Chapter 7 Making Tofu

Chapter 7: Making Tofu

"My name is Meng Wan. When did you two get here?" Meng Wan found a spot downstream from them, tossed the fish onto the bank, found a stone, and quickly killed it.

Having spent years at his uncle and aunt's house, he'd done plenty of chores like cooking, washing clothes, and looking after children, and he was a pro at cleaning fish.

Xiao Mei was startled by how rough he was and blurted out, "You even know how to clean a fish!"

Meng Wan carried the fish to a large rock by the river, picked up the scissors, and began to gut it without looking up. "Doesn't everybody know how?"

"Yes, that's... right." Xiao Mei sounded a little guilty. She was the baby of the family, doted on by her parents. Sometimes she would slack off, and her mom let her get away with it. In the kitchen, her sisters-in-law did all the work; she just pretended to help, complaining about getting all dirty.

At her in-laws' house, her mother-in-law and eldest sister-in-law were in charge of cooking. She just went through the motions, helping out a bit, while her eldest sister-in-law, Zhu Ge'er, still did most of the work.

Zhu Ge'er glanced up at her. What married girl or guy didn't work day and night at household chores, scared of one word of criticism from their mother-in-law? But Xiao Mei, cherished by her parents and brothers at home, had married into a family where her sweet talk and charm made her mother-in-law like her.

Zhu Ge'er lowered her head and continued scrubbing clothes on the stone slab, trying to hide the envy in her eyes.

Meng Wan didn't get the unspoken tension between the sisters-in-law. He answered Xiao Mei's questions when she asked and occasionally initiated conversation. In no time, he'd scraped off the fish scales, cleaned the blood from the cavity, rinsed the scissors in the river, and stood up to go home.

"Hey, you're leaving? I'll go with you."

Xiao Mei had just gotten married and was eager to chat with someone her age. She had only washed a few pieces of her pile of clothes. She shoved the rest at Zhu Ge'er. "Sister-in-law, just rinse the rest of my clothes real quick. I'm going to hang out with Wan Ge'er for a bit."

Without waiting for Zhu Ge'er to answer, she got up and ran after Meng Wan.

Zhu Ge'er silently moved Xiao Mei's pile over to hers. All the clothes for the whole family of seven were there. She sighed softly and kept washing.

Xiao Mei was way too enthusiastic, chatting with Meng Wan all the way to the Song family's doorstep. Meng Wan stood at the door, making awkward small talk with no plan to invite her in. Inside, Chang Jinhua, who was sewing, heard the noise but saw no one come in after a while. She couldn't help but call out, "Wan Ge'er, why aren't you coming in? It's time to cook. Da Lang will be back around noon."

"Coming, Auntie, be right there!" Meng Wan replied, then looked at Xiao Mei, looking troubled. "I can't keep chatting with you today. My cousin's gonna be back soon, and I haven't started cooking yet."

Xiao Mei asked, puzzled, "Aren't you a guest? Since when does a guest cook?"

Meng Wan smiled. "I came here to stay with my aunt because I have no one else. How can I be considered a guest? I'm already grateful my aunt took me in and gave me food. I can't hang out today. We'll talk another time."

He realized Xiao Mei wasn't good at taking a hint, so he had to be blunt to get out of it.

"Alright then, you go cook. I'll come find you another day to play. Our houses are just one wall apart. If you call out, I'll hear you." Xiao Mei kept looking back as she headed home.

Meng Wan went inside and said a few words with Chang Jinhua. Aunt Song had already left. Every household had endless work; no one had time to sit around at someone else's house.

"Auntie, I'm back. I ran into the neighbor's new wife by the river. She followed me over and we chatted a bit."

Chang Jinhua was sewing and didn't look up. "It's good you talked to her. You're about the same age, you can get along. Go stew the fish now. The tofu is in the cupboard. Do you need me to light the fire for you?"

"No need, Auntie. I can manage on my own."

Meng Wan brought in some firewood from the yard, squatted in front of the stove, and skillfully lit the fire. He had already mastered this routine.

He cleaned the large pot, dried it over the heat, scooped a spoonful of lard from the jar, and added it to the pot. Once the oil was hot, he put the fish in and fried it until golden on both sides. Without taking it out, he used a spatula to move the fish to the side, added half a spoon of homemade fermented soybean paste, scallion segments, ginger, and garlic, and stir-fried over high heat until fragrant. Then he moved the fish back and added boiling water.

There were two pieces of tofu left in the cupboard. Meng Wan took one, cut it into neat cubes, and threw them into the fish broth. He added a pinch of salt and covered the pot.

The sugar was locked away by Chang Jinhua, and wine was also a precious commodity. Even with a few seasonings missing, the aroma of the fish still wafted far and wide.

