The Overachieving Little Husband of the Top Scholar’s Household - Chapter 6: Procurement

Qiu Huanian placed the backpack basket on the ground. After obtaining Meng Yuanling’s permission, he took out two baskets and set them on the long table by the window of the tofu shop.

He first took a willow leaf, then lifted the white cloth covering the basket filled with sorghum candy. Picking up a sugar stick, his slender, fair fingers moved deftly a few times, wrapping the willow leaf horizontally around the lower end of the candy.

The tender green willow leaf contrasted against the ruby-like sorghum candy, making it look as beautiful as a flower.

“If you eat it wrapped in a willow leaf, your hands won’t get dirty.” Qiu Huanian handed each person a piece of sorghum candy wrapped in a leaf.

The customers buying tofu looked at the delicate and beautiful candy in their hands, unsure for a moment how to take a bite.

“This is really made from sorghum? How much does it cost?”

They wanted to confirm the price first—if it turned out to be too expensive, they would have nowhere to cry about it later.

Qiu Huanian smiled and said, “One wen per stick. Honest pricing for everyone. You’ll know what it’s made of once you taste it.”

One wen? Where could one find such cheap candy?

A few people hesitantly took a bite, and sure enough, they could taste a hint of sorghum, along with the flavor of red beets.

These were common ingredients in their daily lives, but they had never been turned into something so sweet, soft, and delicious. While they could recognize the ingredients, they had no idea how the candy was actually made.

A woman wearing silver earrings finished her candy and immediately made a decision. “One wen per stick, right? Give me ten!”

The others quickly followed suit, each buying a few sticks to take home for their families to try.

Qiu Huanian carefully wrapped each candy in willow leaves and placed them in their baskets, saying, “This candy is called sorghum taffy. I came up with it myself. From now on, I’ll be selling it next to the tofu shop every afternoon. If you want to buy some, just come find me.”

Just like that, he sold twenty-three sticks of sorghum taffy and earned twenty-three wen.

After the customers left, Meng Yuanling fished out a copper coin and handed it to Qiu Huanian. “Give me one too.”

Qiu Huanian pushed the money back. “Aren’t we friends? This one’s on me.”

Meng Yuanling grinned and held the sorghum candy up to the sunlight. “So this really is made from sorghum? It looks beautiful, like a flower.”

“My father and mother went home to rest after making tofu this morning. My eldest brother and sister-in-law are grinding soybeans in the back, and my second brother took the cart to deliver tofu to a family hosting a banquet in Li Village. I want to bring some for all of them to try.”

Meng Yuanling reached for his money again, but Qiu Huanian stopped him. “Since I’m selling candy in your family’s tofu shop today, consider this my rent for using your space.”

From then on, whenever someone came to buy tofu, Qiu Huanian and Meng Yuanling would also recommend the sorghum taffy.

Seeing that this unfamiliar candy was cheap, looked good, and had Meng Yuanling’s endorsement, many people happily bought one to try. After tasting it, nearly everyone came back for more.

When they returned home and spread the word about the candy to their neighbors, even more people came specifically to the tofu shop to buy sorghum taffy. Since they were already there, they would often pick up a block of tofu as well, which boosted the tofu shop’s business.

In less than four hours, all one hundred-plus sticks of candy that Qiu Huanian had brought were sold out, earning a total of 156 copper coins.

“I think we sold at least twenty extra blocks of tofu today. Huanian, you’re amazing!” Meng Yuanling excitedly counted the earnings.

Each block of tofu weighed half a jin and sold for three wen. Twenty blocks meant an additional sixty wen—a hefty handful of coins.

Qiu Huanian handed Meng Yuanling the sorghum taffy he had set aside for him. Meng Yuanling, in turn, cut a piece from the few remaining blocks of tofu, wrapped it in straw paper, and shoved it into Qiu Huanian’s backpack basket.

“If we’re friends, then I’ll treat you to some tofu too.”

As they exchanged their gifts, Meng Yuanling’s eldest brother and sister-in-law finished their work and came out from the backyard. Meng Yuanling introduced Qiu Huanian to them.

His eldest brother was honest and reserved, but his sister-in-law was a lively and efficient woman. She had already heard from Meng Yuanling the previous day about who Qiu Huanian was, so upon seeing him now, she immediately cut off another large piece of tofu, wrapped it up, and stuffed it into his hands.

