8 Chapter 008 Boasting
Translator: 549690339
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Partly because of Aunt Wen’s irascible temper, her two sons and daughter, who she had raised single-handedly since becoming a widow, had all left the village after they grew up. They couldn’t bear to live in the same village as her.
So Aunt Wen now lived alone, and her house was not far from the home of Butcher Hua, where Zhuang Qingning lived. It was also located at the entrance of the village.
It was just a house away to the east.
When they arrived at the entrance of Aunt Wen’s house, the wooden gate was open.
“Is Aunt Wen at home?” Zhuang Qingning called out loudly.
There was no response from inside the courtyard.
“Is Aunt Wen at home…”
“If you’re looking for someone, why don’t you go inside instead of standing at the entrance wailing like a ghost? If I don’t respond, are you going to keep shouting? Those who know would know that you’re looking for someone, but those who don’t might think you’re trying to bring the dead back to life!”
“What a way to start the morning, who knows what kind of sin I may have committed.”
A barrage of scolding ensued, but Mrs. Wen was nowhere in sight.
Zhuang Qingsui, scared, clung tightly to Zhuang Qingning’s sleeve, hiding behind her without daring to show her face.
Zhuang Qingning patted her hand to reassure her, then stepped into the courtyard and headed towards the hall.
In the hall, Mrs. Wen was having breakfast on a stool.
She was eating her cornmeal porridge with pickled mustard slowly and carefully.
“Aunt Wen,” Zhuang Qingning greeted with a smile.
Mrs. Wen glanced at Zhuang Qingning and Zhuang Qingsui but quickly looked away, continuing to eat her pickles leisurely. “I was wondering who it might be. It turns out to be Ning, the girl who just started a woman’s household in our village.”
“Aunt Wen, you knew about that?” Zhuang Qingning was surprised.
Only a few people might know about her status as a woman’s household Zhuang Jingye had established for her this morning. Even Zhuang Ruman, judging by their inaction, probably didn’t know yet and thought she had run away. Since her children moved away, Aunt Wen rarely went out. How did she know?
“In a village this small, people’s business travels fast. Even a fart you’d let out in your courtyard would spread its stench throughout the village in no time. I’m neither deaf nor blind, so how could I miss something as significant as someone creating a woman’s household?”
Mrs. Wen gave Zhuang Qingning a sidelong glance. “It’s been said that no one visits unless they’re after something. You came all this way bright and early, so spill it, what’s up?”
“To be frank, there are two things I need to discuss with you,” said Zhuang Qingning.
Zhuang Qingning laughed, “The first thing is, I want to rent your tofu workshop.”
After Zhuang Shengxing passed away, Mrs. Wen opened the tofu workshop. It was with this business that she was able to support her family and raise her three children.
Only in recent years, after her children each moved out and Mrs. Wen got older, the workshop was shut down because it was too much for her to handle alone.
Upon hearing this, Mrs. Wen paused her movement and glanced at Zhuang Qingning, “So that’s what you’re after.”
“I’m known for being forthright. Even if someone wants to buy my workshop, they might dream about it but never dare to open their mouth. You’re the first one to dare speak about this openly to me.”
“Before I agree or refuse, tell me about the second thing.”
“The second thing is, this morning while I was cooking, I made these cornmeal pancakes. I think they taste pretty good, so I brought some over for you, Aunt Wen,” Zhuang Qingning said, as she handed over the still warm pancakes.
Mrs. Wen, not being the least bit polite, took them and took a bite, nodding slightly. “Edible, but…”
“Where did you get these? Mrs. Song is known to be stingy, even if she allows you to cook, she’d measure the food herself. So how could you manage to pilfer food right under her nose?”
“Well, of course, I have my ways,” Zhuang Qingning responded with a smile.
“Indeed, every one of the Eight Immortals has his own magic tricks.” Mrs. Wen finished one of the pancakes, picked up another one, and continued eating.
“So, Aunt Wen, do you agree to rent me your tofu workshop?” Zhuang Qingning asked.
“What’s the deal, if I refuse, do I have to return these pancakes and can’t eat them anymore?” Mrs. Wen rolled her eyes.
“Of course not.”
Zhuang Qingning chuckled, “When you ask someone for a favor, it’s only right to show goodwill. Regardless of whether you agree or not, these pancakes were brought for you, Aunt Wen.”
“Besides, if I gave these to you before asking you for the favor, I’d be taking advantage of your situation and pressuring you into agreeing. That’s why I explained my intentions before presenting my gift.”
Whether you think it’s appropriate and want to accept the gift or not is entirely up to you. No need to feel troubled because you’ve accepted a gift and feel awkward about how to handle the situation.
Zhuang Qingning knew just how to act when trying to obtain someone’s favor. She was assertive but in a mild-mannered way.
“You’re a very interesting girl.”
Then Mrs. Wen continued, “Now let me ask you, why exactly do you want to rent my tofu workshop and why do you think I’d agree? Everyone in this village knows that I can be quite a hard nut to crack. This workshop is not just for anyone to rent.”
“To put it bluntly, it all depends on my mood. If I’m happy, I’d even give it away. But if I’m not, even if an emperor came to me I wouldn’t rent it.”
“I want to rent your tofu workshop because my sister and I have neither land nor a livelihood. Making tofu could support us.”
“As for why I think you’d agree…”
Zhuang Qingning flashed a grin, her eyebrows raised slightly, “That’s because, Aunt Wen, you and I are just alike. That’s why I think you’d agree with me.”
The same kind of person…
Mrs. Wen paused for a moment.
After a while, she asked Zhuang Qingning again, “And?”
“I can make tofu that tastes better than Aunt Wen’s,” Zhuang Qingning confidently answered.
Mrs. Wen was stunned.
This time, even Zhuang Qingsui, who had been hiding nervously behind Zhuang Qingning, was startled.
The tofu from Mrs. Wen’s workshop had always been renowned for its delicious taste.
It was precisely because Mrs. Wen produced such tasty tofu, despite her sour disposition, the business flourished and even ended up closing a competing tofu workshop in a nearby village.
Zhuang Qingning claimed that she could produce better-tasting tofu than Mrs. Wen?
“Little girl, already spouting big words at such a young age?” Mrs. Wen raised an eyebrow, staring directly at Zhuang Qingning, “Without bragging, no one in the ten or so surrounding villages can make tofu that tastes better than mine.”
