They started serving boxed meals around 5:00 p.m. After selling for less than two hours, they wrapped up before 7:00 p.m.

Tang Xianling told his mother not to clean up just yet; he saved some food for his family. The three of them sat in the shop to eat first, and only cleaned up after they were done. During that time, people heard the commotion and came to buy dinner, but by the time they arrived, everything was sold out.

Seeing the dishes the Tang family was eating, they immediately swallowed hard.

It smelled so good.

“Will you be making spare ribs again tomorrow, Mr. Tang?”

“Will you still be making these meatball lion’s heads?”

Some customers who hadn’t managed to buy any asked, while others who had bought just one portion—not enough to take home—also inquired.

Tang Xianling said, “The menu stays the same for a week—we cook five days and rest two. I’ll make adjustments for the next round.”

“That’s great, then I’ll come early tomorrow.”

“Me too.” 

“I’ll bring a lunchbox then, so I won’t need dinner.”

After seeing the customers off, Huangfu Tieniu simply shut the shop door and threw open the door leading to the backyard, letting in a little light so Xianling could eat in peace without being disturbed.

None of the three had anything to say; they were too tired. After finishing their meal, they divided up the cleanup.

“Good thing we packed plenty to take home.” Tang Xianling rolled up his sleeves, stacked the bowls, and carried them on a tray to the kitchen.

To Jiang Yun, the pile of bowls didn’t seem large. “Back when your father was alive, there were endless bowls to wash every day. It was bearable in summer, but in winter the water was bone-chillingly cold, and the mutton soup would get cold and greasy.”

“Didn’t you use hot water to wash them?” Tang Xianling chatted casually with his mother.

Jiang Yun: “Boiling hot water? Your father thought it wasted too much charcoal. He’d rub the bowls with wood ash first, then rinse them with cold water, and they’d be clean.”

“Put the bowls, chopsticks, and plates over there. I’ll wash them. You’ve been busy all day today.”

Back then, there was no dish soap. To remove grease, people used either wood ash, soap, or hot water—but since hot water wasted charcoal, they naturally didn’t want to use it. Tang Xianling scooped water into a large basin and said to his mother, “We’ve both been busy all day. Let me lend a hand—we’ll wash them together, and it’ll go faster.”

A faint smile touched Jiang Yun’s face. In the past, with so many bowls to wash, Old Tang never lifted a finger; she and the children had always handled the dishes at home. Come winter, when the water turned cold, her fingers would freeze until they were covered in sores, looking like radish stalks.

All four of the children she’d raised had known the hardships of running a business—washing dishes, doing laundry, an endless pile of things to clean…

Huangfu Tieniu returned carrying two buckets of water, poured them into the large vat, and went back to fetch more water.

Tang Xianling and his mother used the light in the courtyard to wash the pots and dishes and tidy up, pouring the water into the gutter and using the clear rinse water from the second wash to water the vegetables.

They finished cleaning the shop and kitchen before dark.

Tang Xianling felt that today’s supply of boxed meals was a bit on the low side, but he couldn’t make too many. If he increased the quantity, he could add more boxed meals next week once the pork floss bread was discontinued.

Otherwise, working at this intense pace—he earned money to enjoy life, not to drive himself into the ground!

It was dark.

The family had washed up.

Jiang Yun was about to go to bed early when Tang Xianling called out to his mother, “We haven’t counted the money and balanced the books yet today!”

“Just you and Tieniu do it.” Jiang Yun had never counted money or balanced the books before; when Old Tang was around, he wouldn’t let her meddle in financial matters. She didn’t know how much they earned or spent each day.

Tang Xianling: “Mother, come on, let’s count it together. We’ll split the pocket money!”

Seeing him with that gleam in his eye—the look of a little money-lover—not only did Huangfu Tieniu’s eyes sparkle with amusement, but he also found his husband utterly adorable. Upon hearing this, Jiang Yun’s heart melted, so she decided to join her Wu-ger in counting the money.

So they lit a “Little Luxury” candle at home.

Today’s earnings—copper coins clinking and clanking as they were tossed into the wooden box. Once breakfast was sold out, the money went straight into the large jar kept in the back kitchen; otherwise, a wooden box brimming with coins was bound to attract envious eyes.

This was a tip from Jiang Yun.

