She Only Cares About Cultivation-Chapter 815 - 771: Famine Era 12 (Second Update)
Everyone was busy with their own tasks, and no one was slacking off. Even though heavy snow was falling from the sky, it didn’t freeze their desire for life.
"Grandma, is the tofu selling well?"
Ye Huan washed her hands and began kneading the dough. Grandma asked Ye Yu to step back, taking a few kids inside to play while she tended to the stove.
"Good, very good indeed. Especially these days, it’s been great. Everyone in our village is ordering two or three jin per family. As New Year approaches, everyone wants to indulge at least once. These buns with tofu are delicious, you know. Your dad and the others have been working tirelessly early in the morning these days, I feel sorry just watching them!"
"Grandma, it’s precisely because of this that there’s more motivation to work. Even though they’re tired, they’re happy inside. Look, hasn’t our tofu earned a good reputation?"
"Exactly, they all say our tofu tastes better than others’. Sometimes people from other villages come to ours just to buy it. But most of them bring grains to exchange. Initially, some mixed in stones, but seeing that the clean ones got more in return, no one dared to cut corners anymore."
"Right, isn’t it better to be honest? Why use those little tricks, thinking they can fool us that easily?"
"Now, they don’t dare anymore. If the beans or grains aren’t clean, we won’t trade with them. Anyway, we’re not worried about selling our tofu anymore!"
Selling tofu is hard-earned money. It seems like a lot, but considering the labor costs, it’s not that much. It seems more now because we’re dividing it among ourselves. If this money went to outsiders, would it still be a lot? Definitely not. Not only wouldn’t it be more, but less because the price of meat and eggs is fixed.
Making tofu is hard work, but in the end, tofu is tofu, not eggs or meat.
Grandma then asked about her life in the city, like how the employers treated her, how many characters she recognized, whether she could keep accounts, if she was eating and living well...
She was already familiar with these questions and handled them smoothly. She even told Grandma that in the summer, she could take her high elementary school graduation exam.
High elementary school refers to fifth grade, and some places refer to this level as higher education.
The family needed time to adjust. She had studied for a year, plus half a semester in spring, making it a year and a half. While graduating from elementary school in a year and a half seemed unlikely, it wasn’t impossible, especially since she had been taught by a professor.
Grandma didn’t understand these things but knew her granddaughter was becoming a cultured person. Look, her way of speaking was increasingly like that of a city person.
Grandma kneaded a lot of dough, estimating enough to steam ten or so trays, because there were not only buns but also steamed buns. This meant they had to prepare enough for the New Year’s consumption.
With a large family, even steaming ten trays would only last until the fourth day of the first month.
The dough was kneaded bit by bit. As one person rolled out the dough, another filled and wrapped it, making quick work of it.
In the steamer, there were sweet potatoes and pumpkins. Once cooked, the younger ones each got a bowl to eat on the side.
Grandma efficiently washed the sieve, added cold water, covered it, and set the fire to low. The stuffed buns and steamed buns needed time to rise before steaming, so they would be softer. After all, it was coarse flour; it couldn’t be as smooth and tasty as white flour.
They packaged one batch, kneaded more dough while waiting for the second batch. As soon as the pot was boiling, the first batch started steaming, and the second was ready to go. This cycle repeated, perfectly timed.
By the time they steamed the second batch, the tofu production in the backyard yielded about one hundred thirty jin. The three brothers and their wives divided the work; the brothers delivered to other villages and towns, while the wives delivered to villagers. Even though the freshly made tofu was still warm, in the sub-zero weather, it would be cool by the time it reached the destination.
The first batch of steamed buns had already fed them, filling their stomachs, so they wouldn’t feel as exhausted going out to work.
The elderly and children at home ate the second batch, serving as their Noon meal.
After eating, she and the Old Lady continued their work, while Grandpa led the younger ones in the backyard to continue making soy milk.
They still ground beans by hand. She had previously suggested buying a small donkey, but Grandpa refused, saying it would be too conspicuous. A little extra effort was worth it if it meant keeping a low profile about their earnings.
After all, there were plenty who couldn’t stand to see you do well, and sometimes even siblings could be envious of one another. Keeping things low-key was essential.
Even if it meant extra labor, there was no regret.
Since their tofu production ran until New Year’s Eve, the household’s New Year’s food preparation was entirely up to her and Grandma.
The parents, after selling tofu, wanted to help out, but were sent inside by Grandma and Grandpa to rest and sleep.
They had been getting up before dawn, working tirelessly until well past noon, and doing another round in the late afternoon, so they couldn’t bear to burden the brothers with more household concerns.
Ye Huan saw the household’s busyness and suddenly regretted returning too late.
Buns and steamed buns were continually steamed until about four or five in the late afternoon before they were finally done. The steamed ones were spread out to cool on long cloths in the hall before being placed in bamboo baskets. A red dot was added to each bun with red ink, signifying joy and good fortune.
Then, she had time to clean the pig offal she had brought back. Whatever could be braised was braised, while the rest was stored in a room without Firewood for later use.
