Transmigrated as an Unwanted Ugly Girl-Chapter 55 - 33: Auspicious Opening

The little chicks swarmed around Juhua, cheeping incessantly, refusing to leave. The fragrance was attracting them, and they stared eagerly as Juhua bustled in and out of the house without giving them so much as a glance!

Zheng Changhe waved his hand to shoo the chicks away—but they came right back a moment later. He asked Juhua, "How many scoops do you think we’ll be able to ladle out?"

Hearing her father’s question, Juhua couldn’t help but laugh. "We should be able to sell at least forty or fifty scoops!"

She looked at the large wooden ladle, a pang of regret in her heart. ’In my past life, there’s no way I’d sell it this cheap! Then again,’ she thought, ’if it were really as expensive as it was in my past life, the cost of the pig offal would surely go up as well.’

When their mother returned, ecstatic, she told them all the details: where their uncle’s new shop was in the market, how many people had come to offer congratulations, and how many sundry goods he’d sold on opening day. She made sure to add that the shop was very close to Erli Village, which would make it convenient for them to sell their food in the future.

That night, the entire Zheng Family was too excited to sleep, lying in bed wide awake.

Juhua was especially emotional. ’I don’t have the power or ability to turn stone into gold,’ she thought. ’All I can do is stay grounded, raise pigs and chickens, and run this little one-cent business. I hope this is a good start!’

Qingmu couldn’t sleep either, so he decided to silently recite the lessons he had studied that day.

Moonlight slipped through the crack in the door, casting a streak of white on the floor. With several such streaks lying across the ground, the light looked somewhat scattered. He recited his lessons for a while, then found himself staring blankly at the shadows the moon cast on the floor.

In the other room, the mother and Zheng Changhe were still whispering, estimating how much money the dish could make the next day.

The next day, Juhua was up before dawn to make the spinach salad. Qingmu helped his mother pack the earthenware pots and ladles into two large bamboo baskets, then carried his father to his own bed in the main hall—otherwise, once everyone else had left, Juhua wouldn’t be able to move him on her own.

Once everything was ready, Qingmu shouldered the carrying pole, laden with the food that held the family’s hopes, and walked with his mother into the hazy morning light. He was going to see her part of the way.

As Juhua watched her mother and brother recede into the distance, she suddenly felt a hollow ache in her chest. It was just like the feeling in her past life after finishing an exam and handing it in—all that was left to do was wait for the results.

If the results were good, she would be ecstatic and push herself to keep up the good work. If the results were poor, she likely wouldn’t stay down for long. She’d feel bad for a day or two, then pull herself together, throw herself back into her studies, and wait for the next test.

But while waiting for the results, her heart always felt empty and adrift, and she never knew what to do with herself.

So, that morning, both Juhua and her father were completely distracted, constantly looking past the courtyard toward the small path that led to Qingnan Village.

Since Juhua was home alone, she couldn’t possibly move Zheng Changhe and his bed out into the courtyard. He could only stay in the house, peering outside through the narrow main gate.

Fortunately, it seemed Heaven was moved by Juhua’s earnest efforts. Her humble business was not disdained in the small market town—her mother returned before noon.

The moment she saw her mother’s figure, Juhua had to fight to keep herself from rushing out of the courtyard to meet her.

She smiled, went back into the room, and said to Zheng Changhe, "Dad, Mom’s home!"

Zheng Changhe’s composure was clearly not as strong. He jolted and sat bolt upright, causing the pillow propped behind him to fall to one side. If his legs could move, he probably would have leaped right out of bed.

"She’s home? Where?" he asked, craning his neck to look outside.

Juhua went over and adjusted the pillow behind his back, helping him get comfortable again. Only then did she say, "Dad, what’s the hurry? Mom’s almost at the door. Don’t fidget, or you might hurt your leg."

When her mother came inside carrying the bamboo baskets, her face wreathed in smiles, Juhua finally let out a sigh of relief. She happily handed her mother a cup of steaming chrysanthemum tea and waited for her to report on the day’s sales.

Zheng Changhe, however, cut right to the chase, asking impatiently, "How did it go? Did you sell out?"

His wife took a few sips of water first, then shot him a look. "Of course it all sold. Juhua made it so delicious, how could it not? You should have seen them—they were practically snatching it up! After it was gone, people were asking if we’d have more tomorrow."

Zheng Changhe immediately broke into a hearty chuckle.

The mother turned to Juhua. "We need to make more today. We didn’t have enough!"

Juhua asked, "How many scoops did you sell?"

Their mother pulled a cloth pouch from her pocket, shaking it with a loud JINGLE. "Sixty scoops of the pig offal," she said. "I also gave some to your uncle. And I sold eight scoops of the small dried fish."

Juhua’s eyes widened. "How could there be so many?"

Zheng Changhe also stared at his wife in astonishment.

Their mother explained proudly, "It was your uncle’s idea. He said if there are only a few customers, give them a heaping scoop. If there are a lot of people, just give them a level scoop. That’s still plenty, enough to go with two steamed buns."

She paused for a moment before adding, "The only trouble was, a lot of people didn’t have bowls. I told them to bring their own tomorrow—we certainly don’t have enough for all of them."

Seeing her mother happily hefting the pouch of money, Juhua couldn’t help but smile. ’Incredible,’ she thought. ’It’s only her first day in business, and Mom has already figured out the tricks of the trade. It seems she has a real talent for it.’

She then asked her mother, "Today you only sold in the morning. If you were to sell through the lunch hour too, how much do you think we’d need to make for the whole day?"

