Lin Dalang slaughtered the duck and asked his uncle through the stove room door if he wanted it plucked. His uncle had just said to use this pestle, but he was afraid his uncle would be scared of the dead duck.

“Do you know how to pluck feathers?” Tang Xianling asked, then quickly added, “Yes, please do!” Whether Lin Dalang knew how to pluck feathers or not, he would learn now. Tang Xianling treated Dalang like a child, but Dalang clearly no longer saw himself that way.

“There’s hot water on the stove. You clean up in the courtyard and pour the dirty water into the drain. Scoop out the duck feathers and put them in the trash can.” Tang Xianling instructed Dalang, then turned to warn, “Sanlang, the hot water is scalding. You’re not allowed to play near it, you hear me?”

Lin Sanlang, munching on a fruit pit, said he understood.

“Uncle, I’ll keep an eye on him,” Lin Dalang said.

Tang Xianling still wasn’t entirely at ease. Dalang was just a teenager himself; between slaughtering and processing the duck, plus having to keep an eye on Sanlang from time to time, he wouldn’t be able to handle it all. After a moment’s thought, he called out to Sanlang, “Uncle’s got a job for you, too.”

Lin Sanlang immediately perked up and asked his uncle excitedly, “What is it?”

“Your older brother is handling the duck, so you handle the garlic—peel the cloves.” Tang Xianling handed the boy an empty bowl and two heads of garlic. Now Lin Sanlang had something to keep him busy.

Tang Xianling watched the two brothers busying themselves on opposite sides of the courtyard’s veranda, then went into the kitchen to continue his work. The courtyard gate was ajar, and before long, Lin Daliang called out first: “Who’s there?”

“I’m back from the market. It’s Grandma.” Jiang Yun hurried back carrying a vegetable basket and praised Daliang: “Dalang’s cleaning the duck. Good job.”

Lin Sanlang then held out his bowl, begging for praise: “Grandma, Grandma, don’t forget about me!” 

“Sanlang peeled the garlic—and he did a thorough job,” Jiang Yun said after taking a look. 

Lin Sanlang: “I used my teeth to gnaw it off.”

Jiang Yun praised him too, saying, “Then Sanlang has sharp teeth.” 

In the kitchen, Tang Xianling: …I’ll wash the garlic in a bit.

Jiang Yun entered the kitchen, pulling vegetables out of the basket to show them to Wu-ger as she said, “I ran all the way here; Xiangping barely had a chance to say a few words to me.”

“Big Sister and the others aren’t back yet. No need to rush, Mom,” Tang Xianling said.

Jiang Yun began washing the pork ribs. Although Wu-ger was in charge of cooking the sweet and sour pork ribs at home, she had learned how to prepare the meat beforehand. She said, “By the time your eldest sister and Tieniu get back, it’ll be just the right time to eat, so your eldest sister won’t have to rush. We’ll eat slowly later, and after we finish, you can chat with your eldest sister for a while.”

“I know, Mom,” Tang Xianling replied as he began slicing the potatoes into thin strips.

For the vegetable dish, he cut the eggplant into chunks with the skin on; he sliced the potatoes into strips; he minced a small bowl of pork belly; he prepared the seasoning bowl for the fish stew; and he also had the ginger slices and seasonings for the ginger duck ready.

Tang Xianling put down his knife and went outside to see how Dalang was doing with the duck. If things weren’t going well, he was ready to take over. To his surprise, Dalang was working very meticulously; the duck had been plucked clean, and the innards had been removed and placed in a large bowl.

“Uncle, you can eat duck offal too. Just roast it a little longer to get rid of the gamey taste, then stir-fry it with pickled vegetables,” said Lin Dalang.

“Back when the family hadn’t split up yet, we’d slaughter a duck whenever we needed meat during the busy farming season. Grandma and Mother would always save the gizzards, livers, and intestines and cook them this way.” 

Tang Xianling smiled and said, “Then let me try a different method. I’ll braise these today—they’ll be perfect for you to take along on your journey this afternoon.”

