It was the Mid-Autumn Festival, the fifteenth day of the month, and the temple fair coincided with the market day. The street in front of the temple had never been so crowded. The oxcart was stuck at the street corner and didn’t move for quite some time.

Huo Ying sat in Huo Feng’s lap, looking around. Spotting an old man selling candied hawthorn on a stick, she licked her lips and said, “Dad, can I have some candied hawthorn today?” 

“If you’re a good girl and don’t run off, I’ll buy you some.”

“Then I definitely won’t run off!”

Huo Ling, sitting up front driving the cart, smiled at her words.

“If you don’t run off, your uncle will buy you a big meat bun.”

Huo Ying shook her head. “I don’t like big meat buns anymore. They’re not as good as the meat buns Auntie makes.”

Yan Qi smiled warmly, cupping her cheeks and gently rubbing them. “Our Yingzi hasn’t even had a sugar-coated hawthorn yet, but her little mouth is already as sweet as if she had.”

Huo Ying lifted her head proudly.

“Why are you guys so late today? The streets are packed. If I hadn’t been keeping an eye on things for you, someone else would’ve snatched up this spot.” When the oxcart arrived, the man selling cooking brushes stamped his feet as he approached and said, “Without your stove nearby, I’d have frozen to death setting up my stall.” 

“We brought the kid along today, so we were a bit late.”

Huo Ling thanked him. The man had eaten plenty of the Huo family’s buns, and since he had no business to attend to at the moment, he pitched in to help carry the goods.

Upon learning that Huo Ling and his group planned to hand out buns that day, he pointed toward the City God Temple and said, “They’re giving out porridge over there today, so a lot of beggars have gone there. Just give a shout, and I guarantee they’ll all come.”

Huo Feng glanced in that direction and said to Huo Ling, “I can’t help but feel there are more beggars on the streets this year.”

Huo Ling glanced at Yan Qi, who was rummaging in his pocket for a flint, and whispered, “They’re refugees. Not everyone’s been lucky.” Huo Feng realized he’d said the wrong thing and lightly tapped his lips.

The two brothers exchanged a brief glance, then went their separate ways, pretending nothing had happened. Yan Qi found the flint but couldn’t get it to strike no matter what, so he called out to Huo Ling. “Take a look at this flint. What’s wrong with it?”

Seeing that Yan Qi’s hands had turned red from the cold, Huo Ling took the flint and said, “It’s too cold out here; your hands aren’t strong enough.” Huo Ling, however, produced sparks in no time, and Yan Qi quickly grabbed some dry grass to toss into the stove.

Once the bun stall was set up, Huo Feng and Huo Ling began shouting to attract customers—one calling out, “Buns for the Mid-Autumn Festival!” and the other, “Free buns on Temple Street!”—drawing quite a crowd.

The first person to ask about the free buns was an elderly woman with gray hair. Huo Ling noticed she was still wearing thin cloth shoes at this time of year, and the hem of her old cotton coat fluttered in the breeze—a sign that the cotton padding inside had nearly all fallen out. He realized life must indeed be hard for her.

“Are the buns here really free?”

Huo Ling nodded. “Today is the fifteenth day of the tenth month. The buns are free of charge. Everyone, young and old alike, can receive one vegetarian bun.”

Getting a bun here and a bowl of porridge at the City God Temple—for those who couldn’t even afford a pot of rice at home, that was a decent meal. Beyond the Great Wall, the weather was bitterly cold, and families without stored grain would have a very hard time getting through the winter.

He had assumed the old woman had come alone, but after asking her a few questions, she left. A short while later, she returned with a pair of small children, not much older than Huo Ying, their cheeks bright red from the cold, their sleeves and pant legs all too short.

“Can you even take in children this old? These are my grandson and granddaughter.” 

“Yes.”

Huo Ling agreed. Seeing this, Yan Qi wrapped up three buns and cautioned, “They’re a bit hot.”   

“Better that way—the heat will warm them up.”

Seeing that they’d actually been given the buns—still warm and greasy—the three grandparent and grandchildren thanked them repeatedly.

“You are kind-hearted people; may you all live to be a hundred years old.”

Now that he’d made a start, the rest was easy.

Those who came to collect the buns included street urchins, orphaned boys and girls who couldn’t afford a meal, and a blind old man begging while playing the erhu…

Everyone knew this charity was meant for the poor and hungry during the winter; those who had money in their pockets and could afford a meal didn’t have the nerve to come forward and ask.

Or even if they were inclined to, they lacked the nerve.

The two men, Huo Ling and Huo Feng, stood guard at the stall; one glance was enough to tell they were from the countryside, accustomed to manual labor.

Over at the City God Temple, however, the porridge distribution wasn’t just for relief—it was to cultivate good karma. Anyone could go and get a bowl.

