Chapter 75: Selling Tea Sets

Without the coarse rice, the porridge turned out thick and glutinous.

It even carried a hint of sweetness.

The side dish with the porridge was shredded mushrooms, briefly blanched in water.

Only a little lard and salt were added.

Light yet refreshing.

“Grandma, I trimmed the fat from this big basin of meat. When we render the fat, what should we do with the lean meat? Eat it all?”

Qian Xile asked Zhang Jinlan.

“It’s getting hot. I’m afraid raw meat left out overnight will spoil. Here’s what we’ll do: pick a small piece, and I’ll deliver it to the neighbor. She helped our family a lot recently and let you stay several days—even though you gave her eggs, we should repay her kindness.

The rest can be cooked in two portions. We’ll have some today to enjoy, and at noon, make wild vegetable dumplings. Later, we’ll collect more wild vegetables, and in the evening, stir-fry the remaining meat with salted vegetables. The salted vegetables are very salty—if we can’t finish it, it can be left until tomorrow.”

Zhang Jinlan explained thoughtfully to her granddaughter-in-law.

“Okay, I’ll go do that right now.”

Within fifteen minutes, she came back carrying a piece of meat.

The lean portion weighed only about half a pound.

A hole had been pierced through it with a straw, just enough to hold it by hand without getting greasy.

Seeing this, Zhang Jinlan drank the remaining porridge in one gulp, placed the bowl on the windowsill, and carried the meat out.

“Chunxia, sister, are you awake?”

The neighbor’s door was open.

Zhang Jinlan first called out before stepping inside.

“I’m awake, just about to eat breakfast. What’s up? Why are you here?”

Ma Chunxia came out of the kitchen, holding a bowl of thin coarse rice porridge.

“Well, yesterday the child went to town and happened to see the butcher cutting prices. Although it’s all lean meat, it was half the usual price. The child thought it was worth buying a pound, but he got back so late, it was already dark, so I didn’t want to disturb you. This morning, I’m delivering it—half for each of our families.”

Zhang Jinlan made up a casual explanation.

Then she handed over the meat with a smile.

“I don’t want it. Take it home. Such good meat—I can’t take it without earning it.”

Ma Chunxia waved her hands repeatedly, refusing to accept it.

“You let my granddaughter-in-law stay a few days, and I haven’t even thanked you yet. Don’t rush to refuse. Our families live close and see each other often. In the village, we get along well, so in the future, if I need your help, you must help me.”

After several words of persuasion, Ma Chunxia finally accepted it.

“All right, I won’t be polite. Don’t worry—in the future, if you need me, just ask. If I can help, I will.”

Ma Chunxia had always been warm-hearted, and Zhang Jinlan had brought meat as well.

“All right, you eat breakfast first. I’ll go back now.”

After Zhang Jinlan left, Ma Chunxia excitedly took the meat into the kitchen.

By noon, both households’ chimneys released the aroma of cooking meat.

“Grandma, what’s tea?”

After her nap, Jiang Fubao sat in the courtyard, swinging her little legs, and asked her grandmother.

“Fubao, where did you hear that?”

No one at home drank tea. Such a precious item—how would she know?

Zhang Jinlan was puzzled.

“Grandma, last time we went to town, you told me! You said it’s from a teahouse. Their tea costs a lot to buy. Did you forget?”

Fubao shook her head in disbelief. Grandma’s memory was terrible.

“Recently, I’ve been too busy. Tea is basically boiled water with dried leaves—it’s bitter. Fubao probably wouldn’t like it. I’ve never drunk it myself. There are no tea mountains here. I’ve heard that further south, there are many tea plants. Once picked and roasted, you steep it in water—the fragrance is wonderful. But only wealthy families can afford it. We can’t.”

Zhang Jinlan spoke gently.

“Grandma, Fubao saw a shop the other day with pretty small teapots and cups, decorated with flowers. Are they expensive?”

Fubao asked to lead up to her purpose.

“Well, certainly expensive! What you saw must be porcelain. Even plain, coarse porcelain is beyond our means, let alone the decorated kind—it probably sells for seven or eight taels of silver at least.”

Zhang Jinlan recalled the scene, sighing.

“Then Fubao, give it to Grandma. Wait until tomorrow morning, you’ll have it.”

Fubao smiled triumphantly, nodded, and ran to the backyard.

The chicks were at their cutest age, and she spent most of her time playing with them.

“This child…”

Watching her granddaughter so happy, Zhang Jinlan sighed helplessly.

Always letting the “immortal family” send things—who knew if they’d get angry?

Oh well. Let her be. A child wouldn’t know. Even if the immortals were angry and stopped sending gifts, it didn’t matter.

At least with the chickens, there was some income, and she had even saved some silver. Enough to eat properly.

That night, Jiang Fubao placed the tea set on the table in her room.

The next morning, she deliberately woke up late so Grandma would come call her into the room.

Once the door opened, Zhang Jinlan saw the tea set.

Even after seeing it many times, she still found it astonishing.

“Goodness, such a small teapot! The painted flowers look real. Beautiful! Surely it’s from the immortals. If sold, it could fetch a good amount of silver.”

Zhang Jinlan carefully held the teapot, afraid of dropping it.

“Grandma, will you sell it? Then sell it.”

This time, Fubao was generous. She had brought the tea set for the family to sell.

“All right. I was originally going to keep it since it’s Fubao’s first gift, but we can’t afford tea leaves anyway. We’ll sell it, and I’ll save the silver. Later, we can find a handsome young man for Fubao.”

After speaking, Zhang Jinlan carried the teapot out, leaving Fubao embarrassed.

Grandma thinks too much—she’s only three!

After a while, Zhang Jinlan prepared to go to town with her two sons.

Since the tea set was valuable, she had to bring her two fiercelooking sons, in case of robbery or trickery while selling it.

The youngest son, Jiang Siyin, wasn’t considered—they couldn’t rely on him.

Among the three sons, the youngest was the most handsome, but not intimidating—rather scholarly-looking.

Unfortunately, the family was poor. He could barely read a few words.

It was a shame—if he wore a fine robe and walked the streets, flicking a small fan, he could charm many girls.

Zhang Jinlan shook her head regretfully, giving her youngest a long, thoughtful glance.

Jiang Siyin was confused—had his mother gone silly with happiness?

“Grandma, I want to go too,” Jiang Fubao said proudly.

There were more bowls and plates in the space, all white porcelain. If they were valuable, she could slowly bring them out later.

But those had been used already.

Secondhand, she wasn’t sure if they’d sell.

So to check the market, she had to go along.