m not tired now,” Tang Xianling said, picking up the candlestick and heading to the parlor next door.

The candle was lit in the main hall, its flame flickering brightly.

Tang Zhen sat with her mother on the daybed; the two leaned against each other. Jiang Yun was speaking in a low voice, and Tang Zhen wiped away tears from time to time. The atmosphere was very oppressive.

When Tang Xianling entered and heard his mother say, “It’s all my fault—I’ve let you three sisters down,” he couldn’t help but interject: 

“Mother, let’s not dwell on the past. We must look to the future.”

“Wu-ger.” Tang Zhen looked up. For some reason, the moment Wu-ger appeared, she felt a sense of reassurance, as if she’d found a solid foundation within herself.

Jiang Yun had been wallowing in self-pity, lost in the past. It had been a long time since she’d spoken of or even thought about those old matters, because Wu-ger didn’t like hearing about these repeated tales of suffering. She’d mentioned them to Xiangping before, but only briefly.

Later, Qiaolian told her about her family’s eldest and second sons. After hearing these stories often enough, Jiang Yun came to understand why Wu-ger didn’t like it when she brought up the past. Talking about these things—repeating them over and over—only made her feel more bitter and distressed, made others feel uncomfortable too, and didn’t help her current situation in the slightest.

She suddenly snapped out of her reverie, turned her head, and saw that Erniang had indeed been crying all along—even though she hadn’t cried at all during dinner.

Tang Xianling pulled up a chair and sat down beside the daybed. He called out to Second Sister and said straight to the point, “Tieniu gave me the gist of it.”

“He really is a good-for-nothing. All these years, I’ve worked tirelessly, without complaint, to honor my in-laws, care for the children, and keep the inner quarters in order, while he’s been out doing business…” Tang Zhen’s string of complaints and grievances was laced with sobs.

Tang Xianling listened for a while—his second sister needed to vent—but as he listened, his mind kept wandering. Every so often, he’d respond with “Mm-hmm” because the things she kept repeating were all trivial, day-to-day matters.

Jiang Yun could tell at a glance that Wu-ger didn’t want to hear any of this, yet he hadn’t spoken up to interrupt—a sign that he was tolerant of Erniang and very patient.

After quite a while, Tang Zhen finished recounting her past hardships in managing the household, then continued: “…‘When he took us back, I thought he’d come to his senses—that he realized he had a family here and cared about the children. But to my surprise, a mother and son had moved into the house. My mother-in-law and father-in-law said they were cousins, yet they were incredibly warm and attentive toward that pair, treating them exceptionally well. Day in and day out, they prioritized that mother and son for the chicken, duck, and meat, and they even planned a hundred-day celebration for the boy—spending money like water to entertain the relatives.’”

“My heart skipped a beat at that moment, but since Bo’an didn’t say anything—he was even keeping it from me—I didn’t dare ask. I just pitched in to help. Later, when I asked Bo’an about it, he said they were just cousins from the countryside and told me not to worry or overthink it.”

“Before the 100-day celebration, that woman said the child wasn’t sleeping soundly at night and kept startling awake. She was afraid the child had been taken away by little ghosts. My mother-in-law was more worried than anyone else and wanted to go to the temple to burn incense and get a protective amulet.”

“That woman said there was no need for any amulets—she’d heard that silver could ward off evil spirits, and that it would be wonderful if we could get a longevity lock made of silver.”

“Cui Bo’an, I truly hate him. He used a mix of flattery and trickery to get the three sisters—including my eldest sister—to hand over their longevity locks. He had them melted down to make a new longevity lock for that boy, along with a pair of small bracelets.”

Tang Xianling hadn’t been furious until he heard that part. Although he was angry—after all, this was classic scumbag behavior—when he heard that the three sisters’ longevity locks had been taken out and melted down, he simply couldn’t hold back any longer. He fixed his burning gaze on his second sister.

Tang Zhen had been lost in her own rambling, but when her younger brother looked at her like that, the confusion in her mind cleared somewhat—and she felt a twinge of fear.

