The Overachieving Little Husband of the Top Scholar’s Household - Chapter 59: Recipe Leak

A few days later, Fang Cai returned, bringing five carefully selected weavers who had signed contracts to Du Family Village to learn the yarn weaving technique.

All five weavers were under thirty years old, consisting of two ger and three women. Through chatting with them, Qiu Huanian learned that they were all from craftsman households, where every member of the family was engaged in handicraft production, a tradition passed down for generations.

The household registration system of Yu Dynasty was extremely strict. Once registered as a merchant, soldier, or craftsman household, one could not easily change status unless granted a great favor by the imperial court. Otherwise, an entire family would be bound to the same occupation for generations.

Ordinary farmers who engaged in handicrafts alongside farming and sold some of their own agricultural products were not classified as merchant or craftsman households. However, if they relied entirely on such trades for a living without cultivating land, the government would intervene and “reclassify” them.

Escaping or hiding was nearly impossible. Ancient times had a system of collective responsibility, meaning that if someone violated the law, neighbors and relatives would often report them to avoid being implicated. Furthermore, those who refused to be reclassified would not receive travel permits or business licenses from the government, making it impossible to earn a proper livelihood.

Craftsman households were more common in large cities, where residents lacked sufficient land to sustain their families and had to turn to handicraft production. Since arriving in this world, this was Qiu Huanian’s first time interacting with craftsman households. Through conversations with them, he gained much insight into ancient urban life.

Previously, his visit to Xiangping Prefecture for the examination had been a brief stay of just over ten days, but when living there long-term, he would have to deal with many different concerns.

For instance, how to buy water, how to dispose of night soil, how to manage waste, and how to purchase fresh fruits and vegetables—all of these things required money.

Merchant and craftsman households were not allowed to take the imperial examination. Since Du Yunse planned to pursue that path, Qiu Huanian had to abandon his idea of opening a small shop in the city to earn money.

Wealthy families who were entitled to use servants could register their businesses under their servants’ names to bypass the household registration restrictions. However, Qiu Huanian’s family was still of common status. They would have to wait until Du Yunse passed the provincial examination before they could consider such arrangements.

Fortunately, he had exchanged the  yarn weaving technique with Zhu Jingcheng for a very suitable house, saving them the cost of buying a residence. As long as they were frugal, the one hundred taels of silver they currently had would last a long time in the city.

Once Fang Cai left with the trained weavers, the first snowfall of the winter in the twenty-first year of Yuanhua arrived.

When Qiu Huanian opened his eyes in the morning, he felt that the room’s temperature was a little low. However, his blanket corners had been firmly tucked in, preventing him from being exposed to the cold while he slept.

As always, Du Yunse had risen at the fifth watch to study in the library. Qiu Huanian lazily yawned and noticed the white glow seeping through the paper-covered window.

After dressing, he opened the door, and a gust of cold wind carrying fine snowflakes swept into the room, making him shiver involuntarily and wake up completely.

Qiu Huanian quickly shut the door, took out a thick padded coat and a pair of small boots made of wild boar leather, and put them on. He also donned a hood lined with rabbit fur, its draping edges resting on his shoulders. The snowy white fur peeking from the inside was particularly attractive.

Once fully equipped, Qiu Huanian took a deep breath and opened the door again. The warmth and softness of his clothing completely shielded him from the cold.

The courtyard was covered in a three-inch-thick layer of snow. The white glow from the windows was the reflection of the accumulated snow. The cross-shaped paths in the center of the courtyard had only a thin layer of snow, with small piles gathered to the sides, likely cleared by Du Yunse earlier in the morning.

Following the covered corridor, Qiu Huanian walked to the west wing where Jiujiu lived. The corridor’s roof shielded him from the wind and snow, so he neither got wet nor dirtied his shoes.

Jiujiu was already awake, having just finished washing up and tidying her room. She was currently organizing her music scores.

“It’s snowing today, so the roads will be unsafe. The Song family’s carriage probably won’t come to pick you up,” Qiu Huanian said as he stepped inside.

Jiujiu nodded, “I’ll go over my music scores and practice on my own. Even if I don’t attend lessons at the Song residence, I can’t neglect my practice.”

Qiu Huanian glanced at her music scores. The complex and abstract notation was difficult to understand, but he could still recognize the song titles.

Pointing at one of them, he suggested, “Since it’s the first snowfall, why not play ‘Plucking Plum Blossoms and Hearing Snow’ to match the occasion?”

