Sun Xiaomai lowered her head, wiping away tears as she sobbed, “Village Chief, I was blinded by greed. Please, with your great kindness, can you let this go since it’s my first offense?”

Zhou Chuncao quickly echoed, “Me too, me too! Please be magnanimous and forgive us this time.”

Second Uncle Jiang frowned deeply and corrected them, “I am not the one you wronged, so you don’t need my forgiveness. Besides, if merely admitting a mistake were enough, wouldn’t everyone start doing the same?

A hefty penalty would be too much for you to bear, but a light one wouldn’t make you truly recognize your mistake. So, let’s do this—you each must give Shen Qing a duck as an apology. If this happens again, next time it will be three, then five!”

Hearing that the punishment was just a duck, Sun Xiaomai and Zhou Chuncao felt both heartache and relief.

After all, Qili Village was surrounded by water, and every household raised a good number of ducks.

Duck eggs were cheaper than chicken eggs, so if they had to compensate with an old hen, that would be truly painful.

But a duck was still meat—several pounds of it!

Right now, they were rationing their grain carefully, and losing a duck over a few careless words felt like such a loss.

Holding back their frustration, they reluctantly agreed, “Fine, we’ll bring it to Shen Qing’s house later.”

Jiang Ying muttered under her breath, “Serves you right.”

After hearing Jiang Yang’s judgment, the crowd dispersed—some feeling that Sun Xiaomai and Zhou Chuncao deserved to lose two ducks for spreading rumors, while others envied Shen Qing for getting two fat ducks for free.

Ultimately, many people thought Feng Qin’s and Zhao Mingyue’s families were lucky.

Why did Shen Qing pick them?

How could they get chosen too…?

---

As the crowd left, Shen Qing finally breathed a sigh of relief, and the Jiang family collectively relaxed as well.

“Second Uncle already told you all, right?” Shen Qing asked the gathered family members.

Zhao Mingyue beamed brightly and said, “Yes, he did! We’ve already started grinding the soybeans, but it took us quite a while, and we didn’t get much. Your fourth and fifth brothers are still grinding at home. Should we go check if it’s enough?”

The Jiang family followed a strict order of ranking.

Shen Qing’s husband was the eldest grandson, the oldest in his generation.

Jiang Dazhao and Jiang Dalang were the second and third sons.

Zhao Mingyue and the fifth branch of the family had quite a gap in age compared to the older siblings.

Their children were mixed in age, arranged in an interwoven order.

As they walked toward Zhao Mingyue’s house, Shen Qing instructed, “Alright, today’s our first attempt, so we didn’t have time to soak the beans.

From now on, when the weather is cold, soak them right after dinner.

When it’s warm, soak them before bed. Start grinding at choushi (1-3 AM) so we can make it in time for the morning market. It’ll be tough work.”

Waking up at 1 or 2 AM was the hardest time—it was when people slept the deepest. Getting up at that hour to turn a stone mill would definitely be exhausting.

But they had no choice. Tofu was all about freshness, and the morning market was when households bought their daily food supplies.

Zhao Mingyue dismissed the concern with a laugh, “Tough? Shen Qing, you don’t understand. I’m not afraid of hardship—I’m afraid of having no way to earn silver! Besides, we have plenty of men in the house, and it’s the slow season for farming right now.

So what if they wake up early? Even if they stay up all night, it’s fine.

They don’t have much to do during the day anyway. If they’re tired, they can just nap.”

Now that they knew they could make money by selling tofu, the whole family was thrilled.

Especially the younger ones—they hadn’t married yet! Even the older ones were delighted. With a steady income, they wouldn’t have to worry about going hungry anymore.

If something happened, they’d have savings, and they wouldn’t panic.

By the time they arrived at Zhao Mingyue’s house, the others inside saw Shen Qing enter and instinctively stood up to make space.

In the village, Second Uncle Jiang’s household was the wealthiest.

First, because he had worked as a bodyguard for decades and accumulated wealth.

Second, because he knew how to handle relationships.

While the village chief’s position was small, it still granted him access to officials.

Though he couldn’t secure high-paying jobs, he could arrange small tasks for his own family.

He had set up his eldest son and the eldest of the fifth branch with jobs.

With Jiang Dazhao earning a steady income, farmland yielding crops, and Xie Qingshan having previously worked as a bodyguard, Jiang Ying’s family was quite well-off—arguably the richest.

Third Master Jiang, on the other hand, was skilled at fishing.

Zhao Mingyue had a bright and capable personality, often going to the city to sell eels.

She was diligent and good at managing the household, making her family one of the top three wealthiest in the village.

The clearest sign of their wealth was that their house wasn’t just made of mud bricks—they even had a proper stove in the kitchen, unlike Shen Qing’s house, where they had to stack up stones to cook.

Now, that stove was perfect for making soy milk.

Today’s batch was just a trial, so the setup didn’t need to be perfect. Large muslin cloths weren’t available, but smaller ones would work.

The wooden mold for shaping tofu wasn’t ready either, so they’d use bowls and basins instead.

Once the muslin cloth, bowls, and basins were prepared, they started boiling the filtered soy milk.

Shen Qing took out a small bowl, poured in slaked lime, and mixed it with some water, explaining, “This is slaked lime, not raw lime. Be sure to get the right kind when buying, or it won’t work.”

Here, slaked lime was also called gypsum powder.

When she first bought it, she wasn’t sure of the difference between the two, so she got both. Initially, she thought the gypsum would be useless, but it turned out to be essential for making tofu.

That’s why she brought some for Zhao Mingyue.

The entire room nodded seriously, committing her words to memory.

Shen Qing continued, “Tofu can be coagulated using two different agents:

Slaked lime, like what we’re using. It makes the tofu smooth and tender, with a delicate texture and strong soybean aroma, perfect for stir-frying or stewing.

Brine (Nigari), which produces firmer, coarser tofu with a strong soybean flavor. It’s best for frying or grilling.

Both methods work the same way—you slowly pour the coagulant into the boiled soy milk while stirring with a wooden spatula to fully blend them together.

If you ever come across someone selling brine, buy some to try it out. But today, we’ll be using slaked lime.”

There were actually two other types of coagulants, but they weren’t available here.

If the marketplace system eventually added them, she could introduce them later. For now, practicality was best.

The entire room nodded eagerly.

The younger ones, watching Shen Qing confidently explaining the process, couldn’t hide their admiration.

And when they saw the soy milk transform into delicate tofu curds, their admiration reached its peak!

“Wow! Sister-in-law, how did you do that?”

“I didn’t even blink—how did it turn solid?”

“This is incredible! No wonder tofu-making is a guarded craft, passed down through generations. Without hands-on teaching, I wouldn’t understand even if I watched!”

Shen Qing: … Being praised like this feels so good. I’m getting a little proud—what do I do?