Chapter 11: Win-Win Cooperation

“Tofu?” Zhang Qi took the tofu sheet, brought it to his nose to smell, then tore off a piece and put it into his mouth.

He chewed it—completely different from the taste of tofu.

But being this thin, aside from pressing it with a heavy object, he really couldn’t think of another method to make it.

“Qin Jin bought sixty copper coins worth of tofu curd yesterday, and today he bought a hundred and twenty. Looks like these tofu sheets are selling well,” Shen Yucheng added.

Hearing this, Zhang Qi looked at him: “It doesn’t taste like tofu. If it were me, I’d be curious to buy and try it too.”

Shen Yucheng raised an eyebrow: “Then are you going to sell these tofu sheets? The method is really simple.”

Zhang Qi chewed the tofu sheet in his mouth and said nothing.

The price had doubled in just one day, and it seemed even more popular than tofu.

The method was the same—making it could be done easily while making tofu.

But doing this would definitely offend Qin Jin. This tofu sheet idea came from him.

If Qin Jin could make tofu sheets, then he could certainly make tofu out of tofu curd.

However, the key question was—did Qin Jin know how to make tofu curd?

If he didn’t, then as long as Zhang Qi stopped selling tofu curd to him, Qin Jin wouldn’t be able to make tofu sheets, and the business would fall into his hands.

The moment this thought surfaced, a little flame sparked in Zhang Qi’s heart. Then their household income could at least double!

But if he did that, his reputation would be completely ruined.

Besides, there were tofu sellers in the county town too. Qin Jin could just go there to buy tofu curd. The town was so close—it wouldn’t make much difference whether he bought from Zhang Qi or there.

Moreover, Qin Jin had recently turned over a new leaf. He had already created both pea cake and tofu sheets one after the other—who knew if he could make tofu too? If he did, and he bought a stone mill to compete head-on, their family’s foundation could collapse.

Also, there were only so many people in their household. Making tofu and tofu sheets both would stretch them thin. Even if they didn’t eat or sleep, the tofu and tofu sheets they could produce in a day would still be limited.

“Stop overthinking it. Let’s just honestly keep selling him tofu pudding.”

At this moment, Shen Yucheng spoke up, interrupting Zhang Qi’s thoughts.

Zhang Qi looked up at him, and he sighed, “This business idea came from Qin Jin. If we snatch it away, people will point fingers at our backs.”

“Besides, he can still go to the county town to buy tofu curd and make tofu sheets.”

“There’s no need. Let’s just honestly sell him the tofu curd. The more he earns, the more we earn. We’re all neighbors in the same village—better to stay on good terms.”

Such a profitable business was right in front of them—who wouldn’t be tempted?

But the risk was too high. They might end up losing more than they gained. Instead of taking that risk, it was better to earn steadily. Just by selling tofu curd, their family could earn dozens, even hundreds of copper coins more a day.

Over time, that would still amount to a significant sum.

“You’re right,” Zhang Qi nodded.

With that nod, he immediately felt much more at ease. He smiled and said, “Let’s hope he buys 200 copper coins worth of tofu curd tomorrow.”

“Then we’ll be worked to death,” Shen Yucheng laughed too.

Tofu curd wasn’t easy to make either—it involved grinding soy milk and curdling it. If Qin Jin really started buying more and more, their household would have to work even harder.

Thinking of it this way, he felt more and more that he’d been foolish just now.

He had only thought about stealing the business, and completely ignored the fact that their family had limited manpower, limited ability, limited stove space. Thinking it over now, the tofu sheet business could only be left to Qin Jin—they couldn’t get involved.

“In the future, let’s give Qin Jin a small discount—how about one copper coin off every ten jin?” he said to Zhang Qi.

“Alright, we’ll do as you say,” Zhang Qi agreed.

The two husbands exchanged a glance and felt a bit embarrassed. Greed had clouded their judgment—they’d really been possessed for a moment.

After returning home, Qin Jin went to find Old Qin, asking him to weave a few baskets. He would be making lots of tofu sheets in the future, and the household’s current baskets weren’t enough.

