Chapter 49

Chapter 49: Side Business

Tang Yi Chen saw the doubt in Qin Hui Yin’s eyes. He thought she would corner him later, alone, and ask the questions she’d swallowed in front of the others.

But she didn’t.

He couldn’t read that little miss at all. She was younger than Tang Lu Wu, yet her horizons were wide, her heart strangely broad, and she knew how to catch people by their minds.

Tang Yi Chen needed a few quiet days to recover. Whether he resumed teaching the others depended on how his chest healed.

Meanwhile, Qin Hui Yin brought him work anyway.

“Elder Brother, we want to paint a signboard for the pushcart,” she said, laying a draft on his desk. “This part is yours.”

Tang Yi Chen picked it up and read aloud. “‘Always Smile’ Eatery.” He glanced at her. “Why this?”

“First, it’s a blessing,” Qin Hui Yin said promptly. “Who doesn’t want to be happy every day? Second, it stands out. It catches the eye.” She leaned forward, excitement brightening her face. “And we shouldn’t write the characters stiffly. We can make ‘Always Smile’ itself into something lively. For example, we can draw the ‘mouth’ like a smiling mouth. We can turn the top of ‘smile’ into a little person…”

Tang Yi Chen stared at her as if she’d pulled these ideas out of thin air. “Where did you get so many strange thoughts?”

“I’ve seen things like this before,” Qin Hui Yin said smoothly. “I thought it was interesting, so I watched.” She tapped the draft. “Right now, our pushcart stall is one of a kind. But once people see it earns money, they’ll copy it. The cart is easy to imitate. But we can build a style no one else has.”

She slid another sheet forward. “We should paint the sign on the cart and hang a menu underneath. And it’d be best to draw a little icon beside each dish name, so even people who can’t read can recognize what they want at a glance.”

Tang Yi Chen looked down. The prices were written clearly, and beside each dish were small, lifelike drawings—skewers, noodles, bowls, all sketched with confident lines.

“You can draw?” he asked.

“A little.” Qin Hui Yin rubbed the back of her neck, a hint of bashfulness that didn’t quite fit her usual boldness. “But it won’t be as good as yours. I didn’t want to show off.” She added, “We don’t have paint at home yet. Once I buy some in town, I’ll draw more. Today the main job is still the sign and the menu.”

Not long after, the Government Office sent men to the village to urge the assigned workers to report for the Dam Worksite. They carried a household register and went door to door, counting heads. For every name they checked off, they took one man.

The village head gathered everyone in the open. The officials called a name; someone stepped forward. There were slackers who tried to slip away, but the Government Office didn’t tolerate it. If a household refused to send a man, they confiscated the land.

For farmers, land was life. No one dared challenge the officials head-on. They could only pack their bundles and follow, faces tight with resentment and fear.

“Officer, that’s not right!” Second Song Auntie shrieked, lunging forward. “The one from our household who’s supposed to work at the Dam Worksite is Song Rui Ze, not my son Song Tie Gen!”

The constable flipped through the register and sneered. “Song Rui Ze is a separate household. What does he have to do with your branch? Trying to shove him out to take the hit?” He spat. “Do you think everyone else is stupid and only you’re clever? If it worked like that, we’d never get anything done with you troublemaking commoners.”

Second Song Auntie’s little scheme failed. She couldn’t protect her own son, and she couldn’t stand seeing others go untouched either. Her eyes went sharp. “Then why isn’t Song Rui Ze’s name on it?”

The villagers’ expressions turned strange.

The Song Family’s second branch really would drag someone down even when they were drowning themselves. No one understood what they gained from it. Did they think if they dragged Song Rui Ze into it, their own son would be spared?

No one liked them enough to speak up for Song Rui Ze, but no one could stop watching either.

“He already reported voluntarily,” the constable said, voice full of disdain that sounded almost like grudging respect. “He’s the only young man in this whole area who went to the Government Office on his own to register. The Director of Waterworks admires him greatly.”

The crowd went still.

While everyone else was panicking and trying to hide, Song Rui Ze had walked straight into it with his eyes open. Was the brat stupid? With that thin frame, could he endure that kind of hardship?

Then again… maybe he was simply too young to understand how cruel the world could be.

Either way, the officials had a quota. Once the list was satisfied, the constable herded the men toward the county seat.

In a village this size, aside from Third Master Tang—the bachelor who paid for an exemption—and the Tang Family, few could afford to buy their way out. When the villagers glanced toward the Tang household, their eyes carried a sour edge.

Back at home, Qin Hui Yin kept everyone moving.

She continued teaching the family to prepare food, assigning each person a section of the pushcart. The cart was large enough that everyone could work without tripping over each other.

Mala tang only needed broth prepared in advance. Ingredients that simmered well could be stocked and left to cook—the longer they stayed, the better they tasted. She assigned that station to Li Tao Hua.

Meat-stuffed flatbread wasn’t complicated either. Qin Hui Yin taught the technique to Tang Lu Wu. If the stall got busy, Tang Lu Wu could handle it alone.

Then there were the grilled skewers. That required skill and timing, so Qin Hui Yin kept it for herself.

Chilled jelly noodles, cold-skin noodles, cold noodles, and braised meat were prepared ahead of time. Tang Yi Xiao only needed to sell that section and manage the money and change.

Qin Hui Yin rode the ox cart to town to buy paint. While she was there, she bought bowls and chopsticks in bulk.

She had Carpenter Zhang and his son make four folding tables and matching chairs so they’d be easy to pack up. And she paid off the silver they’d owed him before.

Tang Yi Chen, seated at his desk with quiet focus, filled in the food illustrations for the menu.

Besides the bowls and chopsticks for the stall, Qin Hui Yin also bought bamboo-bucket bowls from villagers so guests short on time could take their food to go.

After the preparations were complete, a few more days slipped by. They decided to rest one day, then start doing business again.

They’d been spending without earning for too long. Their nine taels had already dropped to seven.

“We’re eating sauce flatbread again tonight.” Qin Hui Yin carried a bowl into Tang Yi Chen’s room and set it down beside his inkstone. He was still bent over his brush. “It’s already dark. Stop drawing—you’ll strain your eyes.”

Tang Yi Chen set the brush down, accepted the bowl, and sighed softly. “Everyone’s busy. I can’t sit idle. These drawings might sell for a few coins.”

Qin Hui Yin studied him. “I saw you drawing so much today and thought you were simply in the mood.” Her voice softened. “I didn’t expect you were thinking about money.”

She sat on the edge of the stool, elbows on her knees. “You don’t need to do this. We already agreed—your job right now is to study and earn your degree. Leave making money to us.” She met his eyes, steady and certain. “Don’t think you’re not contributing. Your time will come.”

Then she added, quieter, “If you like drawing, then draw. But if you’re only doing it to survive, don’t ruin your own spark.”

Tang Yi Chen’s grip tightened slightly around the bowl. “We agreed the debt at Carpenter Zhang’s place would be my responsibility. But you paid it off.” He lowered his gaze. “As the elder brother, I didn’t take care of you all. Instead, you’ve been taking care of me.”

“Then repay me later,” Qin Hui Yin said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “Don’t worry—I won’t fight you for it. We’re family. Internal accounts are easy to settle. Outside debts should be cleared sooner.”

Tang Yi Chen looked at her for a long moment. Then, slowly, the corner of his mouth lifted. “Can I call you Little Sister from now on?”

Qin Hui Yin’s grin bloomed—bright, sweet, almost shameless. “Wasn’t I already your Little Sister?”

A soft chuckle slipped out of him, the sound thin but genuine. “You were.”