“A small piece isn’t enough! We don’t have much else, but tofu we have plenty. Take as much as you want! From now on, whenever you come to town, just come straight to the tofu shop. No need to be polite.”

Qiu Huanian figured that perhaps because he had embarrassed Madam Zhao the other day, the Meng family now looked upon him quite favorably.

“Thank you, sister-in-law. In that case, I’ll be coming by every day from now on.”

“We’d be upset if you didn’t!”

…

There was still plenty of time before nightfall, so Qiu Huanian decided to wander around town and use some of his newly earned money to buy supplies.

Though Qingfu Town only had four short streets, it had everything one might need. There were butcher shops, spice shops, fabric shops, incense stores, and plenty of vendors selling live chickens and ducks, fresh vegetables and fruits, and various handmade trinkets.

With more than two hundred copper coins in hand and the ability to earn more, he could finally afford to spend a little.

First, he went to the butcher shop and spent 35 wen on a jin of pork with a good mix of fat and lean meat. He added another 5 wen for a few meat-stripped bones.

Next, he stopped by the spice shop and bought a jin each of ginger and chili peppers for 10 wen. As for pricier spices like Sichuan peppercorns and cinnamon, he still couldn’t afford those yet.

Across from the spice shop was a fabric store. The town only sold affordable cotton and linen—there was no market for silk or brocade.

Qiu Huanian browsed for a while. Most of the fabrics were in simple, dirt-resistant colors without any patterns.

Each bolt of fabric was thirteen meters long and 1.4 meters wide—enough to make three sets of short garments. With careful cutting, he could make outfits for Jiujiu, Chunsheng, and even Du Family’s eldest son, whom he had yet to meet. That way, everyone at home would have a new set of clothes.

Linen fabric cost 150 wen per bolt, while cotton fabric was 400 wen per bolt. Qiu Huanian did the math and decided to save up more before buying.

After that, he walked down all four short streets, one by one, and bought a bag of tooth powder, a packet of soap pods, and two half-grown hens in a cage, spending a total of 70 wen.

Finally, he entered the incense store.

Since it was neither the Qingming Festival nor the Ghost Festival, the incense shop was quiet. The small store felt dim and somber, the air filled with the scent of yellow paper and incense sticks.

“Who are you offering sacrifices for?” The shopkeeper looked up from behind the counter.

“A younger brother who passed away young,” Qiu Huanian replied.

“Was he married?”

“Not exactly.”

Although the original owner was sold to the Du family as a child bridegroom, by the time he arrived, the eldest son of the Du family had already gone off to study and had not yet formally held a wedding banquet, performed the marriage rites, or consummated the marriage. So strictly speaking, he was not yet married.

The shopkeeper sighed, seemingly lost in thought. “A person like that cannot have a tombstone. Just buy a bundle of incense and a stack of paper money, burn them at his burial site, and that will be enough to show your respect.”

Qiu Huanian nodded. “May I borrow some paper and a brush?”

The incense shop sometimes helped people write memorial texts, so it kept paper and writing tools on hand. The shopkeeper hesitated for a moment, surprised that this young man carrying two chicks could write, before saying, “A sheet of pre-cut xuan paper costs three wen.”

A full sheet of regular xuan paper also cost three wen, but since this was a smaller, pre-cut piece and included the use of ink and brushes, it was a fair price.

Qiu Huanian had studied calligraphy from a young age and naturally wrote in traditional characters. He agreed, and the shopkeeper brought him the brush, ink, and paper before returning to the counter.

Setting down his basket and the things in his hands, Qiu Huanian took a slow breath and began writing on the pristine white xuan paper with elegant strokes.

It was a memorial text, written by the modern-day Qiu Huanian in tribute to the Yu Dynasty’s Qiu Huanian, whose whereabouts were now unknown.

The text was not long, but each sentence was heartfelt. The one being mourned was named Qiu Huanian, and the one mourning him was also named Qiu Huanian. Anyone who saw it would find it eerie.

After writing the final character, Qiu Huanian read it over once, then carefully folded the paper and tucked it into his robe once the ink had dried.

Then, he spent twenty-five wen to buy the best bundle of incense and a stack of paper money from the shop.

In total, everything had cost him one hundred fifty wen. The money he had just earned was almost entirely spent again in no time.

