Lu Liu had mentioned earlier that she’d make soup noodles. The broth was savory—Li Feng would love it.
Now he discovered that wild mushrooms were equally delicious, and Li Feng liked them even more.
And sure enough, Li Feng also adored savory, sauce-flavored dishes—perfect with rice.
With the mushroom sauce, Li Feng no longer touched the pickles. He devoured bowl after bowl at every meal, filling Lu Liu with satisfaction.
Yao Fulang had barely sat down, his pancake still in the air, when Lu Liu rattled off a string of words. The topic veered back to Li Feng, and he hastily waved his hands: Stop, stop, stop! Don’t talk about your son, Lu Fulang! You’re something else! It’s a good thing I’m already married. Otherwise, you’d be like a matchmaker—day and night, nonstop chatter about Da Feng, Da Feng, Da Feng. I’d think you were trying to set me up!”
Lu Liu widened her eyes. “I’m not setting you up!”
Yao Fulang chuckled and asked him, “You know the saying about not flaunting your wealth, right?”
Lu Liu nodded. “I know it.”
They hadn’t learned many characters, but they knew how to speak.
They understood these words tied to life experience.
You shouldn’t show off your earnings, lest you attract thieves. He knew that.
Yao Fulang replied, “You should hide your good man too. Do you ever hear me praising Daqiang around town?”
Lu Liu instantly forgot why he’d invited Yao Fulang in. He moved closer, sitting right beside him, urging him to say more.
“What do you mean? Teach me—how come I never knew this?”
Yao Fulang didn’t answer, instead taking slow bites of his flatbread.
His belly full, he ate leisurely, praising the taste as he went. His vocabulary was limited, so he repeated “delicious” and “fragrant” over and over.
Lu Liu hadn’t been hungry, but his appetite was whetted. He went to the kitchen and fetched another vegetable pancake to eat.
After they finished the pancakes, Lu Liu leaned close and hooked her arm through his. “Tell me,” she insisted. “Why can’t you praise men in public? Da Feng said his close friends all praise their wives and husbands out in the open.”
Yao Fulang replied, “It’s different. My husband Daqiang doesn’t go around praising me either. Among their close friends, only Dameng, Sanmiao, and your husband Daofeng go out praising their partners. They all married women from outside the village. They need to build connections and reputation with the villagers quickly. I grew up here in the village, so I don’t need that. Everyone already knows me.”
Lu Liu waited eagerly for him to continue, but Yao Fulang said, “I’m thirsty.”
Lu Liu hurried to pour him tea. Seeing him like this, Yao Fulang laughed so hard he was bent over double, nearly rolling across the entire bed.
“What’s with this? Just a stinky man, and you treat him like a treasure.”
Lu Liu still wore a smile, unable to hold a grudge. “Tell me about it. I don’t know any of this.”
Yao Fulang stopped teasing him. “It’s simple, really. Our village has many widows and widowers. Don’t think too highly of people. Haven’t I been married two years without conceiving? Plenty of women have been flirting with my husband Daqiang. I haven’t even spoken well of him outside yet.”
They lived in the village where the fields yielded little grain. Gathering mountain produce brought only meager earnings, and hunting was something no one wanted to take their wives or husbands along for. When a man was gone, one needed to find support. Those like Chen Guizhi, who could hold up the household and raise children alone, were few and far between.
The village had its share of poor folk. Hunting depended on luck; sometimes months passed without a decent catch. Year after year, unable to save silver, they naturally couldn’t afford wives or husbands.
Widows and widowers could pair up, but people naturally aspired upward. They say, “Marry a man, marry a man—clothes and food, but not even enough to feed a mouth. What’s the point of marrying into that?”
So many women set their sights on courting men from wealthier families.
Yao Fu Lang said, “Da Qiang’s hunting grounds have been poor these past years. His family hasn’t brought in much silver, so they’re a bit strapped for cash. But we’re getting by. You know, I’ve never gone without meat. I can’t say I eat it every meal, but at least I get an egg every day. That’s a good life.”
Lu Liu nodded, her small face serious.
So that’s how it works. He really was inexperienced.
He’d ask Da Feng later if anyone had tried to seduce him.
“Hmm, I won’t praise him anymore.”
