Wan Dongyang’s earlier concerns had been justified. After listening to him for a while, Liu Qishuang took the opportunity to mention his desire for loquat flowers and then immediately announced he was leaving.

What Liu Qishuang had been too anxious to voice for so long was, in the eyes of the Wan family, a mere trifle; they agreed without hesitation. He was about to go pick the flowers right away, but the Wan family told him to go after breakfast.

Liu Qishuang didn’t want to eat the Wan family’s food for nothing, lest they think he was a beggar, but the Wan family cited the work he’d done that morning, and Wan Dongyang called it compensation for the injustice done to him, and insisted on keeping him there.

Breakfast at the Wan household was always simple. Most days, it consisted of either boiled noodles or a large pot of soup rice made from the previous afternoon’s leftovers, served with a few side dishes. This morning’s meal was soup rice.

No one knew who had asked for it, but Lin Qiuyue had also made fried eggs this morning. Each egg was slightly browned around the edges, with a rich, eggy aroma. They were stacked high on a plate—there must have been a dozen or so.

There aren’t many rules at a farmer’s dining table. Unless the table is completely covered with food, Mr. Wan doesn’t like to sit properly at the table. He took his large bowl, scooped two fried eggs into it, added some crisp pickles, and then left the kitchen. He liked to sit on the steps of the house and eat while holding his bowl.

As soon as Liu Qishuang picked up his chopsticks, Mother Wan placed a fried egg in his bowl, telling him everyone got two. After that, she didn’t interfere much; the family chatted about everyday matters and began their meal.

Liu Qishuang had never eaten a fried egg in his life; he’d only ever secretly boiled eggs to eat. He carefully picked up the egg from his bowl, took a bite of the slightly golden-brown white, and chewed it gently, filling his mouth with a salty, savory flavor.

It was delicious.

When he cooked with his grandfather, he didn’t even dare to use too much salt—salt was very expensive, and one packet had to last two months. If it didn’t last the full two months, his mother would beat and scold him, accusing him of wasting it.

But it was clearly his mother who used it all up. He’d seen her several times sprinkling salt into the washbasin—he had no idea what she was doing—yet she’d blame him for using too much salt when cooking. It was infuriating.

The meal didn’t take long. Afterward, Wan Dongyang and Liu Qishuang headed out together. When they reached the door of his second-oldest brother’s house, he shouted inside, calling for Wan Xiaohua to come out. He didn’t notice at all that the moment he spoke, the person standing beside him silently took two steps back.

Wan Dongyang called her out but didn’t wait for her. By the time Wan Xiaohua ran out the gate, the two of them were already up in a tree. Seeing that they’d climbed a loquat tree, Wan Xiaohua pouted, feeling she’d been tricked.

She’d thought her uncle and Liu-ger were heading into the mountains. Since she’d already chased them out, she wasn’t going back—climbing a tree seemed like fun anyway.

Once Liu Qishuang was up in the loquat tree, his brow gradually furrowed. There weren’t many loquat flowers left on the tree; instead, the branches were covered with small green fruits covered in white fuzz. He had no idea how many loquat flowers the Jiang family needed, but if there weren’t enough, he could take advantage of his parents thinking he was working at the Wan household and hurry off to the mountains.

By the time the three of them climbed down, the bottom of Liu Qishuang’s back basket was filled with loquat flowers. He thanked the Wan family uncle and nephew and hurried back to the village. Wan Dongyang watched his retreating figure and sighed; Wan Xiaohua gazed at the woods behind the house and sighed as well. The uncle and niece then headed home together.

At the Jiang Family

Old Master Jiang frowned but said nothing. His eldest daughter-in-law, however, was straightforward and blunt. “Xu-ger,” she said, “you know my father-in-law gave you two packets of medicine last time. We only deal in herbal remedies here, and a single packet sells for ten or so wen. You’ve brought in such a meager amount, yet you’re asking for more medicine. This puts us in a difficult position.”

Liu Qishuang knew that half of the Jiang family’s income depended on Old Master Jiang. He didn’t want to barter medicine for medicine; he’d rather just pay with cash. But he couldn’t save any cash, and gradually, he’d lost the will to save.