Jiujiu readily agreed. Under Qiu Huanian’s supervision, she changed into warm clothes as insulated as his, moved her zither stool to the corridor, and laid the instrument across her lap. Facing the falling snow, she began to play.

The elegant and serene sound of the guqin blended with the cold wind and drifting snow, resonating throughout the courtyard.

Du Yunse put down his book and stepped outside the library, silently listening to the music. Chunsheng, awakened by the melody, hurriedly dressed and rushed out. Seeing his sister playing across the courtyard, he fell silent.

As the piece ended, Qiu Huanian was the first to clap. “Jiujiu’s playing has improved. I don’t think she’s any worse than the masters.”

Jiujiu blushed and said humbly, “I’m just a beginner. There’s still a long way to go before I reach their level.”

She glanced toward her elder brother, who stood beside the library door. Du Yunse nodded approvingly, “Your technique is still a bit raw, but you’ve captured the essence of the piece.”

Chunsheng, finally free from the music, excitedly ran over and asked, “Hua-gege, what’s for breakfast?”

Qiu Huanian tapped his forehead. “Why did you run out in thin shoes? Go back and put on proper clothes. For breakfast, we’ll start with some porridge, then I’ll check the village for any meat.”

Qiu Huanian headed to the kitchen, took half a bowl of white rice, and washed it clean. He lit the stove and began cooking porridge. As the fire warmed up the kitchen, the room’s temperature rose noticeably, and his hands were no longer cold. He chopped a small handful of dried shrimp and half a head of cabbage stored in the pantry, adding them to the pot to make a simple shrimp and cabbage porridge.

After a snowfall, the village would be bustling with activity—livestock needed tending, and people had to prepare their winter supplies.

Qiu Huanian’s family only raised a few chickens and a mule, so there was no urgent need. After putting the porridge into the pot to cook, he went to the garden in the back to check on things.

The chicken coop and stable had been newly built during the summer when they renovated the house. A single winter snowfall wouldn’t be enough to collapse them. When Qiu Huanian arrived, the strong Qinghua mule was smartly standing at the innermost part of the stable, avoiding the snow blown in by the wind. Seeing Qiu Huanian, it flicked its tail and let out a loud snort.

There wasn’t much work to do in Qiu Huanian’s household, and the livestock were well-fed. This mule was even sturdier than when it was first bought. Its sleek, glossy black-blue coat stood out vividly against the snowy backdrop.

Qiu Huanian smiled, added some hay stored before winter into the feeding trough, patted the mule’s ears as it lowered its head to eat, and then continued to check the chicken coop.

The coop’s framework was sturdy, but the straw lining the walls had been blown open in one spot by the wind. A few hens were huddled together in the corner, stacked on top of each other for warmth.

Qiu Huanian went to the woodshed and brought back a large bundle of straw. His family hadn’t grown rice this year, so during the autumn harvest, he spent more than ten copper coins to collect several cartloads of straw from the villagers, preparing for winter use.

He spread the thick straw evenly across the coop to ensure the chickens wouldn’t freeze to death. Then he scattered some feed and collected a few freshly laid eggs.

Back in the front yard, Jiujiu had already taken out the thick door curtains they had sewn earlier.

The fabric was entirely red with green edges, and two pounds of cotton were stuffed inside each one. They were hung over several doors, completely blocking out the cold winter wind and snow.

Qiu Huanian’s household was well-prepared for winter, but not every family in the village was as fortunate. Several households had livestock pens that had fallen into disrepair over the years and hadn’t made preparations in advance, leading to their animals freezing to death.

To minimize their losses, they had no choice but to quickly butcher the frozen livestock and go door-to-door in the village, asking if anyone was willing to buy the meat.

The most commonly frozen livestock were chickens and ducks. These small animals had poor resistance to the cold and would become stiff within a few hours if left exposed to the snow. For farmers, raising a few animals throughout the year was not easy—they were valuable assets, and not every family could afford to keep the frozen livestock for their own consumption.

Qiu Huanian bought a chicken and a duck. Other relatively well-off families in the village, such as the village chief’s household, Hu Qiuyan’s family, and Wei Liuhua’s family, also purchased some to help their fellow villagers reduce their losses as much as possible.

Besides chickens and ducks, a large livestock animal had also frozen to death in the village. The old sheep with a broken leg from Baozhen’s family had perished in their drafty pen.

