In October, the Fan family was busy harvesting this year’s grain. When they weren’t working hard in the fields, they were occupied in the granaries, with no spare moment to step away.
A couple of days ago, rain had fallen, and the weather suddenly turned chilly. Da Fu caught a cold and had been listless all day, even missing school.
This little rascal had always been sturdy and rarely caught colds, but when he fell ill, it was like a mountain had collapsed on him.
Sick, he couldn’t jump or run about and clung to Fan Jing tightly.
That morning, his little face was flushed from sleep, and his voice was hoarse. Chen Sanfang came to dress him, but he curled up in his little quilt, refusing to poke his head out, wanting Fan Jing to help him put on his clothes.
Fan Jing saw he wasn’t feeling well and pitied him. So that morning, he didn’t go to the city with Kang He but stayed home to take care of him.
After coaxing him to eat some porridge and feeding him medicine, Da Fu nestled in Fan Jing’s arms, clutching a lump of mud playfully and saying he wanted to recite the Thousand Character Classic for Fan Jing.
Fan Jing then asked Xiao Xiang to fetch it for him. The little one read only a few characters before the medicine’s effect caught up with him, and sleep drew him under.
Watching him fall asleep, Fan Jing took advantage of the moment to hitch up the cart and head to the neighboring Well-Digging Village, where Lady Zhang’s family was celebrating a birthday.
They had ordered a dozen chickens, six ducks, three fat rabbits, and half a pig’s worth of meat from the Fan household.
Everyone at home was busy with their own tasks, so Fan Jing, having some free time, offered to deliver the goods. It wasn’t far—less than half an hour’s ride by cart.
After unloading the poultry and meat at Zhang’s and settling the payment, Fan Jing saw a crowd gathered near the village entrance on his way back and stopped to take a look.
He didn’t want to join the commotion, worried Da Fu might wake up soon and start calling him.
“Fish for sale! Fish for sale! Good prices, great deals!”
It turned out they were selling fish. Fan Jing parked the cart and went closer.
He saw two large ponds had been drained, and a few men were catching fish in the muddy beds. Several big wooden tubs near the pond brimmed with over ten fish each.
“Is this Zhang’s family catching fish for their birthday banquet?” Fan Jing asked one of the women watching the scene.
“No, not Zhang’s pond. Their family did buy some fish here for the celebration. This is Meng’s fishpond. Old Meng’s family is moving to the prefectural city. They’ve handed over the fields to relatives to manage. The fishponds are hard to handle, so they drained the water to sell off the fish. They won’t be raising fish here anymore.”
Fan Jing had heard something similar from Chen Sanfang a while ago—that someone in Well-Digging Village had married well, a man without parents who was engaged in business and planned to take his in-laws to enjoy a comfortable life.
He hadn’t expected that family to be the Mengs, the fish farmers.
Fan Jing didn’t pry further but, seeing the fish caught from the ponds looked good, selected two sizable red-tailed carp and six large blue catfish.
He also asked for two pairs of soft-shelled turtles from another pond.
The Meng family, seeing how much Fan Jing took, provided two buckets to hold the fish and even gave some bright red little carp for him to raise for the children at home.
Two men helped carry the water-filled buckets to Fan Jing’s cart, and he thanked them.
By the time he returned home, Da Fu had woken up and refused to be picked up by Xiao Xiang, wanting to wait for Fan Jing to return.
The little guy rubbed his eyes, and after Fan Jing wiped his face, he looked a bit more lively.
“Where did you go?”
Fan Jing picked him up. “Went to the next village to deliver goods and saw some fish for sale, so I bought a few. When your daddy comes back, I’ll have him cook fish soup for you.”
Da Fu rested on Fan Jing’s shoulder. “I want to see the blue catfish too.”
Fan Jing carried him over.
Since they didn’t keep any cats at home, there was no worry about mischief. Xiao Xiang fetched a large wooden tub, filled it with water, and put the fish in.
