Luo Douzi hitched up the ox cart, hoisted the brown bear and the other game onto the flatbed, and covered the entire haul with a thick straw mat.
While they prepared, Madam Zhao found a set of Luo Douzi’s old clothes—now too small for him—and handed them to Jiang Yue. Traveling to town covered in blood and filth wouldn’t do. Jiang Yue didn’t hesitate; she went inside, changed, and deftly tied her wild, tangled hair into a neat scholar’s bun.
A small bronze mirror sat on Madam Zhao’s vanity. Jiang Yue stole a glance at her reflection. She looked much as she had during her herding days in her past life: delicate brows, a rosebud mouth, and a slender face. The only issue was the sallow, yellowish tint to her skin—she desperately needed better nutrition.
It was well past noon by the time Old Man Luo pulled Jiang Yue onto the cart and urged his grandson to get moving. They needed to sell the bear while it was still relatively fresh.
The ox cart lumbered along as fast as it could, reaching the gates of Muchuan County just as twilight began to bleed into the sky. Entry required a fee of one copper coin per person. In times of unrest, they would have needed travel permits as well, but today, a simple coin sufficed.
Jiang Yue didn’t have a single copper to her name. Old Man Luo silently pulled out three coins, paid the guard, and they entered the city.
Inside the walls, Old Man Luo took the reins. The streets were a dizzying blur of activity—pedestrians weaving through traffic and stalls lining every inch of the road. Jiang Yue’s eyes darted everywhere, taking in the sights of an era she had only read about.
After navigating a maze of narrow alleys, they arrived at the back entrance of a prominent tavern. Old Man Luo called for a waiter, and soon, a man with a round, jovial belly—Manager Qin—came waddling out.
“Old Luo! It’s been years since you’ve graced my doorstep,” Manager Qin called out, his eyes straying toward the heavily covered cart. “What treasure have you brought me today?”
Old Man Luo leaned in close, whispering into the manager’s ear while gesturing toward Jiang Yue.
“This belongs to the kid’s family. I’m just here to help with the talking. Except for the bear, everything else is still breathing. Give us a fair price, and I’ll make sure all their future catches come straight to you.”
Manager Qin glanced at Jiang Yue. She looked small, thin, and far too young. Her family must be quite bold to send a child to handle such business, he thought, his curiosity piqued.
He lifted a corner of the straw mat. One look was all it took for his eyes to crinkle into narrow slits of joy. He waved a hand at his staff.
“Quick! Get this cart into the backyard. I’m taking the whole lot!”
The tally was impressive: two pheasants, three rabbits, and four squirrels—all alive. It was rare for a tavern to receive live game; live animals fetched a much better price than dead ones. To receive nine at once spoke volumes of the hunter’s skill.
But the live game was just the appetizer. The centerpiece was the massive brown bear. Manager Qin noted the dozens of arrow wounds and the two grisly holes where the eyes used to be.
After a bout of spirited haggling, the bear was sold for seventy silver taels. The smaller game brought in more: 160 copper coins for the pheasants, 480 for the rabbits, and 240 for the squirrels. Manager Qin, feeling generous, rounded the payment up, handing over seventy silver notes and a heavy string of copper coins, adding an extra 120 coppers as a bonus.
“Remember,” Qin said firmly, “if you catch anything else this big, you bring it to me first!”
Bear meat itself wasn’t worth a fortune—only slightly more than pork at 70 coppers a pound. The meat alone was worth about thirty-five taels. The real value lay in the hide, the gallbladder, and the paws. Though the hide was riddled with holes, the total price was fair. Jiang Yue knew she never would have fetched such a high price had she tried to sell it on her own.
On the way back, the urgency was gone. As they passed a steamed bun shop, Jiang Yue bought twenty hot buns. She had only eaten a bit of roast meat that morning and was famished; she devoured five in quick succession. Luo Douzi and his grandfather didn’t stand on ceremony either, each eating two.
They managed to clear the city gates just before they swung shut for the night.
The darkness deepened, and the ox cart slowed to a rhythmic, swaying crawl. With a full stomach and the adrenaline finally fading, Jiang Yue’s eyelids felt like lead. She hadn’t slept in over thirty hours. To keep herself from drifting off, she forced herself to chat with Luo Douzi.
She naturally brought up the dark circles under his eyes, noting to herself that the boy had clearly stayed up worrying. He’s a good kid, she thought.
By the time they reached the Luo house, the night was pitch black. Jiang Yue went inside to change back into her own clothes. While they were away, Madam Zhao hadn’t been idle; she had washed and dried Jiang Yue’s filthy garments. The older woman had watched closely as the girl handled her son’s most prized possession—his dagger—but she kept her thoughts to herself.
Unaware of Madam Zhao’s observations, Jiang Yue gathered her seven marten pelts and five rabbit skins, offered her thanks, and headed home.
At the Jiang family’s old house, the atmosphere was thick with gloom. Jiang Ming paced the floor, his voice full of self-reproach.
“I should have followed her. It’s been three days now, and she isn’t back.”
“We never should have let her go into those mountains,” Jiang Xue added, her eyes brimming with tears.
Their mother, Madam Cai, began to sob. “It’s my fault… I’m useless. My Yue’er went into that danger just because I couldn’t provide for us.”