The duck Tieniu had given him was very plump. It had been starved thin before, but after his mother had raised it for a while, it had become fat and robust again. Actually, it would have been perfect for roast duck, but now there wasn’t enough time, nor did he have a roast duck oven.

Tang Xianling carried the duck back to the kitchen to prepare it a second time. He chopped the duck into pieces. While the ribs were simmering in the large stove, he placed a clay pot on the stove and began making ginger duck.

The first time Tang Xianling tried this dish, he assumed it required a female duck—after all, it’s called “Ginger Mother Duck”—but he later learned that the phrase is actually broken up like this: “Ginger Mother, Duck.” “Ginger Mother” refers to old ginger; young or tender ginger doesn’t carry this connotation.

First, add soybean oil to the clay pot, followed by half the sesame oil. Layer the slices of old ginger on top—be sure not to peel the old ginger; slice it with the skin on. Turn the heat up slightly to bring out the ginger’s flavor.

Once the aroma is released and the slices turn a deep golden brown,

Tang Xianling set the clay pot aside and used tongs to remove two red-hot charcoal pieces. Making ginger duck requires low heat; if the heat is too high, the duck won’t cook through properly

Place the clay pot back on the stove, arrange the chopped duck pieces one by one on top of the ginger slices, and drizzle with the prepared sauce.

Mix maltose, rice wine, sesame oil, a pinch of salt, and a little water to make a bowl of sauce, then pour it into the clay pot until it’s almost level with the duck. Cover the pot and simmer over low heat, flipping the duck every five or six minutes. It should be ready in about forty minutes.

Tang Xianling tossed the red-hot charcoal he’d just taken out into the large stove.

With the two main dishes now simmering, Tang Xianling began frying fish in the back stove; the oil used for frying fish yesterday came in handy…

At the West Market.

Tang Qiao asked Erniang to lead the way, “Where is the shop where your uncle bought you that hairpin?”

Erniang held her mother’s hand. The grievances she’d felt earlier had vanished, leaving only joy—and a touch of trepidation, since it was expensive. Acting mature, she said, “Maybe you shouldn’t buy it for me, Mother. I don’t want it. That hairpin can’t be eaten or drunk, and I don’t like wearing things on my head anyway.”

Hearing this, Lin Hu, who was standing nearby, was about to go along with his daughter’s suggestion—to skip the hairpin and buy her something else instead. A piece of cloth or a string of candied hawthorn would be far better than that hairpin.

But Tang Qiao was quite firm in her words: “We came into town this time just to buy you that hairpin. Mama has the money, so Mama will buy it for you. You just show me the way.”

“Let’s get it over with early, then buy some fruit to take back for your uncle and your maternal grandmother.”

Hearing his wife say this, Lin Hu swallowed the words he’d just been about to say to back down. But his wife was usually so good-natured—why was she being so stubborn and hot-tempered this time? He glanced at her; Qiaoniang’s eyes seemed to be reddening…

In the end, they bought the hairpin—a small one shaped exactly like an apple.

Lin Erniang loved it dearly. She tucked it carefully into her bosom and tugged at her mother’s hand. “Mother, please don’t be angry anymore. I won’t show it off in public anymore.”

“What do you mean, ‘show off’? It’s your thing; you should wear it,” Tang Qiao said.

After finishing their shopping, the family left the West Market and headed back in the ox cart; it wasn’t even noon yet.

Tang Xianling had finished frying the fish, and the vegetables were all prepped. Hearing the commotion in the courtyard, the eldest sister and her husband returned first with the children, while Tieniu was a bit slower and hadn’t come back yet.

As soon as Tang Qiao stepped through the courtyard gate, she rolled up her sleeves, ready to head into the kitchen to help. “Did I hold you up? I’ll go lend a hand. Wu-ger, don’t prepare too many dishes.”

“It’s fine, sis. I’ve got everything sorted; there’s nothing left to do.” Tang Xianling came out of the kitchen to speak to my eldest sister. “Really, Dalang and Sanlang were a huge help. Dalang even slaughtered the ducks.”