Chang Jinhua came out and saw Meng Wan adding fuel to the stove. "Is it stewing?"

Meng Wan added two more thick logs. "It's stewing, Auntie. Should I put the bamboo steamer on to cook the rice?"

Chang Jinhua's brows relaxed at the rich aroma filling the house. "No need. I'll go scoop the rice and cook it. You go to the vegetable garden and pick some greens. The cucumber salad you made last time was good, better than mine. See if there are any left on the trellis."

"Okay."

Meng Wan scooped water from the outdoor vat to wash his hands and face. A head popped up over the neighboring wall.

"Wan Ge'er, what delicious food are you making at your place? The smell has drifted all the way to my house."

Xiao Mei was standing on something, peering over the wall at him.

Meng Wan was speechless. This wife was really outgoing.

"We're stewing fish."

Xiao Mei didn't mind getting her clothes dirty on the earthen wall. She continued to pry. "Is Song Da Lang coming back again?"

Meng Wan had gotten dust on his face from tending the stove. He first replied to her, "Yes, my cousin should be home soon."

Then he lowered his head to wash his face in the wooden basin.

Xiao Mei watched him wash his face and exclaimed again, "I wanted to say earlier, your skin is so fair."

"Hey, by the way, you..." Before Xiao Mei could finish, she saw her sister-in-law, Zhu Ge'er, carrying two large basins full of washed clothes. The basins were stacked on top of each other, and Zhu Ge'er was walking with difficulty.

"I'll talk to you later. My sister-in-law is back, and I need to help her hang the clothes." She climbed down from the wall to help Zhu Ge'er.

After she left, Meng Wan suddenly remembered that she and Zhu Ge'er had gone to wash clothes together that morning. How did she finish so early and leave, while Zhu Ge'er was only returning now?

More people meant more trouble. Fortunately, the Song family had a simple household.

Meng Wan lifted his face from the basin and wiped it. Without drying it, he went to the vegetable garden with his wet face to pick cucumbers.

The vegetable garden was right by the gate. As soon as someone entered, Meng Wan noticed. He poked his head out from among the cucumber vines and met the eyes of the person who had just arrived.

This was their second meeting. The autumn midday sun wasn't harsh; it cast a warm glow on people. Traces of water still clung to Meng Wan's face and brows. His skin looked translucent in the light, and the small red mole under his eye was strikingly alluring. His rosy lips parted, and a clear voice came out. "Cousin, you're back."

Song Tingzhou, carrying a bamboo bookcase, had traveled a long way and looked tired. But the moment he saw Meng Wan, he instinctively straightened his back. "Why are you calling me that?"

Meng Wan thought he didn't like it and lowered his voice. "Aunt Song told me to. Calling you 'young master' was too formal. She said to call you 'cousin' in public."

Song Tingzhou had a thousand thoughts, but only one word came out. "Mm."

Meng Wan was a bit afraid of him. Although they hadn't known each other long, he felt that this person was different from Chang Jinhua. Chang Jinhua was cold on the outside but kind on the inside. As for the man before him, he couldn't read him and dared not look.

"Cousin, go inside. I still need to pick some vegetables."

Song Tingzhou put down his bookcase. "I'll help you."

Meng Wan yanked off a cucumber that was right in front of him. "I'm done picking. Please, cousin."

He held the stunted cucumber and scurried into the kitchen. Song Tingzhou picked up his bookcase and clearly heard Chang Jinhua's scolding from the kitchen. "What a waste! Why did you pick such a small one? Wasn't there a big one on the trellis?"

Then came Meng Wan's soft, apologetic voice.

"I didn't see it."

"Auntie, I'm sorry. I'll go and bring the whole family of that big one to meet you right away."

"Heh." A faint smile flickered across Song Tingzhou's lips, then vanished, replaced by an overwhelming sense of shame and inadequacy.

Meng Wan was strikingly handsome, quick-witted and clever. He'd taken the county exams in Guyang a few times and had seen noble ladies out with their maids in tow, every move they made was measured and graceful, they were all elegance, whether sitting, standing, walking, or lounging. No wonder scholars admired them and secretly daydreamed.

Stories about romantic beauties and down-and-out scholars were the hottest sellers.

But Meng Wan was different from those aristocratic women. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he vaguely felt he wasn't worthy of him—not a match, not a fit.

A modest gentleman, but he couldn't help feeling inferior.

When Song Tingzhou returned, the household had another good meal. Chang Jinhua had the meat stewing, and rice was steaming in the fish pot, with a bamboo curtain in between.

Meng Wan was watching the fire in the kitchen while the mother and son talked inside, their voices neither loud nor soft, not trying to hide anything from him. He could catch bits and pieces.

