Chapter 6: An Outrageous Price

Whether or not the old lady believed her, Wenyao had said her piece. Given their relationship with the old house, repairing it would not be a matter of a day or two. After handing the money to Mrs. Luo, Wenyao instructed Big Head to behave, then shouldered her basket and left the old house with Wenjun.

After they departed, Mrs. Li came over, curiosity written all over her face as she glanced at the five copper coins in Mrs. Luo’s hand.

“Mother, what’s gotten into eldest brother? What’s he up to now?”

Mrs. Luo closed her hand around the coins and shot her a glare. “None of your business. Go feed the chickens, you talk too much.”

With that, Mrs. Luo took Big Head’s hand and turned back into the house.

Mrs. Li pouted, muttering under her breath, “We earn money for the old house too, just worried he’ll come and swindle us again.”

Mrs. Luo kept walking, but Mrs. Li’s words reached her ears. She sighed helplessly. She and her husband had already done enough; everyone was right, they couldn’t let the eldest drag down the second and third families.

Big Head also heard Mrs. Li’s words, and quietly squeezed Mrs. Luo’s hand, his big eyes looking up at her, as if to comfort her.

Mrs. Luo’s expression softened, feeling even more pity for her little grandson. So young and already motherless, his father was hopeless, and he still couldn’t speak. Who knew what would happen to him in the future?

Meanwhile, the siblings relied on their memory to follow the mountain path upward. Halfway up, Wenyao painfully brought out two steamed buns from her space, and the two managed to eat them.

Wenyao swore, once she made money, she’d feast on fish and meat for days.

As children of the Agricultural Academy’s second generation, recognizing plants was second nature. They knew what was edible and what wasn’t, but now that winter had set in, and the mountain was close to the village, most edible things had already been dug up.

If the siblings wanted to find something to eat, they’d have to go deeper into the mountain. Yet, villagers had spoken of wild beasts lurking there. Though most hibernated in winter, one could never be too sure.

So, they circled the outskirts.

“There’s a pine forest over there. Let’s check if we can find some pine nuts. If luck’s on our side, maybe a few mushrooms,” Wenyao said, pointing to the grove.

Wenjun laughed, “Do your mushrooms grow in winter?”

Wenyao burst out laughing. “Yes, my mushrooms grow in winter.”

Back at the Academy, an aunt who studied fungi was particularly fond of Wenyao, often gifting her mushroom kits to grow at home. Not just in winter—her house produced mushrooms year-round.

Wenjun seemed to recall the past too and joined in the laughter. The siblings chatted and joked as they entered the pine forest.

Wenyao knew squirrels liked to stash food in tree holes, so she specifically searched those areas, actually digging out quite a few pine cones and hickory nuts.

“These squirrels never imagined their winter stash would be raided,” Wenjun remarked as he worked.

Wenyao, satisfied with her haul, said, “Let’s take just enough to eat. This stuff isn’t filling, and if we take it all, the squirrels won’t survive.”

Mainly, Wenyao wanted to use them to unlock achievement points.

She placed some pine nuts and hickory nuts into her space, unlocking them, but only received one achievement point for each.

One point per item, two in total.

Not even enough to exchange for a bag of salt.

“Ridiculous. Selling items is at the original price, but collecting things only gives a bit,” Wenyao complained. In the original book, the heroine easily racked up dozens, hundreds, even thousands of points. Why had it changed for her?

But she discovered something: whether she placed a single pine nut or a handful, the reward was the same. So Wenyao decisively put in just one of each and kept the rest for herself.

Wenjun was more optimistic. “These are just extras. Besides, they were originally the heroine’s things given to us; a bit of variability is normal. Here, try this.”

He handed something to Wenyao.

She looked—it resembled a tree root.

“What’s this?”

“Tianmendong,” Wenjun replied. “I found some over there. Try putting it in.”

Though Wenjun specialized in Western medicine, his college roommate came from generations of traditional Chinese doctors. Their dorm often studied medical texts together, and classics like the Compendium of Materia Medica were memorized with ease, so recognizing medicinal herbs was natural.

Without hesitation, Wenyao broke off the smallest piece and put it in the recycling box, watching as the panel displayed:

Tianmendong, also known as Three Hundred Stems, Martial Bamboo, Silk Winter, Tiger’s Tail Root... Medicinal use... Achievement points earned: five.

Balance: 7

Not bad, a profit.

Wenyao put the rest into her basket.

“Brother, let’s dig more. Five points per piece—should fetch some money. Let’s gather more and sell it in town,” Wenyao said.

Wenjun nodded, and the siblings began digging nearby, with Wenjun mainly searching and Wenyao helping.

After clearing out the area and collecting some firewood, they headed down the mountain.

Back at the old house, Big Head had already eaten lunch with the family. Mrs. Luo saw the siblings, mud-spattered and their baskets full, and a hint of satisfaction flickered in her eyes. She didn’t say much, but gave each of them a vegetable cake as they left.

Though only palm-sized, it was better than nothing.

Wenyao went up and linked arms with Mrs. Luo, shamelessly playing the child. “Thank you, Grandma. I knew you still cared for us. When I make money, I’ll buy cloth for you to make new clothes.”

Mrs. Luo stiffened at Wenyao’s gesture; none of the younger generation had ever dared get so close to her before. For a moment, she forgot how to react, and by the time she came to, Wenyao was already leading Big Head, waving goodbye.

Wenyao held Big Head’s hand, sneaking glances at the old lady’s reaction, a smile tugging at her lips.

She wanted to catch her off guard, to help the old lady get used to her presence.

“Let’s go, Big Head, home!” Another day of reconciliation with the old house.

Back home, the siblings were busy—gathering stones, building a temporary stove. Wenyao gave Big Head a handful of pine nuts and hickory nuts; he obediently sat on the threshold, watching them work, neither crying nor fussing.

They boiled water, washed the herbs they’d dug up, and laid them out to dry in the yard. After tidying up the house, dusk settled.

When Wenxiuyi returned, he saw his three children sitting around the fire in the yard, a pot hanging above with steam rising, the flames painting their faces a rosy red.

At that sight, the fatigue of the day vanished.

“Children, I’m home.”