Shen Miao squatted there for a long time, carefully observing.
Aunt Li’s family had quite a few hens laying these chicks, so their feather colors and sizes varied slightly, all mixed together.
After selecting for a while, she finally caught a speckled chick.
Turning the chirping little bird over, she blew on the yellow, white, and black down near its rear, then took a glance at its vent.
A rooster’s vent would have a noticeable bump around it, whereas a hen’s would not—this one was a hen.
For egg-laying, hens were essential.
She chose this one and then picked out a white-feathered rooster chick as well—because Sister Xiang liked it.
It had no stray markings, even its tail feathers were pure white, and only its beak carried a small red comb.
Its bone structure was large, making it quite a handsome chick.
Then, she let Ji Ge pick one too.
He chose a chick with a completely yellow head.
After that, Shen Miao clapped her hands and stood up.
It was best not to raise too many at once.
In her past life, she had only slaughtered chickens but had never raised them.
These little chicks weren’t even as big as half her palm—what if she accidentally raised them to death?
Better to start with three and get some practice.
As Aunt Li stitched the soles of shoes, she watched Shen Miao and the others selecting chicks.
She raised an eyebrow and thought, this Shen girl knows how to pick!
She even knows how to tell males from females!
She then asked, “All picked out? Little hens are six wen each, little roosters are seven. Once that rooster grows up, if it can crow, you can sell it at the cattle and horse market for three hundred wen!”
Shen Miao had bought chicken meat before—an adult live chicken sold for seventy wen.
Ordinary chicks were sold at ten or eight wen each, while well-known breeds like Gushi chickens or Luhua chickens could go for over ten wen per chick.
Aunt Li’s chickens were likely just local breeds from Bianjing, probably interbred for generations, making it hard to classify them.
After careful observation, Shen Miao figured that the one Ji Ge picked barely met the criteria for a “Sanhuang Chicken”—yellow beak, yellow feathers, and yellow shanks, though it was smaller than the others.
Speaking of which, Sanhuang Chicken stew was truly delicious.
Shen Miao gazed at the little chick tenderly, as if she could already see it turning into a big pot of fresh chicken soup.
“I’m giving you a good price,” Aunt Li said, thinking Shen Miao was hesitating because of the cost.
“These chicks hatched over ten days ago, and every one of them is sturdy. Look at their rears, clean as can be—not a speck of droppings, no diarrhea. If you buy elsewhere and end up with a sickly chick, it might die in just two days.”
Shen Miao nodded.
Aunt Li’s prices were quite reasonable.
Since they were neighbors and it was already below market price, Shen Miao felt bad haggling further.
She simply took out some copper coins, counted out nineteen, and handed them to Aunt Li.
Then she placed the chicks into the small woven basket she had brought and prepared to head home.
Just as she was about to leave, Aunt Li suddenly remembered something and turned to Ji Ge with a smile.
“Oh, Ji Ge, are you not attending the private school run by Master Liu anymore? If you’re free at home these days, why not come over and help Gou’er review his lessons?
Your Uncle Li is always out and about, and I heard some news while out buying groceries today—Guozi Academy’s Biyong Institute will be holding its summer entrance exam next month!
Gou’er is still young, so I don’t expect him to pass, but it’s good to let him gain some experience.”
Even though she said that, Aunt Li’s expression was full of pride for her son.
Shen Miao’s mind stirred.
According to her predecessor’s memories, Guozi Academy had strict admission requirements.
She asked, “Isn’t Guozi Academy only open to children of officials ranked seventh grade or higher?”
“You’ve been away for three years, so you wouldn’t know—the rules have changed!”
Aunt Li, proud of her well-informed nature, lifted her chin slightly, as if she were the one who ran the academy.
“Listen, the government has implemented the Three-Tier System. Guozi Academy now has Upper, Middle, and Lower tiers, as well as Inner and Outer students. The Inner students are still limited to official families, but Outer students can enroll if they pass the summer exam.
Children of eighth-rank or lower officials, as well as commoners, are eligible! Outer students study at Biyong Institute in the southern suburbs, separate from the Inner students.”
Shen Miao’s eyes lit up.
“Do you know when the summer exam will be held?”
“Same as last year, likely in mid to late May.”
Aunt Li glanced at Ji Ge, then smirked meaningfully at Shen Miao.
“Are you thinking of letting Ji Ge take the exam? Then you’d better talk some sense into him and help him change his ways. Forgive me for speaking bluntly, but word has it that Ji Ge has been rather mediocre in Master Liu’s school these past two years.
Not only does he lack talent, but he’s also not diligent—he often sneaks off to the bookshop to read idle books all day long. If he keeps wasting time like this, it’ll be hard for him to enter Guozi Academy. Even if he attends a regular private school, it’d just be a waste of money…”
Ji Ge’s face turned red instantly.
He wanted to say something but ended up lowering his head in silence.
Shen Miao glanced at him, her expression calm.
She smiled slightly and said, “Thank you for telling me, Auntie. But Ji Ge is still young—who hasn’t made mistakes? As the saying goes, ‘The past is as dead as yesterday, and the future is born anew today.’
