’This Zhang Huai really knows how to talk business,’ Manager Mao thought, impressed. He no longer dared to underestimate him and began to lay out the calculation. "I’ll use the lowest estimate: for every pound of meat, you get about six-tenths of a pound of sausage after drying. So two pounds of meat will yield one and two-tenths pounds of sausage, and the cost for that comes out to thirty-five cents. Add in the unique production method, labor, spices... and hmm, this pork is better than average, too... How about this: I’ll offer you eighty cents a pound for your village’s sausage. However, I have one condition. This sausage can only be sold to our Qinghui Tavern, not to anyone else. What do you think?"

Qingmu hadn’t expected Zhang Huai to secure an extra twenty cents with just a few words. He fought to suppress his excitement so as not to give anything away, deciding to let him continue handling the negotiations with Manager Mao without interjecting.

Hearing Manager Mao’s condition, Qingmu and Zhang Huai exchanged a look and shook their heads.

Qingmu said to Manager Mao, "Don’t be hasty, Manager. Please hear me out. For now, we can’t make much sausage anyway—only enough for your establishment. So naturally, we can’t sell it to anyone else. But in the future, as our village raises more and more pigs, you won’t be able to sell it all even if you buy our entire stock. Besides, Li Changyu from our village—the one who was a classmate of your young master—is also doing business in Qinghui County now. He’s starting small, but once he’s established, he’ll definitely want to sell our sausage and cured meat too."

Zhang Huai added, "This condition is very difficult for us to agree to. After all, our entire village is counting on this. However, we can promise to sell the best products to Qinghui Tavern first, giving you the first pick."

Manager Mao was initially disappointed that they wouldn’t agree to an exclusive deal with Qinghui Tavern, but Zhang Huai’s counteroffer was acceptable.

He smiled. "Alright, then. It’s settled. As for the cured meat, how about sixty cents a pound? After all, it just tastes a little better, but there’s nothing particularly special about it. I think you’d be better off making all your pork into sausage, wouldn’t you?"

Qingmu chuckled along with Zhang Huai. "Who wouldn’t want to? The problem is we don’t have enough pig intestines for casings. When we run out of casings, all we can do is make cured meat to sell."

And so, Manager Mao arranged to pick up the goods from the Zheng Family’s home the next day. He also paid for the few pounds of sausage and the slab of cured meat Qingmu had brought with him.

After leaving Qinghui Tavern, the two started their walk home.

Having successfully completed their mission and sold the sausage for twenty cents more per pound than the price Juhua had set, Qingmu was overjoyed. He gave Zhang Huai a hearty punch on the arm and laughed. "How come I never noticed you were such a smooth talker? From now on, you definitely have to be the one to go out and sell things. I can just stay home and handle the work there."

Zhang Huai smiled faintly, also feeling quite pleased.

It was already dusk. The sun was setting in the west, and a brisk autumn wind rustled. The bare-branched trees lining the road and the empty fields in the distance created a somewhat desolate scene. Closer to the mountains, however, were patches of vibrant green wheat fields, a sight that was easier on the eyes.

He smiled at Qingmu. "It was only after I ate the meat Juhua made that I realized how good it truly was. At first, I just thought Juhua was a better cook than my mother, which was why it tasted so delicious to me. But just now, while I was talking with Manager Mao, it suddenly occurred to me—those pigs grew so fast from eating acorns, so it makes sense that the meat would be more tender and flavorful. Haven’t your family’s two pigs been eating that stuff the whole time?"

Qingmu nodded. "You’ve got a point. That’s definitely part of the reason. Why don’t we go to the market tomorrow morning and buy some regular pork to make sausage? We can compare it with the sausage from my family’s pigs. If it really doesn’t taste as good as ours, then our village’s pigs are going to be in high demand!"

Zhang Huai said, "We should definitely compare them. Once we know for sure, we’ll have a clear advantage. Then no one else will be able to replicate our Qingshan sausage."

The two chatted idly as they quickened their pace, heading for home.

Seeing the silhouette of Little Qing Mountain in the distance filled their hearts with hope and warmth. The mountain and the land beneath their feet were the roots of their livelihood. Just getting close to the village brought a sense of peace and tranquility that came with returning home.

Winter was approaching, and the sky grew dark earlier. Zhang Huai said goodbye to Qingmu, turning down his invitation to stay for dinner, and headed to his own home.

Qingmu looked toward the faint lamplight flickering by the mountain, knowing his parents and sister were waiting for him, and broke into a jog.

Before he even reached the courtyard gate, Black Dog shot out from the yard. It let out a single bark, then realized it was Qingmu, and fell silent. Wagging its tail, it trotted over and licked his arm.

Qingmu patted its head away and chuckled. "Still doing that? Be careful or Juhua will scold you."

Just then, the sound of a door opening was heard. Juhua peeked her head out from the kitchen and called out joyfully, "Brother’s back!"

Her voice sounded a little strange, as if her lips were pursed. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

It turned out that Mrs. Yang had just helped her apply a honey and egg-white face mask, and now that it had dried, her mouth couldn’t move properly.

Seeing the broad smile on Qingmu’s face, Juhua knew the business talk had gone smoothly. She brought out the food and told him to eat first.

Qingmu was in a great mood and wolfed down two large bowls of rice before he recounted the details of selling the sausage to his parents and Juhua.

When Zheng Changhe and Mrs. Yang heard that Zhang Huai had managed to sell the sausage for eighty cents a pound, they both sucked in a sharp breath.

Zheng Changhe asked doubtfully, "Who’s going to buy it at such a high price? Instead of eating such expensive sausage, wouldn’t it be better to just have a bowl of braised pork!"

Juhua laughed. "Dad, the people who eat at restaurants are rich. They’re not lacking for braised pork. They eat the sausage to try something new and for its unique flavor."

Qingmu said, "That’s right. Manager Mao didn’t even try to bargain. He was actually afraid we’d sell the sausage to someone else. I told him we don’t have enough to make for now, not even enough to supply his restaurant alone."