“Can! How could it not?”
This is a big order!
Shen Miao then carefully asked the servant and learned that he was the steward of the inner residence of the Xie family from the West Bell and Drum Tower of Daxiangguo Temple.
These steamed buns were intended for the one-year anniversary ceremony of the deceased master of the Xie family.
Because the ceremony would last for three days, and they would need to supply 150 buns each day for the monks who came to chant scriptures, the buns had to be made without any animal fat.
They needed to be made with soybean oil or rapeseed oil to ensure they were entirely vegetarian.
Eggs also couldn’t be used… Shen Miao thought for a moment.
Without eggs, the texture might not be as soft, and the color might be slightly off.
Eggs in bread help add moisture, make it rise, and give it a golden color when baked.
However, there are also plenty of recipes for bread without oil, sugar, or eggs—by adding more water and yeast, the bread can still be soft.
But you would have to stand by the oven the whole time, adjusting the heat and carefully controlling it to ensure the bread doesn’t dry out too much, or else it would turn into something as hard as a weapon.
For Shen Miao, this wasn’t a big issue.
“When does your master need them?”
Shen Miao asked about the timing.
Usually, ceremonies last from morning until evening, and sometimes the auspicious time is even at midnight.
If the time doesn’t line up, too early or too late, she was worried she might not make it in time, causing a delay for an important event at the family home, which wouldn’t be good.
Once she learned the monks’ resting time was set for the evening, Shen Miao thought for a moment and said, “How about this: I will bake a batch of steamed buns in the afternoon without animal fat or eggs and deliver them to your house for your master to taste.
If they are satisfactory, you can ask if I can bring the dough and bake them at your house, just using your oven, to save time on the round trip… If that’s inconvenient, I can just deliver them fully baked, though I’m afraid they might cool off on the way.”
The servant hadn’t expected this young woman, who looked like she was just making pancakes, to be so careful and thorough in her work.
He was pleased and said, “Miss Shen is right. I’ll go back and prepare them, and we’ll settle the payment for the trial batch. I will make sure you’re not at a loss.
Afterward, when the master returns, we’ll taste the buns together. Once we have approval, we’ll send someone to talk to Miss Shen.”
This was exactly what Shen Miao wanted—such big orders had to be confirmed from all aspects to avoid redoing the work.
Right now, she didn’t have the financial flexibility to bear the cost of mistakes.
She smiled and agreed, accepting thirty wen for the trial batch from the Xie family’s servant, and they arranged a time for the delivery of the red bean paste bun.
She packed the dishes into a basket, tied up the rest of her belongings like chairs and stove, and headed back.
The chubby woman, seeing that Shen Miao was carrying a lot of stuff, couldn’t help but exclaim, “Miss Shen, you’re really strong!”
Shen Miao wasn’t bothered, smiling and saying, “This is a big benefit!”
In her previous life, she had been too focused on her career to marry by the time she was in her thirties.
She encountered all sorts of people and, to protect herself, took two years of martial arts lessons.
There was one time when her best friend’s ex-boyfriend cheated on her, and she was able to slap the jerk around so hard he spun.
In the city, some troublemakers had noticed that Shen Miao was beautiful and alone, and thought they might try to flirt with her.
But after seeing how strong and capable she was, carrying everything on her shoulders and arms, they all quietly gave up on their plans.
Today, both the hand-pulled flatbreads and red bean paste buns had sold out.
These things were actually lighter than when she arrived—nothing to worry about.
Shen Miao put everything away at home and quickly started cooking with what little ingredients she had left.
She steamed a pot of mixed grains with black rice and millet, made three dishes: stir-fried winter melon slices, cold shredded eggplant, and shiitake mushrooms stuffed with tofu and chicken thigh meat.
She also fried a few eggs, packing a large portion into a three-tiered lunch box and keeping it warm on the stove for herself and Xiang Jie to eat at home first.
After they finished eating, she took the lunch box and, with Xiang Jie in tow, headed out.
First, she would check on Ji Ge in the bookstore to see how he was progressing with his transcription, and bring him lunch.
Secondly, she needed to buy some soybean oil.
Most of the oil at home was either pork or chicken fat, but in the afternoon, she needed to make a vegetarian version of the red bean paste bun, which required soybean oil.
On the way, she unexpectedly ran into Gu Tusu, who was pushing a cart full of firewood.
When he saw Shen Miao, his eyes lit up.
He wiped the sweat from his neck with the cloth hanging there and called out, “Miss!”
Shen Miao stopped, and he quickly approached the cart, saying, “Are you going out? I chopped a lot of firewood today, and I can give you some so you don’t have to buy it.”
“Gu Er Ge, no need, I’m already able to support myself. I don’t want to keep taking your things for free. You should take it home and use it. Your family needs firewood for brewing wine, after all.”
Shen Miao shook her head and gently declined.
She didn’t want to keep taking advantage of others.
Moreover, Gu Tusu had to carry the firewood from outside the city, relying on his own strength and two legs.
