The next day, Liu Datie was sent down the mountain by Chen Ji, just as they had agreed beforehand. Chen Ji planned to drop him off at Wujiang Village, the scenic spot where Liu Datie had been staying, and make a convenient stop in town to pick up some daily necessities—well, truthfully, to buy mushrooms.
It was the rainy season right now, the perfect time for mushrooms to sprout. Little Azure Mountain was vast, but Chen Ji was just one man with limited foraging skills. What he ate depended entirely on what he could find that day. Better to head to the market—even if things cost a bit more, a person had to live, right? Wasn’t life all about feeding that one mouth?
Back when his monthly salary was three thousand, he’d spend a thousand on food. If he earned ten thousand and still only spent a thousand, what was the point of all that hard work?
No sooner had he thought that than Chen Ji suffered a critical hit from his beloved little van—the engine wouldn’t turn over.
Liu Datie had been live-streaming nearby. When he saw the problem with the car, he hurried over. “Let me handle this! I’m a pro at fixing cars!”
Chen Ji blinked. “…Huh?”
Liu Datie popped open the hood and peered inside as he spoke. “Bro, how long has it been since you last drove this thing?”
Chen Ji thought for a moment before giving an uncertain answer. “Ten days or so?”
“Ah, that explains it—battery’s dead,” Liu Datie said. “Just need a jump start! No big deal, don’t worry!”
Chen Ji was about to say he didn’t have any tools handy and would ask the villagers to borrow some, but before he could, he watched in amazement as Liu Datie deftly pulled two wires from the tangle under the hood, touched them together, and the engine roared to life!
Chen Ji stared. “…?”
“Back to my old trade!” Liu Datie said with a cheeky grin. “Don’t let my current gig fool you—I used to be the Wu Yanzu of the repair shop!”
The live stream chat erupted in laughter.
{LOL, dying here—finally, the kid gets his chance to show off!}
{Senior Brother looks totally baffled.}
Chen Ji quickly accepted the setup, just like how the man had once been a programmer and was now a temple priest. Everyone had a past, after all. He chuckled. “So you’re the legendary Wu Yanzu. I must have had eyes but failed to see Mount Tai—my apologies.”
Liu Datie tossed his bangs dramatically and shot a flirtatious wink at the phone camera. “You got it—that’s me!”
The chat went wild with laughter, gifts raining down like confetti.
Liu Datie climbed into the passenger seat. Even after handing over more than a hundred thousand yuan, he had the good sense not to treat Chen Ji like a chauffeur. Chen Ji drove for over an hour before reaching Wujiang Village. Seeing the familiar scenery, Liu Datie felt a surprising twinge of emotion.
“Alright, bro, I’m off! Catch you later!” Liu Datie called, waving goodbye.
Chen Ji smiled and waved back before driving away. Not that there was anything wrong with Liu Datie, but with him gone, Chen Ji could finally breathe easy. It was hard for anyone to fully relax in front of someone who was constantly live-streaming to over a hundred thousand viewers.
Chen Ji lit a cigarette. The System Cat appeared silently in the passenger seat. It stretched out a leg to scratch behind its ear and yawned lazily. [Finally gone…]
It had been getting restless with Liu Datie around. After all, it was used to freedom on the mountain. One slip-up doing something cat-like, and the netizens—who weren’t like the clueless mountain demons—might guess all sorts of wild things. So it had kept its distance these past few days.
Chen Ji reached over to scratch the spot for it. [Yeah, I feel that too.]
[Speaking of which, you really not signing that contract?]
Chen Ji let out a soft chuckle and countered. [What do you think?]
From his tone, the System Cat knew he wouldn’t. It muttered, [I figured you’d string them along a bit…]
Even if he wasn’t going to agree, teasing their hopes would have been fun—like fooling the Mountain Lord back then.
[No need.] Chen Ji gazed at the road ahead. [Just like I said, if they want to negotiate something like that, they shouldn’t be talking to me.]
Thinking they could morally bind him with a single contract? Chen Ji couldn’t even be bothered to call them out on it.
Moral blackmail required the target to actually have morals in the first place. Someone like him had precious little to spare—barely scraping by as it was, where would extra morals come from?
If they managed to get the village committee’s approval, he was just a tenant. What did his opinion even matter? If the Mountain Lord wasn’t happy, they could just blow It up! It was only a rundown little temple—a few centuries old, sure, worth a bit as a cultural relic, but in that condition? Hardly top-tier. Blow it up if they dared. Hell, if they could actually take out the Mountain Lord, forget saving Yun Shaoyang and the other young masters—Chen Ji would kneel, kowtow, pour tea, whatever apology they wanted.
He truly wouldn’t mind.
The System Cat caught his train of thought and burst into hysterical laughter. [Why not blow yourself up? I think you totally could!]
[If I did it myself, I’d still die.] Chen Ji laughed too.
Not setting the mountain ablaze himself or leveling the peak wasn’t out of fear of dying—it was fear that the Mountain Lord would find out and use Its dying breath to take him down too.
Everything he did was to live well, not to go down in mutual destruction. Though if push came to shove with no other choice, mutual destruction would do.
Better than dying alone for nothing.
Before long, they reached the town. Chen Ji slung his bamboo basket over his back and headed straight to the second-floor mushroom trading market. He had a little trick up his sleeve: he didn’t look like a local mountain dweller, so vendors might jack up prices. But with a basket on his back, they’d know he was knowledgeable—not some clueless tourist ripe for fleecing.
