The next morning, Xu Duoyan woke up a bit late.
When he opened his eyes, the inner room was already bright.
He hurried out of bed to wash up.
As he stepped out, he heard the sound of bamboo cracking in the stove.
Xu Duoyan walked over and saw a figure crouched by the stove, resting his face in his hands, staring blankly at the flames.
He glanced at the clay pot on the stove — the rice inside had already turned soft and white.
Who knows when the person got up to start cooking?
Feeling both guilty and surprised, Xu Duoyan approached: “You made breakfast already?”
Cao Wen, hearing footsteps, lifted his head.
He gave Xu Duoyan a quick glance and responded with a flat “Mm.”
Then he looked back at the stove, his expression icy cold.
Xu Duoyan didn’t press.
In the countryside, people rarely ate early unless it was something important.
Wealthier families did eat three meals a day, though.
Back when he worked in the Qian family’s kitchen, he had to rise before dawn to help the cook prepare breakfast for the masters.
He never imagined one day he’d be doing the same for his own household.
Cao Wen stretched his neck a little, watching Xu Duoyan silently scoop cold water from the vat to wash his face, clearly not planning to engage further.
He took a deep breath.
She really hasn’t noticed I’m upset?!
Hmph!
Cao Wen, puffed up with frustration, shoved a pile of kindling into the stove.
Flames blazed up instantly with a loud roar.
“Did I hear a chicken in the courtyard?”
Xu Duoyan, splashing water on his face by the window, was just about to warn Cao Wen not to waste fuel in the hot summer, but the clucking of a chicken interrupted him.
He frowned.
They didn’t own chickens.
Why was the sound so clear?
After hearing it several times, he confirmed: there really was a chicken in the house.
Cao Wen, upon suddenly being spoken to, straightened his back, sprang up, and ran outside.
Moments later, he came back, holding a brown speckled hen with excitement: “Look at this hen — isn’t she great? I saw her laying an egg this morning when I went to buy eggs from a farmer. The auntie said she was heading to the market to sell it for rice and flour. I saw the eggs were big and round, so I just bought the whole hen.”
He handed the hen to Xu Duoyan: “Once she lays a few more, we can hatch chicks and raise them. Then we’ll have eggs to eat every morning!”
Xu Duoyan quickly took the hen, stunned.
It was a good bird.
He stroked its feathers — smooth and glossy.
Country folks liked keeping poultry.
They could sell them at market for money or slaughter them for holidays.
Raising poultry was also a sign of a stable, self-sufficient household.
Back when he and his mother settled in Tonggou, they had thought of raising chickens too, but his mother’s health was poor, and he wasn’t home often, so they gave up the idea.
“I weighed her — more than four jin (about 2 kg). The auntie needed cash and let her go for 70 wen. Good deal, right?”
Xu Duoyan nodded and set the still-warm hen down.
Then he warned: “I’m just worried if the landowner’s people see it, they’ll add it to the household register, and we’ll have to hand it over. Waste of money.”
“They’re just holding those two mu of land over us,”
Cao Wen replied.
“If it comes to it, I’ll just stop renting from them next year. Living off the mountains is still better than serving a landlord.”
Xu Duoyan didn’t reply, but he silently agreed.
Cao Wen, now in a completely different mood, pulled the boiled eggs out of the pot and poured the porridge into a basin.
“Let’s eat. After that, I’ll sell yesterday’s mountain goods in the market, then build a chicken coop.”
Xu Duoyan thought for a moment.
Since they had already visited the pharmacy once, the shopkeeper wouldn’t cheat them.
He had no channels to sell the wild greens anyway, so even if he went along, he couldn’t help hawk them.
No need for both of them to waste time at the market.
“You go to the market. I’ll build the chicken coop,” he said.
Cao Wen, holding the porridge, turned to look at Xu Duoyan with his bowl and chopsticks: “You’re not coming with me?”
Xu Duoyan shook his head: “I’ll weed the fields and tidy the house.”
Cao Wen seemed slightly disappointed, but said,
“Alright then. Anything you want me to buy for you?”
“Nothing.”
Cao Wen pressed his lips together.
Xu Duoyan noticed he seemed a little down and was confused.
“Well…maybe bring back some salt. We’re running low.”
Cao Wen’s eyes lit up again: “Sure! That pickled dish yesterday tasted great. I’ll buy more so we can make some ourselves!”
Xu Duoyan smiled and nodded.
After breakfast, Xu Duoyan picked out some wild vegetables and herbs to keep.
They had worked hard gathering them, so they might as well eat some.
The herbs would be useful eventually, so he dried them for storage.
By the time he finished, the sun had risen.
Xu Duoyan placed a straw hat in the basket, just in case Cao Wen came home at noon and needed sun protection.
Cao Wen, while Xu Duoyan wasn’t looking, tucked the hat into his arms and left cheerfully for the market with the basket.
