The new book of the burning prairie star

"Mom, do you think this cold noodles can be sold?" Yang Biao asked.

"It tastes good to me." Xiao Zhang had never sold anything. When Yang Taishi was still alive, the family had some eggs, vegetables and other agricultural and sideline products, which he sold in the town.

"Then I'll get up early tomorrow to make cold noodles and sell them in town. The sauce and garlic water will be made tonight. You guys should pound the garlic first." Yang Biao instructed the two kids. "You also need to make ice cubes. The weather is hot, and cold cold noodles will definitely be more popular. I'll go get some water first."

"Okay." The two kids agreed readily and started to peel and pound garlic.

"Mom, we need to make fertilizer on the wasteland around our homestead and grow something there. Don't just leave it there idle." Yang Biao said to little Zhang while peeling garlic.

“But it’s all wasteland there. No matter how much fertilizer you make, it will take at least three to five years to grow it into normal land. Now if the fertilizer is insufficient, the yield will be very little if you grow vegetables or rice.” Xiao Zhang felt that her eldest son had been studying since he was five years old and did not know how to farm, so it was necessary to tell him that farming was not that simple.

"Have we not thrown away the manure from our chickens?" Yang Biao asked Xiao Zhang. When they rented the yard, because Xiao Zhang was reluctant to go out, they bought some chicks, ducklings, and two piglets and kept them in the yard. It was to give Xiao Zhang and the two children something to do.

"I'm listening to you. I'm saving them all. The ones from the past few days have all been dried." Although little Zhang didn't quite understand why the poultry and livestock manure had to be dried, when she was at her parents' home or the Yang family's old house, they were all cleaned out and dumped directly in her own vegetable garden or field, but she still did what her eldest son said.

"How many are there? Let me go and take a look." Yang Biao put down the garlic and prepared to go out.

"Hey, it's dark now. It's pitch black. What can we see? Let's go and see tomorrow." Xiao Zhang hurriedly pulled her eldest son. After hearing what she said, Yang Biao nodded and sat back to continue peeling garlic.

next day

When little Zhang opened her eyes, she smelled the unique aroma of steamed cold noodles. She immediately rushed to the kitchen and saw her eldest son’s upper body surrounded by white mist from the steamer.

"How long has Brother Biao been doing this?"

"I just got up a while ago." Yang Biao smiled at Xiao Zhang.

"Well, go back to sleep for a while. Mom will call you when she's done." Xiao Zhang felt sorry for her son getting up so early to do things.

"It's okay. The cold noodles will be sold at noon. There's no rush to make them."

"Oh, then where should we sell it?" Xiao Zhang seldom goes out and is not familiar with the town.

"Well, let's go to the town and walk around." Yang Biao was unsure. While scooping the noodle soup, he was thinking, and suddenly his eyes lit up: With the 5,000-year-old civilization of China and the condensed experience of our predecessors, how can we be stumped? It is said that Malatang and hot pot were originally developed by boatmen and trackers at the dock. Xiangjia Town does not have a dock, but the county town does. So, take Xiaohua to the county town to sell cold noodles. With ice cubes and the weather being so hot, it will definitely sell well.

After everything was packed up, we harnessed the mule cart and headed for the county dock.

When they arrived at the county dock and set up tables and chairs, Yang Biao said to Yang Xiaohua, "Xiaohua, you will be responsible for washing the dishes and collecting money." Yang Xiaohua nodded, so Yang Biao was about to shout, "What are you selling here, kid?" asked a particularly rough voice.

"Liangpi, big brother, do you want to try it first?" Yang Biao looked up and saw a man so tall and strong. He was truly invincible carrying a bag at the dock.

"Liangpi?..."

"What is cold noodles?"

"I do not know."

"Have you eaten?"

"No, have you eaten it?"

"Neither have I. What about you?"

"I haven't even heard of it, how could I have eaten it?" So a group of people quickly gathered around Yang Biao.

"How much is this per bowl?" asked the big man who came to inquire first after seeing Yang Biao cut the cold noodles on the chopping board, put them into a bowl, and put some vegetables into the bowl, preparing to mix the sauce.

"Eight cents a bowl!"

"Eight cents a bowl? Brown rice is only five cents a pound. That's too expensive."

"A meat bun costs three cents. That's almost the same price as three meat buns. It's not worth it." As soon as the price was announced, two-thirds of the people who had gathered around left.

"Give me a bowl, I want to try it first." The big man took out eight cents and took the bowl of cold noodles that Yang Biao was going to let people try.

"Is it delicious?" The others who had not left asked the big guy.

"I haven't eaten yet," the big guy was a little embarrassed. Why are everyone watching him eat? He picked up the bowl, mixed it with chopsticks, picked up some, put it under his nose to smell it, and then opened his mouth to eat, "Hmm, it's cold and delicious."

"Give me a bowl." Seeing that he was enjoying the food so much, the people started to pay.

Yeah, when doing business, don't you have to start shouting? How come the business is already open without me shouting? Yang Biao was a little confused, cutting and mixing the cold noodles mechanically.

I felt like my hands were not my own and were sore and swollen. When I reached into the basin again, I found that all the cold noodles made from ten kilograms of white flour had been sold out.

At that time, when Xiao Zhang saw that Yang Biao used up all ten kilograms of flour at once, she was thankful that there was no more white flour at home, only ten kilograms. Fortunately, there were only ten kilograms.

"Everyone, we have run out of cold noodles. I will come back tomorrow." Yang Biao bowed to the people who were still waiting in line and apologized. Many people who had eaten it earlier wanted to let their families have a taste of it, so they went to nearby restaurants to borrow bowls and take away the cold noodles.

"You have to do more tomorrow." The people in the queue were a little dissatisfied.

"Okay." Yang Biao agreed with a smile on his face. Sitting on the mule cart, he thought that he and Xiao Zhang had used two pots to steam the cold noodles this morning, so there was still plenty of time. He still needed to buy another iron pot, so that the time spent on steaming the cold noodles could be greatly shortened.

I went to the blacksmith shop first, picked out a larger pot, and then asked, "Boss, can you make a custom one?"

"What do you want to order?" The shirtless blacksmith wiped the sweat from his chest and looked at the old customer.

Yang Biao took out the blueprint he had drawn last night, which was a tool for pressing vermicelli. "Can this be made?" To be honest, Yang Biao did not hold out much hope. The ancient iron smelting technology was advanced, but it was in the hands of very few people. Gou Jian's sword had been around for two thousand years. In modern times, if you stack more than twenty layers of newspapers and then slash them with Gou Jian's sword, the layers of newspapers will shatter instantly. It is so sharp that it is terrifying.

"That's it? I can do it then." The blacksmith looked at Yang Biao's expression and thought it would be very difficult, but in the end it was just this...

"How much does it cost to make this?" Yang Biao was quite happy. The blacksmith had good skills. Although the bow and arrow had not been used yet, it did not stop Yang Biao from thinking that he was a good person. He did not even ask what he wanted the tool for.

"Take three taels."

"Okay, then when can I get the goods?" Yang Biao was a little anxious. Getting the goods sooner meant getting the money sooner.

"Come back and get it in seven days." The blacksmith thought for a moment and said, touching his chest.

"I also want to buy a kitchen knife. How much is it?"

"The iron pot is one and a half taels, the kitchen knife is eight hundred wen, and the three taels you want to order is three taels, a total of five taels and three hundred wen." The blacksmith calculated as he wrote the receipt.