Emerging from the Baxing District onto the main thoroughfare, the broad avenue stretched out before them, some twenty or thirty feet wide. No shopfronts lined the roadside, nor were there any stalls set up. Only a variety of vehicles passed by—horse-drawn carriages, oxcarts, mule carts, or simple one-wheeled and two-wheeled carts pushed by common folk delivering goods. There were also villagers dressed in plain clothes, hurrying along with baskets balanced on their shoulders or backpacks strapped to their backs.

They were either heading to familiar neighborhoods to set up stalls and hawk their wares, or bound for the eastern or western markets—mostly the former.

To sell goods in the eastern or western markets, occupying a roadside spot cost five wen; in the neighborhood streets, it was only three. Villagers from outside Fengyuan City carrying baskets into town to sell their own goods usually found it more economical to set up in the neighborhoods.

Tang Xianling remembered the road to the West Market. Over the past twenty years, running errands there for the family had felt like play to Wu-ger and his sisters.

It took a little over half an hour to reach the West Market from the broad main road, while the East Market lay much farther.

For those weary of walking, one could actually take a ‘taxi’. Tang Xianling observed the mule carts with their dark blue canvas canopies passing by on the road. Red cloth streamers hung from the front of these carts, adorned with large bells—these were the ‘taxis’ of the time.

They stopped at a wave, and one could haggle over the fare with the driver. These carriages typically delivered passengers to the main intersections of each district, not entering the residential quarters themselves. The fare was inexpensive—three or four wen coins—depending on the distance and whether goods were being transported.

Tang Xianling clutched the few dozen copper coins Jiang Yun had given him, reluctant to spend them. He relied on his own two feet to walk to the West Market. The journey was full of novelty; everything he saw held interest. The warm spring sunshine felt wonderfully comfortable on his skin.

Before he reached it, the main street ahead was already bustling with noise and growing crowds.

Tang Xianling quickened his pace. At the West Market entrance, the street was about as wide as the main thoroughfares of the wards, but lined entirely with shops. The constant clamor of vendors hawking their wares, the clatter of peddlers carrying goods, created a ceaseless, lively hubbub.

The West Market comprised several streets, all bustling with commerce.

Tang Xianling walked deeper in. Arriving early, he found eateries still serving breakfast—rich, savory aromas of meat mingled with the scent of freshly baked sesame cakes. The shopfronts here were substantial; even the smallest was comparable to the two large shops his Father Tang proudly owned.

Two-story taverns stood alongside large inns with courtyard residences.

Shops selling cosmetics, silk fabrics, and jewelry lined the streets, alongside stalls displaying ‘Western-style decorative items. Tang Xianling stared in amazement. If his eyes didn’t deceive him, wasn’t that a little angel holding a bow and arrow on the display shelf of the treasure cabinet?

“Young master, does that ornament catch your eye?” The shop assistant smiled warmly, reaching out to hand it over without a word. “You have excellent taste. This is a replica brought back by a merchant fleet twenty years ago during the Wending era. They say this little figure represents a minor deity from a distant land, specifically blessing marriages.”

Tang Xianling: …

Cupid? He knew that one.

His eyebrows twitched slightly as he chuckled along with the shop assistant. “A foreign deity? One that can reach so far, crossing oceans to bless our Rong Dynasty’s marriages?”

The clerk paused for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Young master, you’re quite the joker. I couldn’t possibly know that!”

“The doll is adorable, but alas, I have no money. Otherwise, I’d buy it to try. If it proves effective, I’ll return to your shop bearing a silk banner to spread the word!” Tang Xianling said with a beaming smile.

Early in the morning, the shop was quiet. As the clerk chatted with the young man, the shopkeeper nearby overheard. He’d been sorting goods but couldn’t help but chuckle at the exchange. The clerk laughed too, sweetly replying, “That’s wonderful! I’ll be waiting right here for you to come back when fortune smiles upon you.”

Tang Xianling chuckled, “No problem, no problem.”

As they chatted, Tang Xianling brought up the merchant fleet departing twenty years ago during the Wending era—he’d overheard the clerk mention it casually and wanted to learn more. Exchanging pleasantries felt more natural than asking outright.

