Chapter 13: Prosperity

“Filtering pearls and grinding snow, the wet mist falls in fine sprays. Refined into nectar, it rises in a plain white robe. Emerging from the box, why fear the square jade might shatter? In the soup, one often sees white clouds drifting by. On vegetable platters, it is often mixed like sheep’s cheese. Ivory chopsticks struggle to lift it, for it is richer than marrow. One laughs at those in Beiping¹ longing for milk, when the frosty blade cuts through the powdery pastry as they return.”

Zhao Mengcheng recited the lines slowly.

The shopkeeper did not fully understand the meaning, but he felt the poem was exceptionally well-written. He followed up with a question, “Whose poem is this? Could it be that it’s actually about tofu? Oh, this is written so beautifully. Hearing it, one would think it’s the Jade Mother Empress²‘s nectar, something we mortals could never taste.”

“Shopkeeper, why not have this poem written out and hung by the entrance? When the time comes, customers will surely flock here like clouds,” Zhao Mengcheng suggested instead of answering.

“Furthermore, you could send out invitations to several famous scholars in Changhe Town to come and appreciate the poetry. One thing leads to another, and the reputation of your restaurant will spread.”

The shopkeeper looked him over in surprise. “This…”

How could he not have thought of such a brilliant idea? The shopkeeper slapped his forehead. Then again, even if he had thought of it, he wouldn’t have had such a fine poem at hand.

Zhao Mengcheng smiled. “Many restaurants have achieved eternal fame through a single poem. Shopkeeper, your restaurant can do the same.”

“Why not give it a try?” His voice was filled with endless temptation and encouragement.

That simple sentence made the shopkeeper’s blood boil. He struck the table and declared, “Fine, I’ll trust you this once.”

He asked again, “Oh, this poem is truly magnificent. Did you write it yourself?”

Zhao Mengcheng shook his head. “I do not have such literary talent. I merely happened upon it by chance. The poem and the tofu complement each other perfectly.”

“Isn’t that the truth? All that talk of nectar and sheep’s cheese, I could never have imagined it. Scholars certainly have many fancy tricks.”

The shopkeeper laughed heartily, then explained, “What I mean is that scholars are refined, unlike us coarse folk. I’m not saying anything bad about you.”

By his tone, he had already begun to treat Zhao Mengcheng as a proper scholar.

Zhao Mengcheng naturally didn’t mind, as his only goal was to sell tofu.

As the shopkeeper spoke, he had the waiter bring out snacks and dishes. He then pulled Zhao Mengcheng aside and said, “Let’s talk while we eat. Brother Zhao, since I’m already troubling you, and I see you’re a man of letters, why don’t you be the one to write this calligraphy?”

Zhao Mengcheng did not decline.

The original owner of this body had only studied for a few years. He could read and write, but his handwriting could only be described as a messy scrawl.

Zhao Mengcheng was different. In his previous life, when his Mental Power was excessive and he didn’t want to see anyone, he had used calligraphy to calm his mind. Consequently, he had developed excellent penmanship.

His writing was bold and sweeping, like dragons flying and phoenixes dancing³. After finishing, Zhao Mengcheng frowned slightly. He hadn’t written in too long and was out of practice. Furthermore, the original owner’s body was weak, making the characters look somewhat soft.

Zhao Mengcheng set down the brush, thinking that once the family’s finances improved, he would need to buy some ink and brushes to practice, lest he lose this skill entirely.

Little did he know that the piece he was dissatisfied with had already stunned the two people standing beside him.

The shopkeeper had originally just been testing him. He hadn’t expected that once the ink and brush were ready, Zhao Mengcheng would wield the brush without a word, completing the work in a single, fluid motion.

The watching shopkeeper and Wang Ming were both dazed, breaking into a chorus of praise.

“Brother, your writing is truly amazing.” Wang Ming instinctively reached out, wanting to touch it.

“Brother Zhao, you really are a hidden talent.” The shopkeeper slapped Wang Ming’s hand away with a smack, terrified he might soil the calligraphy.

He felt he had made a huge profit and couldn’t stop smiling. “Once it’s dry, I’ll find someone to frame it. I can’t just hang it at the door; I’m afraid someone might steal such fine writing.”