Back when Old Tang ran the business, he would “empty out” the wooden cash box from time to time, transferring the coins to a money bag in the house, leaving the box nearly empty with just a few coins inside. This way, it wouldn’t attract petty thieves, and customers wouldn’t know how much the family was making.

Knowing that your business is profitable is one thing, but seeing a chest brimming with money is quite another—it makes a much stronger impression.

Although Tang Xianling disliked Old Tang, he humbly accepted and learned from the pitfalls his predecessor had navigated and the experience he had accumulated. As a result, he has now adopted this habit as well.

There was money in the pot in the kitchen and in the wooden box as well; now it was all dumped onto the table.

Clink, clink, clink—the coins piled up into a small mountain. As the pile grew, it reached the edge of the table, and some copper coins rolled off onto the floor. Tieniu went to pick them up and, while he was at it, brought another table over to join it to the first one, significantly expanding the tabletop.

Tang Xianling gazed at the “mountain of coins,” “……”

“It seems balancing the books is quite a laborious task; it’ll take some time.”

Jiang Yun couldn’t help but laugh. Who would find it hard work when they’ve earned this much? They’d be too happy to even think about it.

They began counting the money.

“I’ll go get some twine so we can string them up by strings.” Jiang Yun went to fetch the twine.

One string of copper coins contained a thousand wen. When exchanged for silver, it was generally a little over one tael, though the official exchange rate was unstable—at times, eight hundred wen could buy a tael of silver.

Copper coins were the primary currency for ordinary people’s daily expenses.

Everyone started stringing the coins. Strings of coins were laid out on the table. To make accounting easier, they first strung together 1,000 wen per string, and soon rows of coins were lined up.

Tang Xianling opened the ledger. “This morning, we prepared 300 dried plum and pork buns. Don’t count the three extra ones. They’ve gone into our inventory—they’re mostly made from scraps, so the quality isn’t consistent. They’re packed with filling and are for our own consumption.”

At five wen each, that’s 1,500 wen.

“One hundred red bean pot sticker buns, four wen each—that’s 400 wen.”

Tang Xianling continued, “Two hundred pork floss breads at five wen each—that’s one guan.”

“That comes to two guan and nine hundred wen.”

“Egg-stuffed pancakes are six wen each. I didn’t count them this morning—I got so busy I lost track—but I have a rough estimate from kneading the dough. There must be about fifty of them, which is three hundred wen.”

So, for the morning breakfast, before deducting costs, the total comes to three taels and two hundred wen.

Moving on to the evening meal. For the evening meal, we calculate the average cost: some eat in the shop, some take it home, and some skip the rice. We’ll calculate it at twenty wen per serving. We sold about seventy portions, which comes to one thousand four hundred wen

“Three taels and two hundred wen plus one tael and four hundred wen equals four taels and six hundred wen,” Tang Xianling estimated roughly.

Jiang Yun listened, half-understanding, half-confused. She pointed to the scattered copper coins on the table and compared the total to the figure she’d discussed with Wu-ger earlier—it was ninety-six wen more.

It’s close enough.

“Four taels six hundred wen a day, multiplied by five days, that’s twenty-three taels. My total procurement costs for the week come to nine taels five hundred wen.”

“A net profit of thirteen taels five hundred wen for the week—that’s about right.”

Jiang Yun understood. After deducting costs, there were still thirteen taels five hundred wen left—wasn’t that enough?

“Mother, there’s also the wages and supplies for the three of us. We can’t work for free—I need to give us some spending money! We’ll settle accounts every five days, and everyone can buy whatever they like with their share. Don’t worry, I’ll save the bulk of the money to pay the shop tax and head tax at the end of the year.” Tang Xianling ran the numbers in his head, calculating that if he saved ten taels a week,

Forty taels a month, four hundred and eighty taels a year.

!!!!

That’s a lot.

Of course, it’s not that simple. There are pots, pans, and utensils to replace when they break; social obligations; food and drink; entertainment; clothes; and medical expenses if anyone gets sick—all of these cost money.

And it’s not like business runs smoothly every single month—sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad, and there’s the New Year shutdown. Factoring all that in, we’d still manage to save at least two or three hundred taels a year.

That’s incredible.

He laid it all out.

Jiang Yun was stunned. “Is… is that really so much?”