Having made many trips to and from the mountains lately, Cao Wen was now very familiar with the road to the market.
He didn’t dawdle and headed straight to the Anping Pharmacy.
It was early and business hadn’t picked up yet.
The shopkeeper smiled upon seeing Cao Wen and came to the door to ask what goods he brought.
This time, he had fewer types of herbs, but in larger quantities, which made pricing easier.
Danshen sold for 12 wen per qian (unit), while the lighter honeysuckle sold for more — 27 wen per qian.
He had four bundles of Danshen weighing 10 jin total, and just over 2 jin of honeysuckle.
Altogether, it came to 1,750 wen.
Though Danshen wasn’t as valuable as some herbs like angelica or astragalus, it was heavy, so the total payout was actually better than last time.
There were also small bits of mugwort, balloonflower root, and motherwort, but those weren’t worth much, so Xu Duoyan kept them at home.
The shopkeeper, pleased with the wild herbs, paid quickly and generously.
Seeing that Cao Wen’s hand was injured, he even gave him some free anti-inflammatory medicine and gauze, telling him to come back with more next time.
Cao Wen happily agreed.
Out of courtesy, he gave the shopkeeper a bundle of fresh bracken fern.
Both were pleased with the exchange.
Leaving the pharmacy, Cao Wen’s basket was much lighter.
He decided to sell the wild vegetables next before the sun climbed too high.
Though he’d been turned away several times before by restaurants, he still tried again.
Bulk sales to restaurants weren’t as lucrative as street vending by weight, but at least it was faster and easier than shouting on the streets.
It wasn’t that early anymore, so most restaurants had already bought their day’s supply from the vegetable market.
But since he was selling mountain goods — rare greens not always available at the market — there was still a chance even those who had stocked up might be interested…
“They’re wild vegetables, do you take them?”
Cao Wen poked half his head into the back kitchen of a restaurant, calling out.
“Manager, someone’s here selling wild vegetables—do you want any?”
A kitchen worker shouted toward the front hall, and shortly after, a man wiping his hands came out and asked,
“What do you have?”
Seeing a chance, Cao Wen quickly set down his basket.
“Take a look — I’ve got bracken and some other mixed greens.”
“These brackens were picked just yesterday. Very fresh, and I didn’t leave any old or woody stems.”
The man grabbed a handful and examined them.
Seeing they were already bundled and checking the quality of the middles, he asked: “How much are you selling them for?”
“Just pay the market price,”
Cao Wen replied.
The man craned his neck to glance into Cao Wen’s basket again.
“You’ve got quite a bit here. Must be thirty jin or so. I’ll buy the lot at four wen per jin.”
Street price was usually around six wen per jin.
Cao Wen did the math — the price was a bit low, but calling out on the street wouldn’t guarantee he’d sell it all.
Once the afternoon sun hit, the bracken wouldn’t stay fresh.
Better to sell it all at once and be done with it.
“What about these other greens? They’re tender and fresh too.”
“Too mixed — not easy to cook into dishes in a restaurant.”
“All right then, I’ll just sell you the bracken.”
Bracken is dense and heavy — the weighing showed it was 35 jin in total, earning him 140 wen.
Cao Wen counted the coins as he left, then took note of the name on the restaurant’s signboard: “Juyuan Restaurant,” written in large, ornate characters.
He made a mental note to come back here first the next time he had wild vegetables to sell.
The remaining 3 to 5 jin of assorted greens still in the basket would have to be hawked on the street.
Instead of going to the main market area, Cao Wen headed to a neighborhood in town filled with well-kept, impressive houses.
Even without hearing it from others, one could tell by the architecture that these were the homes of the town’s wealthier residents — people with money to spend.
As soon as Cao Wen stepped into the lane, he noticed the road was twice as wide as ordinary ones and paved with bricks — likely to accommodate carriages.
He didn’t shout at the grand front doors with their stone lion statues.
Those led to the main halls, where no one bothered with daily meals.
Instead, he called out toward the smaller side doors, which were usually near the kitchens.
Sure enough, his instincts paid off.
After only a couple of calls, a maid opened the door.
“You there—what kind of mountain goods are you selling?”
Cao Wen quickly walked over and tilted his basket for her to see.
The maid rummaged through it, checking carefully, and asked,
“When were these picked? And how much are you asking?”
“Picked just yesterday afternoon. All from the mountains. Lots of people already bought some — not much left. Whatever price you think is fair, miss,” he said easily.
The maid was a bit surprised at how agreeable he was, and let go of her servant’s pride.
“It’s been hot and dry lately. My lady hasn’t had much of an appetite. She’s tired of the same old market vegetables. These wild greens are just what she needs for a change.”
“I see you’ve picked mostly the tender centers, barely trimmed off the tops — nice and fresh. I’ll give you twenty wen for the lot. That way you don’t have to keep shouting under the hot sun.”
Cao Wen: “That sounds perfect.”