10 Sales are quite good.

As dawn approached, the city gate bustled with activity. The clamor of vendors calling out their wares rose and fell like waves, while the scent of food wafted on the morning breeze, stirring the stomachs of those yet to break their fast.

Early risers from distant villages often came without having eaten, choosing instead to buy food at the city gate. Around the snack stalls, crowds gathered. Qin Jin was just about to lift a plate and call out when two customers approached his stand.

“Young man, wrap me two pieces of pea cake,” one said.

Qin Jin looked up, recognizing the speaker instantly. It was the young gentleman who, on Qin’s first day selling, had purchased two pieces of pea cake in one go. At that moment, he was holding the hand of a small child, about five or six years old, while pulling coins from his pocket with the other hand.

“All right, please wait a moment,” Qin Jin replied, quickly wrapping two pieces in corn husks and slipping in a few small samples for tasting.

The young man smiled upon seeing this.

As he bent down to place the coins into Qin Jin’s basket, his eyes caught sight of the sheets of tofu next to the earthen basin, and curiosity flickered across his face.

He couldn’t quite tell what those sheets were.

“They’re made from soybeans. Because they come in thin sheets, I call them ‘thousand sheets.’ They can be eaten cold, stir-fried, or stewed. Would you like to try some?” Qin Jin explained as he handed over the pea cakes.

“Sure, let me have some,” the young man nodded immediately.

Qin Jin cut a piece with a wooden knife and passed it over. The young man tasted it thoughtfully. It had little flavor but a certain chewiness. Not particularly delicious, but fresh and good enough to accompany drinks.

“How much do you sell this for?” he inquired.

“One wen per sheet, six sheets make a pound,” Qin Jin quoted the price.

Glancing at the basin, the young man said, “Wrap them all up for me.”

He was heading back to his maternal home today and planned to bring these back to his husband’s family if his own didn’t like them. It was his first encounter with such food, and he was curious.

Qin Jin hadn’t expected the young man to buy them all, feeling both surprised and pleased. He had worried the price might be too high to sell.

Carefully wrapping the thirteen sheets in corn husks, Qin Jin handed them over. Then, cutting a small piece of pea cake, he offered it to the little child. The child looked up at his uncle but did not take it.

The young man smiled, patting the child’s head. “Take it, thank you, uncle.”

“Thank you, uncle,” the child said softly before reaching out to take the cake.

“How well-behaved,” Qin Jin chuckled.

The young man smiled back and walked off, hand in hand with the child.

With such a promising start, sales went smoothly that day, and by noon Qin Jin had sold out. After packing up, he didn’t rush home but bought two pounds of fried dough sticks.

At home, he shared half with the old courtyard. Wang Xiuqin, seeing the fried dough, felt comforted. Being married made a difference; before, her fourth son cared only for himself, forgetting the family.

“But if you want fried dough, you could just fry it yourself. You know how — why waste money?” she said.

Qin Jin laughed and explained, “With this new food, the thousand sheets, I’m happy. If I can’t afford meat to celebrate, surely I can afford fried dough.”

Wang Xiuqin smiled, thinking the thousand sheets sent by Miao Ge’er that morning did taste good.

“Work hard, and there’ll be meat in the future,” she advised.

Qin Jin nodded. Indeed, he would have to work harder these coming months to earn the freedom to eat meat.

Hmm... he might as well make more fermented tofu like the thousand sheets—no big money, but small gains add up.

It sold well and required no cooking.

In his previous life, to revitalize the family bookstore, he had created accounts on various platforms and watched many videos. The methods for making these foods had lodged in his mind.

He was fond of cooking and quite skilled.

Pea cake and thousand sheets were simple enough for him to attempt boldly, even without prior experience, but fermented tofu was more complex, needing many steps and seasonings; he could not rush it.

***

After lunch, carrying seventy copper coins, Qin Jin visited Zhang’s tofu shop.

Sixty coins were for purchasing tofu pudding for the next day; the rest was for tofu.

Zhang Qi was both pleased and worried to see Qin Jin return so soon with such a large order. What new food could require so much tofu pudding?

Could Qin Jin actually be making tofu from tofu pudding?

Zhang Qi was shy, feeling almost clawed by a kitten, and didn’t ask a word.

His husband, Shen Yucheng, however, was straightforward and blunt: “Qin Jin, what new food are you making? Is it good? If it tastes nice, you have to save some for our family.”

“I’m making thousand sheets. The taste is okay. I’ll bring you some to try tomorrow,” Qin Jin replied with a smile, unaware of the couple’s thoughts. “Zhang, if I buy more tofu pudding and tofu in the future, will you give me a discount?”

“Of course,” Zhang Qi nodded promptly.

Usually, prices dropped when customers bought in bulk. For example, when the Qin family held their wedding banquet a few days ago, they bought two blocks of tofu from him at a slightly lower price.

“I’ll give you an extra two pounds of tofu pudding tomorrow,” Zhang Qi added.

“That’s great. Then I’ll bring some thousand sheets over tomorrow,” Qin Jin’s smile deepened. He preferred dealing with straightforward people.

After finishing business, Qin Jin took five pounds of tofu home.