He wasn’t too worried about Zhang Qi and his husband having other intentions. He couldn’t afford a stone mill yet, but if the Zhangs really overstepped, he’d rally the entire Qin family to make tofu and cut off the source entirely.

He wasn’t afraid of competing with the Zhangs. He could make a wide variety of soy products. If it came to a competition, the Zhangs couldn’t beat him.

He was determined to keep doing the soy product business. Asking Old Qin to start weaving baskets now—he’d definitely need them soon enough.

Old Qin cheerfully agreed. He even skipped his afternoon nap, grabbed his sickle, and headed up the mountain to cut branches.

His fourth son was now hardworking and motivated, and it gave him energy too.

Thinking back, when the family split up, because the fourth son was still single, most of the household items had gone to the three elder brothers. Qin Jin was short on just about everything.

The pots, bowls, and pans had been gradually collected over time.

Now that he was running a business, as a father, he couldn’t help much, but at least he could supply some baskets and containers.

Items taken out and used daily needed to be neatly and beautifully made—he couldn’t let his son lose face.

When Qin Jin returned home, Ye Miao was sitting at the main room’s doorway, embroidering a handkerchief. He was a bit surprised and walked over to ask, “Didn’t you dislike embroidery?”

“I didn’t like it before, but I do now.” Ye Miao looked up at him, a smile on his face.

“Why?” Qin Jin was puzzled.

“Before, I was forced to embroider. Now, I want to do it myself.”

Without the pressure of earning a livelihood, picking up the needle and thread again felt calm and relaxed. Besides joy, there was also a sense of satisfaction as he stitched pattern by pattern.

This was a skill he depended on for a living, and he was better at it than most embroiderers.

But he didn’t have the face to tell Qin Jin such a petty thought. He just said, “I’m just casually stitching a little. It won’t tire me, and I can earn a few coins back.”

Qin Jin thought for a moment after hearing that and nodded. “As long as you know what you’re doing.”

True enough.

Although he’d already said that the money in the chest was available for his little husband to use freely, over the past few days, Ye Miao hadn’t touched a single coin.

He even took out his dowry money to buy baby chicks.

Now, casually embroidering a bit to save up some private money wasn’t a bad idea.

In the future, once the debts were paid off, he’d definitely make up for that dowry money generously.

“Go ahead and embroider. I’ll go wash some wheat and corn. Once they’re dried, I’ll grind them into flour,” he said, heading toward the west room.

There were three main rooms— the central one was for receiving guests, the right one was their bedroom, and the left room was used to store grain.

Ye Miao heard this and immediately said, “Brother Jin, you go rest—I’ll wash it.”

“It’s fine. I’ll do it,” Qin Jin shook his head.

Grain was heavy. How could he let his little husband carry it to the old yard to wash it? Heavy labor like that was his responsibility.

Qin Jin didn’t want Ye Miao to do it, but how could Ye Miao just watch? He insisted on going with him to the old yard.

Qin Jin had no choice but to assign him lighter tasks—picking out small stones from the wheat, handing him the sieve, moving the large winnowing basket—he kept Ye Miao busy all around him.

Wang Xiuqin woke from her nap and saw this scene, finding it amusing.

And to think he said he didn’t have feelings for the ger—he couldn’t even bear to let him do the slightest heavy work. To spoil a husband to this extent—she’d never seen anyone else in the village like her fourth son.

She pulled out a bolt of linen from the chest. Hugging it, she came out of the room. She had woven it last winter, originally planning to make clothes for Qin Jin, but hadn’t found the time. Now that Qin Jin was married, she handed the task over to his husband.

Ye Miao took the linen and returned home first. When Qin Jin came back too, he immediately pulled out a measuring tape to take Qin Jin’s measurements.

Qin Jin was tall, and he had to stand on tiptoe to measure his shoulders. After measuring the front, he measured the back, then crouched down to measure the waist and trouser length. After all the fuss, his cheeks were slightly flushed, and his heart felt like a little rabbit, bouncing around—making him both happy and frustrated.

His husband had broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long legs—just too handsome.

The thoughts he had suppressed before began to rise again. They had been married for some time now—how could they have only been intimate once?