Lin Sanlang was circling his father, begging for a sugar-coated hawthorn, but upon hearing this, he turned to his mother and said, “I also peeled the garlic.”

“That’s right, Sanlang peeled a whole bowl of garlic,” Tang Xianling said with a smile, turning to his eldest sister. “Have a chat with Mother, eat some fruit, and rest a bit. You’ve been running around all morning—go wash your face.”

Jiang Yun fetched some water and called her eldest daughter over to help wash up. “Wipe Erniang down too.”

His brother-in-law even brought back some candied hawthorn on a stick—not just for the three kids, but for Tang Xianling, Tieniu, and Jiang Yun as well.

“My brother-in-law is treating us like kids—thanks, brother-in-law.” Tang Xianling grabbed a skewer of candied hawthorn and started munching on it. The hawthorns were old and a bit sour, and the seeds hadn’t been removed. As he ate, he playfully popped a seed into his mouth with every bite, catching them in the palm of his hand.

Lin Hu chuckled happily.

Last time, Wu-ger had taken his own children to the West Market for some sweet treats and brought some back for him; this was his way of returning the favor. Tang Xianling found them too sour, so after eating two, he set the rest aside in the kitchen—he still had to turn the ducks over.

Tang Qiao and her mother came in to help, though there really wasn’t much left to do. The three of them chatted idly in the kitchen. Jiang Yun brought up the incident where Erniang’s hairpin had been stepped on and broken: “…You should have told Erniang to send that person packing right then and there.”

Before Tang Qiao could say a word, Jiang Yun’s eyes welled up with tears. “It’s my fault. I was too weak back then. I taught you to be just as meek as I am, and now Erniang is just like you.”

The resentment Tang Qiao had been bottling up burst forth.

Seeing his eldest sister in tears, Tang Xianling paused to consider, then refrained from speaking. He continued tending to his ducks, and when he was done, he pretended to be busy, leaving a corner of the kitchen to the mother and daughter.

“When I was ten, my family bought me a new outfit and a hair ribbon for the New Year. I treasured them so much. Later, a customer at the shop brought his daughter to eat, and she said my hair ribbon was pretty. I hid it behind me and wouldn’t let her see it. Father scolded me for being stingy, saying that even if I gave it to someone, they wouldn’t want it…” Tang Qiao’s voice was choked with emotion.

Jiang Yun’s eyes welled up too; the tears streaming down her cheeks were a testament to her own helplessness.

Her eldest had suffered the most alongside her and Old Tang. She remembered Old Tang saying Qiaoniang was stingy and that the customers didn’t want her, saying the young ladies’ clothes looked nice but couldn’t compare to ours—that they were just worthless little maids…

In the end, the hair ribbon was Qiaoniang’s after all; others truly didn’t think much of it, but Old Tang’s words left Qiaoniang with no face. And there were plenty of little incidents like this.

Why did Mother develop the habit of hiding her hair ribbon whenever someone complimented its beauty? Because she’d been cheated out of things like that before—a piece of molasses candy, a scrap of meat. After Erniang and Sanniang finished their own portions, Qiaoniang would have to give hers up to placate her younger sisters.

Every member of the family is dear to her heart—how can you judge that? Old Tang never lifted a finger. Back then, Erniang and Sanniang were little; whenever they started wailing, Old Tang would get annoyed and scold Qiaoniang and ask her how she thought she should look after her younger sisters.

“Do you hate me? It’s Mother’s fault.”

Tang Qiao wiped away a tear. “I’m this old now, but seeing what happened with Erniang this time reminds me of when I was little. Actually, thinking about it now, Erniang and Sanniang were just kids who didn’t know any better—it was just a single bite of food—”

Jiang Yun trembled as she wrapped her arms around her daughter’s shoulders.

“You were little back then, too. It’s all my fault—I’m so sorry I wasn’t strong enough…”

Mother and daughter wept together in the kitchen for a while.

