In the height of summer, the verdant rice paddies stretched endlessly before the eye. As the summer breeze swept across, the rice stalks rippled in layered waves, concealing the farmers who carried baskets and sickles among them.
They bore their sickles and back-baskets, stooping low as they inspected their year's worth of grain, occasionally clearing irrigation ditches, picking off pests, and pulling up diseased seedlings…
Through the middle of the rice fields wound a broad country road.
A black mule worked its two lips, chomping and chewing on dried grass, its long, sturdy legs trotting along at a leisurely clip-clop. It looked slow and unhurried, but in truth, it was no slower than an ordinary horse.
After all, horses excel at short bursts of speed—even a Sweat-Blood Horse could cover twenty li in under a quarter of an hour, while an ordinary mule would need two or three quarters. That sounded like an insurmountable gap, but stretch the distance out—
Over five hundred li, a good horse would need four or five hours with stops and rests. A good mule, taking its sweet time, could also amble its way there in four or five hours.
Little Black was a first-rate mule. Even while hauling cargo, it could cover over a hundred li in an hour at top speed—faster than many horses. It was an exceptionally fine mule, except—
"Pfft~"
A strange, foul odor wafted through the air.
Song Jin, seated on the mule's back, scrunched up her face. She waved one hand to disperse the smell while the other came down with a smack on the mule's head in front of her, speaking with earnest patience.
"Little Black, we're a mule with class. We need to be civilized and refined. You need to control yourself—eat more grass, less feed."
Little Black snorted through its nostrils, flicked its long ears, and lifted its hooves higher with an exaggerated clip-clop, looking thoroughly unrepentant.
A mule works so hard—what's wrong with eating a little something nice?
Seeing that it wasn't listening, Song Jin's expression changed instantly. She clenched her fist and shook it in front of the mule's eyes, then grabbed both of its long ears, saying coldly and mercilessly: "Keep farting like that and I'll dock your beans. Hear me?"
Little Black immediately tucked its rear in, snorted and shook its head, instantly turning docile and ingratiating.
Song Jin was satisfied.
No matter the era, force was still the most effective tool.
She took down the grain sack hanging from its neck, then gave the reins a tug and patted Little Black's head—which had clearly been slacking off—and called out: "Get moving. We've still got plenty to do."
Little Black immediately understood that walk time was over. It raised its head and let out two long snorts, then picked up speed, kicking up a trail of yellow dust as it clip-clopped rapidly toward Si'an County Town, a hundred li away.
Si'an County had once been a notoriously poor county. But then it encountered a good magistrate, and with his guidance, it developed and grew—from a destitute county town of only twenty or thirty thousand people into a prosperous county of over eighty thousand, ranking among the top in the entire prefecture.
The county town walls stretched a full fifteen or sixteen li. From a distance, one could see the words "Si'an County" inscribed high on the towering walls. Beneath the sign stood guards bearing blades, responsible for opening and closing the city gates, inspecting suspicious travelers, and collecting tolls for passing through.
The tolls mainly targeted itinerant merchants. The fee wasn't high, but small amounts added up—copper coin by copper coin, they had accumulated into the tall city walls.
The local magistrate was incorruptible, the county's discipline was strict, and the runners and officials treated people with courtesy.
Song Jin was well-known in Linxi Town, and no less so in the county. The guards at the city gate all recognized her. Seeing her leading her mule over, they broke into smiles.
"Little Song's here! What good stuff did you bring this time?"
Song Jin grinned and stepped forward: "Brother Luo, Brother Li, you two are on duty again? Hard work, hard work. Here, have some dried venison—freshly roasted yesterday."
Brother Luo: "Oho, venison! You little girl's something else. Well then, I won't stand on ceremony."
Brother Li: "Thanks. Oh, by the way—a plow ox went mad and died down in Daqing Town today. It's over at the market yard."
Hearing there was beef, Song Jin's eyes lit up instantly.
Unlike other animals, oxen were vital plowing resources in this era. Private slaughter was strictly forbidden—only oxen too old to work the fields, or those that died by accident, could be sold.
In all the time since Song Jin had crossed over, she'd only gotten to eat beef once every year or two.
