Chapter 24: Ancient-Method Tofu

Qin Yun had occasionally seen news about intangible cultural heritage online.

Such as lack of successors, shrinking living space, weakened cultural identity, and so on.

Especially the crisis of lacking successors is the most direct survival threat to the discontinuation of intangible heritage, as most intangible skills rely on oral transmission and master-apprentice succession, involve long learning cycles with slow results, and inheritors generally earn low incomes—insufficient to maintain a decent life, leading to fewer and fewer people willing to devote themselves full-time to preservation.

Many elderly artisans are advanced in age, and their crafts face the dire risk of dying with them.

Compared to these, Hu Bingbing’s ancient-method tofu is already quite good—at least it generates income, and with the thriving tourism industry in Shouxian, its inheritors can live very well.

If done well and kept pace with the traffic era, the earnings would be even more obvious.

As far as he knew, several intangible heritage skills had already lost all their inheritors entirely.

Qin Yun, like most ordinary people, felt that preserving interesting crafts was naturally better, but for those he deemed useless or uninteresting, he thought it didn’t matter if they disappeared.

For example, paper-cutting and shadow puppetry—preserving such heritage allows the world to see the charm of Chinese culture, avoids global homogenization, and carries national confidence and cultural power, so it must be well promoted and inherited.

But some he found utterly meaningless, such as live-animal carving, livestock branding, and other feudal dross; even more detestable were those “invented” for the sake of heritage—lacking historical depth and cultural core, merely using the heritage label as a gimmick.

Hu Bingbing’s family’s intangible ancient-method tofu, from bean selection, soaking, to coagulant addition, each step emphasizes slow craftsmanship and meticulous care—a rare quality in today’s impatient age.

Most importantly, this kind of intangible heritage relates to human “eating,” and thus deserves inheritance and promotion.

Hu Bingbing stared at the Land Rover Defender at the door, his mouth watering.

“Senior, this is my dream car—you actually got it? Amazing.”

Qin Yun, watching the kid’s excited outburst, casually tossed him the keys: “Go ahead and drive it—just don’t crash it.”

“Thank you, Senior.”

Hu Bingbing burst with joy, snatched the keys, leaped into the car, and with the engine roaring, the vehicle shot away in a flash.

“Little Qin, is it alright if I call you that?”

Hu Bingbing’s mother walked to the door with food and drinks, placing them on a nearby table.

“Mom, you can call me whatever you like.”

“Bingbing doesn’t have many friends, but I often hear him talk about you, Little Qin.”

“Oh? What does he say about me, Mom?”

“Heh, he always talks about how you helped him—finding him off-campus internships, helping with his research projects—I don’t really understand those things, but I can tell he’s deeply grateful. Today, when he heard you were coming to Shouxian, he was overjoyed.”

“Hahaha… there’s no helping it—Bingbing looks nothing like his actual personality; outsiders have no idea how to interact with him.”

Thinking of her son’s personality and appearance, Hu Bingbing’s mother felt helpless.

He had a rough, rugged look, yet was incredibly sensitive, with a soft, whispery voice—this contrast seemed amusing at first, but over time, few people were willing to associate with him.

Men thought he was a sissy and told him to go away; women thought he was a sissy, lacking any masculinity, wasting that fierce-looking face.

Whenever this came up, Hu Bingbing’s mother grew utterly distressed.

Don’t be fooled by his young age—he’s only just over twenty-five, but after the New Year he’ll be twenty-six, twenty-seven by lunar age, and before long twenty-eight, nearly thirty—there’s little time left to delay.

“If I’d known it’d be like this here, I never would’ve let him come back—I regret it now. Working at a big company would’ve at least given him rich social connections and more chances to meet girls. Here? You can go half a day without seeing one.”

Listening to Hu Bingbing’s mother complain, Qin Yun couldn’t help but laugh and sigh. But as a divorced man, he had no right to offer advice—so he just smiled and nodded along.

Soon after, Hu Bingbing drove back.