It seemed this fleet was a major event in the Rong Dynasty.

As they chatted, customers began entering the shop. Not wanting to disturb the business, Tang Xianling smiled and took his leave. The shop assistant saw him out with a warm smile, saying, “Take your time, sir.”

Stepping outside the shop, Tang Xianling reflected that both the clerk and the proprietor had been warm and courteous, showing not the slightest hint of disdain for his lack of funds. The moment he entered, the clerk had taken down an ornament he’d glanced at, inviting him to examine it closely.

It was precisely this hospitality that had prompted Tang Xianling to linger and chat.

Twenty years ago, a merchant fleet returned from overseas, bringing specialties from foreign lands—gold and silver treasures, luxury goods from various small nations, paintings, and more. But the most vital, most essential to daily life, were the seeds.

Potatoes and peanuts.

Eight years later, the people of Fengyuan City now enjoyed potato and peanut dishes on their daily tables.

Three years ago, the merchant caravan set sail again, rumored to be even larger this time.

Tang Xianling was overcome with excitement: “I dream of tasting chili peppers in my lifetime!”

The more he thought about it, the more hopeful he felt.

Tang Xianling bought nothing, merely strolling through the West Market to gauge prices. The upper echelons of the Rong Dynasty government prioritized public welfare—grain remained stably affordable, salt wasn’t overly expensive, and labor costs were low. Beyond basic sustenance, however, anything beyond the ordinary—be it aesthetics, gourmet fare, or premium services—came at a steep price.

Take delivery services: a two-wheeled cart loaded with goods, unloading and transporting them earned five or six wen per trip.

Barbering, shaving, and ear cleaning were slightly pricier.

At herbal clinics and doctors’ practices, consultations started at half a tael, with a minimum charge of fifty wen.

No wonder Father Tang had been bedridden for months, casting a gloom over the household. Eating and drinking in town cost money, and there were fees for specialized services like night soot, kitchen waste, and garbage collection. Not to mention, as a food vendor, the Tang family had to pay taxes.

It all came down to money.

Father Tang had paid this year’s business tax, but the shop remained shuttered. It was already April, and not a single coin had entered the household. Only expenses piled up. Jiang Yun fretted over how they would manage next year, her expression growing increasingly bitter.

After wandering around, Tang Xianling had some ideas forming in his mind. Seeing the sky darken, he headed home. He still needed to cook dinner and prepare ingredients. The family shop definitely had to be put to use—idle space didn’t make money. Yesterday, he’d taken a look: the shop had a stove for simmering mutton soup, iron pots, a cooking hearth, and some tables and chairs.

He planned to clean up the stove and sell breakfast. At home, it was just him and Jiang Yun. Father Tang was bedridden, waking only to grumble and demand this and that, requiring Jiang Yun’s constant care. Most importantly, he had little capital to spare.

The shop couldn’t be too big.

On the way, he counted the forty-three copper coins Jiang Yun had given him.

—He’d have to ask Father Tang for more money. The thought flickered in Tang Xianling’s mind, but the memory of his father’s usual routine—handing over a few coins while grumbling—quickly extinguished it. Forget it. He’d sell for a day, earn a little, then buy supplies. Slow and steady.

Near the workshop entrance, a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old boy with a large backpack stood meekly, his expression timid. He told the workshop official, “I’m waiting for someone… for my older brother. I’m not selling goods here, Your Honor.”

“Good boy, you know better. No haphazardly blocking the streets with stalls. If you want to set up, you must pay at the designated spot.”

“No, no, sir, I wouldn’t dare.”

After the official finished scolding him, seeing that the boy knew his place, he nodded and continued patrolling with his companions.

Tang Xianling followed the clerks at a distance. Noticing the youth carrying a heavy basket of vibrant green vegetables on his back, he asked, “What kind of greens are these?”

“Wild greens from the fields—shepherd’s purse and wild chard.”

The youth answered, his shoulders slumping slightly as he glanced at the clerks’ retreating backs. Tang Xianling understood immediately. “I won’t buy here,” he said. “If your price is right, we’ll trade outside the district gate.”

