The key to making tofu is curdling the soy milk properly—once you master the right amount, failure becomes nearly impossible.

Some people can grasp the precise measurement after just a few tries, no matter how much soy milk they have, they can always add the perfect amount of coagulant.

Others, even if they use the exact same amount of soy milk each time, still struggle to get it right.

It’s just like cooking—some people can spend hours making a dish that’s clean and hygienic but ends up tasteless.

There was only one pot, so they couldn’t all practice at once.

The eldest daughter-in-law, who was responsible for cooking, tried nervously with trembling hands.

The others planned to try later—after all, Shen Qing had her own things to do and couldn’t stay here wasting time.

Shen Qing continued her live demonstration:
“Once the soy milk curdles into tofu pudding, scoop it into a piece of gauze, wrap it up, and press it with a wooden board. It doesn’t need to be too heavy—pressing it for about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea will turn it into tofu.

This is soft tofu. If you place a stone on the wooden board to squeeze out all the moisture, then you get firm tofu.

Typically, one jin (about 500g) of soybeans can make five to six jin of soft tofu, but only two to two and a half jin of firm tofu. Adjust your production and pricing based on your daily sales.”

“Wow! We can sell firm tofu too?” The seventh child, Jiang Dabo, looked at Shen Qing with bright eyes.

At sixteen or seventeen years old, he was full of dreams about making money from selling tofu.

Shen Qing smiled and replied, “Not just firm tofu! This unpressed version is tofu pudding—just add a spoonful of soy sauce and a sprinkle of green onions, and in town, it sells for two wen per bowl.

And the thin layer of skin that forms on top when boiling soy milk? That’s incredibly nutritious! Once dried, it’s easy to store and can be eaten cold, in egg soup, or stir-fried. Don’t you think that could sell too?”

There were many soy-based products—at least a dozen—but for now, they were just getting started, and practicality was the priority.

Jiang Dabo swallowed his saliva without realizing it.

Then, afraid that he looked too greedy and wasn’t paying attention, he quickly nodded and said loudly, “Sister-in-law, you’re amazing!”

Their second uncle had warned them only to ask about tofu and not anything else. Listen more, watch more, and speak less—Jiang Dabo remembered this well!

Shen Qing felt proud but remained humble on the surface. After giving some additional instructions, she bid farewell and went home.

As soon as she left, the Jiang family sprang into action.

Watching the chaotic scene of everyone running around like headless chickens, Zhao Mingyue shouted in a strong voice:

“Eldest and second, go to town and buy soybeans! Take the cart and buy plenty. Also, get some gauze and slaked lime. Better to buy extra than too little.

Eldest daughter-in-law and second daughter-in-law, soak the soybeans at home.

We’ll get up before dawn to grind soy milk and make tofu.

See how long it takes, and if we miss the early market, we’ll have to wake up even earlier next time.

Third, take some silver and pick up the wooden trough from Carpenter Guan.

Your sister-in-law ordered it—check if it’s ready, and if not, ask how much longer it’ll take.

Everyone else, do whatever you need to do—just stay out of the kitchen!”

As soon as Zhao Mingyue finished speaking, the family scattered, each person busy with their tasks.

She looked at the finished tofu—this was made by Shen Qing using two jin of soybeans. She estimated it weighed about eleven jin.

Tofu was a precious thing. In the village, people usually only bought a jin or two for special occasions like New Year’s, simmering it slowly with fish.

By the time it was done, the tofu would be even tastier than the fish!

She then turned to Jiang Dabo and instructed:

“Take a bowl and bring two jin to your second uncle, and another two jin to your fifth uncle. After that, deliver four jin to your sister-in-law’s house. If she doesn’t want it, just leave it and run, got it?”

Keeping three jin for themselves was more than enough.

Besides, there were also the less perfect pieces—not as good in texture, but still edible. Food that filled the stomach should never be wasted.

..

Jiang Yu’s injured leg was wrapped in ointment, fixed with wooden splints, and secured with cloth strips.

Her eldest nephew, Jiang Xiangdong, had even cut her a wooden cane.

Using it for support, she slowly walked into the courtyard.

This time, coming home felt both familiar and completely different.

The thatched cottage, plastered with yellow mud, was still the same.

The courtyard was the same too—small houses surrounding a large yard.

The ground was still packed dirt, turning to mud inside and out after a rain.

The kitchen stove still hadn’t been properly built, so cooking still meant squatting. There was no table, so everyone either squatted around the large iron pot or sat on the ground to eat.

But at the same time, everything felt different.

In the past, Jiang Xiangdong never made anything for her voluntarily. Just now, she had even seen him skillfully changing a baby’s diaper.

Huo Bing used to always wear a worried frown. Even when she smiled, her eyes were full of sorrow. But now, her smile was bright and relaxed.

Jiang Shui, who used to argue with his younger brothers and fight with his older brothers like a porcupine constantly raising its quills in defense, now seemed much gentler.

And the other family members—even Guan Li—were busy around the house.

“You see how lucky your little aunt is?” Shen Qing teased. “As soon as she comes home, we get two free ducks and four jin of tofu!”

“They must have known Auntie was coming home and wanted to help her recover.”

“I get to enjoy a feast thanks to Auntie!”

Jiang Yu’s eyes welled up with emotion.

She knew it was Shen Qing’s efforts that had made this possible, yet her sister-in-law credited it to her.

“I…”

“Auntie, how do you want to eat the tofu? I’ll cook it tonight,” Huo Bing asked.

Jiang Yu suddenly felt embarrassed.

Everyone was working hard, while she was just freeloading.

Especially since Huo Bing had only recently given birth—how could she let her sister-in-law cook for her?

She quickly said, “I’ll do the cooking from now on! And the laundry, and the cleaning…”

Huo Bing chuckled. “Auntie, I can’t touch cold water, but I can still cook—are you really going to fight me for it? Besides, your leg is injured. Squatting by the stove wouldn’t be convenient for you.”

Jiang Yu nervously looked at Shen Qing and hesitantly asked, “Sister-in-law, what work can I do? My leg doesn’t affect me—I can still work just fine!”

She was a divorced woman, and Shen Qing had already been kind enough to take her in.

How could she just eat for free and expect to be taken care of?

Shen Qing understood that Jiang Yu wanted to prove her worth through hard work.

Instead of assigning her a task right away, she said, “Later, your nephews and nieces will be making calligraphy brushes. Watch them work and see which step you’re best suited for—then you can join in.”

Jiang Yu was stunned for a moment, then beamed with excitement. “Okay!”

Shen Qing reminded her, “Don’t overwork yourself. In this house, health comes first. Take care of your leg.”

She was like a little hamster—hoarding money, hoarding food, and even hoarding people. But those people needed to be healthy.

“I understand, Sister-in-law,” Jiang Yu replied obediently.

She was starting to see Shen Qing’s way of doing things—her sister-in-law didn’t need endless laborers.

She needed family members who could contribute without causing trouble.

She wasn’t particularly skilled, but she would follow Shen Qing’s lead, do whatever was needed, and never let her sister-in-law worry.