Because of the bath, Dager was listless all afternoon. Only by evening, after basking in the sun until his fur dried, did he willingly come close to his owner.

Some of the dough prepared at noon remained. That evening, Yan Qi added half a bowl to it, making a large pot of cabbage dumpling soup. Dager ate alongside them. After eating his fill, he seemed to have completely forgotten the unpleasantness of the bath. He circled around and went back to lick the empty food bowl clean.

Up in the mountains, Dager had meat every day—mostly wild game he hunted himself. Huo Ling often remarked that a large hunting dog needed plenty of meat to grow strong and sturdy.

The steamed corn buns and vegetable rice Yan Qi usually gave him were merely enough to fill his belly, yet he still ate them with relish because he cooked them so well.

After the meal, Yan Qi took a clean old rag to wipe the dog’s mouth. When Huo Ling returned with water, he saw his husband gently supporting the big dog’s head with a tender gaze. Unconsciously, he drew closer too.

The only small stool in the courtyard was occupied by Yan Qi, so Huo Ling simply squatted down beside Dager.

Yan Qi finished wiping Dager clean and glanced to the side, thinking Huo Ling had come to speak with him.

But after waiting left and right, the other party still didn’t speak. Just as he was about to dismiss Dager to go collect the clothes drying in the courtyard, Huo Ling took his arm.

Huo Ling’s gesture was purely instinctive—he hadn’t planned to say anything. Only when the ger looked at him with puzzlement did his throat move. After a pause, he said, “My shoulder hurts a bit. Could you take a look?”

Earlier, Huo Ling had carried back two heavy buckets of spring water, and the pole had pressed precisely on the spot he indicated. Yan Qi didn’t suspect a thing and urged him inside to change his clothes.

“It is a bit red. Does it hurt?”

Yan Qi touched Huo Ling’s shoulder. “When carrying water, alternate sides. Shoulder pain can be excruciating. If it becomes chronic, rainy days will be unbearable.”

“It’s okay. Not too painful.”

Huo Ling’s shoulder actually felt fine—just a slight ache and swelling, nothing more.

He couldn’t fathom why he’d lied. Perhaps because Yan Qi was usually so reserved. If he didn’t take the initiative, the ger wouldn’t even reach for his hand, merely tugging at his sleeve at most.

This was especially true at night. The man beneath him was shy, always reluctant to make a sound. If not for the occasional spill of a few moans and the sound of his labored breathing, Huo Ling would have suspected he was making his husband uncomfortable.

But at times like this, the ger was completely defenseless.

Unaware of Huo Ling’s thoughts, Yan Qi hurriedly turned to fetch medicinal wine from the cabinet. Returning, he poured it into his palm, rubbed it vigorously until warm, then began massaging the man’s shoulder.

He asked several times if the pressure was strong enough, and each time Huo Ling said it wasn’t. By the end, Yan Qi was practically standing on the kang, massaging that patch of skin until it was red and hot before stopping.

“I’ll make a pad for the shoulder straps next time, sew on a few extra layers of cloth. That way, it won’t rub your shoulders. And you can also wrap the ropes around the back basket.”

A couple of days ago, he’d taken apart one of Huo Ling’s old garments. It was beyond mending, so he’d washed it clean, folded it neatly, and set it aside for making shoes later.

Sewing the pad was simple. Huo Ling’s clothes were oversized; cutting a sleeve would be more than enough.

Speaking of needlework, Yan Qi suddenly remembered the pouch still tucked under his pillow.

He’d intended to retrieve it before bed to give to Huo Ling. Now, glancing at the man drying his medicinal wine with his upper body bare, he hesitated for a moment. Then he moved toward the bed, pulled out the pouch, and clutched it in his hand.

“This… is for you.”

Truthfully, he rarely gave gifts to others. Though he’d once given Huo Ying a handkerchief, that was merely an elder’s way of appeasing a child—how could it compare to this pouch embroidered with red beans? The deeper meaning hidden within was not hard to guess.

With his thin skin, he couldn’t bring himself to say much when giving it away.

Huo Ling hadn’t expected Yan Qi to have prepared a gift for him. Instantly, not only did his already pain-free shoulder relax, but his entire posture straightened.

“For me?”

He took it, delighted. “A pouch? And embroidered too.”

These days, though men did use pouches, they were mostly plain, coarse cloth. Parents sewing pouches for their children rarely bothered with embroidery.

Thus, an embroidered pouch was like a handkerchief or jewelry a man gave to a woman or ger—if exchanged before marriage, it wouldn’t be given lightly without romantic intent.

Even after marriage, not everyone possessed one—it required both the sentiment and the leisurely heart to create.

With Huo Ling’s keen eye, he instantly recognized the embroidery. Even though illiterate, he understood the meaning of the red beans.

“When did you embroider this? I’ve never seen you do such work.”

He didn’t hide his delight as he asked Yan Qi.

“I worked on it little by little each day. It’s been ages since I last embroidered, so it’s slow going and not particularly fine up close. Please don’t look down on it.”

Huo Ling detected a hint of meaning in his words, surmising that the ger must have embroidered it deliberately while he was away. His heart swelled with delight.

“How could I look down on it? I’ve never seen such an exquisite pouch.”

He examined it carefully several times before tucking it back under the pillow.

”I’ll take it with me when we descend this time. I won’t bring it when we go into the mountains on ordinary days.”

When traveling, if something fell on the road, it was still relatively easy to find. But if it fell into some ravine or gully in the mountains, it would be extremely difficult to retrieve.