Tang Xianling:…

He didn’t join them in their tears because he simply couldn’t bring himself to cry. The ginger duck was nearly ready, and the aroma was so tempting that tears were practically streaming from the corners of his mouth.

It wasn’t that he was heartless or lacked empathy; rather, some of the grievances his eldest sister had harbored since childhood were now being vented through this incident involving Erniang. It didn’t matter how late it was; being able to speak her mind and have a good cry was a good thing.

After they finished crying, they wiped away their tears. Though they felt a bit shy and embarrassed—especially Tang Qiao, who, at her age and as the mother of three children, found herself feeling wronged over something from so long ago—

But what could she say? Her heart felt thoroughly relieved and at ease now.

“…If you can’t handle it, just call me over, and I’ll help you out,” Jiang Yun said.

Tang Qiao laughed. “Am I supposed to drag my own mother into a fight with my sister-in-law? The whole village would laugh at me.”

“Don’t worry about what the village thinks. It’s unacceptable for her family to bully you and Erniang. Just hit back and yell until you feel better—don’t be afraid of getting a reputation as a shrew—Huzi knows what a good person you are,” Jiang Yun said.

Tang Qiao was taken aback; she felt her mother had changed a great deal lately.

Tang Xianling spoke up then: “Sis, earlier I took a fire poker and went to Old Zhao’s place—you know, the sugar-oil pancake shop right on the street. Mom was in a fight with his mother, and I beat up Zhao Daliang.”

“Oh my! How could you lay a hand on a young man? What about Tieniu? Didn’t he stop you?”

“Back then, we weren’t married yet, and he wasn’t around. When the mood struck him, he’d take it out on me. If I’d put up with it and struck back later, it would have been my fault.” Tang Xianling briefly explained the situation to his older sister. “After the fight, I felt better, and I wanted the neighborhood to know I’m not someone to mess with—so they’d stop picking on my mother and me.”

“Back then, I made a bit of money from the breakfast stall. After covering costs, I’d have over a tael of silver each morning. The Zhao family wasn’t the only one with their eyes on that. If I hadn’t thrown a punch, those lurking in the shadows would’ve definitely come after my mother and me.”

“People in the neighborhood whisper behind my back that I’m fierce. So what? Everyone’s polite to my face anyway; no one dares say it to my face.”

“Sis, the Lin family has split up. You can’t just keep giving in to your sister-in-law, but of course, you shouldn’t burn bridges either. If you stand your ground—since they’re in the wrong to begin with—causing a scene would actually be good for your little family.”

“If you can’t bring yourself to fight and are afraid of coming out on the losing end, then just make a big fuss everywhere. She’s your second sister-in-law—it’s simply not right for her to bully you.”

Tang Qiao nodded thoughtfully. “I understand. I’m not stupid. It’s just that we used to live under the same roof, and I put up with it for so long. Otherwise, if things got messy, my mother-in-law and father-in-law would say it’s just my temperament.”

But this time, seeing her daughter being bullied had stirred up bad memories from Tang Qiao’s past. She didn’t want to be a pushover anymore; she didn’t want to be unable to protect her own children, just like she had been when she was a child.

There was a commotion in the courtyard. Tieniu was back.

“Perfect, now we can cook.” Tang Xianling said, then looked at his older sister. “Don’t you have even the slightest curiosity about what I just said?”

Tang Qiao was taken aback. What was there to ask?

“The breakfast business. Back then, we made a lot—over a tael a day. Now that we don’t have the pork floss bread, it’s a bit less, but the net profit is still about a tael,” Tang Xianling said.

Tang Qiao smiled. She’d thought it was something else. “My Wu-ger has really come into his own. He’s so impressive.” 

Tang Xianling: “……”

He wasn’t Lin Sanlang, after all—he wasn’t looking for praise.

Never mind, never mind. They’ll talk about the breakfast business after we finish eating.

