Lin Yue and Shen Lingzhi usually went up the mountain together to forage for mushrooms and pick berries. Unfortunately, they didn’t harvest many berries today; even the unripe ones were practically gone from the trees. Although this meant fewer customers for their berry soup, another type of wild fruit had ripened on the mountain: the tamarind fruit.

Tamarinds can be peeled and eaten fresh, soaked in water, or used to make tamarind juice, tamarind paste, tamarind cakes, and tamarind preserves. With so many delicious ways to prepare them, they’re a local specialty loved by many.

But there’s one problem: you have to fight for them. Since the tamarinds stay fresh for over a month after being picked, everyone only goes out once and fills a whole basket at a time. If you arrive late, you won’t even see a single tamarind left.

Lin Yue hadn’t planned to pick tamarinds today, but when he passed by the tamarind trees, he couldn’t resist. He even dumped out half the firewood from his bamboo basket. Shen Lingzhi stopped gathering mushrooms as well, and the two of them worked up a sweat, filling one basket and two more to the brim.

On the way home, they even took the trouble to line the baskets with a layer of leaves. As soon as they stepped inside, they rushed to the kitchen, emptied the tamarinds from the baskets, and then each grabbed a basket to run back up the mountain.

This time, however, they were out of luck. As soon as they reached the tree, they saw someone already picking tamarinds from it, with two other people standing at the base. Fortunately, there were several tamarind trees in the area, so Shen Lingzhi grabbed Lin Yue and headed to the other side.

“Brother, let’s go pick over there. There are two tamarind trees there, though they aren’t as big as this one.”

Lin Yue had already started jogging. “Come on, come on, let’s hurry over there. Let’s try to fill both baskets.”

The two were in luck; there was no one under the trees they went to this time. They filled their baskets just by picking the tamarinds from the lower branches, and in the end, they even filled a burlap sack.

Lin Yue had grabbed the burlap sack on his way out; it was originally meant for red beans. Since he planned to make pastries, he’d moved it to the kitchen, and before leaving, he’d emptied all the beans into a basin.

Because they’d made two trips up the mountain, they’d nearly been late for the morning mushroom harvest, but fortunately, the gathering went smoothly.

After what happened yesterday, everyone who came to sell mushrooms today had cleaned them thoroughly in advance. Lin Yue and Shen Lingzhi set down their baskets and began weighing them. In about half an hour, they collected around forty pounds. Besides people from Linshui Village, there were also vendors from Qingxi Village—where Hao Yulan’s brother-in-law lived—and Yushui Village.

Although there were many people, everyone was cooperative and orderly, so Lin Yue and Shen Lingzhi didn’t need to step in to maintain order. It seemed that tomorrow, one person would be enough to collect the mushrooms, while the other could stay home to prepare food, allowing them to head to town early.

Song Xunchun and Shen Zhengchu were busy with farm work and went up the mountain to chop firewood in their spare time. Neither of them was free to help, so Lin Yue and Shen Lingzhi were the only ones manning the stall.

After much consideration, Lin Yue decided not to hawk his wares along the street today. With the heat at its peak, rice noodles and rice cakes soaked in cool well water were an absolute must, paired with a spoonful of brown sugar syrup for a refreshing, sweet, and smooth taste.

With sweet options available, savory ones were a natural complement—pea jelly was an excellent choice. With its turmeric-hued color, rich bean aroma, and delicate texture. Paired with Lin Yue’s secret blend of chili oil, garlic water, sour broth, chopped scallions and cilantro, Sichuan pepper oil, and soy sauce, each bite is spicy and appetizing—truly a summer essential.

The only hassle was washing the dishes, which was one of the reasons Lin Yue decided to stick to a stationary stall today.

Although the new dishes are good and the selection is quite varied, Lin Yue still prepared a traditional dessert to avoid disappointing his regulars.

Not only that, but the dessert he made today is something he’s never sold before—reportedly a recipe passed down from the north called “Donkey Roll.” Lin Yue always felt that the name had absolutely nothing to do with the dessert itself.

