Xu Zhichun said to the other two, “People say husband and wife are one, and by rights, we shouldn’t be hiding this money-making method from our men. But think about it — if he knows, and his parents, brothers, or relatives start asking, what’s he supposed to do? If he tells them, everyone will know, and our business won’t be worth much. If he doesn’t, they’ll blame him for keeping secrets. So better we don’t tell them at all. If anyone asks, we just say it’s the three of us women earning a bit of pocket money, nothing serious. That way, no one feels entitled to poke their nose in, right?”
“Besides, this is our chance to stand tall. If we can earn our own money, how could the men at home dare to look down on us? Having a way to make money in our own hands — that’s our backbone. We won’t have to fear anyone, anywhere. If we want something, we buy it. If we like it, that’s reason enough. No more weighing and hesitating every time we want to ask our husbands for money. Isn’t that better than anything?”
Zeng Xiaoyan and Aunt Zhu’er suddenly understood.
“Zhichun’s right — when you earn your own money, you’ve got confidence. This is our business, no need for anyone else to meddle.”
Aunt Zhu’er nodded in agreement. “That’s exactly right. As soon as Zhichun said it, I understood. Xiaoyan might not know what it’s like since she has money of her own, but take me for example — my husband treats me decently, I’ll admit that. But even so, whenever I want to get a new dress sewn or buy a nice pair of shoes, I have to think it over and over before I dare bring it up with him, afraid he’ll say no. But if I could earn my own money, why would I need to ask him? I’d just buy it myself!”
Zeng Xiaoyan smiled and said, “Actually, I’m the same. My husband doesn’t have money, but back when I lived with my parents, if I wanted to buy something, I had to rack my brains to please my father first — only when he was in a good mood did I dare bring it up. And even then, I couldn’t ask for anything too nice. If it was too nice, my stepmother would get upset, and in the end, the thing wouldn’t end up in my hands anyway. But if I could earn money myself…”
Zeng Xiaoyan’s eyes lit up. She straightened her back and raised her voice: “Why should I care what they think!”
Sharing the same hardships, the three women sighed together, comforted one another, and grew a little closer.
Xu Zhichun let out a breath of relief. With the profit split and secrecy rules settled, the rest were just minor details. After a round of discussion, everything was set.
Xu Zhichun smiled and said, “When my little genius gets back, I’ll have him write up a contract with all the terms we’ve agreed on. The three of us will press our thumbprints and seal it. From then on, we follow the contract. If anyone breaks the rules, she’ll have to compensate the other two and step out. Like they say, no rules, no order — even blood brothers settle accounts clearly. We’re not doing this to be petty, but to show we’re all honest and open with each other. That way, we can all feel at ease. That’s how things last.”
Zeng Xiaoyan said briskly, “Sister Zhichun is absolutely right. I grew up around family business, and I’ve seen it too many times — relatives and friends turning against each other over money. Most of the time, it starts with unclear accounts. Small disagreements pile up, and one day it all explodes. What we’re doing — keeping things clear and sticking to the rules — it’s the best way.”
Aunt Zhu’er smiled good-naturedly. “I don’t understand all this, but if you two say it’s good, then it must be.”
Xu Zhichun clapped her hands and laughed. “Then it’s settled! Once the contract’s written, we’ll ask Uncle Lizheng to take a look in private. If he says it’s all good, we’ll stamp our thumbprints and seal it. And we’ll ask him to help keep it confidential.”
No sooner said than done — that afternoon, the three of them got to work making konjac tofu.
Xu Zhichun said she’d make a few square wooden basins for shaping — that way, the finished konjac tofu would look nicer.
If it’s something they are selling, it’s got to look good too — presentation is important.
Aunt Zhu’er immediately took her home and let her pick out wooden planks and strips from the side room.
Her husband’s a carpenter — they’ve got plenty of that stuff at home.
Xu Zhichun was overjoyed — there were ready-made materials! After picking through them, she managed to piece together three sets of molds, nailed them with bamboo pegs, and they worked.
The konjac weighed about thirty-one or thirty-two pounds. Peel, dice, grind into paste, stir in alkaline water, shape — then boil and rinse. Xu Zhichun could handle it all herself in one evening.
Good thing there were three of them — after about an hour of hard work, it was all done. If Xu Zhichun had been on her own, who knows how long it would’ve taken.