The aroma wafting from the kitchen made the three children in the courtyard so hungry they couldn’t play anymore—even the candied hawthorn on their sticks didn’t smell as good anymore. They didn’t dare go into the kitchen to disturb the adults, nor could they go in looking hungry, lest they seem like beggars. So they stood in a row by the veranda, sniffing the air.

Huangfu Tieniu found this amusing and went into the kitchen to ask, “Is it ready yet?”

“It’s ready, it’s ready. Get the stools ready—don’t eat out in the courtyard; it’s getting hot,” said Tang Xianling.

Jiang Yun: “Then let’s set them up in the main hall. Sister, come with me—let Tieniu stay here and help Wu-ger.” 

Tang Qiao: “Huh?”

Does Wu-ger’s new husband still have to be bustling about in the kitchen?

Jiang Yun didn’t dare say anything. Whenever Wu-ger and Tieniu were together, she had to deliberately stomp her feet as she walked by to give them a heads-up.

“Sis, it’s nothing. Tieniu and I will handle it.”

Tang Qiao finally followed her mother out of the kitchen. In truth, she hadn’t been doing much; Wu-ger had prepared the meal. Lin Hu’s stomach growled, and he asked his wife if there was anything he could help with.

“What’s up? You want to go into the kitchen and lend a hand, too? That’s a rare sight,” Tang Qiao said with a laugh.

Lin Hu: “Don’t laugh at me. Weren’t you craving something when you were just in the kitchen?”

Tang Qiao had been so caught up in recounting old stories and crying with her mother in the kitchen that she hadn’t noticed the aroma at all. It wasn’t until her husband mentioned it that she finally caught the rich, complex scent—

“It smells so good.”

Lin Hu: “That’s right. Don’t laugh at me, but after smelling it for a while, I can’t sit still. Did your younger brother really set a feast for us? I can smell quite a few different dishes.”

Tang Qiao：……

She didn’t know how many dishes Wu-ger had prepared.

“All three stoves are simmering something, plus there’s stir-frying—fish, duck…”

Lin Hu：！

His mother-in-law and Wu-ger were treating his family like honored guests.

“If Mother-in-law and Wu-ger come to our place in the future, we’ll have to slaughter chickens and ducks and treat them to fine wine and food.” Thinking about the future, Lin Hu concluded, “It was the right decision to build a bigger house.”

Tang Qiao’s expression shifted. Could it be that her mother might come stay with her for a few days in the future?

“We should be prepared for that. Now that Father-in-law is gone, if Mother-in-law misses you, or if we have a fourth child and she needs to help with the postpartum confinement, it would be fine for her to come and look after things.”

Tang Qiao’s face flushed bright red. She poked her husband with her finger. “What are you talking about? How could there be a fourth child already!”

“Time to eat!”

Tang Xianling called out. The three hungry little ones were always the most obedient when their uncle gave orders. Tang Xianling barked out his commands: “Dalang, serve the dishes. Erniang, get the chopsticks and bowls. Sanlang—”

“Sanlang, don’t drop the bowl.”

“You get the yogurt.” The yogurt was in bamboo tubes, so it wouldn’t break. The kids obeyed and set to work with great earnestness.

The main dish was naturally served by Huangfu Tieniu. Tang Xianling grabbed a dishcloth to pad the two handles of the clay pot. “Don’t touch it with your bare hands—you’ll burn your fingers—and don’t touch me when they get all rough.”

Huangfu Tieniu, who had originally said it wouldn’t be a problem: …

His husband was right; he really does need to use a dishcloth to hold the pot.

Later, when serving the grilled fish, Huangfu Tieniu did the same. Lin Hu came to help and chuckled, “This young man really knows his manners. I’m different—I just grab it with my bare hands.” 

He then asked, “What else is there?”

“Braised spare ribs. Brother-in-Law, you carry this one.”

The round table in the main hall was laden with dishes: sweet and sour spare ribs, ginger duck, and the star of the show—grilled fish—taking center stage. There were just two vegetable dishes—shredded potatoes and minced pork with eggplant—along with rice and steamed buns for the main course, plus yogurt to cut through the richness.