“He’s deceiving a child. You’re an adult—are you just going to let him fool you? Did he say some sweet nothings to you too? Second Sister, all four children are still young. Since their father, grandmother, and grandfather don’t cherish or value them, they’re all counting on you.”

“I won’t even mention how you used to be so weak-willed—making up that fantasy that Cui Bo’an loved you and that you’d one day run the Cui household and muddle through life. But these past few years, you’ve brought the children back year after year. You know deep down how Mother and I have treated you. You should know that this family is your strength. How can you let Cui Bo’an bully the children?”

Tang Xianling’s tone grew a bit harsher.

Tang Zhen stood there in a daze for a long moment, covering her eyes with her hands. Tears seeped through her palms as she choked out, her voice filled with anguish: “I hate it. I know—actually, I know. I hate myself for being so weak and helpless. Deep down, I know it’s my fault toward the children. Time and time again, I kept thinking that Cui Bo’an might still have a shred of affection for us, so I didn’t want to ask outright. I didn’t even dare to confront that cousin about who the boy really is…”

Seeing his second sister like this, Tang Xianling immediately realized he’d been too harsh. He patted her on the shoulder, frowned, and said, “It’s not your fault. It’s all that scoundrel Cui Bo’an’s fault.”

“But Second Sister.”

He held her shoulders, wiped away her tears, and said earnestly, “Don’t wallow in this pain or get caught up in this endless entanglement. You keep wondering why Cui Bo’an abandoned you, why he had someone else behind your back—but dwelling on these things is pointless.”

“He abandoned you and the child—he just wanted a boy—”

“I could bear him a son too,” Tang Zhen blurted out.

Tang Xianling:…

He looked at his second older sister with a piercing gaze tinged with disappointment.

Tang Zhen shuddered. She felt as though Wu-ger was truly disappointed in her, truly no longer willing to look out for her. Compared to the Cui family—the humiliation, betrayal, and torment they had inflicted upon her—Wu-ger’s disappointment brought her back to her senses and made her think clearly.

“In that case, let’s set the Lunar New Year as the deadline. If Cui Bo’an comes to take you away before then, I won’t interfere with your future life or that of the children. You’re free to love Cui Bo’an however you wish, and you can make whatever sacrifices you feel necessary.” Tang Xianling’s voice was very calm. “Even if the three of you—my sisters—and Si-ger end up living in dire straits, I will absolutely not step in to help.”

Upon hearing this, Jiang Yun knew that Wu-ger’s words were laced with anger—he was clearly in the heat of the moment.

If the children were truly suffering, how could Wu-ger possibly stand by and do nothing?—Though it was true he wouldn’t help Erniang; she could tell from his earlier words that he was already angry.

The rest was just a threat aimed at Erniang.

“If Cui Bo’an still hasn’t come by the time the New Year is over, you’ll do as I say and get a divorce—” Tang Xianling paused, then continued, “If you don’t want a divorce and still want to reconcile with Cui Bo’an and continue living together, that’s up to you. But as I said before, I won’t get involved.”

After Tang Xianling finished speaking, he looked at Second Sister, whose face was haggard and dejected. She moved her lips as if to say something, but Tang Xianling wasn’t listening—because he knew she was just going to start rambling on about those trivial matters again.

Right now, his second older sister hadn’t gotten over it yet; she hadn’t calmed down. It was a major setback in her life.

But he didn’t want to listen to any of it.

“Mother, you and my second sister should go to bed early. I’m going to bed, too.” Tang Xianling walked out the door, holding the nearly burned-out candle.

In the bedroom next door, Tieniu hadn’t gone to sleep yet. Hearing the noise, he opened the door first. Seeing his husband looking exhausted and frustrated, he took the candlestick from him, held it herself, and closed the door with one hand.

Neither of them said a word.

Tang Xianling took off his clothes and got into bed. The blankets felt chilly, so he called out, “Why aren’t you asleep yet?” There was a hint of irritation in his tone, but to Tieniu, it sounded like he was just being playful, worried that her husband hadn’t gone to bed earlier.

