At first, some customers hesitated, unsure if the novel candied fruit would taste good. A woman named Zhang, wearing a blue cotton jacket, picked up a piece of hawthorn preserve and asked softly, "Is this sour? My child doesn't like sour things." Lin Wanqiu smiled and said, "Sister, try it. This hawthorn preserve is cooked with sugar; it's sweet and sour, your child will definitely like it." Zhang took a bite and indeed found it delicious, immediately buying two ounces: "It's a healthier snack for my child than candy."
The news spread quickly, and customers at the supply and marketing cooperative flocked to buy dried fruit. Mr. Li, who worked in a factory, bought half a jin (250 grams) of dried apples at once: "My coworkers in the workshop love snacks. This dried fruit keeps well, so I'll take it over and share it with everyone." In less than a morning, the entire load of dried fruit was sold out, and many customers who hadn't bought any surrounded Director Wang, asking when he would restock. Director Wang smiled and said to Lin Wanqiu, "Comrade Wanqiu, you should go back and make more dried fruit. I'll order two hundred jin (100 kilograms) from you right now, and it must be delivered next week!"
Lin Wanqiu and Shen Tingzhou pushed their empty carrying poles back to the workshop, both with smiles on their faces. Shen Tingzhou held her hand, his voice full of pride: "I knew your candied fruit would be popular, but I didn't expect it to be this popular." Lin Wanqiu was also very excited: "This is just the beginning. In the future, we can make more flavors of candied fruit, such as candied dates and dried plums, so that everyone has more choices."
Back at the workshop, Lin Wanqiu immediately organized the villagers to expand production. She took out more white sugar and airtight jars from her spatial storage, teaching everyone how to use them to preserve the dried fruit and extend its shelf life. The villagers were even more motivated, coming to the workshop before dawn every day and not returning home until dark. When Nian'an came home from school, she would help pack the dried fruit into the airtight jars, her little face full of seriousness: "Mom, our dried fruit is selling so well, will we be able to make a lot of money in the future?" Lin Wanqiu smiled and nodded: "Yes, with the money we make, we'll buy you a new schoolbag and give bonuses to the villagers."
A week later, the 200 jin (100 kg) of dried fruit arrived at the supply and marketing cooperative on time and sold out in less than two days. Director Wang called Lin Wanqiu again, increasing the order to 500 jin (250 kg) and saying he would send the dried fruit to the regional supply and marketing cooperative to sell. Lin Wanqiu did the math: the cost of each jin of dried fruit was less than 30 cents, but the selling price was 80 cents. After deducting the cost and the wages paid to the villagers, he could make more than 40 cents per jin. 500 jin of dried fruit would earn him more than 200 yuan, which was more profitable than making pastries.
Just as the candied fruit was selling briskly, Lin Wanqiu noticed several unfamiliar faces frequently loitering near the workshop, asking the villagers about the recipe. Shen Tingzhou also noticed and reminded her, "These people are probably from other workshops in the county, trying to imitate our candied fruit making." Lin Wanqiu was already prepared; she knew that good things would always be imitated, but she possessed modern culinary recipes and spatial abilities, making it difficult for others to copy her. "It's alright," she said with a smile, "Let them imitate if they want. We'll just introduce new recipes and keep them from catching up."
The lights in the workshop were still on that night. Lin Wanqiu sat under the lamp, holding a notebook filled with exclusive recipes for various dried fruits: honey apple preserves, licorice hawthorn preserves, osmanthus pear preserves. These recipes all required special seasonings and techniques, and couldn't be easily imitated. Shen Tingzhou sat beside her, looking at the recipes in the notebook, his eyes full of support: "These recipes are good. They're innovative and highlight the unique characteristics of our dried fruits. Even if others try to imitate them, they won't be able to replicate our taste."
Nian'an was asleep, slumped over the corner of the table, a half-eaten pear still clutched in his hand. Lin Wanqiu gently took the pear from his hand and covered him with a light blanket. Looking at her sleeping son and husband beside her, and the mountain of sealed jars piled up in the workshop, she felt a surge of happiness and peace—she knew that as long as the family worked together and kept innovating, no matter how many imitators there were, their workshop would continue to thrive, steadily moving towards their goal of achieving a moderately prosperous life.
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