Food bloggers made fortunes in ancient times

After performing for half a day without laughing, Song Yan even wanted to give himself a trophy for Best Actor.

Seeing that the deal had been concluded, Brother Ying happily called out to the two of them: "Come on, come on, have a drink."

Song Yan raised his glass, clinked it with Brother Ying, then lowered his head and took a sip.

He didn't know how much the original owner could drink, but he couldn't drink much and would typically get drunk after three glasses of wine.

Therefore, he always restrained himself when drinking outside, and tried not to drink if possible. Even if he had to drink, he never got drunk.

After they clinked glasses, Song Yan reminded, "Let's sign the contract first."

There is still room for regret in a verbal agreement; only when a contract is signed in black and white is it considered truly settled.

Seeing Song Yan being so cautious, Hall Master Chen could only smile bitterly and got up to go to the next room to get paper and pen.

Brother Ying looked at the paper, ink, brush and inkstone spread out in front of him, crossed his arms and said in a very bachelor way: "I can't read, who will write for you?"

Song Yan subconsciously looked at Master Chen.

Master Chen was slightly embarrassed by being looked at: "My handwriting is not good."

"It doesn't matter." Song Yan said indifferently, "My handwriting is not good either."

Song Yan thought that Master Chen was modest, but when he wrote down a word, Song Yan knew that Master Chen was not modest at all.

His handwriting was crooked and looked like a dog's crawling, so ugly that it was almost unrecognizable.

Looking at the words he had written, Master Chen instantly blushed with shame. He said awkwardly, "I studied with you for a period of time when I was a child, but unfortunately my family changed and I stopped studying."

Song Yan did not show any mockery. The people of that era were almost all illiterate. Being able to read and write was already beyond most people.

"How about I write it?" Song Yan said.

Master Chen heaved a sigh of relief, put down his brush, and stepped aside: "You should do it."

Song Yan held the pen in his hand and pondered for a moment before slowly starting to write.

There is a difference between a sales contract and a cooperation contract. Fortunately, he had studied contracts before, and after some deletions and revisions, he finally wrote two contracts.

After signing and putting their fingerprints on the contract, each party holds a copy of the contract.

Song Yan put away the deed and was finally free again. His mood suddenly became brighter. He picked up a few peanuts and put them in his mouth to chew.

"Should I write down the recipe for the moldy tofu or let me teach you?"

Brother Ying said straightforwardly: "Just teach them directly, Aunt Fatty and Aunt Hua, we are grown men, and we don't know how to make tofu."

Aunt Pang is the mother of Deputy Gang Leader Zhong Hui, and Aunt Hua is the sister-in-law of another hall leader. They are both trustworthy people in the gang.

When Auntie Pang heard that Song Yan wanted to teach them how to make fermented tofu and sell it for money, she immediately patted her chest and promised: "Leave it to us. If you can't learn it, we will kill you."

Song Yan laughed and said, "Aunt, you are too kind. It is not difficult to make fermented tofu."

Aunt Fatty pulled his arm, as enthusiastically as if she was treating the God of Wealth: "Come on, come on, follow us to the kitchen, we'll talk and cook in the kitchen."

As soon as Song Yan left, Brother Ying couldn't help but slam the table: "I said this kid would be able to do it."

Master Chen also agreed: "He really has a talent for being a profiteer. How come I didn't realize it before?"

As he spoke, he still felt regretful: "He can read and write contracts. What a great talent. It's a pity that we missed him because we didn't know how to appreciate his talent."

Brother Ying was quite open-minded. He took another sip of wine and said, "Don't even think about it. The current situation in the gang doesn't allow him to stay."

Even Liu Wenxiu thought the gang’s future was bleak and defected early, not to mention others.

When Liu Wenxiu was mentioned, Brother Ying became furious.

"What a heartless guy! If it weren't for us, he wouldn't be as successful as he is today. He just left without leaving any chance for survival." Brother Ying cursed.