Da Fu was especially fond of the little carp, their bodies almost completely red. Fan Jing went inside to get some cooked rice to feed the fish.
He watched as the little fish opened their soft mouths to swallow the grains, then flicked their tails and darted under the larger fish’s belly. It was quite amusing.
“It would be nice if Shiwu were here; he also likes red carp.”
Fan Jing sat beside the little one feeding the fish and said, “Then you take good care of these little carp. When he returns, you’ll watch them together.”
“When will Shiwu come back?”
“Probably around New Year,” Fan Jing replied. “Less than two months now.”
Da Fu heard that it was nearly New Year and grew happy, saying he’d get to see Aunt Xian again.
In the afternoon, Kang He returned earlier than usual, not feeling very at ease about Da Fu’s health. After finishing his tasks, he closed the shop early.
Seeing Fan Jing shooting arrows in the yard, he asked, “How’s Da Fu? No fever today, right?”
“Had two doses of medicine already. He’s getting better.”
Kang He finally breathed a sigh of relief and, without unloading the cart, went straight inside to check on Da Fu.
Fan Jing unloaded the cart, then led the mule into the shed for water and fodder.
“Where did you get those fish?” Kang He asked after a moment.
“Old man.”
Kang He smiled and pinched Da Fu’s cheek. “You little glutton.”
Fan Jing nodded to Kang He. “There were also a few soft-shelled turtles. Let’s make soup with those and send a jar to the eldest brother’s family.”
Fan Nai’s health had been deteriorating lately. Both the two branches of the family were more attentive than before, always thinking about nourishing her with good food.
Kang He agreed and called Fan Jing to help him in the kitchen.
“Went outside to wash clothes,” Fan Jing said.
He built a fire in the stove while Da Fu sat nearby, bowing his head and peeling garlic.
“The Meng family sold all their fish from the ponds. They won’t raise fish there anymore? What will they do with the place?”
Fan Jing said, “I didn’t ask carefully.”
Then he looked at Kang He. “Do you want to buy that pond?”
“Last year they drained it to catch and sell fish. I saw their fish were well raised. Although not as tasty as the mountain fish we had before, it’s pretty good,” Kang He replied, busy cleaning and gutting fish. He chatted with Fan Jing casually, “Well, Well-Digging Village isn’t far from here. If they don’t want it and sell, taking it over could be a business.”
Fan Jing thought to himself that Kang He was always thinking about turning everything into business, big or small, and didn’t mind hard work.
That kind of mindset was why their family had reached the place they were now.
Thinking this, Fan Jing felt a little regret for not asking more earlier.
“When I bought the fish, the Meng family gave me two buckets to carry them back. If you want the pond, you can ask them when you return the buckets.”
Kang He agreed.
Later, he simmered the turtle soup and salted the fish, prepared all the ingredients, waiting to cook together at home that evening.
Taking advantage of this time, he went to Well-Digging Village again.
By the time he returned, night had fallen.
Fan Jing asked, “How did it go?”
Kang He was in good spirits. “They’ve caught the fish and plan to have relatives manage the two ponds for rice planting. But they’re willing to sell to me.”
Although the Meng family planned to live well in the prefectural city, they were still calculating folk. They hadn’t sold all their land, thinking they might return if things changed.
But they wanted extra money in the city, so selling the two ponds was a good subsidy.
After negotiation, they agreed on thirty guan.
Kang He thought that was expensive and bargained it down to eighteen guan.
Fan Jing asked, “Are you planning to raise fish yourself?”
“I’m not too interested in fish. I want to raise soft-shelled turtles, shrimp, and field frogs,” Kang He said.
“There are many fish sellers outside. River fish and lake fish aren’t scarce, and fish from ponds are the cheapest. If the pond is large, we can do some coarse fish farming, which isn’t bad. But if it’s small, it’s better to raise some rare and carefully tended species.”
Fan Jing agreed with Kang He’s reasoning. Raising cheap fish might not be as profitable as butchering pigs and selling meat. Raising rarer items could earn more.
