"Of course." Song Nianchu agreed readily, then pulled a glass jar from her cloth bag.
"Manager Li, this is a new recipe I made yesterday. Would you like to try it?"
"You’ve already developed another dish so quickly?" Manager Li was taken aback.
"It’s hardly a proper development—just something I threw together. Please give it a taste." Song Nianchu said with a cheerful smile.
"It looks promising. Let me try." Manager Li opened the jar and picked out a strip of squid. "Is this squid?"
"Yes." Song Nianchu nodded.
Only after confirming it was squid did Manager Li pop it into his mouth.
One bite led to another, and soon he had devoured several pieces.
"Nianchu, why don’t you just come work at my restaurant?" Manager Li gazed at her excitedly.
How had he never noticed her talent for cooking before?
"You’re too kind, Manager Li. My skills are only good enough for home cooking—I’d never make it as a professional chef." Song Nianchu waved her hands dismissively.
Manager Li considered it. His restaurant had never hired a female chef before, but if Song Nianchu was willing, he’d gladly break tradition for her.
But her reluctance was clear, so he didn’t press further.
"Alright, let me know if you ever change your mind. By the way, could you bring me a few more jars of this squid tomorrow? I’d like to offer samples to customers." Manager Li asked.
"Absolutely!" This was exactly what Song Nianchu had hoped for, so she agreed without hesitation.
"Great. Just come straight in tomorrow—no need for me to fetch you." Manager Li said.
"Got it." Song Nianchu replied.
After leaving Manager Li, Song Nianchu headed straight to the market. She still had some seasonings left from her last trip, so today she only needed to buy ingredients.
She purchased roughly the same amount as yesterday, with two extra squids added to the haul. Once done, she returned home.
Before she even reached her doorstep, she spotted a thin figure waiting by her gate.
It was Wu Zhenggui.
Song Nianchu quickened her pace.
"Uncle Zhenggui, what brings you here? Someone was home—why didn’t you knock?" she asked.
"I did. I was waiting for you." Wu Zhenggui glanced at the basket in her hands, ensuring no one was watching, then said, "Let’s talk inside."
"Of course." Song Nianchu pushed open the gate and invited him in.
Upon entering, Wu Zhenggui saw Mu Shi'an busy in the courtyard, surrounded by wood and sawdust.
"What’s all this? Are you building furniture?" Wu Zhenggui had only knocked earlier, and when Mu Shi'an answered, he’d simply asked if Song Nianchu was home. He hadn’t stepped inside and hadn’t noticed the scene.
"It’s a good thing." Song Nianchu smiled, her eyes bright.
"What good thing?" Wu Zhenggui studied the pile of wood but couldn’t make sense of it.
"I’ll explain later. Did you wait for me to ask about today’s outcome?" Song Nianchu chuckled.
"Yes, how did it go?" Wu Zhenggui’s attention snapped back, his eyes filled with hope.
Song Nianchu lifted the coarse cloth covering her basket, revealing it packed with fresh fish.
"What… does this mean?" Wu Zhenggui was momentarily confused.
"These are ingredients for tomorrow." Song Nianchu replied softly.
It took a moment for Wu Zhenggui to grasp her meaning, but when he did, his eyes widened.
"Manager Li accepted everything you brought today?" His voice trembled with excitement.
"Yes!" Song Nianchu nodded.
"That’s wonderful, truly wonderful." Wu Zhenggui felt his hopes rise even higher.
"Uncle Zhenggui, don’t worry too much. Even if Manager Li only wants these three days’ worth of dishes, I have another plan to ensure no one in the village goes hungry this winter." Song Nianchu softened her voice as she looked at the elderly man, his back bent with worry.
"What other plan could there be? I asked around today—hardly any fishing boats have had a good haul this month. Ours is scheduled last, so it’ll likely be worse." Wu Zhenggui sighed.
"Just trust me." Song Nianchu didn’t mention the net-weaving machine yet, fixing him with a steady gaze.
Wu Zhenggui was momentarily stunned by her confidence, then nodded with a smile.
"Alright, I trust you. I’ll leave you to your work now."
Having confirmed the news, Wu Zhenggui didn’t linger.
"Let me walk you out." Song Nianchu escorted him to the gate.
Once he was out of sight, she closed the gate and turned back.
Mu Shi'an approached and took the basket from her hands.
"Earlier, you mentioned wanting to start a fishing gear workshop in the village. Why didn’t you bring it up with the village chief just now?"
"No rush. I’ll discuss it once things are more stable." Song Nianchu’s eyes gleamed with determination.
Mu Shi'an didn’t fully understand, but he trusted her judgment and didn’t press further.
He carried the basket to the kitchen for her. Not hearing Mu Haoxuan’s voice, Song Nianchu asked,
"Where’s Haoxuan? Did he go out?"
"He left to play after lunch. Have you eaten? I saved some food for you." Mu Shi'an asked.
"I didn’t have time." Song Nianchu rubbed her stomach.
"Then sit and rest for a bit. I’ll warm it up for you." Mu Shi'an turned toward the stove.
"What did you make for lunch?" Song Nianchu trailed after him.
"I’m not much of a cook. Just boiled some potatoes and sweet potatoes." He lifted the lid of the pot.
The light in Song Nianchu’s eyes dimmed slightly.
"What’s wrong? Don’t you like them? I can help you make something else—I’ll tend the fire." Mu Shi'an offered apologetically.
"It’s fine. I’ll manage." She picked up a small potato, peeled it, and popped it into her mouth.
"That’s cold." Mu Shi'an reminded her.
"These are fine cold." She grabbed a sweet potato next.
Seeing she truly didn’t mind, Mu Shi'an relaxed a little.
"Eat first, then. I’ll get back to work outside."
Just as Song Nianchu was about to nod, her gaze fell on Mu Shi'an’s hands—once slender and well-kept, now marred with cuts and scrapes.
"What happened to your hands?" She immediately grabbed one.
Mu Shi'an instinctively pulled away.
"It’s nothing. Woodworking comes with minor injuries. Just small nicks—nothing serious."
