Chapter 19

Chen Youtian’s intuition was correct.

Thirty-two pieces of fairy tofu were sold out by Sang Luo with the help of the two children in just one hour. Even Chen Youtian’s eggs were sold at Sang Luo’s recommendation. Three to five people bought them, and they were all sold out.

This honest man witnessed for the first time how selling things could be so bustling. With one adult and two children, it was like having a lively percussion team. It was as lively and cheerful as singing a big opera.

He looked at his empty basket. Who was supposed to be taking care of whom?

“Uncle Arita, we still need to buy something at the market. Can you wait for us? We’ll be back soon,” Sang Luo asked Chen Youtian as she packed up their belongings.

Chen Youtian nodded. “Sure.”

He didn’t say much, either. He went to Sang Luo’s side and picked up the carrying pole, put the pottery basin, bamboo tube, wooden spoon, and his own basket into two water buckets, and then picked them up.

What was left for Sang Luo were two carrying baskets, one with some exchanged items and one empty.

Chen Youtian glanced at the exchanged items in the basket—a piece of linen, several vegetables like radishes, sunflower greens, eggplants, and cucumbers, and two eggs. The linen and eggs were fine, but those vegetables were things that could be grown on their own land. Chen Youtian, a farmer, felt it was a waste.

He wanted to say something several times, but he was not a talkative person in normal times, and he just waited quietly on the side.

By now, Sang Luo and Shen An had also packed their carrying baskets. Shen An, who had been carefully clutching the copper coins in his pockets, now handed them all over to Sang Luo.

Unlike children’s clothes, which had pockets, Sang Luo didn’t have a money bag, so she divided the coins into two parts and stuffed them into her sleeve pockets.

Out of the thirty-two pieces of fairy tofu, three were exchanged for items, one for eggs, one for four kinds of vegetables, and another was exchanged for a yard and a half of linen after Sang Luo saw a nearby old woman selling cloth and voluntarily asked to exchange for it. 

Her handkerchief was too small to use as a filter for making fairy tofu, and the coarse linen sold by the old woman was not suitable for normal clothing, but it was suitable for patching or making summer clothes for poor families. Sang Luo’s handkerchief was perfect for use as a filter.

Of course, a piece of fairy tofu worth two cents couldn’t be exchanged for a yard and a half of linen. After inquiring about the price, Sang Luo paid the old woman seven cents and added a larger corner piece of tofu as a bonus. This price was finally agreed upon.

The remaining twenty-nine pieces of fairy tofu were all paid for in copper coins, totaling fifty-eight cents. The last few small pieces were rounded up to a full wen and given to a young woman with a child. After deducting the seven wen given out for the linen, Sang Luo now had a whopping fifty-two wen in her sleeves.

Yes, it was indeed a “whopping” amount.

At this time, a single copper coin wasn’t heavy, but more than fifty of them were put together…

When Sang Luo took the money from Shen An, she weighed it in her hand and estimated that it would be around four taels in modern weight. Just imagine the weight in one’s pockets with more than fifty copper coins.

Thinking about it while carrying a half box of Yili milk in one’s pocket definitely didn’t feel good.

The importance of having a money pouch was evident.

Of course, a yard and a half of linen could produce more than just one square piece of filter cloth. However, since the linen was too coarse and the copper coins too heavy, it wasn’t suitable for making a money pouch.

Sang Luo thought that when she went to the county town next time, she would visit the fabric store to see if there were any cheap fabric remnants she could buy. Then she could sew herself a money pouch.

Of course, the most urgent matter at hand was to buy two pottery basins. If this business was to continue, she couldn’t keep borrowing things from the Chen family. It might be fine once or twice, but if it continued, it would inconvenience the Chen family’s daily life, and that would be irresponsible of her.

Sang Luo looked around, and Chen Youtian asked her what she was looking for.

Sang Luo: “I want to find some pottery basins and buy some rice.”

Chen Youtian understood and said, “You don’t need to look around the stall. At the beginning of the year, the government collected this year’s taxes in advance, and the rice hasn’t been collected yet. Every household is tightening their belts to make ends meet. No one will be selling grain. You can only buy it at the general store at the entrance of the village or at the pottery basin shop.”

