Both meat broth and egg custard rely heavily on the natural flavor of the ingredients. The seasoning makes a huge difference in the taste. Previously, no matter how much seasoning was added to meat broth, there was always a faint bitterness lingering, which, despite being masked to some extent, still surfaced upon savoring.

However, this bowl of egg custard was perfectly seasoned—moderately salty with a clean and savory aftertaste, nearly devoid of any bitterness.

Xiao Jingzhao had watched Jiang Huai prepare the egg custard from start to finish, so he knew that only salt and sesame oil were added. Naturally, the seasoning’s key element had to be the salt.

“Isn’t it delicious?” Jiang Huai noticed Xiao Jingzhao speeding up as he ate the custard and couldn’t help but chuckle. He also hastened his own pace, savoring the soft and silky custard as it slid down his throat. The rich and delicate flavors were far superior to anything he had eaten before.

Jiang Huai didn’t think much about why his previous cooking didn’t taste as good. He assumed that the improved taste came solely from his advanced cooking techniques, without realizing that the quality of the salt itself was a significant factor.

After finishing half a bowl of custard, Jiang Huai glanced at the pot of brine still simmering on the stove. He was tempted to make another bowl but ultimately gave up. His stomach was already full, and since the wool business experiment needed funding, it wouldn’t do to spend too much. At least not until the experiment succeeded.

As Jiang Huai enjoyed his custard, Xiao Jingzhao silently calculated the value of refined salt and mentally raised the price again. He was convinced that once this salt hit the market, any wealthy family who tasted it would immediately notice the difference. Even if it were sold at a higher price, they wouldn’t hesitate to pay.

The only issue was that having Jiang Huai personally run the business might be too dangerous.

“What’s wrong? Do you want more?” Jiang Huai noticed Xiao Jingzhao staring at the empty bowl, lost in thought. Thinking he was still craving custard, Jiang Huai reached for another egg to prepare a second serving, even if it meant going without for himself.

“No, that’s not it.” Xiao Jingzhao stopped Jiang Huai and asked seriously, “If we can’t run the salt business ourselves, could we sell the method instead?”

Hearing this, Jiang Huai thought Xiao Jingzhao was joking. But seeing his earnest expression, Jiang Huai sighed. Brother Wei was so naive—he didn’t understand how treacherous the world could be!

Still, Jiang Huai couldn’t help but feel grateful. After all, Xiao Jingzhao had agreed to follow him to Anyuan Prefecture after a single night of contemplation about his “dream” story. Since then, Xiao Jingzhao had trusted his every word. If Xiao Jingzhao were not so honest and trusting, he might not have agreed so readily.

As the trusted party, Jiang Huai felt a responsibility to enlighten Xiao Jingzhao about the dangers of the world.

But a serious conversation didn’t seem appropriate in the kitchen. Jiang Huai took Xiao Jingzhao by the hand and led him to the inner room.

The room was sparsely furnished—a clean bed and two rickety stools. Jiang Huai suspected the stools might collapse if used without repair, so he opted to sit on the bed’s edge with Xiao Jingzhao.

“Brother Wei, I know you want to help me earn more money, but remember, life is what matters most,” Jiang Huai said solemnly. Aside from their odd position sitting on the bed, his expression and posture were very serious.

“Extracting salt isn’t technically difficult. If we sell the method and meet a good person, they might pay us a little. But if we ask for too much, they’ll feel cheated. Then they might target us. Wealthy buyers who can afford the method could easily make life difficult for us if they wanted to.”

“The worst-case scenario is that they take the method, realize it’s simple, and then kill us to prevent competition. That’s also very likely.”

Of course, the primary reason Jiang Huai was reluctant to sell the method was that they weren’t at their wit’s end yet. If they were truly desperate, he might have considered selling it. But as long as they had other options, he would avoid such a risky path.

Jiang Huai suspected that Xiao Jingzhao’s fixation on the salt purification method stemmed from a lack of security. After all, their current situation involved dwindling resources and only the uncertain wool business to rely on.

“Don’t worry. I promised you wouldn’t go hungry or cold, and I’ll keep that promise. If worst comes to worst, I’ll set up a roadside stall selling food. This salt is pretty good—I could make a decent living out of it,” Jiang Huai said confidently. Although he trusted his memory, he still prepared a backup plan, knowing that turning wool into yarn and then into sweaters involved a lot of work.

Xiao Jingzhao had followed Jiang Huai to Anyuan Prefecture partly to look after him and prevent mishaps and partly to establish a legitimate reason for staying under his current identity. How long he would stay by Jiang Huai’s side remained uncertain, but seeing Jiang Huai’s determination to take care of him made Xiao Jingzhao feel less inclined to leave. Perhaps staying a while longer wouldn’t be so bad.

The next day, Jiang Huai began experimenting with wool. He remembered the steps to turn wool into yarn: washing, drying, carding, combing, spinning, and winding. Each step was crucial. While he didn’t aim for the yarn to match modern standards, it at least had to be comfortable to the touch to sell.

Despite his theoretical knowledge, putting it into practice was extremely challenging. Washing, drying, and carding the wool were tedious but manageable. However, spinning the wool into yarn left Jiang Huai stumped—he had no prior experience, let alone with spinning wool.

Even if he wanted to learn, it would take time. And as a beginner, his clumsy attempts wouldn’t yield insights into the problems with the process. He needed someone skilled for this task.

