Immortal Path Space

As the sun descended in the western sky, a slender figure walked along a narrow path in the mountains. Two bloodstains marked the face, likely scratches from the thorns on the mountain. The faded indigo hemp garment, mended in numerous places, showed signs of wear, with frayed threads dangling from the cuffs. The shoes were worn to the point where the big toes peeked through. Carrying a large bamboo basket on the back, filled with various herbs from the mountains.

The young boy was called Er Gou Zi, originally named Wang Hong, a villager from Wang's family. In Wang's village, no one could read or write. Even his name was acquired by spending ten coins to invite a fortune-telling Taoist from the town. Adults thought that a humble name would make life easier, so they commonly referred to him as Er Gou Zi.

The village also had a plethora of names for dogs, pigs, and cows. There were six dogs with the name "Dog," and Wang Hong ranked second, hence known as Er Gou Zi. He felt satisfied with his nickname, much preferable to those names like "Cow Dung Pile" and "Tapeworm."

Wang Hong, twelve years old this year, lost his mother at the age of five. His father, who ventured into the mountains last spring, never returned. According to the village elders, he encountered a wolf pack and met his demise within the jaws of the wolves.

Left behind were Wang Hong and his eight-year-old brother, Wang Yi, nicknamed Si Gou Zi. While their father was alive, he leased ten acres of land from the Wang family. Life was somewhat manageable.

However, after their father's death, the Wang family decided to reclaim the land, fearing that the young brothers wouldn't manage it well or pay the rent. In this area where people were many and land was scarce, there were plenty of hands willing to help with the farming.

As for hunting in the mountains, no one was willing to take him along, fearing that he would be a burden. Chasing after wild beasts, they might end up as the prey of the mountain creatures.

With no other option, Wang Hong could only gather herbs in the relatively safe areas around the Misty Cloud Mountain and sell them in the town's herbal shops for a few copper coins.

His younger brother spent his days wandering the fields, collecting wild vegetables, gathering firewood, and taking care of chores.

Er Gou Zi calculated his gains for the day as he walked. Today's luck was particularly bad; after a whole day in the mountains, he only managed to gather a handful of Lonicera japonica, half a unit of Pinellia ternata, and some wild chrysanthemums, mugwort, and wind-chasing vines. All these herbs combined would fetch at most two coins.

Additionally, he found three bird eggs the size of three fingers and a handful of wild fruits.

While the outskirts of the mountain were safer, devoid of large wild beasts, valuable items were already scarce due to repeated searches by the locals.

At the foot of the mountain, smoke rose from the Wang family village, and a few children played at the entrance. Wang's village, with just a few dozen households, consisted mainly of tenants of the Wang family in the town. They made a living by farming and supplemented their income by hunting and gathering herbs during the off-season.

In prosperous times, they could just about manage to sustain themselves. However, during lean years, selling sons and daughters was not unheard of.

From a distance, a seven or eight-year-old child was carefully selecting wild vegetables at the entrance. He meticulously shook off the dirt from each plant, plucking the leaves one by one, discarding those damaged by insects.

Wang Hong approached him stealthily, and before the boy could notice, he shouted, "Ah!" Startled, the boy sat down on the ground, and upon recognizing Wang Hong, he angrily smeared the mud from his hands onto Wang Hong.

Chasing after Wang Hong in a fit, once the younger brother vented his anger, Wang Hong took out a small package wrapped in leaves from the bamboo basket, carefully sewn together with grass stems.

"Younger brother, guess what this is?"

Wang Yi's eyes lit up as he snatched it away, saying, "Consider this compensation for scaring me."

Carefully unwrapping it, he revealed a type of raspberry, with beads the size of small grains of rice clustered together, forming a thumb-sized, ripe, jet-black fruit. Sweet with a hint of tartness, it was Wang Yi's favorite.

"Wow, so many tree buds! Today, I also found a lot of wild vegetables." The younger brother smiled, squinting his eyes into thin slits, and tossed a few into his mouth.

"Mmm... delicious!"

He grabbed a handful and stuffed them into Wang Yi's mouth.

