Kang He followed Fan Jing toward the county.
He knew they were heading to the county, so he carried a bundle when they set out.
On the way, seeing Fan Jing glance at his bundle, Kang He opened it to show him a set of clothes and cloth boots inside.
These were the clothes he wore when he came, made by the Kang family.
Their son, raised with care, was now to become part of another family, so they had prepared this last set of decent attire for him.
Kang He also gestured with two copper coins.
He planned to take the fine cloth clothes to a fabric shop, either to sell or trade, to prepare a proper gift for the Fan family.
The new outfit was comfortable and splendid, but impractical for village life.
It could be worn once or twice for outings, but otherwise, it would just sit in a chest.
Clothes left unworn were a pity.
But wearing them for work would soil or damage them, which would be heartbreaking.
So, it was better to trade them for something useful now.
Fan Jing roughly understood his intention.
The items belonged to Kang He, and how he chose to handle them was his decision, so Fan Jing said little.
Seeing Fan Jing didn’t pry, Kang He walked on with his basket, but he couldn’t stay idle.
Pointing to a distant village, he asked Fan Jing what place it was.
“Chuanhe Township.”
Hearing this, Kang He tried to repeat, “…Chuan…he Township?”
Fan Jing, hearing Kang He’s slightly clumsy tone, glanced at him.
Seeing his earnest dark eyes, he nodded in confirmation.
Kang He silently memorized it, then pointed at the cabbage, soybeans, and winter greens in the fields, asking more.
In that hour, he made the usually quiet Fan Jing speak more than he would in three days.
At the county, Fan Jing bought a bowl of tea soup for Kang He at a street stall.
Then they entered Wangpo Alley to sell mountain goods at Official Li’s specialty food shop.
It was said that Official Li, when young, loved hunting in the mountains.
After falling ill and becoming too frail to venture there, he still craved the taste of the wild.
He often sent his household to buy pheasants, rabbits, or deer from hunters.
Over time, he collected many recipes and opened a food shop.
This shop was a regular buyer for Fan Jing, who usually brought his hunted goods here.
The shop’s purchasing clerk recognized him, inspected Fan Jing’s items, and offered a price.
Fan Jing found it fair, and the deal was made.
One colorful mountain pheasant, a pair of gray-backed birds, and a cleaned suckling pig wrapped in banana leaves sold for 250 coins.
The clerk weighed out two qian of silver and added 50 copper coins.
Fan Jing checked the payment, then tucked the silver into his waist pouch.
The clerk glanced but said nothing.
Fan Jing packed up, thanked the clerk, who didn’t respond and returned to the shop.
Fan Jing, with his empty basket, turned to see Kang He still gazing at the street signs, engrossed since entering the county.
He waved a hand in front of Kang He’s eyes, snapping him back.
“…Done?” Kang He asked.
“Yes,” Fan Jing replied, walking ahead.
Kang He hurried to follow, his eyes brimming with uncontainable joy.
No wonder he stared at the shop signs so intently.
Looking around, he saw shops of all sizes—brick and tile workshops, perfume stores, soap and water vendors, Qian’s dried fruit shop, Xiuyi Workshop’s honest pharmacy… all bustling with various trades.
And the liveliest part?
He could read most of the signs!
Not only that, the well-dressed people in round-collared robes and gold-patterned boots spoke words he mostly understood.
Kang He vaguely guessed that what he didn’t understand might be local dialect.
The county, being a large place with people from all over, used the familiar standard language and script he knew.
Suppressing this unexpected joy, he wanted clarity.
Meanwhile, Fan Jing led him to a shop called Bridgehead Huiniangzi Fabric Store.
A sign outside read, “Hiring, inquire inside.”
The shop was tucked away, small enough to see from end to end.
There were no customers.
As they entered, a woman behind the counter, holding a five- or six-year-old child, noticed them.
“Big Jing, down from the mountain?” she asked.
Fan Jing nodded.
The woman set down the child with a topknot, handed him a rattle drum, and said, “Go play.”
The child ran out, calling, “Big Brother Jing!” Fan Jing patted his head, and the boy hopped off, shaking the rattle.
“Getting thread for Zhener? We just got new stock, fine stuff your uncle brought from the city,” the woman said to Fan Jing, then noticed Kang He, looking unfamiliar.
“Who’s this?” she asked, surprised to see Fan Jing with a man.
“Family betrothed,” Fan Jing replied.
Her eyes widened, giving Kang He another look.
