What was wrong with having the Imperial Workshop make a set?
They couldn't possibly let their master use something as crude as what those rough mountain villagers used, could they?
*
Su Qiao took Xiao Hao and bought three chicken legs, twelve large meat buns, and a packet of maltose.
When they returned to the stall, her second brother, Su Yihe, had just sold the last two pairs of winnowing baskets.
The three of them were all rather happy that they could head back so early.
On the way there, they had carried a shoulder pole and various things. On the way back, all that remained was the basket in Su Qiao's hand, making the journey much easier.
Su Qiao held up a yellow paper packet. "Second Brother, you should eat this chicken leg too!"
"Second Brother really doesn't want one. Eating this meat bun is enough for me."
Su Yihe held a bun in his hand and nibbled at it carefully, shaking his head like a rattle drum.
"You're a grown man. How could one be enough? I bought twelve in total. Xiao Hao and I have already eaten the chicken legs and a bun, and you've taken one. There are still nine left here!"
"No, no, no, one is enough for me. Such good things should be saved for Grandpa and Grandma when we get home! Besides, I still have steamed sweet potatoes here!"
These weren't ordinary buns. They were meat buns.
On ordinary days, they could only eat meat during the New Year and other festivals.
If he hadn't earned some silver today, he wouldn't have dared to eat one.
He already felt as if he had taken advantage by eating one. How could he eat a second?
Su Qiao was helpless and could only give up.