After breakfast, Baolan cooked the pig feed and fed the pigs.
Li Sanniu ignored her the entire time, refusing to speak.
Baolan knew it was deliberate—first giving her the cold shoulder, waiting until she grew uneasy, then bringing up the family’s hardships and her own helplessness. If Baolan still refused to give in by then, Li Sanniu would start making a scene, threatening life and death.
Only now did Baolan realize how foolish she had been before, letting her mother manipulate her so completely.
She grabbed an empty basket, took a woodcutting knife, and headed to the back mountain to gather firewood.
Baomei was going to the fields to turn over sweet potato vines and bring back pig fodder along the way.
The two walked together to the sweet potato field at the foot of the mountain. Baomei seemed like she wanted to say something but hesitated.
Baolan didn’t give her the chance. She walked quickly, turned off onto a side path, and slipped into the forest.
She had intended to cut firewood, but instead discovered mushrooms sprouting everywhere.
It had rained a couple of days ago, and since no one had come up the mountain, the newly grown mushrooms hadn’t been picked yet. Baolan’s face lit up—this was good stuff. People in the city loved mushrooms, and if she carried them to the supply and marketing cooperative depot, they could sell for one yuan per pound!
She quickly set down her basket, lined the bottom with a layer of pine needles, and began picking.
Growing up in the countryside, people naturally knew by word of mouth which mushrooms were edible and which were poisonous.
There were the rough-textured but incredibly flavorful oak mushrooms, milky mushrooms that oozed white sap when pinched, honeycomb mushrooms with sponge-like flesh, and golden-red pine mushrooms.
As for the pretty ones—bright red or delicately shaped—she kicked them aside.
Baolan worked diligently, filling an entire basket in that patch of forest.
There was another pine forest across the way, which surely had more mushrooms. She planned to return after bringing this batch back.
On her way back, she ran into Jumei from her third uncle’s family and quickly told her to grab a basket and pick mushrooms too.
Not wanting to damage them, Baolan didn’t dump out her mushrooms. Instead, she switched baskets, called her good friend Dingqing, and the three of them headed to the pine forest opposite. Mushrooms popped out one after another from the thick layer of pine needles.
The soil there was richer, and mushrooms grew in clusters.
The three of them swept through like locusts, gathering everything in sight.
Dingqing was overjoyed. “I haven’t found any since last month—I didn’t expect so many today!”
Baolan said, “I’m planning to go sell them at the supply and marketing cooperative later. Are you coming?”
“Of course! I’m almost out of pocket money—these mushrooms are a lifesaver!” Dingqing laughed.
Dingqing’s father was the village head, and her mother was the village’s barefoot doctor. Her family was the best-off among the three, and any money she earned with Baolan she kept for herself—her parents didn’t interfere.
Juju pursed her lips and smiled. “I’ll go too.”
Baolan made the decision. “Then let’s take the boat—faster, and it won’t bruise the mushrooms. Otherwise, they’ll look bad and get priced down.”
Both Dingqing and Juju agreed.
Behind Hongsha Village was the mountain; in front flowed a river called Tao River. It was said that downstream there had once been a famous potter, and over time, the river took his trade as its name.
Small boats could still travel the river now, but once the dry season came next month, navigation would stop.
Baolan had two baskets of mushrooms. She didn’t call her elder sister Baomei, but worked together with Dingqing to carry the extra basket to the bridge to wait for a boat.
Soon, a small boat came downstream. Only the old boatman was aboard—just enough room for the three of them.
“Heading to town?” he asked.
Dingqing grinned. “Yes, we’re going to sell mushrooms.”
The boatman glanced at their baskets. “You’re lucky. I heard mushrooms are going for one yuan twenty per pound now.”
The three exchanged excited looks.
Walking from Hongsha Village to Daling Town took over two hours, but by boat downstream it only took twenty to thirty minutes.
They soon arrived at Niujiaoyi in Daling Town.
The Tao River flowed from northwest to southeast, merging into the Yangtze River at Niujiao Bend. Across the river lay Qingjiang County.
Baolan looked across the wide Yangtze, wondering which cities it passed through.
She only knew Qingjiang County—upstream was Mingfeng City, and downstream it flowed out of the province.
She gazed for a while before Dingqing urged her on. She hoisted her basket and got off the boat.
The downstream fare was 0.1 yuan per person; upstream cost 0.15. Since they carried goods, each basket added another 0.05. Baolan paid 0.2 yuan—enough to buy half a jin of pork, showing how expensive the boat ride was.
Niujiao Bend was the busiest part of Daling Town.
Before liberation, it had been a small dock. Afterward, the town’s supply and marketing cooperative set up a depot here, collecting farm products like eggs, vegetables, millet, and firewood, then shipping them across the Yangtze to Qingjiang County and even farther to Mingfeng City.
In the past, villagers could only sell locally at low prices, sometimes not at all. No one liked bringing goods to town.
But after the depot opened, things changed. Prices were fair, and everything was accepted, making farmers eager to bring their produce.
By now, a long queue had already formed outside the depot.
The three quickly joined the line.
People ahead saw their baskets full of mushrooms and were envious. “Picked these this morning? Which mountain has so many?”
Dingqing laughed. “From the back mountain of our village.”
“Which village?”
“Hongsha Village.”
“No wonder—it’s far. Nearby villages already sold theirs early.”
“Auntie, how much are mushrooms per pound now?” Dingqing asked.
“They were high a few days ago—1.25 yuan. Might’ve dropped a bit now.”
Baolan listened as the line slowly moved forward.
Soon, it was their turn.
Dingqing, naturally sociable, asked the depot clerk, “How much per pound for mushrooms?”
“Mushrooms?” The clerk lifted the pumpkin leaves covering their baskets and inspected them. Seeing how fresh and undamaged they were, he nodded in approval. “Good quality. Mixed mushrooms at 1.18 yuan per pound. Weigh them over there.”
Though it wasn’t 1.2, they were still satisfied.
They poured their mushrooms into bamboo baskets and weighed them.
Despite looking full, mushrooms were light and bulky. Their medium baskets held only six to seven pounds at most.
In the end, Baolan’s two baskets weighed 13 pounds 4 liang, Juju’s 7 pounds 1 liang, and Dingqing’s 6 pounds 2 liang.
The clerk wrote up receipts and led them to collect payment.
Baolan received 15 yuan, 8 mao, and 1 fen. Looking at the neat stack of money in her hand, she quickly planned how to use it.
Her parents knew she came out to sell mushrooms. She would tell them mushrooms sold for one yuan per pounds and hand over five yuan. After last night’s argument, if she openly kept private money, they’d just think she was acting out and wouldn’t argue too much.
Anyway, they would find ways later to squeeze money out of her.
Baolan coordinated their story with Juju and Dingqing, reminding them to say the price was one yuan. Both agreed.
After selling the mushrooms, Dingqing bought a pound of peach crisps at the cooperative for 0.84 yuan.
Seeing Baolan buy nothing, Dingqing was puzzled. “You’re not buying anything? You usually get sweets or pastries.”
Baolan shook her head. “No. I need money right now.”
“Need money?” Dingqing immediately pulled out her roll of cash. “Then take mine.”
Touched by her friend’s generosity, Baolan smiled. “No need. I’ll borrow from you if I really need it.”
“Alright.”
Juju hesitated beside them and half-offered her money too. Baolan felt warmth in her heart and told her to keep it. “Your dad will definitely ask you for it—save some for yourself.”
Juju nodded shyly.