As the three worked in the corner, Madam Zhao, Madam Du, and others gathered around, learning they were making insulated buckets.

“The other day, Sister Zhu came to visit and saw this. She wanted one too and asked me how to make it, wanting me to help her make one,” Madam Du spoke up.

“That’s fine, Sister-in-law. Tell her to bring some straw, and I’ll help her make one. Also, tell her we can sell these straw-insulated buckets together – she’ll get twenty percent of the profit after materials,” Zhenniang was applying modern direct sales concepts.

“What do you mean, Zhenniang? Can we make money from these?” Madam Zhao’s eyes widened like brass bells.

“Of course! Where there’s demand, there’s profit. Though it’s simple and easy to copy, we can only make money at the start. But some profit is better than none, and besides straw, there’s hardly any cost,” Zhenniang said with a smile.

Hearing this, Madam Zhao immediately became enthusiastic, waving her hand for everyone to learn. Big Brother chuckled, “I can get the straw. There’s plenty at our oil press. I’ll talk to the owner.”

Even Grandmother Li brought over a small bamboo chair to watch carefully.

“Big Sister, can I get twenty percent too if I sell one?” Xihuo’er’s dark little face looked up, no longer thinking about scallion pancakes.

“Yes, whoever sells gets twenty percent,” Zhenniang said, then grinned at Yuejuan: “Yuejuan, you live near the Li Family Ink Workshop now. People working there are busy – this would be perfect for them. Help sell some, and you’ll get the same twenty percent profit per sale.”

Yuejuan’s mother was a Li clan member, and her father Sun Dahai was a minor manager at the Li Family Ink Workshop. Since moving from the city gate area, they’d settled near the workshop’s marketplace.

“Yes!” Yuejuan nodded firmly. “The workshop just started production and everyone’s incredibly busy. Some families even take tung oil home to collect smoke materials. They don’t have time to cook at noon and eat everything cold. My brother got a stomachache yesterday from eating cold food. With this, they can keep their morning-cooked food warm – at least it won’t be completely cold by noon and upset their stomachs.”

Zhenniang, hearing Yuejuan’s words, couldn’t care less about cold food and stomachaches. Instead, she asked excitedly, “They can take tung oil home to collect smoke materials?”

“Yes, but there are requirements. You must produce one jin of high-grade smoke material from twenty jin of tung oil, or they’ll dock your wages. You’d work for nothing, and if you waste too much, you’ll have to compensate the workshop for the tung oil,” Yuejuan explained.

She continued after a pause: “Of course, if you’re skilled at smoke collection and can produce more high-grade material, the workshop will pay market price for the excess, on top of your wages. It’s quite profitable. My brother is pretty good at it – he just took home a hundred lamps. He says from twenty jin of tung oil, he can get one jin and two liang of high-grade material. Over a month, that adds up considerably.”

Smoke collection in this era was entirely manual, unlike the automated drum collection methods of modern ink factories in her previous life. They would put tung oil in lamps and place porcelain bowls above them to collect the black smoke powder that adhered to the bottom – this was the smoke material, collected periodically.

Zhenniang realized the Li Family Workshop had capable people. This incentive system was like modern performance bonuses. With this measure, everyone would try to extract more high-grade smoke material from the same amount of oil. This way, the workshop could get more quality material from less oil. Though they had to pay for the excess material, it was worth the cost.

After all, high-grade smoke material was hard to produce.

Zhenniang was intrigued. Though factories were mechanized in her previous life, her grandfather had a small private workshop using this manual collection method. Reportedly, before Liberation, all ink factories used this manual method, and a skilled level-seven worker could manage two hundred lamps at once.

That was considerably more impressive than Yuejuan’s brother.

In her previous life, Li Zhen had helped her grandfather with this work and could manage a hundred lamps at once.

Thinking of this, she grew excited and asked Yuejuan, “Yuejuan, could you ask your father if I could take some lamps and tung oil home to collect material?”

As soon as she finished speaking, she felt a smack on the back of her head. “What do you know about collecting materials? You’ll end up owing money for the tung oil,” Madam Zhao glared.

“How could I not know? I helped Uncle Sun collect materials when I visited Yuejuan’s house, and he praised me,” Zhenniang replied.

A few days ago, she’d visited the Sun family and seen them collecting smoke with about a dozen lamps. When Sun Father was busy, she’d noticed the timing was right and took the initiative to help.

Yuejuan quickly nodded in agreement: “Yes, Aunt! My father said Zhenniang truly shows her grandfather’s talent – she got the timing exactly right. Even my brother isn’t always that precise.”

