Mrs. Yang laughed. "Huai Zi really has a way with words. If you had been the one to speak up and offered sixty cents a jin, just like we agreed at home, he definitely wouldn't have added another twenty cents."
Juhua couldn't help but praise him. "Brother Huai Zi is right. This pork really is more tender than usual. I hadn't even thought of that."
Qingmu said excitedly, "That's it! Juhua, let's go to the market tomorrow, buy some meat, and make some sausage. Then we can compare it to our own and see if ours tastes better. If it does, we'll have no trouble selling this pork in the future."
Juhua nodded. She tried to smile, but her face felt uncomfortably tight. That's when she remembered she had to wash off her face mask—she'd completely forgotten how much time had passed.
As she got up to get water and wash her face, she said to Qingmu, "Let's give it a try then. The sausage made from that meat definitely won't taste as good as ours. Our Qingshan Sausage is going to be famous."