“It’s settled?”
Fan Jing nodded.
Her face lit up.
“That’s great news! He looks like a fine lad. Your mother would be at ease.”
The woman, Liang Hui, had been close with Fan Jing’s late mother, Gu Shi.
Even after Gu’s passing, she cared for Fan Jing and his sister, often giving them thread or cloth.
Fan Jing occasionally brought her mountain goods.
Learning their purpose, she was about to inspect Kang He’s clothes and boots when a young woman entered.
Liang Hui, thinking she was a customer, greeted her warmly.
“I heard you’re hiring. Have you enough workers?” the young woman asked.
Realizing she was seeking work, Liang Hui said, “Not yet. Are you looking for work yourself?”
“Yes.”
Liang Hui turned to Fan Jing.
“Big Jing, are you in a hurry?”
Seeing she had business, Fan Jing said, “No rush, Aunt, you go ahead.”
Liang Hui led them to sit, and Kang He noticed her pregnant belly, likely five or six months along.
She poured tea for them and offered a stool to the young woman, then asked about her situation.
“I worked at Granny Li’s fabric shop, but last month her niece came to help, and they didn’t need so many workers, so I was let go. I know all kinds of fabrics and can read a few characters,” the young woman said.
Liang Hui nodded.
“Can you speak the official language?”
“I can listen and speak. Growing up in the county, I was taught the official language. Want to hear me call customers?”
Without hesitation, she stood, went to the door, and called out, “Ladies, come see! Our shop has new fabrics, good quality, fair prices. Even if you don’t buy, come rest your feet!”
Kang He realized she was applying to be a shop caller.
Liang Hui, seeing her boldness and pleasant demeanor, was satisfied.
“Do you have your registration papers?”
The young woman eagerly presented her papers.
“I’m a proper county resident. You can verify my papers.”
Kang He’s brow furrowed.
He leaned forward, and though Liang Hui didn’t understand why, she kindly explained, “The county requires registration papers for work.”
Fearing he didn’t understand the official language, she repeated it in the local dialect.
Kang He’s brows tightened further.
He recalled no such document in his bundle or chest.
Pointing to the young woman’s papers and then himself, he looked at Fan Jing.
Fan Jing’s brow twitched, giving him a deep look.
“At home,” he said.
Kang He, having just learned this phrase, wasn’t sure if it meant the Kang or Fan household.
“Fan Jing, at home?” he asked.
Fan Jing nodded.
Kang He felt a mix of emotions.
It made sense—the Fan family had paid the Kang family, and with his registration papers in their hands, they weren’t worried he’d run off.
Another important realization hit him, but something else concerned him more.
Seizing the moment, he tugged Fan Jing’s sleeve, clutching his stomach with a pained look.
Fan Jing led him to a public outhouse outside the alley.
Kang He glanced at the outhouse, then the fabric shop, and signaled to Fan Jing that he didn’t need to wait—he remembered the way.
Fan Jing returned to the shop.
Once Fan Jing was inside, Kang He slipped out of the outhouse and dashed to the market.
Finding a local gossip, he spent two copper coins to ask questions in the official language.
The man understood, didn’t question his speech, and answered.
Soon, Kang He understood.
The county used two languages: the standard official language and the local dialect.
Locals spoke the dialect, while outsiders used the official language for communication.
Prominent figures, finding the dialect crude, used the official language to distinguish themselves.
Educated people all knew the official language, and even uneducated county residents, taught from childhood for trade, could understand and speak it, though with accents.
For convenience, merchants mostly used the official language, but they’d match whatever language you spoke.
In short, people in the city spoke whatever language you used.
Only rural villagers, often illiterate and rarely traveling, might not speak or understand the official language.
In the village, Kang He hadn’t encountered anyone speaking the official language, so he didn’t know this.
Cautious, and unable to understand the dialect, he’d avoided speaking the official language.
Had he spoken earlier, someone in the village might have understood, but it could’ve caused trouble.
A supposed “fool” suddenly speaking the official language, not the local dialect, would raise suspicions.
Superstitious villagers, even if the Kang family didn’t think him possessed, might have stirred trouble.
Though he couldn’t reveal his ability in the village, this discovery was a pleasant surprise.
But joy came with worry. While knowing the official language was convenient, his registration papers were with the Fan family, and he didn’t know how to retrieve them.
The gossip warned that without them, he couldn’t find proper work, buy a house, or rent land—he’d be an undocumented nobody.