Once he left, the couple began pondering what exactly thousand sheets were.

At home, Qin Jin divided the five pounds of tofu into two portions: three pounds and two pounds.

He planned to use the two pounds to make stinky tofu.

The stinky tofu he intended was not the black variety commonly known. This kind required no seasoning, just one step:

Place it in a bowl.

After ten to fifteen days, the tofu’s surface would become sticky and start to emit a strong, pungent yet fragrant odor, signaling it was ready to eat.

This method was common and present in his memories. The family now ate wild vegetable cakes daily, and he wanted a change.

As for fermented tofu, he had to be cautious.

Without the fermentation starter powder, he had to rely on natural fermentation, cutting the tofu into small pieces and placing them in a bamboo basket to ferment.

This process would take several days. He planned to buy some spices in a couple of days to try seasoning.

During this time, Ye Miao watched closely, eager to remember the steps.

But today’s process was so simple even a child could learn it!

Qin Jin had done so much for this family; he might as well pick up embroidery again. He couldn’t bear the debts alone.

That afternoon, after working the fields with his father, he fetched his old embroidery basket from the next yard.

After a few days without stitching, picking it up again brought a small joy. He stitched with focus and care.

Unconsciously, the afternoon passed. He looked at the handkerchief in his hands with satisfaction—it was embroidered faster than before. At this rate, he could finish four handkerchiefs a day.

After putting away the basket, he went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

The lard container was nearly empty, so he didn’t plan to stir-fry. His father had picked some tender wild greens while gathering firewood that morning, so he intended to steam them.

He washed the greens, mixed them with cornmeal, and steamed the mixture once the water boiled. Wild vegetables cook quickly, so a brief steam sufficed. Afterward, he tossed in garlic juice, sesame oil, and salt. The dish was ready.

It served as both vegetable and staple.

But it was too plain... Standing by the stove, he hung his head in frustration.

The day after the wedding, Qin Jin had fed him some intoxicating wine, and he had truly abandoned embroidery. If he had kept at it these past days, he could have earned enough to buy at least three pounds of pork.

He had been too complacent lately!

Tomorrow, he must be diligent again.

***

The night passed quietly. At dawn, Ye Miao rose punctually to make pea cakes. At the first watch, he woke Qin Jin, saying they would need to carry sixty pounds of tofu pudding in two buckets to Zhang’s.

Qin Jin smiled wryly and shook his head, saying sixty pounds was nothing. He grabbed the two buckets and hurried out.

After fetching the tofu pudding, he and Ye Miao divided tasks to quickly prepare the thousand sheets, lest they delay setting up the stall.

Zhang Qi had given two extra pounds of tofu pudding, which they kept for their own use. The remaining sixty pounds yielded thirteen pounds of thousand sheets.

They kept three pounds: one for Zhang Qi, and two for the Qin family members, Qin Wen and Qin Li.

After finishing, Qin Jin set off to the city gate to open his stall.

The young gentleman from before did not appear today, so Qin Jin cut the thousand sheets into small pieces and offered them alongside the pea cakes for passersby to sample.

Pea cakes were snacks costing one wen per small piece, eaten in just two bites.

Thousand sheets were different: one wen bought a palm-sized sheet, which, sliced and mixed with cucumber, made a dish.

He never mentioned the actual price of six wen per pound, only praising the addition of a new dish for one wen.

This pricing strategy worked well.

If he had told people the thousand sheets were made from soybeans and cost six wen per pound, few besides the young gentleman would have paid.

After all, one pound of tofu was only two wen.

But selling it sheet by sheet, each about the size of a palm, made it seem cheap.

Most passersby were rural folk who hesitated to spend one wen on snacks but were willing to spend it to add a new dish to their meals.

Besides, the dish was palatable even without seasoning.

As a result, of every ten people who tried it, three bought thousand sheets.

This greatly exceeded Qin Jin’s expectations. Compared to the purchase rate of pea cakes, thousand sheets were far more popular.

Sixty sheets sold out by early morning—much faster than the pea cakes.

Moreover, the thousand sheets drew crowds, slightly boosting the sales of pea cakes as well: human nature craves bustle, and seeing a crowd, others came to look.

After looking and tasting, some bought as well.

This outcome surprised Qin Jin, who had worried just yesterday about selling by weight.

Experience was lacking, indeed.

He closed shop at the same time as the day before. Feeling the weight of the copper coins in his hand, he went into town to buy ingredients.

But aside from ingredients, he bought nothing else.

Zhang Qi and his husband could not be fooled by the thousand sheets.

At home, after eating, Qin Jin took a pound of thousand sheets and 120 copper coins to Zhang Qi’s.

Leaving the thousand sheets, he inquired whether anyone in nearby villages grew peas, as the market peas were expensive, and he hoped to buy from the countryside.

Zhang Qi hadn’t noticed before, but now that Qin Jin asked, he promised to keep an eye out.

After seeing Qin Jin off, he eagerly entered the kitchen.

There, Shen Yucheng held a sheet of thousand sheets, examining it.

When Qin Jin entered, he shook the sheet and said, “This is clearly thin tofu.”

Tofu was made by pressing tofu pudding.

These thousand sheets must have been made by the same method.