Chapter 97: Chapter 88: Selling Green Vegetables
Xiao Man asked Aunt Jiang, "It’s not a holiday. Why are you making tofu?"
Aunt Jiang untied the apron from her waist. She glanced at the door, and seeing no one was walking in, she leaned conspiratorially toward Xiao Man. "I don’t mind telling you," she said, "but you have to promise not to tell anyone else. I have a cousin who married a man from the mining district. Her husband was just transferred to manage the workers’ canteen. Yesterday, your Uncle Jiang went to the co-op in the mining district to buy shoes and socks for the kids and happened to run into him. He said the canteen is reorganizing things and is short-staffed, so there’s no one to make tofu. He asked if we had any soybeans of our own to make some and send it over. He’s in charge, so he can give us a fair price! We got a lot of soybeans from our private plot this year, and they’re cheap to sell as-is. With an opportunity like this, we might as well make a few slabs of tofu ourselves and earn some extra money!"
Xiao Man nodded. "That’s right! Making tofu isn’t that hard. The main thing is having a buyer. You can make some good money!"
Aunt Jiang sighed. "The canteen also wants some fresh green vegetables. Unfortunately, my autumn greens have just sprouted and aren’t ready to eat yet. Your Uncle Jiang is out walking around the village now to see if anyone has any..."
An idea sparked in Xiao Man’s mind, and she blurted out, "Aunt Jiang, why don’t you ask my Grandma? We have greens! Ours have grown really well and are ready to be picked!"
"Really?" Aunt Jiang’s face lit up. "Oh my, I never would have thought! Seeing as it’s just the old and the young in your house, and with your Grandma’s eyesight... I really underestimated you all. Shame on me! So, Xiao Man, what kinds of vegetables do you have? How many pounds can you spare?"
Xiao Man said, "For the first batch of autumn vegetables, we planted bok choy, baby bok choy, and Shanghai bok choy. We have five or six beds, and they’ve all grown to about the same height. We could probably pick two or three beds to start. I’m not sure how many pounds that would be."
"Good heavens, they’re all ready to be picked? When did you plant them?"
"We sowed the seeds around the same time as Second Granny Qiu’s family."
"The Qiu Family’s vegetables are just like mine; they haven’t grown very tall at all."
"I’m not sure about that. I carry water to the garden every morning and evening, and Grandpa sometimes uses the liquid manure from the septic tank to fertilize the soil."
Aunt Jiang’s mouth formed an ’O’. "Of course!" she said, realization dawning. "I completely forgot you have a septic tank in your backyard!"
She slapped her thigh. "Wait for a sunny day, and I’ll come over to your place to get some of that liquid manure for my own garden!"
Xiao Man froze. ’Oh no. I was just making an excuse! We don’t actually use that stuff on the vegetables. Don’t go trying it and then blame me when your vegetables don’t grow fast enough.’
"Um, Aunt Jiang, it’s so far away. It’d be hard work for you to carry that liquid manure, and besides, you’d spill it all over our yard. The smell would be unbearable!" Xiao Man decided to play the part of a blunt, naive child to show her disapproval.
But Aunt Jiang just laughed. "Don’t you worry, we won’t have to go through your front gate! Haven’t you seen that stone-lined opening in your back wall? The production team used to open that up years ago when they needed the manure. When they were done, they’d seal it back up. One of these days, your Uncle Jiang and I will open it up, spend a day hauling manure for our garden and our other fields, and then we’ll seal the stone gate right back up!"
Xiao Man: ...
’Oh, Grandma, I really should have listened to you and stayed put. What kind of trouble have I stirred up now?’
Aunt Jiang carried a bowl of jellied tofu and followed Xiao Man home. She first handed the bowl to Grandma, then made a beeline for the backyard garden. Sure enough, the sight of several rows of lush, flourishing green vegetables made her sigh with a mixture of laughter and envy.
When Grandma heard they were going to sell the vegetables, she was a little hesitant. "Snowflake’s mother, can we really sell these for money?"
