Lu Liu, being shorter, disappeared into the reeds, completely cut off from the outside world. Opening his eyes, all he could see was Li Feng—alive, moving, speaking—and he listened to every word.
After weaving through the reeds for a while, he finally found a duck egg.
Lu Liu could hardly believe it. Tiny down feathers from the duck still clung to the egg!
“Duck egg! Da Feng! Da Feng! A duck egg!”
Excited, he crouched to pick it up, and noticed another tucked in a gap between the reed stalks.
After collecting these two, he wandered around a bit more and found three additional eggs nearby. In total, he had five duck eggs.
They were large, so he could only hold three at a time. He asked Li Feng to help place them in the basket, separating them with reed leaves.
He searched a bit further, but leaving that patch of reeds and approaching the small river, he found no more eggs.
Two wooden rafts floated in the river. Shun was on one, playing with three friends. The four of them had scoured the reed marsh along the water, some using nets to catch a few small fish.
Lu Liu couldn’t stand the smell of fish, so when Shun divided their haul, he skipped the fish and took extra water caltrops. These could be eaten raw or boiled.
There were no water caltrop fields nearby; only a limited number grew each year. People picked modestly to leave some for those coming later.
Shun gathered just over three jin of water caltrops. After disembarking, he went home with his brother and sister-in-law.
Lu Liu sat close behind him on the cart, showing the duck eggs in his basket.
“We found five! Da Feng said fewer people were over there, and we found them in no time!”
Shun, surprised, asked where: “We searched over on the wasteland side and didn’t find a single one.”
Pointing vaguely in the direction, Lu Liu saw Shun still didn’t know the exact spot—they were just envious. “Even though I come every year, I’ve only ever found two or three eggs.”
Lu Liu froze. “Ah, it’s really that hard to find them?”
He had thought Li Village was abundant with wild foods.
Shun nodded. “Yes, very hard. Ducks aren’t plentiful, local children come often, and even some little ducks get eaten. Finding duck eggs is just luck.”
Lu Liu blinked. Then how did he find so many?
Li Feng explained, “Every year is tough. Everyone knows that. Maybe fewer people searched this year. We found them tucked behind the reeds—casually scanning, you wouldn’t even notice.”
Lu Liu understood. He looked at Shun, who nodded in agreement: “Right, we just brushed through the reeds, barely looking closely in that patch.”
Lu Liu brightened. Their luck had been incredible!
Making salted duck eggs took time. Lu Liu had tried twice at home using a water-salt solution—dissolving salt in water and soaking the eggs.
Shun, however, usually dug up yellow clay from the mountain base and coated the eggs in it.
Lu Liu hadn’t tried this method and wanted to learn. He thought it would save salt, but the clay also had to be mixed into a slurry with salt dissolved.
Just like when he had tried smoking bacon before—there was no way to actually save salt.
Sigh. Delicious things couldn’t be made cheaper.
They also brought back over three jin of water caltrops, washed them, and boiled them.
The shells were tough, but with strong hands, they could snap the horn-shaped exteriors to reveal tender white flesh—fragrant and sticky.
Seeing it was still early, Lu Liu peeled and ate while setting aside two bowls: one for his mother and Jiug’er, and one to take to Yao’s husband.
Mushroom picking had to be done early; their household was busiest in the morning.
By afternoon, things slowed. Chen Jiu helped sort mushrooms, grading them by quality. With hands free, they could do sewing or other handiwork.
Chen Guizhi, now with helpers, also had some free time. She’d worked her whole life and couldn’t sit idle, so she made fans from fresh cattail reeds.
Fresh cattail fans were green, strong, and durable, gradually turning yellow with use. The breeze smelled faintly of grass.
Farming households needed diligence; every bit of effort counted toward the harvest.
Lu Liu had spent half the day playing outside. At Yao’s husband’s place, he told again about finding salted duck eggs, then returned home to cook.
Reeds could also provide reed shoots, slightly bitter, usually blanched to remove bitterness. Their household had enough shoots, so they just picked a handful, peeled, boiled, and chopped them for stir-fry.
Near the reeds, they could also find water celery and wild amaranth. At this season, these treasures were everywhere, much to Lu Liu’s delight.
Vegetables in the field were plentiful; cucumbers had sprouted. With other vegetables available, he’d eat cucumbers raw.
Fresh cucumbers were juicy and crisp, not overly sweet, but impossible to stop eating.
These surplus foods could also be taken to the county to sell.
The next day, Li Feng packed one basket with chives, cucumbers, and green beans, another with wild amaranth and water celery. He temporarily set aside the shoots.
On top of the bamboo baskets, he added two large bags of wild mushrooms and a big bundle of reed and oak leaves for potential zongzi sales at Lu Yang’s.
His mother had recently woven a few fans; these could be brought along too.
These fans weren’t for sale—just for Lu Yang’s use. Summer was approaching; fans were always in hand.
Lu Liu had also sun-dried some soap pods and packed them. Useful for washing hands or clothes.
Li Feng’s cart had been exchanged with Lu Yang, so it was larger. He added a few bundles of mugwort, used for Dragon Boat Festival window and door decorations. Wild game was left behind—it couldn’t be sold.
At the start of the month, Da Qiang went out to deliver firewood to Boss Ding, taking Lu Liu along.
With them gone, Wang Meng and San Miao were left alone. Li Feng posted a notice to gather brothers for wine, so they went to meet Er Jun and Si Hou, planning a hike into the mountains.
All men in the new village were busy with planting; what did idlers like them have to do?
The four of them went together. Missing one or two hunting dogs was no issue.
They planned to venture deeper. San Miao’s hunting ground was adjacent to their newly opened one, which he hadn’t visited this year.
It was bound to have plenty of good game; they just needed to return for wine before Dragon Boat Festival.
All were experienced in mountain hunting, ready to act quickly.
Having arranged to go together, they didn’t rise early. After lunch, each packed their gear and headed to the mountains.
Lu Liu saw them leaving and asked casually. Wang Meng and San Miao, familiar with him, laughed: “We’ll check San Miao’s hunting grounds for good stuff. It’s far, mushrooms are untouched, and we’ve brought many sacks—don’t complain if the quality isn’t perfect!”
Lu Liu chatted cheerfully, watched them go, and felt a pang in his heart.
Li Feng had high standing among young hunters; a call from him drew many followers. Many wanted to explore the deeper mountains with him.
After marriage, Li Feng mostly stayed at the mountain entrance, venturing far only for wild pigs. He hadn’t visited the hunting grounds he had painstakingly opened. Lu Liu wondered if he felt frustrated.
On sunny days, fewer people picked mushrooms. At home, Lu Liu also wove fans.
Sitting beside his mother, he couldn’t keep his thoughts in and asked about hunting. Worried about his constant fretting, he might hold Li Feng back.
Chen Guizhi said she couldn’t fully explain. A grown son could keep secrets. She knew children, but couldn’t read their minds completely. She only said:
“Da Feng is a responsible boy. Going into the mountains before, there was no choice—without his effort, our family couldn’t manage. Now he has other pursuits, keeps busy, earns money, and goes less often. If you really worry, ask him yourself.”
Li Feng had told Lu Liu the same thing.