“Your father worked his whole life and saved over five hundred taels of silver…”

Father Tang also took the “value-for-money” approach. Lamb meat itself is expensive, and a bowl of mutton soup with noodles—which includes pieces of lamb—costs thirteen wen. After deducting costs like charcoal, firewood, lamb meat, and flour, Tang Xianling estimated he could make a profit of four or five wen per bowl.

Before Tang Xianling could respond, Jiang Yun snapped out of her daze and added, “But when your father was alive, we had so many children to raise. If you, Wu-ger, have kids of your own someday, you’ll need to save up some money for them too.”

“……” Tang Xianling.

Huangfu Tieniu chuckled.

Tang Xianling felt embarrassed; he wondered how he’d elbow Tieniu when they got back!

“Mother, there were many people and children in our household, but you and my sisters worked without pay. Without you, he’d have to spend a fortune hiring help for the shop. Don’t pin all the major expenses on yourself and my sisters. How much silver did we give as dowries when my three older sisters got married? Even if we gave more, it’s what they deserved after working all these years.”

Jiang Yun: “Your eldest sister married young; her dowry consisted of some cloth and an extra two taels of silver.”

“The same goes for your second sister.”

“Your third sister married far away, and I was worried, so I secretly added one tael.”

The Tang family really didn’t spend much on their children. Jiang Yun was also wondering where the money went. If it were for clothes, the eldest sister’s outgrown garments were altered for the second sister to wear. By the time it came to the third sister, the clothes were worn out from washing, so they’d buy her new ones, and the third sister’s old clothes went to the Wu-ger.

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Tang Xianling and Tieniu exchanged flirtatious glances by candlelight while counting the money.

“Did you smile when my mother said I was going to have a baby?”

“No, no, no.”

“I saw you smile!”

“I was smiling because you’re so cute.”

Tang Xianling:……

All right.

The “game” was over, the money were sorted, and it was time to put them away. Tang Xianling yawned, told his mother to go to bed early, then added, “No, I need to wash my hands one more time. You should wash yours too—the coins are filthy.”

“Okay.” Huangfu Tieniu and Xianling carried the money and went to the backyard to fetch water.

The copper coins were greasy, so it was best to wash his hands before hugging Xianling.

Jiang Yun walked toward the back holding a candle, still wondering where Old Tang had spent the money. Then it dawned on her: back when they first set up their stall and bought all the equipment, saving money had been a struggle. It took ten years of hard work just to scrape together enough for a courtyard and a shop, which had drained their savings. They worked another seven or eight years, bought the neighboring property, and emptied their savings again.

Later, when Silang was born, Old Tang was overjoyed and spent seven or eight taels of silver hosting a banquet for the neighbors.

Old Tang also liked to drink a little, and liquor was expensive.

…All the money he’d saved over the years was eventually spent on a man surnamed Hu.

After settling the accounts, Tang Xianling felt a bit more at ease. He washed his hands and face, then rolled back and forth on the bamboo mat in just his undershirt. To get back at someone who’d just laughed at him, he sprawled out on the outer bed.

Huangfu Tieniu walked in to find his husband sleeping in his spot.

“Tieniu, I’m going to warm up the spot where you’re sleeping so you’ll be nice and toasty in a bit.”

How could he be so adorable?

Huangfu Tieniu felt a tingle of excitement and said, “Okay.”

Tang Xianling propped his head up with one hand. “You’re not allowed to say ‘okay.’ You have to say you’re scared.”

“Then I’m scared.” Huangfu Tieniu walked over and began undressing.

Tang Xianling moved further in; the bamboo mat was still cool, and he immediately started chattering excitedly, “Are you really seventeen? Classmate Tieniu, you’re being too half-hearted.”

“I’m really scared,” Huangfu Tieniu said, sitting down by the edge of the bed. As if he’d been “scalded,” he jumped back up, complaining that the bamboo mat was hot and that he was sweltering.

Tang Xianling: … Hahahahahaha.

Tieniu’s acting was so phony.

But he laughed heartily.

Huangfu Tieniu laughed too, then lay back down and fanned himself with a palm-leaf fan. He could tell Xianling was in a good mood. Tang Xianling glanced over, rolled a little closer to Tieniu, and said, “Don’t just fan yourself—let the breeze reach both of us.”

