Chapter 138: If It Makes Money, Why Not Do It
Lady Li returned quickly, efficiently handling the ducks as she said to Old Madam Luo, “Mother, Tie Niu’s mother said we’ve nearly bought out all her ducks. These are the last two. She can’t sell any more—she still needs some for laying eggs.”
Old Madam Luo glanced at Wen Yao, who was still squatting in front of the roasting oven, and gave a quiet “Mm.”
These were the last two. If they still didn’t work, then they’d just go into town and buy ducks from the market. Judging from the stubborn glint in the girl’s eyes, more ducks were probably destined to die.
Sure enough, after trying the two new ones, Wen Yao still shook her head and sighed.
Old Man Wen stared at the greasy, untouched roasted ducks and, for the first time in his life, felt like he never wanted to eat duck again.
“Yao Yao, these already look pretty good to me,” he said.
His words were echoed by the rest of the Wen family, all nodding in agreement—except for Wen Xiuyi and Wen Yao, who said nothing.
Compared to the roast duck from their past life, it was still lacking by a good margin.
“Grandma…” Wen Yao looked at Old Madam Luo with big, pleading eyes.
Old Madam Luo finally relented, pulling out her coin pouch and handing over one tael of silver to her second son. “Second, take Da Huang and go into town. Pick some good ones.”
Wen Xiuzhu took the silver and looked at the uneaten ducks on the counter with a bitter expression. Still, he accepted his fate and went back to the old house to fetch Da Huang.
When he came back with the ducks, he also brought back a whole cart of people.
Wen Jun carried Wen Nong and Jin Xiuyi off the ox cart one by one, then helped Wen Nong unload buckets and basins. As soon as they stepped into the yard, the familiar smell hit them.
Thinking of the basket full of quacking ducks on the cart, Wen Jun instantly understood.
Beside him, the two little ones’ noses twitched. Wen Nong’s eyes lit up. “Sister’s made something yummy again!” He dropped Wen Jun’s hand and dashed inside, calling for his sister as he ran.
By the time everyone reached the back courtyard, Wen Xiuzhu asked, “Mother, should we slaughter the ducks now?”
“Slaughter,” Wen Yao answered immediately.
Old Madam Luo quickly stopped her. “Don’t kill them yet. Let’s do it tomorrow. We can’t finish them all today.” With a few more ducks, they’d really be overwhelmed. Besides, she’d noticed roast duck wasn’t as good after it cooled—it had to be eaten fresh out of the oven.
Wen Yao had no choice but to drop the idea.
Wen Jun walked over slowly, giving the odd-looking roasting oven a once-over. “It’s done?”
Wen Yao scratched her head. “Still missing the right temperature.” Argh, she really, really wanted to pull out her oven thermometer from her space!
Wen Jun said nothing. To him, it smelled just like the last time he ate it. When it came to taste, he was truly no help.
The two little ones were already circling the ducks left on the counter, practically drooling.
With a wave of her hand, Old Madam Luo announced, “Tonight we’re eating duck!” Then she turned to Wen Yao, coaxing her, “Yao Yao, let’s pick this up again tomorrow, alright?”
Looking at the tortured expressions on everyone’s faces, Wen Yao finally relented.
“Alright, we’ll try again tomorrow. Just a few more rounds.” At most two more. If it still didn’t work, she was pulling out the thermometer no matter what.
That night, the Wen family’s entire dinner table was duck—roast duck, duck soup.
After dinner, everyone sat in the courtyard digesting. Whenever they opened their mouths, all they could taste was roast duck.
“Eldest, what exactly did you plant in that field of yours? The seedlings are sprouting, but I’ve never seen any of them before.” Taking the chance to chat, Old Man Wen pulled his eldest son aside, full of concern. After all, two mu of top-grade farmland wasn’t a small thing.
During spring planting, Wen Xiuyi had asked for two mu of top-grade land, splitting it into plots to plant corn, potatoes, peanuts, and so on.
It had nearly driven Old Man Wen crazy with worry, but he’d ultimately agreed under pressure.
Now that he brought it up again, Wen Xiuyi knew his father was still anxious about wasting that land.
“They’re all good stuff, Dad. You have to keep a close watch on that land—make sure nobody messes with it. Let me put it this way: if what’s planted there really takes off, we’ll never have to worry about having enough food again,” Wen Xiuyi said slowly.
Potatoes and sweet potatoes were high-yield crops, and they didn’t even need premium soil. Even mid- or low-grade land could produce a decent harvest. The reason he’d started with top-grade land was to maximize output and have more seeds for next year.
And corn—he knew exactly how high-yield that was.
Old Man Wen stared at him, full of doubt. “Really?”
He didn’t fully believe him, but he believed 80–90 percent. After all, results didn’t lie. Those few mu of poor land had produced sprouts just as strong as any mid-grade plot, thanks to the compost and techniques Wen Xiuyi had insisted on.
That was why, despite years of experience, Old Man Wen had, against his better judgment, gone along with his son’s suggestion to grow a bunch of unheard-of crops.
Little knobby things that looked like strange beans—his son said they could produce thousands of jin per mu. If that was true, they’d never go hungry again.
Still, for someone who had farmed his whole life and never even heard of these things, it was hard to feel reassured.
Since the crops hadn’t matured yet, Wen Xiuyi didn’t know how to soothe his old man’s nerves. So he changed the subject and asked about the rest of the family’s fields and whether his methods had worked well.
As soon as they got to talking about farming, Old Man Wen had plenty to say—especially since he’d followed his eldest’s advice this year: making compost, thinning seedlings. Although it hurt to pull out so many, Wen Xiuyi had said it was to boost yield, so he’d endured it.
Anyway, whether it worked or not—they’d know in a few months.
Their chat drew in Wen Xiuzhu and Wen Xiuqing, who squatted down to join the discussion. The father and sons went on and on about the land, freely exchanging ideas.
On the women’s side, Old Madam Luo was discussing the duck-raising plan with her two daughters-in-law.
Lady Li had only one concern. “Mother, can raising ducks really make money?”
Old Madam Luo turned to Wen Yao and replied, “Yao Yao said once the roast duck is perfected, we’ll have more demand than supply. So I’m asking—are you in or not?”
Lady Li and Lady Cai exchanged a look. After a brief whisper, they gritted their teeth and said, “We’re in. Mother, we’ll follow Yao Yao’s lead. If she says it’ll make money, then it will.”
It’s just raising ducks. If Tie Niu’s mother can do it, they could too.
To Lady Li, Wen Yao was now the Wen family’s golden treasure. Whatever she said was law.
And besides, they’d seen with their own eyes how well Zui Xian Tower was doing. Even if they didn’t know exactly how Wen Yao was involved, they had no reason to be jealous of her earnings.
On the contrary, if she had a way to make money and was willing to take them along, they’d only feel grateful.
