Liao Jinfeng and Madam Wang, mother and daughter-in-law, had stormed over with full force, working themselves to exhaustion all afternoon doing dirty labor—and for what?
Not a single copper coin to show for it, and their anger was only compounded. They left in a huff.
The story quickly spread throughout the village, becoming a favorite topic of gossip and laughter at mealtimes.
“Serves them right! Trying to take advantage of little Zhiwei, after all they did to her before—shame on them!”
“Exactly! Their faces are thicker than pig intestines!”
“But honestly, Zhiwei’s braised meat business is booming. Paying thirty wen a day just to have someone wash the offal—that’s quite generous!”
Chen Zhiwei paid little attention to the villagers’ chatter. She understood well: the people in the old Chen household were like rats in a gutter. Unless you stood somewhere high enough that they couldn’t reach, they would never be quiet.
After seeing off the ever-grateful Auntie Zhao, Chen Zhiwei looked at the remaining silver coins in her hand and began planning again.
The braised meat brought in roughly two taels of silver each day. That was fine for now, but over time, the villagers’ envy would grow. What could she make that would involve the townsfolk, yet still work in her favor?
She remembered the tofu and tofu sheets (qianzhang) she had successfully experimented with earlier. It was time to put this idea into action.
The next day, after delivering the braised meat and settling accounts, Chen Zhiwei didn’t head home immediately. She visited the town’s general store, carefully selecting a sturdy, shallow iron pan—perfect for making tofu sheets. She also bought a few pieces of fine white cotton cloth and several appropriately sized wooden frames to press tofu. Finally, she went to the grain shop and purchased a large bag of high-quality soybeans.
Back at home, she shut the door and got to work. Chen Zhiyi watched curiously as his sister soaked the soybeans in spiritual spring water, ground them into a slurry, filtered it, and cooked the soy milk—every step done meticulously.
When the boiling soy milk coagulated into silky curds under the touch of the seasoned braising liquid, Chen Zhiyi’s eyes widened in amazement.
“Sis! The soy milk turned into blocks!”
Chen Zhiwei smiled and scooped the curds into wooden frames lined with cloth, covering them with boards and pressing them with heavy stones.
After a few hours, when the cloth was removed, firm, pale-yellow tofu blocks had formed.
She carefully poured the remaining soy milk into the iron pan, spreading it thin to make tofu sheets.
That evening, the siblings’ dinner table was graced with a stir-fried vegetable dish made with the fresh tofu and spiritual spring water, alongside a bowl of rolled tofu sheets. The tofu blocks absorbed the broth, giving them a firm, chewy texture. The tofu sheets were silky and tender, with a rich, nutty soybean flavor.
“Sis! This tofu is delicious! Even better than meat!” Chen Zhiyi praised, barely lifting his head from the plate.
Chen Zhiwei tried it herself—indeed, it was excellent. The spiritual spring water had enhanced the tofu’s natural sweetness, giving it a texture far beyond what ordinary tofu could achieve in this era. With a little braising, it tasted even better. She felt confident—the tofu business was viable.
Just as Chen Zhiwei was ready to throw herself into her work, the old Chen household stirred up trouble again.
Following her usual routine, she delivered the braised meat to Baiwei Restaurant. But this time, Manager Wang and two assistants blocked her path, their expressions grim.
“Miss Chen… I’m sorry. We can’t accept this batch,” Wang said, lacking his usual enthusiasm.
Chen Zhiwei’s heart sank, but her face remained calm. “Manager Wang… why? Wasn’t yesterday’s batch fine?”
He sighed and lowered his voice. “Someone complained to the boss. They said your braised meat is made from illegally sourced pork… sick pigs! And that you used unclean ingredients to mask the taste. The boss has decided we cannot accept your meat until this is investigated.”
Chen Zhiwei scoffed inwardly. Unclean ingredients? The shopkeeper is trying to trick me into revealing my recipe!
“All the pork came directly from Li’s butcher shop. There are receipts. If you check, you’ll see. And now you want me to give you my secret formula?”
Manager Wang’s face flickered with awkwardness for a moment, then he recovered. “The boss is angry and won’t listen to anyone right now. Miss Chen, it’s best you take the meat back. Wait until things settle.”
“Fine. If you won’t buy my meat, I can still sell it myself. Just hope your boss doesn’t regret this decision later,” Chen Zhiwei said coolly, lifting her braised meat and leaving without lingering.
Soon, she set up a stall outside, offering free samples:
“Braised meat! Same recipe as Baiwei Restaurant! Taste before you buy!”
It didn’t take long before a middle-aged man in a steward’s uniform came over.
“Little girl, is this really the same braised meat as Baiwei Restaurant?”
“Try a piece yourself!” Chen Zhiwei held out the plate.
The man took a small slice, tasted it, and his eyes lit up. “It really is the same flavor! Baiwei Restaurant won’t sell it today, but I can buy it here. Five jin of pork belly and five jin of pork head meat, please.”
“Sure! Pork belly 25 wen per jin, pork head meat 20 wen. That comes to 200 wen after rounding.”
“Little girl, your math is fast, isn’t it?” The man was surprised at how effortlessly she calculated the total.
“I gave you a discount as my first customer,” she replied with a smile.
The man nodded. “Impressive. This braised meat is much cheaper than Baiwei Restaurant’s.”
Chen Zhiwei smiled. “Their restaurant is big, with waiters to serve you. The meat is mixed and ready to eat, so the price is naturally a bit higher.”
The man chuckled and left with the meat. Chen Zhiwei’s stall had officially opened. Most customers bought small amounts for themselves, saving her the trouble of selling directly through Baiwei Restaurant.
Manager Wang watched her thriving business with a sour look and hurried to report to the boss.
The boss was furious. “You said she was a timid girl who’d give me the recipe quickly!”
The man beside him, Chen Zhiwei’s second uncle Chen Dahe, stammered, “I… I didn’t know her courage had grown so much! Should we go to her stall now and make everyone believe she’s selling sick pork?”
The boss looked at Manager Wang, who quickly interjected, “Boss, just now Miss Chen defended Baiwei Restaurant. And I don’t think she’s the kind to compromise easily. Even if the recipe isn’t in our hands, this braised meat is unique to Baiwei Restaurant.”
After a moment of thought, the boss said, “Fine. Take her down and teach her a lesson—she’s not allowed in Baiwei Restaurant again. Manager Wang, once she finishes selling, bring her here. I’ll properly apologize to her.”
Finally, the last piece of meat was sold. Chen Zhiwei followed Manager Wang to Baiwei Restaurant. In truth, this turn of events wasn’t all bad—now she could use the braised meat to introduce the tofu sheets to the market. With the braised meat as a hook, people would naturally want to try the new product.