Li Feng suddenly realized something and mentioned the large stone trough used for roasting longans to Lu Liu.
“That huge stone trough is excellent at insulation. Even when the fire is blazing, the contents in the pan barely heat up. Longans have shells, are round and easy to stir-fry. Mushrooms, however, are delicate—if you’re not careful, you crush them. Stir-frying won’t work; you have to roast them slowly.”
But where would one get such massive stone slabs? Excavating from the mountains would be exhausting.
After calculating, sunlight drying was still the most practical.
He could continue to pick a plot for a drying field, set up long sheds, hire a few people to watch over it, lay out the mushrooms on sunny days, and cover them with bamboo hats when it rained.
During prolonged rain, the mushrooms could be moved into the long sheds. This way, costs were low, and the setup could be used quickly—nothing would go to waste this year.
The land at the foot of the mountain wasn’t ideal. He thought of finding a spacious spot in the new village.
Such a drying field would need an outer wall, like other workshops, fenced off to keep out passersby.
They would also need to build a few rooms: for people to stay overnight, for storage, and a kitchen with a stove.
He had a clear idea of labor costs. If the brothers helped, they could dig yellow soil, make mud bricks, and sun-dry them while the weather was good. They’d also select good timber from the mountains for beams, and the roof would be a grass shelter.
Using these three materials would be economical, allowing the drying field to be completed for under fifteen taels of silver.
Many items were needed: hundreds of winnowing baskets, hundreds of bamboo rain hats—which took up space.
He planned to make wooden racks to elevate the baskets, temporarily using bamboo mats. Later, with more money, they could gradually replace them with more durable materials.
After dinner, Lu Liu brought out an abacus and paper. Li Feng did the calculations while their mother and Shun’er listened, occasionally asking questions.
Chen Guizhi said, “Some money shouldn’t be saved. A bit should slip through your fingers so the villagers see you prospering—they’ll benefit too. Otherwise, your venture won’t last.”
In earlier years, Chen Guizhi did business for small earnings and had three children to support—people envied her.
Now the situation was different. Li Feng could support the household; ordinary people wouldn’t dare interfere. With a capable elder brother backing him, the villagers could earn some money without conflicts.
Small earnings weren’t enough. If they wanted to root themselves here, relying on this mountain for sustenance, they should earn more over time—and help others get fed too. Most people were good; only a few tricky ones would fail.
Li Feng thought: “Then we hire someone for the mud bricks, someone to carry the beams, bamboo mats woven in the village, baskets bought locally. All small tasks they can do. That should cost about fifteen taels.”
He could afford the doubled budget.
Lu Liu said, “This is a joint venture. We don’t need to pay everything ourselves. Let’s keep accounts so next time we meet, we can discuss it.”
Divided equally, each family’s contribution would be small.
Li Feng recalculated: the cost of the drying field could be split according to profit share. Those who earned more contributed more, those who earned less, less. This way, the brothers would feel fair.
Otherwise, earning a little silver, paying for repairs and the building, would leave them drained. Money wouldn’t even stay warm in their hands.
After discussing these plans, they each washed up and rested.
Li Feng had strong stamina; a day of hard work was nothing.
By summer, he couldn’t even wear long-sleeved clothes. He wore just a vest, often leaving it unbuttoned, showing off his impressive muscles—broad chest, big arms.
Exposed like this, the crops seemed to ‘bite’ him, leaving small scratches all over.
Lu Liu applied ointment, worried, and urged him to wear long sleeves.
“Everyone else works like this during wheat harvest. But look at your arms! Doesn’t it hurt?”
Li Feng said he’d wear them tomorrow. He just felt too hot.
Lu Liu used mountain survival logic to scold him gently: “Who says you should never expose your skin in the mountains? Bugs, snakes—they can bite from anywhere. Wheat fields all around you—don’t you care? Crops won’t bite you, right? That’s intentional.”
Li Feng chuckled at the rambling.
“Yes, I know crops won’t bite. I’m doing it on purpose.”
Lu Liu pointed at his arms: “Have you heard the saying? A dog that bites doesn’t bark. So a dangerous crop won’t warn you either.”
Li Feng laughed heartily: “Then what about Erhuang? Did he warn anyone?”
Speaking of Erhuang, Lu Liu was still thinking about the little puppy.
“When are we bringing him home? My brother has moved. You should take the puppy to him; he already picked a name.”
Since his brother wasn’t yet expecting, raising a puppy was a way to pass the time.
Li Feng remembered: after the wheat harvest, he’d go to the county.
He would also head to the prefectural city.
Xie Yan would start attending lessons at the academy. Li Feng would bring him back next month.
Lu Liu paused, speechless for a moment. With so few people in the Xie family, who would care for Xie Yan in the prefectural city?
Li Feng said, “He goes once per quarter. That’s roughly every two months—studying for one month, then back.”
After applying ointment, Lu Liu sat dazed on the kang for a while and asked, “Da Feng, can I go with you to the county? I want to accompany my brother.”
Li Feng had to go to the prefectural city as well. At home, he could help.
During this time, mushrooms would be fewer. He usually only did minor chores. Jiu’er visited daily, Shun’er stayed home, and the household managed.
Only the chickens and rabbits were a bit troublesome; missing a meal wasn’t an option.
Lu Liu would go once, return when Li Feng came back.
Li Feng agreed.
“Okay, I’ll talk to mother tomorrow.”
Deciding to stay in the county for a while, Lu Liu felt guilty, like he was leaving all the chores to his mother and brother. During the day, he was always busy: running east, then west. When Yao Fulang came to visit, he’d still be cleaning jars in the shop while talking.
Only when mother called would he pause.
Chen Guizhi made him a waist cushion to take along. She reminded him to note everything he needed so packing for the county would be easier.
Lu Liu listened but wasn’t very eager to go.
Being pregnant, visiting relatives was inconvenient.
Chen Guizhi insisted: “This month is the right time. Later, it will be too risky. Passing through Lujiatun, you should at least go home to see them—the mountain roads are far, and meeting is difficult.”
Lu Liu felt touched, following her like a little chick.
“Mother, you’re so kind! You’re the best mother-in-law in the world! You’re practically my own mother—I’ll call you that from now on!”
Chen Guizhi felt her teeth ache from the flattery. Seeing Shun’er secretly laughing, she called the child over, letting him stay in the shop with Lu Liu—out of sight, out of mind.
Lu Liu worried about the puppies. That very night, Li Feng brought the two pups home.
The mother dog was black on the back and white on the belly, now as long as an arm, lively and playful, knowing basic commands, though feeding still required guidance.
The male dog Lu Yang would raise had mixed fur: irregular black patches, with some yellow and white spots on the back, mostly yellow elsewhere, white belly, black legs, black head with tiny white spots on the ears. The coloring was chaotic, but his temperament was clingy.
Lu Liu watched them and said to Li Feng, “It’s really hard to predict how puppies will turn out.”
The mother dog was fine, fairly pretty.
The male dog, however… had inherited the flaws of both parents. Sigh.