Qiu Huanian did not feel regretful. Making money was meant to improve one’s life—if he just hoarded it without spending, how could his quality of life improve? What was the point?

Even if he wanted to save money, he could start tomorrow. On the first day of his business, he deserved to treat himself well.

With his hands full of goods, he walked for another two hours. By the time he finally made it home, the sky was dark, and he was utterly exhausted—but his heart felt full.

He had only eaten a few bites of wheat gluten on the road at midday. Now, he was tired and hungry. After putting away his things, he lay down on the heated brick bed, planning to rest for a while before picking up the children.

He had only been lying down for a short time when there was a knock at the courtyard gate. Qiu Huanian opened the door to find Hu Qiuyan standing there.

“I figured you must be exhausted today. When I heard you’d returned, I thought I’d bring the children over for you,” Hu Qiuyan said, holding a cooked ear of corn in her hand.

“The children have already eaten, but I saved you an ear of corn. Don’t bother lighting a fire to cook tonight—just eat this and rest early.”

At first, Hu Qiuyan had shown kindness out of consideration for Yunkang’s education, but after spending the past few days together, she had grown genuinely fond of this young man, who was not only good-looking but also had a wonderful personality.

That afternoon, both children had been remarkably well-behaved, helping her weave willow baskets. As an elder, Hu Qiuyan wanted to take care of them a little more.

Qiu Huanian thanked her, a wave of warmth washing over him. He felt an increasing sense of connection to this unfamiliar era.

After eating the corn, the hunger in his stomach finally eased. Qiu Huanian reorganized the items he had brought home.

He placed the two half-grown hens in the chicken coop, stored the tofu, meat, and bones in a deep jar in the storage room, and put everything else in its proper place.

Jiujiu and Chunsheng watched with wide eyes, utterly dumbfounded.

“Hua-gege, weren’t these things expensive?” Jiujiu asked hesitantly. She was old enough to understand their family’s financial struggles.

“They weren’t expensive. Everything I bought today cost less than what I earned today,” Qiu Huanian said with a smile, patting Jiujiu’s head.

Jiujiu had washed her hair at Hu Qiuyan’s house that afternoon, and it was now soft and fluffy, feeling nice under his hand.

“If I earn even more money, we might move to the city one day. You and Chunsheng could go to school, wear new clothes, and eat meat every day. Would you like that, Jiujiu?”

Jiujiu felt as if she could not quite understand what Hua-gege was saying. Moving to the city, wearing new clothes, going to school… Were these things really possible for her?

“…I want to eat meat,” she finally whispered.

Qiu Huanian laughed. “I’ll make some for you tomorrow at noon.”

“Oh, and don’t tell anyone else about me making money and buying things just yet, okay?”

The two children nodded in unison.

There was still plenty of sorghum starch and corn starch left, and there was nothing urgent to prepare that night. Qiu Huanian taught the children to brush their teeth with tooth powder, wash their faces and feet, and then go to bed.

Lying on the heated brick bed, Qiu Huanian mentally calculated the profit margin of his sorghum candy.

A catty of sorghum cost four wen, and two catties of sorghum could yield one catty of sorghum starch, which could make about sixty sticks of candy. Adding in red sugar beet, corn starch, and other ingredients, the total cost was around ten wen, while the total selling price was sixty wen.

This meant the profit margin for sorghum candy was a staggering 500%!

That figure sounded astonishing, but in reality, it had many limitations.

First, the price of each candy was extremely low—just one wen per stick. Second, the town’s consumer base was limited. Not everyone had spare money to buy candy every day, so sales would eventually plateau.

Based on today’s sales, Qiu Huanian estimated that once things stabilized, demand would decrease. At most, he could sell one hundred sticks per day in town, earning a net profit of eighty wen—roughly equivalent to forty modern yuan in purchasing power.

At this early stage, that was already a respectable amount, but it was still far from the grand vision he had painted for Jiujiu.

He would have to take things one step at a time, steadily saving and growing his business.

The next morning, he woke up naturally before the rooster crowed.

Working even faster than the day before, he used up the remaining sorghum starch to make more sorghum candy, filling the molds. Then, he woke the children and reheated the last bit of chicken and broth.

After breakfast, he told them to stay home and play.

He set aside a bowl of chicken and some sorghum candy in his basket, along with incense, paper money, the memorial text, and a fire starter. Then, he picked up the basket and headed out the door.