“Uncle.” Ye Qingyan looked at Ji Dehua. “We don’t want anyone else to know that we dug up ginseng.”
Ji Dehua furrowed his brow. “But there’s no way to keep the bicycle a secret.”
Ye Qingyan smiled brightly. “That’s something we’ll have to trouble Uncle with. Just say that you found a way to get the ration coupon, and lent us the money to buy it.”
Ji Dehua nodded without hesitation. “Alright, no problem. I’ll say exactly what you told me. If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I got the bicycle coupon for you.”
Ji Dehua was a highly skilled craftsman. Every time the commune needed to build dams, reservoirs, schools, or clinics, he was among the first to be called upon.
No one would find it strange if he came up with over a hundred yuan.
His house wasn’t as spacious as Ji Dezhi’s, but that was simply because his family was small—just three of them, and it suited them perfectly. It certainly wasn’t because they were poor. They planned to build a larger house once Ji Qiming was married and settled.
Ji Qiming looked at Ye Qingyan with obvious envy. “Qingyan, how do you get so lucky? Every time you head into the mountains, you come back with something. Next time, take me with you! I can carry whatever you catch down the mountain—so you won’t tire yourself out.”
Ye Qingyan nodded at once. “Sure. I’ll call you when I go next.”
“It’s been ages since I’ve been in the mountains,” Ye Qinghui put in, clearly curious. “Why don’t we go tomorrow?” He was eager to see what his sister would find this time.
Ji Qiming also looked at her expectantly, hoping she would agree.
“Alright then. Tomorrow it is.”
At her firm answer, Ji Qiming beamed. “Wonderful! I’ll come over first thing in the morning.”
“It’s settled.” Ye Qingyan stood up. “Let’s head home for dinner. See you tomorrow!”
This time, with Ye Qinghui and Ji Qiming accompanying her, Ye Qingyan felt bold enough to venture deeper into the mountains. On her two previous trips, she’d stayed near the edge—alone, running into wild boars or wolves would have been far too dangerous.
Their expedition turned out to be quite fruitful: they caught one wild boar and four pheasants.
No ginseng turned up, but no one felt disappointed. Coming home with this much game was more than enough to be happy about. Ginseng wasn’t just some turnip or cabbage—you couldn’t stumble upon it anywhere. Even professional herb-gatherers could spend a whole year in the mountains and never spot a single root.
Ye Qingyan glanced at the boar and suggested, “Let’s drag it halfway up the slope, hide it in a cave, and carry it home tonight after dark.”
Ye Qinghui and Ji Qiming agreed. They tied the boar’s legs together with rope, cut a sturdy log about as thick as an arm, and heaved the boar up between them.
Their dog, Chu Yi, led the way clearing a path. Ye Qingyan followed at a leisurely pace, humming a cheerful little tune.
“Look at us—we’re like two attendants trailing behind a young mistress,” Ji Qiming teased, though his eyes sparkled with delight. And why wouldn’t they? Selling a two-hundred-pound boar meant a nice payout for everyone.
As for the four pheasants, they decided to split them—two apiece—and eat them within the next few days.
Later that night, after midnight, Ye Qinghui and Ji Qiming slipped out, retrieved the boar from the cave, and carried it back to Ye Qingyan’s house. They butchered it, set aside dozens of pounds for curing sausages and bacon, and packed the rest into wicker baskets.
Ye Qingyan had been curious about the city’s black market and had wanted to tag along—until she remembered it meant walking well over an hour each way. She’d suffered enough on that hike back from the commune last time. So the two men went without her. They set out by flashlight in the dead of night and returned shortly after nine the next morning.
“Brother, you’ve worked so hard.” Ye Qingyan handed them bowls of sweetened water and gently kneaded their shoulders.
Ji Qiuyun brought out steamed buns and porridge from the kitchen, and they sat down to eat and talk.
Ye Qingyan asked eagerly, “How did it go? How much did we get?”
Ye Qinghui took a bite of bun and said straight away, “We sold it for 80 cents a jin. All together, we made 136 yuan. That’s 68 yuan for each family.”
“As soon as we got there, people crowded around us,” Ji Qiming added. “Everyone was fighting to buy it—sold out in no time! Only problem is, the market’s far away and we’ve got no steady supply. Otherwise, we could make a fortune just selling pork.”
Ye Qingyan nodded thoughtfully. Ji Qiming clearly had a knack for business—one trip to the black market and he’d already realized how profitable trade could be. Next spring, as policies loosened and the economy opened up, more people would start running small businesses. When that time came, she could certainly see Ji Qiming joining her.
After breakfast, Ye Qingyan pulled Ye Qinghui to review their lessons—and roped Ji Qiming in too. The moment he opened a book, he looked dizzy and overwhelmed. “Whew… I think I woke up too early. I’m feeling a bit under the weather. I’d better head home and catch up on sleep.” Before anyone could reply, he sprang up and hurried out. “Auntie, I’m going home first!”
Ji Qiuyun watched him go, murmuring in confusion, “Why is that boy running so fast? No one’s chasing him.”
Ye Qingyan giggled. “Mom, he’s just afraid I’ll make him study.”
“He shouldn’t be running away then! Studying is a good thing.” Ji Qiuyun shook her head. “Truth be told, he never did like books. Even as a little boy, he’d wail every time he had to go to school—got spanked more than once for it.”
“Everyone walks their own path,” said Ye Qingyan. “He’s quick-witted and a wonderful talker. Maybe someday he could try his hand at business.”
“Hush—don’t say such things!” Ji Qiuyun looked alarmed. “Speculation and private trade are illegal! The police arrest people for that.”
“The college entrance exam has been reinstated,” Ye Qingyan said calmly. “Other policies are sure to change too.” She opened her book and began studying.
Ji Qiuyun said no more. She picked up her knitting needles and wool from a bamboo basket nearby and sat quietly, knitting.
Outside, the forest stood deep and still. Sunlight slanted through the window and settled softly across the pages. A gentle breeze brushed strands of hair against Ye Qingyan’s forehead. The air felt cool and crisp. She held her brush and wrote, the only sound the soft rustle of ink on paper.
Such peaceful, golden days were not meant to last for Ye Qinghui. After staying two nights, he had to return to his family’s home. When it was time for him to leave, both Ji Qiuyun and Ye Qingyan hated to see him go.
“I’ll come visit you often,” Ye Qinghui said, gently patting Ye Qingyan’s head. “Mom is in your care now.”
“Hey! I just fixed my hair and you’ve messed it up again!” Ye Qingyan swatted his hand, pretending to be annoyed. “Go on—take care of yourself. And promise me you’ll study hard. Don’t fail your entrance exams and embarrass yourself!”
“Think I can’t keep up with you?” Ye Qinghui chuckled. “I might just score higher than you. Don’t come crying to me then!”
“Let’s make it a contest. We’ll see who comes out on top.”
Ye Qingyan had absolute confidence. In her past life, she had been the top scorer in the entire province—she could ace exams with her eyes closed.
“You’re on. Let’s see who wins.” Ye Qinghui backed away reluctantly, waving as he went. “Alright, alright—go back inside now. I’m off!”