Chapter 19 – Hawthorn Roll

Qin Jin swallowed the bite of apple in his mouth and frowned. “If I don’t pay you wages, your mother will surely cause a scene.”

Qin An had already thought of a response: “Anyway, you’ve already made things clear with the village chief. She agreed to it first—if she goes back on her word, then she’ll be the one blamed.”

“At that time, I’ll insist you already paid me my wages. Others will surely believe us, not her. Don’t worry, I won’t let her trouble you. She may not care about saving face, but… but there are still people she does care about.”

This matter was clearly his mother’s fault. If she caused a scene, most people would stand on Qin Jin’s side.

Besides, his mother had someone she cared deeply about—his older brother, Qin Shuli.

If it really came to Qin Jin being affected by the trouble, then he would use Qin Shuli to pressure his mother into stopping her antics.

It’s just that, unless absolutely necessary, he truly didn’t want to say that in front of others. It would make people think he was a heartless son betraying his own mother.

But he really had no other way.

He was growing older by the day, yet his mother still clung to the dream of marrying him into a wealthy household. She was still lost in that fantasy—he wasn’t. He had to start planning for himself.

Was he born just to be her beast of burden?

He refused to accept that. He didn’t agree with it either.

Since he had this life, he had to live it for himself.

Coming to Qin Jin’s house to work was a rare and valuable opportunity. He had to seize it and learn some fine embroidery skills to rely on.

If his mother dared to make trouble, then he’d go all in—if he went down, he’d take everything down with him. No one would have peace.

Still, it did trouble him that he was causing problems for Qin Jin. With his mother’s temper, anyone she set her eyes on would end up with a headache.

Qin Jin picked up on Qin An’s implied meaning.

He raised his brows slightly, quite surprised.

Actually, the reason he’d so readily agreed to Zhu Erhong’s request was because of Qin Shuli’s status as the family’s “shining star.” With him around, Zhu Erhong wouldn’t dare act out in front of him. He hadn’t expected Qin An, who usually seemed quiet and reserved, to have the guts to use Qin Shuli against his own mother.

He’d underestimated this An-ge.

Since An-ge wasn’t clueless, then he would offer a hand. This world was far too harsh on women and younger gers like him.

He opened his mouth and said, “If you want to learn needlework, then study with Miao-ge. But you’ll still get paid.”

“No need for wages. If I learn needlework, I won’t be able to do much else,” Qin An quickly shook his head. “Just being taught is already more than enough for me. I don’t know how to do much else—just some chores here and there to help out.”

“Why make things sound so distant? I’m your cousin, how can I take advantage of you? It’s settled then.” Qin Jin said, then pointed to the kitchen, “Go help Miao-ge with lunch. We still have to make more pumpkin cakes this afternoon to send to Huang Chunlan.”

With that, he headed toward the main room.

Qin An’s lips moved a little, nose turning slightly sore. Watching Qin Jin walk into the house, he pushed down that feeling and turned to go into the kitchen.

There was really so little he could give back.

Though in the kitchen, Ye Miao had heard every word of the conversation between Qin An and Qin Jin. Seeing Qin An enter, he said seriously, “An-ge, don’t overthink. Just learn your needlework, do your tasks—someone as kind as you won’t be forsaken by the heavens.”

“It’s just that fate hasn’t come around yet. Look at me, and you’ll understand.”

Qin An smiled softly at that.

He was far inferior to Miao-ge. Miao-ge had good looks and a skill that brought in money. So he didn’t ask for much. As long as someone didn’t despise him and was willing to live a steady life together, that would be enough.

Still, after speaking his heart out, he felt much lighter. He quickly helped Ye Miao prepare lunch.

After the meal, he and Ye Miao started making pumpkin cakes. This time, Qin Jin didn’t step in—the entire process was handled by the two of them. They remembered every step from yesterday clearly, so the cakes they made today were just as good as Qin Jin’s.

Once the cakes were done, Qin Jin placed them in a small basket and carried them to Huang Chunlan’s house.