Sheep were far more resistant to the cold than chickens and ducks. If this old sheep hadn’t been so aged and crippled, it wouldn’t have frozen to death in the collapsed pen.

Baozhen’s family had been struggling ever since their youngest son was conscripted to serve at the border and lost an arm. Now, with winter just beginning and the loss of a sheep, their misfortune was only compounded.

They had originally planned to sell the sheep during the winter when mutton prices were high, saving the money for their youngest son’s future marriage and household expenses. Now, they could only salvage what they could by selling as much of it as possible.

After butchering the sheep, they got thirty pounds of meat, a sheepskin, and some innards and bones that weren’t worth much.

Normally, selling a whole sheep would bring in about three taels of silver, but now, they weren’t even sure if they could get half that amount. The retail price of mutton was sixty copper coins per pound, and not everyone in the countryside could afford it. Selling it outside the village wouldn’t be easy either.

Ye Taohong, whose husband Bao Yi was also serving in the military at the border, sympathized with Baozhen’s family. After discussing it with her father-in-law, she bought six pounds of mutton. With so many mouths to feed in her household, a little indulgence would be gone within two or three days.

Qiu Huanian bought two pounds of mutton, but his eyes were on the sheepskin. He spent an entire tael of silver to buy it, greatly reducing Baozhen’s family’s financial loss.

Once winter set in, with no fieldwork to do and the cold keeping people indoors, Qiu Huanian focused all his energy on studying new dishes. In less than a month, he had grown noticeably rounder.

Before going to bed that night, he removed his outer clothing, leaving only his inner garments, and pinched the soft flesh on his waist with both hands, sighing deeply.

Du Yunse lifted a corner of the door curtain, pushed the door open, and carefully restored the curtain to prevent the cold wind from blowing in.

“Hua-ge’er, why are you sighing?”

Qiu Huanian wore a serious expression. “I’ve discovered a very serious problem.”

Du Yunse, thinking something had happened, quickly asked, “What is it?”

“I think I’ve gained weight. There’s fat on my waist now.”

“…”

After a moment, Du Yunse chuckled and sighed. “That’s not fat—you’ve just gotten healthier. If this counts as being fat, then are there any thin people left in the world?”

Qiu Huanian shook his head. “You don’t believe me? It’s just that my clothes hide it. Look at my waist, I really have gained weight.”

He turned slightly to the side and pinched the soft flesh on his waist. His short inner garment lifted slightly, revealing a portion of his fair and elegant waistline.

Du Yunse’s breath caught, and he unconsciously stepped closer to his unaware husband.

“Let me see,” Du Yunse said hoarsely.

His large hand covered Qiu Huanian’s, slowly rubbing the same spot over the fabric. Caught off guard, Qiu Huanian’s waist softened, and his face flushed red.

“You…”

“Didn’t Hua-ge’er ask me to check if you’ve gained weight?” Du Yunse asked with an innocent expression.

Qiu Huanian opened his mouth but gave up, lying down on the heated brick bed and pulling the blanket over his face, leaving only his eyes exposed.

Du Yunse’s hand remained on Qiu Huanian’s waist, gently kneading as if teasing through a layer of cloth. Qiu Huanian hugged the blanket tightly and whispered a complaint, “Du Yunse, you’ve learned bad things.”

Du Yunse chuckled softly. His hand traced Qiu Huanian’s slender yet subtly soft waist, kneading the thin layer of flesh until it warmed. The hem of the inner garment shifted slightly, revealing a strip of delicate, reddened skin. A fine layer of sweat formed, glistening under the warm indoor light.

Qiu Huanian curled his toes, letting out a few quiet whimpers before murmuring a weak warning, “If you keep this up, I won’t let you off unless you go all the way.”

Du Yunse suppressed the heat in his gaze and said with a straight face, “What is Hua-ge’er talking about? I’m just checking if you’ve really gained weight.”

As he spoke, he pinched twice more. “Just a bit of softness—it actually looks better. And the feel is excellent.”

Qiu Huanian ground his molars. He had really learned bad things. The once disciplined and refined gentleman had become a shameless rogue!

If the day ever came when they truly crossed the final line, Qiu Huanian dared not imagine what Du Yunse would be like then.

Narrowing his eyes, Qiu Huanian suddenly tackled Du Yunse onto the heated bed, burying his face in his embrace and biting down on his thin, pale lips.

