Half a month passed in the blink of an eye, and the autumn colors in the Red Flag Production Brigade grew stronger. The old elm leaves in the corner of the courtyard were dyed golden-red, and they rustled down in the wind, spreading like a soft carpet on the blue brick ground. Under the eaves of Lin Wanqiu's house, the several jars of fermented bean curd had long since lost their initial pungent smell, instead emitting a mellow and lingering aroma, which, mixed with the dry autumn air, quietly permeated the entire alley.

That morning, Lin Wanqiu got up especially early. She wore a faded blue cotton shirt, her hair neatly combed, and her fingertips gently brushed the outer wall of the pottery jar—today was the agreed-upon day to deliver samples to the supply and marketing cooperative, and she felt both anticipation and a little apprehensive. Shen Tingzhou had rushed over from the dilapidated temple the night before and was currently helping Shen Nian'an button up her jacket; the figures of the father and son looked particularly warm in the morning light.

"Mom, can I go to town with you today? I want to see what the head of the supply and marketing cooperative looks like." Shen Nian'an looked up, his bright black eyes full of anticipation. For the past two weeks, he had watched his parents busy making fermented bean curd, and he had long regarded these jars and pots as the family's "treasures," always wanting to see with his own eyes what it looked like to be recognized.

Lin Wanqiu squatted down and straightened her son's collar. Her fingertips touched his warm cheeks, and her heart melted. "Of course you can, but you have to be good when you get to town and not run around, okay?" Shen Nian'an nodded vigorously, his little head bobbing like a rattle-drum, which made Shen Tingzhou laugh out loud. He reached out and rubbed his son's head, the calluses on his palm making Shen Nian'an giggle.

Before setting off, Lin Wanqiu carefully opened a jar of fermented bean curd. As soon as a corner of the earthenware jar was lifted, a rich aroma instantly wafted out—a fragrance that combined the mellow richness of fermented soybeans with the spiciness of star anise and cinnamon, and a hint of wine, making one's mouth water. The fermented bean curd inside had long since lost its pure white color, turning a warm, dark reddish-brown, its surface coated with a fine layer of seasonings; a gentle touch would cause glistening oil to seep out.

"This color, this aroma, it's sure to be a success!" Shen Tingzhou leaned over for a look, his eyes full of admiration. He reached out to take a bite, but Lin Wanqiu gently slapped his hand away: "Don't rush, let's send it to the supply and marketing cooperative and let Lao Zhou and the others try it first. We need to pack two small jars of samples first, then seal the rest so the aroma doesn't dissipate."

Lin Wanqiu took out two small celadon jars from her spatial storage—these were specially kept by her. The outer walls of the jars were decorated with lotus scroll patterns. Although not exquisite, they were cleaner and more elegant than coarse pottery jars. Using clean bamboo chopsticks, she carefully placed the fermented bean curd into the celadon jars, arranging each piece neatly. Finally, she scooped two spoonfuls of the brine from the bottom of the jars, sealed the mouths, and stuck a small piece of red paper on it with the four characters "Lin's Fermented Bean Curd" written in calligraphy.

With everything ready, the three of them pushed the wheelbarrow borrowed from the village toward the town. In the early morning fields, dew still clung to the wheat awns, glistening with light. Shen Nian sat on one side of the wheelbarrow, clutching a cloth tiger in her hand, occasionally pointing at the wild rabbits and birds by the roadside, excitedly sharing them with her parents. Shen Tingzhou pushed the wheelbarrow, while Lin Wanqiu supported her from the side. The two occasionally exchanged a glance, understanding the warmth in each other's hearts without needing to say a word.

An hour later, the town's entrance archway gradually came into view. The town was already bustling with activity; vendors carrying loads, villagers with cloth bags, and staff in cadre uniforms came and went, their footsteps, shouts, and bicycle bells mingling together, creating a lively atmosphere. The supply and marketing cooperative was located in the town center, a brick and tile building with a wooden sign that read "Red Flag Commune Supply and Marketing Cooperative" hanging at the entrance, giving it a particularly formal appearance.

Just as they reached the entrance of the supply and marketing cooperative, an elderly man in a gray Zhongshan suit and reading glasses came up to them. It was Old Zhou, whom Shen Tingzhou had mentioned. When Old Zhou saw Shen Tingzhou, his face immediately lit up with a smile: "Tingzhou, you've finally arrived! I've been looking forward to it every day for the past few days, just wanting to try the fermented bean curd you've been talking about."

"Uncle Zhou, this is my wife Lin Wanqiu, and this is my son Shen Nian'an," Shen Tingzhou introduced with a smile, patting Lin Wanqiu's shoulder and giving her an encouraging look.

Lin Wanqiu quickly stepped forward and handed over the celadon jar in her hand, her voice gentle yet firm: "Uncle Zhou, this is our fermented bean curd. Please try it first. If you don't like it, please let me know."

Old Zhou took the celadon jar; it felt heavy in his hand, and a faint fragrance wafted from its mouth. His eyes lit up, and he quickly invited the two men into the inner room of the supply and marketing cooperative. Inside, there was a wooden table where several workers in work clothes were calculating accounts. Seeing the celadon jar in Old Zhou's hand, they all curiously gathered around.

"Old Zhou, is this the fermented bean curd you were talking about? It smells so good!" A young woman with braided pigtails couldn't help but say. She was a saleswoman at the supply and marketing cooperative named Xiao Fang. She was usually responsible for selling grains, oils, rice, and flour, and she knew best what kind of side dishes the villagers liked.

Old Zhou smiled and opened the jar. Instantly, a rich aroma filled the room. Everyone's eyes were drawn to the celadon jar—the dark red fermented bean curd glistened with oil, coated with fine seasonings, and the clear brine looked incredibly appetizing. Old Zhou picked up a pair of clean chopsticks, took a piece of fermented bean curd, and gently bit into it.

The first bite released the spicy aroma of the seasonings, followed by the rich, slightly soft flavor of the fermented bean curd, and finally a subtle hint of wine lingered on the tongue. The saltiness was perfectly balanced, not cloying at all, and a sweet aftertaste remained after swallowing. Old Zhou's eyes lit up instantly, and he couldn't resist taking another bite, nodding repeatedly: "Good! Good! This fermented bean curd is authentic! It's even more fragrant than the canned fermented bean curd I used to eat in the army. It would definitely be delicious with porridge or steamed buns!"

Xiao Fang and the other staff members also tried it and immediately praised it highly. While chewing, Xiao Fang said, "This fermented bean curd tastes really special. It has the aroma of home cooking, but it's even more flavorful than homemade. It's sure to sell well! Last time, an old lady mentioned to me that she wanted to buy some side dishes to go with her rice, but she couldn't find anything suitable."

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