I never judge the present based on the past. Besides, I know my own brother best. How much of what’s been said is actually true? Idle gossip is hardly reliable.”
After finishing her words, she paid no further attention to Aunt Li’s slightly stunned expression.
Straightening her back, she gave a slight bow and firmly took the hands of her younger siblings before leaving.
Aunt Li held the half-finished shoe sole in her hands, staring at the siblings’ retreating figures with confusion.
“That Shen girl married a scholar and now talks all refined… What was that she said about life and death?” She tried to repeat the phrase but found her tongue twisting.
With a shake of her head, she lowered it again and continued stitching.
Meanwhile, Shen Miao’s words struck Ji Ge deeply, making his entire body tremble.
“All that has happened in the past is as if it died yesterday; all that is to come is as if it is born today…”
Ji Ge muttered to himself with his head lowered, chewing over the phrase several times.
Eventually, he couldn’t help but lift his gaze toward Shen Miao, his eyes gradually brightening with admiration.
Shen Miao felt a shiver run down her spine under his gaze.
After thinking carefully, she realized—this was bad.
That phrase was from Liao Fan’s Four Lessons!
While it wasn’t an obscure saying in later generations, the problem was…
That book was written during the Ming Dynasty!
She had blurted it out naturally, but now Ji Ge seemed to regard it as a life-changing philosophy.
Cough, Shen Miao silently broke into a cold sweat.
Sorry, Master Yuan Huang!
I’ll make sure to give you proper credit one day!
As they reached their doorstep, Xiang Jie hadn’t listened to a single word her siblings said.
Her eyes had been glued to the chicks the entire time.
The moment they stepped inside, she eagerly set them down in the yard and started chasing them, laughing gleefully as she ran.
Especially today—Shen Miao had styled her hair into two small upturned braids, resembling tiny wings.
As she ran, they bounced up and down, and with her little yellow dress, she looked just like a plump little honey bee from afar—utterly adorable.
Ji Ge’s steps grew heavier as they walked, his expression increasingly tense.
Finally, as if mustering great courage, he tugged at Shen Miao’s sleeve and awkwardly explained, “A’jie… actually, I didn’t sneak off to the bookstore just to read idle books…”
Shen Miao already knew and smiled.
“I know. You were copying books to earn money for the family, weren’t you?”
Ji Ge jerked his head up in shock, eyes filled with disbelief.
How did A’jie know about that?
“Aunt was so harsh to you two,” Shen Miao continued gently.
“When I first saw you, you were sickly pale and thin as a twig. Yet, your personality had become so mature and steady—completely different from the mischievous boy you used to be.
But Xiang Jie? She’s still the same innocent, carefree child as before, with her round, chubby cheeks, soft and fair, unchanged.”
She crouched slightly to meet his gaze, her eyes full of warmth.
“Ji Ge, I said it the day I arrived—these past three years while I was gone, you took great care of your little sister. You’ve been through so much.”
Ji Ge stood frozen for a moment before abruptly lowering his head.
Those words nearly brought tears to his eyes.
Not wanting Shen Miao to see, he quickly turned away and ran outside.
Shen Miao didn’t chase after him.
Instead, she simply called after his retreating figure, “Come back for dinner later.”
He needed some space to be alone and release his emotions.
It was best not to disturb him.
Afterward, she leaned out and reminded Xiang Jie not to keep scaring the chicks, lest they get frightened to death.
Then, she headed into the kitchen to prepare the dough for the pancakes she planned to sell the next day.
Once the dough was ready, she washed her hands and asked Aunt Gu to watch over Xiang Jie for a while.
Then she made her way to several grain shops, checking prices.
By the time she returned, Ji Ge was already back, silently helping Xiang Jie mix wheat bran with water to feed the chicks, as if nothing had happened.
“Perfect timing. You two, come with me to buy some beans.”
Tomorrow, Shen Miao decided not to make sausages.
Besides her signature scallion pancakes, she planned to bake some bread.
Throughout Bianjing, all the steamed buns and pastries followed traditional Chinese methods, and the popular cakes were mostly Su-style pastries—soft, sweet, moist, and intricately designed, often filled with fruit, nuts, and pork fat.
Western-style bread, on the other hand, was entirely different.
It was simple, hearty, and affordable—more of a staple food than a treat.
She planned to make red bean pull-apart bread, a type of bread that was visually appealing with its golden, slightly crispy surface, textured patterns, and delicious filling inside.
It was tasty, cheap, and attractive to customers.
Most importantly, making red bean bread was far more cost-effective than making sausages.
In the Song Dynasty, beans—whether red or green—were much cheaper than rice or wheat flour.
Even sugar was cheaper than salt!
Shen Miao had just visited nearly every grain shop in the inner city and had a good grasp of market prices.
Tomorrow, she’d be better prepared for her street stall.
Although she had put up a sign reading Shen’s Pancake Shop, in the Song Dynasty, almost all flour-based snacks were called bing (pancakes).
So technically, she wasn’t straying too far from her main business.
And while they were out, she might as well buy Ji Ge some calligraphy supplies.
Aunt Li had said that Ji Ge’s studies were mediocre and that he likely wouldn’t pass the entrance exam for Guozi Academy.
But Shen Miao believed in him.