Zhao Mengcheng knew the deal was sealed when he saw that smile. “Shopkeeper, about the tofu…”

The shopkeeper gritted his teeth. “Give me a hundred pieces to start. If it sells well, I’ll take that amount every day.”

Inwardly, he wondered at Zhao Mengcheng’s eccentricity. To have such skill in calligraphy yet come out to sell tofu – did scholars have such strange hobbies?

Zhao Mengcheng smiled. “Done. I’ll have them delivered to you tomorrow morning.”

The two of them negotiated, and Zhao Mengcheng gave him a wholesale price of two wen per catty, which was slightly cheaper than his retail price.

The shopkeeper had initially thought about taking the entire stock, but even with a good poem and good calligraphy, it was still unknown if the tofu would sell well. He didn’t dare take too much.

Ordering a hundred pieces at once was already a gesture of respect toward that piece of calligraphy.

Zhao Mengcheng wasn’t in a hurry. He left the remaining tofu behind along with a set of recipes. “You can let your chef try these today. Since we want to sell to scholars, it must not only taste good but also look beautiful.”

The shopkeeper looked thoughtful.

Seeing that they were about to leave and noting that the table of food hadn’t been touched, the shopkeeper had the waiter pack it into food boxes for them to take away.

Thus, the two of them had pushed a cart full of tofu in, and when they left, the tofu had been replaced by two large food boxes.

Once they were out of the restaurant, Wang Ming said in astonishment, “This… it’s actually sold.”

“A hundred pieces a day, two wen each, that’s two hundred wen a day. In a month, that’s six thousand wen, which is six taels of silver. And that’s not even counting what we sell individually.”

He had never seen so much money before, and his head was spinning.

Zhao Mengcheng laughed. “If the business lasts, I’ll give you a raise later.”

With six taels of silver a month, even after costs, Zhao Mengcheng would be able to pay off all his external debts within a month.

Wang Ming hurriedly waved his hand in refusal. “No, Brother, that’s not what I meant.”

“I know you didn’t mean that, but now that we’re making an extra hundred catties of tofu a day, you’ll have to work much harder. A raise is only right.”

Zhao Mengcheng spoke with a smile, privately planning to hire two more people once the restaurant business stabilized. After all, he couldn’t just keep shearing Wang Ming like a lone sheep; grinding beans was truly exhausting work.

Under the large willow tree at the village entrance, the three Zhao siblings sat in a row, craning their necks to watch the road.

The village women working and chatting under the tree saw them and teased, “Dawa, is your dad making a fortune selling tofu?”

Zhao Chun thought of the table full of copper coins and remained silent.

Zhao Mao held back his sister who was about to speak, tilted his head, and said, “Auntie, my dad is just earning some hard-earned money. He’s working from dawn to dusk because he wants to pay back everyone he owes first.”

Auntie Wang was also there and followed up on his words. “His father is just too honest and is always being bullied. Everyone has hard times, and no one was rushing him to pay them back.”

“We aren’t in a hurry, but Zhao Laoda’s family certainly is. They’re going around saying his brother is buying meat while owing debts, using some very nasty language.”

Hearing this, the others immediately began to gossip. “If you ask me, Zhao Laoda is a real bully. How could he trick a child into selling off good farmland for a pittance?”

“Hasn’t he always been that way? Years ago, he kicked his brother out of the house and wouldn’t even give him a single coin.”

“Neither of those two are any good. They’re always looking for an advantage. Last time, she even picked cucumbers from my garden and refused to admit it when I asked.”

Someone else grabbed Zhao Chun and asked, “Dawa, did your two families really sever ties? Won’t you be sad not having an uncle anymore?”

Auntie Wang was displeased and pulled the person’s hand away. “Why are you making things hard for a child?”

“I was just asking. Why are you being so protective? If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was your own grandson.”

Auntie Wang replied loudly, “Dawa and his siblings are all sensible and well-behaved. I’d be happy to have a grandson like him.”

The women bickered back and forth. Zhao Chun leaned against his brother and said, “Why isn’t Dad back yet? He was back much earlier yesterday.”

“Something probably delayed him. Let’s wait a bit longer,” Zhao Mao comforted him.

Zhao Chun sighed. “I wish I could grow up instantly. Then I could go sell tofu with Dad.”

