After becoming rich overnight, I handed over the system.

Chapter 230 Switching to Selling Persimmon Cakes

As expected, the three members of Uncle Ding's group couldn't escape Grandma Ding's scolding when they got home.

"You think you've made a little money and you're all that, buying meat and rice? Don't you know what your family's situation is like? You little brat!"

"Mom, Mom, stop scolding us! We're just trying to make money for ourselves. Besides, it's our family who will eat it!" The three of them ran away with their heads in their hands, and Ding's father still couldn't help but try to defend himself.

Grandma Ding got even angrier when she heard this, grabbed a broom and chased after her, yelling, "You can't even eat for yourself! You have to be careful with your money. There will be many more places to spend money in the future!"

Uncle Ding and his two companions ran all over the house, dodging and begging for mercy.

"Alright, the second brother and his family are doing this for their own good. Since they've already bought it, let's cook it and eat it!" In the end, it was Grandpa Ding who persuaded Grandma Ding.

"They've all eaten it, that won't do! We can't live like this! I'm going to the kitchen to cook!" Grandma Ding stopped what she was doing, turned around and went to the kitchen. She couldn't let the second son's family steal the food.

"Zhu Zi, come here and tell Grandpa how you sell persimmons?"

Grandpa Ding really didn't expect that they could sell these persimmons and get such a good price.

When this was mentioned, Father Ding became excited and recounted the events that had occurred at the market.

That guy was gesturing wildly, and Ding Lan realized that her father actually had a talent for storytelling.

Grandpa Ding listened in a daze. He looked at Uncle Ding, who nodded in agreement.

When Grandpa Ding looked at Ding Lan again, his gaze changed. "Our Zhuzi is quite clever!"

"By the way, Zhu Zi, tell your father, how did you know that the old man wanted to buy persimmons?" Father Ding didn't understand.

"Oh, Dad, that uncle is dressed better than us. And when I was selling persimmons, he was the only one who responded. People who didn't want to buy them would have ignored me and probably just glanced at me and left."

Ding's father thought about it and agreed. If they went to the market to buy things, they would just glance at the things they didn't like and leave.

"My son is so smart!" Dad Ding said with a smug look on his face.

"Dad, shall we pick some more persimmons?" Uncle Ding scratched his head and suggested.

“That’s right, Dad! These persimmons are selling so well, we should hurry up and pick some more!” Father Ding agreed with his older brother’s idea.

Grandpa Ding didn't speak, but looked at Ding Lan and asked, "Zhu Zi, what do you think?"

"Grandpa, I think we can't pick any more. Even if we do, the price won't be this high!" Ding Lan shook her head.

"Why, Pillar?" Ding's father asked, voicing the question everyone wanted to ask.

“First of all, we have another batch that will be ripe soon. Mr. Hu bought this batch today, and we can sell another batch to him. But the next batch is uncertain. Who wouldn’t get tired of eating persimmons for so many days in a row? Besides, by the time the next batch ripens, naturally ripened persimmons will be almost out of season. If we ripen them in advance, we won’t have any advantage, and the price definitely won’t go up.” Ding Lan analyzed the situation logically.

"So, we can't sell it just one more time?" Father Ding was extremely disappointed. He had finally tasted the sweetness of making money, and now he was being told that if he sold it just one more time, it would all be gone.

"How about we sell it cheaper?" Uncle Ding thought that even if it was cheaper, it was still money.

“But picking persimmons and cooking them takes time and firewood!” Ding Lan thought that selling them cheaply wouldn’t be profitable.

"Hey, why bother!" Uncle Ding didn't care. Farmers have plenty of time, and the firewood is collected from the mountain for free.

Ding Lan was speechless. It's true that poor people are willing to accept anything that doesn't cost them money.

Just as they were discussing continuing to pick persimmons to sell cheaply, Ding Lan remembered something.

She quickly ran outside and found the persimmons she had been drying; thankfully, they hadn't been pecked by birds.

She came running back with three dried persimmons in her hand, "Grandpa, we can sell these!"

The three men looked at what Ding Lan was holding, completely bewildered.

"What is this pillar?" Grandpa Ding asked.

"Grandpa, this is called dried persimmon, and it's made from persimmons. You should try it!"

She promptly sent one to her grandfather, asking his father and uncle to share one, eating half herself and leaving the other half for her eldest daughter.

Grandpa Ding looked at the flat, round, orange-red cake in his hand, which was covered with a thin layer of white frost and seemed to be translucent in the candlelight.

The outer skin has a certain chewiness when you bite into it, as if it's making a slight "confrontation" with your teeth, but eating the flesh is a completely different experience.

Soft and creamy, it melts in your mouth without any rough fibrous texture. When you savor it slowly, you can feel the fruit pulp gradually melting on your tongue, as smooth as silk.

Most importantly, it's sweet, a sweetness unlike that of ripe persimmons, rich and full-bodied.

As Ding Lan ate, she thought to herself, "Your cooking skills are really good. These persimmon cakes are a high-calorie delicacy. They not only contain a lot of vitamins A, C, and E, which play an important role in human growth and development, immune function, and antioxidation, but also contain a variety of minerals such as calcium, iron, zinc, magnesium, and copper, which are essential for maintaining normal physiological functions."

Of course, the most important thing is to thank Lin Liuyi for providing the recipe.

Grandpa Ding ate half of it and then stopped. "Zhu Zi, where did you get this?"

Ding Lan also quietly hid her half, saying, "Grandpa, you forgot? I just said it's made of persimmons!"

"Impossible! How could a persimmon taste like this!"

Ding Lan had no choice but to explain how she made persimmon cakes again.

"Zhu Zi, how do you know so much?" Grandpa Ding had wanted to ask this for a long time; his grandson seemed to know far too much.

"Grandpa, do you remember when a Taoist priest came to the village a while ago? He patted my head, and I felt my mind clear instantly. I saw persimmons and other things, and they just popped into my head!"

Ding Lan had already prepared her explanation. She had originally planned to say that she had dreamt about it, but coincidentally, an old Taoist priest had come to the village a while ago, so she took the opportunity to go up to him, brush against him, and then left.

Grandpa Ding was confused. "Has a Taoist priest come to our village?"

“It seems so, Dad. Didn’t Uncle Dayou say that he also brought the other person a bowl of water?” Uncle Ding remembered.

“Dad, it seems our family’s luck has finally turned!” Ding’s father’s eyes lit up when he heard this.

Grandpa Ding was also surprised, but he couldn't help but agree with Ding Lao Er's words; his little grandson was quite lucky.

Now that they had made up their minds, the group decided to continue picking persimmons, but this time they wouldn't ripen them; instead, they would make dried persimmons.

"Dried persimmon? What's that?" Hearing Grandma Ding ask, Grandpa Ding quickly gave his wife the half he had hidden.

"You old man!" Grandma Ding said, embarrassed. "It's actually quite delicious!"