There’s truth to the saying that many hands make light work. Relying solely on Huo Ling and Yan Qi, they couldn’t gather as much in a whole day in the mountains as five people could in half a day.

As dusk fell and it was time to head back, the group gathered their baskets together—each one was heaving with fruit.

Huo Ling and Yan Qi had also gathered some wild berries wrapped in leaves, which they now shared with the others to quench their thirst.

Locally known as “guniang fruit,” these berries hung from the branches like little lanterns. They had a peculiar appearance: a tough outer skin that, when rubbed open, revealed a yellow, sweet-tasting fruit inside.

Yan Qi had never seen them before coming here, and judging by the appearance of the skin alone, he never would have guessed the fruit inside was edible.

The men present had been eating them since childhood, but the two young gers were different—especially Xiao Mingming, who was tasting them for the first time. You could tell from his expression that he liked them.

However, these aren’t exclusive to deep mountain areas. Seeing how much he enjoyed them, Lin Changshui said they’d plant a tree in their courtyard back home, so they could eat them whenever they wanted without having to search far and wide.

Carrying the mushrooms back to the courtyard, Huo Ling left Huang Yae to watch the door. He then took Dager, Huo Feng, and Lin Changshui with him and headed into the woods to check the animal traps.

For Huo Feng and Lin Changshui, going into the mountains meant gathering mountain produce to earn money; for Huo Ling and Yan Qi, however, it was a rare visit from guests, and they were determined to treat them well.

The traps for catching pheasants and the snares for wild game in this forest were permanent fixtures. Whenever he was in the mountains, Huo Ling would make a daily round. He didn’t always come back with a catch, but when he did, it was a profit.

Dager had spotted the direction Huo Ling and the others were heading early on and ran ahead. Hearing its high-pitched bark, Huo Ling knew they’d struck gold.

“Whoa, two pheasants. We’re in for a feast tonight.”

Huo Feng lifted the pheasants out from under the basket by their wings, weighed them in his hands, and remarked, “They’re just a bit leaner in the summer—not much meat on them.”

Wild game is always at its fattest and most flavorful in the fall and winter; to prepare for the cold months, they all put on a thick layer of fat, and their fur becomes thick and dense. In the spring and summer, the fur of animals like wild rabbits, martens, and weasels is not only sparse but also lacks luster.

But eating pheasants isn’t like gnawing on a pork knuckle; compared to the meat itself, the broth is what truly makes the dish.

At the same time, Huo Feng noticed the new trap Huo Ling had set. Huo Ling reattached the snare right in front of them. At first, Lin Changshui deliberately looked away, thinking this was Huo Ling’s livelihood—he couldn’t very well let an outsider learn his tricks. Huo Ling, however, didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s not exactly rocket science. Anyone who’s spent enough time in the mountains could figure it out. It’s just that there aren’t many hunters around here, and I haven’t asked anyone about it. Maybe someone else has already used the same method elsewhere.”

So he remarked casually, “This method works well for catching birds and small game, but it’s no good for anything bigger. It just saves a bit of time and means we don’t need to station someone here to watch it.”

Lin Changshui mentioned that when he worked as a handyman in town, he’d seen people paying high prices for birds from the mountains.

“They want… the feathers—the ones with beautiful plumage—to keep in cages… to listen to the birds sing.”

He gestured with his fingers, “For a lot of them, they’ll pay… five or six taels.”

Huo Ling had heard of this trade too, but birds were hard to catch, and with their fiery tempers, they were difficult to keep alive.

Just look at those bird sellers at the big market—don’t be fooled by the five or six birds they hold. In reality, they’ve likely killed dozens just to get those few survivors.

Compared to that, it’s better to gather mountain produce to sell; the money earned that way is more reliable.

“Those wealthy families have so much money they don’t know what to do with it. Feasting and drinking aren’t enough for them; they have to seek entertainment elsewhere—cricket fighting, cockfighting, bird-keeping, dog training.”

