Chief, don't hit me in the face

Chapter 7: A Little Sweetness for the World!

The moon hung low over the willow branches, and the brewing process continued! Xia Lingyue stuck torches into the workshop walls for light. “Remember, you must keep stirring constantly. This is to ensure all the moisture in the sugarcane juice evaporates completely—don’t stop for a second.” Xia Ye held a two-meter-long wooden spoon and stirred the sugarcane juice in the stone pot nonstop. After three hours, it had become quite thick; if left undisturbed, it would burn to the bottom of the pot. Large plumes of steam billowed from the stone pots and couldn’t dissipate quickly enough, filling the workshop with a misty haze that gave it the feel of a fairyland. “For small-scale, workshop-style production, we’d need all nine pots. Once the fire is lit, we can’t stop. But since we’re short on manpower and don’t need to make that much sugar, we’ll just make do with three!” Xia Ye explained. As the moisture continued to evaporate, the sugar syrup grew increasingly concentrated and darker in color, transforming from its initial milky-white liquid into a deep brown syrup. The aroma in the workshop grew increasingly rich, even lingering on one’s skin. “During the boiling process, you need to pay special attention to the temperature. When the syrup turns into a reddish paste, it’s time to remove it from the heat.” Xia Ye had already prepared a “sugar bed”—a wooden plank with one-finger-high wooden slats around the edges, forming a trough to prevent the syrup from spilling. “One person quickly scoops the syrup into the sugar bed, while another uses a wooden spatula to constantly stir the syrup.” Since the heat is turned off, the syrup cools and solidifies rapidly, but the constant stirring causes it to shatter into pieces, leaving behind granular brown sugar powder. At this point, all the steps are complete, and the traditional brown sugar is ready! Phew! Xia Ye exhaled deeply, wiped the sweat from her forehead—it was finally done. Without Xia Ye needing to remind her, Xia Lingyue couldn’t resist reaching out with her fingertip, pinching off a tiny bit, and popping it into her mouth. As the brown sugar touched her tongue, it had a smooth, grainy texture that felt incredibly pleasant; then, as it slowly melted in her saliva, a sweet aroma filled her mouth. It was a fragrance powerful enough to touch the soul! “Mmm!” Xia Lingyue closed her eyes, her whole body tensing as she savored it—a rich, sweet flavor she had never experienced in her sixteen years of life! “So sweet!” After a long while, Xia Lingyue uttered those two words. Her whole body went limp, and an uncontrollable smile spread across her face—it was as if she had forgotten all her worries. “What do you call this?” Xia Lingyue wanted to eat some more, but the moment her fingers touched the brown sugar, she stopped—after all, this was meant to earn money to buy gear for her younger brother. “Brown sugar!” Xia Ye casually grabbed a handful and smacked it against Xia Lingyue’s mouth: “Eat up. From now on, you’ll have so much brown sugar you’ll eat until you throw up!” “Wah, wah, wah!” Xia Lingyue’s mouth was stuffed full, and brown sugar granules stuck to her face, but she didn’t seem bothered—on the contrary, she looked like she was thoroughly enjoying it. After just a few seconds of bliss, she swatted her younger brother’s hand away: “Ugh, that’s such a waste!” “Now that you’ve tasted it, let’s boil down the rest of the sugarcane juice while the fire’s still burning!” Xia Ye took off his sweat-soaked linen shirt and rolled up his sleeves. “You said it’s called brown sugar?” Xia Lingyue helped out while racking her brain: “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sugar vendor at the market!” “Because I invented it!” Xia Ye smiled and winked. In this era, productivity was low, and people could barely get enough to eat—who would have the time to think about such luxuries? The sweets enjoyed by the nobility were all naturally occurring in the wild, mainly fruit juices and a small amount of honey. Fruit was plentiful and could be picked in the wild, but honey was a different story. In those days, beekeeping was a life-threatening occupation—it required constantly venturing into desolate wilds, ancient forests, and rugged mountain cliffs. If ten beekeepers set out, it was a blessing if even three returned alive. As a result, honey production was scarce, and its price was exorbitant—only the truly wealthy could afford it! “What’s there to be so proud of?” Xia Lingyue ruffled Xia Ye’s hair, her heart brimming with boundless pride—her little brother really was the best! He’d managed to bring a little sweetness to this world! Xia Lingyue could figure it out with her eyes closed: once brown sugar hit the market, it would send shockwaves through this world—those aristocrats would likely go wild with excitement! The sweetness of brown sugar is pure—unlike fruit, where even when perfectly ripe, the extracted juice still contains impurities that affect the taste. Take honey, for example: with the purification methods of this era, it’s impossible to completely remove bee eggs and other contaminants, and during harvesting, it’s often mixed with debris. Of course, back in Xia Ye’s day, these would have been considered “all-natural” and priced so high it would make you want to spit blood—but here, they’d be completely outclassed by brown sugar. “In the final step of making sugar, if you pour the mixture into prepared wooden molds while stirring, then use a stone knife to smooth the surface, the end result is sugar cubes!” Xia Ye explained. “Mm-hmm!” Xia Lingyue tried hard to remember this, along with the fact that when boiling the first batch of sugarcane juice, lime must be added to neutralize the acidity—that was the