Century Eggs
They were out of refined wheat flour.
Steamed corn buns required a bit of white flour to improve texture and binding.
Before preparing lunch, Ye Li tucked some copper coins into his sleeve and went to Aunt Qiumei’s house to buy five jin of wheat and one jin of flour.
Though the stone mill at home was meant for soybeans, it could grind wheat in a pinch.
Wheat had to be rinsed before milling. After returning, he had Jiang Ji wash the wheat while he kneaded dough to make noodles.
Corn cakes every day—he was sick of them.
With four mouths to feed, one jin of flour was not enough. He added plenty of cornmeal into the earthenware basin and cracked in two eggs.
He had just finished kneading when Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya returned with baskets of pig fodder on their backs.
The two children dropped their baskets and ran into the kitchen. They were thirsty.
Seeing Ye Li preparing to roll noodles, Jiang Ya exclaimed, “Li-ge, are we having noodles for lunch?”
“Yes. And I’ll make a sauce with eggs and tofu.”
Jiang Ya gave a delighted cry—he wanted it! But they had already eaten eight eggs that morning.
“Li-ge, are we eating eggs every meal now?” he asked, eyes wide.
Beside him, Jiang Mai stared without blinking.
At this rate, wouldn’t their stored eggs be gone in two days?
Ye Li understood their concern. But eggs were already the most basic form of nourishment. They had no milk, no meat. If they wanted to eat well, they could only rely on eggs.
Eggs paired well with other ingredients, and there were countless ways to cook them…
He paused slightly. A new idea sparked in his mind.
He knew what to do next.
His voice gentle, he explained, “We’re earning money now. And I’ve thought of another good way to make more. Don’t worry—we can afford eggs.”
“A new way?” Jiang Ya blinked.
“What way?” Jiang Mai asked.
“Secret for now! This afternoon I’ll have your brother go to the county town.”
The two children, recalling tofu puffs and skewers, believed him almost completely. They scampered off to find Jiang Ji.
Jiang Ji had just finished rinsing the wheat and resumed sharpening sickles. The boys chattered excitedly, announcing the great news.
His long brows furrowed. Where did Ye Li get so many money-making ideas?
He sent them off to chop pig fodder and continued sharpening tools.
Soon lunch was ready.
Ye Li called the three brothers to eat, and Jiang Ji washed his hands and entered the kitchen.
“Sit and eat,” Ye Li said.
As Jiang Ji took his seat, Ye Li added, “This afternoon, buy two jin of quicklime in the county. And some sawdust from the carpenter. I have a use for it.”
“Making something new to eat?” Jiang Ji asked.
“Yes.”
The new food was none other than bian dan—preserved eggs made from chicken eggs.
Not pidan, which were made from duck eggs.
Bian dan turned amber, translucent and beautiful, unlike the dark-black pidan.
As for flavor, especially tossed cold with seasonings, it was no less delicious.
The method was simple and wouldn’t interfere with the tofu puff business.
And they kept well—half a year without issue.
Even if they didn’t sell immediately, there would be no rush.
Of course, with him involved, they certainly would sell.
In truth, he would have preferred to make spicy gluten strips.
They paired better with flatbread.
But there was no wheat gluten here.
Rice-based versions lacked the right chew.
Bean curd sheets could be used—but the texture wasn’t as satisfyingly thick.
Besides, since they already had chili oil and sesame paste, why bother making spicy strips? He could simply have Ye Liang sell tofu skin along with tofu puffs.
It was just a pity his so-called “big brother” had arrived late today—they had already begun eating.
Unaware that Ye Li’s thoughts had wandered far afield, Jiang Ji suppressed his curiosity and simply nodded.
He was certain their relationship had grown closer.
He trusted Ye Li would not deliberately embarrass him.
But if Ye Li cheerfully replied “It’s a secret,” he would still feel awkward.
As long as Ye Li refused to explain clearly, he would feel uneasy.
So he didn’t ask.
Better to suffocate than ask.
He lowered his gaze to his bowl.
Before him was a heaping mound of noodles, topped with glossy sauce—minced egg shimmering in oil, diced tofu, flecked with bright green sweet potato leaves. It looked appetizing at a glance.
After working all morning, he was starving.
Pale yellow cornmeal noodles peeked beneath the sauce. He stirred them to coat evenly.
After only two turns of his chopsticks, a palm-sized golden slice of fried egg surfaced from the bottom.
He froze.
Then remembered Ye Li’s words that morning: “I’ll give you an extra piece at noon.”
Guilt surged.
He glanced left and right. Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya were bent over their bowls, slurping noisily, wholly absorbed.
Quickly, he stirred again and buried the egg beneath noodles, covering it thoroughly.
Only then did he relax.
He looked toward Ye Li.
Ye Li arched a brow at him and tapped his lips twice with his chopsticks.
