It's hard for my elder sister. I rely on the mountains to farm and pay off my debts.

Song Zhi persuaded Grandma and others to build a brick house, and the next step was to raise money.

In addition to the pastry recipes to be sold to Ivana Wong tomorrow, wool fabrics also need to be put on the agenda.

After a simple lunch and a short rest, Song Zhi went to Song Dahe's house and asked him to help with some wool combing and tools for defense.

Song Dahe had a lot of question marks on his head about what Song Zhi said.

"I understand the bamboo comb, but what is the spinning hammer you are talking about?" Song Dahe asked in confusion.

Seeing this, Song Zhi had an idea and picked up a small branch and started sketching on the ground.

As she drew, she patiently explained: "A spinning bob is actually quite simple. It's just a wooden stick with a groove dug on the top, like this."

She used a small branch to draw a grooved wooden stick shape on the ground. "Then, in this groove, we will put a round wooden block. This wooden block acts like a bearing, allowing the wooden stick to rotate more smoothly."

Song Dahe stared at the picture on the ground, his brows gradually relaxed, and he understood what Song Zhi wanted.

"Okay, it's not a difficult task. I'll help you later!"

Song Zhi was very happy and grinned. "Then I'd like to thank Uncle Dahe first. I want ten of each of these two things. How much do you think it would cost?"

When Song Dahe heard this, he laughed heartily.

"Azhi, you're being too formal with Uncle Dahe. These things are just wood and bamboo, and they don't require much material. They just take some time to polish."

"We're neighbors, so Uncle Dahe will definitely help wherever he can. Don't ask me for money. When it's done, just come and get it."

When Song Zhi heard this, she felt warm in her heart. She knew that Song Dahe was a real man, but she didn't want to take advantage of him for nothing.

"Uncle Dahe, I appreciate your kindness, but these things are made by you with your time and energy, and they are also your livelihood. How can I let you work for nothing? If you don't want to take money, then I don't want you to make these things!"

Seeing her insistence, Song Dahe thought for a moment and said, "In that case, you can give me thirty coins."

When Song Zhi heard this, she knew that this was a bargain given to her by Uncle Dahe.

Although these things are just small gadgets, they still take quite a lot of effort to make. It will take at least two days to make these twenty things.

The wages of craftsmen are naturally much higher than the market wages.

She did not refuse, but took out her purse, paid thirty cents, thanked him and left.

After returning home, Song Zhi started preparing pastries to bring to Wang Wanzhi the next day.

She first asked her grandmother for some millet, flour and eggs, and then went back to her room to get the peanuts and sesame seeds she had bought last time.

After all the ingredients were prepared, Song Zhi started tinkering in the kitchen.

The children in the family knew that their elder sister was going to make delicious snacks, and they excitedly surrounded Song Zhi and kept circling around her.

Song Zhi first put the dough mixed with eggs aside to rise, and then began to make millet crisps.

"Who of you will help me light the fire?" Song Zhi asked with a smile.

The four little kids raised their hands in unison, "Sister, I can."

"I'll come, I'll come!"

Without waiting for Song Zhi's answer, the four little monkeys rushed to the kitchen, picked up firewood and started the fire in one go.

She first poured a proper amount of oil into the heated pot, and after the oil temperature rose, she added maltose. As the temperature rose, the maltose gradually melted and fine bubbles appeared.

When the time was right, Song Zhi quickly poured the sesame seeds and peanuts prepared in advance into the pot. With the sound of "sizzling", the aroma filled the air.

Then she poured in the millet and kept stirring with a spatula until every grain of millet was evenly coated with sugar and became golden and crispy.

Song Zhi carefully placed the fried millet crisps into a wooden frame, flattened and compacted them with a spatula, and waited for them to cool and set.

The millet pastry was just finished, and Song Zhi was busy making another kind of pastry.

She rolled the dough that had already risen into a thin sheet, and then cut it into long thin strips with a knife, in preparation for making shaqima.

Heat oil in a pan over high heat until the oil temperature is moderate.

She first picked up a piece of cut noodles and gently put it into the wok. The noodles expanded rapidly, the color turned from white to golden, and emitted an enticing aroma.

Seeing that the oil temperature was just right, Song Zhi then put the remaining noodles into the pan in batches and fried them.

As the noodles rolled and fried in the wok, Song Zhi would occasionally scoop out a few noodles with chopsticks to check their doneness and color.

When the noodles turned golden and crispy, she quickly fished them out, drained the oil, and set them aside.

The aroma of fried food was so strong that it caused a commotion among the four little ones in the kitchen.

Song Cheng sniffed, stood on tiptoe and stretched his neck to look into the pot.

Song Zhi immediately reminded, "Don't move forward, be careful not to get the oil on your face, just wait a little longer."

The little guy took a few steps back, and soon he moved his feet to the stove.

Song Zhi had no choice but to pick up a freshly fried crispy stick and give it to him, "Go aside quickly."

Song Zhi adhered to the principle of treating everyone equally, and gave one to each of the other three.

The four children got the crispy noodles and returned to the kitchen contentedly.

Now that we have appeased the greedy little cats, the next step is to fry the crispy strips.

Put some water and malt sugar in the pot and stir-fry the malt sugar until it is finely bubbling.

Then, quickly pour the fried crispy noodles into the syrup and stir-fry quickly with a spatula to evenly coat each noodle with syrup.

Finally, Song Zhi poured the crispy strips covered with syrup into the wooden frame, gently pressed them with a spatula, and waited for the syrup to cool and solidify. At this point, the golden, crispy, sweet and delicious shachima was ready.