“From now on, whenever our shop has business, or it’s a holiday, we’ll take the day off too!” Tang Xianling said.

Huangfu Tieniu curled his lips. Xianling loved making money, but he wasn’t the type to be obsessed with it. He also enjoyed going out to have fun, eating and drinking, and making life a little better for the whole family, so he agreed right away.

“We’ll all listen to our Boss Tang.”

“Hehe.”

The two didn’t do much else; they had to get up early tomorrow.

Before nine o’clock that night, the Tang family courtyard had fallen silent. The next day, as soon as it was just a little light out, they went about their usual routine: fetching water, boiling red beans, kneading and letting the dough rise…

But when the door opened today, the crowd outside startled Jiang Yun.

There hadn’t been this many people yesterday.

Looking around today, besides the familiar customers, there were several new faces—they didn’t look like residents of Dingyi District or Baxing District…

This was precisely why Tang Xianling made so much money in his business. He priced all his food items two or three wen higher than on Main Street, and his evening meals were even more expensive. On Main Street, whether it was food or other goods, the customer base was primarily residents of the two districts.

In Fengyuan City, each of the two quarters has its own Main Street, which generally meets the daily needs of the residents. Normally, no one would travel far to eat or drink in another quarter; if they did go out, it would be to the East and West Markets—these were major “shopping districts” where one could find everything.

Consequently, prices on the Main Street are kept reasonable. Shop owners lack the confidence to charge higher prices, and their pricing is based on the accumulated experience of their predecessors. If prices were set too high, the local residents wouldn’t accept them, customer traffic would dwindle, and the shop would eventually have to close at a loss.

However, the prices set by Tang Xianling attracted wealthy people from other districts to his food stall.

They didn’t mind taking a carriage or getting up early just to grab a bite to eat.

Old Zhao’s sugar-oil pancakes opened early today. The charcoal fire in the shop hadn’t even been lit yet. Mrs. Zhao stood outside the shop door, glancing toward the Tang family’s stall. Seeing that there were even more people today than yesterday, she turned pale with anger. She pounded her chest, unable to fathom why there were so many people.

“It’s hot out. Their food is baked and fried too—how come their business is so much better?”

“I don’t believe there are this many people at their place every day.”

Sun Honghong was jealous too. Spotting another carriage approaching, she stopped a well-dressed young man and asked, “You look like a stranger here—where are you headed?”

“…Naturally, I’m off to support Brother Tang’s new shop. I heard he opened yesterday. I’ve been waiting a whole month—finally, it’s open.”

“Enough said. I see the crowd getting bigger—let’s hurry up and go.” Another woman called out to her companion; the two walked side by side, their lively conversation faintly audible.

“We’ve spent money on storytellers and theater troupes—today, at last, we can spend it on Brother Tang Wu.”

“I heard it’s really delicious.”

“Even if it’s not good, so be it. We’ll just treat it as supporting Brother Tang Wu.”

Sun Honghong and her mother-in-law listened, utterly baffled: ???

What on earth?

“It doesn’t matter if it’s not good?” Once, at their own sugar-oil pancake shop, because her mother-in-law couldn’t bear to waste them, she’d left them overnight and secretly refried them. A customer tasted the difference, grabbed the half-eaten pancake, and stormed up to demand a refund—and she had to give him a fresh one—

But now that it’s the Tang family’s turn, how can it be “it doesn’t matter if it’s not good”?

What gives?

The three family members looked at each other, utterly baffled. Aunt Zhao: “That’s not right, that’s not right. We’re all in the same business—that fox spirit of a Brother Tang must have slipped some kind of drug into the customers’ food!”

There wasn’t a single soul in front of their shop, yet a long line had already formed at the Tang family’s entrance.

“Wu-ger, Wu-ger, come out and take a look—there are so many customers outside today.” Jiang Yun called out to Wu-ger to come see; she was starting to get a little scared.

Tang Xianling: It’s normal for there to be a crowd.

But when he looked at the line outside. Tang Xianling: …This isn’t normal!

The usual regulars were squeezed into the middle of the line. Old Man Cui, clutching his food basket, was grimacing in discomfort. The line now included several well-dressed men and women, all brimming with enthusiasm; the moment they spotted him, their eyes lit up.

Tang Xianling: This really isn’t normal!

“You must be the Wu-ger, right?” 