Du Yunse’s eyes filled with amusement. He let Qiu Huanian take the lead without resistance, making sure he wouldn’t hurt himself. One arm wrapped around Qiu Huanian’s waist, while the other cupped the back of his head, subtly drawing them closer.

Outside, the cold wind howled, pounding against the paper windows and door curtains. The fire in the stove crackled warmly, casting a faint glow over the intimate scene within.

…

After winter set in, with the cold weather and lingering snow, sales of sorghum candy slowed significantly. Monthly revenue dropped to just five or six taels of silver, and after splitting the profits, only about three taels remained.

Meng Wudong, when he came to settle accounts, looked deeply troubled. After all, during the summer, when sales were at their peak, the monthly revenue had been close to twelve taels.

Qiu Huanian reassured him, “Seasonal fluctuations in sales are normal. With winter hardships—houses collapsing under the snow, livestock freezing to death—sorghum candy isn’t a necessity. Naturally, people will buy less.”

Meng Wudong shook his head. “I understand that, but by my calculations, the drop shouldn’t be this drastic.”

“What do you think is the problem?” Qiu Huanian asked.

“The sales in villages and towns—I expected those to drop. But the stores in the county town shouldn’t have lost this much business.”

“There are plenty of well-off families in the county, and the weather wouldn’t impact them as much.”

“This month, the county stores cut their orders by seventy to eighty percent. When I asked, they just said business was bad and that there weren’t enough buyers.”

“I found it suspicious and spent a few days monitoring the shops. Their business was clearly better than they claimed, and plenty of people were still buying sorghum candy.”

“I even sent someone to buy from a few shops, and when I checked, some of the sorghum candy wasn’t yours, Hua-ge’er.”

“They’re selling counterfeits?”

Since Qiu Huanian made sorghum candy, this affordable and delicious treat has become popular in Zhang County over the past year, even spreading to several neighboring counties. With booming business, naturally, there were those who coveted it and tried to imitate it. Several knock-offs had already appeared on the market, but none quite measured up to the ones made by Qiu Huanian.

“Hua-ge’er, look, this time the imitation is really convincing—it could almost pass for the real thing.”

Meng Wudong had come specially to bring some of these imitation candies sold by other shops. Qiu Huanian took them and examined them carefully. The sorghum candy in his hand closely resembled his own in color and semi-translucent texture. When he placed it in his mouth to taste, the texture and sweetness were also nearly identical.

This was strange.

The principle behind sorghum candy was simply using gelatinized starch as a base, with sugar beets providing sweetness and fragrance. The technical difficulty wasn’t high, and the real challenge in imitation lay in realizing that “starch” was the key ingredient.

Previously, Meng Wudong had also brought Qiu Huanian some counterfeit versions to examine. Most of them had failed to completely refine the starch, so their texture and appearance fell short.

Qiu Huanian never doubted the wisdom of the ancients. He believed that, sooner or later, someone would figure out the secret of sorghum candy. But there had been no warning signs, and suddenly, in an extremely short time, someone had broken through the starch barrier and completely replicated both the taste and appearance of his sorghum candy. This was not a simple matter.

This meant that the other party had somehow obtained all of Qiu Huanian’ candy-making steps and even the exact ingredient proportions without much effort.

Meng Wudong sensed that something was wrong—he was not one to take losses lightly and had already started investigating.

“I staked out those shops for a few days and discovered that they all sourced their sorghum candy from a merchant named Wei Dexing. I asked a sworn brother of mine in the county town to invite Wei Dexing out for drinks and gather information. Wei Dexing is just a lightweight—after a few compliments and too much liquor, he couldn’t hold his tongue anymore.”

When Qiu Huanian heard the name Wei Dexing, his brows furrowed, but he motioned for Meng Wudong to continue speaking. “What did Wei Dexing say?”

“At first, he claimed that his sorghum candy recipe was developed by his own servants through trial and error. My brother pretended not to believe him, which made Wei Dexing reveal more.”

“Wei Dexing said that he bought information from the neighbor of the original sorghum candy maker. He learned exactly what ingredients were used, how they were processed, how many steps were involved, what tools were used, and even the exact material consumption ratios. With all that, how could he possibly fail to recreate the recipe?”

“…”

Qiu Huanian’ eyes turned cold. He raised a hand, signaling the anxious-looking Jiujiu to stay silent for now.

Meng Wudong said, “Hua-ge’er, I don’t mean to sow discord between neighbors, but you should still look into this carefully.”

