The two sets of pig offal were sold out before noon, except for the single bowl that had been set aside.
The sound of copper coins jingling filled the money pouch, and the Yan family was all smiles.
Just as they were preparing to pack up, a woman came running, out of breath. “Boss, do you still have any left?”
Lu Qingran shook her head. “No, come back tomorrow!”
The woman sighed, muttering, “Ah, if only I had bought more… Young Master is going to fuss now.”
Her clothing looked fine, made of quality cotton, much better than what the Yans wore. Seeing that she had bought from them before, Lu Qingran asked, “Madam, you are…?”
The woman replied, “To be honest, I’m the stewardess in the Shen household kitchen. I bought some of your food this morning. The master and the young masters really liked it, but it was gone before they could even eat it. Young Master was crying for more, so I hurried over.”
Lu Qingran thought for a moment, then offered the bowl she had kept aside. “This was originally for our own family, but since you’re in a hurry, I’ll sell it to you first.”
The woman thanked her profusely. Seeing the generous bowl, she immediately handed over 10 wen, and asked Lu Qingran to reserve some for her tomorrow.
That single bowl had originally been meant for the Futian Restaurant, both to thank the manager for taking care of them over the past two weeks and to see if a business collaboration could be established.
“Qingran, should we still go to Futian Restaurant?” Yan Zihao asked after the woman left.
“No, we’ll go tomorrow. It’s already noon, let’s see what to eat. Father, Mother, and little Wu rarely come to town, so we can stroll a bit this afternoon before heading back.”
“Alright!”
“Yay, shopping time!” The two little ones cheered upon hearing this.
Near the market entrance, a stall was selling small wontons. Perhaps never having seen them before, Yan Silang and Yan Zimeng were very curious. Seeing them so eager, Lu Qingran decided that this would be lunch.
Each had a bowl of wontons, along with a few steamed buns and vegetarian buns, and the whole family enjoyed the meal.
Ancient wontons and buns had thick skins and sparse fillings, and steamed buns weren’t as soft as today’s versions. Lu Qingran’s space contained plenty of better-quality buns, but she could only keep them there as decoration; she had no reason to take them out except to sneak a few for herself. She thought she might eventually confess this to Yan Zihao, so he could cover for her, which would make things easier—but that was for later.
Through selling chicken mushrooms and bamboo shoots, the Yan family had earned roughly forty taels of silver. With money, they improved not just their meals but also their clothing. Apart from the clothes Lu Qingran wore, made half a month ago, everyone else’s garments had faded from repeated washing. Today’s shopping trip was mainly to buy cloth for new clothes.
After lunch, the family headed straight for the fabric shop. Coarse cotton was 195 wen per bolt, fine cotton 290 wen per bolt. The eight members of the Yan household ultimately bought three bolts of coarse cotton and two of fine cotton: coarse cotton in blue, gray-blue, and gray; fine cotton in pink and blue—a total of 1,165 wen.
Mother Yan said, “Shopkeeper, we’re buying so much at once. Can you give us a discount?”
The shopkeeper smiled broadly at the large purchase and happily agreed.
“Alright. You’re buying a lot, so 1,150 wen will do for all of it.”
Mother Yan requested, “Then please throw in some fabric scraps too!”
Most women buying cloth did this, and the shopkeeper didn’t refuse. He instructed an assistant to bring over a bag of fabric scraps.
After over an hour of shopping, Yan Silang and Yan Zimeng were already drowsy. They loaded the preordered pig offal into the cart and headed home, the twins now asleep in their parents’ arms.
Near the town gate, Wang Daye, the cart driver, rested against his ox cart. He had just returned from lunch.
“Grandpa Wang, are we heading back now?” Yan Ziyi asked, hurrying forward.
“Yes, Second Son. I thought you all had gone back already!” Wang Daye opened his eyes, smiling at the Yan family.
“No, Grandpa Wang. We still need the cart,” Yan Ziyi replied.
“No need. I’m idle anyway. Count the two little ones as one, 7 wen, and get on board!”
Seeing this, the family said nothing more.
Lu Qingran had also woken early and was now sleepy. Not long after the cart departed, she leaned on Yan Zihao’s shoulder and fell asleep.
It was just after mid-afternoon, the sun strong. Yan Zihao gently shifted to shield her from the sunlight with his body.
The cart jolted along, and they soon arrived at Lu Qingran’s home. With only their family on the cart, the twins, Lu Qingran, and Yan Ziyue all slept, and Grandpa Wang directly dropped them at the front gate.
“Qingran, wake up, we’re home,” Yan Zihao softly called as the cart stopped.
Rubbing her eyes, Lu Qingran murmured sleepily, “We’re here… that was pretty fast.”
Her drowsy, cute appearance made Yan Zihao’s heart skip a beat. Over these days, his feelings for Lu Qingran had grown stronger, and so had his desire to be close to her.
After paying and seeing Grandpa Wang off, Yan Zihao turned to go inside.
In the courtyard, Mother Yan took Yan Zimeng back to his room for a nap. Coming out, she ran into Lu Qingran, still half-asleep.
“Qingran, go back to your room and rest! Father and I will clean the pig offal,” she said.
“Alright, thank you, Father and Mother!” Lu Qingran mumbled drowsily and headed to her room. She was exhausted. Last night she had stayed up late to sneak the pig offal out without being noticed, and she had gotten up very early this morning. She could barely keep going.
She slept for another half-hour. When she woke, a money pouch was placed by her bed, and Yan Zihao sat beside it.
“Hubby, what’s this pouch?”
“Awake? That’s the money from selling pig offal this morning. Mother said she already has several dozen taels on her side—enough for the household expenses. From now on, we can keep the money we earn ourselves.”
Lu Qingran didn’t refuse. She emptied the pouch to count the copper coins—900 wen in total—put them back, and, while Yan Zihao wasn’t looking, stored them in her space.
Time flew. By June, sunlight bathed the land, and the heat was oppressive, as if everything would be baked dry. The air was thick with warm waves; even the wind felt hot. Apart from early mornings and evenings, villagers rarely walked around, and the elderly who liked sitting under the village’s big tree stayed indoors.
During this period, the Yan family’s pig offal business thrived. The daily volume had increased from two sets initially to five sets now—three sold directly by the Yan family, two sent to Futian Restaurant. After nearly a month, they had earned around sixty taels of silver, and their life had steadily improved.