Transmigrated as an Unwanted Ugly Girl-Chapter 83 - 49: Made a Profit (2)

Li Changyu smiled. "You’re being pretty fair. To be honest, if your restaurant does well with this dish, this price is actually too low! But like Juhua said, its success depends on your ability. Since she’s not making a fuss, I won’t say any more."

Seeing Li Changyu’s indignation on her behalf, Chen Yu could only shake his head.

Zheng Changhe was dumbfounded when he heard this. ’A single recipe for that much money? The children’s mother has been working herself to the bone for days and hasn’t even made twenty taels, and that’s with the whole family helping out!’ He didn’t dare to speak, afraid he would say the wrong thing and embarrass himself.

Only Juhua understood the situation clearly. ’This isn’t really a huge amount,’ she thought. ’It’s just an advance on future earnings. If our family kept selling this stew, for instance, we could make a hundred or so taels a year. How much would that add up to over a few years? And a restaurant would earn much, much more, right?’

Besides, she didn’t want to be greedy. Her original goal wasn’t about this anyway.

This little venture was something she had come up with out of desperation when the family was destitute, just hoping to earn enough money for new quilts and winter clothes. Now that it had brought in an unexpected windfall, she was more than content and had no intention of wasting her breath haggling for more.

So Juhua gave a small smile and said, "I trust you, Mr. Chen. Let’s go with your offer."

Chen Yu watched her eyes curve into crescents as she smiled, and he was momentarily stunned. Then, he smiled back at her and said, "In that case, Miss Juhua, you may write down the recipe now."

Delighted that the deal was settled, Juhua stood up. "I’ll write it for you now!" As she spoke, she turned to go.

But then she remembered she was supposed to be illiterate and stopped in her tracks. "Oh, I can’t write," she said to them. "I’ll dictate. Who can write it down?"

Li Changyu exclaimed, "You must know how to write! You just said you’d write it yourself."

’You and your sharp ears!’ Juhua thought, annoyed. "I really can’t write," she said peevishly.

Li Changyu insisted, "You definitely can!"

"I can’t!"

"You definitely can!"

Li Changfeng shot Changyu a glare, silencing him.

Although Chen Yu was a bit puzzled, he didn’t press the matter. Smiling, he rose and followed Juhua into the house.

Juhua laid out her brother’s ink and brush on the old table and recited six recipes for him, including dishes with fancy names like "Pork Stomach Stuffed with Chicken" and "Nine-Turn Braised Intestines." Only, she changed them to sound more rustic, calling them "Pork Stomach and Chicken Stew" and "Braised Large Intestines."

She had modified the detailed instructions for every dish. The reason? A lack of proper seasonings! The ingredients she had on hand were basic: chili peppers, garlic, fennel (star anise), cinnamon, and soy sauce, with the occasional addition of white sugar. Sugar was expensive, so she used it sparingly, and even sesame oil was a rarity.

’Still, this should be enough,’ she thought. ’Country folk rely on staples like ginger, garlic, and chili peppers for their cooking. Who has all those strange and exotic seasonings? The taste of farmhouse cuisine is wonderfully authentic. Of course, the quality of the ingredients is a major reason for that, too.’

As she dictated, Chen Yu wrote, and soon his wrist began to ache. Sheets of paper, densely packed with his script, spread across the entire table. It was obvious that writing with an ink brush was a laborious task.

In the middle of their work, Qingmu returned from his studies. He was quite surprised to see Li Changfeng and Li Changyu sitting in his family’s courtyard. The two brothers had left to study in Qinghui County several years ago and had rarely associated with their peers in the village since.

Li Changyu, however, greeted him warmly, getting to his feet. "Brother Qingmu, back from your lessons?"

Qingmu nodded at him, his gaze then sweeping over to Manager Mao.

Li Changfeng quickly stood up as well to greet him, then took it upon himself to explain the reason for their visit and what had just transpired.

Qingmu was taken aback. When he saw that Juhua was alone in the room with that Mr. Chen, he inwardly cursed his father for being so careless. He rushed into the main hall, calling out, "Juhua!"