“Wei Dexing has better connections in the county than I do. If the sorghum candy recipe leaks further, our profits will take a massive hit.”

“If it really was a neighbor who sold the information, then since you see each other day in and day out, there’s no telling what trouble they might stir up next. You won’t be able to guard against them!”

Qiu Huanian nodded. “No need to investigate—I already know who it is.”

Meng Wudong immediately slapped his thigh. “Who? Tell me, Hua-ge’er! I’ll go right over and set things straight!”

Meng Wudong was counting on making extra money this winter to save up for his younger sister’s dowry. The leak of the sorghum candy recipe threatened his livelihood, and he was already fuming with anger.

Qiu Huanian said in a deep voice, “Since this concerns the people in our village, Meng Er-ge, please go to the clan elder’s house first and invite someone over. Then, we’ll go together.”

Once Meng Wudong had hurried off, Jiujiu, full of self-reproach, said, “Hua-ge, when you went to the prefectural city, I stayed home making sorghum candy. Sometimes, Auntie Zhuang would come by to borrow the mule or bring over some snacks. Seeing that I was busy, she’d even lend a hand. I never thought to guard against her. I… I…”

After the new house was built, Qiu Huanian made sorghum candy inside the kitchen, so the leak had to have happened earlier.

Auntie Zhuang had watched Jiujiu grow up. In the past, Jiujiu had even gone up the mountain with her to gather wild vegetables. The idea that such a longtime neighbor would betray the recipe, and that his own carelessness had caused a major financial loss to the family, made Jiujiu’s heart ache.

Qiu Huanian patted Jiujiu’s head and said gently, “These things are hard to guard against. It’s easy to keep an eye on honorable people, but difficult to prevent schemers. We live close to each other—if someone was determined to spy, they would always find a way. You are not to blame.”

Before the new house was built, when the stove was still outside and the courtyard walls were low, anyone passing by could take a few extra glances. If they really wanted to, they could even set up a ladder to get a clear view of how Qiu Huanian made his sorghum candy. What Jiujiu described was only one possibility.

Jiujiu still felt terrible. “Why would Auntie Zhuang do this?”

Qiu Huanian had always sympathized with Auntie Zhuang’s hardships as a widow. He had always lent her the mule for free and often shared good food with her. When he bought her garden, he had even paid a high price for it.

Jiujiu had always been grateful for Auntie Zhuang’s care. Before Yu Chuan and his mother arrived, he often helped her with chores. Later, when Yu Chuan and the others kept causing trouble, the two families gradually drifted apart, but Jiujiu had never held any grudges against her.

“People are the hardest to predict. Even good people can turn bad for various reasons. Let’s go ask her together.”

Qiu Huanian didn’t make Jiujiu avoid the confrontation—this was an important life lesson that he had to face sooner or later.

Meng Wudong returned with Bao Ren, and the group walked to Auntie Zhuang’s house and knocked on her weathered wooden door.

After a while, someone finally came to open it. As soon as the door swung open, Qiu Huanian caught the scent of stewed meat.

Auntie Zhuang saw Qiu Huanian and immediately looked evasive. Then she noticed Meng Wudong and Bao Ren, and her face turned pale as if she had realized something.

She forced a smile and asked, “Hua-ge’er, what brings you all here?”

Qiu Huanian patted Jiujiu’s shoulder. “Auntie, are you stewing meat? It smells like lamb to me—that’s good stuff, sixty wen per pound. Congratulations on your newfound wealth.”

Auntie Zhuang wrung her hands repeatedly. “How could I compare to you, Hua-ge’er? Winter is hard to get through, so I just scraped together a little to give the children a treat.”

Qiu Huanian chuckled. “Wei Dexing is really stingy, isn’t he? That’s a recipe worth at least a dozen taels of silver per month, and all you got was enough money for some lamb stew?”

Hearing Wei Dexing’s name, the last bit of hope in Auntie Zhuang’s heart shattered. Her mouth hung open, but she couldn’t say a word.

Zirong, hearing the commotion outside, walked out. After spending a few months in the village, her face had lost some of its delicate beauty and was now touched by wind and frost. She no longer looked as youthful and charming as before, but the hairpins and ornaments that had once disappeared were now back on her.

Zirong raised her eyebrows and glanced at Qiu Huanian and the others, unable to hide her smugness. “In the dead of winter, instead of staying warm at home, you all came running here just to spout nonsense?”