12. The earnings were actually not much.

Qin Jin hesitated for two seconds, and at this moment, the young gentleman's eyes immediately brightened. "There must be some left, right?"

"I'm not sure," Qin Jin replied.

He had saved one jin at home. It was still before noon, but if Ye Miao prepared lunch early, that jin of dried tofu sheets might be gone.

After explaining this, the young gentleman thought for a moment and asked, "Brother, where do you live?"

"Just ahead in Wuligou."

"If it's convenient, could you take me there to recognize your place? In case I still can't make it tomorrow, I can buy from you at home," the young gentleman said.

"Alright." Qin Jin nodded.

That made sense. This business was meant to be long-term; it was necessary to let the villagers from ten or eight li around recognize his home.

So Qin Jin set aside his plan to buy meat and led the young gentleman toward Wuligou.

The young gentleman was quite talkative and soon shared his family situation. His name was Gu Nan; his wife's family came from Wangjiatun, which was fairly well-off.

Wangjiatun was seven or eight li from the county seat—not far, but Wuligou was to the southwest of the county, while Wangjiatun lay southeast. Qin Jin wasn’t familiar with that area.

He wasn’t good at chatting, but since he recently wanted to buy peas from the countryside, he casually asked if anyone in Wangjiatun grew peas.

"My family does," Gu Nan said with a surprised yet smiling face. "My father-in-law loves to drink with peas—whether fresh or dried, he likes them all. So we plant a few acres every year."

Qin Jin immediately asked, "Brother Gu, do you sell your peas? I can offer the same price as the grain shop."

If the price was too low, farmers wouldn’t sell.

His purchase price matched the grain shop’s. Though it didn’t save much money at first glance, cutting out the middleman meant a significant saving.

Even if the price was just a fraction cheaper per jin, for ten jin, it could save a wen; for a thousand jin, that amounted to a hundred wen—a considerable sum.

"I’ll ask my father-in-law. The fresh peas are almost ready, and we still have three sacks at home," Gu Nan said.

"Thanks in advance, Brother Gu. If your father-in-law is willing to sell, I’ll come by with a cart to pick them up."

If farmers sold directly, they’d have to deliver to the grain shop themselves. If he was willing to come and collect, with the price equal, farmers would prefer to sell to him.

Gu Nan agreed.

The two soon entered the village. Upon arriving home, Ye Miao was preparing lunch.

After breakfast and tidying up, he had planned to go with Zhao Feng to grind the wheat and corn they had sifted yesterday into flour. Unexpectedly, Qin Jin had instructed Wang Xiuqin last night to watch him closely, forbidding him from doing heavy work.

He was stopped by Wang Xiuqin this morning, which secretly pleased him. Recently, they mostly ate vegetables, and Wang Xiuqin had just given him three eggs. He planned to make a somewhat elaborate lunch: big dumplings.

The household had plenty of wild vegetables; there were still many tender dandelions he had picked yesterday. He intended to make dandelion and egg dumplings.

Speaking of which, dried tofu sheets didn’t taste like tofu but more like meat. He planned to cut that jin of dried tofu sheets to use as filling.

When Qin Jin returned, Ye Miao had already chopped the dandelions and was about to cut the dried tofu sheets.

Gu Nan immediately waved his hand, saying he would come back tomorrow. Today he was delayed by his children; besides his own two, his brother’s youngest was also at his house. With so many children, it was noisy, so he had started late.

He promised to come early tomorrow and asked Qin Jin to reserve three jin of dried tofu sheets for him.

Ye Miao felt a bit embarrassed, but the dried tofu sheets had already been washed and placed on the cutting board; they really couldn’t be sold again.

Gu Nan didn’t mind, smiling and saying he’d return tomorrow. He also mentioned that some other families in Wangjiatun grew peas, and he could help inquire.

Hearing this, Qin Jin wanted to give the remaining half jin of pea cakes as a token of thanks.

Thinking of his own three children and the others, he asked how much pea cake was left in total.

Qin Jin kept two jin of pea cakes, sold one jin, and had one jin remaining. He left twenty wen and bought the remaining one and a half jin.

"Brother Gu seems like a good person," Ye Miao said.

"Yes, quite generous," Qin Jin nodded, then handed him the bulging money pouch. "Count it."

"So much?" Ye Miao held the pouch with both hands, pleasantly surprised.

"Not really that much."

Fourteen jin of pea cakes, after sampling, brought nearly a hundred wen profit.

Twenty-five jin of dried tofu sheets, totaling 150 sheets—after using ten sheets for tasting, 140 remained, worth 140 wen.

Subtracting 120 wen in costs, the profit from dried tofu sheets today was 20 wen.

Ye Miao was stunned, disbelief written all over his face. The pouch was almost bursting, yet the profit from so many dried tofu sheets was only 20 wen?

"Samples cost a lot, but without them, sales would slow," Qin Jin explained. He preferred to earn a few less copper coins and offer samples. The heat made dried tofu sheets hard to store; it was better to sell them early.

Besides, today was special. Zhang Qifu and his wife had discounted twelve wen, but that tofu pudding went to their own family.

Also, these first few days were just a trial run; production was low. Future sales of dried tofu sheets would certainly increase, easily earning fifty wen a day.