Making Donkey Roll isn’t difficult either. Simply mix glutinous rice flour with warm water and a spoonful of sugar, then knead into a smooth dough. Line a steamer basket with a steaming cloth, flatten the dough slightly, and steam until cooked. Sprinkle roasted soybean flour onto a cutting board, place the dough on top, and roll it out flat. Spread red bean paste over the surface, then roll it up into a long, oval-shaped log. Cut it into several pieces, and that’s it—the Lǔ Dǎ Gǔn is ready.

Shen Lingzhi was in charge of simmering the red bean paste, while Lin Yue was responsible for roasting the soybeans and grinding them into soybean flour.

Since there was still a bucket of fermented water at home, Lin Yue didn’t make the tamarind juice today; he planned to wait until tomorrow to make it, along with a tamarind cake. Together with the cold jelly and cold cake, these would be the snacks for tomorrow’s food stall.

Naturally, Lin Yue’s freshly made pea jelly was a must on today’s dinner table. He had made it once before, and the whole family had loved it; this time was no different. The four of them at the table each ate a full bowl of jelly.

Seeing how happily they ate, Lin Yue felt very satisfied and suggested, “Next time, I’ll make some buckwheat jelly and mix it with the pea jelly—it’ll taste even better.”

Buckwheat jelly has a whitish hue and a texture closer to that of a cold cake; both are incredibly smooth and refreshing.

Song Xunchun smiled and nodded, saying, “That’s perfect. This year’s buckwheat harvest is almost here. We’ll grind fresh buckwheat flour to make the jelly then.”

Shen Lingzhi looked up from his bowl and asked, “Mother, when is the buckwheat harvest? Is the sorghum harvest coming up too?”

“We’ll harvest it in July, in about ten days. Once the buckwheat is in, we’ll move on to the sorghum.”

Lin Yue thought for a moment and replied, “Then we won’t set up our stall then. We’ll come back and help harvest the buckwheat and sorghum together.”

Shen Zhengchu set down his bowl and chopsticks and said in a solemn tone, “You two go about your business. We didn’t plant much this year. Your mother and I will handle the harvest. Whatever we can’t carry, we’ll wait for Huaizhi to come home from school to help carry. It should be done in three or four days.”

Shen Huaizhi had two breaks a year—one for spring plowing and one for the autumn harvest. The autumn harvest break didn’t start until August, so he could only do his chores in the evenings after school.

Song Xunchun nodded as well. “Listen to your father. You two are already busy running your stall. You handle the laundry, cooking, feeding the chickens, and cleaning at home. You don’t need to help with the buckwheat harvest—just wait until it’s time to harvest the corn and rice.”

Lin Yue still refused. Since the rice had been planted, he hadn’t really helped with any farm work at home. Tasks like weeding and watering were fine if Shen’s parents could handle them, but how could he not go for time-sensitive work like harvesting?

“Father, Mother, we don’t set up our stall until the afternoon. There won’t be any mushrooms left by July anyway. We can work in the fields with you in the morning and still make it to town in the afternoon.”

Besides, if they went along, they could carry two extra baskets home; otherwise, Shen Huaizhi would have to carry them all by himself, and he couldn’t possibly manage that much.

Since Lin Yue had said that, Song Xunchun didn’t press the matter further. As for Shen Lingzhi, he’d always helped in the fields in previous years, so there was no need to say anything special.

After lunch, Lin Yue and Shen Lingzhi got to work. Buckets, lye water, food, mushroom paste, seasonings, bowls, and plates were all placed on the shelves. There was also a cart loaded with bamboo baskets full of mushrooms, along with a table and some benches.

By the time Lin Yue and Shen Lingzhi arrived in town, it was already a quarter past noon. They rented the same stall as yesterday; since it was located at the intersection, they could extend their setup slightly without anyone objecting, making it perfect for selling food.

The weather was beautiful today—not a cloud in the sky—and the sun was particularly blinding. Lin Yue had specifically rented an umbrella for shade, worried that customers might find it too hot to sit down and eat.

By the time they had laid out all their goods, another twenty minutes had passed.

