David Clark felt that his cousin's excitement was a bit inexplicable, but he didn't want to ask.

After filtering the soy milk and bringing it to a boil, David Clark saw his cousin's face full of excitement, so he quietly slipped out and squatted outside to cry.

“Auntie! Andrew is still foolish.”

Inside, Andrew Bennett was curdling the soy milk.

Gypsum was considered a medicinal material in this era, but he used it to curdle the soy milk, dissolving it and pouring it in.

Watching the tofu curds gradually form, Andrew Bennett couldn't help but want to throw his head back and howl.

In his previous life, he had a neighbor aunt who made tofu for a living, pressing tofu in the hallway every day, filling the air with a strong beany smell. He would occasionally lend a hand, and in their chats, he picked up the craft of making tofu.

He lined a prepared wooden box with a layer of cloth, then put the tofu curds in, wrapped them up, added a wooden lid, and finally pressed it down with a stone.

This was to squeeze out the excess water and let the tofu take shape.

David Clark cried for a while, then went to cook.

The so-called meal was just two bowls of wheat porridge, plus a vegetable dish.

Andrew Bennett took just one bite of the wheat porridge and found it hard to swallow.

This wheat porridge was made from wheat grains, husk and all, crushed into small bits—so coarse that Andrew Bennett felt like he was eating gravel.

David Clark was sweating profusely as he ate, thoroughly enjoying himself, as if he were eating something delicious.

Andrew Bennett couldn't eat any more. He put down the rest, and David Clark said in surprise, “Andrew, what's this... You usually eat two big bowls.”

Andrew Bennett forced a laugh. “I just don't have an appetite today.”

In his previous life, he wasn't exactly rich, but he was at least half a foodie—how could he be willing to eat this kind of food?

David Clark slapped his forehead. “I forgot to make soup! Your favorite soup—you wait.”

He went back into the kitchen and came out later holding a bowl of soup, looking like he was presenting a treasure. “No wonder you have no appetite today, it's because you didn't have this soup.”

This bowl of soup looked... gray-black, with not a trace of oil, and all sorts of miscellaneous ingredients floating in it.

What kind of soup was this?

Andrew Bennett frowned a little. David Clark smiled and said, “You used to refuse to eat without this soup. I got hit on the nose so hard I got dizzy and forgot. Hurry and eat.”

The original owner apparently wouldn't eat without this soup, so it must taste great, right?

There was no spoon—he just drank straight from the bowl.

Just one sip, and Andrew Bennett almost spat it out.

Sourness was one thing, but what was with that rancid taste?

He gagged, and David Clark looked up with concern. “You don't even want this? Then you must be sick.”

“I'm not sick.” Andrew Bennett looked at the strange-tasting soup, hesitating to speak, and couldn't help but think it was a miracle these two cousins had survived this long.

He forced himself to finish the soup, burped, and felt like he was about to ascend to heaven.

David Clark asked proudly, “Is it good?”

Andrew Bennett fought the urge to vomit and forced a smile. “Delicious.”

He couldn't take another day of this life!

Chapter 3: A Man of the Great Tang Does Not Eat for Free

After breakfast, Andrew Bennett wandered around the house.

This home... had seven rooms, so it must have had some family wealth in the past.

“When uncle and aunt sent you to the village school, they also bought those books. After a few years, the family became poor.”

David Clark sighed as he spoke of the old days.

Studying in these times was truly expensive. Since printing wasn't developed, most textbooks were hand-copied, making books a major obstacle for commoners wanting to study. Add in all the other costs, and it really wasn't something a farming family like the Jia family could afford.

Andrew Bennett gave a perfunctory laugh and walked to the side room, reaching out to push the door.

“Wait—”

David Clark tried to stop him, but it was too late.

The door fell straight outward, and Andrew Bennett quickly dodged aside.

Bang!

The door panel hit the ground, sending up a cloud of dust that covered Andrew Bennett's head and face.

But the door had brushed right past David Clark's face as it fell, and he remained unafraid.

Andrew Bennett felt like he was about to be scared to death, but how was his cousin so tough?

“Cousin...”

David Clark said calmly, “After aunt passed, I often ran into things like this—kitchen knives suddenly falling, roof tiles dropping when I go out... all nearly hitting me. After a while, I just stopped caring.”

This was... a hard life!

So the whole maternal family was wiped out, and the reason David Clark managed to survive was because of his tough luck.

Andrew Bennett stood there in a daze, feeling like he must have offended the heavens to have transmigrated to this place.

It would be bad enough to be dirt poor, but on top of that, he had to carry the reputation of a jinx and a dunce—how was he supposed to live like this?

He looked up at the eaves, feeling like he was the unluckiest person alive.

Heavens, why couldn't you send me somewhere better?

A farmer's son, with only a rather sleazy-looking cousin, a whole village watching him warily, and at any moment, the imperial guards from Chang'an might show up and chop him down.

David Clark sat squatting to the side, counting coins from a money pouch.

Andrew Bennett was waiting for the tofu to set. In just half an hour, David Clark had counted the copper coins more than thirty times, looking extremely nervous.

On the thirty-sixth count, Andrew Bennett said helplessly, “Cousin, it's just five coins.”