Seeing that Huo Ling and Yan Qi couldn’t leave, Huo Feng left Huo Ying behind and took a large bowl he’d brought from home to get a serving. The four of them each took a few sips, sharing it among themselves.

The porridge at the temple had been simmered for a long time; the rice and beans were soft and sticky, and it had a pleasant aroma.

Aside from the buns given away as alms, some people had come to the fair and temple festival specifically to seek out their stall and buy stuffed buns. Upon hearing that both meat and vegetarian options were a penny cheaper today, they all felt they’d gotten a bargain.

“Are the buns you’re giving out different from the ones you sell?”

“Those are strictly vegetarian—no eggs—but we’ve added a bit more of the other ingredients.”

Huo Ling explained to the customer, while Yan Qi handed over four buns and he collected twenty-two cash.

“Come back after you’ve finished eating.”

“I’ve been here several times already. Whenever I walk this way, it feels like something’s missing if I don’t buy a couple.”

The man raised his hand. “Your business is getting better and better. Just don’t let the taste change as you keep making them.”

Huo Ling laughed. “It won’t come to that. My husband spent a great deal of time perfecting the recipe for these buns—if it were any different, it just wouldn’t be the same.” The man let out a “Whoa.” 

“So it’s a secret recipe?”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but it’s definitely a recipe only our family can pull off.”

“Alright, as long as they keep tasting like this, I’ll keep coming back.”

After the man left, Yan Qi glanced at Huo Ling, who gave him a subtle raised eyebrow.

The ger pursed his lips and smiled faintly. He guessed that Huo Ling had said that on purpose, to highlight how unique his buns were. Even though they only cost a few coins, if he made them sound a bit mysterious, more people would buy them out of curiosity.

Besides, they weren’t the type to rely solely on gimmicks; at the very least, the buns were genuinely delicious.

If they sold them for a few more years, surely others would copy seven or eight out of ten of their techniques—and by then, it might truly deserve to be called a secret recipe.

An hour passed, and all one hundred of the complimentary buns were gone. Seeing the disappointed expressions of those who arrived late, Yan Qi felt a pang of regret.

“I thought a hundred would be plenty, but now it feels like too few.”

“As long as we’ve shown our goodwill, that’s what matters. We can come back again next time there’s a festival.”

Huo Ling pointed to the street and said, “Apart from the City God Temple and our family, most of the restaurants, eateries, and teahouses on this street today will be doing charitable deeds—offering a bite to eat or a cup of hot tea. Those who come won’t leave with empty stomachs.”

Thinking of this, Yan Qi felt much better.

They weren’t a wealthy or noble family; what they could do was indeed limited. All they sought was to live with a clear conscience.

“Here, have a sugar-coated hawthorn!”

Once the busiest part of the day had passed, Huo Feng took his daughter to wander around the temple fair. When they returned, Huo Ying was munching on a string of candied hawthorn berries, and Huo Feng was holding two more strings.

“These are for the two of you.”

Huo Ling picked out a larger skewer for Yan Qi, kept one for herself, and asked Huo Feng before taking a bite, “Have you had any yet?”

Huo Feng shook his head. “I’m not eating any. You two have them.”

“I can’t eat much of this kind of sweet stuff either. Let’s just split this one between the two of us.”

It’s true that brothers understand each other best. Huo Ling knew Huo Feng wasn’t averse to eating it; rather, as a father, he felt embarrassed to eat it in public.

When they were kids, their family had never wanted for food or clothing. Every time they went into town, they’d manage to scrape together enough for two skewers to try something new. Back then, Huo Feng had never held back, and he’d always egged Huo Ling on to ask their parents for money.

Sure enough, as soon as he finished speaking, Huo Feng reluctantly agreed, “Then you eat first. Give me whatever’s left.” Huo Ling smiled and took a bite of the top one.

With two crisp “crunch” sounds, the sugar coating gave way to the cool, refreshing red hawthorn inside. If it weren’t for bringing the kids out for the holiday, no one would have thought to buy this kind of treat meant to appease children.

Yan Qi had long forgotten what candied hawthorn tasted like. Today, he was given a skewer—as beautiful as the red lanterns hung during the New Year—and he stared at it for a while before he could bring himself to take a bite.

“Whoa, it’s so cold.”

When he took a bite, he expected just sugar-coated hawthorn, but to his surprise, the fruit inside had frozen into a slushy texture. It had lost all its tartness and tasted a bit like chewing on sweet-and-sour snowflakes.

“I forgot to tell you: bite into it, then let it sit in your mouth until it warms up before chewing. Otherwise, it’ll be so cold it’ll give you a toothache.”

Seeing Yan Qi’s expression, Huo Ling knew he’d bitten into a “chunk of ice.”