Huang Chunlan’s husband was named Yan Shengli, and Yan Shengli’s father, Yan Xiang, was the village head of Wuligou village. When Qin Jin arrived at the Yan family home, Yan Xiang was strolling in the courtyard with his eldest grandson in a small pushcart.

Qin Jin couldn’t help but smile. Sure enough, Huang Chunlan was swift and efficient—she said yesterday she’d buy a pushcart, and today she already had one.

At that moment, Huang Chunlan was sitting by the well washing apples.

Seeing Qin Jin, the usually stern-faced Yan Xiang actually revealed a faint smile. “Qin Jin, you’re here. Come, have a seat.”

Huang Chunlan also greeted him warmly and handed him two freshly washed apples.

Qin Jin handed over the small basket of pumpkin cakes. “Sister-in-law, Uncle Yan, have a taste—just fried, still warm.”

“Aiyo, they’re deep-fried?” Huang Chunlan looked at the dozen or so golden little cakes, her smile deepening. When she heard glutinous rice flour was added, she couldn’t help clicking her tongue—well then, clearly she was the one getting the good deal.

She had originally planned to casually give away the pumpkins, but now she felt she was taking advantage of the young man. She immediately grabbed a basket and said, “My family’s apples didn’t sell this year, so we sent over dozens of pounds. Since you’re here, take some back.”

“They didn’t sell?” Qin Jin thought of the apples he’d bought earlier that day—red and green, crisp, not too sweet but definitely not sour, with a strong apple flavor.

More importantly: cheap.

This era wasn’t like the one he came from, where fruits from all over were available year-round. Back now, people simply ate what was grown locally.

Still, even then, fruit wasn’t cheap.

Farmers lived at the mercy of nature. Many households couldn’t even grow enough grain to fill their bellies, let alone have the spare land or energy to grow fruit trees.

Low supply meant high prices.

So even local, in-season fruits typically sold for around ten copper coins a jin.

Take jujubes, for instance—common but fresh ones still went for ten coins a jin, and dried ones cost even more. If made into candied jujubes, they were priced like sugar—well out of reach for most common folk.

But the apples he’d bought today were indeed cheap—only five coins a jin. And now Huang Chunlan was saying her family’s apples weren’t selling?

“Why not?” He couldn’t help but ask.

Huang Chunlan sighed. “Our Dongyang County is close to the capital. In previous years, merchants from the county town would buy our apples and then sell them to traders who’d come through and transport them to the capital.”

“But this year, there were floods in the south, and a lot of merchant caravans couldn’t make it. So, the county’s merchants stopped buying apples.”

“Apples aren’t like grain; they don’t keep for a year or more. Worried they’d spoil, families who grew apples took to the streets to peddle them. But several villages near my family all grow apples. When everyone tries to sell at once, prices naturally fall.”

“My family wasn’t willing to sell them off dirt-cheap, so they sent over dozens of jin and told us to eat as much as we like.”

In truth, her family didn’t rely on apples to make a living, but they could earn several taels of silver from them each year.

In previous years, they sold to merchants at seven or eight coins a jin. This year, scattered street sales only fetched five coins a jin—hard work for little reward, and even then hard to sell.

With crowds of villagers flooding the county town and hawking apples everywhere, her family decided to just give a bunch away instead.

Better to earn some goodwill than feel pained by low prices.

And if nothing went wrong, her husband Yan Shengli was likely to become the next village chief of Wuligou.

Qin Jin nodded in understanding after hearing her explanation.

He stared at the apple in his hand, a new idea forming. “Sister-in-law, let me pay for a few jin.”

“What kind of talk is that? They’re not worth much. Just take them and eat.” Huang Chunlan waved it off—after all, she was already accepting a favor from the young man. No way she’d take his money too.

“Sister-in-law, I’m thinking of using the apples to make something edible,” Qin Jin explained with a smile. “I plan to sell it, so I can’t just take yours for free.”

“Something edible? What can you make from apples?” Huang Chunlan asked curiously.

Yan Xiang looked over too.

“It’s called hawthorn, but whether it works or not, I’m not sure yet. I only heard about it, so I need to try it first at home.”

