The System Wanted Me to Be a Landlady (GL) - Chapter 30: Fragrant Pastry

Chapter 30: Fragrant Pastry

“Hey, Tang Zhi!”

Tang Zhi was sweeping the courtyard when she heard that annoying voice. She looked up and saw Song Dalang from the Song family perched on her family’s wall, grinning at her.

Song Dalang plucked a piece of straw from his head and waved it at the wall, trying to provoke Tang Zhi. Seeing him trespass again, she grabbed her broom and ran out angrily, shouting, “Get lost!”

Song Dalang darted back to his own house, his grin growing wider. He shouted, “Come hit me then, if you dare!”

“Song Yuyan!” Tang Zhi was furious but couldn’t actually go beat him up.

“You call me rude, but look at you, showing your true colors!” Song Dalang mocked as usual.

“You!” Tang Zhi charged over with her broom.

At that moment, a group of kids ran through the alley, singing a rhyme: “Song Dalang, broom star, curses parents, curses kin, curses neighbors, curses all. Tang family brother lost his dad, Tang family sister lost her mom, crying and calling for their parents…”

One kid bumped into Tang Zhi and kept grinning at her.

Tang Zhi, holding back her anger, snapped, “Go play somewhere else!”

The kid started crying, and his mother rushed out, glaring at Tang Zhi. “What’s wrong with you, bullying a child? The one who cursed your mother is right there!” She pointed at Song Dalang on the wall.

Tang Zhi felt wronged; her eyes and nose stung uncontrollably.

Song Dalang made a face at the woman and spouted some crude words he’d picked up from ruffians, making her so angry she dragged her child back home.

“Hey, Tang Zhi, don’t cry, it’s ugly!”

Hearing this, Tang Zhi forced back her tears and stomped her foot in frustration. “Who’s crying? You’re the one, called a broom star, probably hiding at home crying!”

Song Dalang asked, “Aren’t you scared?”

Tang Zhi paused, then shot back, “Scared of what?”

“Scared I’ll curse you to death!”

“Scared, sure. So if you loiter around my house again, I’ll beat you every time I see you!”

Song Dalang burst out laughing. “Won’t happen, never again.”

Seeing Song Dalang laugh, Tang Zhi suddenly felt uneasy. She wanted to say she wasn’t afraid because she knew the truth, but she didn’t know why she’d said those hurtful words.

“Actually, I know my mother’s death had nothing to do with you. You’re called a broom star because—” Tang Zhi’s explanation was cut off as Song Dalang’s laughter stopped abruptly. She looked up, but Song Dalang was gone.

Tang Zhi panicked. “Song Dalang, Song Yuyan!”

Her body was suddenly shaken, and Tang Zhi woke with a start, sitting up and looking around. She was in her own room.

Some light filtered through the window. In the dimness, she saw her little sister’s hand still gripping her arm, clearly the one who shook her awake.

“Sister, you kept calling Song Dalang. Did you dream of him?” Tang Ye asked.

Tang Zhi froze, taking a while to shake off the dream. The emotions still lingered, leaving her feeling lost.

“No, just some old memories.”

Tang Zhi remembered most of those scenes had really happened, even the hurtful words she’d blurted out. After learning the truth and how to judge things for herself, she never used that to hurt Song Yuyan again.

“Sister…”

Tang Zhi reflected for a moment, then smiled. “It’s really fine. Let the past stay in the past!”

As the sky brightened, Tang Zhi lost the urge to sleep. She got up and started working. Seeing the water jar nearly empty, she grabbed a bucket to fetch water. At the well, she noticed a familiar figure ahead. It was Song Yuyan.

Song Yuyan spotted Tang Zhi too and flashed her usual smile. “Morning, Miss Tang!”

Tang Zhi smiled back. “Hmm, you’re up early too.”

Song Yuyan was briefly stunned by her smile. After yesterday’s teamwork, was this girl finally warming up to her?

After fetching water that morning, Song Yuyan noticed a change in the neighbors’ attitudes. They weren’t overly friendly, but some called out “Song Dalang” to her.

She credited Tang Zhi for this. If Tang Zhi hadn’t played along and spoken up for her, the change wouldn’t have been so noticeable.

In doing so, hadn’t Tang Zhi also let go of her own bias against Song Yuyan? Yesterday, they’d successfully caught Chen Erming, settling Song Yuyan’s past in Tang Zhi’s heart.

“Did the Chen family cause trouble at your place again?” Song Yuyan asked.

“No, with Chen Erming locked up awaiting trial, the Chen family doesn’t dare make a fuss.”

Tang Zhi knew Chen Erming was a first-time offender, so the punishment wouldn’t be harsh, likely just a fine for the Chen family. But they’d struggle to hold their heads up here. If they were shameless, they might act like nothing happened, but Chen’s elder brother would worry about his job, so the Chen family might not stay.

Sure enough, soon after Chen Erming’s trial, the Chen family left Xingxian Ward. Some said they went to the state capital, others to another county, but no one knew for sure.

No one really cared where they went; it was just gossip. Over time, people forgot about them. The only thing they remembered was: steal anyone’s vegetables, but never Tang’s.

Some bad rumors spread about Tang’s fields using quicklime, claiming their vegetables could kill. But Tang Zhi proved the benefits of quicklime with her lush greens, and Song Yuyan faithfully bought her vegetables daily. Within half a month, the rumors fell apart.