Today, Shen Lingzhi was minding the stall while Lin Yue went out to hawk his wares. He hadn’t brought much with him—just a basket of donkey-rolled cakes—and as he walked, he called out,

“A new stall has opened at the corner of North Gate Street! We’ve got everything—cold jelly, cold cakes, and rice cakes with shrimp. We’ve got mushroom soup, mushroom sauce, and a wide variety of other treats. It’s our grand opening today! Spend ten wen and get one wen off, or get a free cup of mushroom soup. Don’t miss out!”

After introducing the stall, Lin Yue switched to a different pitch: “Fresh pastries from the north—donkey rolls—sweet and delicious. Two coins for one, or five for three.”

As he called out, Lin Yue worried that Shen Lingzhi wouldn’t be able to manage the stall alone. He hurried along, shouting his wares, and after a quick tour of the town, he rushed back to his own stall.

Because he was walking so fast, he missed two customers who wanted to buy pastries. No sooner had Lin Yue finished his call than he turned and headed down another street. The customers had just stepped out of their homes when he was already out of sight. They muttered to themselves, “What’s wrong with this guy? Selling pastries and running that fast? Who wants to go to North Gate Street on a sweltering day like this?”

Unfortunately, Lin Yue had no idea any of this was happening. By the time he reached his stall, he saw that Shen Lingzhi was swamped with work.

Two people were crouched in front of the bamboo basket holding the mushrooms, a family of three stood by the display rack, someone was sitting at a table eating cold noodles, and a little kid was calling out, “Big brother, big brother! I want a cup of cold shrimp—can you give it to me quickly?”

Lin Yue paused in his tracks, then broke into a smile as he strode to the back of the stall and got to work. The more people, the better—the sooner he sold out, the sooner he could go home!

“Here you go, sir. Your cold noodles are on the table.”

“Two cups of cold shrimp, four wen.”

“You’re ready to pay, right? Alright then, two bowls of cold noodles, one cup of cold shrimp—that’s eight wen in total. Today, if you spend ten wen, you get one wen off. Why not grab another cup of cold shrimp, or a bowl of cold rice cake, or even a piece of donkey-roll?”

The two had barely finished their work when, before they could even sit down for a breather, another woman carrying a basket approached.

“Young man, give me five bowls of cold jelly. Can you deliver them to that fabric shop on North Gate Street?”

Lin Yue knew that fabric shop; it wasn’t far from their stall. He nodded immediately and agreed, “I can deliver them. That’s fifteen wen in total. Normally, we give a one-wen discount for every ten wen spent, but since I have to deliver them, I can’t offer the discount. Would that be acceptable?” ”

The woman thought for a moment, then nodded in agreement. “Alright, go ahead and deliver it.”

While Shen Lingzhi was mixing the cold jelly, the woman had wandered over to the other side. “These mushrooms look good. It’s a shame—no one at home dares to stir-fry them.”

Lin Yue’s eyes lit up, and he immediately said, “Would you like to take a look at our mushroom paste? It’s made from fresh mushrooms, and we use top-quality oil from Liu’s Oil Mill in town. It’s three wen per spoonful—for twenty wen, you’ll get a full jar.”

Lin Yue’s spoon wasn’t very large; five scoops were just enough to fill a jar. Adding the cost of the jar itself, pricing it at twenty wen would net him a profit of about four or five wen.

The mushroom paste was the most fragrant item on the entire stall—you could smell it from several paces away—and it was also the most expensive. Earlier, out of the seven or eight people who asked the price, not a single one had bought it.

But this woman was clearly different. As soon as Lin Yue mentioned it, she was immediately interested. She took a look around the stall—everything was spotless. The oil in the mushroom paste looked fresh, and the two young men manning the stall were neat and efficient. Without hesitation, she waved her hand and said, “Give me a jar.”

Lin Yue beamed with delight. In no time, he had packed the cold noodles and mushroom sauce and called out, “That’ll be thirty-five wen in total. I’ll bring it right over to you.”

The woman paid without hesitation. “Young man, just count it out. I have other things to do, so I won’t be going with you. Just tell them inside that the shopkeeper bought it.”

“Alright, have a good day. I’ll take it over right away.”