>How would he dare to say more, he nodded again and again: “Master Ji wants to buy it, of course, it is enough, I’ll wrap it up for you right away.” After finished speaking, he drew a rope from under the cabinet, packed all the pen, ink, paper, inkstone, and handed it to Ji Wei.
He was greatly relieved after he sent him out the door.

Next to the stationery shop is a bookstore, where many students were picking books on the shelves.
When they saw Ji Wei walk in, they retreated and avoided him.
Soon, with Ji Wei as the center, a small no man’s land was formed in the narrow bookstore.

Ji Wei pretended that he didn’t see it, because of limited funds, he picked the “Analects of Confucius” and “Book of Poem” and left South Street after paying the bill, humming a little tune along the way home.

In less than half an hour, he spent nearly two hundred pennies.
Ji Wei sat on the stool and sighed while grinding the ink, “It’s really easy to spend money, but it’s hard to make money.”

Liu Yimian couldn’t help comforting: “Brother Ji, you are so capable, you will definitely make a lot of money soon.”

Ji Wei smiled bitterly, “I don’t know if I can do it, you have more confidence than me.”

Of course, for the concept of a lot of money, the two have slightly different perceptions.

After the ink was readied, Ji Wei spread out a piece of paper on the round table, dipped the ink in the sheep’s hair pen, and wrote a few words on the paper.

A sharp sword emerges from sharpening

The font is strong and powerful.

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This is Ji Wei’s motto.

He was born into a Chinese pastry family.
When he was young, his father forced him to practice calligraphy for an hour every morning in order to correct his playful temperament.
At first, it was to satisfy his father.
Later, when he went abroad to study, whenever he encountered difficulties or was irritable, he would write to improve his mood.
After some practice, he was able to write quite well.

Ji Wei looked satisfied with the words he had just written, he then pushed the piece of paper away and spread out a new one.
This time, however, it was not writing, but sketching patterns on the paper.

It started out as a boxy line, but soon, as Ji Wei continued, there was a square base, an arc-shaped dome with an opening on the front, and something peculiar in shape appeared on the paper.

Then Ji Wei wrote cement, bricks, bottles, straw, sand in the blank space next to it, took another piece of paper, wrote down the production process from his memory.
He double-checked it before he finally felt relieved.

Thanks to Ji Wei’s inquisitive nature, he asked a middle-aged white couple about the production principle during his stay at their place.
Or else he would know where to start and he would never be able to make pastry again.

Liu Yimian watched Ji Wei draw and write.
Although he was puzzled, seeing his tired face, he didn’t dare ask any questions.
Instead, he turned around, went to the kitchen to boil a basin of hot water.
Soon, he came out with a hot towel for Ji Wei to wash his face.

Zhao Hu came back from West Street, threw the empty basket onto the floor, drank the herbal tea prepared on the table, and shouted loudly, “Mother, I’m back.”

Not long after, Aunt Zhou came out of the kitchen and said happily, “You sold everything?”

Zhao Hu nodded.

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Every morning, he goes up the mountain to pick fresh mushrooms and sells them on West Street.
Sometimes when the business is good, it will be sold out, but if it is not sold out, it will be brought back to supplement the food at home.
Luckily today, a young lady bought all the remaining wild hawthorn and said she was going home to make hawthorn cake.

Aunt Zhou praised Zhao Hu and suddenly remembered that the kid from the Ji family next door seemed to be selling cakes on the street.
She was a little curious and asked Zhao Hu about it.
When she mentioned this, Zhao Hu couldn’t help but said he was amazed.

“If he hadn’t beaten Baozi Xishi in the street today, I would have thought he had turned over a new leaf.” Zhao Hu’s words aroused Aunt Zhou’s curiosity and hit him several times to make him speak more quickly, “When I reached West Street today, he had already sold out his pancake long ago.
I heard that his business was so good in the morning that people keep coming to check whether there is anymore pancake available.
He was arguing with Baozi Xi Shi, and he said something…”

After all, Zhao Hu was an honest person, he was too embarrassed to gossip about other people, so he scratched the back of his head and smiled at Aunt Zhou.

“You stupid boy, what do you have to be ashamed of with your mother, tell me quickly!” Aunt Zhou smirked and pinched Zhao Hu’s ear.

Zhao Hu rubbed his ears a few times and muttered, “Baozi Xishi is a girl after all.
Ji Wei said that he had an affair with her, and it would not be good for her reputation…”


Aunt Zhou shouted, startling Zhao Hu, “Mother, what’s wrong?”

“Stupid man, I thought he was having an affair with Lin Sanjie from West Second Lane? When did it become Baozi Xishi?” Aunt Zhou had heard about this gossip when she goes to the street When she thought of Liu Yimian again, her distress turned into anger.

That Zhao Hu understood his mother well and when he saw her face change, he couldn’t help but say: “Mother, after all, Ji Wei bought that brother, this is a family business, you are an outsider, why do you care so much?”

Aunt Zhou glanced at him, “I just can’t bear to see Mianmian being mistreated.
If it wasn’t for my family’s lack of wealth, I would have bought him back to be your wife.” The latter half of the sentence was not loud, but Zhao Hu was standing beside her.
, how could he not hear it, he suddenly felt embarrassed.


“Okay, I’m only joking, you took it for real.” Aunt Zhou gave Zhao Hu a blank look and suddenly detected a burning smell.
Then she remembered that she was cooking vegetables on the stove.
She screamed and rushed into the kitchen.

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