Chapter 15: Divine Tofu

When they returned home, Song Miaomiao took out everything she had bought that day to show Wang Guifang.

She felt a little uneasy during the process.

She was afraid Wang Guifang would scold her for spending money recklessly, but Wang Guifang didn’t blame her in the slightest.

Just as she had said before, the money was earned by Miaomiao—she could spend it however she liked. In fact, Wang Guifang wished she could earn more herself to give her daughter to spend.

When she found out that Miaomiao had given something to Uncle Wang’s family, Wang Guifang nodded. “Your Uncle Wang’s family has helped us a lot. It’s only right. I’ll make some braised pork later and send them a bowl too.”

Song Miaomiao nodded and took out the cotton cloth. “Mother, I plan to use this to make inner garments. It should be enough for four sets—two for you and two for me.”

She knew how to sew. Even in the wealthy Song family, women were expected to learn household skills, including sewing their own wedding dresses.

Wang Guifang shook her head. “No need. I’m used to wearing linen. Use it all for yourself. One bolt of cloth is enough to make two sets of clothes.”

She couldn’t let Song Miaomiao keep wearing Qingqing’s old clothes forever.

But Song Miaomiao couldn’t bring herself to wear warm cotton clothes while letting her mother wear rough linen. Seeing Wang Guifang’s insistence, she didn’t argue anymore—she would be the one making the clothes anyway.

At noon, Wang Guifang made braised pork and also used the tofu from the Wang family to make a tofu soup.

After sending some braised pork to the Wang family, Wang Guifang came back looking worried. Song Miaomiao quickly asked what was wrong.

“Your Uncle Wang’s family is having a hard time with their tofu business lately. I heard several others have started selling tofu and are stealing customers.”

“Tofu is made the day before and sold the next day. If it doesn’t sell, the soybeans are wasted. It’s really stressful.”

Although the Wang family sold tofu, they weren’t exactly wealthy.

Even though they made less each day, the leftovers kept increasing.

If things kept going like this, the business wouldn’t last long.

Song Miaomiao remembered that there was still a third of the tofu left on the cart when they came back. She fell silent.

If even tofu couldn’t sell well, then her small menu business would be even harder.

Gathering wild mushrooms depended on the weather, too. If she wanted a better life, she needed a more stable source of income.

…

That afternoon, Wang Guifang took a hoe and went out to reclaim a few acres of wild land.

Now that the family had no debts, she didn’t have to go work for Song Dayong or Song Eryong. If she cleared the land this year, she could start planting next year.

Song Miaomiao didn’t go. Instead, she took out the cotton cloth she had just bought, cut out the pattern for inner garments with scissors, and began sewing.

Suddenly, she felt a dull ache in her abdomen. Her heart sank—she quickly stuffed the menstrual pad with the cotton she had bought and silently began to pray.

“Please let it be a farming transmigration novel this time.”

Every time her period came, she would enter a story. But previously, it had always been unhelpful stories—like going back to 1998 to play the stock market, or becoming a female in a sci-fi world.

The stories were entertaining, but completely useless to her.

As soon as she felt the warm flow in her body, she focused her mind to sense the presence of a book.

The moment she saw the lush, picturesque cover, she felt a surge of hope.

This time, it might really work.

She stopped sewing.

Closing her eyes, she skimmed through the entire story at lightning speed. Two hours later, she had finished reading the whole novel.

When she opened her eyes, they were bright with excitement. She grabbed her basket and headed straight into the mountains.

She had found a way to make money.

Immortal Tofu!

A kind of tofu made using tree leaves and plant ash.

Bright green and appealing, refreshing and thirst-quenching—perfect for the scorching summer weather.

And this time, the original story’s protagonist was a kind person who even provided an illustration of the “Immortal Leaf.”

Up in the mountains, Song Miaomiao searched for the Immortal Leaf based on the mental image she had, while also collecting mushrooms and wild fruits from the bushes along the way.

Since she was already up the mountain, she figured she’d gather whatever she could. She wasn’t picky.

But after an entire hour, she had picked several mushrooms but still hadn’t found the Immortal Leaf described in the story.

“Huh? Is that it?”

Suddenly, standing on tiptoe and clutching a tree trunk, she spotted a plant on a hillside that looked very similar.

There was a faint fragrance in the air, which also matched the description of the Immortal Leaf’s unique scent.

But the slope was covered in thick greenery, and who knew what might be lurking inside? Plus, below the slope was a rushing river—it looked a little scary.

“Hmm…”

Song Miaomiao clenched her fists. “Endure hardship to rise above the rest.”

She broke off a stick and used it to beat around in the slope, just in case there were snakes.

She also poked the ground to confirm it was solid before carefully stepping in.

Soon, she reached the tree that she suspected bore the Immortal Leaf. She plucked one and compared it to the image in her mind.

A 90% match.

Perfect.

She decided to pick all of them and test it out at home.

Wanting to leave the dangerous area as quickly as possible, she worked quickly, gathering all the leaves into her basket in no time.

After about half an hour, she had filled the entire bamboo basket and made it back up the slope without incident.

“Whew, that was terrifying.”

Wiping the sweat from her forehead, Song Miaomiao looked at her full basket of Immortal Leaves and beamed with joy.

But even though her goal was already accomplished, she didn’t rush back. Instead, she lingered around the spot where Lu Zheng had saved her before.

She waited for a long time but didn’t see Lu Zheng. Disappointed, she turned and headed back down the mountain.

When she neared home, she saw a skinny figure from a distance seemingly trying to climb over their courtyard wall.

She immediately shouted.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The person didn’t even turn around—startled like a thief, he ran off quickly.

Song Miaomiao turned pale. Seeing that the main door was still locked, she knew Wang Guifang hadn’t returned yet.

She didn’t dare enter alone and decided to wait by the door.

Li Caixia, who had just finished washing clothes in the river, happened to pass by and saw her standing in the blazing sun without going inside. She asked what had happened.

Song Miaomiao told her everything. Li Caixia’s expression immediately turned furious.

“Go in. That was probably one of those loafers in the village who idle around and steal chickens.”

“You were carrying so much stuff back yesterday—someone probably took notice.”

“Your house is a bit isolated, and there aren’t any neighbors nearby to keep an eye out. Back when your family had no money, no one cared, but now it’d be better if your mother bought a dog for protection.”

Song Miaomiao: Compared to getting a dog, she actually wanted to change houses more. During the last rain, the main hall and both bedrooms had leaked.

But repairing or rebuilding a house would cost at least several dozen, possibly over a hundred taels of silver—a heavy burden that, for the current Song Miaomiao, felt like a distant and daunting goal.

With Li Caixia accompanying her, Song Miaomiao went into the house. She checked through the things she had bought the previous day and finally let out a sigh of relief when she saw that nothing was missing.

It seemed the thief hadn’t managed to get inside in time.

Seeing there was no danger, Li Caixia left with her basin of clothes. Before leaving, she even thanked Song Miaomiao again for the food she had shared that morning.

Song Miaomiao quickly said it was nothing—it was only right.

After she was gone, Song Miaomiao locked the door.

She found a thick stick to keep by her side for protection, then fetched water from the vat to wash the Immortal Leaves.

Really, such water-intensive work should be done by the river. Hauling water back was no easy task. But right now, Song Miaomiao didn’t dare leave the house—she feared the thief might come back.

Just as she finished washing the leaves, she heard a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” she called, gripping the big stick. Her mother should have a key.

“It’s me, Lu Zheng.”

The deep male voice came through the wooden door and immediately brightened Song Miaomiao’s eyes. She rushed to the door and opened it, her tone laced with surprise and joy.

“Brother Lu!”