Chapter 7 Considering Livelihood

Wen Yao almost blurted out “Dad,” but thankfully managed to change it at the last moment.
“Father, you’re back!” Wen Yao was the first to run up, and Da Tou had already stood up too. But as if remembering something, he simply stood in place, unmoving.
Both Wen Xiuyi and Wen Yao noticed the boy’s reaction. Just as Da Tou stood there, lost and unsure, he was suddenly lifted off the ground.
“Son, did you miss me?” Wen Xiuyi hugged the skinny little boy, grinning from ear to ear.
Da Tou seemed completely thrown off by this unexpected gesture, his whole body stiff with tension, not daring to move at all.
Seeing the fear and confusion in his eyes, Wen Xiuyi’s heart ached. He simply shifted Da Tou into one arm and with the other reached into his clothes, fishing out a small clay figurine.
Da Tou’s eyes lit up at once.
“Do you like it? Father bought this just for you,” Wen Xiuyi said, handing him the figurine.
Da Tou gazed at it shyly, clearly wanting to take it but not daring to reach out, which made Wen Xiuyi chuckle. He simply pressed the figurine into the boy’s hand.
Seeing the joy in Da Tou’s eyes, Wen Xiuyi finally felt a little at ease. Then he turned and mouthed quietly to his two children:
“He’s still young. When Father earns more money, I’ll buy you toys too.”
The siblings exchanged a helpless glance. They weren’t really sixteen and ten years old, after all—how could they be jealous of a little child?
Wen Xiuyi sat down with Da Tou in his arms, pointing to the items Wen Jun had just taken from him.
“I bought a pound of meat and two pounds of flour. Yao Yao, you go ahead and prepare the meal.”
Wen Yao’s eyes shone at the mention of meat.
“Father, did you earn some money today? Did you find work?” she asked.
Wen Xiuyi gave an awkward smile. “Well, my reputation wasn’t great before, so most shops wouldn’t hire me. So I went to the docks and did a day’s labor. Not bad, I earned fifty coins. I spent two on two steamed buns at noon, twelve on a pound of meat, the flour was six coins per pound, and I bought the clay figurine for Da Tou for two coins. That leaves twenty-two coins here, all for you.”
He pulled a handful of copper coins from his bag and handed them to Wen Yao.
Just as he was about to withdraw his hand, a small hand gently held it back.

Da Tou carefully opened Wen Xiuyi’s palm, and when he saw the blisters from hard work, he froze, staring at the callused hand, then at Wen Xiuyi, his eyes quickly turning red.
Wen Yao and Wen Jun noticed as well.
“Father!”
Wen Xiuyi withdrew his hand with a smile, gently stroking his youngest son’s head. “It’s just carrying and lifting things, you get used to it. At least I made some money; the day wasn’t wasted. Yao Yao, hurry and cook, everyone’s starving.”
His seemingly cheerful tone made Wen Yao’s nose tingle. She took the ingredients from Wen Jun and began preparing the meal.
“Brother, help me shave a piece of bamboo. I’ll make you knife-cut noodles,” she said.
Wen Jun agreed and went to do it.
With her back to them, Wen Yao finally dared to wipe away the tears that had gathered in her eyes.
Her father had been a professor all his life. Although he’d worked the land before, it was nothing like this, and he’d just spent a whole day doing hard labor. The thought made Wen Yao’s heart ache.
A pound of meat wasn’t much, with both fat and lean. Wen Yao cut off the fatty parts to render in the iron pot for oil—just a little, but it was something. She sliced the lean meat into strips, fetched a few cabbages from the cellar behind the house, washed and chopped them.
She stir-fried the meat, added water, and, thankfully, had exchanged some achievement points for salt today. When the water boiled, she added the cabbage, and soon a delicious aroma filled the small yard. Even Da Tou took a deep breath, as if trying to hold on to the fragrance.
Once everything was ready, Wen Yao started kneading the dough. Knife-cut noodles were simple enough. By the time the water in the pot was boiling, the dough was ready.
With a lump of dough in one hand and a bamboo blade in the other, Wen Yao began slicing the noodles. Her deft movements left Da Tou wide-eyed with amazement.
First he was puzzled, then curious, and by the end, the look he gave Wen Yao was pure admiration.
Wen Xiuyi watched his youngest son’s reaction but didn’t explain. No matter what, this child would be living with them from now on. Whether he was precocious or not, whether he understood or not, he would have to learn to adapt.
Soon a pot of knife-cut noodles was ready, paired with the meat broth Wen Yao had made earlier—the aroma was irresistible.
If it weren’t for the limited ingredients and seasonings, Wen Yao, who had hundreds of thousands of followers as a food vlogger on a certain app, could have made them a bowl of noodles so good they’d want to swallow their tongues.
“Eat slowly, be careful, it’s hot.” Wen Yao served a bowl to Da Tou, then served the others. The four of them sat by the fire, slurping their noodles together.
It was just salt and the fragrance of meat, simple flavors, but it was the best knife-cut noodles the three of them had ever eaten.

“There’s a river next to Misty Town called River Ping. Lots of merchant boats pass through, and there are quite a few laborers at the docks. Yao Yao, steam some buns with the leftover flour tonight. I’ll take them tomorrow so I don’t have to spend money on food,” Wen Xiuyi advised as he ate.
Wen Yao, however, asked, “Father, is the dock big? Are there lots of people?” An idea seemed to have come to her.
Wen Xiuyi nodded. “It’s quite large, with plenty of merchants and workers coming and going.”
Wen Yao slowed her eating, lost in thought.
After the meal, Wen Jun went to do the dishes on his own, while Da Tou watched him in amazement, his big eyes full of curiosity. For him, everything was new and strange.
Wen Xiuyi also learned about the Tianmendong they’d dug up on the mountain.
“I’ve heard of that before. It’s a good thing. What do you plan to do with it?” He almost slipped and mentioned his past, but caught himself in time.
“Father, we’ll go into town with you tomorrow. First, we’ll see how much the Tianmendong can sell for. Second, I want to check out the dock. I have an idea, but I need to go see for myself,” Wen Yao replied.
Wen Xiuyi raised his brows. “Oh? Tell me more.”
Wen Yao quickly said, “Father, did you notice anyone setting up stalls at the dock today?”
Wen Xiuyi nodded. “Yes, it was lively. There were plenty of vendors selling food and daily goods. What are you thinking?”
Wen Yao snapped her fingers unconsciously. "Exactly! Let’s check it out first and then think of a plan."
She had thought about finding work as a cook, or, like the protagonists in those time-travel novels, selling a recipe for quick money.
But Wen Xiuyi had vetoed that idea. First, there weren’t any ten-year-old girls working as cooks here. Even apprentices followed a master for at least ten years before being allowed to cook alone, unless you were bought as a servant girl into a wealthy household's kitchen.
He would never sell Wen Yao into servitude, so that was out of the question.
As for selling recipes—the idea was nice, but they had neither background nor resources. As the saying goes, a man’s wealth is his own ruin by inviting others’ greed. They needed to take things step by step, solid and stable.
Since Wen Xiuyi said it was possible to set up a stall at the dock, why not do just that? With Wen Yao’s cooking skills, as long as they kept it simple and affordable, business would surely come their way.