“I found several raspberry bushes in the mountains, and there are many more that haven't ripened on the trees. I'll pick them in a couple of days. Take them and eat. I'm going to cook.”

Wang Hong scooped up a handful of rice, added a large amount of water to the pot, and, as it boiled, stirred it slowly with a wooden spoon.

His younger brother helped with the fire on the side, occasionally stuffing a few raspberries into his mouth and, from time to time, offering some to Wang Hong.

After half an hour, when the water and rice in the pot had completely blended into a thick-looking white porridge, shredded wild vegetables were added. Then, three bird eggs were cracked into it. Using chopsticks, Wang Hong gently stirred, revealing green leaves and strands of egg flower floating in the fragrant and enticing wild vegetable and egg flower porridge. Two large bowls were filled, and the brothers sat on the doorstep, slurping it up.

As night fell and Wang Hong watched his younger brother sleep peacefully beside him, he found himself sleepless. Since their father's death last year, he relied on going to the mountains daily to gather herbs and sell them to the town's herbal shop to barely sustain their livelihood.

Often, they would go without a meal after one. The events of last winter were still fresh in his memory. The heavy snow closed the mountain for two months, the land covered in a vast expanse of white, with no food in sight.

The brothers had to dig into the snow, searching for roots and grass to fill their stomachs. They often woke up hungry in the middle of the night. Fortunately, they managed to catch a wild rabbit, and with the grass roots, they endured the last ten days. Winter was approaching again, and the younger brother had dried over twenty batches of wild vegetables. These needed to last until the new vegetables could be harvested in the spring, but there was still a shortfall.

After a year of frugality, they had saved up over twenty coins, barely enough to buy a little over two catties of rice. It seemed they would have to venture deeper into the mountains tomorrow.

In truth, the Misty Cloud Mountain had some precious herbs deep within. Last year, Wang Lao Qi found a ten-year-old ginseng, selling it for four taels of silver.

Considering that one tael of silver equaled one guan (a traditional unit of currency) or a thousand wen (a smaller unit), two taels of silver would be enough for the brothers to live on for a year.

However, the mountains were full of wild beasts. Usually, even hunters needed a group of five or six people to dare to enter the mountains, and even then, casualties occurred from time to time. It seemed more sensible to take a chance in the deep mountains than wait at home for an uncertain fate.

The next morning, Er Gou Zi packed up, took a bannock, a hunting knife, and, stepping on dew, headed into the mountains.

After traversing more than ten li into the depths of the Cangyun, towering ancient trees and giant trees the size of several people hugging were everywhere. The ground was covered with thorns, tearing apart Wang Hong's clothes and trousers in several places.

Wang Hong held a long stick to clear the way, pushing aside the thorns blocking the path and carefully scanning the surroundings. Suddenly, a look of joy appeared on his face. Following his gaze, a small clump of green plants could be seen not far to the left. Its stem resembled a pen, covered with small white flowers, and the leaves grew in pairs, resembling bamboo leaves.

"Ha! Ha! Ha! So many Astragalus." Saying this, he took out a small hoe and carefully dug. After a while, a total of thirteen Astragalus plants were gathered, one of which was eight years old, and two were six years old, with the rest ranging from three to five years.

There were also some small seedlings left for others. This was an unwritten rule among herb gatherers: take the big, leave the small. After gathering ginseng, they would scatter some ginseng seeds in the vicinity. If it had roots, they would leave some small stems in the soil; if it had vines, they would leave some vines. If everyone used a destructive method of harvesting, these precious herbs would have long been extinct.

Later, he found several less valuable herbs, a Wild Walnuts tree, and picked up twenty or thirty Wild Walnuts. Walnuts wouldn't spoil and could be saved to eat during winter.

Now, Wang Hong spotted a kudzu root, vigorously digging with its butt sticking out. Kudzu root could be eaten raw, sweet with a bit of crunch, satisfying thirst. Tear off a small strip, put it in your mouth, and chew on it happily. Kudzu root could also be boiled, tasting somewhat like cooked yam, very filling. It could be sold as a herb for money too.

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