Earlier, the Qian Family had parceled out the land at the edge of the Caojia’ao, intentionally encouraging tenants to bring money and claim the land deeds. In the end, only Cao Wen’s family managed to gather enough funds to purchase the land.
It had been said all along that the Qian Family was negotiating land sales with outsiders, and after more than a month of back and forth, today a group from out of town finally arrived to take over.
Cao Wen noticed that the newcomers spoke fluent official dialect, likely from the Fucheng side of the city.
They were polite in their speech and kindly urged the tenants to properly harvest and dry this year’s autumn crops.
Compared to the Qian Family’s usual style of barking orders at the tenants, these people seemed far more approachable.
Business people were always smiling tigers; despite their courteous demeanor, Cao Wen suspected there was more than met the eye.
Still, he was no longer a tenant himself, so he only reminded his eldest uncle to be cautious with this new employer.
Two days later, the Cao family paused their business activities. First, they needed to harvest this year’s ripe rice; second, they wanted to prepare and gather more ingredients.
Cao Wen thought selling small stir-fry dishes at the stall was a good idea.
He planned to visit the market to buy affordable pig offal.
In mid-July, before dawn, the three of them hurried down to their water paddy to harvest rice.
Harvesting a single acre of small paddy was fast; the trouble lay in the entire process of storing it properly.
First, they had to cut the rice stalks from the field, then thresh the grain to separate it from the stalk.
After threshing, the rice needed to be dried in the sun.
Once fully dried, it had to be sifted to remove straw, stones, chaff, and other debris before being stored.
By the time every household finished storing their rice, it would be around August or September.
There were only two sickles at home, so Xu Duoyan and Lu Lingbi took turns cutting rice while Cao Wen did the threshing.
His strength was great enough to keep pace with the two women.
Though it was still early, the field was already bustling.
All the tenants and farmers were harvesting, eager to finish before the sun rose too high.
Otherwise, working under the hot sun doing hard labor risked heatstroke—each summer, some died from it.
“I’ve seen some farmers carrying their cut rice to the stony shore to thresh it using stones rolled over it,” Cao Wen remarked.
“Threshing by hand with stones is tough. Even half a day would leave your shoulders raw. Usually only households with livestock and plenty of grain do that,” Xu Duoyan replied, taking a sip of cooling herbal water.
Cao Wen said, “Indeed, having animals makes things easier. You can use them for fieldwork and transport.”
Xu Duoyan told him, “Do you know how much a cow or a horse costs? Ordinary families can’t afford that.”
“Donkeys and mules, though,” Cao Wen said, “I’ve seen many farms use those.”
“That’s true.”
Xu Duoyan patted Cao Wen’s increasingly muscular arm.
“When we make money, we’ll be able to use them too.”
“As long as the business runs well, there’s hope.”
The sun behind the hills was just beginning to peek out.
They had been working without pause for almost an hour.
Cao Wen worried that Lu Lingbi might not hold up, so he sent her back to prepare some food to ease her hunger.
A bowl of plain porridge with some side dishes and a few steamed buns was the best reward for hardworking farmers during harvest.
Rushing against the clock, the three rose early and worked late, finishing the family’s rice harvest in a single day.
Cao Wen roughly estimated this year’s yield at about one and a half shi.
But that was just the weight of freshly threshed grain, still mixed with stalks, chaff, and stones.
After several days of sun-drying and sifting, the final amount would be just over one shi.
Still, with this year’s drought, a harvest of over one hundred jin of rice was acceptable.
But after paying the Imperial Court’s grain tax, less than a hundred jin would remain.
Cao Wen had no plans to sell the leftover grain at the market.
Now that they had some money, storing their own rice was the best choice.
After harvesting, the rice needed to be dried under the sun for several days.
Luckily, they planned to go to the market in the afternoon, so they could keep an eye on the rice during the day and bring it indoors before leaving.
The biggest worry during summer grain drying was sudden rain.
If the rice got rained on, it would basically be ruined—sprouting within a day or rotting from mildew.
The morning after the harvest, Cao Wen and Xu Duoyan moved the rice into the courtyard.
When the sun was high enough, Lu Lingbi spread the grain out to dry.
The two then headed to the market to buy pig offal.
Early morning markets had everything fresh, and even the strong odor from the meat stalls was faint.
Despite the hour, many people were already bustling about.
“There are definitely more wealthy families in town. That’s why the meat stalls are so crowded,” Xu Duoyan said.
“Where else would the wealthy be? Most gather here, so naturally, the market is busy.”
They walked into the vegetable market, greeted enthusiastically by butchers shouting their wares.
Passersby were familiar faces—friends who might as well have dragged them to their stalls and stuffed two pieces of meat into their hands before letting them go.
Cao Wen enjoyed the lively atmosphere and took advantage of the butchers’ invitations to check out their goods.
