Mrs. Ye said, "If you want to eat, I will go to Zhuang Yonghe's place early tomorrow to buy a piece, then steam some rice and fry the tofu for lunch tomorrow."
"Alright," Zhuang Jingye nodded, then sneered, "If the tofu business is good, then just grind more. What's with all the fuss, making it seem like tofu is something rare."
"You better believe it, it really is rare." Mrs. Ye said, "You probably don't know this, but every morning there are people who take more than two hundred pounds of tofu from Big Sister Ning's tofu workshop. It's said that those people are from the county town and they take the tofu to the restaurant there. Big Sister Ning also has to sell in town, and then there's what Zhuang Yonghe sells. With all of this, the tofu workshop can't keep up; just those two tofu pots, they can't grind more."