“Thank you for coming, Brother Xie. That refined, talented, and handsome husband, you refused! Yet, you insist on falling for that treacherous, vile, disgraceful beast!
You no longer need to call me father—I have no such disgraceful, shameful daughter who ruins our family’s reputation! If it weren’t for your mother’s blind indulgence, I wouldn’t have had to wait so long to deal with you!
I can’t delay this any longer—right now, I will get rid of the wicked creature in this wretch’s belly!”
There seemed to be quite a few people in the room.
A disheveled woman lay on the floor, held down by several people.
Someone gripped her head while she struggled desperately.
For a moment, she broke free from their grasp and cried out in despair, her voice filled with grief:
“Father, you always preach about arranged marriages and parental authority, but why was my marriage never up for discussion? Why must I sacrifice my entire life for the family, for my sisters, and for your reputation? I refuse! I want to live as a person, too, Father!”
“You are incorrigible! No one is free in this world! You have enjoyed the protection and wealth of this family—shouldn’t you repay it?
Your sisters grew up with you; isn’t it your duty to uphold their honor? Yet, you only think of yourself! Such selfishness is utterly disgraceful—I wish I had never given birth to you! Beat her!”
A heavy stick was raised high and came crashing down onto her already swollen belly.
Xie Qi, who had been watching from outside the wall, could no longer hold back and shouted.
His sudden outcry made everyone inside turn to look.
The door was flung open, and Cui Sicao stormed out, his face livid.
Xie Qi, summoning all his courage, shouted: “Uncle! I… I am willing to break off the engagement. I swear never to speak of tonight’s events. Please… please spare my cousin’s life!”
Without even packing his belongings, he and his servant Yan Shu rode back to Bianjing, traveling day and night without rest.
They endured hardships along the way, arriving at the Xie household in a state worse than street beggars.
The gatekeeper almost didn’t recognize them.
Back home, Xie Qi finally regained some composure, but his heart remained troubled.
He couldn’t shake off the unease that had settled deep within him.
Just then, a delicious aroma wafted through the air.
A young servant entered carrying a plate of freshly baked pancakes, barely containing his excitement as he swallowed his saliva.
“Brother Jiu, the servant from Third Brother’s household brought these pancakes! He said a new ‘Pancake Beauty’ has set up a stall at Jinliang Bridge—her pancakes are famous! He wanted you to try some.”
“I don’t want any…”
Xie Qi put down his book, glanced out the window at Yan Shu, who was eyeing the pancakes hungrily, and changed his mind.
“You two can have them.”
“Thank you, Brother Jiu!”
Yan Shu leaped up in excitement and, along with the young servant, sat on the steps of the corridor.
Each grabbed a pancake and devoured it, filling the courtyard with the scent of warm, fragrant food.
The smell was tempting.
Xie Qi twitched his nose, but then, the memory of that night resurfaced—the moment his uncle had pushed open the door after hearing his shout, the candlelight spilling out, illuminating a pool of fresh blood on the ground, seeping from beneath his cousin’s skirts.
Yan Shu was too short to see clearly, but Xie Qi had seen everything.
His appetite vanished, replaced by nausea.
He had only met his cousin a few times.
When he was younger, around six or seven, he had stayed in Chenzhou for a while.
Back then, there was no distinction between boys and girls, and she had taken him around to explore—the temple fairs, markets, and street performances.
In his memory, she had always been a lively, spirited girl.
From his uncle’s words that night, it seemed she had been pregnant, tried to elope, and was captured and brought back.
Perhaps she had made mistakes—she hadn’t valued herself, and she had been selfish.
But did she truly deserve to be beaten to death so cruelly?
His uncle’s punishment had been for the sake of the Cui family’s reputation, but should he pity his cousin, or condemn her as his uncle did?
Her desperate cry still echoed in his heart: “Why was my marriage never up for discussion?”
He sighed, stood up, and closed the window.
Outside, Yan Shu and the servant, carefree and oblivious, lay on the ground rubbing their full stomachs, exclaiming:
“This ‘Pancake Beauty’ really lives up to her reputation!”
