Reborn in '77, I have a job panel!

Qian Cheng took another bite of the pancake. The pancake was crispy and fragrant, and when dipped in the meat broth, it was a perfect match.

Hou Yufen also ate with relish. She ate a piece of meat, then picked up another piece, but hesitated for a moment before putting it back in her bowl: "Eat more, it'll help you recover."

"Mom, you can eat yours." Qian Cheng put another piece on her plate. "There's still some left in the pot, enough for you."

Actually, there was only a little soup left in the pot, but Qian Cheng didn't care. Seeing his mother eating so heartily made him happier than anything else.

Hou Yufen was then relieved to eat.

The mother and son finished the bowl of meat and the flatbread, even dipping the flatbread in the soup.

After finishing her meal, Hou Yufen rubbed her stomach and let out a rare burp: "I haven't eaten this much in a long time."

Qian Cheng smiled as he cleared the dishes: "Things will only get better from now on."

"I hope so," Hou Yufen said, getting up to pick up the oil paper package. "I'm going to deliver meat to your brother. You stay home and don't wander off."

"Okay, Mom."

Hou Yufen went out.

After cleaning up the kitchen, Qian Cheng sat on the kang (a heated brick bed) and felt completely comfortable.

After eating my fill of meat, I felt at ease.

He looked out the window at the darkening sky, remembering how Zhang Mingxi secretly slipped him meat, how his older brother had taken care of him over the years, and the look of satisfaction in his mother's eyes just now.

Although this family is poor, the bonds of kinship remain strong.

He has to make this family's life better.

Qian Cheng had a sudden thought, and a screen of light appeared before his eyes.

【Chef (Newbie) lv.1: 6/100】

We need to find a way to improve.

There are still students who need to continue reading.

Qian Cheng got up, lit the oil lamp, and opened his textbook.

For the next four or five days, Qian Cheng would run to Zhang Changtian's house every day at dawn.

Upon entering the carpentry shed, without saying a word, he grabbed his tools and got to work.

Zhang Changtian prepared a pile of poplar planks for him, mostly scraps, not worth much, but more than enough to make small stools.

Qian Cheng can now make a small chair in about forty minutes, from cutting the materials to finishing the work.

This also includes the time it takes to catch your breath and drink water in between.

If you put in your best effort, you can get a batch in just over half an hour.

Carpentry Proficiency +1

Carpentry Proficiency +1

Prompts flashed before my eyes from time to time.

However, Qian Cheng noticed that his proficiency improved more slowly starting with the second chair.

At first, I would gain a little bit after one round, but later it took two or three rounds to gain a little bit.

After playing a dozen or so rounds, sometimes it would take four or five rounds to barely increase the score.

Carpentry (Newbie) lv.1: 9/100

When I got to the nineteenth chair, my proficiency level stopped at 9 points and I didn't move it again.

Qian Cheng wasn't in a hurry.

He knew this was normal; it was easy to get started but difficult to master.

At the beginning of my studies, every bit of progress was noticeable.

Once you have a solid foundation, further improvement will require more experience and more skills.

The chairs he made were better and better.

The first few pieces had some gaps at the mortise and tenon joints, and the chamfered edges of the seat were not smooth enough.

Later, the mortise and tenon joints fit together perfectly, the seat was flat and smooth, and the four legs were steady and didn't wobble at all when placed on the ground.

Zhang Changtian would come over to check on things every day, but he was becoming increasingly quiet.

For the first couple of days, they would offer some pointers: "This part isn't planed flat enough," or "The tenon there is too big."

Later on, he would just look with his hands behind his back, nod, and say nothing.

On the afternoon of the fifth day, after finishing the twenty-second chair, Qian Cheng straightened up and stretched his shoulders.

A row of small chairs stood neatly against the wall in the carpenter's shed, like soldiers in formation; these were all made by him over the past four or five days.

Zhang Changtian lifted the curtain and came in, glanced at the row of chairs, and asked, "Finished?"

"Master, we've finished making it, and we've used up all the materials."

Zhang Changtian walked over, picked up a chair, examined it from all angles, put it back, and then picked up another chair, repeating the same actions.

"Okay." He put down the chair, dusted off the sawdust from his hands, and said, "You don't need to come tomorrow."

Qian Cheng was taken aback: "Master?"

"I'll take these chairs to town to sell tomorrow. It's almost Chinese New Year, and every household needs to buy some new furniture. These little chairs are perfect for selling."

Qian Cheng then realized, "Then what am I supposed to do tomorrow?"

"Stay home and rest, or go study. Aren't you going to take the college entrance exam?"

"But the carpenter..."

"Carpentry isn't something you can learn in a day or two," Zhang Changtian interrupted him. "Now that you've laid a solid foundation, you'll need to learn more complex skills, but don't rush those. We can talk about them after the New Year."

Qian Cheng thought for a moment and nodded: "Okay."

Zhang Changtian took a small cloth bag out of his pocket and handed it to Qian Cheng: "Take this."

Qian Cheng took it; it was heavy. He opened it and found a stack of small bills inside.

"This is."

"I counted the money from selling the chairs; there were twenty-two chairs in total."

At market price, a chair can sell for 80 cents.

Twenty-two bundles, that's seventeen dollars and sixty cents.

After deducting the cost of the timber, which was one dollar and eighty cents, there's fifteen dollars and eighty cents left. It's all here.

Qian Cheng was stunned.

Fifteen dollars and eighty cents was no small sum in 1977.

Hou Yufen works as a sewer and mender in the village, earning only three or four yuan a month.

My older brother, Qian Lu, worked in the commune. His daily work points were worth only a few cents.

In just four or five days, he earned fifteen yuan and eighty cents.

"Master, this...this is too much." Qian Cheng tried to push the money back, "The wood is all yours, the tools are yours, I'll just contribute some labor."

"Take it if I tell you to." Zhang Changtian glared at him. "The wood is scraps, meant for firewood anyway. You managed to turn it into chairs, that's your skill, and you deserve the money."

He paused for a moment, then said, "Take it back and improve your life. Buy some meat for your mother, some wine for your brother, and a new coat for yourself. The New Year is coming soon, so it's time to buy some New Year's goods."

Qian Cheng looked at the cloth bag in his hand, and his nose felt a little sore.

"Thank you, Master."

"No need to thank me." Zhang Changtian waved his hand. "Hurry home, it's getting dark."

Qian Cheng tucked his cloth bag into his pocket, put on his cotton-padded coat, and left the Zhang family's house.

It was indeed getting dark. Winter days are short, and it was only a little past four in the afternoon when the sky had already darkened. The distant mountains turned a dark blue-green, and smoke rose from the nearby houses.

Qian Cheng walked briskly along the village road home.

Holding fifteen yuan and eighty cents in my pocket felt like holding a warm fire inside.

This was the first money he earned after arriving in this era.

Although it is not much, it is of great significance.

This means that he has the ability to survive in this era.

Even if he doesn't get into university, even if he doesn't become a master carpenter, he can still support himself and his family with this skill.

As I walked, I passed the river at the entrance of the village.

The river had long been frozen over, covered with a thick layer of ice. At this moment, there were two small black dots squatting on the ice.

Qian Cheng walked closer and saw that they were two children from the village.

The older one is the village chief's son, named Li Jianguo. He is fifteen years old this year, quite tall, but as thin as a stick.

The little one is Liu Laosan's youngest son, named Liu Tiedan, who is only thirteen years old and has a round face.