The three Lin children had never seen a spread like this, not even at village banquets. It smelled so, so good.

Lin Sanlang drooled a little, and the adults laughed. Tang Xianling said, “Don’t make fun of Sanlang—he’s just showing his appreciation for my cooking. Everyone, dig in.”

“Don’t make fun of the kid.”

Lin Sanlang’s face had turned red with embarrassment, but upon hearing Uncle Tang’s words, he felt a surge of pride. “Uncle, your cooking smells amazing.” 

“Go ahead and try it. See if it tastes as good as it smells,” Tang Xianling asked.

Lin Sanlang transformed into a little food critic, determined to give his uncle a “fair” verdict.

“Watch out for the bones. Tieniu bought this fish—it doesn’t have many bones, but they’re all big ones, so be careful,” Tang Xianling cautioned. Huangfu Tieniu picked up a piece of fish skin with the belly meat attached with his chopsticks and placed it in his husband’s bowl.

His husband had been busy all morning; he must be hungry.

Tang Xianling: Hehe. A show-off meal!

Lin Hu had eaten his father-in-law’s dumplings before—they were delicious, with a savory mutton soup and chewy dumplings. He’d even praised them, saying it was no wonder they’d managed to put down roots in Fengyuan City. But today, after tasting the proper dishes cooked by Wu-ger, he was immediately astonished.

Wu-ger could certainly cook for a banquet.

It was better than any banquet he’d ever had.

Everything was fragrant; there wasn’t a single dish that wasn’t delicious. Even the plain shredded potatoes tasted better than what he made at home. The potatoes were cut very thin, yet they weren’t sticky after cooking. The vinegar had a hint of spiciness, making them very refreshing, and with every bite came a slight tingling sensation—it was so crisp and satisfying that he couldn’t stop eating.

But if he had to pick the best, it would be the three meat dishes on the table.

The sweet-and-sour spare ribs were tender and falling off the bone. Little Erniang loved this dish the most. She gnawed on a piece of ribs until her mouth was full of sauce; she licked her lips, but her little arms couldn’t reach, so Lin Hu picked up a piece for her.

Erniang said, “Daddy, I want to eat this sweet sauce.”

“I like mixing the sweet-and-sour sauce with rice,” Jiang Yun said with a smile, scooping a spoonful of the sauce for her granddaughter.

Lin Dalang loved ginger duck. The duck was golden brown on the outside, with fragrant skin. The meat was infused with ginger flavor. The layer of fat between the skin and the meat was glossy and aromatic yet not greasy, while the lean meat underneath was tender and juicy. With every bite, his mouth was filled with the rich, savory juices of the meat.

“You never liked eating ginger at home, so why are you suddenly so eager to eat it now?” Tang Qiao asked in surprise. Lin Dalang felt a little embarrassed; his mother had always said he didn’t like ginger, yet now he didn’t seem to mind it at all.

Tang Xianling grinned. “Big Sister, that’s an easy one. Dalang helped slaughter the duck today. He cleaned it up nice and neat, and now he’s enjoying the fruits of his labor.”

“Dalang loves ginger duck. I’ll tell you how to make it—and you listen up, Dalang, so you can cook it for your wife later.”

Everyone at the table burst into laughter.

Lin Dalang had been saved by Uncle just a moment ago, and now his face was flushing with embarrassment. Yet he didn’t resent Uncle; on the contrary, he was a bit pleased. He believed every word Uncle said.

Tang Xianling explained the recipe for ginger duck right there at the table, advising Big Sister to choose Muscovy ducks when she made it, though he wasn’t too picky if only domestic ducks were available. He emphasized that maltose, sesame oil, and old ginger were the key ingredients.

He also noted that the ginger should be stir-fried over high heat to release its aroma, then the duck should be simmered in a clay pot over low heat, turning it over every so often.

“It’s such a hassle to go through all that trouble just to make a dish. No wonder it tastes so good,” Tang Qiao marveled.