“The Tang Wu-ger from the play?” 

“Oh my, you’re so handsome.”

“Is that young man next to you the Wu-ger’s new husband?”

“They’re a perfect match, truly a perfect match.”

Tang Xianling: …Got it. Things are back to normal.

Such is the power of publicity, though he hadn’t intended to drive traffic to his shop—at first, he’d merely wanted everyone to vent their anger at that bastard Hu Kang.

“Thank you all for your support and for coming out to support us.” 

Facing the enthusiastic customers, Tang Xianling sincerely thanked them. Getting up so early and traveling so far just to have breakfast at his place was indeed a hassle. He bowed his hands in gratitude and said, “This morning, we’ll start with pickled preserved vegetables and pork buns and red bean paste buns. In between, we’ll sell egg-stuffed pancakes. Once the buns are sold out, we’ll bake the pork floss bread.”

“Summer is here, and it’s hot. Once this week’s supply of pork floss bread is sold out, we’ll close for two days, and we won’t be selling it next week.”

The new customers were completely baffled. What did he mean by “this week,” “closing,” and “next week”?

The regulars were initially taken aback, but they still took the time to explain to the newcomers: “Mr. Tang’s shop operates five days a week and takes two days off. Today is the second day of the five-day cycle; he’ll sell for three more days, then take two days off. Once those two days are up, he won’t be selling pork floss bread anymore.”

“!!!!”

“Is Mr. Tang really not selling them anymore?”

“Does that mean we won’t be able to get them anymore?” 

Tang Xianling waved his hand to quiet everyone down and said, “My shop has added evening meals, so preparing the morning stock is too rushed and hectic—I just can’t keep up. Once autumn and winter arrive and the weather turns cold, I’ll start selling the pork floss bread again. From now on, the fresh food items in the shop will rotate on a regular basis.”

“Does that mean the pot-sticker buns will change, too?”

“Will there be other new items?” Upon hearing there would be new varieties, Cui Dabao seemed to find the idea more acceptable. Eating the same thing all the time does get boring. Although Master Tang is a skilled cook and we’ve been craving his food for so long, it would be nice to try some of his new creations.

There are pros and cons to everything. Customers from other neighborhoods chimed in: “There’s an evening meal too?” 

“No one told me about that.” 

“An evening meal is great—we won’t have to get up this early anymore.”

“Yeah, yeah. If I had to get up this early every day, I wouldn’t be able to do it either.”

They’d come together as a group just to support Brother Tang, but they’d only stick with it for a few days. There was no way they’d get up this early every day—it was too exhausting, and no amount of good food could make up for it.

In any case, Tang Xianling got to work. One by one, the pot-sticker cakes were placed into the preheated oven. Tang Xianling began making egg-stuffed pancakes. The customers who came to support him were all generous—they ordered everything. But then again, it made sense: people who would travel this far just to buy breakfast for a play were mostly well-off, leisurely, and kind-hearted men and women. Once they had their egg-stuffed pancakes and two kinds of pot-sticker bunss in hand.

The ladies and gentlemen strolled along, in no hurry to return. Once they reached the main street here, they found a teahouse to sit down and chat. They didn’t eat right away; they waited until they found a place to sit before starting their meal.

“It’s quite lively around here.” 

“Are there more shops than back where we live?” 

“Probably more residents.”

From their conversation, it was clear that the neighborhood where these women and men lived consisted of large courtyards with few residents; presumably, they had servants and laborers to handle the household chores.

“I’ll try mine first. I’ve been carrying it all the way here, and the aroma has made me hungry,” said one outspoken woman.

Everyone else laughed.

“Actually, I’m hungry too.”

“Let’s give it a try.”

The egg-stuffed pancakes were wrapped in oil paper; by now, they weren’t too hot to handle, though they were a bit greasy. One woman, who didn’t care for greasy food in the summer, held them tentatively and took a tiny bite, thinking she might take the rest home.

But at that first bite, her eyes lit up, and she began to chew slowly. The wrapper was crispy, with the aroma of eggs; it was oily but not greasy, thanks to the Chinese cabbage leaves inside, along with a hint of smoked meat. The flavors blended together wonderfully.

“Not bad, it’s delicious,” the woman eating the egg-stuffed pancake nodded. “But I think this is a bit too heavy for summer; it’s better to avoid greasy foods.”

