Liu Sanzhuang sighed helplessly. “Isn’t it all because of An’er? He insists on using these soybeans to make some kind of food. I told him beans cause bloating and don’t taste good, but he just had to try.”
As soon as Liu Erzhuang heard it was his nephew’s idea, he immediately strode forward without hesitation. Over the past months, he had come to realize that although his nephew was young, he was thoughtful and far more capable than other children in the village. And recently, the family’s improving fortunes had all been thanks to him. So whatever the boy wanted to do, Liu Erzhuang supported unconditionally.
Liu Sanzhuang stared, slightly stunned, as his second brother—who had just been questioning him—suddenly walked ahead. When he saw Sanzhuang lagging behind, Erzhuang urged impatiently, “Hurry up! Stop dawdling!”
Sanzhuang was speechless. Just a moment ago he was full of questions. The second he heard it was An’er’s idea, he rushed ahead faster than me. It seemed his son’s status in the family was higher than his own! How can a son outrank his father? he thought indignantly.
What he didn’t realize was that ever since Liu An was born, his place in the family had quietly been surpassed. Everyone else had accepted it—only Sanzhuang was still struggling to reclaim his dignity.
Meanwhile, Liu An was carefully recalling the steps for making tofu. In her previous life, while volunteering as a rural teacher, she had often visited a student’s home that produced tofu. She had helped tutor the child there and had learned the general process.
The first step was removing the skins from the soybeans.
“Father, uncle Erzhuang,” Liu An instructed, “please grind the beans with the stone mill until they’re crushed, then use a sieve to separate the skins from the broken pieces.”
Though puzzled, Sanzhuang noticed his brother complying without question and wisely decided not to ask further.
Liu An did this to make grinding soy milk easier later and to ensure the tofu would be tender and white, free from skins. Once the beans were crushed and sifted, she said, “Father, we need to soak them overnight. We’ll use them tomorrow morning.”
Seeing good beans crushed to bits and now left to soak overnight, Sanzhuang grew anxious. “An’er, what exactly are you making? If this fails, all these beans will be wasted. Just because life’s better now doesn’t mean we can stop valuing grain.”
“Trust me, Father,” Liu An said patiently. “Once we make this successfully, our family will have a steady income. And only we will know how to make it. The business will be even better than our spicy mixed dish.”
Both uncles’ eyes lit up. Ever since they began selling spicy mala mix, their days had steadily improved.
“Fine. I’ll trust you one more time,” Sanzhuang warned, gesturing playfully. “But if you waste food, even your grandparents won’t stop me from spanking you.”
Erzhuang couldn’t help scolding him. “That’s enough. An’er means well. Whether it succeeds or not, we elders should support him. Why all the nonsense?”
Liu An felt deeply moved. “Thank you, uncle.”
Erzhuang gave her a wide, reassuring smile that clearly said: Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.
Sanzhuang scratched his head sheepishly. As a father, his trust in his son really wasn’t as firm as his brothers’.
After dinner that night, the old matriarch noticed her grandson and sons bustling about.
“An’er, what are you doing outside with your uncles?”
“I’m working on a new recipe, Grandma. Please don’t ask yet—I want to surprise you,” Liu An said before running back to his room to read.
The old lady simply smiled and let him be.
The next morning, only Sanzhuang remained at home.
“You said you’d handle those soaked beans,” he said. “If I wasn’t waiting for you, I would’ve gone with your uncles to sell at the stall.”
Liu An nodded quickly. “Father, let me finish breakfast first. It’ll be quick.”
After eating, he pulled him to the stone mill. “Please grind the soaked beans into soy milk.”
This time, Sanzhuang asked no questions. After about half an hour, the beans had turned into thick soy milk.
Liu An ran inside. “Mother, please boil a big pot of water.”
Soon, boiling water was poured over the ground soybean mash to dilute it. After steeping briefly, Liu An instructed her father to strain out the soybean pulp.
“How do we filter this?” he asked, confused.
He brought out a fine cloth, set up a simple frame, and demonstrated how to pour the soy mixture into the cloth bag and squeeze out the pure soy milk into the pot. The remaining pulp could be saved—either eaten or fed to their mule.
Once fully strained, the soy milk was boiled again.
Then Liu An took out gypsum powder he had purchased earlier from the town pharmacy and mixed it with water.
When the soy milk reached a boil, he had it ladled into buckets. A large clay vat—prepared the day before—was sprinkled with gypsum water and swirled to coat the sides.
“Now pour the soy milk in together,” he instructed.
Her parents emptied both buckets at once. The lid was placed on top. After a minute or two, the liquid began to coagulate.
The thickened curds were then transferred into wooden tofu molds lined with fine cloth—boxes Liu An had asked his uncle Erzhuang to prepare.
Once filled, they covered the molds and pressed down gently to squeeze out excess water.
Though Xiao Chen felt a bit distressed about using the family cloth this way, her heart was full of anticipation.
Just then, Xiao Cuihua and Xiao Sun came into the kitchen, smiling.
“Third Sister-in-law, what has An’er invented this time?”
“We’re not sure yet,” Xiao Chen replied modestly. “This child is always experimenting. It’s our first time too—we don’t know if it’ll succeed.”