“I was waiting for you,” Tieniu said as he took off his clothes and slipped under the covers. “Let me warm you up for a bit.”

Tang Xianling reflected on how she’d almost taken her frustration out on Tieniu. Now she rolled over into his arms and murmured softly, “Hold me tight.”

“Okay.” Tieniu held him close in his arms.

Tang Xianling felt a little warmer and wasn’t as angry anymore. He said, “Actually, my second older sister has already been very brave. She sees clearly in her heart how the Cui family—and Cui Bo’an in particular—treats her. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have made such a desperate move to bring the children here. All by herself, she negotiated prices with the coachman and arranged for food and drink along the way—not a single one of the four children was left behind. She’s done all this, and deep down she understands it all perfectly well; it’s just that emotionally, she still can’t quite accept it and is trying to avoid facing it.”

As he spoke, his husband’s eyebrows knitted together.

Tieniu gently stroked his husband’s brow and said, “You see things clearly. Sometimes, even when our minds understand the situation, our bodies—still wounded—haven’t caught up yet.”

“That’s why I said that if Cui Bo’an doesn’t come to take her by the New Year, they’ll get a divorce.” Tang Xianling understood perfectly.

Tieniu gave a soft “Mm-hmm.”

Tang Xianling lifted his head and gently nuzzled Tieniu’s chin—it felt a bit fuzzy. Tieniu shifted slightly and looked down: “What?”

“Why didn’t you ask, ‘What if Cui Bo’an comes to pick her up?’”

Tieniu replied confidently, “If he does show up, we’ll just shut the door and get down to business.”

Tang Xianling burst out laughing and couldn’t stop; how had he not thought of that?

“But I don’t think he’ll come,” Tieniu said.

Tang Xianling still had a smile on his face; he gave a soft “Hmm,” though his smile faded slightly. “He’s got a wife and a son already—why would he care about my sister? If my sister runs off with the kid, it’ll free up a spot for someone else. That ‘cousin’ of his has been waiting to latch onto Cui Bo’an and become his legitimate wife.”

After all, in those days, ordinary people weren’t allowed to take concubines.

As for the landlords and local gentry of today, while they might claim to have concubines, these relationships aren’t officially registered with the authorities—they aren’t conducted through proper channels, but are simply referred to as such behind closed doors within their own households.

Cuilin is a small town, and the Cui family, owners of the grain shop, used to be known for their pride and good reputation. If they were to take in a concubine now, who knows what kind of rumors would spread about them.

“I suspect that once my second sister is gone and enough time has passed, they’ll want to give that boy a legitimate status—and behind the scenes, they’ll start slandering my second sister…” Tang Xianling’s expression grew sharp as he spoke, “We’ll settle the score then. We can’t just sacrifice someone for the sake of a good reputation and get entangled with the Cui family forever.”

Even by today’s standards, some people are still rather old-fashioned and think there’s nothing wrong with what the Cui family is doing. After all, Tang Zhen couldn’t bear a son, and she’d been back at her parents’ home with the child for so long, neglecting her household duties—she deserved to be divorced.

But they can’t let themselves get bogged down in this quagmire just to win the praise and good reputation of these people.

“We live our own lives—not for the sake of outsiders.”

Tieniu hummed in response and gently patted his husband to calm him down. As he patted him, he noticed he wasn’t moving; looking down, he saw that his husband had fallen fast asleep again.

In the days that followed, Tang Xianling was incredibly busy and had no time to worry about Second Sister’s marital situation—nor could he. Second Sister had returned with the children, and her in-laws were giving her the cold shoulder; since they weren’t visiting, it was clear the relationship had cooled off, so he decided to just focus on his own life for now.

The villagers of Xu Village had finished harvesting their chili peppers, dried them, and ground them into chili powder. Tieniu and Uncle Zhang made a full four trips to haul it all away. With the fresh chili peppers gone, the restaurant no longer served stir-fried pork with chili, and the menu reverted to its previous offerings. Tang Xianling juggled both tasks, cooking dishes while waiting for the tallow to arrive so he could prepare the base sauce.

