The next morning, after feeding the family’s pig and a brood of chickens and ducks, the brothers set off with their carrying poles. They filled the large water jar in the courtyard before each changed into clean clothes and headed together to the Zhou household.

Before leaving, Huo Ling specifically led Dager along.

This was a case of learning from past mistakes, as they’d suffered a setback over this very issue last year.

Back then, a matchmaker had traveled between the two villages, painting an overly rosy picture. She claimed a ger from the neighboring village was willing to marry into their family, unconcerned by Huo Ling’s unstable trade and even eager to move into the mountains.

But during the viewing, the ger caught sight of Dager and turned ashen-faced, collapsing on the spot.

They shouted for help, carried him to the doctor, and revived him by pinching his nose. Yet the ger wailed and refused to marry, crying that the matchmaker had deceived him—he’d never known Huo Ling was a mountain hunter.

Matchmaking was all about spinning a favorable tale, and besides, Huo Ling was exceptionally handsome and well-built. The matchmaker had reckoned that the ger would surely agree upon seeing his face.

Little did she know someone could fear dogs to such an extreme. In the end, the matchmaker earned no gift money but instead paid for medicine. From then on, she slunk away, never daring to set foot in Shanshan Village again.

Seeing Huo Ling lead the dog, Huo Feng recalled last year’s unpleasant incident that had left the family with false hopes.

He only hoped this trip wouldn’t be in vain, that his second brother’s marriage might finally be settled.

But things didn’t go as smoothly as hoped.

No sooner had they reached the Zhou family’s courtyard gate than they heard the clamor inside.

Matchmaker Zhao, who had led them into the village, was surrounded by a crowd of villagers. Their chattering voices made her heart boil with anger, leaving her parched and breathless.

Ye Suping spotted some familiar faces in the crowd, went to inquire, and returned with a deeply troubled expression.

“What’s going on? Why all this commotion here?”

Huo Feng asked, cradling his daughter. Ye Suping glanced at her two brothers and sighed heavily.

“They say the number of people sent to the village isn’t enough. Originally, there were supposed to be at least five or six. After all, our village has plenty of bachelors. The village chief even went to the town government office to plead for them. But when they arrived, only two were left. The others were intercepted along the way.”

No sooner had she finished speaking than the voices on the other side grew louder again. Matchmaker Zhao, unable to bear it any longer, had climbed onto a slightly higher boulder, hands on her hips, shouting at the crowd.

“You demand I hand them over now? I couldn’t do it even if you tore my head off! I’ve said it time and again—they were intercepted en route at Shuangjing Village by the Shen family. They’re wealthy landlords! Is it not proper for them to take a few girls and ger as servants? Not only is it proper, but the authorities will reward them, promising reductions in grain taxes!”

She flung her handkerchief and pounded her chest, as if the anger had caused her physical pain.

“What am I to a landlord? Every one of their arms is thicker than my thigh! Anyway, there are only two people left. Take it or leave it!”

With that, she shut down any further arguments from the Shanshan Village folk.

After all, who would dare go to Shuangjing Village and demand justice from the landowner Shen family?

Because they were connected to the Shen family, the people of Shuangjing Village always acted arrogantly, looking down on the smaller villages nearby. This wasn’t the first time they’d bullied others with their power.

Seeing this, Village Chief Zhou Chengzu banged his basin a few times to quiet the crowd. He raised his voice: “Things have come to this. It’s better than nothing. Those who wish to see it may enter the courtyard. The rest of you, disperse immediately! Don’t linger here and cause trouble!”

Matchmaker Zhao leapt down from the stone steps, her face cold. She thought to herself: If not for this official errand, a matchmaker of her stature should be sipping tea and nibbling fruit in the parlors of wealthy city households. Why else would she be traveling before dawn, tangled up with a bunch of mud-legged peasants here? Best to finish this task quickly and get back home.

