Chapter Seventy-Four: Scenes from the Dog Market (Three chapters today—please keep reading)

Han Li received the other man's agreement and, feeling quite pleased, took out five pounds of rice from his basket to complete the transaction. Since the scabbard was so tattered it could no longer be used, Han Li temporarily tucked the knife into the back of his waistband and covered it with his shirt.

He then visited several other stalls, trading for sesame seeds, peanuts, and cornmeal before finally leaving the alley. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to replenish his free supplies—it was simply that the warehouse wasn’t located here. He had no time to linger in the county town, so once outside, he headed straight for the grove north of the city.

Han Li hurried along and soon arrived at the grove, where, notably, no one charged an entrance fee. Strictly speaking, however, it was a dog market; most people brought their family dogs here to exchange for goods. Occasionally, there were eggs and wild produce for sale, but prices were a bit steeper than at the official shop.

In these times, selling outright wasn’t advisable. If you took a fancy to something, you'd barter; even cash transactions happened strictly under the table. Whether or not one could afford to keep a dog here was another matter, but few households disliked dogs. Especially in the villages below the county town, having a dog at home could sometimes mean the difference between life and death.

Perhaps for these reasons, the place was bustling. People selling dogs, exchanging advice, gathering in groups of three or five—it was lively. Han Li wandered around but found no dogs that caught his eye; most were just puppies. The rest were adult dogs, mainly the local Northeastern hunting breed, commonly known as the “Northeast Big Fool Dog.”

This dog had a broad head—clear in outline but not exaggerated. Its ears were medium-sized, drooping, and lay close to the head, proportionate to the skull. The Northeast Big Fool Dog was robust, with fighting strength surpassing even the Asian wild wolf. Their bodies were broad, shoulder height often over fifty centimeters, and if well-fed, they easily grew to a hundred pounds or more.

They were loyal to their owners, honest and steadfast, and highly adaptable. The breed’s resistance to cold was remarkable; they could sleep naked outdoors in temperatures as low as minus twenty to thirty degrees Celsius. With some training, they made excellent guard or companion dogs—but only in these roles. Taking them mountain hunting required much more rigorous training.

Don’t believe the farmers’ exaggerated tales—these dogs before him weren’t necessarily ready for mountain hunts. A hunting dog needed careful training, at least a season spent in the mountains. Only after learning the necessary skills and surviving could it be considered barely qualified.

But such hunting dogs, like most people, grew more capable and more temperamental. Their personalities became fiercer and more distinct, and their loyalty to their owners intensified. If someone else tried to take over halfway, it would be extremely difficult to develop rapport, and mishandling could even result in injury.

Although Han Li knew basic Beast Mastery, it was currently limited to controlling smaller animals like sparrows, birds, and rabbits. As for larger animals, he could only lower their hostility without harming them. Han Li could buy two unknown dogs and was confident they wouldn’t bite him—but what about the neighbors? The villagers? Hurting others would be trouble.

No matter how well he got along with the villagers, he would always be considered an outsider in the event of an incident. With this in mind, he thought it better to look for a couple of puppies three or four months old. It would be easier, and he could raise them personally.

Just as Han Li was pondering whether to buy a puppy, he noticed an old man in the distance carrying a half-full burlap sack, looking a bit tense. His demeanor seemed to hint at having something good, but Han Li didn’t rush forward. His appearance and accent were obviously not local, and from his experience in the Shanghe Village, he guessed the locals wouldn’t trust these educated youths.

So, as he played with the puppies, Han Li kept an eye on the old man from the corner of his eye. There were plenty of sharp-eyed people in the market, and soon enough, an uncle walked over to speak with the old man. Han Li watched as they stepped aside, exchanged a few words, and the uncle handed over money. The old man took the cash and pulled a piece of pork out of the sack, leaving Han Li astonished.

Though he often ate meat, pork was something he hadn’t tasted for a long time. The uncle wrapped the meat in a cloth bag and left the scene. The old man, perhaps relieved after completing a sale, loosened up a bit, and Han Li seized the opportunity to inquire.

It turned out the old man had been gathering firewood in the mountains when, by chance, a wild boar fell from a cliff and died right in front of him. He’d intended to hand it over to the brigade, but with his eldest daughter-in-law about to give birth, he and his sons butchered the boar and came to town to trade a few pieces.

After hearing the story, Han Li looked at the old man earnestly, thinking he must be heaven’s chosen. Otherwise, how could he stumble upon something even rarer than waiting under a tree for a rabbit? But pork was indeed a delight.

Han Li traded two packets of brown sugar for four pieces of pork; since neither had a scale, neither bothered to weigh the goods. He estimated each piece weighed at least two pounds, meaning he’d acquired more than eight pounds of meat. His brown sugar was about the same weight, so neither got the better of the deal.

After the exchange, Han Li strode off with long legs. Once he reached a deserted spot, he broke down three of the pork pieces and stowed them away. The remaining piece was placed at the bottom of his basket, covered with cornmeal.

He then went to the supply and marketing cooperative to buy some biscuits and sponge cakes. Turning to leave, he stopped by the affiliated production materials company to purchase plastic sheeting, only to learn it required ration tickets.

Disappointed, Han Li was just leaving when someone followed him out. This person pulled Han Li aside, whispered for a while, and soon they struck a deal. Han Li paid an extra labor fee of one yuan and successfully bought a large roll of plastic sheeting.

With everything settled, it was time to reward himself at the state-run restaurant. Seeing he still had time, Han Li hurried over.

At this hour, state-run restaurants were quite imposing—the meal hours were fixed. Arrive early, and they wouldn’t sell to you; late, and you’d fare even worse. The chefs and waiters would sit around chatting, ignoring you, and if you dared to shout at them, you risked a beating.

Han Li arrived just after the lunch rush and saw that the menu board listed pork and green bean dumplings.

“One order of dumplings.”

Today, Han Li’s handsome face did him no favors; perhaps the waiter was simply exhausted after a busy morning. She lazily took his money and ticket, dispatched him with a curt “Wait here,” and that was that.

Thanks to the patrons for their rewards, and a humble request for continued reading and all kinds of votes.

Thanks to: Sui Feng for the reward of 500 points.
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Thanks to: Qing Leng Rainy Night for the reward of 100 book coins.