After being busy all afternoon, Qiao Xiaomai had stewed all the thousand plus chicken feet. Just as she had predicted, they tasted even better than before.
The soy milk that Qiao Changshun boiled before making tofu skin also tasted better. And she tried making some tofu pudding, which turned out to be smoother than the previous batch.
The following day was the Tomb-Sweeping Festival. The weather was gloomy, so Qiao Dami stayed at home while Qiao Changshun and Qiao Xiaomai went to town to deliver the chicken feet.
Over a thousand chicken feet earned them more than two strings of cash.
As they were leaving Zuixian Building and about to drive the Donkey Cart home, Yuan Ding appeared in front of the cart, his round face beaming with a friendly smile, "Miss Qiao, Uncle Qiao, our Shopkeeper invites you."
"What's the matter?" Qiao Xiaomai asked.
"You'll know when you get there, it's good news."
