Chapter 17: Entering the Mountains

As night deepened, Tong Chuxue no longer wished to linger with them, and the two families parted on unpleasant terms.

Holding the old hen in her hands, Tong Chuxue hummed a cheerful tune. Soon, they would have fresh eggs to eat. She had been busy organizing the entire residence recently and hadn’t paid proper attention to her own health. Now was the time to start nurturing herself.

The original owner of this body had long suffered abuse in the Tong household—always hungry, never warm. Though fifteen years old, she looked no older than twelve or thirteen: gaunt and withered, her arms and legs beneath the clothes resembling withered tree branches, mere skin stretched over bone.

Yet, these changes were not difficult to reverse. With proper nutrition, within a year she could fully restore her health.

At dawn the next day, Tong Chuxue waited at the entrance to the back mountain path, carrying a bamboo basket, expecting the Luo family.

Soon, she saw Luo Hui’an leading his younger siblings forward. The two little ones clutched small shovels, while Luo Hui’an carried a basket slightly larger than Tong Chuxue’s.

“Good morning, sister!” Luo Huifeng greeted her enthusiastically.

“Good morning. Qing’er came too,” Tong Chuxue said, patting the children’s heads.

“Big brother is here as well,” Luo Huifeng pulled Luo Hui’an over.

Tong Chuxue smiled; Luo Hui’an was a grown person—there was no way she could miss him.

Luo Huifeng was thrilled to be in the mountains, crouching down to poke at the ground with his little shovel. Unfortunately, he didn’t recognize any of the plants and turned to Luo Hui’an for help. “Big brother, you said some wild herbs can be sold for money. Where are they?”

Luo Huiqing teased, “You don’t know anything but still run up the mountain every few days.”

Luo Hui’an came over, took the shovel from Luo Huifeng, and patiently taught the two little ones to identify medicinal herbs. He explained their appearance, growth habits, and what ailments they could treat.

Tong Chuxue listened in amazement. “How do you know so much?”

Luo Hui’an returned the shovel to his brother and said lightly, “A long illness makes one a doctor.”

Tong Chuxue awkwardly scratched her nose and turned to start digging herbs, feeling as if she had inadvertently opened old wounds.

Along the way, they filled their baskets with quite a number of items. The herbs were light, so even when piled full, their load wasn’t heavy.

But to Tong Chuxue, this was far from satisfying. The baskets contained only common herbs—plantain, wild chrysanthemum, poria, balloon flower root—items that could sell but wouldn’t bring much profit.

Luo Hui’an was familiar with the path, leading the way deeper into the forest.

Tong Chuxue noticed that Luo Hui’an’s health seemed fairly good these days. Though he was slightly out of breath from hiking, his complexion was rosy, and his steps were steady and strong.

At noon, Luo Hui’an stopped, but Tong Chuxue wanted to press further inside. “Not going any deeper?”

“We can’t go further. It’s too dangerous,” Luo Hui’an said.

Tong Chuxue looked at the dense forest ahead, reluctant to give up. Usually, the deeper into the mountains, the better the resources. She had been observing the environment carefully and judged it ideal for growing dendrobium.

Dendrobium is known to benefit the stomach, generate fluids, nourish yin, and clear heat. It’s often used to treat stomach yin deficiency and heat injuring the fluids. Particularly, the iron-clad dendrobium is hailed as the “holy herb of nourishing yin.” Wild iron-clad dendrobium is extremely demanding of its environment and cannot be found easily. If she could find even one plant to transplant and cultivate on a large scale, both she and Xu Jinniang would have their futures secured.

But this herb grows at high altitudes, so one must venture deep into the mountains to find it.

She glanced at the Luo family resting on the ground. “Why don’t you rest here? I want to explore a bit further.”

They had already reached a relatively deep place today. Beyond this point were areas even Luo Hui’an hadn’t dared to enter. He immediately objected: “No, the deep mountains are full of dangers. You can’t risk your life.”

Tong Chuxue understood this well. But relying solely on the herbs along the path wouldn’t yield much money, which didn’t fit her plan for a one-time, lasting solution.

“It’s only noon. I’ll just go a little further ahead. I won’t go far. Nothing will happen.”

But Luo Hui’an saw through her thoughts at once. “No.”

He stood before her, his expression graver than ever, radiating an unspoken pressure.

Tong Chuxue knew that if she insisted on going deeper, the Luo family would forcibly stop her.

No matter. Having come this far, she had memorized the mountain paths. She would find a time to come alone.

“Fine… fine, I won’t go,” she said, feigning great regret. “Alright, let’s head back.”

She led the way back, unaware that Luo Hui’an’s gaze lingered on her as she walked.

The old Luo family house.

Xu Jinniang hadn’t expected Tong Chuxue to return with such a bountiful harvest—a large basket full of herbs. But she knew little about medicinal herbs. “Chuxue, can these things really be sold for money?”

“Of course,” Tong Chuxue smiled. “Do you think I’d lie?”

She planned to spend the remaining time at home sorting the herbs carefully, then take them to a pharmacy in the county the next day to sell. She also intended to buy things needed for the new home.

However, digging herbs today had already consumed much time. By the time Tong Chuxue finished sorting them, the sun had sunk halfway down the mountain.

Looking up, she saw Xu Jinniang carrying two scoops of water, apparently preparing to cook.

“Mother, let me help!” Tong Chuxue ran over, took the water from her hands, and volunteered to cook.

At midnight.

Tong Chuxue sneaked alone to the entrance of the back mountain. In the darkness, she took out a tinderbox, struck a flame, and moved behind a thick old tree. She pushed aside the grass and retrieved a torch.

She had deliberately left it there that morning when no one was paying attention.

During the day, too many people were around for her to venture into the mountain, but at night, when all was quiet, no one could restrain her.

Lighting the torch, she followed the path she had taken earlier, venturing deeper into the forest without looking back.

Iron-clad dendrobium demands extremely specific growing conditions. Many had tried to transplant and cultivate it, but success rates were low. Even when artificially grown, the medicinal effects didn’t match those of wild plants. Thus, wild iron-clad dendrobium remained highly sought after in the market.

But the difficulties that stymied cultivation were no problem for Tong Chuxue, a wood-element psychic. With just one plant, she could cultivate iron-clad dendrobium at home with quality equal to wild specimens.

Relying on just this alone, she could live without worry.

The thought thrilled her.

In high spirits, Tong Chuxue waved the torch about, enjoying her little moment of reckless freedom deep in the mountain, where no one could see her.