”Wild mallow greens, fresh wild mallow greens, three coins for two pounds!“

”Young man, take a look at my mallow greens. Picked fresh this morning. Perfect for a cold salad or a hot soup.”

Huo Ling and Yan Qi weaved through streets and alleys, searching for a spot to set up their stall. The constant clamor of vendors’ cries filled their ears along the way.

Compared to their last visit, many more vendors selling wild greens lined the roadsides. Sunflowers sprouted earliest, their price considered quite cheap.

But this so-called cheap price was only relative to other vegetables sold in town. Out in the countryside, they grew everywhere—who would pay money to buy them?

Yan Qi listened and observed the whole way, regretting not following Huo Ling into the mountains to dig up some sunflower greens to sell.

“If I had twenty pounds…”

Huo Ling watched the ger count on his fingers. Moments later, he heard him say, “That could fetch thirty wen. Enough for a meal of meat, and I could even bring Dager a couple of big bones.”

Huo Ling never bothered with wild sunflower greens. Compared to them, mountain delicacies like tender thorn buds and monkey leg vegetables fetched much higher prices—especially thorn buds, which could sell for twenty to thirty wen per pound in season.

Wild chicory only fetched three or five wen—hardly worth the trouble.

He’d intended to explain this to Yan Qi, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he said, “Fresh greens aren’t like dried goods—they take up too much space in the basket. When I went down alone before, I could only carry so much. Plus, wild greens don’t fetch a good price, so I mostly just grew them for home use. This time, rushing down like before, I forgot about them. Next time I come, I’ll gather some to sell. It’s still some income.”

Hearing Huo Ling share her thoughts, Yan Qi’s eyes brightened.

“After all, even a mosquito’s leg is still meat. It may not be as valuable as other things, but little by little, it adds up.”

He added earnestly, “Wild greens are easy to gather. By mid-month, other varieties should be sprouting too. I’ll get a bigger basket then and help you carry more back.”

After selling for a while, the two took sips from their water flask to moisten their throats. A man approached their stall—Huo Ling’s regular customer, Hou Li.

“Brother Hou, what brings you here today?”

Hou Li squatted before the stall, casually picking through the mountain goods. “Don’t doubt me—I came specifically to find you.”

He then asked if Huo Ling had hunted any game in the mountains lately. “I’ve been craving that wild pheasant meat for over half a month now, but I just can’t find a hunter to buy it from.”

Huo Ling asked in surprise, “What about that hunter Bai from Shuangjing Village? He never comes back empty-handed from the mountains.”

Hou Li replied, “Haven’t you noticed he hasn’t been at the market since after the New Year? I sent someone to Shuangjing Village to inquire recently. Turns out he injured his arm bone—his right arm—in the mountains after the New Year, before the snow melted. He probably won’t be able to hunt anymore.”

Huo Ling heard this for the first time and sighed, “That’s truly unfortunate.”

Since they both made their living in the mountains, they’d exchanged greetings and small talk whenever they crossed paths at the market in the past.

The white hunter was older, so Huo Ling addressed him as “Uncle.”

After a moment, he added, “His son must be grown by now. Did he learn his craft?”

Hou Li shook his head. “I haven’t heard anything about that.”

He then turned to Huo Ling: “You know I’m always hungry. But buying a game from town shops costs twenty to thirty percent more. Do me a favor—next time you bag a wild pheasant, don’t forget your old buddy here.”

The shops in town that sold livestock also handled game, mostly sourced from hunters. They naturally took a cut, which drove up the cost.

If you ate at restaurants or inns, the prices were even higher, far beyond what ordinary families could afford.

That hunter Bai was skilled—he always brought back strings of a dozen wild pheasant to sell, along with roe deer, wild boar, and mountain goats. Huo Ling had seen them at his stall; he also tanned hides and sold various furs.

Unlike Huo Ling, who only set snares and occasionally used a slingshot—though he could make a catch, he couldn’t compare to those who made their living this way.

“I’ll do my best. If I have any next time, I’ll bring it for you, Brother. If not, there’s nothing I can do.”

“Alright, that’s all I needed to hear.”

Hou Li then turned to look at Yan Qi. “I was so caught up in talking earlier. This is your…”

“My husband. His surname is Yan.”

Huo Ling introduced Yan Qi. “This is Brother Hou Li. He often looks out for our business.”

Yan Qi gave a shy smile and greeted the man. “Hello, Brother Hou.”

“Oh, it’s nothing special. I just like strolling around the market when I’m free, chatting with these mountain folk and hearing their stories.”

Hou Li waved his hand dismissively, then slapped Huo Ling on the shoulder. “You’re something else, kid. Got yourself married without a peep. When did this happen?”

“Not long ago—last month.”

Hou Li nodded with a smile. “Good. A young man like you should settle down and start a family.”

He then mentioned wanting two pounds of birch mushrooms to present to his father-in-law when accompanying his husband back to his family home in a few days. Learning he’d missed out on the black oil mushrooms, he expressed deep regret.

“Next time you have some, save some for me, too. This stuff keeps well—I can never have too much.”

Huo Ling selected larger pieces of birch mushrooms for him. Hearing him mention his in-laws, he asked, “I recall your brother-in-law’s family is from Dongjia Village?”

“That’s right. Your sister’s husband is a Dong. Most in their village bear the Dong surname, though there are a few others.”

As Huo Ling handed the selected chaga mushrooms to Yan Qi for weighing, he continued, “It’s quite a coincidence. I was wondering if you might know a particular family in Dongjia Village.”

He repeated the message passed on by Hu-zi’s father. Hou Li pondered for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t recall them personally, but your brother-in-law likely knows them. I’ll ask around when I get back.”