“Old Master Jiang, how much more do you need? I’ll go look for some more in the mountains and bring it over today.” Liu Qishuang dared not look at Niu Meiyu; he spoke only to Old Master Jiang.

Old Master Jiang cast a casual glance at his daughter-in-law, then pointed at the back basket on Liu Qishuang’s back and said, “Just bring over about this much more.” 

“Alright, I’ll bring it over later this afternoon.”

After Liu Qishuang stepped out of the Jiang household, she heard voices arguing inside. Niu Meiyu was complaining to Old Master Jiang, and the embarrassment on his face deepened, making the situation even more awkward.

He hadn’t actually asked for things for nothing. Although she usually took medicine from the Jiang household, every summer and autumn, she would send Old Master Jiang a considerable amount of pinellia ternata and seeds. He didn’t know about other herbs, but these two weren’t cheap at the pharmacy.

A pinch of pinellia ternata costs several hundred copper coins per pound, and while pinellia seeds were slightly cheaper, they were still pricey—around a hundred copper coins per pound.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t have sold the herbs directly for cash—it would have been simpler and more convenient to buy medicine with the cash—but his mother was shrewd. Whenever he went to town to sell anything, she would accompany him; even if she didn’t tag along, she’d calculate the approximate price. The silver he brought home had to be more, not less; if it was short, he’d get a beating. He simply couldn’t save any money.

After getting beaten a few times and still not managing to save a single wen, he stopped selling medicine altogether. Instead, he simply took it straight to the Jiang family, so that when he or his grandfather had a headache or a fever, they could trade it for a few packets of medicine.

The spring breeze had a distinct scent. The wind, blowing freely in all directions, carried the fragrance of flowers from every corner of the village to people’s noses. Now that March was approaching, the blossoms on the fruit trees had already faded, and the air was filled mostly with the scent of wildflowers.

As Liu Qishuang stepped out of the Jiang household, he suddenly caught a whiff of a rich, wild floral scent. Turning his head, she saw Jiang Baoer and a few other children about her age playing house. The children had their heads adorned with wildflowers; every strand of hair was hidden by the blossoms, making them look like a group of little flower fairies.

Children are like that—carefree, happy, and innocent. If only he could stay that way forever. No, wait—he’s already grown up. So he’d better grow up even faster.

Leaving the Jiang household, Liu Qishuang headed straight for the back of the village. Just as he passed the Wan family’s gate, he ran into Wan Dongyang and Wan Xiaohua, who were just about to head out, and both uncle and nephew were carrying things.

Wan Xiaohua carried a basket, and Wan Dongyang carried a back basket. In addition, they both held tools in their hands: Wan Xiaohua held a small hoe no more than two inches long, and Wan Dongyang held a curved knife.

The mountains behind Wanjia Dam aren’t all the same. The large mountain directly behind the village is almost entirely covered in pine trees, with only a few scattered spindle trees, Chinese bay trees, and lacquer trees—so few they’re practically negligible. Naturally, there aren’t many wild vegetables in that forest; the ground is covered only with pine needles and weeds.

Villagers looking for mountain produce would either head into the South Mountain through the trailhead behind the Liu family’s house or enter the mountains from the southeast corner behind the Wan family’s house, heading toward the deep, ancient forests. Alternatively, they could follow the large ditch running alongside the Wan family’s house all the way up; both of these routes offered plenty of wild fruits and vegetables.

The three of them followed the large ditch upstream until they reached the main road leading into the deep, ancient forest. Liu Qishuang couldn’t help but glance toward the old forest.

He remembered that his grandmother’s hometown lay beyond that point, though her family home wasn’t actually in the old forest itself, but in a mountain ravine halfway along the route.

That mountain ravine was known as Yangjia Gorge. It had once been quite lively, but unfortunately, the families in the deep mountains were like flowing water—always drawn to lower ground. The residents gradually moved down the mountain, and by about ten years ago, only a few households remained. Then, some five or six years ago, a bear came down from the mountains and happened to stumble upon that ravine.

