As the villagers listened to the young girl’s explanation, their eyes sparkled with excitement. Truthfully, only a few of them fully understood what she was saying—but they all grasped one important thing: this could be sold for money.
They paid close attention as she taught them how to dig up the kudzu roots properly.
Several strong young men took up machetes and hacked through the thick tangle of vines, trying to locate the main roots underneath. It was exhausting work that required both strength and patience.
The mountainside was covered in vines, and they had to search through the dense growth to find the roots below. The older vines were tough and suspended in the air, making them hard to cut—each swing of the blade caused the vines to snap back, leaving their arms sore from the strain.
But the thought of earning silver kept everyone motivated.
Kudzu roots grow deep to support the heavy vines, and the rocky yellow soil made digging even more difficult. Still, before long, fresh roots were being pulled out one after another.
Watching from the side, Su Muyao saw piles of kudzu roots forming on the ground—soon there were already three to five hundred jin.
She suddenly recalled something a college roommate once told her: in poorer rural areas, children had little in the way of snacks, so they would dig up kudzu roots, peel off the skin, and eat them raw.
At first, the taste was slightly bitter, but the more you chewed, the sweeter it became. It also helped quench thirst—making it one of the few treats children had.
Picking one up, she peeled it and took a bite.
When Su Sanlang turned back, he saw his little daughter happily munching away.
Seeing how much the little fortune star enjoyed it, the villagers also became curious and started tasting it themselves.
Soon, the entire patch had been dug up.
But as they looked at the hundreds of jin of roots piled on the ground, everyone began to hesitate.
Just as Su Muyao was about to lead them to find more herbs before heading back, an older woman asked hesitantly:
“Little fortune star… can this really be sold for money? It just looks like ordinary tree roots. It tastes a bit sweet, yes—but is it truly a medicinal herb?”
They all knew that some plant roots were naturally sweet, so their doubts were understandable.
A young man turned to the village head. “Village head, we’ve dug up so much already. How about we take some to the apothecary in town first and ask? Otherwise, we might have worked for nothing.”
The village head understood their concerns. Everyone had set aside their household work to come up the mountain and learn about herbs. Now, after digging up such a large amount of something they weren’t even sure about, it was only natural to feel uneasy.
After all, in their minds, medicinal herbs were rare and valuable—yet here they had harvested hundreds of jin in one go, which completely went against their expectations.
Once they came down the mountain, they tied all the kudzu roots onto a flatbed cart.
Seeing that everyone wanted to go to town together, the village head frowned.
“Listen, we can’t all go at once. How about this—we’ll choose six or seven people to go.”
“Village head, I’ll go! I’m good at bargaining!”
“Me too, I can go!”
With everyone volunteering, it became impossible to decide, so the village head simply pointed out a few people.
“Dazhuang, Tie Zhu’s father, Su Sanlang, and Old Liu—you come. And you two as well.”
Soon, the group began pushing the cart toward town.
At that moment, Su Muyao clung tightly to her father’s leg, refusing to be left behind.
“Father, can you take me with you? I’ve never been to town before—please take me!”
Unable to refuse his daughter, Old Master Su relented. In the end, Su Muyao sat comfortably atop the pile of kudzu roots.
Walking beside the cart, he kept his eyes on her the entire time, afraid she might fall.
When they finally arrived in town and saw the bustling streets, Su Muyao couldn’t help but marvel:
“So this is what ancient times look like.”
Su Sanlang didn’t quite catch what his daughter had just said.
“Sweetheart, what did you say? Were you calling me?”
“No, no, Father—I was just saying this place is really lively.”
Once they passed through the city gates, the difference was obvious. The people inside weren’t dressed in the same ragged clothes as those outside. Though most weren’t particularly well-off, their clothes weren’t patched over and over. Among the crowd, there were even quite a few well-dressed men strolling about.
They first stopped at a small clinic.
Seeing how modest it was, Su Muyao worried it wouldn’t be able to take in all their kudzu roots.
“Father, let’s find a bigger clinic. This one looks too small—they probably can’t buy all of it.”
“Alright. I remember there’s a place on West Street called Renyi Hall. The old doctor there is kind—when common folk come for medicine, he often substitutes cheaper herbs with ones just as effective. It’s a clinic many farming families trust.”
Before long, they arrived.
At the entrance, a shop assistant saw a group of sturdy men pushing a cart and immediately assumed trouble. He hurried inside to report.
“Shopkeeper! Something’s wrong—there are more than ten strong men outside. They don’t look friendly. What should we do?”
The old doctor frowned. He had spent his life treating people kindly and had made few enemies—why would anyone come looking for trouble?
“Finish preparing this patient’s medicine. I’ll go take a look.”
But when he stepped outside, he realized there was no trouble at all. The cart piled high with kudzu roots made it clear—they were here to sell medicinal herbs.
“Shopkeeper, do you buy herbs?” one of the men asked.
The old shopkeeper glanced at the speaker, then at the cart, and nodded. “We do.”
Only then did the villagers finally relax. Their earlier anxiety turned into excitement.
The shopkeeper continued, “I won’t hide it from you—we usually buy kudzu root at six wen per jin.”
“However, since you’re not regular suppliers, I can only offer five wen per jin.”
Hearing this, the villagers’ eyes widened.
Six wen per jin—how much grain would that equal?!
At that moment, Su Muyao spoke up, “Uncle Shopkeeper, we can bring you other herbs in the future too.”
“And look how fresh ours are. Others might take days to transport theirs to you.”
The shopkeeper heard the voice but couldn’t see the speaker at first. After looking around, he finally spotted the chubby little child standing nearby—barely a year old, yet surprisingly articulate.
He turned to the man beside her. “Is this your daughter?”
Su Sanlang quickly cupped his hands in greeting. “Yes, she just turned one this year.”
The shopkeeper nodded approvingly. “Very clever child. Since you’ve put it that way, I’ll pay you six wen per jin.”
Su Muyao immediately cheered, “Yay! Uncle Shopkeeper, you’re so kind! We’ll come back to you if we find more herbs!”
The old shopkeeper smiled, clearly pleased by her lively personality. “Alright, come visit again next time.”
Having decided to buy the entire batch, he called over two assistants to help unload and weigh the goods. In the end, the total came to 940 jin.
The shopkeeper worked his abacus swiftly. “940 jin at six wen per jin—that comes to 5,640 wen.”
The group gasped in unison.
5,640 copper coins—that was equivalent to over five taels of silver.
For an ordinary family, it would take three or four years of farming—without spending a single coin—to save that much. And yet, they had earned it in just about an hour.