The Blessed Farm Girl Has a Spatial Storage
Chapter 17: Doing Business

Chapter 17: Chapter 17: Doing Business

At that time, soybean processing techniques were not refined, so they were difficult to eat, scratching the throat. As a result, people would only eat soybeans during a famine or if their family was too poor to afford wheat.

That’s why Mrs. Liang had said that.

Zhao Leiguang shook his head and went to clean the millstone. Because Zhao Dong had been grinding wet soybeans, he had to clean the millstone.

Mrs. Liang pursed her lips and gossiped again, "I hear the neighbors saying that Zhao Dong’s family doesn’t know how to manage their lives. Times are so tough, yet they’re still buying candy for their daughter. Tell me, surely he didn’t sell their flour to buy candy for his daughter, did he?"

Zhao Leiguang kept his head down, busying himself without answering her. Mrs. Liang continued talking to herself.

"If you ask me, your father shouldn’t have lent flour to their family. Who knows if he can even pay it back? What if he ends up relying on us later? We should be getting closer to Auntie Wang’s family. Her son is the most promising in the village, and if her grandson becomes an official in the future, that will benefit our family. Don’t you agree?"

She talked for a good while, but seeing that her husband wasn’t paying her any mind, Mrs. Liang grew annoyed. She went over and patted Zhao Leiguang, "Hey! I’m talking to you. Did you hear me?"

"Of course, I’m listening," Zhao Leiguang said, somewhat unhappily. "Let me tell you, you’d better not say those things again. If Father hears you, he’ll definitely be angry."

"Besides, Father has his reasons. I don’t think he’s wrong. Brother Dong is a good man, loyal and righteous. Now that he’s in trouble, and since our family is the Village Chief’s, it’s only right that we help him out. You should also stop spreading baseless rumors outside."

Having been told off by her husband, Mrs. Liang looked embarrassed and, fuming, said no more.

Zhao Dong, who was already some distance away, naturally didn’t hear any of this. Even if he had, he likely wouldn’t have paid it much mind.

When he returned home, Sun Mei was already up and washing her face in the courtyard.

Seeing Zhao Dong park the cart, she hurried forward to help him carry the soy milk into the kitchen. Then, after closing the main gate, she pulled Zhao Dong towards the vegetable garden, a mysterious grin on her face. "Husband, look at these vegetables! Aren’t they much bigger than last night?"

Zhao Dong looked and was stunned as well.

Although most of the vegetables in the garden weren’t ready to eat yet, they were clearly much larger than they had been the previous night.

They grew this much in a single night?

Zhao Dong exclaimed in surprise, "What... what’s happened here?"

Sun Mei, being an avid reader, immediately let her imagination run wild. She whispered, "Do you remember our daughter watering the vegetables last night?"

Zhao Dong was puzzled. "I remember. Why?"

Sun Mei gave him an exasperated look. "And you complain about me reading novels! This has to be our daughter’s ’golden finger.’ That’s how it’s always written in those stories! Probably some kind of ’wish-granting lucky carp’ effect or something."

Seeing Zhao Dong’s disbelief, Sun Mei shrugged. "You don’t believe me? Fine, then you explain how the vegetables grew so much overnight."

Zhao Dong quickly put on an apologetic smile. "How could I dare not believe my dear wife?"

At this, his expression turned serious. "But whether it’s a golden finger or a silver one, this matter must be kept secret. Absolutely no fourth person can know about this."

"Right, right, right," Sun Mei nodded repeatedly. "I’ll tell Tongtong later, too, and make sure she doesn’t go around talking about it."

Zhao Dong nodded. "We can’t be careless about this. Later, I’ll go up the mountain to cut some bamboo and build a fence around the vegetable garden. That way, people won’t be able to see the vegetables right when they open the gate."

So, Zhao Dong, having just returned from grinding the soybeans for tofu, didn’t even take a break before heading out again, working tirelessly to cut bamboo for the fence.

This was arguably their busiest day since transmigrating.

After breakfast, Sun Mei and Zhao Dong began working in the courtyard, trimming bamboo and tying it together to make the fence. They were busy until almost noon, when Sun Mei had to go to the school to cook. Zhao Dong then went to Carpenter Wang’s place at the village entrance to order tofu frames.