As they were speaking, they heard the sound of wheels rolling over stones.

“Dad!” Zhao Chun charged out like a cannonball and dove into Zhao Mengcheng’s arms.

Zhao Mengcheng caught his son. “You must have been waiting a long time.”

Zhao Chun shook his head and asked, “Dad must be tired. I’ve made food. We can eat at home and then you can rest.”

Enjoying his children’s filial piety⁴, Zhao Mengcheng greeted the people under the tree and led his family home.

Auntie Wang quickly gathered her vegetable basket and followed them.

Once she left, the remaining women had no more reservations and began to gossip fervently.

“Mengcheng is educated and capable. He even managed to figure out how to make tofu. He sent a piece to my house yesterday, and the taste was indeed excellent.”

“He sent some to my house too. My in-laws and the kids all loved it.”

“You know why she’s so protective? I heard Mengcheng is paying her son, Wang Ming, wages. It’s about the same as what they pay in town.” Someone pointed out Auntie Wang’s motive.

“Really? Can selling tofu make that much money? How can he afford to pay someone else?”

After discussing it, everyone felt that since it was something new and tasted good, he must be making a decent amount.

Someone muttered, “Why did he only send it to you? He didn’t send a piece to my house to taste.”

“You didn’t exactly lift a finger to help when his wife passed away,” someone immediately retorted.

The person curled her lip and pointed toward the east. “I was just saying. The people over there are the ones truly fuming. Last night, she was hurling indirect insults for a long time.”

The person she was referring to was Zhao Dasao.

Ever since they had signed the papers to sever their kinship, the two families had not interacted.

Zhao Wencheng and his wife had initially only regretted the silver. They cursed Zhao Mengcheng at home, calling him a short-lived ghost who could only use that bit of money to buy medicine.

They had expected Zhao Mengcheng’s life to get worse and worse, but as the days passed, Zhao Mengcheng and his three children were actually living better and better.

Now that he had even come up with a tofu recipe and looked set to make money, he had even bought meat the night before.

The thought that the second brother’s family was eating meat while theirs only had pickles, and that Zhao Mengcheng had sent tofu to many families but pointedly skipped them, made the couple fume with rage.

Zhao Dasao stood at the door shouting insults indirectly for a long time, but Zhao Mengcheng ignored her completely. Forget tofu, they didn’t even see a drop of dishwater.

A neighbor even mocked her, saying, “You were nowhere to be found when their life was hard, but now that things are looking up, you’re rushing over to take advantage. How can your skin be so thick?”

Zhao Dasao was so angry she felt her head spin. As soon as she got home, she pinched Zhao Laoda. “Look at your family! A bunch of ungrateful wolves⁵. All that kindness we showed them in the past was for nothing.”

She seemed to have forgotten that back when the two families were still on speaking terms, she was the one always taking advantage.

Zhao Laoda pushed her away impatiently. “Don’t bother me.”

Zhao Dasao hit the corner of the table and gasped in pain. Zhao Laoda didn’t even look back as he walked out the door, leaving her to clutch her stomach and weep.

“Mom,” their young daughter, Zhao Xiaohua, said as she walked out.

Zhao Dasao pulled her into an embrace and wailed, crying about her bitter lot in life.

Zhao Xiaohua offered soft words of comfort, hiding the impatience in her eyes. Only after Zhao Dasao had calmed down did she ask, “Is Second Uncle’s health better?”

Zhao Dasao snorted coldly. “He was born with the look of a short life⁶. Even if he’s better now, it’s only a matter of time before he’s gone.”

She harbored a poisonous hatred for her brother-in-law, wishing he had died from his illness last time.

Zhao Xiaohua frowned and suddenly said, “I’m going to take a look.”

“What are you going there for? We’ve cut ties. From now on, you only have your father, not an uncle,” Zhao Dasao snapped, shoving her daughter back into her room.

Zhao Xiaohua couldn’t resist, so she gritted her teeth and waited until the next day. Finally, she managed to slip out when Zhao Dasao wasn’t paying attention.

From a distance, she caught sight of Zhao Mengcheng. The man was thin and frail, his face still pale, but as he stood there smiling, he didn’t look at all like someone about to die.

How could this be!

Translator’s Notes