As he spoke, Chen Youtian’s mood visibly dampened. He picked up his carrying pole and led Sang Luo and the others towards the general store.

In the original owner’s memory, such general stores didn’t exist in small villages. They were only found in larger villages like Sanli Village. They sold a variety of goods, mainly long-lasting items that were convenient for people to buy urgently on non-market days, so they didn’t have to go to the county town.

When Sang Luo and the others arrived at the entrance of the general store, they indeed saw a variety of goods inside. When they inquired about the price of rice, the shopkeeper said, “As for rice, it’s seventy wen per dou.”

Indeed, at this time, rice would be available for sale in the county town, but most people in the countryside preferred to buy land rice and pound it at home to produce rice, which was relatively more cost-effective.

Typically, one dou of grain could produce about seventy percent or slightly more rice. The price of rice at the county grain depot was not much different from that of grain, plus a small fee for processing.

At first glance, it might not seem like there was much difference. Wasn’t pounding rice laborious?

However, who among the rural folk would be frugal with their efforts? Moreover, there was a significant difference between buying grain and buying rice. Despite the seemingly small difference in price, there was actually a big distinction because pounding rice would yield an additional thirty percent of bran.

In the eyes of farmers, bran was also considered grain. In times of scarcity, it served as human food, and when times were better, it could be used to feed chickens, ducks, and pigs, all of which would thrive on it.

Bran was valuable too!

Chen Youtian’s attention was fully focused on the price of seventy cents per dou of grain!

“How come the price has gone up again? Wasn’t it sixty wen per dou just a while ago?” he asked.

The shopkeeper glanced at him. “Have you not been paying attention to the price of grain for the past few months? The price has risen twice already.”

“This year, the court levied taxes in advance, and grains are in short supply. Moreover, there have been floods in several northern provinces. Many merchants from the south are buying grain in large quantities, and there are also many refugees fleeing south. There is a big gap in grain supply. I’m pricing my grain according to the county grain depot. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the county town and ask. I guarantee the price will be the same.”

Chen Youtian was speechless.

Sang Luo pursed her lips. In the original owner’s memory, after fleeing from the north to the south, the price of grain here was already very low. In the provinces where disasters had struck, the price of rice had reached several hundred cents per dou.

However, since the original owner was sheltered from the outside world, she wasn’t very clear about the normal price of grain. Therefore, Sang Luo initially thought that the price of seventy cents per dou of grain in Qiyang County was the norm. Yes, when she first arrived in Qiyang County, the price of a dou of grain was sixty-five cents.

Sang Luo based the pricing of fairy tofu on this as well.

So, when she heard the shopkeeper quote the price of seventy cents per dou of grain, her reaction wasn’t as extreme as Chen Youtian’s. It was only when she saw Chen Youtian’s anxious expression and heard his conversation with the shopkeeper that Sang Luo realized that seventy cents per dou of grain was probably considered high-priced in the south.

Sang Luo felt a bit heavy-hearted.

With the memories of the original owner, she could easily deduce that the people in this time and space were going through hard times. Wars, disasters, heavy duties, and taxes—people were just trying to survive, with no time or courage to think about anything else.

It wasn’t until now, because of the price of grain, that this issue was blatantly presented to her. There was no avoiding it.

But what could she do about it?

She couldn’t manipulate fate or supernatural forces to transport her to a better place, nor did she have the power to challenge the authorities and become a queen who would bring about a peaceful and prosperous era.

All she could do was try a little harder to make herself live as long as possible and to live a little better. That was all.

The shopkeeper, seeing that Chen Youtian had fallen silent, asked, “Are you still buying?”

Sang Luo took over the conversation. “Yes, but I want to take a look at the pottery basin first.”

The author has something to say:

Although it’s a fictional dynasty, the price of grain here is referenced in some historical records. In times of chaos or disasters, the price of grain could rise to several thousand cents per dou.

Grain prices varied from dynasty to dynasty and were influenced by factors such as harvest, the state of the world, and the value of currency at the time.

In this story, the dynasty is declining, and there are natural disasters in the north. However, the world hasn’t yet begun to descend into chaos, especially in the southern region, where the female lead is. Taking everything into consideration, this price was set.