The house had been cleaned up for two days already. Lu Liu had inspected everything first, made sure it was all in order, then left it to air out until the dampness dried completely before bringing his older brother over.
Lu Yang had been arranged down to the smallest detail by him. He walked through the rooms, looked over all three houses, and in the end had only one word to say—“Good.”
Since they were already out, they stopped by to check on the bookstore shopfront as well.
There was even less left in that old general store. When Lu Yang came to look at the space, the owners still had some shelves unsold, so they asked if he wanted to take them together.
Lu Yang had already heard Li Feng describe the size and layout of the shop, as well as how it could be renovated. After looking inside and out, he noticed there were also some mats and cushions left—things that could still be used—so he negotiated a price for everything together.
The shop owners were an entire household of old and young, and Lu Yang did not press too hard on the price. After a brief hesitation, they agreed.
With only this bit of stock left, once it was sold, they could move out sooner.
Hearing that, Lu Yang looked through the remaining goods and bought whatever could be useful at home.
Their three families had been in the prefectural city for quite some time now, and their own household lacked nothing. These items would instead be sent to his godfather and his two elder brothers’ families.
Anything beyond that, he did not buy. There was simply no need.
For now, they left the items in the shop.
Once that was settled, the two brothers wandered the streets a bit.
After staying in the prefectural city for a long time, one began to notice how restless it was. Everyone hurried along. Amid the bustle there was hope, but also impatience and unease. People were all striving to make a living, yet rarely paused to enjoy life.
By comparison, even though it was also a city, life in the county town was much slower. Running a shop there often came with plenty of idle time, leaving room for other things.
Lu Yang, however, was used to being busy. To him, these sounds of the marketplace formed a vivid painting of everyday life.
When he saw a tofu stall, he pulled Lu Liu over to buy some.
The tofu had just been taken out, still steaming.
Lu Yang asked if they had doufunao. The vendor patted the lid of a wooden bucket. “One bucket left, still hot. How much do you want?”
Lu Yang calculated the number of people at home and ordered a whole basin. He paid a deposit for the basin, to be returned after they brought it back.
The stall did not add salt or sugar—once they took it home, they could season it however they liked.
Just getting this basin of doufunao made Lu Yang unexpectedly happy.
He started telling Lu Liu all the different ways to eat it—sweet, savory, spicy—anything worked.
“When I first ate doufunao, I just ate it plain. Later, I was always hungry, so I learned to sneak bites. When no one was watching, I would scoop out a spoonful. After going hungry too long, with no oil in my stomach, I would feel weak, no energy at all. I craved food badly, so I would secretly pour some vegetable broth into the bowl.
“Back then, I would even carry my doufunao to my godfather’s house to get a bit of chili to eat with it. The chili was fragrant—just a small spoonful could go with two bowls of doufunao. The first time I ever tasted sugar was with sweet doufunao. It was Brother Luo who gave me the sugar.
“I never had much to give them, so I said I would treat them to doufunao. In the end, the three of us shared a bowl of sweet doufunao.”
That tiny bit of sugar melted into the bowl, absorbed by the tofu. By the time it reached his mouth, only a faint sweetness remained. The fragrance never even rose—it was completely overshadowed by the bean flavor. But he cherished it deeply. Even now, years later, every time he ate doufunao, he remembered that bowl of sweet tofu.
In his memory, savory doufunao was what he ate most often—usually mixed with vegetable broth. Later, when he learned to cook, he would secretly save himself a bit of proper food, and only then did savory doufunao start to taste truly good.
Because he often ate bland food, he also craved the spicy version.
“When we get back,” Lu Yang said, “I’ll make you a bowl of each. If you like sweet, I’ll add a couple more spoonfuls of sugar.”
Lu Liu was no longer craving sweetness. He had also eaten meals stretched with vegetable broth before—just something to get through hunger. He wanted the savory kind.
Lu Yang listed several savory ways to prepare it. Aside from simply using leftover dishes, one could also cook a separate sauce.
Back then, he liked to add ingredients with a crunchy texture to balance the softness of the tofu—things like shredded radish, peanuts, soybeans, pickled long beans. Later, he would use whatever was available, even adding shredded tofu skin.
It was cooked much like stir-fried dishes, but with more liquid, simmered into a thick sauce that could be poured over the doufunao.
