Rebirth: Not Being a Waste - Chapter 48

When the soup on the stove is ready, waves of rich, meaty aroma waft from the large earthenware pot, making it all the more enticing on this chilly winter morning.

In their county, people are accustomed to eating salty foods for breakfast. Ordinary folks prepare porridge and pickles at home, while the wealthy go out for noodles, wontons, or perhaps some buns and tofu pudding. There are few variations in the morning menu.

Most people believe that breakfast should be light; heavy meals of fish and meat early in the morning seem unappealing. However, the fragrant earthenware pot soup from Zhang Shu’s family stirs appetites the moment its scent drifts through the air.

A passerby stops and asks, “Brother, how much is your soup? How much for a bowl?” He figures that if the price is reasonable, a bowl of hot soup paired with a few buns would make for a satisfying meal.

Zhang Shu lifts the cloth covering the basket, revealing golden sweet potato pancakes. “Big brother, the soup is free. Buy a pancake, and you get a bowl of soup. You can sit here and eat.”

“How much for the pancake?”

“One wen.”

“Then give me one, and pour me a bowl of soup.” The man primarily wants the soup, treating the pancake as an extra. However, when he takes a bite, he’s pleasantly surprised—crispy and flavorful, with a perfect balance of saltiness. A sip of the soup enhances the taste, making for a truly satisfying breakfast.

“Give me two more pancakes and another bowl of soup.”

“Alright!”

Li Mujin quickly serves him. A satisfied customer is the best advertisement—one person trying it is more convincing than a hundred words of praise. Soon, others passing by begin to follow suit. Some choose to sit and eat, while others buy pancakes to take home. After all, it’s a new treat, and who knows if it will be available again next time? The young couple’s willingness to offer samples reassures customers that the food is worth taking home.

The pancakes, crispy and fragrant, pair exceptionally well with the radish bone soup. Thanks to the novelty and appeal, nearly all the pancakes sell out by midday.

With only two or three left, Zhang Shu wraps them up and gives them to the neighboring stall vendors. Since their business has drawn in many customers and taken up space, it’s a small gesture of goodwill. Fortunately, none of the nearby vendors have complained about them setting up shop.

Once they finish selling, they pack up and head home. After putting things away, they go to the Lin Family Inn to fetch their cow. By the time they return, it’s already afternoon.

Over a meal of two large bowls of rice prepared by Grandma Zhang, Li Mujin removes the cloth bag and begins counting their earnings for the day.

They’ve made 120 small pancakes. Three are given as samples, four are wrapped for Lin Dongdong, and three are gifted to their neighbor who buys vegetables—leaving 110 sold.

Zhang Shu spends two coins on tofu pudding, seven coins on a pile of meat scraps and bones, and one coin on two jin of radish—a total cost of ten coins.

That means they earn 100 coins in total. After deducting 53 coins in expenses, their profit stands at 47 coins.

Li Mujin is quite satisfied. After all, it’s not easy to make that much in a day. But Zhang Shu is less pleased. If he works alone, he could make the same amount. Yet with both of them working together, the profit barely increases. Why should both of them toil so hard for so little?

He needs a better plan—one that reduces costs while keeping the food fresh, allowing them to make more money. Ideally, he wants to avoid traveling to the city every day. His young calf still has growing to do; trekking seventy or eighty miles of mountain roads daily would prevent it from gaining weight.

When he shares his thoughts, Li Mujin laughs. “Ah’shu, you’re ambitious. If making money were that easy, wouldn’t everyone have mountains of gold and silver at home? Anyway, earning forty to fifty coins a day is already great.” If they can keep this up daily, they’ll make over one or two taels a month.

“Just wait and see. Others don’t dare to dream, but I do. I’ll prove it to you,” Zhang Shu declares confidently. After all, this isn’t his first life—he knows what sells.

Li Mujin chuckles. “Then show me.” But then he hesitates. “We’re out of potatoes. Are we really stopping this business? If not, I’ll go buy more from other households.”

“No need. I’m not doing this anymore.” Zhang Shu waves it off but then suddenly reconsiders. An idea flashes through his mind. “No, buy them! Buy a lot! I just thought of something new.”

If there’s one place in their county where money flows, it’s the big river outside the city. The river connects to the sea, providing a faster route to Nanhai County than crossing mountains. It’s also a safe route—patrolled by the imperial navy, with little threat of bandits or river bandits.

Merchants from other regions stop at the river to transfer to larger ships heading to Nanhai. Naturally, they need food along the way. Besides traders, many laborers work there—hauling cargo, dredging the riverbed, or fishing near the coast.

These workers toil all day and earn well. However, for short-term laborers wanting a share of the profits, early mornings are key.

And food vendors? The more, the better.

Zhang Shu recalls a dish from Yanbei—making vermicelli from potato starch. The process involves squeezing out the potato pulp, drying it into powder, adding alum, mixing it with boiling water, and using a colander to form vermicelli strands. Due to poor transportation, it will take another five or six years for this method to spread here naturally.

A bowl of vermicelli, mixed with green vegetables, peanuts, and chili oil—just thinking about it makes his mouth water. For people working by the river, exposed to damp conditions daily, their joints often ache at night. A hot, spicy bowl of vermicelli would help them sweat out moisture and sleep better.

Zhang Shu grows increasingly excited, eager to start selling right away. Meanwhile, Li Mujin watches him with a puzzled expression. He keeps changing his mind—first refusing to buy potatoes, then suddenly wanting them. And his expression looks downright strange.

“Ah’shu, are we buying them or not?” Li Mujin steps closer, bending slightly to look into his eyes.

Zhang Shu snaps out of his thoughts, grabs Li Mujin’s face, and plants a quick kiss on his cheek. “Buy! Buy a lot! We’re going to get rich!”

Li Mujin silently thinks, He’s lost his mind. 

Without another word, he sweeps the money into his pouch and heads out to buy potatoes.

Zhang Shu stays behind for a moment, fantasizing about his overnight success. But when he realizes Li Mujin has left, he rushes out after him. He can’t let his little Jin’er carry all that weight alone.

Just as he reaches the door, he spots Li Mujin standing outside Laiwang’s house, speaking with Laiwang’s husband.

Noticing Zhang Shu, Li Mujin says, “Brother Yue, no need. Ah’shu will move them.” He turns to Zhang Shu. “Brother Yue has three baskets of potatoes. I bought them all. Go move them out, and don’t forget to return the baskets later. I’m going to check other houses.”

Li Mujin doesn’t hesitate when it comes to necessary purchases. A basket of potatoes costs seven coins, regardless of size. These potatoes are much smaller than spring potatoes—one basket yields only three to five jin. Most people don’t find them tasty, only using them sparingly in stews or as a side dish.

Unless a family is extremely poor and needs to eat them as a staple, they rarely buy large quantities.

As a result, many are happy to sell their small harvests. Li Mujin walks around and buys six baskets in total, spending over 40 coins—nearly all their earnings from the day.

Seeing the baskets pile up at home, Grandma Zhang sighs in worry. Could they really survive on potatoes alone? Even if they turn them into pancakes, how would they grind so many? Would their arms even hold up?