“Your father was just being kind. It’s already good enough she didn’t mess it up,” Madam Zhao knew her daughter well – or thought she did. Zhenniang had always been a glutton who avoided work when possible, which was why she forced her to work in the courtyard daily. The girl needed pushing.

Of course, Madam Zhao had noticed Zhenniang’s recent changes – she’d become more diligent, but smoke collection wasn’t a skill one could master quickly. Naturally, she didn’t know that while Zhenniang’s exterior remained the same, her inner self had been replaced.

“Then tell me, how does one collect more and better high-grade smoke material?”

Old Master Li had come out unnoticed, leaning on his cane and sitting in the sun by the wall. He now questioned Zhenniang.

“Well, timing is most crucial. The smoke can’t be too old – old smoke becomes coarse and dry, making it difficult to mix into ink. As for exactly what counts as too old or just right, that depends on personal judgment. There’s no precise way to explain it,” Zhenniang stood up to answer, knowing her grandfather was testing her.

Li Jinshui nodded slightly, though puzzled. He knew his son’s capabilities – in the workshop, he managed material mixing and knew nothing about smoke collection.

“You said ‘most crucial’ – are there other special considerations?” Li Jinshui coughed and asked again.

“Yes. Beyond timing, the flame itself needs even more attention. The size of the flame, its temperature, and stability are all critical. The flame must be steady, without wavering or sparking. If you can master all these aspects, you can produce not just high-grade smoke material, but superior grade,” Zhenniang continued…

Not bad, this girl understands well.

“Where did you learn all this?” Li Jinshui asked suspiciously.

“Grandfather, don’t you remember? These are from your notes – I’ve been reading them in my spare time,” Zhenniang went inside and returned with several notebooks.

She’d found these notebooks yesterday while cleaning the woodshed. They contained knowledge and insights about ink-making.

This provided the perfect explanation. Otherwise, her knowledge would have been inexplicable.

Destiny, Li Jinshui thought, squinting at the notebooks.

His ink-making skills had been taught by the direct line’s eldest uncle. They were meant to be passed down first to Jingsheng of the direct line. As for Jingfu’s branch, he had written down all his ink-making insights in these notebooks, believing that if Jingfu studied them diligently, his skills wouldn’t be inferior to Jingsheng’s.

But Jingfu had been stubborn, refusing to learn unless taught personally, leaving these notebooks forgotten in the woodshed. Who would have thought they’d ultimately benefit this granddaughter?

“What makes good ink?”

“Light in quality, light in glue content, black in color, clear in sound, hard as jade, fine as silk.”

…

“What is Moon Disc ink?”

“Xu Xian ink, named Moon Disc, worth thirty thousand.”

…

Grandfather Li asked several questions in succession, and Zhenniang answered them all without hesitation.

“Go inside and bring the oil lamp, a porcelain bowl, cooking oil, and three chopsticks,” Old Master Li instructed.

“I’ll go!” Xihuo’er, always eager to participate, bounced off to the kitchen. Zhenniang followed – there were too many items for Xihuo’er to carry alone.

Soon they returned with everything.

Only Madam Zhao and Madam Du stood to the side, their mouths twitching. They usually couldn’t bear to use extra cooking oil, yet here it was being burned.

Then everyone watched as Zhenniang poured the oil and lit the lamp. Old Master Li arranged the three chopsticks to support the porcelain bowl above the lamp, and it stood surprisingly steady.

Zhenniang watched the flame intently and set up a door panel on one side to block the wind, since they were in the courtyard – normally, smoke collection rooms were sealed from drafts.

After a while, Zhenniang lightly touched the smoke residue on the bowl’s rim, estimating it was ready. She removed the bowl to find its bottom completely covered. Just as she was about to fetch a bamboo strip to scrape off the smoke, Old Master Li took a chopstick and, using the end he’d been holding, scraped clockwise along the bowl’s rim, cleanly gathering all the smoke residue into a pile at the bottom.

Zhenniang watched in amazement at this masterful technique. She could never manage it with chopsticks – she’d need a bamboo strip or knife.

“Good, you can do this work,” Old Master Li nodded, pinching the small amount of smoke material. His voice carried the satisfaction of finding a worthy successor.

With the family patriarch’s approval, Madam Zhao had no objections. Her earlier resistance had only been from fear of wasting money, but seeing Old Master Li’s endorsement made her even happier.

“Zhenniang, why don’t you come back with me to ask my father? If he agrees, you can go with him right away to get the materials,” Yuejuan said excitedly.

“Alright,” Zhenniang nodded, and the two headed out toward the city gate.