Huo Feng shook his head. “It’s not like us. We’re happy just to have a bite of meat to eat.”

When Lin Changshui heard him mention dog training, something came to mind. He opened his mouth, clearly wanting to say something.

Huo Feng and Huo Ling didn’t mind his stammering; he rarely got the chance to chat with anyone at length, so he continued, “I—I know one. He’s in… town. His surname is… Kang.”

“Surnamed Kang? But is that the Kang family living in Taiping Alley?”

Huo Ling stopped in his tracks; this time, he was genuinely intrigued.

Lin Changshui nodded in confirmation, and Huo Feng couldn’t help but ask, “What’s this? Do you know the Kang family?”

Huo Ling shook his head. “Not really. I just heard about them from Hou Li. Back then, when he heard I wanted to breed Dager to produce puppies, he told me to go ask around at the Kang residence. He said there’s a young master there who loves dogs, and if Dager—such a fine stud—caught his eye, I could get a good deal out of it.”

Huo Feng knew of Hou Li, though he’d never met him. Before he could ask further, Lin Changshui waved his hand and shook his head. “That family—no, we can’t go there.”

Huo Ling hadn’t realized Lin Changshui had actually gone to the Kang household with a broker to work there. Though he’d only stayed for half a day, the Kang family had been quite generous, paying him a full five wen per person, yet Lin Changshui’s face turned pale the moment he mentioned it.

“No matter how much silver they offer… not even once more.”

After hearing Huo Ling’s words, Yan Qi accidentally cracked the egg he was holding.

As the shell fell into the bowl, he quickly dipped his finger in water to fish out the shard, discarded it, and looked back at Huo Ling, his face still filled with astonishment.

“So the young master of the Kang family actually tortures dogs for fun behind closed doors?”

He absentmindedly stirred the eggs a couple of times, then set down his chopsticks. “Brother Hou must not know about this.”

Huo Ling nodded. “He certainly doesn’t know. Didn’t you see that Changsui and the others were just doing manual labor at the estate? They accidentally saw something they shouldn’t have, so they were all paid extra silver to keep their mouths shut.”

A few coins meant nothing to the Kang family. Money combined with verbal threats was enough to intimidate these farmhands who’d come to town to work. He was certain they wouldn’t dare spread rumors—who would dare offend the Kang family, unless they no longer wanted to make a living in town?

It wasn’t until half a year had passed that Lin Changshui finally mentioned it to Huo Ling and the others.

“I never imagined this man had two faces. Outwardly, he pretended to be a dog lover, luring sycophants into sending him dogs—little did they know they were merely satisfying his unspeakable perversion.”

He furrowed his brow and said, “I recall the day we went to Taiping Alley; we saw an old man driving a cart with several rolls of straw mats lying on it. You said right then that something was off about those mats.”

Yan Qi also remembered that day; once the memory surfaced, it was as clear as day.

He felt a chill run down his spine. “So, those were probably all dead dogs, hired people to haul them away and bury them.”

Seeing the young ger’s pale face, Huo Ling raised his hand and gently stroked his cheek twice.

“Thank goodness we were on our guard and didn’t go to their house and endanger Dager.”

Yan Qi said indignantly, “What were those people thinking? How could they bring themselves to do such a thing?”

“In a big forest, there are all kinds of birds.”

Huo Ling was just as angry, but unfortunately, this wasn’t something they could interfere with.

Besides, it wasn’t something they could publicize, lest others follow the trail back to Lin Changshui.

A moment later, he took the bowl of scrambled eggs—which had been sitting there for ages—and quickly stirred it with his chopsticks. Turning to Yan Qi, he said, “I’ll cook dinner today. You go keep Ming-ger company.”

Earlier, both Xiao Mingming and Lin Changshui had wanted to come in and help with the cooking, but they’d been stopped. Now, while it was still light out, they were out in the courtyard with Huo Feng, sorting mushrooms and spreading them out on wooden racks to dry in the sun tomorrow.

“He’s got Big Brother Lin with him—why should I go and meddle?”