At Zhou Chengzu’s invitation, she entered the courtyard with a raised eyebrow. The other men who had come to view the groom, along with family members and a crowd of onlookers, followed her in.

The Huo family stood near the front. Ye Suping glanced at the men brought by the matchmaker and murmured, “Why are they all gers?”

Gers were less likely to conceive, making them less desirable in marriages than girls. For instance, during formal betrothal ceremonies, current market rates dictated that a girl could command five taels of silver as a dowry. If she were attractive and came with a generous trousseau, the price could even be negotiated higher. In contrast, a ger would fetch no more than three or four taels at most.

Thus, when respectable families arranged marriages, they preferred to seek out girls first. Only if no suitable girl was found would they consider a ger.

But Ye Suping was merely venting. After all these years of delay, Huo Ling had no room left for pickiness.

Observing the visitors, the one standing left had a pointed face and sallow complexion, looking perpetually ill.

The one on the right appeared younger, with wrists thinner than firewood sticks, clinging constantly to the ger on the left.

As for their appearance, the journey fleeing famine had emaciated them beyond recognition. In truth, one couldn’t tell much. Taken together, neither looked fit for hard labor.

No wonder the Shen family declined to take them.

Ye Suping thought this, and the others present felt much the same, whispering and muttering among themselves.

Among them, Old Woman Zheng spoke the most.

“That sickly ger is absolutely no good. Bringing him home would cost us money on medicine, and if he dies before recovery, what bad luck that would be!”

“The other short one might pass, but he’s so thin and frail, even if we fatten him up, he’d never produce a son.”

Rude and crude, yet in the countryside, who didn’t believe in such superstitions?

Many shook their heads. Soon, the crowd thinned from two rings to just one, and even Old Mrs. Zheng left.

Her family still had a young son unmarried. She’d come hoping to save on the dowry and gain a son-in-law for free. But seeing these two were both money-losers, why would she do something so foolish?

Even without a dowry, they’d still need to be fed at home. If they couldn’t carry on the family line, it would still be a waste of resources.

And with their roots not in this area, they’d be hard to send away if needed.

With fewer people around, the surroundings grew quieter. The gers stood there still, silent, letting the gossip wash over them.

Huo Feng whispered to Huo Ling, “What do you think?”

Huo Ling didn’t really know what to say either. But since they were already here, and seeing his elder brother watching intently, he reluctantly asked the matchmaker, “How old are these two?”

“They’re both young. The shorter one is sixteen this year, and the other is a bit older, eighteen.”

Matchmaker Zhao added a few more words to ease the villagers’ concerns.

“Don’t look down on them just because they’re skinny and don’t look the part. If you had to walk a thousand miles away from home, you might not look any better. They’ve been vetted by the authorities, their backgrounds are clean, and they don’t even ask for a dowry. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!”

To Huo Ling, this matchmaker Zhao, reminded him of those urban brokers at the employment agencies, scheming to keep people tied down.

Huo Feng wanted his younger brother to take a look at the younger ger to see if he was suitable. Huo Ling shook his head decisively, saying he thought the boy was too young.

“They say he’s sixteen, but he looks more like fourteen or fifteen.”

“You’re only supposed to check if they’re willing to go into the mountains and if they’re afraid of dogs—why are you nitpicking about age? Can’t you even accept that he looks younger than he is?”

Huo Feng’s eyebrows shot up in irritation. He wanted to plead further, but Huo Ling’s stubborn mule temper flared, and he refused to budge.

So they watched helplessly as the stuttering boy from the Lin family led the young man away. They exchanged names—the lad was surnamed Xiao, Xiao Mingming.

Mrs. Lin beamed with delight, thanking the village chief and matchmaker Zhao repeatedly. She insisted on fetching eggs as a gift, but Zhou Chengzu refused. Matchmaker Zhao, unimpressed, finally relented.

A widow for many years, she had only one son, Lin Changshui. Before he could even speak properly, his good-for-nothing father had beaten him so badly he lost the use of one ear.