“Senior, this car is amazing—it’s the 5.0T V8 model! I thought you’d added it yourself.” Hu Bingbing’s face glowed with excitement as he chattered on, completely oblivious to his mother’s uneasy expression.

A burly man speaking in a feminine voice, especially in front of strangers—Hu Bingbing’s mother looked utterly exasperated.

“By the way, Mom, Senior’s staying at our place for the next couple days—could you prepare a room for him?”

“I already did. Do I need you to remind me?”

“Hehe, thanks, Mom.”

Hu Bingbing’s mother said: “Little Qin, sit here with Bingbing for a bit—his father will be back soon and we’ll eat.”

“Alright, Mom, you go ahead.”

As soon as Hu Bingbing’s mother left, Hu Bingbing hurriedly asked: “Senior, this car cost over 1.3 million—really? You actually bought it?”

Qin Yun laughed: “What are you thinking? Even if I had the money, I wouldn’t buy it—I got it as a lucky find.”

“Lucky find?” Hu Bingbing blinked. “Cars can be lucky finds?” He’d never heard of such a thing.

“Yeah, this car was an accident vehicle. Since it was brand new, I checked it and found it repairable, so I bought it cheaply—spent about 200,000 total.”

Hu Bingbing blinked again, looked at Qin Yun, and confirmed he wasn’t joking.

“Senior, you’re not messing with me?”

Qin Yun didn't bother explaining and changed the subject: “I plan to start learning tomorrow—where should we begin?”

“Then let’s start with bean selection.”

“Aren’t we going to mine gypsum from Bagong Mountain first?”

“Huh? You’re going to do that yourself? We have suitable gypsum right here!”

Qin Yun nodded: “I’m filming the entire process—I need to cover every detail.”

Hu Bingbing thought for a moment: “Alright then, tomorrow I’ll take you to the mining area—there are several cooperatives supplying our shop; we can inspect and test-grind the gypsum on-site.”

“Fine, I’ll follow your lead.”

…

The next morning, Qin Yun was calibrating his equipment; after finishing, he faced the camera and began recording.

“Hello everyone, I’m Qin Yun. Yesterday I arrived in Shouxian and met my friend Hu Bingbing—Bingbing, say hi to everyone.”

He turned the camera toward Hu Bingbing, who awkwardly waved: “Hi everyone.”

Qin Yun turned the camera back and continued: “I don’t know if anyone here has been to Shouxian or tried its Bagong Mountain ancient-method tofu. After tasting it yesterday, I learned this intangible heritage technique exists, so I thought it’d be interesting to film the entire process.”

“Now, follow me as we experience the complete process of making ancient-method tofu—step one: selecting the right gypsum for tofu—let’s go!”

After turning off recording, the two set out from Daquan Village toward the Bagong Mountain mining cooperative. Daquan Village itself lies within Bagong Mountain’s range, and the mountains naturally contain mines, but for filming convenience, they chose the most accessible market.

Along the way, Qin Yun occasionally turned on the camera to record brief remarks, soon arriving at a market beneath the mining area—a fully formed industry, quite similar to what he’d seen in the ancient city.

“Many workshops in the ancient city originated from here,” Hu Bingbing said.

The two entered a cooperative shop, greeted the staff, and Qin Yun turned the camera to Hu Bingbing. Though Hu Bingbing felt uncomfortable, he endured it.

“For tofu coagulation, prefer gypsum blocks with fibrous structure—ideally 0.5–1 cm pieces, easier to grind into powder. Look at this gypsum: its longitudinal fibers are clear, the texture soft but not crumbly… This is raw gypsum; we need to calcine it to half-baked state to maximize its activity…”

After recording Hu Bingbing’s explanation, Qin Yun turned the camera to himself, selecting gypsum according to Hu Bingbing’s instructions while narrating.

Soon, they finished selecting the gypsum, calcined it on-site, tested grinding, and Qin Yun obtained his needed amount—about one hundred grams, with extra on hand for emergencies.