It was backbreaking labor.
The first time she had taken the firewood was when she had just returned, and the house was bare; it had been an emergency.
But now, constantly taking things for free was inappropriate.
Gu Tusu was about to say something, but Shen Miao raised the wooden lunch box in her hand and smiled, “Ji Ge is still transcribing books at Liu Feng’s bookstore. I’ll be going ahead. Gu Er Ge, you’ve worked hard chopping firewood. Go home and rest.”
After speaking, she had Xiang Jie wave goodbye to Gu Tusu, and the two of them continued walking.
Gu Tusu could only watch Shen Miao’s retreating figure in a daze.
Shen Miao was tall and slender, but not fragile.
It seemed she had long been accustomed to working at the stove.
One day, when he got up early to fetch water from the well and was about to enter the house, he noticed the back gate of the Shen family’s courtyard was slightly ajar.
He happened to see her adding water to the courtyard’s water tank.
She had rolled up her sleeves, exposing a small section of her arm, and was pouring a full bucket of water into the tank.
Her arm, which appeared slender, revealed a thin layer of muscle and blue veins as she exerted force.
The Song people loved delicate, graceful women with the elegance of a swallow.
His elder sister was once like that—soft and fragile, easily frightened by a harsh tone, afraid of the dark and mosquitoes, speaking in a soft, quiet voice.
But now… she could chop up large pig bones with a knife, carry everything on her shoulders without a cart, and no longer sought his help.
She could shoulder burdens and carry things, walking with vigor.
She had to take care of two younger siblings, not complaining once.
Even on the first day when they slept in a ruined building with only the remains of the walls left, she smiled and counted stars with Xiang Jie instead of crying.
She had truly changed.
The Shen Miao who used to call him “Gu Er Ge” in a soft voice seemed to have completely disappeared during these three years.
Gu Tusu didn’t know why, but a sigh of defeat rose from deep within him.
His spirits seemed to sag.
Slowly, he pushed the cart a few steps before turning back to look.
Shen Miao and her sister had already blended into the crowd in the market, their figures becoming indistinct.
She hadn’t turned back even once, walking slowly but steadily forward.
He watched for a while before silently turning and pushing his cart into a small alley.
***
Shen Miao didn’t really care about meeting Gu Tusu, nor did she mind what others thought.
She was still thinking about how much money she could make from this order!
The price she had agreed upon with the servant of the Xie family was exactly the selling price for today, 8 wen per loaf of red bean paste bun, but she didn’t need to add eggs!
This way, she could save nearly one wen per loaf on costs!
If she could bake the bread at their house, she could even save on charcoal costs.
Today, she made 55 loaves of red bean paste bun—two were taken by Ji Ge, one was given to Xiang Jie, she ate one herself, and another one was given to the chubby woman.
In return, the chubby woman gave Xiang Jie a bowl of jujube soup.
The remaining 50 loaves were all sold, mostly as whole loaves.
When she and Xiang Jie counted them at lunch, she realized she had made 400 wen just from the red bean paste bun.
After deducting costs, her gross profit was around 300 wen.
Adding the earnings from the hand-pulled flatbreads, her total profit for the day was nearly 800 wen!
If she could secure the 450 loaves order from the Xie family, she could earn three whole taels at once!
Three taels! Three taels!
Shen Miao thought about it and felt thrilled, even walking a little lighter.
Meanwhile, at the Lanxin Bookstore near the South City Gate, Ji Ge was working diligently, his head bent over the books.
The owner of Lanxin Bookstore, Mr. Zhou, was a thin-faced old man who looked a bit gruff and was nearly sixty years old.
His wife had passed away long ago, and he had never remarried.
Instead, he raised his two children by himself.
However, his son had joined the army many years ago in Yanzhou and settled there, while his daughter married and moved to Luoyang.
Both children were doing well, though not as comfortably as he was.
He had spent two years living with his son and then two more with his daughter.
Eventually, he decided to return alone and live out his days in the modest bookstore.
He had named the store after his late wife, thinking of it as though she were still with him.
Without any grandchildren around, he didn’t show it, but he often felt pity for children like Ji Ge, who came to the bookstore to read.
As long as they were careful with the books and didn’t damage them, he allowed them to pay and copy books there.
Most children who came to study were from wealthy families, young and spoiled, often quitting after a few days of copying.
But this Ji Ge, who had been coming regularly for the past two years to copy books, had good handwriting for his age—strong and neat.
So, when new books were published and there were delays in printing, Mr. Zhou would sometimes ask him to copy a few books to earn some extra money.
After all, hiring this child to copy books was much cheaper than hiring those self-important scholars.
Mr. Zhou sat behind the high counter, calculating with an abacus while occasionally glancing at Ji Ge and keeping an eye out for any thieves in the store.
Finally, his gaze returned to Ji Ge, and he couldn’t help but purse his lips.
This morning, Ji Ge had brought him some honey bean crisp buns.
Even though the taste was half gone after a while, it seemed to linger on his tongue, making him want more.
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