Poor families live frugally, rarely replacing their cotton garments.
Lu Liu kept one coat for wearing, unraveling the rest to first make quilted vests, then saving the cotton for trousers. She altered large coats into smaller ones.
Chen Guizhi and Shun helped out, seizing the opportunity while waiting for the county’s reply to finish this batch of work.
Other items could be sorted gradually.
First, they brought out the spring and summer clothes to air them out, banishing the damp smell.
The transition between seasons was fleeting; the heat arrived suddenly.
They still worked daily, unable to bear the weight of heavy garments.
As the hour approached, Lu Liu set aside her needlework and peered out into the courtyard. Seeing no sign of Li Feng’s return,
He figured some county business must have delayed him, so he turned back to the kitchen to prepare supper.
Tonight’s meal would be simple fare. He steamed a plate of cured pork slices. The slices fit neatly in two concentric circles around the small plate—only sixteen in total. Each person would get four slices. It was a splendid dish.
He steamed some sweet potatoes too. The family hadn’t eaten many sweet potatoes this winter; most had frozen solid. When he cut one open, only a few slices remained intact. It pained him deeply, and he knew they had to be eaten soon.
He also steamed some egg custard. The eggs had been brought by Er Tian and his wife. After keeping them at home for several days and confirming the couple hadn’t come asking for them back, Lu Liu finally used the eggs.
Then stir-fry a bowl of greens. There were still some cabbages in the cellar, enough to fill their bellies.
After finishing these tasks, he handed over a stick of thin firewood and went outside again to look around.
This time he saw Li Feng. On his cart sat a cage, with chicks chirping inside.
Lu Liu greeted him joyfully, calling out “Da Feng” while her eyes were glued to the chicks.
The chicks were tiny, easily two or three fitting in one hand. Each had soft, beautiful yellow down feathers, utterly adorable.
Li Feng hadn’t taken many—three males and five females, eight in total.
Lu Liu counted them and asked, “Did you see my brother-in-law? What did he say?”
Li Feng relayed Xie Yan’s words: “His body is too depleted. He needs to nourish himself properly now. The doctor said he can recover.”
Lu Liu felt somewhat reassured and inquired about the specifics: “Does he need to eat meat and eggs?”
That’s how people in the village nourish themselves.
Li Feng didn’t ask for recipes for medicinal soups or broths. He’d spoken too much today and had no time for anything else.
He knew Xie Yan had stewed chicken soup for Lu Yang to drink—he wasn’t stingy.
Lu Liu felt even more reassured upon hearing this: “He’s still a decent person.”
Li Feng nodded in agreement: “Yes. ”
Most families couldn’t afford such expenses. Better-off households might splurge on medical treatments, but few would specifically prepare nourishing soups for health supplements.
The Xie family still struggled financially; their shop only brought in small profits. Xie Yan was doing quite well.
Li Feng led the mule to the animal shed while Lu Liu unloaded the chicken coop.
The chicken coop was already built, with a fence separating it from the rabbit hutch. Even when fully grown, the chickens wouldn’t be much bigger, so this space would suffice.
Lu Liu specifically lit a lantern to inspect the newly caught chicks.
He pulled them out one by one, examining each carefully under the lantern before returning them to the coop.
Over the years, he’d gained experience raising chickens. With just a glance, he could tell if a chick was healthy and had the potential to grow big.
This time, his father came along to watch the chick selection. Everyone in their family was skilled at raising chickens, and the chicks they’d inspected were all in good condition.
He prepared food for the chickens—tonight they’d eat finely ground, aged coarse rice.
Tomorrow he’d take the chicks to the vegetable garden. He’d found several ant nests where they could eat their fill.
As soon as the two chicks arrived, Erhuang in the doghouse started acting up again.
With more animals in the household, Erhuang began vying for attention.
Li Feng remembered him and tossed him a big bone.
Erhuang let out a “woof” and settled down.
Lu Liu couldn’t help but smile. “Who does he take after?”
Li Feng couldn’t quite put it into words. “Just a puppy, doesn’t know any better.”
