During the Mid-Autumn holiday, not many scholars remained at the academy. The more festive the occasion, the worse business became for their shop.
This was their first year open. Lu Liu had no idea just how slow it might be. He prepared sixty riddles to start with, thinking that if they were not enough, he could simply tie up the old ones again and reuse them.
The riddles were fairly simple. Anyone who answered one correctly would receive a mooncake.
They had calculated the costs. Only customers who came in and spent money could guess a riddle. Based on their previous average spending per person, even if they gave each customer one mooncake on Mid-Autumn Day, they would still earn one or two copper coins per guest. If sixty people came, that would mean an income of sixty to one hundred twenty copper coins. It would at least make for a lively day.
When Mid-Autumn Day arrived, the breakfast business was not good. A few scattered customers bought food. The buns were still being sold by noon.
Lu Liu sat behind the window. Waiting idly like this was not a solution. After saying a word to Shun Ge’er, he returned home, fetched a stack of paper, found a paper cutter and needle and thread, and brought them back to the shop. He intended to make a notebook.
Shun Ge’er came over, puzzled. “Are you making an account book? Do we not already have one?”
Lu Liu shook his head. “Not an account book. A business record book.”
He explained, “This shop is different from the small store in the mountain stronghold. Back then, we sold rice, flour, grain, oil—things that could be stored for a long time. We only needed to restock. Now we sell food, and it is all freshly made, with fixed daily quantities. We do not know when to make more or when to make less. This is our first year in the prefectural city. Everything must be explored step by step. If we rely only on memory, who knows whether we will mix things up next year? I want to write it down, keep it simple. Each day, how many kinds of soup, how many pots of each, how many jin of noodles and vermicelli we make, how many bowls we sell. Then the number of buns and mantou. Next year, when we look back at the same dates, we will know how much to prepare.”
“What if business is even better next year?” Shun Ge’er asked.
“If business is better, we will see it with our own eyes. We will not need to look at last year’s book. Besides, our eatery is small. Even if business improves, there are only so many customers we can seat.”
Lu Liu first cut the paper into book-sized sheets, then took brush and ink and began writing down what he needed to record.
For example, today there was one pot of fish soup, one pot of mixed mushroom soup, one jar of chicken soup, and one jar of pork rib soup. The chicken soup consisted of two small earthenware jars, each made with half a chicken.
There were fifty small buns and thirty flower rolls. No mantou were made. Instead, he had prepared extra-small mantou in advance. The family had rushed to make ten jars of them to keep on hand, replenishing whatever was sold. The salted duck eggs were stored in a crock; many had been sold during the opening days, leaving a little over forty.
There were eight jin of stir-fried flour, packed in half-jin portions in paper packets. There were also egg pancakes—fifteen made each day. They had stir-fried a whole jar of diced mushroom and meat sauce as a topping. Every copper coin was recorded.
The rice vermicelli and mung bean vermicelli were purchased from outside; the wheat noodles were rolled by hand at home. The shop kept ten jin of each in stock.
After writing everything down, Lu Liu examined it carefully, then recopied it neatly.
For items like the extra-small mantou, salted duck eggs, and stir-fried flour, he only needed to record how many were sold. For the freshly made foods, he wrote how many were prepared that day.
After copying it again, he wrote the year and date at the top. Then he thought about when he used to go out in the past.
He would go to market fairs—there were more people then, easier to bargain, and they could sell their own goods. If the household lacked something, they would also go out, choosing clear days. No one went out in bad weather.
It was the same in summer. They would rather set out before dawn than travel on a rainy day. So Lu Liu added a note about the weather at the top as well.
He had once run a shop in the mountain stronghold. Back then, the family still gathered wild mountain mushrooms, and the shop sold many items. He had decent experience keeping accounts. After recording everything, he hovered his brush beside each item and wrote how much had been sold and how much remained.
To make it easier to read, he drew small separators. He knew what each item referred to; there was no need to add extra headings.
The food names were long; the units of measure were short. Lu Liu took another sheet and copied it again in horizontal format, comparing the two. The horizontal layout was clearer, so he settled on that style. He measured out the size and had Shun Ge’er help fold the paper and draw lines.