There were only a few meat stalls, and they finished inspecting them quickly.
He got a sense of the prices: pig liver, stomach, and heart cost about a dozen wen per whole piece, weighing around four to five jin, and rarely exceeding twenty wen.
Items like pig intestines and kidneys were even cheaper.
With just a little money, the butchers were happy to give them away, or if they were regular customers, even for free.
Cao Wen had expected these to be inexpensive but hadn’t anticipated prices this low.
However, there was a reason for the affordability: pig offal smelled foul and was difficult to prepare.
Take pig intestines, for example: cleaning them was a huge chore.
Even when cleaned thoroughly, without heavy seasoning, they still tasted unpleasantly gamey.
In an age before iron pots were common, pig offal was considered the lowest class of food—nowhere near fresh meat.
“Let’s just buy a set today and see if they sell well. If business is good, we can buy more later,” Cao Wen suggested.
“Good idea. This season, buying too much isn’t wise—offal spoils quickly.”
They picked a stall and bought a pig liver, stomach, heart, intestine, and kidney.
Since they were probably the first customers to buy a full set, the butcher was very friendly to close the deal.
After some bargaining, they paid eighty wen.
“Hey, hey, little brother, I have top-quality pig offal too—why not take some from my stall? I’ll give you a good price.”
As Cao Wen and Xu Duoyan packed their purchase, a neighboring butcher approached, pushing his pig offal.
“We’ll come often from now on.”
The stall owner laughed, “That’s good! Next time, you come here. I’ll give you the best price for regular customers.”
“Get lost, Hu Laosan! Stealing business right off my stall! What kind of business is that?”
The first butcher joked, then turned to Cao Wen with a smile.
“If you come again, you’ll get better deals—we can talk about prices.”
“Thanks, brothers.”
Cao Wen hoisted his basket.
“I’ll come back again. It’s cool in the morning to get here early and head home early.”
“Alright, take care!”
By the time the three returned home, the sun was just rising.
Lu Lingbi was already raking the rice to spread it out for drying.
Cao Wen put down the basket while Xu Duoyan took over the drying work from Lu Lingbi.
The two men prepared the ingredients for their afternoon stall.
The rice had already been steamed early that morning.
Lu Lingbi, skilled at home cooking, had prepared side dishes beforehand.
Now, all that remained was to clean the pig offal.
Pig liver, heart, and kidney were the easiest—just rinsing several times in cold water.
The intestines and stomach were the troublesome parts, needing repeated washing.
Cao Wen had even bought some cheap coarse salt to help clean the stomach and intestines thoroughly.
They worked until noon to finish washing the offal, then cut it up and set it aside for when cooking got busy.
Slices went to liver and heart; kidneys were halved and had the white fat removed, then scored to prevent gaminess when fried.
Intestines were cut diagonally; stomach was sliced into strips.
Cao Wen planned to stir-fry liver and kidney together—a quick-cooking dish—and combine stomach and intestines for another stir-fry.
This way, they wouldn’t have to keep switching back and forth between dishes.
Plus, mixing the two ingredients would add texture and flavor complexity.
The seasoning would be simple, with small celery and green onions.
Having dried the rice early in the afternoon, the three packed their things and hurried to their usual market spot to set up.
But when they arrived, their old spot was already taken.
That was normal.
The market didn’t charge stall fees, so spots were first-come, first-served.
They had switched places many times before.
However, over time, repeat customers had learned to find their iron pot stall precisely.
The three quickly set up, each busy with their tasks, when suddenly a loud shout rang out nearby.
“Fried rice! Delicious fried rice! New rice, just harvested eggs!”
Hearing the call, all three looked toward the voice.
Across the way, a small stall had set up a stove and an iron pot.
A shirtless man was frying rice, imitating Cao Wen’s style—flipping the wok skillfully.
Apparently noticing their arrival, he shouted even louder.
“Fried rice! Eighteen wen a serving!”
“We didn’t come for just one day, and already someone else started selling fried rice,” Lu Lingbi frowned, holding her bowl and stepping forward.
“Our stall was doing well first, so it’s normal for others to get envious. After all this time, they’ve also ordered iron pots.”
Cao Wen had expected this day.
Business was always about following what’s hot, since everyone was chasing profits.
Their family couldn’t monopolize the trade.
If iron pots became widespread quickly, it might even be a good thing.
“That vendor’s trying to undercut us, wanting to steal customers,” Xu Duoyan said coldly, watching customers easily lured across to the rival stall.
“Doesn’t matter. We’ll keep doing business as usual. We’re just not the only ones selling fried rice anymore. Good taste will bring the customers,” Cao Wen reassured Xu Duoyan and Lu Lingbi.
“Besides, we’re not just selling fried rice now.”
Looking at their newly prepared ingredients, the two women felt reassured and more confident.
Cao Wen waved his hand.
“Set up the pot and light the fire!”