Chapter 39: Steamed Buns Are Ready

Yan Lao’er deliberately brought a few eggs with him in case the old lady changed her mind about the trade—he could use them to exchange for bowls from the villagers, essentially stockpiling in advance.

“Oh dear, young man, being this honest won’t do! If you do business like this, you’ll lose everything!”

The old lady poured water into the newly acquired bowl and handed it to him.

“Drink up, young man, quench your thirst.”

Yan Lao’er hesitated. “Granny…”

“Just drink, don’t worry about it. One sip from you won’t make a difference.”

When Yan Lao’er was about to leave, the old lady insisted on returning one of the eggs, keeping only one for herself. She even walked him all the way to the village entrance, waving him off until he disappeared from sight.

—

When Yan Lao’er returned to the village, he was met with eager eyes.

Everyone wanted to know—had their goods been traded? And what did they get in return?

The villagers gathered around as Yan Lao’er laid out what he had brought back.

Those who saw their items returned felt a bit disappointed—why hadn’t their things been chosen?

Those whose goods had been traded were overjoyed.

One of the lucky ones was Sister Cui. Her bowl was newly bought, even though it was coarse porcelain, it had a few floral patterns painted on it. Sure enough, someone took a liking to it! In return, she received a big bunch of fresh vegetables, and she couldn’t stop grinning.

Her eyes sparkled with joy as she showed off her bounty to everyone, bragging about how good she was at picking items, how lucky she was, and praising Yan Lao’er:

“I always knew Yan Lao’er was capable! He’s seen the world outside, he’s different from us! Did you know? He even knows how to trim livestock hooves! Blah blah blah…”

Another happy recipient was the Hu family’s youngest daughter. The insoles she had stitched were picked, and in exchange, she got two eggs. The little girl happily ran home to show her parents.

“This was our first attempt, so we didn’t know what people wanted. But being able to trade even a little is great. When we come across another village, everyone will get a chance.” Yan Lao’er reassured everyone.

As the crowd dispersed, people couldn’t help but continue discussing the event while they traveled that afternoon.

Sanbao led the way along the new route he had planned.

Yan Lao’er continued to drive the cart—there was no way he could tell his big brother, “You don’t actually need me to navigate, as long as you have the ox, it’s fine.”

The small paths weren’t as smooth as official roads, but with everyone taking turns walking, they didn’t feel too tired.

Occasionally, they encountered people who would ask, “Where are you all headed? What are you doing?”

The villagers answered honestly, “We can’t survive anymore. We’re fleeing from famine.”

The reactions were as if they had seen ghosts.

They stared at the loaded ox carts, mule carts, donkey carts, and handcarts, all stacked high with sacks—those were obviously food supplies! How was this considered fleeing from famine?

But when the villagers explained that their village’s well had completely dried up, the strangers understood.

Some hurried back to their own villages to warn others, while those who were slower to react still quickened their pace toward home.

“Uncle, is it okay for us to say all this?” Yan Xiangheng asked quietly.

“What’s wrong with it?” Yan Lao’er saw his nephew crawling closer and motioned for them to switch places.

Time for some hands-on training—real learning comes from experience.

“If they see us leaving, won’t they also want to leave?” Yan Xiangheng wasn’t familiar with the concept of herd mentality, but he could imagine what he himself would do in their place.

“It’s fine. They won’t catch up to us.” Yan Lao’er was confident. Their secret was Sanbao’s carefully planned shortcut—it would ensure they stayed ahead of the crowd.

“Uncle, that’s not what I meant,” Yan Xiangheng said seriously as he took the reins and sat upright, carefully practicing how to drive. “I mean, they originally didn’t want to leave, but after seeing us, they started thinking about it…”

Yan Lao’er sighed.

Why does my nephew always ask me?

I’m illiterate!

Why don’t you ask your dad?!

“You mean we’re leading them on? Let me ask you this—if the weather was normal and we said we were fleeing, what would they think? They’d think our entire village had gone crazy.”

“Another thing—if we weren’t here, would they really stay? What’s forcing people to leave isn’t us; it’s the disaster itself.”

Yan Yu, listening closely, mentally added: And also the officials who keep collecting taxes like nothing is happening.

A drought this severe—shouldn’t the local government have reported it and requested tax exemptions?

As local officials, their people were on the brink of dying from thirst and starvation—what had they done about it?

She glanced at her eldest uncle, hoping that when he eventually gained power, he would take care of these useless officials and make life easier for common folk.

Yan Huaiwen noticed her gaze.

“How far have you memorized?”

Yan Yu: Busted.

“Uh… all of it!” She had to choose between pretending to be clueless and ending this quickly—she chose the latter.

“Recite it, then,” Yan Huaiwen instructed.

Yan Lao’er overheard his daughter stumbling through her recitation and felt a sense of dread.

Thank goodness Big Yan’s target wasn’t him!

A sense of urgency hit him—he really needed to start learning how to read and write. If his older brother ever asked him to write something, how would he dodge it? Claim his hands weren’t working?

That evening, they stopped and set up camp. Yan Lao’er demonstrated his well-practiced skill of steaming mantou (steamed buns).

Each dough portion was measured with precision, as if he had used a ruler.

One pound of flour made exactly seven mantou—not one more, not one less.

As they waited for the buns to steam, Sister Cui cheerfully brought over a bowl of vegetable soup.

There weren’t many greens, and there wasn’t much soup.

But at this time, who would complain? Fresh vegetables were the most valuable dish one could have.

Sister Cui smiled and said, “Brother Yan, take this as a little extra. You ran around all noon—it must’ve been exhausting. In the future, we’ll have to trouble you a lot. Let me thank you in advance.”

Yan Lao’er didn’t refuse—he wasn’t about to make a fuss over politeness, especially since Sister Cui was a woman and he was a man—it wouldn’t be appropriate.

Just as the mantou finished steaming, hot and round, their fragrant aroma made everyone gulp in anticipation.

Yan Lao’er poured the vegetable soup into his own bowl, then took one of the fresh mantou and placed it in Sister Cui’s empty bowl.

With a grin, he said, “Sister Cui, take this home and see if my cooking is any good.”

Since she had given him vegetables so generously, if she hesitated and refused now, it would look awkward.

So, Sister Cui happily accepted the mantou and took it home.

Doctor Cui, seeing his wife return with food, frowned.

“We gave food to thank him for his help—why did you take something back?”

“If I refused in front of everyone, wouldn’t that make things awkward? Besides, my brother Yan is an honest man—he’s not trying to take advantage of anyone. By giving me this mantou in return, he showed everyone that he’s not what rumors say. He and his scholar brother are both good people.”

Sister Cui believed she had done the right thing. Close neighbors should help each other, but it had to be reciprocal.

Look at her brother Yan—he understood this perfectly. He accepted her vegetables openly and gave back a mantou just as openly. That’s what made people feel warm inside.