The Wealthy Eldest Sister Rules Supreme
Chapter 293 - Chapter 293: Chapter 280: Don’t Blame MeChapter 293: Chapter 280: Don’t Blame Me
Translator: 549690339 |
“Sister-in-law, you don’t know, this brine soup can’t be used for too long.” Zhuang Mingliang replied with a smile, “People say that old soup is best for flavor, but that refers to other people’s recipes. Ours is different, our soup can only be used for a month at most, and then it needs to be replaced. Otherwise, the taste will sour and the tofu skin won’t taste good.”
“Technically, we should have replaced it yesterday. I was too busy at the tofu skin workshop yesterday, so I came to change it today. Afterwards, I will prepare a new batch of brine soup in advance, so as not to delay the cooking of tofu skin tomorrow.”
“I see,” Mrs. Zhao suddenly realized, and reached out to take the wooden spoon from Zhuang Mingliang with a smile. “You’re busy managing the tofu skin workshop and here as well, it must be exhausting. Why don’t you take a rest? I cando it.”
“I’ll help with the soup later too, just tell me what to do and I’ll do it accordingly. I can help you with some work.”
“We have been working all night, sister-in-law, you should go back and rest. I can do it,” Zhuang Mingliang declined.
“What’s the fuss? It’s just some extra work. I’ve been working here for so long, it’s not very strenuous, and the wages are generous. Miss Zhuang treats us so well. It’s just changing the soup once a month, it’s not as if it’s a daily thing,” Mrs. Zhao took the wooden spoon from Zhuang Mingliang. “Don’t worry, I can do it.”
“I’ll help too.” Mrs. Qian on the side agreed. She rolled up her sleeves, helped scoop out the brine soup from the pot, and cleaned the big pot with Mrs. Zhao. Following Zhuang Mingliang’s instructions, they added all the necessary ingredients to cook a new batch of brine soup.
The fire was crackling in the stove, and the brine soup in the big pot was bubbling. The fragrance wafted out of the wooden pot lid.
“I must say, this new brine soup smells delicious,” Mrs. Zhao sighed.
“Indeed, it smells much better than the old soup,” Mrs. Qian agreed, stoking the wood in the stove, then looked at the yawning Mrs. Zhao. “Look at you, you must be exhausted. You probably have children at home waiting for you. You should go home, I’ll keep an eye on things here. When the soup is ready, I’ll inform Mingliang.”
“But…” Mrs. Zhao hesitated slightly, “didn’t we say before that there should be at least two people in the tofu shop? We absolutely can’t leave anyone alone here.”
“Rules are made by people; people don’t die for rules. You go home first and cook something for the children. Come back afterwards. If someone asks, I’ll just say you weren’t feeling well.”
“One can’t help but attend to nature’s call. I think Miss Zhuang wouldn’t mind.”
Listening to Mrs. Qian’s words, Mrs. Zhao nodded. “Alright then, keep an eye on things here. I’ll go home, check in, and come back quickly.”
“Off you go,” Mrs. Qian took over Mrs. Zhao’s fire poker and reduced the fire in the stove.
As Mrs. Zhao’s footsteps gradually faded away and the tofu shop next door was busy, Mrs. Qian looked around, took off the lid of the iron pot and pretended to stir the soup in the pot with a large wooden spoon.
Seeing that no one was around, Mrs. Qian quickly reached into her skirt, untied the rope from her thigh, and took out a bamboo pipe as thick as an infant’s arm.
She pulled out the plug on top and poured all the soup from the wooden spoon into the bamboo pipe.
Out of panic, she held the spoon inaccurately and poured too violently; a lot of soup spilled outside, even splashing onto Mrs. Qian’s own hands.
The fresh bubbling soup scalded her hand, turning it red.
Mrs. Qian dared not make a sound or any movement. She just filled the bamboo pipe, put the plug back on, put the pot lid back on, and continued to stoke the fire as if nothing had happened.
The bamboo pipe was filled with hot soup; its shell was still hot. Mrs. Qian didn’t dare to tie it back to her leg. She hid it in the pile of firewood, planning to pour some water on it later to cool it down quickly.
After getting all this done, the pounding in Mrs. Qian’s heart finally calmed down a little. Glancing sideways, she just saw Zhuang Qingning and Zhuang Mingliang at the door.
“Ning, Miss Ning…” Mrs. Qian was startled and jumped up. The fire poker in her hand fell to the ground. “When… when did you arrive?”
“Just now,” Zhuang Qingning replied with a smile. “I came over to see if the brine soup is ready.”
If they just arrived, they probably didn’t see anything.
The fear in Mrs. Qian’s heart subsided a little. She smiled awkwardly, “It should be almost ready. Miss Ning, check to see if the heat is enough. If not, I’ll simmer it a little longer.”
Zhuang Qingning lifted the pot lid, looked at the boiling brine, and then at Mrs. Qian. She smiled, “It probably needs to be cooked a little longer. Aunt Qian, you’ve worked hard, go back early. I can take care of the fire.”
Speaking, Zhuang Qingning reached out for the fire poker that Mrs. Qian had just picked up.
Mrs. Qian dodged as if touched by a hot iron, and she was extremely anxious.
If Zhuang Qingning stoked the fire, she would definitely find the bamboo pipe hidden by her. But if not, what reason could she use to refuse?
Mrs. Qian couldn’t find a reason for a moment, and Zhuang Qingning smiled faintly at her, “Is there something wrong?”
“No… nothing,” Mrs. Qian hastened to wave her hand.
“Really nothing?” Zhuang Qingning asked again, her expression more serious than before.
“Really nothing…” Mrs. Qian didn’t dare to look up at Zhuang Qingning, her head lowered.
Zhuang Qingning sighed faintly.
If she didn’t take this last chance to confess, then she couldn’t blame her for being ruthless.
Zhuang Qingning reached out and grabbed the bamboo pipe Mrs. Qian had hidden in the firewood, “If there’s really nothing wrong, then what is this?”
Zhuang Qingning moved too fast for Mrs. Qian to anticipate. When she realized Zhuang Qingning had already discovered the bamboo pipe, her face turned as pale as a sheet, “This… this…”
“Miss Ning, this…”
Mrs. Qian’s legs went soft and she kneeled on the ground, crying, “Miss Ning, don’t blame me, I had no choice. My child’s father has been addicted to gambling recently, lost all our belongings, and also owes a large sum of money. If we can’t pay back, our fields will be mortgaged to repay the debt.”
“The field is our lifeline. If we lose the field, we will have no means to eat and drink. I was thinking of repaying the money as soon as possible. Just then someone approached me and said as long as I could get Miss Ning’s brine from the tofu shop, he would give me a sum of silver. That’s why, why…”
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