In another small bowl, she took a handful of pickled mountain vegetables from the jar—bracken ferns they had gathered days ago, now lightly sour and fragrant. She rinsed off excess salt, chopped them into pieces, and added a small spoon of chili oil made from lard-fried chili flakes. A couple of drops of sesame oil finished it.
A small dish of appetizing pickles was ready.
She set aside the dumpling soup to keep warm and covered the side dish.
Then she sat back down to wait.
Time moved slowly. Every sound outside made her heart tighten—but each time, it wasn’t him.
She looked at the flickering lamp and silently calculated: it had been about two hours since he left. He should… be coming back soon.
At that moment, more than ten miles away, at a remote village entrance:
Lu Zhanye crouched in the shadow of an old locust tree, his backpack beside him. He lit a cigarette but didn’t smoke it, letting it burn slowly between his fingers. The glowing tip pulsed in the darkness like a watchful eye.
Faint footsteps approached. He immediately stubbed out the cigarette and stood.
A short, stocky figure emerged from the dark, carrying a sack.
“Brother Ma,” Lu Zhanye greeted quietly.
“Mm.” The man handed over the sack. “Everything’s here. Five jin of cured meat you wanted set aside, two packs of pastries, one tin of malted milk powder, six apples, fifteen duck eggs. All ‘clean’ goods, just like you said.”
Lu Zhanye took the sack, weighed it, then pulled out money and vouchers from his waist pouch and counted them before handing them over. “Thanks, Brother Ma.”
“Don’t mention it.” The man took the money. “I’m off.”
They separated quickly.
Lu Zhanye emptied the sack into his backpack and covered it with old clothes, then set off again.
The next stop was five miles away at a riverbank. He walked fast but steady, sticking to the shadows. The night wind was cold, slicing across his face like fine needles, yet sweat still formed on his forehead—not from exhaustion, but tension.
He had been doing this for years. Every trip required nerves stretched tight like a wire.
At the agreed spot by a large rock, someone was already waiting.
“Brother Lu,” a young voice called.
“The goods are here,” Lu Zhanye said, setting down his backpack and taking out the items—everything in high demand in the city.
The young man quickly checked and paid. The transaction took only minutes; neither spoke much.
Lu Zhanye put the money away. Now the backpack held only the portion he kept for his own home.
He headed back along the riverbank. His steps were lighter than before. After costs, he had earned twenty-five yuan tonight. Not a fortune, but not little either. More importantly, he had exchanged for things that were hard to buy otherwise.
He needed to get home quickly. Lin Wan might still be waiting.
Thinking of her, his pace quickened again.