Besides, she’s a young widow, not even twenty. Going into town alone to sell things — who knows what trouble she might stir up, what gossip she might attract? That kind of risk, she simply can’t afford.
While cutting the konjac, Xu Zhichun deliberately set aside five or six pounds of its snowy-white core to grind separately. She boiled a pot of water, then took a ladle and used an awl to punch a cluster of tiny holes into its bottom. Scooping up a ladleful of the white konjac paste, she let it stream through the perforated ladle like threads of rain, dripping evenly into the boiling water. Following her instructions, Aunt Zhu’er gently stirred with chopsticks — and soon, slender, round strands of snowy-white konjac, like rice noodles, danced and rolled in the bubbling pot.
Zeng Xiaoyan and Aunt Zhu’er were once again full of amazement.
“Whoa! What’s this now? So snowy white — it looks beautiful!”
“This looks delicious just at a glance! It’s amazing! Zhichun, the folks from your hometown sure have skillful hands.”
Xu Zhichun smiled. “This is called konjac noodles. Whether in soup or served cold, it’s got a whole different flavor — crisp and refreshing. We’ll sell this too.”
Konjac noodles — they’re the perfect pairing for oden and mala tang!
They can also turn it into a spicy little snack — nice and hot, perfect for nibbling.
This is a hugely popular food even in modern times— there’s no way it wouldn’t have had a market in ancient times.
Once the konjac noodles are scooped out, they’re cooled in water and drained. Then comes the most important step — tying knots. Knotted konjac noodles have soul.
The three got to work, and before long, the job was done.
Konjac noodles taste best with a spicy kick. If we had soy sauce at home, we could’ve chopped up some red chilies, fried them in oil, and made a simple chili sauce to dip the noodles in. Too bad they don’t have one.
So they just heated up some chicken broth and cooked a few konjac noodles in it — just to taste the flavor.
Sure enough — crisp, springy, and totally addictive.
Zeng Xiaoyan and Aunt Zhu’er couldn’t stop singing its praises.
“Oh dear, I should be heading back!”
Zeng Xiaoyan suddenly slapped her forehead.
I was supposed to bring half a bowl of chicken soup home after lunch — now it’s nearly dinnertime!
Aunt Zhu’er chuckled and said hurriedly, “I’d better get going too — the chickens and pigs need feeding, dinner needs cooking, and I still have to water the garden!”
The three of them made plans to head out again tomorrow, then happily went their separate ways to tend to their own tasks.
As soon as they left, Xu Zhichun rushed to serve a hearty feast to the chickens and the two pigs.
Seeing that the two pigs had clearly put on weight and looked much healthier — their bristly, weed-root-like hair now smooth and glossy — Xu Zhichun felt deeply satisfied.
Once the animals were taken care of, she pulled out half a wild young rooster from her stash, chopped it into pieces, added water to the clay pot, rinsed the meat clean, and set it to slow simmer. That would be dinner for her and her brother-in-law.
Zeng Xiaoyan packed a bowl of stewed chicken soup and a bowl of konjac tofu in her basket and headed home. It wasn’t a lot — just half a wild chicken — but enough for the whole family to sip some broth and taste a few bites of meat.
No sooner had she finished speaking than Second Sister-in-law Zhao exploded.
🐇♡🐇♡🐇♡🐇
Zhao (sniffing): “Is that chicken soup I smell? Wild chicken? Clay pot? Emotional depth?”
Zeng Xiaoyan (without breaking stride): “Nope. Just boiled water with ambition.”
Zhao (circling): “Smells like broth.”
Zeng Xiaoyan (hugging the basket): “It’s for the elderly. And people who don’t gossip.”
Zhao (mock offended): "You walked out with sugar and go home with soup?
Zeng Xiaoyan (deadpan): "Both are not your concern."
Zhao (eyeing the basket): “Just one sip. I’ve been curiously dehydrated since you took the sugar out.”
Zeng Xiaoyan (stepping back): “This soup is for nice people who don't spy on sugar deliveries. Giving you some would fail the sugar's right to privacy.
Zhao (grabbing at the basket): “Sugar and soup don’t hold grudges. People do.”
Zeng Xiaoyan (dodging): “Exactly. And I’m people.”
Zhao (grumbling): “Fine. But next time I make yam porridge, don’t come sniffing.”
Zeng Xiaoyan (smiling sweetly): “I won’t. I have better taste, cold jelly is the key and its colder than you.”
[She walks off triumphantly, soup intact.]
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