Aunt Jiang leaned closer to Grandma and whispered, "Of course we can! You might not know this, Auntie, but since spring, lots of people from other villages have been taking their produce to the mines to sell, and it sells very well! We don’t even have to sell it piece by piece. We can sell a whole basket directly to the workers’ canteen, collect the money, and be on our way. It’s quick, easy, and a great deal!"
"If that’s the case, then it really is a good thing!" Grandma said.
"Don’t you worry, Auntie. I’ve made a slab of tofu. Your family can pick about thirty or forty pounds of greens, and later I’ll have Father Xuehua take it all over on his bicycle. My brother-in-law is the one managing the canteen at the mine, so he’ll give us a fair price. He won’t let us take a loss!"
"That’s wonderful. We’ll leave it all in your hands, then. We’ll do whatever you arrange." Grandma paused for a moment before adding, "If... if the vegetables sell for five or six yuan, I’d like to ask Father Xuehua to do something for me."
"What is it, Auntie? Just tell me. There’s no need to be so formal with us younger folks. Just tell us what you need!"
Grandma pulled Xiao Man over with a smile. "Look at Xiao Man. It’s getting cold, but she’s still wearing sandals. Her uncle isn’t free today, so I was thinking..."
"Oh, I understand!" Aunt Jiang said. "That’s no trouble at all! Father Xuehua passes right by the co-op on his way to the canteen, so he can pick them up. Come here, Xiao Man, let me measure your foot for the size. What kind do you want? Liberation shoes, slip-on elastic shoes, or the corduroy ones with the strap and buckle?"
Aunt Jiang was very enthusiastic. Grandma quickly asked Xiao Man, "What kind do you want? Hurry and tell your Aunt Jiang."
Xiao Man hadn’t realized Grandma was so worried about her shoes that she would ask someone else to go buy them. A warm feeling spread through her chest. She didn’t act coy and said directly, "I’d like a pair of the slip-on elastic shoes, please!"
’Liberation shoes are a no-go. They’re cheap, but they’re clumsy and plain. The corduroy ones with the strap are dainty and cute, but they’re probably more expensive. The slip-on elastic ones aren’t too plain, are easy to walk in like Liberation shoes, and are reasonably priced. I’ll go with those.’
Aunt Jiang helped Xiao Man pull up two beds of greens. They used rice stalks to tie them into bundles, each weighing a pound or two. In total, they made thirty bundles and piled them into a large bamboo basket for Aunt Jiang to take. She would give it to Uncle Jiang to deliver to the mine’s canteen along with the tofu.
Of the ten-odd pounds that remained, Xiao Man gave a large bunch to Aunt Jiang—enough for two meals. The rest would be for her own family of three and their little piglet to eat over the next two days.
She took a hoe to loosen the soil in the two empty vegetable beds, then scattered the seeds she had already prepared. With some diligent watering using the spiritual spring water, the beds would be covered in a dense layer of green again within a week.
That was the good thing about the weather in the South; green vegetables grew just fine in the autumn and winter. They would have grown even without the spiritual spring water, but it just made them grow much faster.
And it went without saying that the taste of Xiao Man’s family vegetables was exceptional. One bite, and you’d be craving a second.
Xiao Man wasn’t too worried about Aunt Jiang getting suspicious. Anyone who grew up in the countryside knew that different soil and water quality could produce crops with completely different flavors.
It wasn’t as if an entire village produced vegetables and fruits that all tasted the same. There were differences between farming plots, from one end of the village to the other, and even between things grown in the backyards of next-door neighbors. For example, the rice from a low-lying, water-logged plot would cook up soft, sticky, and fragrant, while rice from higher, drier ground would be hard and firm. Two identical fruit trees in adjacent yards might produce fruit that was more sweet than sour for one family, and more sour than sweet for the other. Two pumpkins grown in nearby patches of land could be wildly different—one sweet and starchy, the other bland and watery.
All of these things were known to happen in their own village.
’If Aunt Jiang and Uncle Jiang really pressed her for a reason, she could just lead them down that line of thinking. What else was there to do?’