After all, as long as nothing went wrong, a plow ox could last over a decade. Now that beef was available, Song Jin didn't stand on ceremony with the two men at all. She jumped onto her mule and was off in a puff of dust.
"Brother Luo, Brother Li, see you later—I'm off!"
The two guards watched her hurry away, shook their heads with some amusement, then quickly resumed their stern expressions and continued inspecting the other passersby.
As guards with a bit of standing in the city, their friendliness was selective.
…
Meanwhile, Song Jin rode her mule straight to the market yard.
The market yard was what everyone called it informally—a straightforward name for a place where all sorts of things were bought and sold. It was the liveliest market in the city, with merchant caravans coming and going from different places every day.
Food, toys, living things, dead things, animals, plants.
People.
Everything was there.
Though the market in the Apocalypse hadn't been any better than this. Song Jin was used to it. She skirted past the miscellaneous stalls and quickly found the place selling beef.
Beef was very popular. By the time she arrived, only scraps of bone and bits of meat remained, with few passersby sparing them a glance. The old man sitting by the stall was sighing heavily.
In these times, a strong ox was invaluable—not only could it help plow the fields and haul goods, but it could also be rented out to other families to earn a bit of extra income. Judging by its frame, this ox had only been fully grown for about two years, and just when it was finally reliable for work, it was gone. That was a significant loss for anyone.
Song Jin stepped forward, looked at the bone fragments, and didn't show the slightest distaste. Without haggling, she waved her small hand and bought the lot: "Grandpa, I'll take it all."
Grandpa Meng was overjoyed, but quickly hesitated: "All of it? Can you finish it all? It's hot out, and it won't keep long."
Song Jin crouched down and weighed it in her hands: "We'll finish it. There are plenty of people at home. I'll stew these bones overnight over a big fire—it'll be fragrant. I can render some bone oil to mix into rice or noodles, perfect."
Add some codonopsis and goji berries, and it'll be nourishing too.
Grandpa Meng was relieved, weighed it out, calculated the price, and carefully gathered up the bits of minced meat for her, explaining: "Don't mind the meat being shredded—it's fresh. My ox was just two years and three months old, the meat is at its tenderest. If it weren't for…"
His eyes grew moist as he spoke, looking deeply grieved.
And rightly so—a strong ox would fetch seven or eight taels of silver if sold whole, but selling it as meat would only bring two or three taels at best.
Song Jin felt for him. If her own little black dog were gone, leaving only scraps like this, she'd be heartbroken too.
She asked: "Grandpa, the ox looked perfectly fine. How did it die?"
Grandpa Meng smiled bitterly: "It was fine this morning. I took it to the foot of the mountain to plow, and as we were working, it suddenly went mad and bolted up the mountain. It missed its footing and fell to its death."
It hadn't actually died right away, but seeing the ox gasping its last, its spine broken, Grandpa Meng had gritted his teeth and put it out of its misery. Just thinking about it pained him deeply.
Song Jin sympathized: "Maybe it was stung by hornets, you never know."
Grandpa Meng said gloomily: "Probably not. I figure it was startled by some wild beast from the mountains. Our place borders Panlong Mountain—too many dangerous creatures there."
Song Jin pondered this, and recalling the guard's mention of Daqing Town, immediately guessed: "Da'an Village?"
"That's right."
Grandpa Meng sighed as he packed up his things, eyes still wet, unable to hold back: "This godforsaken place, this godforsaken mountain. My ox—I finally raised it to adulthood, thinking I could set up a cart and make a living…"
Song Jin looked at him with sympathy, said nothing more, paid promptly, took the meat into her basket, and led Little Black away from the market. She walked along the bluestone road to Pingfu Street, two streets over.
At the intersection stood a small courtyard. The stone lions at the gate had golden orbs in their mouths. If not for the tall plaque behind them reading "Hui Chun Tang," who could tell whether this was a gold shop or a medical clinic?
Song Jin clicked her tongue in amusement, tied Little Black to the pillar by the door, and walked inside.
Hui Chun Tang was the largest medical clinic in the county. Its prized physician, Doctor Liu, was a retired imperial doctor from the palace. His medical skills were superb and his fees reasonable, so business was booming.