Lin Dalang had taken careful notes; it wasn’t difficult to make, and they had old ginger growing in their own fields. Sanlang and his father both loved fish.

Lin Hu was eating with great relish. When he heard Wu-ger describe the method for ginger duck, he blurted out, “What about this fish dish?” Only after speaking did he realize he probably shouldn’t have asked.

In the past, his father-in-law had been very sensitive about his asking anything related to food.

Not even compliments were allowed—it was as if he were pining for the Tang Family Restaurant.

“It’s nothing, nothing. Don’t mention it. I’m just enjoying the meal—I’m too lazy to cook it myself when I get home,” Lin Hu hurriedly said.

Tang Xianling, unaware of the “secret recipe taboos” swirling in his brother-in-law’s mind, continued the casual conversation: “This dish uses a lot of oil and ingredients—you need plenty of oil to deep-fry the fish, plus fermented black beans and cumin. These spices are pretty expensive…” He explained it all in detail.

In the countryside, pigs are rarely slaughtered except during festivals or special occasions; meat usually comes from poultry. However, everyone slaughters a pig before the Lunar New Year. The ribs are kept for the family—they can be braised as sweet-and-sour spare ribs or used in ginger duck, which is the most convenient dish in the village.

Malt sugar isn’t expensive either; it’s the cheapest type of sugar available these days.

As for sesame oil, people in the Xidu Province area grow both peanuts and sesame seeds, and some farmers even make their own sesame oil using small stone mills.

Lin Hu was astonished. “The fish aren’t expensive—we can catch them right in our river. But as Wu-ger said, those spices and fermented black beans are too much trouble. Forget it, forget it. Let’s just enjoy a good meal.”

But he thought to himself, “Wu-ger’s temperament is the exact opposite of my father-in-law’s. No wonder he can run the family shop—he’s a sharp one. Still, I’ll have to tell the kids about this cooking method later; we can’t let it get out there.”

The whole family sat down to a hearty meal. The youngest, Lin Sanlang, ate until his belly was as round as a ball. Worried the child might get indigestion, Tang Xianling was concerned, so he asked Dalang and Erniang to take the little ones aside for a while and not start cleaning up the pots and dishes just yet.

“There’s no need for the children to help.”

Lin Erniang was at a loss, glancing at her mother—did she really not need to wash the dishes and clean up?

“Listen to your uncle,” Tang Qiao said.

So Erniang sat down—back when the family hadn’t yet split up, no matter how young she was, she’d always had to help clear the table and take the dishes to the kitchen after meals; later, as she grew older, she’d wash dishes, sweep the floor, and wipe down the tables.

“Eat slowly. Have some yogurt in a bit to help with digestion,” Tang Xianling told Lin Dalang.

Lin Dalang, having been given another task by his uncle, watched his younger brother and sister with great care.

Tang Qiao cleared the table and headed to the kitchen. Tang Xianling didn’t try to stop his older sister from helping—he had something to discuss with her. He also didn’t let Tieniu into the kitchen, because if Tieniu were there, his older sister would feel too self-conscious to speak her mind.

The three of them were in the kitchen: Jiang Yun, Tang Qiao, and Tang Xianling.

After Huangfu Tieniu had finished delivering the water and filled the water jar to the brim, he stepped out of the kitchen to give his husband some space to talk.

Inside the kitchen, the three of them were busy with their work. Jiang Yun was still hesitating, unsure how to broach the subject, when Tang Xianling cut straight to the point: “Big Sister, I don’t want to make breakfast anymore. I want to sleep in, but I also don’t want to shut down the breakfast business. Other shops have copied my idea and started selling these same items. They don’t make them as well as I do, but business is still good—they sell out every time.”

“This is a profitable business. I think it’s better to teach you how to run it than to hand it over to an outsider.”

“With our existing shop, after deducting costs each day, we make at least eight hundred wen—if not a tael of silver.”

Tang Qiao was stunned as if struck by a bolt of lightning.