Chapter 25: The Young Couple’s First Market Stall

Mother He had just finished rinsing the brown rice when Su Yi’an and the others arrived home.

Faced with the daily gruel and Su Yi’an’s promise of fresh, new dishes, the children naturally clamored for her cooking.

Su Yi’an handed her purse to He Ningwen, instructing her to take it inside and count the coins, then headed to the kitchen to prepare the meal.

He Ningwen was bursting with stories about their day at the market—how they sold the noodles, how people praised them—every detail she couldn’t wait to share with the family.

He Xingchen was torn. He wanted to hear the stories but also longed to help his aunt in the kitchen. In the end, He Yunhuai coaxed him inside.

“What did you say to him? He ran off so quickly,” Su Yi’an remarked, grabbing an extra handful of brown rice. She rinsed it and added it to the wooden basin, then poured in water.

He Yunhuai took over He Xingchen’s task, lighting the stove. “I asked how many calligraphy characters he practiced today,” he said, sitting on a small wooden stool as he fed firewood into the stove.

His real motive for sending the boy away and staying behind was partly selfish. They rarely had moments alone—especially to discuss things like Butcher Wang’s strange comment.

“What do you think the butcher meant by that?” Su Yi’an asked after setting the steamer on the pot and placing the basin of rice on top.

He Yunhuai replied, “He said someone had been buying sausages repeatedly. But we’ve only sold them once in town.”

All clues pointed to the Bright Moon Tavern—the only buyer that day. Su Yi’an felt disgusted. For a prominent establishment to stoop to petty theft?

“This product is rare,” He Yunhuai said. “They didn’t want to pay, so now they’re trying to reverse-engineer it. Even if they bought pig intestines, they wouldn’t know how to use them right away.”

Still, Su Yi’an was irritated. “We can’t let them get their way,” she said flatly.

The aroma of brown rice filled the air as she focused on dinner. She cracked two eggs into a bowl, diced the remaining half sausage, and asked He Yunhuai to wash some winter mallow.

She briefly boiled the mallow, then stir-fried it with eggs, sausage, and the steamed rice. A sprinkle of coarse salt completed the meal.

He Yunhuai watched the process and thought it looked like a hodgepodge, but when asked, he praised it: “Not bad.”

Inside, He Ningwen had counted the coins twice—180 copper coins.

“So much!” Mother He’s eyes widened. “On the first day?”

“Sister Su said people are just trying something new today. Once the sausage runs out, fewer might buy,” He Ningwen explained.

When Su Yi’an entered with bowls and chopsticks, she found the family unusually glum.

“Why the long faces? We did great today!” she teased, poking Ningwen’s cheek.

“But we’re almost out of sausage,” Ningwen sighed.

“That’s all? I thought something serious had happened.”

She served everyone bowls of fried rice—a lavish meal by their standards. Mother He only finished one bowl but was full. Ningwen ate a bowl and a half.

“Sister Su, this is delicious! If you sold it, people would love it,” Ningwen said.

Su Yi’an considered the idea, but eggs were expensive in winter. For now, noodle soup made more sense.

They’d definitely need to make more sausages. Before the Bright Moon Tavern figured out their version, they had to establish themselves as *the* sausage vendors in town.

“Mother, I’ll need you to prepare the casings these next few days,” she said.

Mother He agreed. She hadn’t done it before, but with Yi’an’s demo, she quickly picked it up.

After dinner, everyone gathered in the kitchen. Su Yi’an demonstrated how to clean the casings.

“Don’t worry, Yi’an,” said Mother He, her hands busy. “By the time you’re back tomorrow, these will be ready.”

“There’s no rush,” Yi’an replied. “They need to dry a few days anyway. Let’s also prep other braising ingredients.”

Night fell. The oil lamp lit the kitchen as everyone continued working, not a word of fatigue among them.

Even He Yunhuai was kneading dough—and He Xingchen too.

Su Yi’an rendered pork backfat into lard and saved the cracklings. She prepped tomorrow’s meat sauce: dicing pork, stir-frying it in lard, and adding aged vegetable sauce. Then she chopped cracklings and added them too.

“I bet this is better than the meat noodles in town,” Mother He said confidently, just from the smell.

Su Yi’an packed the sauce into ceramic jars and set aside a bowl for the family. Then she had an idea—bring a bone to make broth. Cheap, but it added flavor that would draw customers.

Meanwhile, He Yunhuai and He Xingchen proudly presented a dough ball. “Isn’t it pretty?” the boy beamed.

Though far from perfect, Su Yi’an smiled. “Yes, it’s beautiful.”

As the wind howled outside, they kept working, energized by the day’s success. Before bed, Su Yi’an cleaned up carefully to avoid rats and finally slipped into bed, completely exhausted.

She had been working since before dawn. Now, lulled by the wind, she drifted into a deep sleep.

The next day, they woke late and missed the oxcart again. Luckily, the baskets weren’t heavy—just dough and jars.

“You’re finally here! I skipped breakfast for your hot noodles,” the dried flatbread seller greeted them.

Su Yi’an asked her sister to hold their stall while she and He Yunhuai followed the old woman home to retrieve yesterday’s wares.

“Auntie, today’s noodles have a different flavor,” she warned.

“No sausage?” the old woman frowned. “Just sliced meat like the town’s?”

Su Yi’an shook her head. “Not sliced—diced.”

The woman was disappointed but too hungry to argue. “I’ll take a bowl. Just bring it over.” She paid with seven copper coins this time—no steamed bun.

Su Yi’an lit the stove, added bones, and prepped noodles as usual.

“A bowl of vegetarian noodles, please.”

As she prepared the next order, she handed the first bowl to He Yunhuai. “Let me know if Auntie doesn’t like it.”

He nodded and brought it over. Though dressed plainly, he still had the bearing of a scholar.

The old woman accepted the bowl and smiled. “Are you married?”

Married? If that day counted, then yes. He glanced at Su Yi’an and nodded.

“Told you they were a young couple,” the old woman said to her companion. “Running a stall together like that?”

Just then, a customer approached her stall to buy ten dried flatbreads. “Your noodles smell amazing.”

“They’re from the next stall. Yesterday’s were even better—big slices of meat. They call it ‘sausage.’” She clicked her tongue. “But they’re out today.”

“She looks unfamiliar,” the customer said, glancing at Su Yi’an.

“She just started setting up here. I heard she’s from Yongyang Village, the one nestled in the mountains.”

“That’s quite a distance,” the customer remarked. Having obtained the information he wanted, he didn’t linger.

Though doubts lingered in his mind, his immediate priority was to relay this news to his master.