His heart stirred restlessly, and soon it was evening. After washing up, Ye Miao as usual lay in Qin Jin’s arms. The room was pitch black. He held his breath and waited, and soon, he heard Qin Jin’s steady, even breathing.

Qin Jin had fallen asleep.  

…  

He bit his lip, feeling both annoyed and disappointed. 

If he had known earlier, he wouldn’t have waited. He should’ve just undressed Qin Jin the moment the oil lamp went out.  

But remembering how exhausted Qin Jin had been all day, he listened to his breathing for a while and slowly drifted off to sleep as well.  

Oh well, Qin Jin was already his husband now—what difference would a few more months make?  

He hadn’t slept enough, but his body woke up on instinct. He washed up, made pea cakes, and called out to Qin Jin to get up.  

This time, Qin Jin didn’t refuse Ye Miao’s kindness. One hundred and twenty jin of tofu pudding couldn’t realistically be hauled back by him alone.  

Last night, they had already brought over the water buckets from the old courtyard. 

He and Zhao Feng each carried two buckets and went to the Zhang household.  

As soon as Zhang Qi and his husband saw them, they smiled and praised him for being clever and hardworking. They also said that from now on, for every ten jin of tofu curd bought, one copper coin would be discounted.  

Yesterday, Qin Jin had paid 120 copper coins, which should have gotten him 120 jin of tofu pudding. With the new discounted price, it came to 108 copper coins, leaving a surplus of 12 copper coins. The Zhang couple, of course, didn’t return the extra 12 copper coins—they simply gave 12 extra jin of tofu pudding.  

Their attitude made Qin Jin breathe a sigh of relief. Unless absolutely necessary, he didn’t want to fall out with others—mutual benefit was always better.  

They were all villagers, all from the working class. There was no need to hurt each other.  

Happily, they carried the tofu pudding back and got right to work making tofu sheets.

Although today’s batch had doubled in quantity, it was simple work and didn’t take much time to finish. It didn’t affect their market stall plans.  

Out of the 132 jin of tofu curd, they sent some to the old courtyard. There were many people there: Qin Bing and his wife had three children, plus old man Qin and Wang Xiuqin. So they brought over a big basin.  

They kept a bit for themselves, leaving 120 jin to actually be used for making tofu sheets.  

From that, they produced 26 jin of Tofu sheets.  

Keeping one jin for home use, he took 14 jin of pea cakes and 25 jin of tofu sheets to set up a stall at the city gate.  

When he arrived, he did just like the day before—cutting up samples of todu sheets for passersby to try.  

He stuck to the strategy of offering a new dish for just one wen, attracting wave after wave of customers. Even small food stall owners nearby couldn’t resist coming over to buy some and see what the fuss was about.  

By mid-morning, all the tofu sheets had sold out, and more than half the pea cakes were gone too. The coin pouch Wang Xiuqin had sewn for him was now bulging.  

He lazily sold for a little while longer. Once there was only half a jin of pea cakes left, he packed up.  

Tofu sheet definitely had potential. He decided to save the remaining half jin of pea cakes for his family to enjoy—as a small celebration. Then he’d buy a jin of pork—this time, he could afford to spend.  

Just as he grabbed the basket and was about to leave, a familiar voice called out behind him: “Little brother! Wait a moment.”  

He stopped and looked back. It was the young ger from yesterday. He smiled and said, “The tofu sheets are all sold out—only half a jin of pea cakes left.”  

Upon hearing this, the young ger let out an “Ah!” full of regret and frustration.  

If he’d known, he would’ve come earlier. He hadn’t expected the tofu sheets to sell out so fast.  

When he tried a sample yesterday, he thought the taste was just okay. But after he took it to his mother’s home and mixed in various seasonings, the flavor instantly elevated. His younger brother ended up drinking half a jin of liquor with just a plate of spicy red-oil tofu sheet and some pig head meat.  

He had planned to share some with his in-laws, but his brother had eaten it all.  

Just now he mentioned it to his father-in-law, who also got curious, so he came over to buy more—but it was all gone.  

“Little brother, do you have any more tofu sheet at home?” he asked, not really expecting much.