Her mother thought about it seriously, calculating in her head for a moment. "I’m afraid we’ll need to prepare at least three whole sets of offal. We’d definitely be able to sell three sets. These people are buying the offal just to eat on its own, so when they see it comes with a side of greens and fragrant sauce, they’re overjoyed. They all said the greens looked and tasted great, and that the sauce was delicious. They said they’d never gotten so much value for a single cent. The ones without bowls were in a panic; they actually waited for others to finish eating just to borrow and wash their bowls so they could buy some too."

Juhua finally let out a giggle. ’The prospects for this business are fantastic!’

She had originally thought of it as a small venture, but she’d forgotten that the spending power of the common people, when pooled together, is immense. As long as the price was affordable, the number of customers would be huge, and the market potential would be limitless. ’I’m afraid that soon our customers won’t just be the laborers from the docks, and three sets of offal definitely won’t be enough.’

But there was nothing to be done about that. Xiatang Market was too small; at most, only three or four pigs were slaughtered there each day.

That afternoon, Juhua cooked all three sets of offal that her mother had brought back.

That evening, the family had a hasty dinner and then bustled about, running in and out of the house. They moved pots, fed the pigs and chickens, changed the water for the acorns, and chopped and washed the yellow-heart cabbage in preparation for the next day. They were busy until it was pitch black outside, only then did they wash up and go to bed.

The offal was left simmering in the pot and wasn’t ladled out.

Juhua had changed her method. Instead of cooking it over a high fire, she used the lingering warmth from the embers to let it simmer slowly in the pot. This way, when they served it the next morning, it would be deeply flavorful and fall-apart tender, and it would save firewood!

This time, the three sets of offal cooked with pickled vegetables made for a heavy load. The next morning, Qingmu had to walk his mother quite a long way before he could turn back.

And yet, their mother returned home early again that day.

Seeing her, Zheng Changhe asked anxiously, "Didn’t you say you were going to sell until noon? Why are you home already? Did sales go poorly?"

His wife’s face bloomed into a smile. She shot him a playfully reproachful glance and said, "Don’t say such things! How could sales be poor? They were fantastic! We sold out the entire lunch portion this morning, so I had no choice but to come home!"

Juhua’s mouth fell open in astonishment. It took her a moment before she could ask, "How did so many people buy it?" It was truly beyond her expectations.

Her mother grinned. "Besides the workers buying it to eat with their steamed buns and cornbread, a lot of people bought some to take home. For two cents, you can get a bowl of meat. If this were back in the day, I would’ve bought it too—raw pork costs a whole twenty cents! Buying two cents’ worth of offal to take home and give the kids a treat, what a great deal."

Juhua’s eyes lit up with understanding.

She asked worriedly, "Then how many sets of offal did you manage to buy today, Mom?"

Her mother sighed. "It’s a good thing you bought extra to pickle a few days ago. I couldn’t buy any today. I asked the butcher, and he said someone else had already bought it!"

Juhua pursed her lips into a smile. "Someone must have liked it and decided they wanted to try cooking it themselves. Let them! Why do you think I sell it so cheap? It’s to make people feel that buying it from me ready-made is a better deal than cooking it on their own! Besides," she added, "it’s not like just anyone can replicate my recipe’s delicious flavor."

Her mother nodded again and again, adding with a hint of schadenfreude, "Let’s see how they cook it when they can’t get rid of that awful smell!"

Juhua thought to herself, ’My target customers are these dock workers; that’s the stable market. So even if someone copies my pig offal recipe, I’m not afraid—nobody will have the patience for such a fiddly, small-scale business. But by next year, I’ll need to add fish and shrimp to the menu. Just selling offal won’t be sustainable.’

She said to her mother, "Mom, go talk to Uncle Zhao San, Li Changxing, and the others. Tell them to net some fish and shrimp to sell to us when they have free time. Small ones are fine; they can keep the big ones for themselves—it’s not cost-effective for us to buy those. We can’t just sell offal; we need to add fish and shrimp to the menu."

Her mother nodded. "I’ll go talk to them after dinner."

Zheng Changhe chimed in, "When my leg’s healed, I’ll go cast nets, too!"

His wife said, "By the time your leg is healed, it’ll be freezing out. You still want to go casting nets then?"

Juhua chuckled softly. ’My father is so eager to get back to work, he truly can’t stand being idle!’

Her mother pulled the money pouch from her waist and said with a wide smile, "We made two hundred and three cents today! Laixi ladled the food while I collected the money, and we were so busy I wished I had a third hand. That boy is sharp as a tack. I don’t know how he does his scooping, but he somehow managed to get more servings out of the pot than I did!"

Zheng Changhe smiled proudly at his wife. "This younger generation is really something else. If our Juhua weren’t so capable, could she have come up with such a delicious dish? You’ve been cooking for decades, and even you can’t compare to her! Good thing she’s our own."

His wife nodded again and again, not arguing with him for once.

Juhua had long heard her mother say that her cousin Laixi was a sharp one. ’With him keeping an eye on things, Mom probably won’t be at a disadvantage,’ she thought. Looking at the two hundred cents, she felt the same joy she had in her past life when she earned her very first "pot of gold."

Under the fond gazes of her husband and daughter, the mother poured the Copper Coins into the family’s designated money jar. She solemnly placed a small sandbag over the mouth of the jar, then carried it into her room and tucked it away under the bed.

Watching her mother put the money away, Juhua thought, ’We’re going to need a bigger jar soon!’