By the time the brothers got home, they headed straight to the kitchen.
Lu Yang had not cooked for a while, having been eating at his younger brother’s place. He stood in the kitchen for a moment, looking around at the pots and bowls, reacquainting himself with the space, before starting by shelling peanuts and frying them.
Lu Liu took the kettle off the stove, replaced it with an iron pot, added water, set up a steaming rack, and placed the basin of doufunao on top to keep it warm. Then he went back to the stove to light the fire.
The large iron pot heated slowly, so during that time he prepared the other ingredients. There were still some dried shrimp at home, bought earlier in the summer when they made fish and tofu stew. He took some, then sliced some radish.
The radish was not pickled sour—it was the common brown salted radish.
They did not have soybeans on hand, as they rarely made them.
There was tofu skin from the day before, so he cut some into short strips.
Recently, Lu Yang had taken a liking to spicy food. He brought out chili powder, heated oil, and poured it over three times. The aroma burst open, filling the entire kitchen.
After frying the peanuts, Lu Yang took over the rest.
His cooking was excellent. Even just making a sauce for doufunao, it looked more appetizing than what was sold outside.
They brought the sauce and the doufunao to the table and called everyone to eat.
The sugar jar was brought out later—Zhao Peilan preferred the sweet version. Her taste was mild.
Chen Guizhi had never eaten doufunao prepared like a dish. In fact, she had never eaten doufunao at all.
She usually only bought tofu or tofu skin, never these small snacks.
Everyone took small bowls, trying both sweet and savory. If they wanted it spicy, they added a spoonful of chili oil and mixed it in.
Lu Liu first filled a small bowl to feed the babies—no seasoning, no sugar, just plain doufunao.
As he fed the babies, Lu Yang came over with his own bowl to feed him, pushing a large spoon right up to Lu Liu’s mouth, making his face flush red.
Lu Yang even made exaggerated “ahh” sounds, coaxing him to open his mouth.
“Come on, let me feed you a couple bites.”
Lu Liu was not sick—he did not need to be fed!
But Lu Yang insisted, like he was coaxing a child. “Ah, so disobedient, you’re giving me a headache! Such a big person, still needs to be chased around to eat—if others saw, they’d laugh!”
Lu Liu was already being laughed at—the whole family was laughing.
He refused to eat, but the two little ones grew tempted.
Smelling the aroma, they wanted the flavorful doufunao.
Lu Liu grew a little anxious. Lu Yang helped distract them—holding the bowl in one hand and waving it in front of Zhuangzhuang, while covering his eyes with the other. He shot Lu Liu a look, and just by following the scent, Zhuangzhuang ate plain doufunao, smiling as if it were delicious.
This happened right in front of Xiao Mai, but he could not tell that Zhuangzhuang had been tricked. Thinking his brother was eating something rich and flavorful, he grew anxious, calling out “Daddy, Daddy!” again and again. He wanted doufunao too!
Children were so easy to fool. Before even starting their own meal, Lu Yang had already confused the two little ones, their heads chasing after the spoon. Every bite they got felt like a reward earned through effort, so tasty they rubbed their hands and feet together in delight.
Their stomachs were small—after a few bites, they were full.
Only then did Lu Yang and Lu Liu sit down to eat their own bowls. The doufunao was still warm and steaming, rich in flavor.
Lu Liu had already developed a “business mindset.” He felt that doufunao could also be sold in their snack shop. In winter, a bowl of it would warm the whole body.
Lu Yang knew how to make tofu. But he had promised Old Man Chen that he would never use that skill to make money.
And he always kept his word. Even now, in the prefectural city, far away—he could do it and Old Man Chen would have no way to stop him—but he would not.
He said to Lu Liu, “You can talk to a tofu workshop about supplying it. Have them deliver half a bucket or a full bucket a day, see if you can get a better price. You cook a pot of sauce, then calculate the cost of sugar and figure out how much to charge per bowl. Don’t make tofu yourself—we don’t have enough hands. It’s not worth it.”
If they really wanted to do it, they could take it slow. Make a plan first, and when they had time, ask Hai Yazi to help find someone skilled in making tofu.
Lu Liu nodded. “I’ll try it after I finish with the honey business. I won’t make tofu myself. How could we possibly do everything on our own?”