While waiting for the delivery from Lord Pus, he first built a large stove in his own courtyard.

Tang Xianling mused, “We really are just a small family workshop. Someday, when our business grows, we’ll set up a factory—right here in Xu Village.”

Tieniu said, “We’ll have to wait a bit longer for that—at least until next year.”

Lately, he’s been juggling cooking with sourcing spices—which are used up very quickly. Some restaurants in the West Market have caught wind of this; while the proprietors of these large establishments publicly claim not to care about “such a tiny little restaurant,” behind the scenes, they’re keeping a very close eye on the goings-on at Brother Tang’s Restaurant.

“You bought this much spice?”

“How much? Hundreds of jin?”

“That much spice must have cost a fortune. Even though spices can be stored, if you buy this much and let it sit for too long, the flavor will fade.”

“The ingredients at his restaurant are nothing special—he’s just banking on being clever and novel.”

“You’re right. They treat that chili like a treasure.” The sarcasm in those words was palpable.

That chili really is a treasure—not just in Fengyuan City, but in the entire Xidu Province; only Brother Tang Wu’s place has it. It was brought back by an imperial fleet that had been away for six years. For a tiny little restaurant to have gotten its hands on something from so far away…

“I think his place is bound to come up with something new—something no one else has.”

“…That goes without saying.”

“Spices, spices…” A shopkeeper pondered for a while, then finally said, “Could it be the same seasoning as that barbecue mix? They used to sell it here.”

“Anyway, they stopped selling chili peppers a long time ago. Selling them for just over a month wasn’t too bad.”

This was a lingering trace of jealousy from the summer, when long lines had snaked out the door of Brother Tang Wu’s restaurant because of the chili peppers.

At the end of October, Lord Pus’s merchant caravan entered Fengyuan City in a grand procession. Among them, six horse-drawn carriages passed through the main street and headed straight for Baxing District. Tang Xianling had been waiting for this moment with bated breath, and now it had finally arrived. Next came unloading the goods. Since there was so much cargo, the foreign merchants handled the delivery themselves. Neighbors in the lane gathered out of curiosity to watch, and some asked, “What is this?”

Tang Xianling didn’t beat around the bush and replied, “It’s all beef tallow.”

“Beef tallow?”

“What are you going to do with all of this?”

The neighbors, driven by curiosity, asked aloud, but this time Mr. Tang didn’t go into detail. He simply said they’d find out in a few days—his shop was about to introduce a new item.

The moment diners heard the words “new arrival,” their eyes lit up and they perked up. No matter what it was, they eagerly waited, grabbed their silver, and made their way to the restaurant. After buying a pot bun, they ate while asking Cui Dabao, “What good stuff are they bringing in next door?”

Cui Dabao: …

Fortunately, the boss had said he could talk about the hot pot base.

Cui Dabao: “Hot pot broth.” Before anyone could ask, he went straight to the point: “In a couple of days, after the weekend. It’s been cold lately—time to eat hot pot to build up your strength. We used to serve mutton soup with pickled cabbage, but this year we’ve added a new spicy beef tallow hot pot. You can buy this broth to take home, add some bone broth, and simmer it—it’ll taste just like it does in the restaurant.”

“!!!”

“I see.”

“So it’s kind of like last year’s sesame sauce dip? You buy it, mix it up at home, and when you dip your food in it, it tastes even better than what you get at restaurants.”

“That’s definitely a good idea.”

Someone: “Wait, wait—didn’t you hear what Cui Dabao said? It’s still spicy. But aren’t chili peppers out of season by now?”

“I remember chili peppers can be sun-dried and ground into powder. Boss Tang mentioned that when we had barbecue last summer.”

“Right, right, right—I remember now.”

At that moment, everyone still thought the “base” Cui Dabao was talking about was just the dipping sauce—the kind Tang’s Restaurant had served before: sesame paste, sesame oil, and a mix of dried spices like evodia and cumin.