Later, he did learn to speak, though his words remained stilted and awkward, a condition that could never be cured.

Compounded by their family’s tight finances, they couldn’t afford a proper dowry. By the time Lin Changshui turned twenty, his marriage prospects remained bleak.

While others might pick and choose based on ger fertility, she knew her own limitations and didn’t mind. Having someone was better than having no one at all.

Even if he truly couldn’t father children, they could always adopt a child from a distant relative in another village. Raised from infancy, he’d be just as good as a biological son.

As the Lin family prepared to take Xiao Mingming away, Huo Ling made to leave as well. Zhou Chengzu noticed and called out to stop them.

He and Huo Laoshuian, the father of the Huo brothers, had been close friends. Huo Feng and Huo Ling even called him “Uncle”.

Huo Laoshuian had passed away early, and Zhou Chengzu often felt a pang of sorrow when he remembered him.

In his eyes, Huo Ling was a fine lad in every way except for his stubborn streak. He seemed to have inherited the fearless, rogue-like spirit of the Huo family patriarch from a generation back—once he set his mind on something, not even eight donkeys could pull him back.

Take marriage, for instance. If he didn’t bring someone home soon, he’d likely remain a bachelor for life.

He had to adopt an elder’s stern demeanor, nodding toward the remaining ger. “I see this ger is also a good boy. He’s not much younger than you. Anyone who could grit their teeth and survive the pass certainly isn’t without courage. Isn’t he just what you’re looking for?”

Only then did Huo Ling give the ger another look. Compared to Xiao Mingming earlier, this ger seemed utterly indifferent to his surroundings, his expression vacant as he stared blankly at a stone on the ground.

Huo Feng studied him for a long moment. Not wanting to offend the village chief, he replied diplomatically, “He is decent enough, but his eyes seem a bit dull.”

He hoped he was not slow-witted.

The matchmaker Zhao didn’t want to go through the trouble of sending someone to the countryside only to bring them back unchanged. Hearing this, she quickly interjected, “Oh dear, you can’t blame him. Everyone here has had a hard life.”

On her way out of the city, she’d overheard some fellow refugees chatting, and now she repeated what she’d heard.

“He originally hailed from Ping’an County within the Pass. His family was large, but alas, during their flight from famine, some perished and others scattered. By the time they reached the outskirts of Changlin County, only he and his mother remained.”

“What about his mother? Didn’t she come along?”

Matchmaker Zhao waved her hand, sidestepping the ger, and lowered her voice to the Huo family: ” His mother had no luck. She fell ill on the road and passed away before we even reached the city. To prevent the spread of disease, the authorities gathered many bodies together, set them ablaze, and buried them all in a single pit.”

This meant she didn’t even get her own grave mound. In the eyes of the people of that time, this was considered a grave act of filial disrespect. Otherwise, why would the streets be filled with such tragic scenes of people selling themselves to bury their fathers or mothers?

Who wouldn’t be deeply troubled by such a fate?

Even Matchmaker Zhao looked visibly distressed.

“After that great sorrow, he too fell ill. Fortunately, a kind physician offering free consultations in the county town gave him two pills, saying it wasn’t a serious ailment—just a few hearty meals and rest would see him through.”

Hearing this tale, anyone looking at the ger now felt even more pity for him.

He was so close to entering the city—even if it was just a widow and her orphaned son, it would have been some kind of support.

Matchmaker Zhao, having just heard Zhou Chengzu mention Huo Ling’s situation, immediately launched into her matchmaker’s spiel, chattering on and on.

“Huo’er, I’ve arranged at least eighty marriages in my lifetime—could I possibly lead you astray? Just heed my advice.”

