The letter ended, but Xie Yan lingered over it, glancing between the drawings and rereading the letter, suddenly curling his lips into a smile.
It was unmistakably Lu Yang’s style—like they were chatting face to face. The words didn’t matter, how the conversation began didn’t matter, nor did how it ended. They were simply exchanging casual remarks.
Living together, not every sentence needed weight; it was just ordinary life.
Holding the small sketch Lu Yang had traced, Xie Yan looked up at the portrait on the wall.
He saw the figure in the painting—and the figure seemed to look back at him.
On his second trip to the prefecture city, Lu Yang encountered rain, and the journey took longer.
After taking shelter, the roads were difficult—rutted and full of puddles. They had to push the cart hundreds of times.
The exhausting labor soon wore down the initial excitement they felt leaving the county seat. Seven men walked in heavy silence.
Lu Yang had hired an assistant, borrowed for the task. They treated him decently—there was a difference between doing things half-heartedly and doing them properly. The assistant wasn’t a strong laborer, so Lu Yang handled the heavier work himself.
No one expected him to push the cart anyway; everyone knew he was a scholar husband.
He avoided arguments, divided tasks with the others, and whenever they rested, he prepared the provisions. Any fire-making fell to him.
This slow, careful pace took ten full days to reach the prefecture—twice as long as traveling for the imperial exam.
They carried 2,000 jin of goods. Rough roads slowed their pace to avoid overturning the cart.
Upon arriving, Lu Yang didn’t go to Wu Pingzhi’s household to stay. He let the assistant lead the way and found an inn for lodging.
After the exams, the city was quieter. The streets were still busy but not crowded.
When booking rooms, Lu Yang and Li Feng lightly disputed. Since they were traveling together, Lu Yang didn’t want a separate room, suggesting they all stay upstairs; Li Feng said the group could take the back courtyard dormitory.
A single room could fit three people on the big dormitory beds, and they weren’t sure how long they’d stay. Wang Meng and San Miao agreed—just a tiled roof for shelter and a mat to lie on. They were used to roughing it outdoors; any savings helped the fledgling business.
Lu Yang offered: “If you need to bathe, come to my room.”
Dormitory occupants had no facilities for washing.
Though not ideal, Lu Yang didn’t mind—it was understood, and rumors could be avoided. Moreover, the borrowed assistant needed a proper room, so the rest could use his room to wash. Lu Yang weighed it and agreed.
On the first day, they bathed, ate, and rested. The next morning, they began deliveries house by house.
Three clients were easy to locate; all had storefronts, prearranged for payment on delivery.
Two itinerant merchants’ goods were stored at the Denggao building, payment collected from Boss Yu.
Receiving over 130 taels of silver settled their nerves.
Lu Yang didn’t come empty-handed—he left 10 taels for a banquet on June 21, from his own pocket, not the merchandise proceeds.
After deliveries, they explored the city. These mountain men were in awe; their numbers drew attention, so they split into two groups. Li Feng led Erjun and Si Hou with the assistant, while Lu Yang, knowing some streets, took Wang Meng and San Miao first to deliver a letter to Boss Ding, hoping to pull in more business.
The prefecture city’s prosperity far outstripped Sanshui County.
Wang Meng and San Miao were quiet, trailing Lu Yang like loyal bodyguards.
He explained that in the city, shops lined street after street. Even with similar businesses nearby, people could still eat their fill.
If they could grow the mushroom trade, other mountain products could follow, lifting not just them but the entire mountain village out of poverty.
The idea warmed their hearts and spurred effort.
Mountain hunters were used to competition—contesting hunting grounds, selling game, and defending clients. Without successful hunts or buyers, survival was difficult. Arguments broke out over territory and clients, especially when dealing with wealthy patrons, who watched for fights over a few coins with amusement.
The prefecture city was different. Inns lined every street. Strolling the streets, they saw endless stalls selling buns, cakes, and other pastries, with endless variety.
Wang Meng and San Miao had visited Lu Yang’s shop in the county; they knew the scale here couldn’t be matched.
Lu Yang explained: “Once the steamed bun business picks up, it drives the sale of other goods. One day, we can produce 20–30 baskets. See these small stalls? Just selling buns, they’re overwhelmed.”
Most inn guests were traveling merchants, often hungry. Accompanied by guards and assistants, a few buns could satisfy them, boosting sales.
Such goods were dry provisions, easily taken along for the journey; the docks brought a constant flow of people—and money.
After returning to the county, Lu Yang visited Old Master Wu.
Apparently, other prefecture cities weren’t as prosperous; those near the canal thrived more.
Lu Yang bought them buns; city buns cost one cash, sold for four at their shop.
Wang Meng, eating two in one bite, remarked frankly: “Master Lu, these buns aren’t as good as yours.”
San Miao, overhearing, widened his eyes.
On the trip, Lu Yang repeatedly told them: even if mistreated in the city, endure it.
A strong outsider can’t dominate a local—especially when they had no footing yet. They were in trial mode, learning humility.
San Miao nudged Wang Meng, who immediately shut up. Both watched Lu Yang.
He strolled on, unperturbed.
Even street vendors dared not provoke trouble. Arguments only invited risk; no one knew when they might hit a wall.
Lu Yang said: “If I set up a bun stall nearby, someone might come to smash it. But casual remarks about taste are harmless. Business flows steadily, and profits will come.”
Prefecture streets had a clear pattern: shops lined continuously.
In the county, only the funeral street near the charity house was similar.
Last time, Lu Yang explored the docks and a few bookshops, noting that bookstores clustered near academies. Many were associated with teachers who recommended students buy specific books.
Shops selling writing materials were also continuous.
Customers visiting one shop often visited another, their interest piqued without intention—just walking by could spark purchases.