Huo Feng chuckled, “Out in the regions beyond the Great Wall, candied hawthorn is just like frozen pears—it’s only sold in winter, and that’s exactly the flavor we’re after.” 

“Even though winters are long out there, it’s really quite interesting.”

When he got to the second one, Yan Qi first licked the sugar coating, then imitated Huo Ling by holding the entire hawthorn in his mouth, causing his cheeks to puff out. Huo Ling watched this and couldn’t resist gently poking him with a finger.

Yan Qi’s eyes widened, then he silently used his tongue to push the hawthorn to the other side of his mouth. Huo Ling was still smiling gently.

Not only had Huo Ling deliberately set aside a few for Huo Feng, but Huo Ying hadn’t even finished her own string—every single one ended up in Huo Feng’s mouth.

By the time the last buns were sold, all the bowls were empty. Huo Ling and Huo Feng worked together to load the iron pot, stove, and other items back onto the oxcart, and finally took down the cloth banner.

“Leaving already?”

A nearby vendor struck up a conversation with them.

“We’re off. We still need to pay our respects at the temple.”

“The food business is the best—you don’t get cold, and on days like this, things sell fast. Unlike us, who have to stick around until the afternoon.”

After a few brief words, the spot where they had been selling was already empty.

A woman selling sticky bean buns quickly took the spot and began hawking her wares before she’d even steadied herself.

“Hot sticky bean buns—no stick, no charge—”

Huo Feng glanced back and said, “Quite a few people have their eyes on this prime spot.” Huo Ling replied calmly, “We’re not selling anymore. It’s fine to let someone else have it.”

Leaving the oxcart with the man who watched over vehicles in front of the temple, he immediately asked for five cash. Yan Qi said, “We set up our stall here every day and see you all the time. You’ve always charged three wen before—why the price hike today?”

Seeing he couldn’t get away with it, the man charged them only three coins. But as soon as he turned away, he asked the others for five coins; if someone paid him, he’d make a profit, and even at the original price, he wouldn’t lose out.

In any case, with no need to worry about the oxcart anymore, the three adults felt a weight lifted from their shoulders as they joined the stream of people pouring into the City God Temple.

The temple was filled with swirling blue smoke. After paying their respects to the City God and the City Goddess, they bought incense, candles, and joss paper. A few Taoist priests took down the names and birthdates of their parents from both families and performed a ritual, chanting incantations.

Meanwhile, Yan Qi bought some joss paper on his own, went around to the back of the hall, and burned it in the large incense burner.

“Father and Mother, I’m now making a living selling buns. I’m sending you a little extra down here. If it’s not enough, just let me know in a dream.”

He whispered, “If all goes well, I’ll be able to build a grave for you in the village next year. I’ve had someone bring soil from our hometown, and I’ll bury it with you then. That way, you won’t be wandering spirits. When the time comes, you can be at peace and be reborn into a good family where you won’t go hungry.”

Huo Ling stayed with him. After the joss paper was burned, he added some paper ingots—also bought at the City God Temple.

“When we erect the grave next year, let’s buy some paper offerings to send down to Mom and Dad—little boys and girls, a house, cattle, and horses—we’ll prepare it all so they can enjoy the blessings of their son and son-in-law down there.”

Yan Qi raised his hand to wipe the corners of his eyes and nodded gently.

After the fifteenth day of the tenth month, business was brisk for two days in a row. The name “Temple Street buns” had spread far and wide, proving that the free samples and hand-sewn banners had not been in vain.

Over the next few days, their money pouch filled up nicely. The couple lit a lamp at night to count their earnings and discovered they could sell at least a hundred buns every single day—without exception—proving that this business was quite stable.

“Our income for the snow season is pretty much secured.”

Huo Ling quickly ran the numbers in his head. The snow season lasts five months; setting aside the days when it actually snows, that leaves about four months. Then there’s the period from the first to the fifteenth day of the first lunar month, when almost all the shops on the street are closed, and no one does business—so let’s count that as three and a half months.

Three and a half months—over a hundred days. Selling a hundred buns a day, half meat and half vegetarian, would yield a net profit of about 150 cash per day, or four and a half taels a month. Just from selling buns during the entire snow season, they could pocket at least fifteen taels of silver.

A quick calculation makes it clear why there’s never a shortage of food vendors on the streets—when done right, this trade brings in money quite quickly.

They strung the copper coins on the table into strings and put them away, leaving only about five hundred cash in loose change out. After putting the money box back in place, the two of them discussed the matter.

Realizing it had been a while since they’d gone into the mountains, and that Dager and Huangyae were getting restless at home, plus the fact that Manager Cheng had previously asked Huo Ling to help him find some black oil mushrooms, they decided to head into the mountains after using up the twenty catties of meat they’d bought yesterday, and come back down in four or five days.