secret. It took a whole day, and Xia Ye ended up boiling down a total of 160 jin of brown sugar—for someone who had just recovered from a serious illness, this was truly hard physical labor! Collapsed in a bamboo wicker chair, Xia Ye gazed at the vast expanse of brown sugar spread out to dry, glowing with a deep, misty red in the sunlight, and felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction. “It’s still not enough!” Xia Lingyue crouched beside him, shooing away mosquitoes while breaking up the chunks of brown sugar. “That’s plenty!” Although they’d conducted dozens of test runs beforehand to perfect the heat control, this was, after all, their first attempt at small-scale, workshop-style mass production. So Xia Ye was quite satisfied with this yield. Back in his day, this kind of purely handcrafted “traditional brown sugar” sold for a premium—it was typically given as gifts or purchased by pregnant women to replenish their qi and blood. There was a traditional brown sugar workshop in Xia Ye’s village that was famous far and wide; not only had its owners achieved a moderately prosperous life long ago, but they’d also registered a trademark, intending to build a brand on par with Lao Gan Ma. Xia Ye and the owner’s son had been best friends since childhood; he’d even helped out during busy farming seasons when they were short on labor, so he knew the sugar-making process inside and out. “How much are you planning to sell it for?” Xia Lingyue considered the current market prices: “At least two Dao coins, right?” “Two? That’s just the cost!” Xia Ye cleared his throat. “At least ten Dao coins. Don’t complain that it’s too expensive—and no discounts!” “Cost my foot—what’s that junk sugarcane worth anyway?” Xia Lingyue rolled her eyes: “Stop messing around. Seriously, ten Dao coins is a hundred jin of grain—who but the nobility could afford that?” “That’s exactly who we’re selling it to!” Xia Ye had already thought this through: “Our traditional brown sugar is one-of-a-kind in the world. Once this opportunity passes, you won’t find it anywhere else.” “True!” Xia Lingyue tucked her long hair, which had fallen across her forehead, behind her ear. The production of brown sugar was too low to possibly satisfy the entire aristocracy, so whoever could afford it would get to enjoy it. “We can only make this one sale, so we’ve got to make our money back in one go!” If it weren’t for the upcoming Blood Survival Trial, which required a large sum of money to purchase equipment, Xia Ye would never have sold the brown sugar. In this Post-Stone Age, brute strength is the only guarantee of survival. As a lowly nobody at the second level of the Body Tempering Realm, no matter how many great items Xia Ye crafted, he wouldn’t be able to keep them safe. “Let’s not go back—let’s just stay here!” Xia Lingyue had obviously thought of the same problem: why had her younger brother crafted so many items unique in the world, yet dared not even use some of them herself—all out of fear of being robbed? “That’s impossible!” Xia Ye sighed. Setting aside the question of how they’d survive the quadrennial Beast Tide, what if others discovered this hidden paradise? Besides, was he supposed to live as a wild man for the rest of his life? Even if he could endure it, what about his descendants? Not to mention that he still had to exact revenge on the Xia Clan and the Prince of Zhao. “This trial is an opportunity. Once we’ve established a tribe, we’ll develop our economy as quickly as possible, mass troops, and build up our numbers. Once we possess formidable military strength, we’ll be free—whoever comes to plunder us, we’ll wipe them out!” In this world, civilization lay in ruins and the transmission of knowledge had been severed, but Xia Ye was different. Although he was just a college student, he was confident he could easily outclass these natives. “That’s right. Rather than living a life of misery, let’s die fearlessly in battle!” Inside Xia Lingyue’s delicate frame lay a heart of steel—a hallmark of this era, where one had to fight to reclaim one’s own life. “Once we have money, I’ll buy you a top-tier cultivation manual first—your cultivation level is just too low!” Xia Lingyue sighed. If it weren’t for her younger brother’s bloodline being sacrificed to the Prince of Zhao—leaving him plagued by illness year after year—with his natural talent, even an ordinary cultivation technique would have allowed him to develop formidable skills. “Mission accomplished! I’m going to make some snacks to celebrate!” Xia Ye didn’t harbor such lofty hopes; everything available for purchase was junk. If he wanted a top-tier manual, he’d be better off trying his luck scavenging in the Fengjing Ruins. In this era, society was organized around clans and tribes—small clans and large tribes. If all members of a tribe shared the same surname, their leader was called a clan chief; if the community consisted of people with mixed surnames, the leader was called a chieftain. The Blood Survival Trial was Xia Ye’s only legitimate chance to leave the tribe; otherwise, he would become a vagrant. In the Xia Clan, even if he lived in the slums, he was at least a commoner. If the Xia Clan Chief executed him without a valid reason, it would stir up unrest—after all, no one wants to be killed simply because of a noble’s capricious whim. In other tribes, outcasts are treated as slaves; no one cares if an outcast from a different clan dies! Put simply, this is a matter of social status. Though commoners in the Xia Clan live in hardship, they at least have a meager sense of security to take comfort in! “By the way, under the fifth wooden barrel from the right in the storeroom, there’s a little gift I left for you. Go take a look yourself.” Xia Ye teased him a little, then walked into the bamboo grove.