Though she said this, she had unconsciously eaten half of it and could eat no more.

Let’s try the pot-sticker buns next.

Someone who had already eaten the pot-sticker buns wiped their mouth with a handkerchief and said, “I didn’t use to eat much pork, but trying this today, the flavor is truly different.”

“It really is different. The pickles inside have a rich flavor, unlike ordinary pickles.”

“Suniang, you’re eating the red bean ones. I love the red bean paste inside. I wonder how Master Tang cooked the paste—it’s so smooth. You know I love sweets, but Master Tang’s red bean paste isn’t very sweet.”

“So, have you finished?”

“That’s the strange part—the paste isn’t overly sweet or cloying, yet it’s delicious. Even after eating it, my throat doesn’t feel sticky from the sugar. If I weren’t already full, I’d buy another one.”

“Go ahead and buy one. Take it home.”

“That’s true.”

The men and women ate and drank, discussing Brother Tang’s breakfast. They’d heard people from Baxing District say it was delicious, and now they truly believed it. One of them remarked, “It’s good that his business is thriving. I used to think Brother Tang was just a shuang’er—his father passed away, and it can’t be easy for him to carry a shoulder pole and run a business.”

“He may be young, but if he didn’t have some backbone, how could he have taken the matter to court?”

“I love that kind of straightforward, bold temperament—I can’t stand cowards.”

“Do you think the pork floss bread is ready yet?”

“They won’t be selling it later, so let’s buy plenty today.”

Having tasted Brother Tang’s breakfast, everyone had no doubts about the pork floss bread, so they bought plenty to take home for lunch.“I’d like to buy some more pot-sticker buns.”

“Let’s go, then.

But then—

“Are the pot-sticker buns sold out?”

“What about the pork floss bread?”

Seeing how anxious these men and women looked, Tang Xianling hurriedly explained, “We just sold out of one batch, and the second one will be ready soon. But there’s a line up front, so if you want some, you’ll have to wait for the third batch.”

“We didn’t pre-order, so we’ll just have to wait here. Or would you all prefer to wait inside the shop? It’s awfully hot out here.”

Upon hearing this, the women and men immediately broke into smiles and agreed. Just as they were talking, the second batch of bread came out, carrying a unique aroma. The group watched the freshly baked “bread” emerge from the oven—golden and gleaming, looking quite unfamiliar.

Although they were already full, the scent made them feel a bit hungry. One of them said, “We’ll take the whole third batch of bread.”

“Right.”

Tang Xianling:!

“Everyone, my shop’s pork floss bread is limited; each person can only buy three—” He counted the number of people; it was exactly one batch. He immediately smiled and said, “That’s exactly one batch for all of you.”

These ladies and gentlemen were truly wealthy, kind-hearted, and enthusiastic!

So when Wei Feng, the young master of the Wei family, heard Ding Quan mention the date to come buy bread, Wei Feng hadn’t even gotten out of the carriage yet when he sent his servant to buy some. Before long, the servant ran back, looking troubled, and said, “Young Master, today’s bread is sold out.”

“?” Wei Feng.

Fearing his master wouldn’t believe him, the servant recounted the details in full: “I heard there were even more people at the Tang family shop today—even folks from the outer districts came. Some women and men bought up an entire oven’s worth of bread. No sooner had they left than others were already lining up. The Tang family limits each person to three—they’re enforcing a purchase limit so other customers can try them too. I also heard that after three more days, Mr. Tang won’t be selling the pork floss bread anymore. He says it’s too hot, and he’ll wait until autumn and winter to sell them again…”

He’d planned to buy something else just to avoid coming back empty-handed, but Mr. Tang said they were all sold out.

The servant steeled himself to report this.

Wei Feng: ???

“Couldn’t you just spend a little extra and buy a few from someone else?”

Wei Feng got off the carriage and braved the sweltering heat to buy them himself. He’d already explained it to his grandmother: coming to buy bread today was an act of filial piety, and since he’d made the trip, he couldn’t go back empty-handed.

A five-wen pork floss bread—even at fifty wen, someone would still sell it.

Tang Xianling: …This scene looks familiar. Hasn’t this happened before?

And young master, don’t make it seem like my shop is price-gouging—fifty wen for a single bread is way too expensive!