My Sauce Jar Was Sold by My Brother for Fifty Yuan

Tang Man grew up in Donggong Temple, Wenjiang, and his grandmother Min Zhaozhen was the last owner of that old sauce vat. The year my grandma passed away, she verbally lent the Old Sauce Shop to her younger brother, took away a copy of the "Jiaojiang Book", and brought a jar of Laojiao Sauce from the bottom of the vat into Chengdu. Ten years later, Chengdu's thirty noodle chain "Ji Ji Restaurant" has gained a foothold by relying on its ancestral sauce. Zhou Ji was talking on the stage about the three generations of the Zhou family. Tang Man was scraping the walls of the cylinder with bamboo slices in an old warehouse on the outskirts of the city. She gave away a jar of sauce every month for ten years, and no one ever asked where the jar of sauce came from. Until the old tank was sold as scrap metal by her brother for fifty yuan. Until the divorce agreement stated a compensation of 100,000 yuan. Until she saw Tang Li standing in the rain holding an umbrella with her hand on her belly. She didn't argue, didn't make a fuss, and didn't cry to anyone. She just stopped the sauce. The taste was off on the third day, the franchise store gave feedback on the fifth day, the phone call came on the seventh day, and the blogger took a video at the door on the 20th day, saying that the taste was no longer the same as before. Zhou Ji stood in front of her and asked, what did you put in the sauce. Tang Man said, let it go for ten years. The story of a woman relearning how to give. Give it spoonful by spoonful, to those who deserve it, to those who remember.