Chapter 5
She did not retrace her steps, as that would require a long detour through the mountains. Dragging the wild boar through the forest for too long was unsafe. After climbing out of the valley, she descended the mountain directly; the main goal was to reach the road after exiting the forest.
After walking for about two hours, she finally arrived at the mountain path. Judging by her previous experience, if she turned right and walked for another half hour along this path, she would reach the town. Going home would take about an hour and a half.
She glanced at the sun's position; by modern standards, it was roughly noon.
Feeling somewhat hungry, she sat down and pulled out about a dozen wild sweet potatoes from her basket, eating them somewhat carelessly.
At the same time, she considered what to do with the boar.
She liked stockpiling food—having plenty of grain and meat gave her a sense of security. Deep down, she wanted to carry the boar home, slaughter it, and store the meat.
But her home lacked even a pot to scald the boar’s bristles with hot water. It was summer, so making cured meat risked spoilage; frying meat required a container, and they didn’t have a proper pan for frying either.
Besides, apart from sweet potatoes, the household was short of rice, flour—basically everything.
After pondering for a while, she reluctantly made up her mind to sell the boar in town.
She stood up, brushed off the dust, loaded the wild boar onto her basket again, secured it with vine straps, and headed toward the town.
By the time she reached the town, the butcher Sun was closing up, his meat sold out, though some customers still lingered, hoping to buy.
“It’s all sold out. Please come back tomorrow or the day after. I’m visiting relatives then, and will be back later,” Sun said.
He hadn’t slaughtered any pigs for several days. The family that usually supplied him had been robbed by bandits in the countryside; their adult pigs and piglets were all taken.
Now, he was traveling from village to village buying live pigs to slaughter. But this year’s drought left the fields barren, with barely any grass. The few piglets raised here and there were too small to yield much meat.
His excuse of visiting relatives tomorrow was really a cover for buying live pigs.
Jiang Li stood silently nearby, then raised her voice: “Brother, do you buy wild boars?”
Sun looked over, startled.
He saw something unbelievable—a woman, almost skin and bones, carrying a boar weighing about 150 to 160 pounds on her back.
Her hair was disheveled, her chest stained with dried blood. A black bow hung from her neck, and she held a machete with fresh blood on the blade.
He gasped and approached Jiang Li, circling her once before stopping in front of her.
“Miss, where did this boar come from?”
“Caught it in the mountains.”
“You hunted it yourself?”
Jiang Li nodded. “Brother, will you buy it?”
Sun Minfu stared at her, incredulous. Yet the fact remained: this frail-looking girl carried a boar on her back, her eyes resolute and tinged with cold determination.
He swallowed and said, “Yes, yes, miss, please come to the backyard.”
He then turned to the waiting customers and said, “Please wait a moment. I’ll get this boar processed right away.”
He asked Jiang Li, “Did you hunt this boar this morning?”
“Yes, early this morning. It took some time to descend the mountain and reach town.”
The customers relaxed upon hearing this. Freshly hunted meat meant it was effectively the day’s slaughter. Meat hunted the day before but not yet processed felt like old meat, something they could eat but felt cheated paying full price for.
Sun Minfu led Jiang Li to the backyard. Before she put down the boar, she asked, “Brother, what’s the price now?”
Sun chuckled awkwardly, looking at the boar on her back. “I won’t cheat you, young lady. Live pigs are priced by weight—eight wen per pound.”
Jiang Li recalled that earlier, meat had sold for thirty wen per pound.
Eight wen per pound for a live pig was a butcher’s lowball.
Her boar was already bled and well-fattened, so the meat yield would be good.
She thought to negotiate a higher price.
“Brother, look at this boar on my back. It’s quite fat, and I cleaned the blood in the mountains. It should weigh at least twenty pounds less after dressing. How about twelve wen per pound?”
Sun smiled. “Miss, live pigs really go for that price. But since you carried it all this way, I’ll raise it a bit—to nine wen.”
“Ten wen.”
Jiang Li spoke firmly. Sun paused, then slapped his thigh. “Alright, let’s weigh it.”
Jiang Li carried the boar to be weighed; it came in at 149 pounds.
Sun asked his wife Zhang Shi to bring the money.
“Miss, forty-nine qian per jin. Count it yourself.”
Jiang Li didn’t pretend she didn’t need to count. Sitting down, she stacked a hundred copper coins, then matched piles until all were counted.
“All correct. Thank you, madam.”
Zhang smiled. “Miss, your method is convenient.”
Jiang Li grinned, her lips dry and pale.
Looking at Sun preparing to scald the boar’s bristles with hot water, she offered, “Brother, let me help.”
Sun waved her off. “No need. Rest for a while.”
“I want to wait until you cut the meat, so I can bring some home,” she said, then started scraping the bristles.
