She actually thought the price was reasonable, but she just wanted to haggle a bit more.
To her surprise, the seller didn’t play by the rules at all—instead, she outright told her to go eat plain steamed buns!
Tch, as if some fancy cake was such a big deal. With that kind of money, she could’ve bought meat buns instead.
Thinking this, the middle-aged woman immediately sneered, "City folks really don’t know the market or the struggles of common people. Selling at such a high price—who’d even buy from you?"
With that, she grabbed her grandson’s hand and turned to leave.
But the boy suddenly yanked his hand free and wailed, "Grandma, I want cake! I want cake! I don’t want steamed buns—buy it for me now!"
The woman: "......"
Si Nian wasn’t the least bit bothered by the woman’s attempt to pressure her. Calmly, she took out a piece of osmanthus cake, generously sprinkled with sesame seeds and osmanthus flowers, from the foam box and cut it into small pieces. She handed them out to the surrounding adults and the eager children—but deliberately skipped the woman and her grandson.
With a composed tone, she said, "Don’t worry, everyone. I, Si Nian, don’t believe in forcing sales. Try it first—if you like the taste and think it’s worth the price, then buy. If not, no hard feelings."
The woman’s grandson grew frantic when he saw Si Nian ignoring him. In a fit of anger, he plopped onto the ground and burst into loud sobs. "It’s all your fault, Grandma! Now she won’t give us any! I want it, I want it, I want it now!"
The other children, startled by his tantrum, hid behind their parents.
Those who tasted the cake immediately brightened. "So sweet and fragrant! You must’ve used a lot of sugar in this!"
Si Nian replied, "It’s made with pure white sugar and honey—completely healthy."
"Then 25 cents isn’t expensive at all! Aren’t you losing money?"
Pure white sugar, and even honey? No wonder so many people had tried to learn the recipe but gave up—this was why!
The crowd murmured in amazement.
Si Nian smiled. "We’re all neighbors here, so of course I’d give you a friendly price. In town, I sell it for 50 cents."
Pleased by this, the crowd quickly gathered around. "Alright then, give me two pounds."
"I’ll take two pounds too."
"And some of this mung bean cake as well."
The dissatisfied woman was pushed aside by the eager buyers.
Just moments ago, she’d confidently declared no one would buy, but now, faced with the bustling crowd, her face flushed with humiliation.
Seeing everyone buying so much, she grew anxious. Her grandson was still bawling beside her, but her pride wouldn’t let her back down. In frustration, she took it out on the boy, smacking his backside twice before dragging him away.
Only after they left did the onlookers whisper to Si Nian, "Don’t take it to heart. Sister-in-law Luo has always been like that—always looking for a bargain."
Si Nian simply nodded. In business, you meet all kinds of people. She was used to it.
Her past clients had been far more difficult. This was nothing.
Still, it was exactly why she’d insisted on coming today. She knew her mother and sister-in-law were too soft-spoken and inexperienced in business. Had they been the ones dealing with this situation, they’d probably have lowered the price.
The street was crowded, and as soon as she opened the box, the rich aroma wafted everywhere.
Plus, Si Nian was young and pretty, and her bicycle stood out even more.
Human nature's love for joining in the fun immediately came into play. Seeing so many people crowding around to buy, everyone assumed it must be something special. Watching others enjoy it, they couldn’t resist buying a piece to try.
But one bite was all it took to be utterly astonished.
Who knew something so fragrant, sweet, and melt-in-your-mouth delicious could exist—and at such an affordable price? The rich flavor lingered delightfully on the palate.
Those who had only bought a single piece quickly turned back to purchase two whole jin, eager to share it with their families.
The price was truly reasonable—after all, even a jin of plain steamed buns cost several mao.
Steamed buns were dry and bland, with little taste.
But these pastries were soft, fragrant, and subtly sweet, becoming more addictive with every bite.
Only a fool would choose steamed buns over these.
Si Nian hadn’t expected such brisk sales. Before she even reached town, her pastries were nearly sold out.
As the sun rose steadily in the east, she wiped sweat from her brow.
Just as she entered the town, a small car pulled up behind her.
"Wait, comrade, wait!"
Si Nian turned her head and saw a white sedan. A round-faced man leaned out the window.
The man looked surprised. "It really is Little Zhou’s wife! I spotted you from afar but thought I must be mistaken. Doesn’t Zhou Yueshen make good money from his pig farm? Why are you out here doing business?"
Si Nian recognized him instantly—one of the big shots who had attended their wedding, Boss Wang from the department store. He’d even gifted her a gold pendant back then.
She stopped her bicycle and greeted him warmly. "Uncle Wang, what brings you here?"
"I came to the village to check on goods and was heading back to the city. I saw you from a distance—what are you selling? It smells amazing!"
His department store thrived precisely because he sourced fresh, affordable goods directly from rural areas.
Of course, his partnership with the Zhou family’s pork business wasn’t just about that. His son had once served under Zhou Yueshen in the military, and Zhou had taken good care of him during missions. When he later heard Zhou had started a pig farm, Boss Wang was the first to invest.
Thus, the two families had an excellent relationship.
"Osmanthus cake. Let me pack some for you to try."
Si Nian handed him a small bag.
Boss Wang’s plump figure made it clear he loved food, and he didn’t hold back. His round face, though fleshy, wasn’t greasy—instead, his cheerful grin made him look like a merry Buddha.
He took a bite, expecting just another rustic snack, but the moment it touched his tongue, his eyes widened in surprise.
"My goodness! This cake is incredible! Did you make it yourself?"
No wonder so many people had been crowding around earlier—it was unbelievably delicious.
Si Nian shook her head. "My mother made it. I’m just helping her sell it in town."
"Ah, that explains it. I was wondering why Little Zhou, with all his wealth, would have you out here so early." Boss Wang chuckled. "How much is left? Pack me some more—I’ll take it back for my grandson."
Si Nian checked the box. "There’s about five jin of osmanthus cake left, and around ten jin of mung bean cake."
"Perfect. I’ll take all the osmanthus cake and two more jin of mung bean cake."
He pulled out a ten-yuan bill and handed it to her.
"Uncle, there’s no need. Consider this a gift—if you like it, you can always come back for more."
"Nonsense! We’re both in business—I can’t take advantage of you. Please, take it."
Boss Wang quickly handed her the money. The seller had already given him a small bag to sample, and now with so much more, it would be improper not to pay. Besides, he wasn’t the type to take advantage of small favors.
Si Nian had only been polite out of courtesy, so once the gesture was properly acknowledged, she accepted the payment.
After the customer left, she stared at the remaining few pounds of mung bean cakes, lost in thought for a long while.
Her mother hadn’t made much—just thirty pounds in total: fifteen pounds of mung bean cakes and fifteen pounds of osmanthus cakes.
The osmanthus cakes, with their richer fragrance, had sold out faster. Now, only the mung bean cakes were left.