Yan Qi brought over a large bowl of chopped pheasant meat and said, looking down, “I’m right here. I’ll keep you company.”

At that moment, Huo Ling realized that he and Yan Qi were much alike in temperament. The livelier the crowd, the more they preferred to be together; even if they didn’t speak, simply sharing the same roof brought them contentment.

The two pitched in to finish preparing dinner: a dish of stir-fried pork with pine mushrooms, a stew of hazelnut mushrooms and pheasant meat, along with an egg sauce and a plate of stir-fried Chinese cabbage.

“This meal is just as good as what we’d have on New Year’s.”

Yan Qi kept serving food onto Xiao Mingming’s plate, forcing the latter to cover his bowl to stop him.

“There’s still porridge in the pot. Eat your fill—don’t leave any leftovers. Finish up and get some rest early; tomorrow we’re heading into the mountains to gather pine nuts.”

Huo Ling casually added a piece of meat to Yan Qi’s bowl and said, holding a pancake.

Mother Lin’s family was originally from Lu County, so she was skilled at making pancakes, and they really weren’t bad at all.

Speaking of gathering pine nuts, this was definitely one of the most difficult tasks involved in the mountain expedition.

The group agreed that Huo Ling and Huo Feng would climb the trees, while Lin Changshui and the two boys would gather pine cones at the base.

Lin Changshui could actually climb trees, but Huo Ling wouldn’t let him go up—being able to climb a tree and being able to climb a pine tree to harvest pine nuts were two entirely different matters.

Lin Changshui didn’t insist either. Although he knew he’d get a smaller share of the earnings if he didn’t climb the tree, it was still safer to play it safe.

Huo Ling also said that if he were truly eager to learn, he could teach him; he should just watch carefully from the ground first. Lin Changshui was very grateful.

Because the tree was tall and dangerous, Yan Qi didn’t sleep soundly that night, and he woke up even earlier the next day.

To make the most of their energy and bring back as much as possible, they didn’t plan to return for lunch, so they packed plenty of provisions. They didn’t need to worry about water; even if they ran out, there were places on the mountain to refill.

Besides food and drink, the most important thing was the tools for climbing the pine tree.

In addition to the leg bindings, Huo Ling retrieved two sturdy vines with large iron hooks attached from the house. He had made them last year by cutting vines, and they were still resilient enough to use this year.

Once they reached the base of the trees, he and Huo Feng each chose a tree. They raised the straight vines high, hooking the tips onto sturdy branches. Then, with their feet strapped into the climbing straps and pressing against the tree trunks, they pulled on the vines and slowly climbed upward step by step.

Climbing to this height was the easy part; the real challenge lay in the fact that until they reached the treetop, no one could tell how many pinecones were on the tree. If there were many, their efforts would not have been in vain; if there were few, they would have to resign themselves to climbing down and trying another tree.

Otherwise, why is it that during the annual pine nut season, even the most seasoned mountain gatherers can only manage to collect a hundred or eighty pounds of pine nuts? There are simply too many variables.

Moreover, last year was a bumper crop year with abundant yields, but this year is a lean year—it all comes down to luck.

“Brother, how’s it going over there?”

Having finally climbed into the tree canopy, Huo Ling clung to a branch to catch his breath. Seeing the branches of the tree next to him sway, he knew that was Huo Feng’s signal that he’d reached the top and was steady.

Huo Feng brushed aside the pine needles blocking his view, and once he could see clearly, he replied, “Not bad, not great—probably twenty or thirty. How about you?”

“About the same as you—not too many, not too few.”

Thinking back to last year, when he’d harvested over fifty pinecones from the very first tree he climbed, this year’s start didn’t look promising.

But regardless, they were here now, and even if there were only one or two, they had to take them.

The two used long wooden poles to knock the pinecones down, letting them fall from the treetops. The few people waiting below hurriedly bent down to pick them up.

Yan Qi, however, had to keep glancing up nervously from time to time, holding his breath for Huo Ling, who was several zhang above the ground.