“Hawthorn?”

Huang Chunlan didn’t know what that was, but thinking of Qin Jin’s pea cakes and thousand-layer pumpkin pancakes, she figured this fruit hawthorn wouldn’t be bad either.

A smile formed on her face. “Since you’re just trying it out, I definitely can’t take your money. You go ahead and try it. If it turns out well, then come back and buy more.”

They weren’t aiming to make much money this year—just hoped to work a little less.

Besides, selling apples was taking time away from work in the fields. Last time her brothers came to deliver apples, they couldn’t hide their worry, and she’d felt anxious ever since.

If Qin Jin could really help her family find an outlet for the apples, she’d certainly remember his kindness.

Qin Jin wanted to refuse again, but then Yan Xiang also spoke up and told him to take them to try.

Since both were being sincere, Qin Jin no longer insisted. He took half a basket of apples home.

In truth, whether or not the hawthorn worked didn’t really matter. His stall had only been open for about a month—not long—and the public was still curious about the pea cakes.

But building goodwill with Huang Chunlan was definitely worth it.

She was likely to be the next village chief’s wife, after all—it made sense to strengthen ties.

He had just bought sugar yesterday, so he had all the ingredients he needed at home. Once back, he started making hawthorn.

Zhao Feng grabbed a small shovel and went to the fields, and Qin An followed along—it made it easier to fool Zhu Erhong.

Many kinds of fruit could be used to make hawthorn roll—it didn’t have to be something specific. He washed the apples, cut them into chunks, removed the cores, added sugar, then poured in a small amount of water and put them on the stove to cook.

While cooking, he used a rolling pin to mash the apples into puree. There was no blender here, so he had to rely on this old-fashioned method.

When the puree could cling to the rolling pin, it was ready.

He moved the dining table out into the yard, laid oil paper on it, poured the apple puree on top, and spread it out. It shouldn’t be too thin—if it was, it’d be hard to peel off once dried and might tear. It would also be too chewy, affecting the texture.

In this weather, one day of sun-drying would be enough. If dried too long, too much moisture would be lost, and the texture would suffer.

“That simple?” Ye Miao looked at the apple puree spread on the table, somewhat in disbelief.

“Not sure if it’ll work yet. Let’s just dry it and see.” It was Qin Jin’s first time too, so he wasn’t very confident.

He went into the kitchen and got a food cover to place over the apple puree. Seeing Ye Miao still standing beside the table, peeking from all angles, he couldn’t help but laugh. Wrapping an arm around Ye Miao’s shoulders, he guided him inside. “Come on in and take a break.”

It was almost evening before they realized it—time had passed so quickly.  

Ye Miao was suddenly pulled into Qin Jin’s embrace, and his attention immediately shifted away from the hawthorn. In broad daylight, he was… he was hugging him?  

Like a guilty thief, he immediately looked back—the courtyard gate was wide open!  

At that moment, there was naturally no one at the entrance. He withdrew his gaze and tilted his small face up to look at Qin Jin, just as Qin Jin also looked over. 

Their eyes met, and Ye Miao immediately reached out and hugged Qin Jin tightly around the waist.  

Since his Brother Jin was the one who made the move, he naturally had to respond.  

Blinking, he said, “Last time, the burlap cloth Mother gave me—I made a pair of pants. Want to try them on?”  

“Okay,” Qin Jin nodded.  

“And the underwear you mentioned—I finished that too.”  

As soon as he said that, Ye Miao didn’t dare look at Qin Jin anymore. His gaze locked onto Qin Jin’s chin.  

Qin Jin understood what his little husband meant.  

Ever since that night when he had kissed Ye Miao, the latter had become bolder. 

The very next evening, after the oil lamp was extinguished, he had taken the initiative to kiss him—and by pure chance, had landed right on his lips.  

Qin Jin planned to spend his life with his little husband. Since Ye Miao had become so proactive, how could he push him away? That night, he kissed him back.  

These past few nights, they kissed before going to sleep. Seeing his little husband like this now, he smiled and pulled him into an even tighter hug. “Alright. You can help me try them on.”