She urged earnestly, “Bring this lad home. You won’t regret it. First, you’ll save on corvée labor payments. Second, you’ll have someone to warm your bed. A ger from a good family won’t lack skills in the kitchen or needlework—they’ve been trained since childhood. After that, all you’ll have to do is enjoy the good life!“

”At most, it’ll be a bit tough at first. Show a little kindness and spare him a few bowls of soup and medicine. Saving a life isn’t a bad thing—it’s all good karma!”

Seeing her enthusiasm grow, Ye Suping recalled the hardships her family had endured at the hands of matchmakers. She couldn’t help but interrupt: “I appreciate your kindness, Madam, but my family is ordinary. We don’t have the spare wealth to play the benefactor. Whether we take him in depends on fate.”

Matchmaker Zhao clapped her hands and raised her voice even higher.

“Fate? If you ask me, the meeting today is fate itself! What do they say? A hundred years of cultivation to share a boat, a thousand years to share a pillow?”

Seeing Huo Ling remained silent but didn’t bolt, she smacked her lips, sensing an opening. She stepped closer to fan the flames.

“Your auntie here comes from the county seat. Traveling about, I pick up all sorts of news. For able-bodied men to perform corvée labor is only natural. These past years, they’ve had no shortage of men, but money has been tight. The higher-ups took pity, so they let you pay your way out. But what if next year, even money won’t work? What then?”

She vividly described the hardships of repairing city walls and working in mines.

“You’ll go hungry and freeze, working day and night with your head down. If you go, you’ll come back either dead or skinned alive! If your body breaks down, you won’t be able to work when you return home. You won’t earn enough to feed yourself, and finding a wife will be even harder. One delay could mean a lifetime of waiting.”

Matchmaker Zhao, fearing the match might slip through her fingers, spoke until her throat was parched. Seeing the ger still standing there like a block of wood, she felt a wave of frustration wash over her. She smacked him hard on the back.

“You ger! Say something! If this match goes through, what good days are you waiting for? The Huo family is the finest in the village below the mountain—kind-hearted and trustworthy!”

The ger caught her slap, nearly losing his balance, but just as he was about to fall, a firm hand reached out, using a hard object to brace his arm and steady him.

Startled, he finally lifted his gaze and found a tall, sturdy man standing before him. The object used moments ago was a dagger.

At such a critical moment, he still had the presence of mind to consider gender boundaries. The ger’s eyes widened in surprise, and he seemed to come back to life a little.

He stood up straight and thanked him, then paused before asking, “…Are you a hunter, sir?”

Huo Ling hadn’t expected the young ger to speak to him.

Having watched him for so long, he truly believed the boy had gone numb. To put it bluntly, he seemed to have little will to survive, as if a gust of wind could carry him away.

It reminded him of his own grief when he lost his parents. His father had passed away early, and after more than a decade, even his face had become blurred in memory. But when his mother died, it truly felt like his heart was being torn apart. Back then, even stepping outside and looking at the sky made it seem gray.

“Not really.”

Huo Ling followed the boy’s gaze to his waist. Having spent much time in the mountains encountering wild beasts, he’d honed quick reflexes. After using it, he’d casually sheathed the dagger back into its leather scabbard.

“Why do you ask?”

“My father… he hunted in his youth. He, too, favored a short dagger at his waist.”

Huo Ling stroked the wooden handle of his dagger twice before suddenly asking, “Are you afraid of dogs?”

Matchmaker Zhao listened nearby, eyes wide and eyebrows raised, utterly bewildered.

These two were something else—their questions and answers never quite connected. In a way, it made them strangely well-matched.

The ger looked puzzled and shook his head gently.

“Not afraid. My family used to keep hunting dogs, and we loved them. But after my father fell and injured his back, he stopped hunting. The dogs grew old and died. We feared more heartbreak, so we never got new ones.”

His speech was slow, his voice hoarse. Every few words, he coughed, as if he hadn’t spoken this much in a long time.

Huo Ling found this answer satisfying. A dog lover couldn’t be all bad.

He whistled outside the door, then lowered his gaze to the scrawny ger.

“First, take a look at my dog.”