Chapter Thirteen: The First Day at the Market Stall

“Is it possible that previously there was no meat to make, so no matter how pork is prepared, it wouldn’t taste bad?” Liang Yunqing replied, glancing at the sky—it was already evening. She hurriedly urged everyone to speed up.

Under her direction, the group cooperated efficiently, and soon pot after pot of steamed dumplings, glistening with oil and fragrant, were placed on the table.

Chu Youmai was responsible for brushing a light layer of oil on top to prevent them from sticking together when reheated the next day.

Only when night had fully fallen did the kitchen crew finish steaming all the dumplings to be sold the following day. Liang Yunqing handed each of them two as their dinner.

Under the moonlight, they sat on the ground, eating heartily.

Suddenly realizing something, Liang Yunqing stood up and kicked Liang Youyong, who was nearby.

“Go get the unused straw paper your brother has,” she instructed.

Reluctantly, Liang Youyong put down his dumpling, licked his lips, and looked at his parents in front of him. Seeing that Li Pinghua was too busy to pay attention to him, he obediently ran to his room and brought out a stack of pale yellow paper.

Liang Yunqing recalled that Liang Youcai was a picky person who wouldn’t settle for less—even the paper he used for writing had to be the same fine rice paper as the county’s young masters. He looked down on this straw paper, so it had just piled up at home.

She took the paper and cut it into uniformly sized squares, ready to use for wrapping dumplings the next day.

Since they didn’t have dishes yet, this straw paper was the most cost-effective and suitable material for wrapping dumplings. After double-checking the stall cart, she washed up and returned to the room—though washing up was just rinsing her mouth with water, as no one in the village knew about brushing teeth.

She resolved to find a way to make toothbrushes later; she couldn’t imagine going on without brushing teeth every day.

Li Pinghua happily inspected the stall cart a few more times before returning inside.

That night, the Liang family felt somewhat excited. They usually earned a living through labor, and their wages were so low they couldn’t afford good seeds. As a result, the only acre of land they had produced little harvest. They had hoped that with 800 wen they could live a better life, but things had turned out like this.

Still, their resentments lessened, and the thought of selling at the stall the next day brought them a bit of excitement.

Early the next morning,

Li Pinghua placed the steaming pot on the wooden table in the kitchen, following Liang Yunqing’s instructions. The table had a round hole, just right for a fire to be lit underneath to keep the pot warm.

By the time Liang Yunqing came out dressed, everything for the stall was nearly ready.

This time, the stall would be run by Second Aunt Li Pinghua and Chu Youmai, but unable to resist Ayen and Xiaohong’s requests, Liang Yunqing agreed to let them tag along.

Together, they helped load the cart onto a wagon at the village gate. On the way, they inevitably ran into villagers.

Several men carrying hoes curiously eyed the cart and asked, “Big brother of the Liang family, what are you doing with this?”

Li Pinghua, used to being a shrew, fearing others would find out about their money-making business, waved her hands and spat sharply, “Go away! Stop prying into everything!”

The men didn’t want to argue and, seeing her unwillingness to talk, let it go.

Liang Zhiyan leaned close to Li Pinghua and whispered, “Wife, do you think they’ll spread the word?”

“If they dare! I’ll tear their mouths apart,” she said fiercely, then nervously glanced at Liang Yunqing, who was pushing the cart with a calm expression. This reassured her somewhat.

Liang Yunqing was no fool; her second aunt was guarding the secret of their business. Until it was stable, it really shouldn’t be shared.

They struggled to lift the table onto the wagon, and Uncle Ma wisely kept silent.

Upon reaching the town, the three carried the table and steaming pot to a street corner near the workers’ district, where they set up and lit the fire under the pot.

Soon, steam rose, carrying aromas of meat and rice that spread around.

Liang Yunqing deliberately chose this spot to avoid competing with the bun-selling aunt nearby—each minding their own business.

The street gradually filled with people—not only workers but also shop owners and clerks.

Everyone passing by was drawn by the scent, but seeing the unfamiliar faces at the stall, many swallowed their saliva and walked on.

Li Pinghua anxiously watched the empty stall, glancing repeatedly at Liang Yunqing and urged, “Yunqing, why isn’t there a single customer?”

“Don’t worry. It’s our first time selling, so naturally no one will try it yet,” Liang Yunqing said and then stood in front of the stall, loudly shouting,

“Come and see! Fresh steamed dumplings—if not tasty, no charge!”

“Only 3 wen each, buy more, get discounts!”

After a while, some people dressed in cotton jackets gathered around. They looked like household heads and managers.

Drawn by the unusual aroma, they had long wanted to try.

“Give me one to taste,” a tall middle-aged man said, handing over 3 wen. Liang Yunqing smiled and accepted the money, wrapping a steaming dumpling in straw paper and handing it to him.

“Sir, try it first, buy only if you like it.”

The man blew on it a few times before putting it into his mouth. In an instant, a tingling sensation spread through his palate, mingling with the rich fragrance of rice, leaving him momentarily stunned.

“How is it?”

People nearby looked at him, eagerly asking about the taste.

“Delicious! A flavor I’ve never tasted before! Give me three more—no, make it five. I want my wife and kids to try.”

He fumbled in his pocket, pulled out 15 wen, and handed it to Li Pinghua standing nearby.

Liang Yunqing smiled and returned one wen to the man.

“Buy more, get discounts. Buy four dumplings and get 1 wen off. Mother, help the customer wrap them up.”

Excited, Chu Youmai picked up the straw paper and began wrapping the dumplings one by one. It was her first time working under so many eyes, and her hands were clumsy. Li Pinghua, impatient with her slow pace, snatched the wrapping from her and quickly finished.

With the man’s praise, others soon began to try, their expressions of surprise never fading.

Ayen and Xiaohong helped gather firewood and kept the steaming pot hot.

“Give me five!”

“I want ten, wrap them all up!”

“I want some too, give me four.”

The line of customers grew longer and longer. One pot of dumplings after another was steamed hot. Li Pinghua stayed busy non-stop, and Chu Youmai gradually adapted to the attention, wrapping efficiently.

Liang Yunqing collected money and maintained order, feeling the pocket at her waist grow heavier and heavier, her heart filled with joy.

“No more, only two left,” Li Pinghua called out to Liang Yunqing in the distance.

She then wrapped up the last dumplings and handed them out. The wooden table was spotless, and even the firewood beneath the pot was all used up.

“Sorry, everyone, we’re sold out. Please come back tomorrow,” Liang Yunqing said to the disappointed crowd.

She pocketed a pouch full of copper coins and walked back to the stall. Having prepared 200 dumplings cautiously, they had all sold out by noon.