“No wonder Third Brother was so eager to send them over!”
“Brother Jiu lost his appetite—lucky for us!”
Meanwhile, Shen Miao had just returned to Yangliu East Alley with Ji Ge and Xiang Jie, just in time to see Gu Tusu pushing a cart.
He helped her carry a table and scolded her gently: “Why didn’t you wait for me?”
“The stall closed early today, so I carried it back myself,” Shen Miao smiled faintly.
“The days ahead are long—I can’t always trouble you, can I? Brother Gu, you should go home now.”
Gu Tusu followed her to the back gate of the Shen residence.
She took the table from him, thanked him, and closed the door.
He hesitated for a moment, then looked up at the newly built courtyard wall.
Unlike the white plaster walls of other houses, the Shen family’s new wall was built with stones and reinforced with clay to save money.
It hadn’t been polished smooth, giving it a simple, rustic look, but it was higher than most, with sharp broken porcelain embedded along the top.
The front door was thick, made from finely grained wood, carefully polished, and coated with three layers of varnish until it gleamed.
Just a few days ago, the Shen household had been in ruins, overgrown with weeds.
Yet, in just four or five days since Shen Miao’s return, everything had changed.
He had once worried that a young woman like her wouldn’t be able to support the household.
But now, he realized he had been overthinking it.
For some reason, a sense of loss crept over him.
He turned and went home.
As soon as he opened the door, he was met with his mother’s scrutinizing gaze.
His dark face flushed red, and he quickly said, “I was just helping at the front.”
Then, he fled.
His mother, Aunt Gu, watched his retreating back, frowning slightly.
She wanted to say something but, in the end, only sighed.
This foolish boy had once been smitten with Shen Miao, hoping to marry her.
He had spent all day loitering around the Shen family’s noodle shop, helping out whenever he could.
The two families had been friends for over a decade, and Shen Miao’s parents had silently approved of the match.
But then, Rong Dalang had appeared—a fair-skinned scholar with a handsome face, refined manners, and elegant speech.
And just like that, he had stolen Shen Miao’s heart.
Though doing business ensured they never went hungry, scholars were always different.
Their futures were bright, and even if they were older in age, it didn’t matter.
If someone like that was willing to marry a merchant’s daughter, it was already a great honor for the Shen family.
Thus, the marriage was quickly arranged.
The following year, Shen Miao was married off.
Gu Tusu drank for three days, and even at the wedding banquet, he only dared to watch from a distance.
Now, she had returned alone, with a tarnished reputation, yet her beauty had only blossomed further.
Seeing her son eagerly running to her again, how could Aunt Gu not worry?
Deep down, she still hoped that her son would find a proper, respectable young lady of similar status, settle down, inherit the tavern, and live a steady, peaceful life.
While Aunt Gu was sighing in worry, Shen Miao, along with Ji Ge and Xiang Jie, had bolted the door tightly and were now huddled under the blankets, counting money—they had been so busy today that they hadn’t even had time to check how much they had earned!
Laying out a cloth, Shen Miao grabbed two pieces of straw rope and poured out the coins from the earthenware money jar.
As they clinked onto the cloth, she began threading them together while counting.
She had made fifty pancake wraps in total, given one to Fat Madam, and sold the remaining forty-nine.
Among them, twenty-four were the “Family Fortune” set at eight wen per piece, twelve were the “Double Happiness” set at seven wen each.
The remaining fourteen were split—half were plain vegetable pancakes at three wen each, while the other half were meat and vegetable pancakes without eggs, priced at five wen each.
Ji Ge thought for a moment, then quickly announced, “We made a total of 332 wen from the pancakes today!”
Xiang Jie, who was in charge of threading the coins, had barely counted up to fifty-eight before looking up in confusion.
“Brother, how did you count so fast?”
Shen Miao was also surprised and looked at him curiously.
Did he just do mental math instantly?
Ji Ge, slightly embarrassed under his sister’s gaze, scratched his head.
“Back when I studied under the teacher, I was much better at arithmetic than the Four Books and Five Classics. The teacher always said I was putting my intelligence in the wrong place.