But despite her cautious words, hope flickered in her eyes.
“I can already smell the rich aroma of soybeans,” Xiao Cuihua said with a smile. “An’er will definitely make something delicious.”
Ever since her eldest daughter got married, she had grown even more affectionate toward Liu An. Any trace of past resentment had completely disappeared.
“If there’s anything left to do, your eldest sister-in-law and I can help,” Xiao Sun offered warmly.
“No need, Sisters-in-law. You’ve all been busy these past days. Go rest—we’re almost done,” Xiao Chen replied with a smile.
When the dripping from the tofu molds slowed to a trickle, Liu An instructed, “Father, put a stone on top of the lid.” Then he turned to her parents. “You two should rest as well. It’ll take about an hour for it to fully set.”
“Fine,” Liu Sanzhuang said, stretching his back. “Bossed around by this rascal all morning—no wonder I’m tired.”
Xiao Chen laughed and left with her sisters-in-law, chatting merrily. Sanzhuang went to chop firewood; in their household, whoever had time handled that chore.
Liu An carefully went over the tofu-making process in her mind once more. Seeing no problems, he returned to his room to practice calligraphy.
About an hour later, he headed to the kitchen.
“Mother, it should be ready,” he said.
Xiao Chen lifted the lid and peeled back the cloth. The three women gasped.
A whole block of tofu sat inside—white, tender, and smooth.
“Son, what is this? It’s so beautifully white and delicate!” Xiao Chen exclaimed.
“It’s called tofu,” Liu An said with a smile.
“My heavens, An’er, you’re incredible!” Xiao Cuihua stared at him, her expression no longer just that of an elder indulging a child—it was something closer to awe. It might seem absurd for an adult woman in her twenties to admire a five-year-old so openly, but this nephew of hers was truly extraordinary.
“We were right to let An’er study,” Xiao Sun said excitedly. “How do we eat this tofu?”
“Mother, flip the mold over first.”
By now, Xiao Chen followed her son’s instructions without hesitation. She inverted the mold. Because the bottom board had a shallow groove, once turned over, the tofu bore a slightly raised marking.
“Cut along the outline—about this big,” Liu An demonstrated with his hands.
Xiao Chen sliced it into neat, even squares. They looked beautiful.
“What’s all the commotion about? I could hear you from afar,” Old Madam Liu said as she entered the kitchen.
“Mother, look! An’er’s tofu is finished!” Xiao Chen said excitedly.
The old matriarch hadn’t expected her grandson to truly create a new food. Thrilled, she called out, “Old man! Sanzhuang! Come here!”
In the courtyard, the grandfather and son were tidying the mule shed. Hearing her shout, they rushed in, thinking something had gone wrong.
Before they could ask, the old lady pointed proudly at the white tofu. “Our An’er has made a new dish—he calls it tofu!”
Liu Sanzhuang stared in disbelief. His son had really done it. Overcome with excitement, he scooped Liu An up and lifted him high over his head, startling the child badly.
The old master quickly scolded, “Put him down! If you drop my grandson, you’ll answer to me!”
Seeing his son’s pale face, Sanzhuang chuckled sheepishly. “An’er’s a bit timid. He’ll need to toughen up.”
Afraid his father would be scolded further, Liu An quickly said, “Grandpa, let’s cook tofu for dinner tonight!”
“How exactly do you eat this tofu?” Old Madam Liu asked eagerly. She had been too busy admiring it earlier to think about that.
“Oh, Grandma, there are many ways,” Liu An said, practically drooling as he spoke. “It can be eaten cold, fresh and light like a lotus emerging from water. It can be stewed, rich and smooth like jade nectar. It can be pan-fried until golden, like a glowing full moon. Or made into spicy tofu—fiery and bold, igniting the taste buds.”
Just describing it made him hungry. Though the family’s circumstances had improved and they occasionally ate meat now, their daily dishes were still limited. But now—they had something entirely new.
“Good! Tonight we’ll make them all!” the old matriarch declared.
As soon as she finished speaking, the three sisters-in-law began preparing the dishes for dinner. The eldest sister-in-law even pulled Liu An aside to ask carefully about each recipe. Once she understood, she shooed him off to play while the three women enthusiastically discussed the cooking.
“Mother, you really spoiled him. Ever since you got a grandson, you’ve forgotten your sons,” Liu Sanzhuang complained playfully.
“If you were half as clever as my grandson, I’d spoil you too,” the old matriarch snapped. “A grown man competing with a child for attention—have you no shame?”
Night fell.
When Liu Dazhuang and Liu Erzhuang returned home, the dinner table was filled with an array of dishes.
Erzhuang grinned knowingly. “An’er, are these your new creations? Just smelling they makes my mouth water.”
“Hurry up and wash your hands. Everyone’s waiting,” the old matriarch urged.
The rest of the family could hardly contain themselves. The two men quickly washed up and sat down.
The old master picked up a piece of braised tofu and placed it into his wife’s bowl before taking one for himself.
The moment he tasted it, his eyes lit up.
“This braised tofu is delicious beyond words,” he declared excitedly. “It’s even fresher than meat!”