The meaning was unmistakable.
…
Jiang Ji pressed his lips together and lowered his head to eat.
He had taken only a bite when a villager arrived to buy tofu.
He rose before Ye Li could and weighed the tofu himself.
When the villager left with it, he seized the opportunity to carry his bowl into the courtyard, saying he would see the neighbor off.
Standing outside, he quickly ate the tender slab of egg, erasing all evidence of Ye Li’s “favoritism,” then returned at a leisurely pace.
After the meal, Jiang Ji took the fifty wen Ye Li gave him.
He first went to Jiang Dahe’s house to tell Jiang Liu to come “interview,” then headed straight for the county town.
When Jiang Liu arrived, Ye Li was standing by the outer wall, gazing down the road that led into the village.
The households of Yezhao Slope were scattered along the hillside rather than neatly arranged. The Jiang house sat in the southwest corner. From behind the yard, one could clearly see the entrance road.
“Li-ge, what are you looking at?” Jiang Liu asked curiously.
“My elder brother. He’s late today.”
Concern flickered across Ye Li’s face.
“Perhaps something delayed him. Li-ge, don’t worry. Nothing will happen,” Jiang Liu comforted him.
Ye Li could only hope so. He withdrew his gaze and invited her inside.
Jiang Liu wore her hair in a simple braid. She was tall, with regular features.
But years of farm work had darkened her oval face. She was not as pale as girls who rarely left their courtyards.
Her hands were dark and rough, thick calluses lining her palms.
Jiang Dahe and his wife had no sons. With heavy labor at home, they had long treated her like one.
Though only sixteen, she was already a full laborer.
She did not consider mill-pushing hard work. When Jiang Ji told her of the opportunity, she had abandoned her half-eaten meal and rushed over.
Now, following Ye Li into the yard, she spoke first. “Li-ge, shall I push the mill to show you? I’m strong. I can go fast.”
Ye Li smiled. “All right. Try.”
The rinsed wheat was not yet dry, so he brought out soybeans instead and had her grind them into powder.
Accustomed to farm work, though a year younger than Ye Li, she was stronger. The mill turned more easily under her hands.
As she pushed, she stole glances at Ye Li.
Anxiety could not be hidden in her eyes.
Pretending not to notice, Ye Li added beans to the mill and asked casually, “I heard Second Uncle found you a match. You didn’t agree?”
She hadn’t expected that.
After a moment of silence, she said, “He’s not good-looking. Over twenty. And poor.”
“Then why does Second Uncle favor him?”
“He has seven brothers. My father likes that there are many sons. He thinks I won’t be bullied in such a household.”
She bit down hard, resentment flashing in her eyes.
Just because she had no brothers, she had to endure this.
She refused.
She would rather die than marry like that.
Ye Li had never imagined such reasoning. He looked at her with sympathy.
Jiang Dahe was obsessed—mad with the desire for sons.
“Xiaoliu, once your Ji-ge returns to the academy, come work here. Ten wen a day. When you finish pushing the mill, you can leave.”
“Really?!” Her face lit with astonishment.
Before coming, she had expected five wen.
Even three would have been acceptable.
As long as she could earn, she would do any heavy labor.
But ten?
That meant three hundred wen a month.
A vast sum.
Yet she quickly sobered. “Li-ge, that’s too much. Lower it. I’ll feel uneasy taking so much.”
What unmarried girl earned three hundred wen a month?
Ye Li shook his head. “Uneasy? You’ll be grinding twenty jin of soybeans, not this small handful. I should be the one embarrassed.”
He had originally intended to offer seven or eight wen.
The work was local and brief; someone would accept.
But this was Jiang Liu—a pitiful young girl.
He could not live with himself if he paid her less.
Even his strong, grown husband had to push the mill for over an hour without stopping.
She tried to refuse again, but seeing his sincerity, her eyes reddened.
She wanted money.
She wanted control over her own marriage.
She wanted to bring in a husband instead of marrying out.
Wasn’t her father always lamenting that he had no son to support him in old age?
Didn’t he say daughters married out were a waste?
Then she would not marry out.
She would bring a man into her home.
But that required money.
A great deal of money.
She thanked Ye Li repeatedly, leaving him both ashamed and sympathetic.
In the end, it was poverty causing all this.
They had to earn more.
If Jiang Ji was buying lime and sawdust, then Ye Li would buy eggs.
He would make the first batch of preserved eggs today.
In half a month, they would be ready to sell.
He handed Jiang Liu fifty wen and asked her to purchase eggs from the villagers.
These were peaceful times. The past years had seen good harvests; prices were stable.
Egg sizes varied, but they were sold by weight—ten wen per jin.
Fifty wen would buy forty to fifty eggs.
Money on hand was limited.
For the first batch, fifty eggs would suffice to test the waters.
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