Yan Qi rubbed his earlobe and said, “I’ll go gather the clothes drying in the courtyard,” but Huo Ling grabbed his sleeve.

He sat back down on the edge of the kang, the man leaning in close, the distance between them suddenly closing.

The scent of medicinal wine wafted through the air. Yan Qi raised his hand, his palm brushing against Huo Ling’s bare chest.

This was the first time his lips had been pried open by a tongue while he was fully clothed. His entire body held its breath as he felt his waist slowly, uncontrollably, go limp.

Dager, the forgotten dog in the courtyard, barked twice. Seeing no one came out to play ball with it, it let out a “woof” and dashed to the back yard. Using both paws, it began digging at the buried meat bone.

 ━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

The day before descending the mountain, Huo Ling and Yan Qi went into the mountains together to gather thorn buds.

In addition, Huo Ling packed his slingshot. Last time in the mountains, he’d been so focused on gathering wild greens that he hadn’t noticed any hazel grouse chickens—or wild pheasants—along the path he’d taken. He’d encountered them in the days that followed, shooting two, but neither survived captivity. Worried they wouldn’t be fresh by the time they descended the mountain, he’d cooked them into soup for their own consumption.

He’d never sold such game before. His slingshot aimed well enough, but he couldn’t control the force—always aiming to kill for immediate consumption.

If he could sell this wild pheasant to Hou Li, similar deals might follow. Huo Ling resolved to practice his slingshot skills diligently.

The tree where they’d found the thorn buds last time was now much more lush. They carefully picked the green buds from the top. When they came across particularly thick stems, they used a small knife to make a cut at the base. This prevented the shoots from breaking off in pieces, which would make them unsellable and only good for eating themselves.

“I saved two eggs especially for today, so we can make a dish with the thorn buds when we get back.”

Yan Qi heard Huo Ling mention that locally, people paired wild vegetable buds with eggs. City eateries even had a specialty dish where these wild greens were coated in egg batter and deep-fried.

Deep-frying consumes too much oil. For families like theirs, deep-fried dishes were a luxury reserved for New Year celebrations. Being able to stir-fry eggs was already quite good.

Not long after speaking, the ger pricked his finger on a thorn bud.

He quickly withdrew his hand and examined it in the light. Seeing this, Huo Ling hurried to check for him.

“The thorn didn’t go in. It’s fine.”

He rubbed his husband’s fingertips. Seeing the ger frown, he said, “I forgot what you said about male and female shoots. Didn’t notice at first.”

Male shoots aren’t just thorny on the branches—the buds themselves have prickles. They can be a bit rough on the tongue when eaten, but they’re not inedible. It’s just that female shoots fetch twenty coins per pound, while males are only worth ten.

Huo Ling handed the dagger to Yan Qi, thinking his own thick skin wouldn’t mind the pricks.

“Use the knife to cut them. Hold the top leaves while you cut, and you won’t get pricked.”

Yan Qi tried it and found the dagger handled quite smoothly. He then concentrated on cutting the thorn buds from the lower branches. The higher ones, regardless of gender, had to be left for Huo Ling, as Yan Qi couldn’t reach them even on tiptoes.

After gathering the few plants they had found last time, Huo Ling led Yan Qi across the stream again to search for other prickly shoots.

In the mountains, waterways were key to navigation. Remembering the stream’s course indirectly marked the locations of many places.

Just like today, Huo Ling pointed to the mountain stream at their feet and explained to Yan Qi how to find their way back to the small courtyard halfway up the mountain if they ever got lost.

“There are more over here!”

Crossing the stream and passing several large trees marked by Huo Ling, along with trunks stripped of bark by bears, Yan Qi discovered a striking cluster of over a dozen prickly ash trees growing together ahead.

“We might gather twenty catties today.”

Fresh thorn buds were plump with moisture, each quite substantial. Selling them would yield a hefty weight.

“We should easily get three or four silver coins for this.”

“About right. The first harvest of thorn buds commands the highest price. You can start selling at twenty-five wen per bunch. If someone haggles, you can lower it a bit.”

Yan Qi listened and nodded. His business experience wasn’t yet that extensive, and only now did he realize this was a common sales tactic.

Simply quote a higher price upfront—provided the goods are of good quality and not excessively higher than competitors’—so that when buyers haggle, they actually feel they’re getting a bargain.

Working together, the two men “shaved the tops” off all the thorn buds before them. They needn’t worry about killing the plants; new growth would sprout later.

Most wild greens weren’t that precious. Resilient, they could keep growing and rarely withered easily.

The high price of thorn buds stems solely from their rarity in deep mountains, where few dare venture to harvest them.

After gathering two clusters of thorn buds nearby, Huo Ling led Yan Qi back to the stream. He instructed him to remove his shoes and socks and wring out the water.

Even if they didn’t dry completely, it would be better than the current soggy state. The walk home would take at least an hour; every bit of comfort counted.

“Have Dager watch over you. I’ll scout the nearby woods. This area has plenty of hazel grouse. I’ve caught them here several times before.”

Yan Qi said, “If you’re hunting, how can you not bring Dager? You won’t go far. If anything happens, he’ll be back in the blink of an eye.”

Huo Ling shook his head decisively.

“You never know what lurks in the woods. Leaving Dager behind puts my mind at ease. It’s just a hazel grouse—no need for his strength. If you refuse, I’ll take you home first before heading out.”

Such a detour would only waste more time. Yan Qi relented. “Fine. Dager and I will wait here for you.”