Seeing her brother, Juhua happily went over and tugged his sleeve. She gave him a little wink and whispered, "Brother, you’re back? Oh dear! I haven’t even started lunch yet."

Having just earned a large sum of money, she was in a fantastic mood, her smile making her eyes crinkle into little crescents.

Seeing Qingmu, Chen Yu couldn’t help but marvel inwardly. ’This brother and sister are both such exceptional people. It’s a shame they were born in a mountain village like this.’

He smiled and clasped his hands in a formal greeting. "Brother Zheng, I am Chen Yu of Xiatang Market. Please forgive my unannounced visit today; it is a great discourtesy." Seeing that Qingmu was also a man of letters, he naturally observed the proper etiquette.

Qingmu quickly returned the gesture, a faint blush on his cheeks. He didn’t say much, only asking Juhua softly, "Is it all written down?" ’My sister never ceases to amaze me,’ he thought. ’Selling recipes for money... I’m honestly speechless.’

Juhua glanced at Chen Yu. "The recipes are all written down," she said. "I was just wondering if Mr. Chen would also like me to cook each dish once, to show your Shopkeeper?"

Chen Yu’s eyes lit up. "That would be wonderful, naturally," he said with a smile. "But a couple of the dishes are quite complicated. I’m afraid they can’t be prepared in a short time, and I would hate to impose on you, Miss." The Braised Large Intestines, for example, had to be blanched, boiled, deep-fried, and finally braised—a very long process.

Juhua thought for a moment. "My mother should be back soon. With her help, things will go faster. If you’re not in a hurry, you can wait. I’ll teach Manager Mao how to make each dish, one by one. Once they’re cooked, we can all eat together as a thank you! Lunch will be a bit late, though, so I hope you don’t mind."

Chen Yu smiled. "We would be imposing, Miss. But this is precisely why we came today, so we are in no hurry at all."

When Mrs. Yang returned from selling vegetables and heard what had happened from Zheng Changhe, she was overjoyed. Full of excitement, she immediately went to the kitchen to help Juhua.

While she was busy, Juhua suddenly remembered something. She quietly pulled her brother aside and spoke to him for a moment.

Qingmu nodded repeatedly as he listened. Then, he went outside to speak with Chen Yu. "Mr. Chen, now that we’ve sold these recipes to you, we will certainly not share them with anyone else. However, the method for cleaning pig offal will likely get out sooner or later. We can’t turn our backs on our family and friends. If they come asking, how can we keep refusing to tell them? When the method becomes common knowledge and the price of offal goes up, you can’t blame us for being untrustworthy."

Chen Yu thought quietly for a moment. He agreed that it would be very difficult to keep the method a secret. Besides, Juhua’s family wasn’t trying to undermine him; if the method leaked, their own business would suffer just the same. He nodded. "What Brother Zheng says makes sense. If the secret gets out, I won’t blame your family."

But Qingmu replied, "A verbal promise isn’t enough. It would be better to have it in writing."

Chen Yu was a little surprised by this. ’He’s remarkably prudent!’ he thought.

The idea, of course, had come from Juhua. She had calculated that the secret wouldn’t last long, so she told Qingmu to have Chen Yu sign a contract that explicitly noted this issue to prevent future disputes.

Thus, the two parties drew up another contract, clearly stipulating the confidentiality of the recipes themselves, as well as the point that the offal-cleaning method could not be guaranteed a secret.

To teach Manager Mao, Juhua needed to demonstrate each step. She freed up a wok, set up an extra wood-burning stove, and soon the kitchen was bustling. With a flurry of pan-frying, deep-frying, stir-frying, stewing, braising, boiling, and mixing, fragrant aromas began to drift far from the house.

Qingmu couldn’t wait for the grand meal; he ate quickly and left for the academy, taking a portion of food for his teacher with him.

Li Changfeng’s mother, Mrs. Fang, came to call her sons home for lunch, but she couldn’t persuade them to leave. Instead, Zheng Changhe went over to their house and invited the village head, Li Gengtian, to come and join them as a host.

A quiet request for recommendations and to add this to your collection!