Fang Jie carried a sack of cotton into the small workshop.
"Grandpa, how many quilts can I make with this cotton?"
The old man was experienced and glanced at it.
Two beds.
"Okay, you can make me two quilts first, and I'll bring some more cotton over tomorrow."
The old man looked at Fang Jie and Song Fanxing in surprise.
These days, it's rare for anyone to have new cotton. This woman not only brought over a sack of it, but also said she had more at home.
He couldn't help but glance at the two of them a few more times.
Fang Jie then asked, "Grandpa, how much does a cotton-fluffed quilt cost?"
The old man paused for a moment and then said, "One yuan."
"Okay, then give me six mattresses. Here's six yuan, please keep it."
The old man almost lost his balance.
"Six...Sixth bed?"
"Yes, bed six."
Fang Jie said with certainty.
Song Fanxing smiled, her mother's increasingly extravagant manner startled the old man.
The old man accepted the money with an incredulous look on his face, then hurried off to work.
When Fang Jie got home, she urged her daughter to take out the cloth. The five bolts of cloth laid out on the earthen bed looked quite impressive.
Fang Jie began cutting and sewing the duvet cover and bed sheet.
The next day, she carried a sack of snow-white cotton to the small workshop.
The old man worked quickly and had already fluffed up two quilts, making them perfectly square with no loose threads.
Fang Jie was very satisfied.
The old man received the cotton and a look of surprise appeared in his eyes, but he didn't ask any questions and continued working.
Fang Jie tied the two quilts to the basket on her back and left the small workshop. Song Fanxing then put the two quilts and the basket into her spatial storage.
The two came empty-handed and left empty-handed.
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