“Thank you for your help, Brother.”

Two jin of birch mushrooms cost just over one tael of silver. Huo Ling rounded down the price and slipped Hou Li an extra handful of kidney grass.

As he was about to leave, Hou Li turned back halfway.

“I was thinking earlier—if your hunting dog truly is top-notch, you’ll need to find a suitable mate for it anyway. Why not try the Kang family in town?“

He elaborated, ”The Kangs deal in porcelain—a well-to-do household. Their young master is fond of training dogs and hawks, keeping over twenty dogs of various breeds at home, all supposedly purebreds. A few days back, while drinking with some fellows, I overheard that the Kangs have been inquiring about quality stud dogs lately. If your dog catches their eye, you’re sure to get a good price for it.”

Huo Ling often visited the town but had never dealt with the wealthy families. He thought to himself that such households were never easy to approach.

Still, he thanked Hou Li. “After I pack up my stall, I’ll find a local informant to ask around.”

Huo Ling didn’t dwell much on Hou Li’s tip, but since he owed the man a favor and finished packing earlier than expected, he still led Yan Qi toward Taiping Alley, where the Kang residence was located.

On the way, he mentioned Hou Li to Yan Qi, explaining that the man’s family owned modest property in town—two rented shops that brought in monthly rent—and land back in their rural hometown. They lived a leisurely life, not wealthy but certainly not struggling.

“He’s straightforward, unlike some city folk who like to put on airs. I actually get along with him.”

Yan Qi had known Huo Ling for a long time and could tell the man didn’t interact much with strangers. It made sense—if he were the type who loved crowds and socializing, he wouldn’t have chosen to be a mountain runner.

Yet he wasn’t exactly taciturn or shy either. Yan Qi noticed that people beyond the Great Wall seemed to possess this particular temperament—walking down the street, it felt as though anyone could strike up a conversation with anyone else at any moment.

Hearing Huo Ling mention that Taiping Alley lay not far ahead, Yan Qi assumed he was looking for a streetwise informant. —essentially idle loafers who roamed the city without steady work, yet knew every corner of society. They had their own ways, like snakes and rats, and their information was always the freshest.

Yet Huo Ling didn’t seek one out. Instead, he waited at a spot overlooking the Kang family’s side gate. Soon, an old man driving a donkey cart pulled up. Two servants carried out two straw-wrapped bundles, tossed them onto the cart, slipped the old man some copper coins, and waved him off. Perhaps the payment was too meager, the old man tried to argue, only to be shoved aside rudely.

Huo Ling instantly dismissed his suspicions. The servants of this household looked down their noses at everyone. The young master, who spent his days playing with cats and dogs, riding horses, and training falcons, clearly had a certain demeanor. It was evident he was not simply a dog lover.

Back on the main road, he sighed, “That money wasn’t meant for us to earn. Best not dwell on it.”

Yan Qi remained silent for a moment, stumbling over a pebble as he walked. Fortunately, Huo Ling reacted swiftly and pulled him back.

The ger leaned backward, colliding into Huo Ling’s embrace, jolting him back to his senses.

“What’s wrong with you? You can fall on flat ground?”

Huo Ling frowned, bending down. “You twisted your ankle. Did you sprain it?”

Yan Qi did as instructed, then took a few steps. “I’m fine. Just spaced out for a moment.”

He hesitated briefly before saying, “When I saw that donkey cart earlier, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something unsavory was wrapped in that straw mat.”

He’d seen that style of wrapping many times before—it was how those who perished during the famine were often buried.

But judging by the size, it couldn’t be a person. And if it were, the Kang family would be awfully bold.

“I…”

He realized that every time he entered the city, his mind would wander into dark thoughts. Here, the clamor of people and affairs was unlike the quiet of the village or the mountains, where one could bury oneself in work and the day would pass quickly.

He wanted to explain to Huo Ling, to spare the man worry, but suddenly, everything went dark before his eyes.

Huo Ling raised his palm to cover the young husband’s eyes. “Close them. Think of something joyful. When you open them again, you’ll have forgotten what you just saw.”

A tingling sensation in his palm—eyelashes brushing against it. They stood in rare silence for a moment in a corner of the town, until Yan Qi gently pulled Huo Ling’s hand away.

The warmth lingered, and everything before his eyes seemed to sharpen.

Huo Ling couldn’t resist and gave the ger’s cheek a light pinch.

“How about it? Did that trick work?”

Yan Qi didn’t seem annoyed, letting him do as he pleased. He blinked and said, “It worked. Did you… Do this before, too?”

Huo Ling curved his lips. “Mhm. My mother taught me this trick.”

Leaving Taiping Alley far behind, their stomachs began to rumble.

Counting the journey, they’d been gone nearly three hours—their bellies long empty.

In Baojia Town, Yan Qi only recognized the noodle shop selling fried sauce noodles from their last visit, but Huo Ling insisted on trying a different place this time.

“There are plenty of good eateries in town. We only come here twice a month at most. I could take you to a different one every day for a year without repeating.”

Today they had white flour buns. The meat filling was diced, not minced, and each bun alone was larger than Yan Qi’s palm. The meat-and-cabbage filling cost six wen, while the pure vegetarian radish and vermicelli filling was only four wen.

Huo Ling ordered six—three meat, three vegetarian, since Yan Qi said he could only manage two. Spotting empty benches outside the steamed bun shop, they sat down to eat before continuing on.

Yan Qi bit into his bun, examining the filling inside, while beside him, Huo Ling devoured his buns in a few bites, eating with relish.

He mentally noted the flavor, thinking he might try recreating a similar meat filling at home. He could also make his own dough and steam large buns—certainly more economical than buying them.