After buying the gypsum, Hu Bingbing took Qin Yun to Tuanjie Village to collect soybeans directly from farmers.

Qin Yun addressed the camera: “Shouxian’s local small-grain soybeans are plump and round, with thin skins and rich pulp—this is key to tofu’s delicate texture.”

Thus, under Hu Bingbing’s guidance, Qin Yun fully recorded the entire process of their ancient-method tofu production—though he performed every step himself, timing and technique depended entirely on Hu Bingbing.

When he inverted the mold, extracted the tofu, sliced it into even cubes, and held the tofu in his hands for Hu Bingbing to photograph, the system’s notification chimed on time.

【Check-in task completed. Reward received: Zoology +1】

【Zoology Lv.1: Track and Identify, Tame and Diagnose, Know All Creatures’ Origins】

In an instant, vast knowledge of zoology flooded into his mind—vertebrate and invertebrate anatomy, behavior patterns, habitat habits; migration cycles of mammals, plumage variations in birds, spawning routes of fish, mimicry in insects, hibernation mechanisms of amphibians and reptiles—all previously unknown, now instinctive.

Qin Yun blinked, suddenly feeling he could identify any species just by a paw print or dropping, discern an animal’s emotion from a single call or roar, and even master animal taming and disease diagnosis—it was absurd.

In just one minute, he transformed from a complete novice in zoology into a master of the field.

“Senior, what’s wrong?”

Hu Bingbing, seeing Qin Yun frozen in place, thought something was amiss.

Qin Yun snapped back, picked up his phone, and smiled: “Nothing. Thanks a lot today.”

“No need to be so formal, Senior. Let my mom cook with these tofu tonight.”

That evening, Qin Yun ate scallion-mixed tofu, tofu-and-crucian carp soup, braised tofu, Bagong Mountain tofu stew, tofu-meatball soup, and pan-fried tofu—so much tofu he vowed not to see it for half a month.

No matter how delicious, you can’t eat it nonstop.

Lying on Hu Bingbing’s bed, Qin Yun opened the video sent by Su Huan—and immediately realized his rough cut looked terrible in comparison.

The video on his phone had the same content, but its theme was sharper, redundant shots cut, pacing smoother, viewing experience fluid—fast parts sped up, slow parts lingered, with deliberate quick cuts heightening tension and excitement.

Even color grading, sound effects, subtitles, and packaging were polished—hard to believe she’d finished it in one day.

Yet the total runtime remained precisely thirty minutes; Qin Yun watched it all without skipping a second, feeling not a hint of drag.

“Thanks. How much?” he asked Su Huan.

Su Huan replied: “Free. The other party won’t accept payment.”

Qin Yun frowned, then transferred 3,000 yuan to Su Huan: “Give this to her—I don’t want to owe anyone.”

Su Huan accepted the money, glanced at her chat with Fang Nan, and saw her own transfer record to him—exactly 3,000 yuan.

“I have another video—ask her if she’s willing to do it? If yes, I’ll send it to you.”

Su Huan read the message and frowned: “You didn’t go rock climbing barehanded again, did you?”

“No, I just filmed a video on making ancient-method tofu—you know I’m in Shouxian.”

“Then send me the video.”

“Alright, uploading to the cloud now—I almost died last time using email.”

Su Huan didn’t reply. She reopened her chat with Fang Nan, thought for a moment, and sent: “Little Nan, here’s another video—same price, check if there are any issues?”

“Is it from the God?”

Seeing “God,” Su Huan sighed—yet remembering Qin Yun’s insane stunts at Shanzigai, he truly deserved the title.

“Yes!”

“Alright, Sister Huan,” Fang Nan replied, “from now on, for anything from the God, I won’t mention free or not—I’ll just charge 1,000 yuan.”

“Fine, agreed.”

Seeing Su Huan’s agreement, Fang Nan in her rental room raised her fist triumphantly—she’d failed at self-media, but now she wondered: could her edited videos succeed? This hope was essentially her placing all her dreams on Qin Yun.