In the summer, eggs were cheap—one coin apiece. He had someone gather eggs, but to make a profit, they didn’t follow the market price; they sold a little cheaper, around six eggs for five coins. At ten coins per dozen, he only made the equivalent of one egg’s worth per sale—not worthwhile.
It was too hot, and eggs and meat didn’t keep well.
Every noon, he sold meat at twelve coins per pound. That meant the leftover meat from morning fillings had to be sold quickly. Meat was in demand—people bought it half a pound at a time, no need to worry.
Sauces didn’t last long either, so he set aside a day at the end of the month for sauces.
He avoided scheduling both early and late-month sales on consecutive days: vegetables and eggs on the fifth, game on the fifteenth, sauces on the twenty-fifth.
Once decided, Lu Yang waited for the day to mellow a bit, then sent Ginkgo and Pomegranate to shout the news outside.
The first vegetable-and-egg day was improvised; he turned his stock into the customers’ stock. If customers bought too much and let the greens wilt at home, he simply charged for the wilted vegetables. Selling fresh vegetables at discounted prices made a bigger difference than just selling wilted ones outright.
Lu Yang couldn’t reduce prices for wilted vegetables, so he came up with this method.
There were plenty of edible greens this season. Restaurants and inns bought some, the Luo brothers sold some in East City, and he still had a lot left.
What to do with the surplus? Lu Yang gave them as gifts.
Some went to the Wu family, some to Boss Ding, some to Xie Yan’s teachers, and some to his godfather, Old Master Lu. The Luo brothers could help deliver the vegetables to East City, reducing his load.
He also gave some to butcher Liu and the rice store.
Additionally, he met a new butcher, Gong, to whom he also sent some.
Any remaining vegetables were taken home to offer to neighbors.
After two busy days—one vegetable-and-egg day and one round of gifting—the shop felt much more organized.
By July, Old Man Chen had been quiet for a long time. Lu Yang waited for him to come up the mountain, but Li Feng had locked him in a safe house for a scolding, so nothing happened.
Lu Yang thought for a moment and sent Pomegranate to buy two blocks of tofu, just to check on the Chen family tofu shop.
He wouldn’t stroll down that street himself—too far, too hot, too bothersome to deal with people.
Pomegranate circled the area several times before buying tofu, unsure of what he was looking for.
Old Man Chen hadn’t provoked Lu Yang, but he was well aware of the shop’s situation.
Lu Yang was generous. He first hired a couple, then two young men. For a small shop, four workers were plenty. With Lu Yang also overseeing, that made five.
The tofu shop had never had hired help before, and the old man labored tirelessly from dawn to dusk—he had sore eyes from strain.
He called out to Pomegranate: “Why are you wandering around?”
Pomegranate was startled. Not expecting to be addressed, he fumbled.
His surprise was genuine—even Old Man Chen was confused. Wasn’t he here to question him?
Pomegranate glanced around and pointed at himself: “You’re asking me?”
Old Man Chen nodded. “Why are you wandering?”
Pomegranate scratched his head. He didn’t know the situation fully, so he couldn’t reveal too much.
“I’m just taking a walk, playing a bit. The shop isn’t busy, so I came out to stretch.”
Old Man Chen snorted. Hired help, yet free time to play.
Pomegranate, seeing Chen fall silent, circled a few more times, hiding in shady spots to chat with other vendors.
In poor families, women and men selling goods didn’t hide themselves. Many sold outside. He was inconspicuous.
Chen had started the conversation, so he pointed toward the tofu shop. “Do you know the old man at that tofu shop? I came out for a walk, circled around, and he questioned me—I got a scare.”
The group hadn’t seen Pomegranate before, so they asked what he was doing first.
He told the truth: “I’m a food-selling helper. Our boss Lu asked me to come out since there are few customers lately, to get some fresh air.”
Speaking of food, his shop had a solid reputation. Even those farther away came to buy vegetables.
With an open shop, it was more convenient than the market—you could get whatever you needed anytime, no luck or waiting for farmers.
Especially during the recent game-meat day, there were deer and wolf meat—famous throughout the county.
Customers and business contacts all said Lu Yang was kind, generous, enthusiastic, and capable.
Only after these introductions did the group discuss the tofu shop.
“That’s the Chen family tofu shop, not honest people. When they moved here, tofu was two coins per block, then increased to three coins per block, or five coins for two. After the price hike, business slowed. They sold it back at two coins per block, but the tofu was watery, appearing large—they didn’t press it fully. People complained, so they made smaller blocks, claiming pressed tofu is smaller. Not fair.”
“Their youngest went out to collect beans. Good beans sent to them—at home, we weigh them one way, at their shop another way—always short a pound or more. When paying taxes, this didn’t happen! They even picked out shriveled, moldy beans, claiming poor quality, and reduced payment per pound. Who could bear that?”
“The eldest wanted a wife. The matchmaker checked several candidates. Handsome ones, he rejected, claiming they were too flirtatious. Hear that? Compliments? The candidates had older brothers, and after a scolding, he behaved. Later, he asked the matchmaker for hardworking and practical girls. When brought over, he wanted handsome ones instead. Father and son argued endlessly—the marriage couldn’t proceed. Then the youngest suddenly had a lover with a big belly, so they brought her home first. The youngest married before the eldest—the household was chaotic!”
The Chen family was messy, but lively.
With time to spare, people would chat, and the conversation naturally turned to the tofu shop.
Pomegranate hesitated about buying tofu.
“Can we still buy tofu?” he asked.
The vendors said: “Yes, the family isn’t very fair, but the tofu is still quite good.”
Pomegranate: “…His father was right. Skilled people won’t starve.”
He bought tofu, while Old Man Chen watched.
Pomegranate wasn’t afraid—he was a customer. As Lu said: the bigger the world, the bigger the guest!
“Will you sell or not? Hurry, I want two blocks.” Pomegranate urged.
Chen took five coins.
Pomegranate, knowing tofu had dropped to two coins per block, fished out four coins from his pocket.
They stared at each other.
After a while, Old Man Chen gave in to the four coins.
Pomegranate returned with two blocks of tofu, proud and excited, telling Lu Yang everything, eyes red.
Lu Yang sniffed the tofu. “It’s sour.”
Pomegranate froze, looking at it in disbelief, sniffing again—he felt the world collapse.
Lu Yang laughed. “It’s okay. This is fresh tofu. Once prepared, it’s still a dish.”
Having dealt with tofu for over a decade, he knew its taste well.
No family would lightly discard tofu. These two blocks were freshly made today—the sourness was normal and safe to eat.
Lu Yang had Ginkgo watch the shop and took Pomegranate to the kitchen to prepare the tofu, then asked him about the Chen family’s situation.
After hearing it, he understood—no wonder Old Man Chen hadn’t tried to cozy up to Lu Yang recently or visited the village to see Lu Liu; the household was in disarray, too busy to spare the time.