"Wasn't your break supposed to come every ten days? Why'd it take so long this time?"

"I made plans with classmates to copy books at the bookstore. Here's the money I made from that. Take it, Mother. You don't have to wait till I'm back to eat meat."

"The family's not gonna starve anyway. Your studies come first. Copying books is just a side gig. What if it messes with your studies?"

"I only went on days off. I still go to the private school on regular days. Okay, keep the money. Don't worry about me."

Meng Wan made a cucumber salad, his mind racing: It looked like the Song family wasn't well-off either. Now with him as an extra mouth to feed, and Song Tingzhou's education being a major expense, just sitting around and burning through their savings wasn't a long-term solution.

He brought the cucumber salad to the table, cutting into the tense conversation between mother and son. "Auntie, the food's almost ready."

Chang Jinhua pushed aside the unfinished sewing on the kang and climbed down. "I'll go take a look."

Meng Wan followed her out to fetch the dishes. At the table, the Song family didn't have any strict rule about keeping quiet during meals. Chang Jinhua tasted the fish Meng Wan had stewed and said, "Wan Geer, you're really good at cooking." Usually, her own fish stew had a stubborn fishy smell and was barely edible. Even the fish served at village weddings, though better than hers, fell short of Wan Geer's.

Hearing this, Song Tingzhou also took a piece of fish and tasted it. "Is this... Wan Geer's work?"

Having one's cooking acknowledged was a joy. Meng Wan smiled and said, "I used a method from my hometown. Try the tofu too."

The tofu had been stewed long enough, soaking up the fish broth's sauce. One bite was both hot and fragrant, naturally delicious. That meal, the three of them barely touched the braised pork, finishing every bit of the fish and tofu, even mixing the sauce with rice and eating it all.

Song Tingzhou, tall as he was, ate five bowls of rice. Meng Wan had three.

Chang Jinhua felt both joy and worry. Meng Wan's cleverness and capability were good, but the family's limited funds were a reality.

That night, Song Tingzhou was to sleep in his small room. Meng Wan moved his bedding to the corner of the big room's kang. Later, as they lay down, they talked through the curtain.

"Auntie, how much is cousin's annual tuition?"

Chang Jinhua was surprised. "Why bring that up? The tuition isn't much—one and a half taels a year."

She hadn't finished. Meng Wan asked, "And the cost of brushes, ink, paper, and books?"

"Exactly. Those are the big expenses. The cheapest white hemp paper costs eighty wen per knife, and the lowest-grade brush is twenty wen."

"Those are manageable, but books are the worst. You read one and it's gone. I don't understand why books of the same thickness vary so much in price—some more expensive, some cheaper—but they all cost over a thousand wen."

Meng Wan was inwardly stunned. One tael of silver was roughly a thousand wen, enough for a poor family's yearly food and drink, yet it equaled just one book for a scholar? No wonder farmers' sons who studied were so rare.

"Auntie, do you think selling tofu at the market is profitable?"

Chang Jinhua's face had been clouded with worry over Song Tingzhou's educational expenses, but Meng Wan's sudden shift in topic caught her off guard. "Huh? You mean the tofu stall at the market?"

"That couple has a family recipe passed down through generations. They're the only ones in the area, aside from Old Wang's in town. Naturally, they do better than those who just farm the land."

Meng Wan ventured boldly, "What if we made tofu too? Could we sell it?"

Chang Jinhua laughed at his suggestion. "I told you, that's their family secret. How could we make it? Others have tried this trade, but their results were shapeless and sour—not fit to sell, barely edible themselves."

Meng Wan had made tofu while working at a breakfast shop. It was both hard and simple. "I know how. What if we made it at home and sold it at the market?"

Chang Jinhua sat up abruptly from under the covers. "You really know how?"

Meng Wan was startled by her sudden movement. "I've done it twice with an elder in my family. I think I can manage. How about I try tomorrow?"

Chang Jinhua was ecstatic. "That would be wonderful! Tomorrow morning, after I see Da Lang off, I'll go buy a few catties of soybeans from someone in the village."

"Auntie, let's start with a small amount to test it first."

"Alright, I understand. Go to sleep now, go to sleep."

The next morning, to avoid distracting Song Tingzhou with family matters, Chang Jinhua didn't mention the tofu trial.

She prepared his dry rations, saw him off, and immediately went to ask a familiar household about soybeans. It was autumn harvest time, and some farmers with more land had already begun reaping. One family had just threshed new beans, already hulled and sun-dried. Chang Jinhua bought four sheng—about eight catties.

At the market, new beans cost about three wen per catty. The villager charged her twenty-two wen for the lot and even threw in an extra handful.