The entire table was taken up by the old Guan family. At first, they wanted to take two tables, but the respected elders in the village scolded them for being presumptuous, and only then did they behave. If there was space to sit, they sat; if not, they stood nearby to eat.
Naturally, the children didn’t sit at the table. Each of them got a steamed bun and an egg. If they didn’t want to eat it right away, they could take it home for their siblings or parents.
All in all, Guan Xiyue’s beam-raising ceremony went off beautifully and received universal praise. Anyone who complimented her on her skill would not be wrong. Everyone secretly speculated just how much compensation silver the Zhou family had given her—seeing her generous demeanor, the Zhou family really seemed to be a fair and upright household.
Little did they know, Guan Xiyue herself was quietly sighing. Life in ancient times was truly lacking in resources. Most rural families were very poor. When she first transmigrated to the Zhou family as a concubine, she hadn’t even eaten white rice—only coarse rice and cornmeal buns.
So, she took the beam-raising ceremony as an opportunity to do a good deed each day, maybe also to build a good reputation. In ancient times, a good reputation could open many doors. The feast, which wouldn’t even compare to modern standards, managed to win the hearts of the entire village here.
Of course, this didn’t include the old Guan family—they were eating heartily while wincing at the expense.
After the feast, everyone energetically finished laying the roof tiles. They worked fast, completing it in half an afternoon. The dinner that night wasn’t as lavish as lunch, but the meat dishes and white buns were still satisfying for everyone.
After the excitement died down, the neighboring women voluntarily helped clean up, sparing Guan Xiyue any extra effort. By nighttime, she and Chunliu finally tidied up the new house. Unlike modern construction, there was no need for extra finishing or ventilation.
Once the beam was raised and the roof tiled, the house could be lived in. Only the furniture wasn’t ready yet, and many items still needed to be added, so the two of them stayed at Sister Liu’s house for the time being.
Lying in bed that night, Guan Xiyue pressed her fingers to her temples and checked the silver in her space. Only a meager six taels remained. Fortunately, the furniture had already been paid for—she just had to wait for the wardrobe and bed to be made, then she could move into the new house. Earning money had become an urgent matter. Should she sell prescriptions again, or try something else?
She had to admit, her greatest skill in transmigrating to the past was the culinary knowledge she’d learned in the modern era. If not selling prescriptions, she could try running her own business. Although her capital was limited, it was enough for a small venture.
Guan Xiyue had bought many snacks from street vendors before. The snacks of this era were simple and honest but lacked refinement, and the flavors were coarse.
Of course, she knew she was targeting the lower-end market for now. If she went to the prefectural city or even the capital in the future, she could see the most exquisite snacks of the era. While modern technology and techniques were far ahead, she did not underestimate ancient people.
With six taels of silver, why not start a breakfast business? She acted immediately, taking Chunliu to the market. Arriving early, they secured a good spot, lit the stove, and set up the oil pot. The prepared dough was portioned into balls, filled with sugar or red bean paste. Once the oil reached medium heat, the dough balls were carefully placed in. The fragrant aroma wafted through the market, drawing the attention of early shoppers, who suddenly found their dry cornbread less appetizing.
The fried cakes turned golden and plump, and gradually, people began asking the price. Chunliu’s clear voice announced: “Sugar fried cake, two wen each; red bean fried cake, three wen each.”
People thought it expensive—three wen could buy a large meat bun, two wen a plain bun. Guan Xiyue patiently explained, “Neighbors, these fried cakes are definitely worth it. One is large enough to satisfy you. The red bean filling is special, different from ordinary paste. They’re rich in oil, taste great, and keep you full.”
Some people bought them—three wen, so be it. Curious to compare with meat buns, they tried one. Once in their mouth, they felt it was worth it.
Meat buns could be eaten anytime, but these red bean fried cakes were new. The filling was abundant, soft, and delicious, with moderate sweetness and a delicate, chewy texture.
The golden outer layer was chewy yet crisp. Together, it was crispy outside, tender inside, and incredibly tasty. Most remarkable was the red bean filling—it was unlike anything they had tasted before. Not overly sweet, but exquisitely delicate, one could eat several without feeling sick.
One man ate while saying, “Give me five more to take home for my family.”
Chunliu efficiently wrapped them in lotus leaves and collected the coins.
Seeing this, others were eager to try. Guan Xiyue and Chunliu busily worked, and by noon they had sold nearly one tael of silver. The oil had been changed several times. An elderly vegetable vendor nearby was touched to see them discard the used oil.
In the end, Guan Xiyue let the old woman take some to use at home. The old woman was delighted—why couldn’t used frying oil be used? This young girl was simply too meticulous and extravagant.
Just as they were about to pack up, a figure rushed over, shouting, “How dare you, you wretched woman! Still setting up a stall here? Get out of the way, have some shame…”
It was Zhou Zhengye again. He now looked pale and worn, his eye sockets slightly sunken. Life clearly hadn’t been easy. Business had been taken from him by Tai’an Lou, his father berated him for driving away a cash cow, and his wife constantly treated him coldly.
Guan Xiyue scooped a ladle of hot oil, half-smiling, and said, “Do you believe if I raise my hand, it will all spill on your face?”
Zhou Zhengye immediately fell silent, unwilling to test her patience. One splash could ruin his face. He and his servant fled, shouting behind them, “Don’t buy anything from this woman! She’s a harbinger of disaster, officially declared by the White Cloud Taoist. She’s the concubine I abandoned and sold!”
At that time, belief in gods, Buddha, and Taoist priests was strong. The crowd stared at Guan Xiyue in astonishment and moved away. Even the neighboring vegetable vendor refused the oil.
Chunliu wanted to go beat him up, but Guan Xiyue shook her head, cleared her throat, and loudly explained, “I was indeed the concubine sold by the Zhou family. But this man was near death—he couldn’t even be fed medicine. When I married into their family, I revived him as part of a ritual. You can even ask the White Cloud Taoist—he personally selected my birth chart. After reviving this ungrateful man, my value in their eyes vanished, and that’s why they sold me.”