After feeding the mules some more fodder and grabbing the pig stomach, the two could head back inside to wash up and eat.
Shun Ge had already set the dishes on the table. A pot of congee made from rice crusts was simmering; they could have it later.
Lu Liu fetched water to wash his hands and spotted the pig stomach. He casually asked, “Did you buy this?”
Li Feng replied, “Your brother bought it and asked me to bring it to you.”
Lu Liu froze, realizing this was a return gift from her brother.
She didn’t know what to say. It hadn’t been long since she’d sent the rabbit over, and she didn’t know if they’d eaten it yet.
As they sat down to eat, Li Feng mentioned again how Lu Yang had sent the pig stomach.
Chen Guizhi also froze. “He just gave it to you?”
Li Feng had tried to refuse, but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it.
He said, “Their family is about to strike it rich. A pig’s stomach is nothing.”
The mention of wealth perked everyone up.
Shun Ge’er and the others all asked curiously how exactly they were going to get rich.
Li Feng pulled a book from his bosom. They had only recently begun learning to read, their literacy levels roughly equal, and most of the characters in this book were unfamiliar to them.
“Making money by printing books. The book was written by Xie Yan. He says it’s about methods for answering imperial examination questions. They’ve already printed several hundred copies. The book is expensive. With hundreds of copies sitting there, they should easily make a hundred taels of silver, right?”
Compared to the soy sauce business, their family was far behind.
Chen Guizhi felt a pang of sadness. “Your father always said he’d send you to school.”
Li Feng didn’t dwell on the past. He was learning to read at home now and didn’t even want to set foot in the old scholar’s house.
Those books were awkward and boring. He had no interest in learning meaningless things with all that head-shaking and swaying.
With all his strength, forcing him into a classroom was truly a hardship.
He said, “We could print books too.”
When asked what kind of books, Li Feng couldn’t say.
He couldn’t tell his mother what books, nor could he discuss it in front of his younger brother.
After dinner, Li Feng called Lu Liu into his room. He pulled a picture book from the bedside cabinet and said, “I asked Xie Yan. We can print this.”
Lu Liu’s cheeks flushed. “How? Take it out? We haven’t even figured it out yet.”
Both eager to make money, they exchanged a few suggestive remarks before sitting down, spreading out the album, and discussing printing the book.
Li Feng had lingered longer at Old Master Lu’s that afternoon, thoroughly inquiring about the printing process.
Woodblock printing for illustrations was pricier, costing eighty to one hundred and fifty cash per page.
If they needed the blocks processed, printed, and bound, additional labor fees applied.
For just the blocks, only the carving fee was required.
After completion, ink was applied to the blocks, pressed onto paper, and left to dry—each sheet became a finished print.
Depending on how many pages a book had, they bound it if the count was sufficient.
They offered several binding methods. Books for scholars were typically thread-bound.
Popular fiction books were glued together with paste, not too meticulously, so pages might come loose with frequent flipping.
Master Lu didn’t elaborate on other binding methods; these two were the most common.
They each took several picture books to count the pages. The thickest had only twenty pages, the thinnest just nine.
Counting by illustrations, that made thirty-eight pictures and sixteen pictures respectively. The front and back covers had no illustrations.
Li Feng brought out his abacus again.
Their family didn’t have much silver. They’d just started up, and expenses were high everywhere.
Setting up a workshop and finding partners would take half a year.
Only by saving up this way could they afford the lion’s share.
If printing books brought in quick cash, they could assemble a team much faster.
The album could be smaller too—palm-sized would suffice, saving paper.
One ream contained a hundred sheets; one large sheet could yield one hundred and eight smaller ones.
As beginners, buying one ream would suffice.
One inkstick could print about one and a half books, depending on ink usage.
With just a few pages for the art book, one ink bar should print three to five copies.
Li Feng planned to buy half a ream of paper, ten ink bars, and ten paintings first.
The woodblocks for ten paintings would cost between 800 and 1,500 cash coins. Half a ream of paper was 200 cash coins, and ten ink bars would be 250 cash coins. Then they’d take it home and bind it themselves.
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