Until one day—

The large cast-iron pot that Owner Tang had custom-made was set over the big stove. The pot was greased with beef tallow; in no time, the solid white chunks of tallow melted into glistening oil. Then came the stir-frying of the ingredients. There was a specific method for handling the chili peppers: some varieties needed to be soaked in water first to bring out their aroma, while others had to be added later—every step had its own rules.

……

“What’s that pungent smell hitting my nose?”

“Is someone’s house on fire?”

“Cough, cough, cough, cough.”

“Wait, no—it smells so good.”

Some people, unable to handle the spice, covered their noses in distress and sneezed repeatedly, while others were drawn in by the aroma. Sniffing the scent in the air, they followed it all the way, getting closer and closer……

Good grief, people from the second alley had already made their way to the entrance of the Tang family’s courtyard.

“The aroma is definitely coming from their house.”

“It’s getting stronger and more fragrant—what on earth are they cooking?”

More and more people gathered at the entrance to the Tang family’s courtyard. Some, emboldened by their status as neighbors and the bonds of friendship, knocked on the door to ask what was going on. Jiang Yun opened the door with a smile, but quickly closed it again, saying, “My Wu-ger is working on a new dish—it’s a secret family recipe.”

That single sentence put an end to everyone’s curiosity.

Tang Zhen had been helping out around the house these past few days, and the family kept her in the loop about everything they were doing—including the current task of stir-frying ingredients. Wu-ger didn’t even spare her or her four children, simply saying, “It’s a bit pungent. If the smell bothers you, go inside for a while.”

But at the Cui household, she wasn’t allowed to touch the ledgers; she didn’t even know how much they’d sold their harvest for, and she wasn’t permitted to step into the shop area.

Wu-ger didn’t treat her like an outsider, but the man she’d shared a bed with for over a decade kept her at a distance—a deep, unbridgeable distance.

Tang Zhen felt sad again, but no one in the courtyard paid her any mind or offered any comfort.

Tang Xianling handed the task over to Xiao Mi. He’d already prepared all the ingredients; standing to the side, he wiped the sweat from his brow and said, “Watch the heat—don’t let it burn. If the chili burns, it’ll turn bitter. And for the final step, add a splash of white wine or vinegar to bring out the aroma…”

In the past, whenever the Tang family cooked something, the aroma would waft out, and the neighbors on both sides would comment on how good it smelled. But today was truly different. The scent was so strong that diners on the main street—even with the restaurant up ahead closed—stopped in their tracks upon catching the scent, then made a detour to the Tang family’s back door.

Jiang Yun：……

“I’ve said this countless times already,” she said. “It’s Wu-ger’s new product—a spicy hot pot base. It’s for people who love spicy food to use for their hot pot. That’s right, it’ll be on the shelves as early as Monday.”

“How much is it?” asked a diner.

Jiang Yun hesitated, a bit reluctant to mention the price—she thought it was way too expensive.

The diner could tell from the landlady’s expression that it wouldn’t be cheap, so he probed, “Is it one tael or two taels? These chili peppers are imported from overseas, so they’re definitely a bit pricier. It smells so fragrant—I bet there’s something else in there too.” Good grief—even as he was saying it was expensive, he was already making excuses for Tang Wuge’s restaurant.

“Seven hundred wen a piece,” Jiang Yun said, only revealing the price because she recognized him as a regular.

The neighbors gathered around gasped in shock: ???

How much?!

Seven hundred wen!!!

What’s the difference between that and a meal costing one tael of silver? If it’s that expensive, are those chili peppers made of gold or silver?

The regular customer, upon hearing this, breathed a sigh of relief. Sniffing the aroma in the air, he grinned happily: “That’s okay, that’s okay—it’s not that expensive after all. I’ll come early on Monday, then.”

The neighbors in the neighborhood stared at this customer in disbelief. “Isn’t that still cheap?!” 

“And you’re going to come early? At seven hundred wen a piece—at that price, do you really think it’ll sell out? You don’t need to come that early.”

Jiang Yun wiped the sweat from her brow and cheerfully saw the customer off.

She thought it was expensive, too.