When Song Jin walked in, no one noticed her. She had to fend for herself, so she raised her voice and hollered at the top of her lungs:
"Old Man Liu! Old Man Liu! I've brought your delivery!"
Old Man Liu—the prized physician himself—was taking someone's pulse. At the sound of that voice, his brow twitched, his hand trembled, and his beard bristled: "What are you yelling about, you wretched girl? Can't you see I'm with someone?"
Song Jin hopped over: "I can see you now. Old Man Liu, hurry up and inspect the goods. I need to get back soon—my mother will worry if I'm out after dark."
Old Man Liu puffed up his cheeks and glared: "Since when do you worry about your mother worrying?"
Song Jin rolled her eyes: "You're an old man and you still fear your mother. Can't a young girl like me fear mine?"
Old Man Liu was sixty years old, but he still had an eighty-year-old mother upstairs. The old lady was in remarkable spirits, bouncing around all day and scolding her son with great vigor.
She'd scold him for eating fatty meat or sweets, scold him for taking his medicine, scold him for gardening or doing chores.
Old Man Liu shot Song Jin a helpless glare—this wretched girl who loved to expose his shortcomings—then quickly finished with his current patient, prescribed the medicine, wiped his hands, and led her toward the pharmacy, grumbling all the way, his complaints laced with anguish:
"What did you bring this time? Don't you dare try to fob me off with scraps again. All you ever do is nourish your mother, nourish, nourish—she's already overflowing with nourishment. What a waste of good medicine!"
Song Jin walked behind him, shaking her head, twisting her brows, and shrugging her shoulders, letting his words go in one ear and out the other. She pursed her lips and muttered inwardly—how could giving her own mother tonic medicine be a waste? No wonder this old man got scolded by his mother every day. He deserved it.
The moment Old Man Liu saw her expression, he knew his words had been wasted. He held out his hand, annoyed: "Let me see the goods."
Song Jin quickly handed them over, not wanting to hear another second of his nagging.
As for the history between the two, it went back ten years.
Back then, Niu Tielan's health was far worse than it was now. Once, she fell gravely ill with a cold, and Song Jin had sought help from many people to no avail. Just when it seemed she was on her last breath, Old Man Liu had stepped in and saved her life.
After that, Song Jin became very proactive in building relationships with people, following him around with sharp eyes and a sweet tongue, even seriously studying medicine under him for two years. She was so clever that Old Man Liu felt he had found a worthy successor. But once she felt the relationship was sufficient—
she ran off.
Ran off.
Old Man Liu was so furious his beard bristled and his eyes bulged. From then on, whenever he saw Song Jin, he'd shut the door. It wasn't until later, when she kept bringing precious medicinal herbs to his door and never completely abandoned her knowledge of pharmacology, that the two gradually reconciled.
This time was no different. After seeing the ginseng, deer antler, deer penis, and pangolin① shells she brought, Old Man Liu's sour expression gradually softened.
"Decent years, and the processing is passable. I'll give you eighty taels of silver for it."
Song Jin's face immediately lit up with joy: "Thank you, Doctor Liu, for your generosity!"
Old Man Liu scolded in annoyance: "You worthless girl."
Song Jin continued laughing and joking: "Hey, Old Man Liu, what are you saying? In this county town, even the magistrate and I can have a word or two. How am I worthless?"
Old Man Liu said crossly: "Get out, get out, get out. Take your silver and scram. Just looking at you makes me angry. Also, stay out of the mountains lately. More people have run into trouble up there this year than in past years."
Song Jin laughed heartily, gave a perfunctory response, and pulled a small pouch from her pocket, tossing it over.
Old Man Liu barely caught the pouch. When he opened it, inside were two pieces of fine musk, a full two taels in weight—its value went without saying. He was stunned into silence for a moment, and just as he was about to say something, Song Jin had already sprinted off on her long legs.
Old Man Liu quickly shouted after her: "You brat! Stay out of the mountains!"
"I know, I know."
Song Jin's thoughts flickered past and she didn't dwell on it. She waved her hand carelessly, skipped out of Huichun Hall, picked up Little Black, and continued toward the bookshop on the other side.
She still had to buy brush and ink for that boy and deliver them.
Tsk, scholars sure think highly of themselves.