Thanks to yesterday’s rain, the second floor was buzzing. Heads bobbed everywhere in the crowd. Chen Ji squeezed through and soon spotted his target. He leaned in and asked in the local dialect, “Uncle, how much for the dried boletus?”
Dried boletus looked like layered wood ear mushrooms—dry slices of wood, but with a uniquely intoxicating aroma. Even shoe insoles would smell divine stir-fried with them. Chen Ji hadn’t spotted any on the mountain, and this pile caught his eye immediately.
“Eight hundred a jin,” the old vendor replied, puffing on a cigarette. “Cheapest around here! Grab some, young fella? Perfect for fried rice or veggies—fragrant as hell!”
Chen Ji inspected it closely. The dried boletus was a bit overmature, too woody, and still had twigs and leaves attached—a clear sign it was overpriced tourist bait. He smiled politely and moved on deeper into the market.
He soon found another stall. The quality was decent overall, just fragmented from rough picking, looking a mess. Price was also eight hundred a jin. Chen Ji bought some—a palm-sized handful totaling just ninety yuan. Dry as it was with no moisture, how pricey could it really be? Back home, it’d flavor three or four meals of fried rice easy.
Satisfied with his purchase, Chen Ji felt refreshed body and soul. The System Cat lounged in the basket, scanning for more. [Chen Ji, over there! Yellow parasol mushrooms!]
Yellow parasol mushrooms—scientifically known as yellow-capped amanitas—were the kind that could lay you flat if you ate the wrong ones. But Y Province was a wondrous place: in some areas, thoroughly cooked ones were safe; in others, not even boiling helped. Vendors were scarce because of it.
Regular folks wouldn’t risk it, and locals who found them usually kept them for personal use. No one wanted liability if someone got sick.
Chen Ji pushed through to the stall. “Auntie, how much for the yellow parasol mushrooms?”
“One-twenty!” The woman rattled off the price instinctively, then glanced up at Chen Ji and waved him off. “Nah, not selling to you—go buy something else!”
“From Lugou?” Chen Ji asked casually at first, then switched to dialect.
The auntie looked surprised. “Yeah, Lugou! You’re local, huh? Alright then—gotta stew ’em for a full hour!”
Chen Ji examined them. Pristine quality: creamy yellow stems, golden caps freshly unfurled, intact feet, no worm holes. “A hundred even. I’ll take ’em all!”
They were tough to sell, so she agreed. Three mushrooms weighed in at two hundred forty yuan.
Chen Ji tucked the yellow parasol mushrooms into his basket and browsed the second floor until it was half full before heading down contentedly to buy vegetables on the first floor. Just as he started descending, someone called out, “Hey, young fella! Over here!”
Chen Ji had fully adapted to Little Azure Mountain life—accustomed to ignoring calls. He kept walking without turning. To his surprise, the man chased him down and blocked his path. Only then did Chen Ji point at himself. “Me?”
“Yeah, yeah!” The middle-aged man had a shifty, rat-like look. He leaned in close and whispered, “Want something fresh? I got the good stuff!”
The kind of stuff you weren’t supposed to sell—not hardcore illegal like drugs, but wild herbs that weren’t cleared for market.
Chen Ji’s interest piqued, and he followed. The man led him on a winding path behind the market to a narrow alley, pushed open a household door, and ushered him inside.
Chen Ji smelled medicinal herbs before even stepping in. Once inside, he took a closer look and couldn’t suppress a cough. The entire courtyard was piled high with drying Deer Immortal Grass!
Deer Immortal Grass resembled mushrooms in form but was overall reddish, sometimes with pale pinkish roots and stems. Its main use? Potency booster for yang and kidneys.
Seeing Chen Ji freeze, the man chuckled slyly. “Want some? Our Deer Immortal Grass is top-notch!” He flashed a thumbs-up and a knowing look that said it all.
The System Cat drawled, [Don’t tempt me—you with your yin overload and yang deficiency? A cup of Deer Immortal Grass wine daily would do wonders…]
Chen Ji fell silent. Undeterred, the man pressed on. “Come on, you’re here now! It works like a charm, and cheap too! Look at this quality—fresh off the mountain this morning. Thirty a jin—you won’t find better!”
Thirty a jin for that quality was a steal.
Composed as ever, Chen Ji asked, “Got anything else?”
“You bet!” The man’s energy surged. “Plenty more! Even picked some lingzhi today—come check it out!”
Chen Ji stepped into the inner courtyard. Sure enough, it brimmed with fresh wild herbs, roots still muddy and damp. He shelled out a good sum for everything he wanted. No helping it—the man needed tonics, might as well eat well.
He felt like he’d stripped his mountain patch bare.
As he headed out, the man saw him off. Pausing by the Deer Immortal Grass, Chen Ji said, “Give me five jin.”
“…Huh?” The middle-aged man blinked in confusion for a moment before breaking into a sleazy grin. “Sure thing, sure thing! I’ll pack it up for you right now!”
The middle-aged man even used a black opaque plastic bag to package it for Chen Ji.
Chen Ji: “…”
There was no explaining it. He gave up.
After paying, Chen Ji was just about to leave when the gate to the small courtyard swung open. A middle-aged man with dirt caked on his pant legs walked in, carrying two plastic woven bags. Something inside them seemed to be struggling.
The middle-aged man froze. While waving Chen Ji toward the exit, he called out, “Second Brother’s here? Come on in, come on in!”
Chen Ji didn’t budge. Instead, he asked, “What’s that good stuff? You selling it?”
Chen Ji had been a big spender today, snapping up quite a few pricey herbs. The middle-aged man paused for a few seconds at the question, then gritted his teeth. “You got it! Come inside and take a look!”