The butcher’s knives were sharp and efficient, much better than the machete in her basket. Her movements were quick and skilled. With her help, the bristles were cleaned in no time. Sun handled the meat cutting.
The entrails were placed into a large iron pot. He asked Jiang Li, “Miss, which parts do you want me to cut first?”
“Three jin of pork fatback, and five jin of rib meat.”
Sun sliced precisely, the weight exact to the last qian.
Jiang Li admired his skill.
“You’ve got a steady hand.”
Sun laughed. “I’ve been slaughtering for nearly twenty years.”
Zhang counted the money: fatback at twenty-six wen per jin, pork belly at twenty-two wen. The total was one qian and eighty-eight wen.
They had given her a discount since she brought the boar herself. Normally, pork was expensive—thirty wen per jin for regular cuts, thirty-seven for fatback.
Jiang Li paid, and Zhang handed her a large bone. “Thank you for your help. If you hunt more pigs in the mountains, bring them here next time.”
Jiang Li accepted the bone.
That small amount of meat would have cost over two hundred wen if bought outright. Earning money was hard; spending it was easy.
She put the meat and bone into her basket, took out two wild chickens to carry, and followed the original owner’s memory straight to the grain shop.
The grain shop was small, with a few large jars filled to the brim with rice, wheat, millet, beans, and finely milled flour.
The shopkeeper lounged at the door, eyeing Jiang Li with a somewhat brusque tone. “Buying grain?”
Jiang Li didn’t mind and asked, “What’s the price now?”
“Millet fifty wen, wheat fifty-five, polished rice sixty-two, and flour also sixty-two.”
“Per dou?”
The shopkeeper chuckled lightly. “Of course, miss. You expect it to be per shi?”
“That’s so expensive.”
“Prices have gone up. They’ll keep rising.”
Jiang Li gasped, silently calculating. All the money she had earned today wouldn’t buy much grain.
Seeing her hesitate, the shopkeeper called out, “Miss, are you buying or not?”
“Yes,” she answered decisively, surprising him. He smiled broadly.
“What do you want? How much?”
“Two dou of millet, two dou of polished rice, one dou of flour.”
“Alright, that’s two hundred eighty-six wen.”
Before weighing, the shopkeeper quoted the price, and Jiang Li agreed. “Please weigh it.”
As she prepared to pay, the shopkeeper asked, “Miss, bring a bag for the grain.”
She was stunned.
Earlier, Zhang had packed her meat in a small cloth bag—did that mean she was given one? But she hadn’t brought a bag for grain.
The shopkeeper noticed her hesitation and smiled. “You didn’t bring a grain sack?”
“No, I didn’t expect to buy grain.”
He pointed across the street. “There’s a shop selling grain bags. You can buy one there.”
Knowing she’d need one eventually, Jiang Li thought it over and walked to the opposite shop.
The bags were pre-made linen sacks with tight stitching. The shopkeeper assured her, “Don’t worry, miss. Even if you fill it with fine flour, it won’t leak.”
“How much?”
“Ten wen each.”
Fabric was expensive now, but this sack couldn’t hold a hundred jin of grain. Ten wen was too much.
“Four wen,” Jiang Li bargained.
The shopkeeper took the bag back, seemingly reluctant to sell. Jiang Li sighed and turned to leave, thinking she could weave two bamboo baskets to carry grain tomorrow if needed.
“Miss, wait!”
She turned. The shopkeeper said, “Four wen it is. You can take it.”
The grain bag was brought over. She packed flour at the bottom, tied it off, added polished rice in the middle, tied again, then millet at the top.
The four-wen bag held about sixty jin of grain.
After buying grain, Jiang Li wanted a pot. Her home had only a clay pot, which was slow for cooking rice and left no pot for frying.
She certainly couldn’t afford an iron pot—the price of iron was outrageously high.
Carrying the grain, she went to a general store.
She bought a kettle, a basin, and a clay pot, spending one hundred thirty-six wen.
Her string of coins was already broken open.
This was what it meant to have an empty home: everything had to be bought.
Thinking of the meat in her basket, she decided to buy some seasoning from the pharmacy to make it tastier. After spending so much, she might as well eat well.
At the pharmacy, she bought only some Sichuan peppercorns.
What she really wanted was dried chili peppers, but neither the general store nor the pharmacy had any. She wondered if chilies had yet arrived in this area.
Leaving the pharmacy, she bought a small amount of white spirit and prepared to head home.
Walking a bit further, she saw a peddler carrying a pole, shouting to sell caramel candy at one wen per piece. Jiang Li thought of Xue Man and Xue Ning back home. She had broken her promise and not returned last night; she didn’t know if they had cried.
She quickly called out to the peddler and bought three pieces of caramel candy.
She wanted to try this pure handmade candy.
After buying the candy, Jiang Li didn’t dare delay any longer. Though the sun was still blazing, the journey was long, and by the time she reached home, it would likely be near dusk.