That way, he’d avoid paying the ‘street vendor fee’.

The youth brightened. He’d been about to quote a price, but his honest fear of the district officers made him hesitate. Instead, he just looked at the customer with sparkling eyes. Tang Xianling smiled. “Let’s talk outside. Are you waiting for your elder brother? How much longer until he arrives? Surely you can tell me that much.“

”He’s not really my elder brother. He’s a hunter from our village. I was just afraid to say anything before.“ Seeing the market official walk far enough that his back was no longer visible, the youth gained courage. ”I don’t know how long. Probably a while. He went to deliver goods to the eatery.”

Tang Xianling waited with the boy for a while. During their casual chat, he learned the boy’s village was quite far away—it took nearly half a day to walk to Fengyuan City. He set out before dawn, afraid to travel alone. He had asked the hunter in advance and learned the hunter was heading into town, so he tagged along for courage.

He questioned the boy, who spilled everything—his family size, names, acres of land, harvests—but the moment the hunter was mentioned, Gouwa’s face twisted with fear. He clamped his mouth shut, refusing to say another word.

Tang Xianling quickly realized it wasn’t that the hunter bullied Gouwa. Likely, the hunter’s fierce, demon-like appearance and gruff demeanor frightened the boy. Yet, the hunter had agreed to let Gouwa accompany him and even instructed the boy to wait here until he returned to sell the wild vegetables. This showed the hunter was actually a kind-hearted soul beneath his intimidating exterior.

Otherwise, if he were truly cold and ruthless, would he have cared about the safety of a fellow villager?

Gouwa chattered on about his family, worried the customer would wait too long and not buy his greens. His mouth and throat grew dry from talking. After waiting a long while, he had nothing left to say. Glancing around, his face lit up when he spotted someone approaching. Forgetting his fear, he shouted, “Brother Tieniu!”

“Customer, Brother Tieniu is here.”

Tang Xianling had promised Jiang Yun he’d be home for lunch before noon. It was getting late, and he was beginning to wonder if the boy had lost his mind. He could have gone ahead and made the deal with Gouwa at the market entrance. But when he heard Gouwa call out “Brother Tieniu,” he instinctively looked in the direction the boy was pointing.

It was nearly noon at the West Market, bustling with people and the clamor of voices, a constant flow of passersby.

Tang Xianling spotted Tieniu immediately. He was unexpectedly young, not at all the intimidating, fierce-looking figure he’d imagined, but rather quite handsome.

By his estimation, Tieniu stood between 185 and 188 centimeters tall. His face looked very young, only seventeen or eighteen, with his hair slicked back to reveal a smooth, full forehead. He had sharp eyebrows, starry eyes, and a straight nose. Dressed in coarse peasant cloth, he wore a leather strap crisscrossing from his shoulders to his waist. Probably because it was too cold early in the morning, this outfit gave off a hint of wildness.

His skin wasn’t particularly fair, tanned a light wheat color from traversing dense forests and mountain fields. His clothes had a mandarin collar, slightly open at the neck to reveal his throat and collarbone…

His shoulders were lean yet strong, his waist narrow, and he carried a bamboo basket on his back.

He looked full of vitality, yet carried an air of quiet steadiness.

Tang Xianling: …What a handsome fellow.

He looked at the other, and the other looked at him, their gazes meeting mid-air.

Tang Xianling found himself inexplicably recalling the Cupid figurine he’d seen that morning while browsing the West Market. The thought made his face flush slightly. Pfft, pfft, pfft—why was he getting flustered like some lovesick fool?

“Brother Tieniu, wait for me! This customer—” Gouwa hurriedly began introducing him.

Tang Xianling withdrew his gaze, silently reassuring himself: He loves food, he’s a decent man, not some rogue. Then he said properly, “My name is Tang Xianling. I’d like to buy some wild vegetables from Gouwa. Not for trade in the West Market.”

“Right, right! Brother Tieniu, hold on a sec!” Gouwa perked up again. “I’ll sell everything today. I can head back to the village tonight—no need to camp out or rush through the dark.”

The hunter nodded. “Let’s go then.”