People could go without meat for weeks, but vegetables were essential. Even if some tried to pressure Tang Zhi to lower prices with rumors, she didn’t budge. Cixi County wasn’t just Xingxian Ward.

After half a month of buying elsewhere, people realized Tang’s vegetables were fresher. Other farmers’ crops were bug-eaten, like leftovers from insects, ruining appetites.

Soon, they quietly returned to buy from Tang’s garden.

Tang Zhi said nothing, selling her vegetables as always, living frugally with her brother and sister.

Song Yuyan’s straw and bamboo weaving got on track. With daily practice, her skills improved, and her efficiency soared. She finished the required weaving for Lin Yongming on time.

The Lou family workshop’s mats and bamboo products were high quality, so despite trusting Song Yuyan’s skills, Lin Yongming was nervous during delivery.

The workshop manager picked through the goods, accepting 80%, and was shocked to find all of Song Yuyan’s work included.

“Broker Lin, did you get these from another workshop? Most skilled craftsmen in Mingzhou are with us. These don’t look like ordinary work,” the manager teased.

Lin Yongming laughed. “You’re joking, Manager. I need to eat. If I bought from another workshop to sell to you, what profit would I make?”

The manager nodded, seeing the logic.

Other workshops had orders too, so even if Lin Yongming paid high prices, they might not sell. Though he charged a bit more to Korean merchants due to the Lou workshop’s tight schedule, he’d lose money buying elsewhere to resell.

The manager said, “These book baskets are sturdy, specially treated. Such a skilled craftsman should join our workshop. The pay wouldn’t be low.”

Ordinary bamboo strips, not carbonized, were soft. For sieves, soft but tough strips were fine. But book baskets, holding heavy books and ink, needed hard, tough strips.

Carbonized bamboo was smooth, less prone to splinters, resistant to bacteria, and bug-proof—perfect for scholars’ storage. Though Mingzhou’s reading culture was weak, these could sell well elsewhere for a big profit.

Lin Yongming’s alarm bells rang at the thought of losing Song Yuyan. He smiled, “I’ll have to ask him.”

He didn’t want Song Yuyan joining a workshop, as it would cut his profits. As a broker for years, he’d handled many mats and baskets, but quality ones were rare, usually sold to locals.

Song Yuyan wasn’t the best artisan he’d met, but her work fetched good prices, making her a valuable long-term partner.

If she joined a workshop, he’d lose his cut.

Still, he wouldn’t hide it from her. Next time he saw Song Yuyan, he told her about the offer.

“The Lou workshop offers 1,200 wen a month. But with your skills, you could earn that or more selling on your own.”

Song Yuyan thought it over. The workshop’s pay would support her and her siblings well, but it was like a steady government job—fixed wages, semi-secure. Working alone meant earning by effort.

Her efficiency had improved: six or seven baskets a day, three crates, or one or two steaming baskets or book baskets. That brought 40 to 80 wen daily.

No worry about demand—Mingzhou’s mats and bamboo goods sold overseas.

But working alone had risks. If Lin Yongming stopped cooperating, she’d need new sales channels, as he was her only stable one.

She quickly replied, “The workshop’s pay is good, but I have my own plans. Please tell the Lou family no, Uncle Lin.”

Lin Yongming sighed in relief. “Don’t worry, I’ll turn them down!”

Song Yuyan decided quickly because she trusted Lin Yongming for now and needed free time for her own work. Plus, leaving her two little siblings alone at home worried her.

—

Song Yuyan earned 1,800 wen from this order. After deducting costs for straw and bamboo, she netted about 1,600 wen. It seemed easy, but it was the fruit of her tireless labor. Her fingers suffered for that money this month.

As usual, she set aside part for materials and emergencies, allocated some for Song Yuban’s tuition, and used a third for living expenses. Though only a third, the Song family wasn’t too strained. They could afford oil, salt, and occasional meat.

With better food, the three Song siblings visibly looked healthier within a month. Song Yuyan’s growing hygiene standards made Tang Zhi want to pinch Song Yuzuan’s clean, fair cheeks whenever she saw her playing at the door.

One day, Tang Zhi saw the sneaky little Song Yuzuan at her door and couldn’t resist pinching her cheek, laughing, “Bing’er, are you here for your Sister Ye?”

Song Yuzuan, cheeks puffed in mock grievance, handed her a small basket.

The basket, half the size of a clay jar, used a twill weave with light and dark bamboo strips, creating a pretty zigzag pattern.

What amused Tang Zhi most was the woven bamboo lid, like a teapot’s—cute and novel.

Opening it, she saw a basket of bayberries, a surprise. “This is…”

Song Yuzuan secretly swallowed a bayberry she’d been chewing and said, “Uncle Lin gave them. Big Brother said we can’t eat alone and to give some to Sister Tang.”

Though half the bayberries remained at home, Song Yuzuan was reluctant to share. On the short walk, she’d eaten several, feeling guilty and hesitant to enter Tang’s house.

Tang Zhi chuckled. “Did she say why she’s giving them to me?”

Song Yuzuan tilted her head, thinking. “Big Brother said Sister Tang did a favor and we must repay it.”

“A favor to her, you mean?” Tang Zhi didn’t press the tongue-tied girl further. “Why didn’t she come herself and sent you instead?”

“Big Brother’s carving bamboo,” Song Yuzuan said, mimicking, “A tiny knife going back and forth on the bamboo.”

Tang Zhi muttered, “What new thing is she coming up with now?”

She sent Song Yuzuan with the bayberries to play with Tang Ye and went to the Song house to investigate.