After cursing, he held the wine jar and said drunkenly: "Haha, things change over time, we still have a long way to go."

Master Chen put away the contract and said with a relaxed look: "You are right. If we have a few prescriptions, we can make a comeback in the future."

The sound of children playing and fighting rang out in the yard again. Song Yan glanced at the children playing and asked, "Whose children are these?"

He just asked casually, but Auntie Fatty said, "It's not a child from any family."

She said lightly: "They are all children without parents."

Song Yan showed a surprised look: "What about them?"

Aunt Hua whispered, "The gang leader picked them up from outside. He looks fierce, but he is actually very soft-hearted. He couldn't bear to see these kids starve to death, so he picked up all those he could feed."

After a brief silence, Song Yan said, "Brother Ying is really a good person."

Then he changed the subject.

Walking into the kitchen, Song Yan raised her eyebrows in surprise. She didn't expect there was a tofu shop inside.

He walked forward, touched the millstone, and asked, "Aunt, you are grinding beans."

Auntie Pang said with a little worry, "There's not enough food for today. I plan to make some more tofu."

Aunt Hua also complained: "That's right, there are more than a dozen mouths to feed every day."

Song Yan smiled politely and didn't respond. He looked around the kitchen. There were two stoves and a few jars in the corner with a bamboo pole hanging on them.

He asked curiously, "Are those bamboo poles used to dry yuba?"

Aunt Hua grabbed the wooden ladle and poured some water on the millstone: "That's where we hung the bacon before."

Auntie Pang looked at him with sparkling eyes: "Xiao Song, what are you talking about yuba?"

It turned out that yuba had not yet appeared at that time.

Song Yan explained in easy-to-understand words: "Yuba is dried bean curd skin."

Aunt Hua put down the wooden ladle and asked humbly, "What is this bean curd skin?"

Even tofu skin hasn’t appeared yet?

Song Yan explained to them what bean curd skin was, but the aunts were confused.

Aunt Fat said, "It's hard to understand if you just explain it to us, why don't you just teach us how to do it."

That's fine. What he had agreed with Master Chen was that in addition to the fermented tofu, he would also come up with two food recipes.

One bean curd sheet and one bean curd skin are just enough to make up the number.

Song Yan rolled up her sleeves and taught them step by step how to make bean curd sheets and tofu skin.

Fortunately, he had previously filmed a video on how to make tofu using traditional methods, so he knew the entire process by heart.

Making tofu is not difficult, but it is too tiring. Grinding soybeans can be exhausting.

Song Yan patted the stone mill and said, "Okay, let's start by grinding the beans."

Here, Song Yan was still grinding beans diligently. On a country road twenty miles away from the county town, a donkey cart was swaying slowly.

The young man was lying on the donkey cart, holding a piece of dogtail grass in his mouth, and said incoherently: "Chang Yu, did you say that stupid boy was rescued?"

Shu Changyu leaned against the bamboo basket, closed his eyes and dozed off. Hearing this, he slightly opened his lips and said, "I don't know."

"I don't know if the little beggar followed them, but those two people don't look like good people." Shu Changsheng chattered on.

"That silly boy is so unlucky. First his wallet was lost, and then he was held hostage. Fortunately, he met the two of us. He is lucky."

Originally, Shu Changsheng didn't want to meddle in other people's business, but as luck would have it, they ran into an acquaintance when they were leaving the city gate.

Just told him about this.

That man was Lin Yifeng, the son of the county magistrate.

If you ask them how they knew the county magistrate's son, that's a long story.

Shu Changyu opened his eyes, and the afterglow of the setting sun poured into his pupils, as if there were pieces of gold floating in the air.

"Noisy," he said.

"Okay, I'll shut up. I'll shut up."

His ears finally quieted down. Shu Changyu tilted his head slightly, and suddenly the image of Song Yan peeking outside the inn appeared in his mind.

It's indeed a bit stupid, like a silly goose.

He chuckled barely audibly.