Leaving the West Market, Tang Xianling haggled with Gouwa over the price. Gouwa’s basket was full, but wild greens weren’t expensive to begin with. Plus, Gouwa felt he’d waited a long time and saved on stall fees, so he quoted a fair price—three wen less than the market rate.

This whole basket of greens for thirty wen.

Tang Xianling was decisive, paying promptly.

“I live in Baxing District, which happens to be on the way from the city gate. I’ll drop the vegetables off at my place to free up your basket. You two wait for me at the lane entrance,” Tang Xianling said.

Gouwa happily counted the coins, nodding his head in agreement with the customer.

Tang Xianling smiled, but the smile froze on his face the moment he lifted the basket with one hand—he couldn’t lift it!

Refusing to believe it, he tried again.

Gouwa was only thirteen and could easily carry the wicker basket for half a day. He was twenty-one—surely he wasn’t weaker than a child!

Tang Xianling gritted his teeth and strained—the basket slipped, then lifted. Following the large hand gripping the basket, he saw it belonged to the hunter Tieniu. Big, long, strong, slightly rough yet undeniably handsome.

“Let me.”

Tang Xianling immediately smiled, stepping back. He stopped arguing and doubting the superstition. “Thank you, Tieniu. You’re incredibly strong.”

Hehe, he seemed to be flirting.

Something occurred to him.

Tang Xianling straightened his expression. “Have you married and taken a wife yet?”

People get married young these days. If he had a wife, he couldn’t be flirting with people like this.

Gouwa tucked the money away and said cheerfully, “Not yet.”

Tieniu shot Gouwa a look. Gouwa immediately clamped his mouth shut. He’d been so thrilled about the money he’d forgotten how formidable Brother Tieniu was. Now he trailed obediently behind, not daring to utter another word.

Tang Xianling chuckled.

“Well then, my late husband is still in mourning—” Tang Xianling waved his hand when Tieniu stopped to look at him. “He was a rotten man. Good riddance! I’d love to set off some firecrackers to blow away the bad luck, but I’m broke for fireworks right now. Once I have money, I’ll throw a feast and announce to the world that Wu-ger has lost his husband.”

Gouwa listened wide-eyed from behind. He’d never seen a husband like this—overjoyed that his man had died. He stole a glance at Tang Fulang. Whatever came out of his mouth was fascinating, never the least bit annoying.

On the way there, Tang Xianling had been bored traveling alone. On the return trip, though no one spoke, he kept chatting away like a stand-up comedian. Before he knew it, the journey felt surprisingly swift. Upon reaching Baxing District, Tieniu, who had been silent the entire way, finally spoke up, asking where he lived so he could escort him home.

“That would be incredibly kind of you. I could tell right away that Tieniu is a big-hearted soul beneath that gruff exterior,” Tang Xianling said cheerfully, leading the way.

Tieniu just grunted in response.

Arriving at the Tang family shop, Tang Xianling knocked. Soon, Jiang Yun opened the door. Seeing the large amount of wild greens he’d bought, she was about to say something, but seeing the strangers present, she held her tongue.

“We’ve been walking all this way. Come in for a glass of water. Thank you both,” Tang Xianling invited them to sit inside the shop.

Only then did Jiang Yun say, “I’ll get some water.”

Tang Xianling chattered nonstop all the way home. When he emptied the basket of wild greens, Gouwa claimed it weighed forty pounds. Dumped onto the ground, it looked like a small mountain—no less than he’d said. No wonder he’d struggled to lift it earlier.

The greens were well-prepared, free of dirt.

“I’ll take these greens too. No rush—in five or six days, if you’re delivering to town again, bring them to my place. I’ll pay today’s price.”

After drinking water and thanking him, Gouwa cheerfully declared he’d return in six days, backpack slung over his shoulder.

Tang Xianling saw them to the door. Tieniu stood there for a moment before suddenly turning. ” My surname is Huangfu—“

”Huangfu Tieniu?!“ Tang Xianling was startled, unable to suppress a smile that spread across his face. He quickly composed himself and praised earnestly, ”It’s quite a nice and unique name.”

Huangfu Chen swallowed the words he had been about to say.

Tang Xianling found Huangfu Tieniu’s name amusing.