Since such things didn’t exist there, Zhao Dong worried Carpenter Wang wouldn’t know how to make them. So, he drew a diagram and explained it carefully. Only after Carpenter Wang successfully made the first one did Zhao Dong leave, relieved.

He ordered twenty sets of molds in total. He figured they couldn’t all be finished in one day and would likely be ready for pickup tomorrow.

However, Zhao Dong took one frame back with him to use for now.

After leaving Carpenter Wang’s house, Zhao Dong didn’t go straight home. Instead, he detoured to Blacksmith Zhao’s place in the village and ordered a large iron pot.

When Sun Mei returned from cooking at the school, she didn’t rest either and immediately started the process of making tofu.

The process of making tofu was actually quite simple. First, the ground soy milk needed to be filtered. Sun Mei didn’t discard the filtered soybean residue; she stir-fried it with chopped green onions and wrapped it in thin pancakes to eat—it was delicious.

The filtered liquid was soy milk. The next step was to cook the soy milk. Cooking it properly was also a technical task; if boiled for too long, the quality of the soy milk would be affected.

After it was cooked, the most crucial step was to use heated plaster to curdle the soy milk. The skill of curdling tofu with plaster was something that could only be understood through experience, not taught with words. Whether the tofu turned out firm or tender depended on practice and careful judgment.

Sun Mei had figured this out in her previous life, so she was confident she could handle it well.

She made two types in total: one frame of firm tofu and one basin of softer tofu.

When Zhao Dong rushed back, the tofu was just about to be pressed and set. The tofu frame he had brought back was put to use immediately.

Zhao Dong had asked the carpenter to carve a pattern into the bottom of the tofu frame: small squares arranged in four rows and five columns. After the tofu set, its surface would be imprinted with this pattern, making it convenient for cutting later.

Half an hour later, the tofu had set.

They removed the pressing board, unfolded the cloth, and there it was—smooth, tender, white tofu, ready!

Sun Mei also mixed a special secret sauce to go with the softer tofu. Actually, she had also thought of making a sweet version, which would be easier—just sprinkle some white sugar on top. But sugar was incredibly expensive there.

Zhao Dong had said that in the marketplace, one tael of sugar cost twenty-six coins. Although they had some in their space, Sun Mei wanted to save it for their own family’s use.

Making it savory was also fine; people in the northern regions generally preferred savory tofu.

Before Sun Mei cut the tofu, Zhao Dong first weighed it and made some calculations. One tael of soybeans yielded nearly three taels of firm tofu. If making the softer, basin-style tofu, one tael of soybeans could produce twelve and a half taels of it, enough for eighteen bowls.

According to the prices they had previously discussed, one tael of firm tofu would sell for three coins, and one bowl of the basin tofu for one coin.

The current cost of soybeans was only one coin per tael. Calculating it this way, there was a significant profit to be made.

Thinking about all this, Sun Mei suddenly felt a thrill of excitement.

Zhao Dong said, "Let’s keep a piece for ourselves for dinner tonight. Divide the rest and let’s send some to the Village Chief and to Shi Tou’s family."

"Alright."

Zhao Dong had already decided last night whom to give some to.

The Village Chief’s family definitely had to receive some. Ever since their family property was divided, the Village Chief had taken good care of them. Moreover, the Village Chief held high prestige in the village and was trustworthy.

Zhao Dong also intended to send some to Butcher Zhao’s family.

Although they hadn’t had much interaction before, he had run into Butcher Zhao selling meat at the marketplace on their last trip. Though the man appeared big and burly, he was actually quite kind and thoughtful. He had even enthusiastically shared various tips about running a business. Therefore, Zhao Dong thought he could ask for his opinion or for him to look things over.

After the tofu was cut, Sun Mei took a bowl of the firm tofu and a bowl of the dressed basin tofu and headed first to the Village Chief’s house.

Mrs. Tian, the Village Chief’s eldest daughter-in-law, was at the doorway, grabbing her son’s arm and scolding him. When she saw Sun Mei approaching, she let go. The boy, as if granted a reprieve, darted back into the house in a flash.