For example, they raised quail, which many wealthy families bought regularly from them.
“If you raise fish, fingerlings are still easy to find. But for other species, it’s hard to get them in the county market.”
Fan Jing had seen shrimp fry for sale at the fish market before, but their quality was poor—just a glance was enough to doubt their survival even if bought at a high price.
Raising anything was difficult, especially the startup.
Their family had put a great deal of effort into raising livestock in the past.
Kang He then proudly said, “Old Meng is an honest man. He knows well about this business and told me that good fingerlings are hard to find in our county and usually have to be bought in neighboring Fang County.”
“The fingerlings he raised came from Fang County, which borders the river and has more waterways than our county, so their aquatic resources are richer.”
Kang He continued, “When I went to settle accounts with him, he had the land deed ready and gave me a reliable contact in Fang County, an old Meng relative, to help us buy fingerlings.”
Fan Jing felt reassured. Since there was a clear path, the matter would be easier.
With October’s harvest done, Kang He and Fan Jing prepared to start the aquaculture venture.
They weren’t new to this kind of business, but had no suitable person to send to Fang County, so they decided to go themselves.
After packing some items and obtaining travel permits, they set off with a mule cart.
Fang County wasn’t very close, nor very far.
Walking would take three to five days, but by cart it could be reached in a day or two, even a single day if the horses were fast.
Late autumn had come, and the weather was chilly. The two of them dressed warmly and traveled along the official road toward Fang County.
Fan Jing had grown up never having traveled beyond the county seat.
Many simple common folk born and raised in one place rarely left the county if no disaster or illness struck their hometown.
The official road was lively, not deserted for miles.
Autumn ending and winter approaching meant the New Year was near. Merchants busied themselves—buying grain, trading goods, even escorting valuables.
At a courier station, while resting and refilling their water, they met a talkative merchant who traveled often.
He told Kang He and Fan Jing that trade between counties had grown busier in recent years. The world was peaceful, and more people engaged in business.
People lived more securely and had more disposable income, making trade much better than a few years ago after the war ended.
Their conversation was pleasant, and they traveled some distance together.
At parting, the merchant gave Kang He and Fan Jing some tea and a box of poria.
Kang He wanted to bring back some things for home, but since they weren’t going to sell goods, they didn’t prepare many luxuries.
They ended up with two spicy rabbits and a small box of dried peppercorns from the merchant.
“Dried peppercorns? They smell really fragrant!” the merchant said, sniffing the box and admiring the aroma.
Opening it, he saw dried Sichuan pepper and took a deep breath, clearly pleased.
He told Kang He that his hometown didn’t produce this spice, so it sold for a high price.
In his home, peppercorn was only used during festivals, and even then only by wealthy families who could afford such flavor.
The richest used peppercorn paste on their walls to repel insects and mice, showcasing their status.
“Brother, this box of dried peppercorns is worth several guan back home, very precious.”
Then the merchant wanted to find a valuable gift to give Kang He.
Kang He found the merchant very sincere and told him, “This is all from our own land, not bought elsewhere at high prices. No need to be so formal.”
The merchant replied, “Not a large amount, but if you’re interested, I could sell some to you and take them home to sell, and we’d both profit.”
Kang He said, “It’s no big business—just about one and a third mu of trees. We’ve tended them carefully for years. This year we had some fruit, mostly sold already. If we want to expand, it’ll take a few years.”
Surprisingly, the merchant agreed to wait and gave Kang He his address, promising the price would never be lower than the county market’s, and he would come as agreed.
Kang He happily gained a new sales outlet and gave the merchant a small bottle of wild pepper oil in return.
After parting ways, Kang He and Fan Jing switched turns driving.
Fan Jing shook out his slightly sore hands. “You’re quite generous, always giving away expensive things.”
Kang He laughed, “I just saw he’s an out-of-town merchant and gave him some local specialties.”