Yao Fulang had never seen anyone so naive: “Who exactly said you were smart?”
Lu Liu straightened his back proudly: “Mother said it! She’s the one who praised me for being smart!”
That brought the conversation back to business. Lu Liu told Yao Fulang about making stir-fried sauce.
“Want to make sauce together? I’m really swamped here. You could come over—I’ll teach you how, then you can make it at home. I don’t have any extra pots.”
Yao Fulang had a hunch, but hearing it confirmed still surprised him.
“I can come? Aren’t you asking Chen Fulang and the others?”
Normally, Lu Liu should prioritize relatives like Chen Fulang.
Then brothers like Sanmiao and the others.
Lu Liu was close with him, so if they partnered up, they’d have to calculate costs and profits from every angle.
The sauce had precise proportions: half soybean paste, twenty percent mushrooms, ten percent diced meat, plus oil, salt, and soy sauce. The cost for a pound of mushroom sauce was roughly eight to nine cash coins.
Factoring in firewood and waste, they’d round it up to nine cash coins. Selling at twelve cash per pound yielded a profit of three cash coins per pound.
This cost is only possible because they opened a small shop, getting slightly lower wholesale prices. Otherwise, costs would rise further, leaving only one or two cash profit per jin. It’s all hard-earned money.
Lu Liu and Shun Ge’er work together, managing to stir-fry a maximum of twenty jin of sauce per day.
Washing and chopping took time, and ingredients needed prep work. They weren’t stir-frying all day either—there were household chores to attend to.
At current costs, they earned sixty cash per day.
Monthly earnings totaled one tael and eight cash. Divided among them, that was nine cash per person.
People get tired—how could they fry twenty pounds of sauce every single day? Aiming for around one tael and five mace per month was more realistic.
This was the money from their own sales. They didn’t have a shop in the county seat, so they couldn’t sell much. The road was long, the jars were fragile, and the trips back and forth just weren’t worth it. That’s why they delivered to shops instead.
“My brother said if sales exceed five taels of silver, he takes ten percent. If it’s less than five taels, he takes five percent. We did the math: selling 417 jin of mushroom sauce per month just hits five taels. From that profit of over one tael, my brother only takes sixty-odd cash coins—it’s like making nothing.”
Yao Fulang also set up stalls at the market and knew how to handle money.
He lowered his eyes, counted on his fingers, and after a rough calculation, nodded. “Your brother is truly beyond reproach.”
This was no different from working for free. Yao Fulang was willing to pay this commission.
He said, “Has your brother Da Feng mentioned it? About my son Da Qiang’s hunting grounds. Drawing lots depends on luck—three years straight of bad luck, who knows when it’ll end. If you’re willing to teach me how to make the sauce, I’ll work hard at it. If I can’t manage it, I’ll have Da Qiang do it. He’s just sitting around anyway.”
Lu Liu continued, “The cost is what it is. If you can’t predict the outcome, the cost will go up. So it’s still best to calculate based on a two-cash profit.”
Two cash profit per batch—Yao Fulang was willing to take it.
He asked Lu Liu, “Once I start stir-frying sauce, can I still do other things?”
Of course he could do other things.
Lu Liu said, “Let’s try it out first. For the first batch of sauce, I won’t bring you guys into the partnership yet. We don’t know how the business will go, so you can start learning the stir-frying process.”
Even if sales are poor, it’s a skill—you can make your own sauce to eat.
Yao Fulang asked him, “Who else wants to join?”
Lu Liu wasn’t certain yet and only mentioned those who had shown interest.
He figured most would come. With such slim profits and limited capacity, they wouldn’t make big money. Once they got busy with other things, some would surely drop out.
He also needed time to see if they meshed well.
Once the team stabilized and they saved up silver, they’d build a workshop.
On busy days, several families would pitch in.
When things got overwhelming, they’d hire helpers to stir the sauce.
Helpers wouldn’t get a share of the profits—just a fixed wage for their labor.
After hearing the latter part, Yao Fulang paused to consider. He told Lu Liu, “I should go discuss this with Daqiang. Your proposal isn’t like making rice cakes—where we contribute money and labor each year to share profits. This is a fixed partnership. I can’t decide on my own.”