Judging the thickness to be about right, he stitched one notebook first. After recording for a while, he would see whether it suited their needs. If adjustments were necessary, he would make them. If they continued recording, he would stitch a thicker book next time.
Since it was a festival day, Li Feng had not gone to the dock shop. He had gone out to deliver holiday gifts.
Among the first merchants they had worked with—including Boss Yu of Denggao Tower—Li Feng had not forgotten to send gifts at the New Year and festivals.
He also visited the Ding family’s Shaodaozi Tavern, as well as several clients introduced by Boss Ding.
This year was busier than last. The grand market fair in June had allowed their family to form ties with many merchants.
Beyond that, Li Feng visited the money house, the escort agency, and the shipping firm. At the docks, there were the medicine peddlers, Hong Lao Wu, Steward Xiao Hong, and finally Hong Chu of the Hong family. The Hong household was difficult to enter, and Hong Chu was not at home. As long as the gift was delivered, it was enough.
By the time he finished making the rounds and returned home, the sky was already dark.
He was considering hiring someone—someone clever, quick with words, able to go out, speak well, and maintain relationships.
On his way home, he made a detour to the shop to see how things were.
When Lu Liu saw him, he wiped his hands and invited him inside for a bowl of hot soup to warm himself.
Though it was only a small storefront, Lu Liu tended it as carefully as their home. The moment Li Feng entered, he was guided to the back, to wash his hands and face by the well cover, then given a bowl of fish soup.
Lu Liu sat close beside him. Li Feng stretched out his legs, and Lu Liu raised his small fists to pound his legs gently.
“You ran around all day. You must be tired. After you finish the fish soup, sit and rest a while. When we get home, I will heat water for you to soak your feet and give you a proper massage.”
Holding the bowl in one hand, Li Feng caught his hand with the other, stopping him.
“It was only a few steps. I am not tired. I just smiled all day. My face feels stiff.”
Lu Liu studied his face. “Then I will rub your face for you.”
Li Feng laughed at that and nearly choked.
He gulped down the fish soup, set the bowl aside, turned to face Lu Liu, and first reached out to knead Lu Liu’s cheek.
“My skin is rough and thick. What is there to rub? It is your soft, delicate skin that deserves rubbing.”
Lu Liu chuckled. His face had grown fuller; it felt soft and pleasant to the touch.
He let Li Feng rub his cheeks for a while. When it was about time, they needed to go home to prepare dinner.
The husband and fulang left together, asking Shun Ge’er and He Qingzao to watch the shop.
Lu Liu brought along the notebook he had just made. Before they even reached home, he showed it to Li Feng, explaining how to use it and what purpose it would serve in the future. Li Feng praised him repeatedly. “Xiao Liu, you truly have a gift. You are becoming more and more like a little shopkeeper.”
Lu Liu felt deeply satisfied.
He would certainly keep careful records.
Business had not been good that day. It had been less than ten days since opening. To encounter such cold trade on a festive occasion was truly disheartening.
The elders at home were listless. Each time they asked whether there had been customers and heard the answer, their expressions clouded with worry.
Lu Liu said, “It is fine. We do business with scholars; naturally, we must follow their calendar. When they went off to take the examinations before, our stall income also dropped. In a few days, when they return to study, business will improve!”
In fact, he thought it was better this way. “When they have holidays and festivals, our family should celebrate too. Let us treat it as our own holiday!”
He was open-minded in the face of difficulties, smiling at everyone. After making the rounds at home and chatting, the atmosphere brightened.
The two households lived close to each other. Whenever he had time, Lu Liu would return home to see the two children. After noon, the two little ones even came to the shop to play for a while. When they saw Lu Liu, they still missed him—pressing their cheeks against his, asking to be held, wanting him to coax them.
When Li Feng saw the children, he said, “Tonight we will go out to see the lanterns and buy some toys for them along the way.”
They could let them play and see whether Zhuangzhuang clung to Xiao Mai or preferred to snatch things.
Lu Liu agreed.
On a festival day, the family ate better food.
Chen Guizhi and Wang Fengnian had gone out to buy vegetables and had prepared everything early. When Li Feng returned home, the household began cooking.
Lu Liu did not need to handle this meal. He fetched water and called Li Feng inside to soak his feet.