Fan Jing smiled slightly, lifted the water sack lid, and drank some hot water.
Kang He stretched his neck, and Fan Jing offered him a sip too.
Their mule ran fast, and by dusk, they reached Fang County.
The county was brightly lit and noticeably more lively than their own. It was a key stronghold due to its location.
“There’s an inn up ahead. Let’s stop there.”
Kang He glanced at the inn Fan Jing mentioned. It was small, and the two lanterns outside were unlit.
That kind of inn was cheap, catering to simple travelers looking for an inexpensive place to stay.
“It’s rare for us to get out. Let’s find a bigger inn and stay a night properly.”
Fan Jing said, “It’s all the same—only one night’s sleep. Close your eyes and it’s over. No need for fuss.”
Kang He snorted, “It’s different.”
He had a mischievous glint in his eye. “Just do as I say this once.”
Fan Jing thought following Kang He was always the same, though Kang He sounded like a tyrant sometimes.
They found a place called the Orchid Pavilion Inn. It was indeed large—a five-story building with long flower lanterns hanging from the upper floors, visible from far away.
Seeing them stop outside, a clerk hurried out to greet them and called someone to take their horses and cart to the stable.
Kang He asked for a room, and Fan Jing stood nearby, overhearing.
The clerk wanted a top-floor room for two guan a night. Fan Jing shook his head secretly, hoping the family wouldn’t hear about the cost.
Anyway, they were led upstairs to their room.
The top-floor room was spacious and elegantly furnished, even better than their home.
The clerk stoked the charcoal brazier and said he would soon bring hot water for them to use.
Meals could be delivered to the room or eaten in the main hall downstairs if they wanted company.
This inn’s kitchen was famous in the county for excellent cooking. Staying here, they certainly wouldn’t miss trying the chef’s skill.
Kang He agreed, and after resting a while in the room, hot water was brought up.
After a day of driving, their bodies were stiff. They stretched out on the soft couch, warmed by the room’s heat, which was different from the cold outdoors, making them reluctant to move.
This was what it meant to be weary from travel.
Fan Jing lightly kicked Kang He. “You go wash first, or shall I?”
Kang He half-closed his eyes, his tone lazy as if about to doze off. “You go first. I’ll wash later.”
Fan Jing went ahead to the washroom, undressed the heavy clothes, and tied up his hair.
Kang He soon followed.
“I’d better wash with you. Looks like there isn’t much water,” Kang He said.
Though they’d been partners for years, Fan Jing still felt a bit awkward without clothes. “Three big buckets of water aren’t enough? At home, you don’t use this much.”
Kang He pretended not to hear and quickly stripped, suddenly opening up to Fan Jing.
His thick eyebrows furrowed, voice serious: “Washing together will be faster. You’re not hungry, but I am.”
Fan Jing saw Kang He’s sinewy bare abdomen and his flushed ears. He turned away.
But Kang He’s brief moment of seriousness was just a guise. He had no intention of washing efficiently. No sooner had Fan Jing stopped thinking about it, Kang He wrapped his arms around him.
Fan Jing struggled a bit, but the small space and the bathing situation made it easy for Kang He to get the upper hand.
After some time, Fan Jing, feeling uncomfortable, told him to go back to the bed.
Kang He whispered in his ear calmly, “I was only going this far, but since you asked, I’ll do it two more times.”
Fan Jing’s face reddened, thinking Kang He not only talked too much but shamelessly so.
The bed was not wide, but sturdy. Their strength was great, yet they managed without making noises that would attract neighbors’ attention.
After about an hour, they finally tired and stopped.
The water had cooled, so Kang He poured it out and called the clerk to fetch more.
The clerk seemed used to such scenes and went to get more water without comment.
Fan Jing’s waist ached a little.
They skipped dinner downstairs and ate three small dishes in their room.
Kang He peeled a plate of green shrimp for Fan Jing, who dipped them in fragrant vinegar and ate a few before resting.