Her Cultivation Diary
Chapter 1018 - 998. Manly Spirit

Chapter 1018: 998. Manly Spirit

Big Smarty was stuck.

This topic was clearly trapped in a dead-end loop. He struggled to come up with something for a long while, all to show support for his buddy. Before this, he even held back from eating his fill!

But Song Tan was still cheerful: "I know you’re trying to help Qiaoqiao, thank you so much! But you’ll see when you eat later—our stuff doesn’t need any sales pitch. Come, let me see what you guys brought."

The high schooler let out a wistful sigh.

He understood how adults are. No matter what, they always assume the stuff from their family is the best — up in the heavens and unmatched on earth. Lots of companies self-destruct like this...

But what can you do when it’s your goofy new buddy?

Worst-case scenario, beg Dad for help. If their family’s stuff doesn’t sell next year, then lend them a hand. He already asked Qiaoqiao—they’re from a remote rural area. Life must be tough for them.

And don’t be fooled by how good-looking this pair of siblings is—they’re still a bit insecure when faced with big-city folks. Otherwise, why would Qiaoqiao still wear those branded shoes?

He had a pair too, though his own were already in terrible shape from regular wear.

Not like Qiaoqiao, who only dared to wear his new ones when coming to the Imperial City, probably afraid of being looked down on.

Ha! That’s totally unnecessary! Anyone who looks down on you so casually isn’t even worth impressing...

The little high schooler’s mind started spinning, almost finishing three Long Aotian-style revenge scripts. At this moment, seeing Song Tan pondering what to eat, he quickly perked up:

"This import-export produce exhibition area has everything from rice flour to seasoning—if you want, I can even snag some spices for you."

"Besides, these brands aren’t necessarily the most trending ones in the market. They usually use opportunities like this to keep old customers spreading their reputation by word of mouth."

He spoke confidently, sounding like he really knew his stuff: "So, Sister, now that you’re here, don’t even think about ordering takeout. Just grow a thick skin—you can eat your fill from morning to night."

"And anyway, we’re not freeloading; we’re studying the market, right?"

Song Tan chuckled: "From the way you talk, it sounds like you’ve got solid family teaching... Alright, show me how your market research is going. If it’s good, I’ll make sure Qiaoqiao picks an entire carton of strawberries for you later."

"No need!" The high schooler replied lazily, "Things are easy to buy in Qin City too. Strawberries are expensive right now—Sister, you should keep them to sell locally."

As he spoke, he touched his belly briefly before slyly switching topics:

"There’s rice too, but over there, they only let us sample two spoonfuls, not a whole bowl. I tried it—it’s pretty good. But their rice is expensive, over ten yuan per pound. Qiaoqiao insisted it wasn’t as tasty as your family’s and wouldn’t let me ask for more."

"Though there’s plenty of wheat-based food—look here! This is small-wheat flour from the Rock Mountain Area. They explained a lot, but I didn’t remember much. Anyway, they said it’s especially good for making flatbread."

They brought quite a stack of thinly rolled-out flatbreads, some steamed, some pan-fried, stuffed in bags and now softened.

"This one’s green bean flour—I think it’s average. They gave us a small bowl."

"And this one here—it’s particularly good for making mantou, very soft..." The high schooler kept explaining, and Qiaoqiao pulled out a plastic bag from his jacket.

This particular mantou flour was from an unknown district, but the vendor handed them out generously: ten big, fluffy white mantou! No wonder Qiaoqiao’s down jacket bulged so much underneath.

Song Tan was quite surprised: "You said you’re begging for food, but I didn’t expect you’d get this much?"

The high schooler scratched his nose, feeling a bit bashful: "Actually, the staple food sections here really have poor foot traffic. Hardly anyone buys... I told them I was hungry and wanted to try one, and they packed three or four for me."

"But then Qiaoqiao said he and Sister were hungry too, so they packed ten more in one go..."

The high schooler sighed: "Say what you will, but they’re definitely generous! Seeing that they’re probably from the mountains too, I’m thinking of buying a few packs and sending them home later this afternoon."

"Sounds good." The bag was opened; the mantou were still warm. Catching their mouthwatering aroma, Song Tan nodded approvingly:

"This flour really is nice. My family could use some too—Qiaoqiao, this afternoon, go with..."

"I’m Yang Zhengxi," the high schooler interjected immediately.

"Alright," Song Tan continued smoothly, "go with your friend Yang Zhengxi, and buy 20 packs of each type of flour. Do you remember Master Li’s license plate and phone number? Get them delivered. Leave them a contact too."

The flour bags weren’t large—20 packs didn’t add up to much weight, though they likely wouldn’t last long with Lao Song’s family’s hefty appetites.

They might even polish it off at a single pig-slaughter feast.

"Huh?" Yang Zhengxi’s mouth fell open: "Flour costs money, doesn’t it? Don’t you two know how to budget?"

Qiaoqiao thought for a moment: "Our family has a lot of people to feed, and they all eat a ton! We were going to buy flour anyway. Those vendors were really nice, so I want to buy theirs."

Fair enough.

Yang Zhengxi didn’t push further. He was sweet-tongued, youthful-looking, and had a knack for begging—though even the lady with the rice didn’t give him more than a small bowl.

Instead, the flour vendors enthusiastically catered to them, knowing they were young but still stuffing them with flour pancakes—claiming to have steamed or pan-fried layers and layers, yet hardly any customers came to eat them. They figured giving it away was better than letting it sit untouched.

Song Tan stared at the staple foods briefly before asking Qiaoqiao again: "What should we eat for lunch?"

Qiaoqiao thought for a while, then started counting the veggies displayed at the booths:

"Cucumber salad, stir-fried shredded radishes, and maybe make some roasted pepper dip—sound good?"

His culinary names rolled off his tongue so professionally that Yang Zhengxi was momentarily stunned: "You’re even going to cook?"

He panicked: "Why didn’t you say so earlier? If you had, I’d have gone to the seasoning area to see if I could borrow some sauce or vinegar..."

"No need!" Qiaoqiao grinned: "Our Seventh Uncle rarely uses seasonings when stir-frying—my dishes taste great even without them. I’ll let you try later."

Of course, since there were no steamers or ovens here, Qiaoqiao planned to tweak a few steps accordingly.

He was just about to start when Song Tan stopped him:

"Wait a moment—I see the judges are about to come over."

Sure enough, just a booth away, a whole crowd was gathering—it was clear they’d started the tasting phase.

Qiaoqiao lit up with excitement: "Are we going to win an award?"

Song Tan nodded: "Almost."

Yang Zhengxi: ...

Sigh! This new buddy was perfect in every way, except for being taught unshakable confidence by his family.

He thought for a while, then leaned in close to elbow Qiaoqiao: "If the judges say it’s bad, you won’t cry, will you?"

Qiaoqiao blinked cluelessly: "Of course not! Our family’s stuff is the best!"

Yang Zhengxi glanced at Song Tan, who was busy unsealing containers and peeling back cling film, sighed helplessly—

The sheer variety of food on display was overwhelming, from sweet potatoes to tomatoes to cucumbers to strawberries. This family was clearly planting all sorts of crops, but didn’t have their priorities straight.

"Alright then! At least if you cry, I promise I won’t laugh at you."

He declared with a sense of chivalry.

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