Ye Miao puffed up his cheeks. If calculated this way, plus the pea cakes, their daily earnings could reach 150 wen?

"Not satisfied?" Qin Jin looked at his fair, tender face and couldn’t help but ask.

"I thought we’d be making a fortune daily," Ye Miao muttered softly.

Dried tofu sheets were simple to make but delicious, tasting like meat—what a wonderful food.

Qin Jin chuckled. "This is already very good. At this pace, we can repay our debts early and even afford to buy some meat now and then."

Before, earning a hundred wen a day, he felt embarrassed to buy meat.

The family owed debts, and since they lived near the old courtyard, even if they secretly bought meat, unless steamed in a pot, the aroma would surely waft to the neighbors.

Then Wang Xiuqin would inevitably nag them.

Moreover, he didn’t want to eat secretly. Old Qin and Wang Xiuqin treated him well, and Qin Bing and his wife were also kind. If the household’s diet improved, they definitely wanted to share it with the old courtyard folks.

Hearing this, Ye Miao weighed the pouch again and nodded.

He was just too greedy.

Before marriage, this was a dream he couldn’t even dare to dream of. He stuck out his tongue and smiled sheepishly at Qin Jin. "I’ll count it after I eat."

He said this while carrying the money pouch into the house.

"Make another money pouch; this one’s too small. Tomorrow, we’ll make more dried tofu sheets," Qin Jin added.

"Okay," Ye Miao agreed.

After putting away the pouch, he immediately washed his hands and went into the kitchen. Now he had to hurry and prepare lunch.

Dumplings were troublesome, and with Qin Jin back, he couldn’t let him wait hungry.

Qin Jin washed his hands and also entered the kitchen; Zhao Feng had gone to gather firewood. Dumplings were delicate work; Ye Miao couldn’t handle it alone.

Besides, it was a chance to build camaraderie.

Qin Jin spent the morning selling at the stall and the afternoon working in the fields; only mealtimes allowed chatting with the young gentleman.

Qin Jin wanted to help. Ye Miao tried to persuade him otherwise but gave in when he saw Qin Jin was determined.

Ye Miao rolled dumpling wrappers quickly; Qin Jin wrapped the dumplings. These dumplings weren’t boiled but steamed, each about the size of Ye Miao’s palm.

Their size made them quick to prepare; more than thirty large dumplings were wrapped in no time.

They placed millet in the pot, then steamed the dumplings.

When Zhao Feng returned with dry firewood, the dumplings were just done. He prepared a chili dipping sauce, and the three ate dumplings and porridge, thoroughly satisfied.

After the meal, Qin Jin pocketed two hundred wen and went to Zhang Qi’s house.

Zhang Qi and his wife were delighted to see him. "Ah, sales nearly doubled today! The dried tofu sheets are selling so well."

Hearing Qin Jin say the dried tofu sheets could be chopped and made into dumplings, they even urged him to make more. They intended to buy some for dumplings tomorrow.

Qin Jin didn’t use tofu pudding to make tofu. If they wanted tofu, they should buy from them. Since that was the case, they’d also buy dried tofu sheets from Qin Jin.

Remembering Gu Nan’s words, Qin Jin asked the couple how much tofu pudding and tofu they could make daily.

It was now busy farming season, so they couldn’t set up stalls at the city gate. Zhang Qi’s family made seventy to eighty jin of tofu daily; Shen Yucheng’s younger brother took thirty jin, and the rest were sold at home.

During the off-season, they could make about 150 jin daily.

If they didn’t need to sell in stalls and didn’t worry about unsold goods, they could produce two hundred jin a day.

Subtracting their own needs, they could supply Qin Jin with 120 jin of tofu daily, which was roughly equivalent to 360 jin of tofu pudding.

This was their maximum capacity.

After all, their stone mill and stove were limited. Even with a mule to grind soybeans, it couldn’t be sped up much. They couldn’t just whip the mule.

They simply couldn’t bring themselves to do that.

Hearing this, Qin Jin went back for another fifty wen. Though the situation looked promising, he couldn’t rush. It was only the third day of trial; the future was uncertain.

They had to proceed step by step.

Zhang Qi and his wife had no objections. Their family was making money regardless, and they hoped Qin Jin’s business would continue steadily for a long time.

After leaving Zhang’s, Qin Jin went to the old courtyard to fetch the cart and loaded the wheat and corn sifted yesterday onto it, preparing to go to the village entrance to grind flour.

There was a large stone mill at the village entrance, purchased collectively by the villagers, open for anyone’s use.

It was just past mealtime, the hottest part of the day, and no one was queuing—perfect time to grind flour.

Ye Miao naturally wanted to come along. He sent Zhao Feng home to rest and followed Qin Jin to the village entrance.

Upon arrival, someone was already at the stone mill.

Seeing that person, Qin Jin set down the cart and approached. "Brother An, go rest. I’ll take over."

The man was no stranger but Qin An, the original owner's cousin, an unmarried young man of considerable age.

Qin An was sturdier than most young men, taciturn, with delicate features, but had failed to secure a good match through Zhu Erhong and had become even less favored by her in recent years.

At noon, he was made to push the heavy stone mill alone. No one knew how long he had been at it; now he was drenched in sweat from head to face.