But I figured, if I don’t pass the imperial exams, I could always become an accounts officer at the county office.”
Shen Miao felt a bit of regret—not that he wasn’t focused on the classics, but that if he had been born in the modern era, he would have been a natural in STEM.
Look at him—so young yet already planning for his future.
When she was nine years old in her past life, she hadn’t even thought about the future at all—she was too busy crying over not knowing how to flip a wok properly!
“This isn’t a waste of talent at all! Others wish they had your knack for numbers,” she reassured him.
“Besides, I think your way of thinking is great. There are 360 professions, and each can produce a master. Even if you don’t pass the exams to become a scholar, there will always be another path, won’t there?”
She had heard of many scholars in Bianjing who, after repeatedly failing their exams, despaired and drowned themselves in the Bian River.
She wanted to make sure Ji Ge never saw his future as so narrow.
“I’ve never thought scholars were inherently nobler than merchants. In my opinion, as long as someone earns their living through honest work, without stealing or cheating, they are worthy of respect.”
It was the first time Ji Ge had heard something like this.
He nodded seriously.
“I’ll remember that, Sister.”
Shen Miao then continued calculating.
They had grilled a total of twenty-one starch sausages, but before setting up the stall, she had saved two for Ji Ge and Xiang Jie, and another was cut up for sampling.
That left eighteen sold—twelve at four wen each, and six as part of a “two for seven wen” deal, meaning three sets were sold.
Without missing a beat, she glanced at Ji Ge.
Sure enough, he instantly blurted out, “That’s 48 wen plus 21 wen, so a total of 69 wen from sausages.”
“Yesterday, I bought a lot of ingredients—I remember spending 3 wen on cucumbers and spring greens, 16 wen on 2 jin of pork, 8 wen on chicken breast, 45 wen on 50 eggs.
The lard was rendered from the pork, so that doesn’t count in the cost. Sauces, vinegar, and salt—I’ll estimate at 5 wen. Coarse wheat flour used up half a dou, which cost 5 wen. Charcoal was 7 wen per jin. So today’s total material cost was 89 wen.”
Since the stall rental fee was 50 wen per month, she divided it into daily costs—about 2 wen per day.
Not counting her own labor, today’s first morning market stall made a gross profit of 310 wen.
Street loafers in Bianjing could earn 100 to 200 wen a day just by running errands, so her earnings weren’t much in comparison.
Plus, sausages required brining with salt and flour, making their profit margin thin.
She decided she would stop making them in the future.
For long-term sustainability, she also needed to find a cheaper supplier for meat and vegetables.
Otherwise, with costs making up a third of the revenue, profits were too thin.
In the food business, the minimum rule for breaking even was that the selling price had to be at least three times the cost.
Today’s earnings still had to be reinvested in ingredients.
If costs stayed this high, she would end up running at a loss.
Moreover, it was now late spring, and with warmer weather, charcoal prices had dropped.
But in winter, a jin of charcoal could cost as much as six dou of rice—expenses would surely rise.
After careful calculations, Shen Miao made up her mind to adjust her business model moving forward.
“Although it’s not much, at least we’ve made some income today. We’ve officially started making money now.”
She deliberately included Ji Ge and Xiang Jie in her calculations, hoping they would understand the difficulty of earning money.
If they learned the value of hard work and frugality now, they wouldn’t grow up to be careless or lazy.
Ji Ge, after finishing the accounting with his sister, felt a pang of sadness.
Shen Miao hadn’t counted her own long day of exhaustion as part of the cost, but he did.
Every copper coin in that “310 wen profit” was soaked with her sweat and effort.
Xiang Jie, on the other hand, had been completely lost in the calculations.
But seeing Shen Miao happy, she too cheered, jumping up and exclaiming, “Our sister is the best!”
Ji Ge’s worries were instantly washed away by her excitement, and he couldn’t help but smile too.
Shen Miao clapped the dust off her hands and stood up with a grin.
“I remember we still have some cabbage, carrots, and spinach at home, plus a few eggs. How about we make spinach dumplings today? Have you two ever eaten green-skinned dumplings?”