Several of the villagers fell victim to the bear. During that time, yellow paper fluttered all over the mountains of Yangjia Gorge, and the wails of women, children, and the elderly echoed ceaselessly day after day.

Out of benevolence, the imperial court, to ensure the safety and livelihoods of the people there, resettled the few remaining households in a nearby village at the foot of the mountain. They were also allocated barren hills to cultivate on their own, and the court exempted those households from head taxes and land taxes for five years. Now, those families have long since settled down at the foot of the mountain; there are two such households in their village, and this year marks the first year they have begun paying taxes.

From that time on, his grandfather never returned to Yangjia Gorge, and he never again tasted the sweet ice jelly fruit or the ice jelly made from those fruits.

“Ah!” Lost in thought for a moment, Liu Qishuang stumbled. Fortunately, she didn’t fall into the ravine; instead, she landed on a large rock beside it, plopping right down onto it.

Seeing that she was still lost in thought, Wan Dongyang glanced toward Zhushan Village and asked in puzzlement, “What are you looking at? Your neck’s practically craning all the way to Zhushan Village. You aren’t planning on going to the Old Mountain Forest, are you?”

The Old Mountain Forest…

Liu Qishuang had snapped back to his senses by then, but he soon drifted off again—because he really did want to go to the “Old Vegetable Forest” Wan Dongyang had mentioned.

The “Old Vegetable Forest” was actually just a deep, ancient forest. Because a type of wild vegetable—delicious and expensive—grew there, villagers mostly went to that old forest for it, and so people came to call it the “Old Vegetable Forest.”

If he could go and pick those wild vegetables, even if he only managed to bring back twenty or so pounds, he’d still make over a hundred wen. Going two or three times would net him two or three hundred wen. By then, even if he got beaten, he’d find a way to hide fifty or sixty of them. That would be enough to go to the clinic in town and buy his grandfather a proper prescription—no longer having to rely on the village’s weak, ineffective herbal remedies. Perhaps then his grandfather might actually get better.

The more Liu Qishuang thought about it, the more his heart raced, yet he knew there was still over a month left. Perhaps if he handed in the loquat flowers today and got the medicine from the Jiang family, his grandfather might recover after taking it.

“Have a seat.”

Liu Qishuang snapped back to reality and heard those words. He’d thought Wan Dongyang was angry, but he’d overthought it—Wan Dongyang had actually pulled Wan Xiaohua over and sat down as well.

So it was just a rest break—not because he was annoyed at being kept waiting.

The ravine where they sat was strewn with large, bleached stones eroded by the summer floods. Now, wild grasses had sprung up in the crevices and all around them. As far as the eye could see, it was a sea of wild greenery, and the breeze carried the scent of fresh grass.

Liu Qishuang recognized some of the wild plants. He looked at the small pond formed by a depression in the ground not far away; there was plenty of water celery growing along its edge—a plant that was edible. In the low-lying areas beside the pond, there were also plenty of water spinach and lamb’s quarters. These wild vegetables tasted quite good; once cooked, they had no bitter or fishy aftertaste, but instead possessed an indescribable fragrance that cultivated vegetables lacked.

“There are already quite a few wild vegetables here.” Liu Qishuang’s purpose today wasn’t to forage for wild vegetables, so naturally, he wouldn’t linger here. He left those words and was about to get up and continue on his way, but Wan Dongyang, who was standing just a body’s length away, pressed down on his shoulder, forcing him to sit back down.

“…….. ” Liu Qishuang looked over, puzzled, a hint of grievance still on his face. How could Wan Dongyang be so strong? With just a single push, he plopped right back down, unable to even stand properly.

Liu Qishuang felt both angry and frustrated; he even secretly resented the heavens. Why would the heavens bestow such immense strength upon someone who didn’t need it?

The Wan family lived well, and the Wans treated their own kindly. What use was all that strength to Wan Dongyang? It should have been given to him. If he had that kind of strength, he would have picked his father up and tossed him onto the roof long ago—why would they have to live so cautiously now?

Liu Qishuang’s frustration and sense of injustice lasted only a moment because immediately afterward, he had no time to dwell on it. Wan Dongyang brought out the beautiful pastries from that day and handed them to him and Wan Xiaohua.