Jiang Youshan looked up, his face etched with resolve. “I’m not going to work tomorrow. I’m going into the mountains to find her.”
“I’m coming with you,” Jiang Ming added through gritted teeth.
Suddenly, young Jiang Lei’s ears perked up. He heard footsteps outside.
“Is Big Sister back?”
Jiang Ming threw the door open just as Jiang Yue was about to push it.
“Yue’er?!”
“Sister!”
“You’re back!”
The cloud of misery vanished instantly. The family crowded around her, hands fluttering as they checked her for injuries.
“I’m fine,” Jiang Yue reassured them, a tired but bright smile on her face. “Come and see what I’ve brought!”
By the light of the moon, she began to untie the heavy bundles from her waist.
Rabbit skins, marten pelts, and a pile of steamed buns were laid out first. Then came the sound that silenced the room.
Clink! Clang!
A massive heap of copper coins tumbled across the bed. A full string of a thousand coins was no light matter; it weighed at least ten pounds. Jiang Yue kept the seventy silver taels tucked away for now—she’d explain those tomorrow. Right now, her body was screaming for sleep.
The family stared, their eyes nearly popping out of their heads. Just how much game had their daughter caught to earn such a fortune?
That night, Jiang Yue slept the deep, heavy sleep of the dead. The rest of the family, however, stayed up late, their hearts racing with an excitement that made rest impossible.
During the three days Jiang Yue had been away, the main house hadn’t come over to stir up trouble. The other branches of the family had watched from afar, noting how the first branch had been eating nothing but thin gruel lately. They figured the meat had finally run out. After all, who could afford to eat like kings every day?
So, the next morning, when Jiang Xue set out a platter of a dozen steaming meat buns, a swarm of children from the main house gathered around, their mouths watering.
Jiang Yue bit into a bun, then tapped the rim of the basin with her chopsticks to get their attention.
“These,” she said coolly, “belong to the first branch. If you want a bite, go get your own family’s money to trade for them.”
The children bristled, but Jiang Yue was no longer the “idiot” they could push around. Not only did she speak up, but one look into her cold, steady eyes made their hearts skip a beat in fear. They couldn’t summon their usual arrogance.
Jiang Changping, however, was the type to forget the pain once the wound had healed. Watching the oil glisten on the bun in Jiang Yue’s hand, he swallowed hard and muttered,
“It’s just a meat bun, and she wants money? This whole room stinks of poverty. Do you even have the luck to enjoy such food?”
Jiang Yue’s mood soured. A child acting like a neighborhood shrew? In her past life as a coach, she had grown to like children, but she saw none of a child’s natural innocence or kindness in Jiang Changping. There was no need to be polite to a brat.
She looked up, pinning him with a flat stare.
“Get out,” she said quietly.
Her gaze was calm, but Jiang Changping saw something terrifying lurking beneath the surface. He hit the floor hard on his backside, let out two panicked whimpers, scrambled up, and bolted. He didn’t understand that he had just faced the aura of someone who had stared down a five-hundred-pound bear.
The other children followed him, fleeing in a panicked scramble. Jiang Zhi ran a few paces but then doubled back. She didn’t dare look Jiang Yue in the eye, keeping her head bowed as she gestured toward the buns.
“I’ll trade you a secret for one. Deal?”
Jiang Xue, never one to pass up a spat with her rival, snapped, “Who cares about your secrets!”
Jiang Yue was intrigued. She silenced her sister and looked at Jiang Zhi.
“The secret has to be useful. If it’s worthless, no deal.”
Jiang Zhi nodded fervently. “It’s useful to you. But you have to promise not to say I was the one who told you.”
“Don’t worry,” Jiang Yue replied. “My lips are sealed.”
Curiosity piqued, Jiang Yue leaned in to listen.
“I heard my aunt telling Grandmother that they’re going to sell you to a human trafficker!”
Jiang Xue gasped, her face pale. “You’re lying, aren’t you?”
Jiang Zhi huffed, rolling her eyes. “May lightning strike me if I’m lying! Auntie even said that in two years, they’ll sell you off, too!”
“How dare they!” Jiang Xue’s face turned scarlet with rage.
Jiang Yue remained calm. She thought for a moment, then handed two buns to Jiang Zhi.
“That secret was worth it. If you hear anything else, feel free to bring it here for a trade.”
Whether Jiang Zhi was telling the absolute truth or not didn’t matter. If they wanted to sell her, they would have to see if they had the strength to catch her first.
The first branch finished the rest of the buns in short order. Meanwhile, Jiang Zhi snuck back to the second branch’s quarters and handed her prize to her mother, Madam Li.
“Mom, I… Jiang Yue gave these to me.”
Madam Li frowned at the buns. “What is that side of the house up to now? What kind of scheme involves giving away food?”
She looked at the buns—pure white flour, plump, and as large as a fist. She broke one open.
“Pure meat filling?” The sun must have risen in the west for that “madwoman” Jiang Yue to give the second branch anything. Still, Madam Li divided the buns into four portions, giving each of her children a half. Since the food was already there, they might as well eat it. She figured she’d just treat it as an apology for what had happened to her son, Jiang Changli.