But first, he needed more wool. Jiang Huai hadn’t expected six pounds of wool to be used up so quickly. Fortunately, the used wool wasn’t entirely wasted; he could repurpose it as padding to make the bed warmer.

Heading to the village outside the city to buy more wool, Jiang Huai knew he couldn’t go alone. If danger struck, he’d be helpless. Naturally, Xiao Jingzhao would accompany him.

They left the city and asked for directions to Bentou Village, which was about fifteen miles from Anyuan Prefecture.

At first, Jiang Huai didn’t feel much during the walk. But after a while, the strain of traveling on foot reminded him how grueling it was. Just ten days ago, he had been journeying on the road, walking even farther. Back then, he had been used to it. Now, however, his legs protested.

Pushing through the discomfort, they reached Bentou Village. From a distance, Jiang Huai spotted a large tree near the village entrance with a house built underneath it. That must be where the boy lived.

Only then did Jiang Huai realize he had forgotten to ask the boy’s name. He’d have to ask later—conducting business without even knowing a client’s name felt inappropriate.

As they approached, Jiang Huai heard faint coughing and the boy’s voice coming from inside. Relieved that they were home, he knocked on the courtyard gate. The voices paused, and a weak female voice called out, “Who is it?”

“Mother, rest. I’ll check.”

A skinny boy emerged from the house, his expression wary. He was startled to see two men at the gate but quickly recognized Jiang Huai, his face lighting up with joy.

Jiang Huai had mentioned he might buy wool. The boy had wanted to share the news with his mother but had hesitated, unsure if Jiang Huai would return. Days had passed with no sign of him, and the boy had nearly lost hope. Yet here he was.

“Jiang Gongzi, you’re here to…” The boy’s voice trailed off as he remembered the manners he’d overheard from others. He quickly changed his tone. “Please, come in. I’ll make you some tea.”

The boy welcomed them into the house. Hearing the commotion, a pale woman stepped out, her movements slow but graceful. She paused upon seeing two young men.

“Mother, the wind outside is strong. Please, go back inside and rest,” the boy urged, carrying out tea as he gently ushered her back.

“It’s fine,” the woman replied with a soft smile. Despite her illness, her delicate beauty was evident. “Guests have come—I can’t leave you to host them alone.”

The woman introduced herself as He Shi and her son as Luo Yuan. Turning to Jiang Huai and Xiao Jingzhao, she hesitated over how to address them.

“I’m Jiang Huai, and this is Wei Xi,” Jiang Huai introduced himself, stating their purpose—they were here to buy wool.

Hearing this, He Shi’s face showed slight surprise but no delay. She promptly led them to a small storeroom.

Though the storeroom wasn’t large, it held a significant amount of wool. The smell was unpleasant, but Jiang Huai, after days of working with wool, had grown accustomed to it.

As He Shi carefully observed them, she noticed Jiang Huai’s indifference to the smell and relaxed slightly, reassured that they were genuine buyers.

Confirming their sincerity, He Shi began introducing the wool and asked how much they needed.

“Twenty pounds will do,” Jiang Huai replied after calculating. It should be enough for a while. For larger purchases, he’d hire a cart to avoid carrying it by hand.

While twenty pounds wasn’t much, it meant a lot to He Shi. Since they couldn’t make felt mats anymore, selling even a little wool helped recover some costs.

Knowing Jiang Huai was serious about buying, He Shi fetched a mesh net for carrying. The net seemed sturdy and was made from wool thread—a discovery that left Jiang Huai startled.

Did they already know how to spin wool into thread?

Panic set in as Jiang Huai recalled his business plans. If wool sweaters were already commonplace, wouldn’t his entire plan be doomed? His heart sank, sweat forming on his forehead.

“This thread is made from wool, but it’s very strong—it won’t break,” He Shi assured him.

“Wool thread?” Xiao Jingzhao repeated, noticing Jiang Huai’s unusual silence.

“Yes, it’s spun from wool. If you’re worried, you can test its strength,” He Shi explained eagerly.

Realizing his initial panic was premature, Jiang Huai calmed himself. The thread was rough and uneven, far from the refined yarn he had in mind. Clearly, their techniques weren’t advanced. His plan was still feasible.

“Did you spin this thread yourself?” Jiang Huai asked.

He Shi nodded, explaining that while wool spinning was rare in Da Zhou, the technique was common among the grassland tribes. Her method came from them but was rudimentary.

Jiang Huai carefully examined the thread and realized its uneven quality confirmed it wasn’t widely used in Da Zhou. However, He Shi’s skill at producing uniform threads hinted at her experience.

Realizing he needed a skilled spinner, Jiang Huai’s mind raced. Why not hire He Shi? She could handle the spinning process he lacked the skill for.

“He Shi, would you consider working for me as a spinner?” Jiang Huai asked.

Shocked by the sudden offer, He Shi hesitated, torn between the tempting pay and her responsibilities at home. However, her son Luo Yuan eagerly volunteered, demonstrating his skill at the spinning wheel to prove his worth.

Jiang Huai, impressed by the boy’s talent, agreed to hire him. Though reluctant to part with her son, He Shi ultimately allowed him to go, reassured by Jiang Huai’s promise to visit regularly for more wool.

As they prepared to leave, Jiang Huai noticed the village head observing them from afar. After confirming their purpose, the head warmly welcomed Jiang Huai’s business. For the impoverished village, selling wool offered a rare opportunity for prosperity.

As they returned to the city, Jiang Huai couldn’t help but feel optimistic. Though the road ahead was long, he was one step closer to realizing his plan.