“Alright.” Mu Shi’an nodded.

Song Nianchu then turned and left the kitchen.

Outside, the sky had already begun to darken. The villagers had closed their doors, with only faint glimmers of dim light seeping through the windows.

After walking for a while, Song Nianchu finally arrived at Wu Zhenggui’s house.

“Uncle Zhenggui, are you asleep?” She knocked lightly on the door.

Within moments, footsteps echoed from the courtyard, and the door was pulled open from inside.

It was Wu Zhenggui himself.

“Young lady, are you only coming back now? Even though you’re strong, you’re still a girl—walking alone at night makes you an easy target for troublemakers.” Wu Zhenggui frowned disapprovingly at her.

“I’ve been back for a while. I went home to eat first before coming to see you,” Song Nianchu explained with a smile.

“That’s better. Come on in.” Hearing this, Wu Zhenggui’s displeasure instantly melted away.

“Sure!” Song Nianchu stepped inside.

In the main room, a dim oil lamp flickered.

The Wu family was having dinner, and Song Nianchu glanced at the table—only a large pot of watery sweet potato porridge sat there, so thin it barely counted as food.

The Wu family was large. Wu Zhenggui had five sons and two daughters.

The daughters had already married and moved out, but the five sons still lived together under one roof. While the fourth and fifth sons remained unmarried, the first three had already started families of their own.

Counting grandchildren, there were five or six little ones in total.

With such a big family crammed into such a small space, Song Nianchu could barely find room to stand.

“A-Chu, have you eaten yet? Would you like to join us?” Aunt Wu offered warmly.

“I’ve already eaten. I just came to discuss something with Uncle Zhenggui,” Song Nianchu politely declined.

“A-Chu, come with me to the inner room.” Wu Zhenggui led her to his bedroom.

Only then did the others withdraw their gazes, turning their hopeful eyes back to Aunt Wu.

She picked up a ladle and began distributing the porridge—thinner portions for the adults, slightly thicker for the children, and by the time she served herself, only watery broth remained.

No one complained. They lifted their bowls and gulped down the meager meal.

One bowl of watery porridge barely filled their stomachs before it was gone, and the pot was already empty.

One by one, they reluctantly set down their bowls, licking them clean in quiet resignation.

Inside the room, Wu Zhenggui sat on the bed, looking curiously at Song Nianchu.

“A-Chu, what did you want to talk to me about?”

Earlier that day, before leaving, she had mentioned having good news to share upon her return.

“Uncle Zhenggui, I’ve found a way to save our village,” Song Nianchu said, her eyes shining with determination.

“What?” Wu Zhenggui was stunned.

“Do you remember Manager Li from the county’s state-run restaurant?” she asked.

“Of course! He agreed to buy some of our village’s seafood every month after you saved his uncle,” Wu Zhenggui nodded.

Though the orders weren’t large, it had still provided an extra source of income.

“When I delivered the fishing nets to the factory last time, I thought about how much Manager Li had helped us this past year. Since I’d just gotten married, I brought some homemade dried fish to thank him.”

“And guess what? After tasting it, Manager Li said he wanted to add the dish to the restaurant’s menu—he’s placing an order for 20 servings a day from me!” Song Nianchu lowered her voice.

“Really? That’s wonderful!” Wu Zhenggui beamed, but his joy quickly dimmed. “But 20 servings a day won’t earn much, will it? Divided among so many villagers, each person’s share would be tiny.”

“Manager Li is paying 70 cents per serving. After calculating costs, we can keep expenses at 40 cents per serving, leaving a profit of 30 cents each. Twenty servings a day means 6 yuan—180 yuan a month. Still think that’s too little?” Song Nianchu laid out the numbers.

“What?! A hundred and—180 yuan a month?!” Wu Zhenggui nearly shouted in shock but caught himself, forcing his voice back down.

“That’s just a rough estimate. There might be fluctuations, but I think we can make at least 150 yuan a month,” Song Nianchu clarified.

“If we can really earn that much, our village will be saved!” Wu Zhenggui’s fingers trembled with excitement.

He had assumed each serving would only bring a couple of cents in profit—never imagined it could be 30 cents!

“But this is still in the trial phase. Manager Li wants to test it for three days first. If it goes well, he’ll place long-term orders. For now, don’t tell anyone else. Once everything’s confirmed, we’ll announce it. If neighboring villages catch wind of such a good deal, they might try to sabotage us,” Song Nianchu warned.

“Don’t worry, your Uncle Zhenggui knows how to keep a secret,” he assured her.

People were selfish—when struggling themselves, few wanted to see others prosper.

“Good. I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Over the next three days, I’ll be delivering goods to Manager Li daily. If anyone notices, they might assume I’m engaging in speculation and profiteering,” Song Nianchu chuckled.

“No need to worry. I’ll write you a permit to carry with you—no one will dare question you,” Wu Zhenggui declared firmly.

“My uncle is always so clever,” Song Nianchu smiled.

“No need for flattery, girl. If this succeeds, you’ll be the savior of all Qinghe Fishing Village!” Wu Zhenggui’s voice was thick with emotion.

“Uncle, we’re all one village. No need for such formal talk. When I was bedridden for half a year, wasn’t it all of you who took care of me?” Song Nianchu said gently.

“You’re a good child, just like your father.” Wu Zhenggui’s eyes grew misty.

He stood and wrote out the permit for her.

“Keep this safe—don’t lose it,” he instructed.

“I will, Uncle.” Song Nianchu carefully folded the paper and tucked it into her pocket.

“Go on. For these three days, don’t worry about work—just focus on preparing Manager Li’s orders,” Wu Zhenggui said.

“Alright.” She didn’t refuse.

There was indeed much to do in the coming days.

“Head back now.” Wu Zhenggui waved her off.

“Okay.”

He personally escorted her to the gate, watching until her figure disappeared into the night before slowly turning back to the main room.

Inside, the women had already taken the children to bed, leaving only Aunt Wu and Wu Zhenggui’s five sons.

“Dad, you’re too soft on that Nianchu girl—even walking her out. Feels like you treat her better than your own sons,” Wu Daniu, the eldest, teased lightly.

“What do you know? That girl deserves it!” Wu Zhenggui shot him a sharp look.

“Huh?” Wu Daniu was baffled by his father’s intensity.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep