Zhao Xuan packed the game into a hemp sack, prepared two flasks of water, and made sure to bring his woodcutter's knife and bow and arrow for self-defense.
The times were turbulent, and bandits often roamed the area.
Those scoundrels were mostly mountain folk from nearby; they didn't dare rob the rich, but they were vicious when it came to bullying the poor.
Whenever they encountered someone traveling alone, they would swarm them and strip them of everything, leaving nothing behind—not even their clothes or shoes.
Villagers who had learned their lesson the hard way usually traveled to the market in groups, setting out at dawn and looking out for one another.
Zhao Xuan set off alone, watching all directions and listening intently, maintaining the utmost vigilance.
He had no intention of doing all the work just for someone else to reap the rewards.
He hadn't gone far when he bumped into his eldest brother.
Seeing his younger brother dressed this way, Zhao Da stopped him and asked with a stern face, "If you aren't going to look for work, where are you off to messing around?"
Zhao Xuan ignored him.
Who would have thought Zhao Da would push further? "If you've got nothing to do, come and help me out. Save yourself from idling about all day and making a fool of me."
"Are you paying?"
Zhao Da stared at him in disbelief. "I'm your own flesh and blood brother, and you're asking me for money just to do a bit of work?"
Zhao Xuan glanced at Zhao Da. *Are you serious?*
When the family property was divided, taking advantage of his own age and strength, Zhao Da had bullied his younger brother to no end.
And now, even after the division, he still expected free labor?
Zhao Xuan was in a rush to get to the market and didn't care to argue with him. With a smile, he said, "Unpaid work is fine, I suppose, but the rice jar at home is scraping bottom. How about you lend me fifty catties of rice, Eldest Brother?"
"I'll go fetch the rice first, and then I'll come help."
The moment the word "rice" was mentioned, Zhao Da instantly turned into a Sichuan opera actor, his expression shifting in a flash. He waved a hand and said, "The rice jar at my place is empty too. Go off and mess around wherever you want—I'm done worrying about you."
Zhao Xuan smiled faintly. Asking for a loan really was the ultimate weapon against familial affection.
Bidding farewell to Zhao Da, he crossed seven or eight mountains and reached Shangtang Market.
Shangtang Market wasn't large. Aside from the post station, which stood in its own walled courtyard as a three-story building, there were only seven or eight low-roofed houses lining the main road.
There was a tailor shop, a grain store, a butcher shop, a blacksmith, and a carriage rental agency—covering clothing, food, and transport.
In addition, stalls selling all kinds of agricultural produce, handicrafts, and snacks lined both sides of the main road.
Several hundred people bustled about, some hawking goods, others picking out what they wanted.
Zhao Xuan first went to the grain store to check the prices of various grains.
Coarse grains like corn and sorghum cost one copper coin for two catties and two taels.
Fine grains like rice cost one copper coin for one catty and three taels.
After the autumn harvest, grain prices had dropped just a fraction.
Next, he went to the butcher shop.
The cheapest pork was five copper coins a catty. Whole chickens sold for five copper coins a catty, while cut up, they were six and a half copper coins a catty.
Mutton was the most expensive: the meat was ten copper coins, and the sheep's head was six.
Having figured out the market rates, Zhao Xuan felt a sense of certainty in his chest.
He found an open space, laid out his turtle doves and mountain pheasants in a neat row, and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Freshly hunted game! Great for vitality and kidney health! Limited quantities, first come, first served!"
As soon as he shouted, people immediately gathered around.
A middle-aged man in a round-collared robe asked, "How much for this game?"
Zhao Xuan replied, "Six copper coins for a turtle dove, twelve copper coins for a mountain pheasant."
The price was similar to the chickens at the butcher shop, but wild game was more tender than farm-raised chicken and theoretically should be a bit more expensive.
An older woman cried out, "So expensive?"
Zhao Xuan ignored her. If you don't have money for meat, eat coarse grain instead.
The man in the round-collared robe hesitated for a moment. "Does it really work?"
Zhao Xuan said solemnly, "Now you mention it, would I dare talk nonsense if it didn't work?"
Hesitating a bit longer, the man pointed at two of the plumpest turtle doves. "Wrap these two and a mountain pheasant up for me. I'll take them."
Zhao Xuan tied their feet together with some dry straw, knotted it, and handed it over with a grin. "Small business, I didn't prepare any oil paper. Please bear with it."
The man hurriedly took them, counted out twenty-four copper coins, tossed them to Zhao Xuan, and hurried off.
Zhao Xuan carefully tucked the coins into his tunic, beaming from ear to ear.
If he watched his spending, he had enough for a month's rations.
The woman who had complained about the price hesitated for a moment, then gritted her teeth and picked out a large one.
Some onlookers thought it was too pricey and walked away after asking the price.
Zhao Xuan wasn't flustered in the least and continued hawking his goods.
Whether the game was simply in high demand or his pitch had worked wonders—
In less than ten minutes, the game was completely sold out, netting him fifty-four copper coins in pure profit.
Just as Zhao Xuan finished packing up his stall, a ruffian-looking youth walked up to him and put on a fierce expression. "New here? Have you paid your protection fee?"
Street thugs truly were a magical species; you could find this crowd anywhere.
Clutching his woodcutter's knife, Zhao Xuan looked coldly at the other man.
Seeing this, the youth sneered, "There are government soldiers right inside the post station. You dare make a move?"
With that, he stuck his head forward. "Come on, chop right here."
Zhao Xuan thought for a moment, then turned and walked away.
"Trying to run?"
Panicking, the youth reached out to grab him, but Zhao Xuan—whose perception had been enhanced—sidestepped the grasp and strode away quickly.
Cursing up a storm, the youth immediately gave chase.
He always had timid mountain folk figured out.
Zhao Xuan turned and walked into the grain store. Seeing the thug follow him inside, he said to the clerk, "Give me twenty copper coins' worth of rice."
Seeing him stop, the youth felt anger flare up. He shoved Zhao Xuan hard and snapped fiercely, "Run, why aren't you running anymore?"
Stumbling slightly, Zhao Xuan shouted at the top of his lungs, "Shopkeeper! Someone's causing trouble in your store!"
The clerk, who had just picked up a cloth bag and was getting ready to weigh the grain, looked up at the shout and flew into a rage. "Wang Mazi, have you eaten the heart and gall of a leopard? You dare cause trouble in our shop?"
"Brothers, beat him!"
Who didn't know that the Li Family Grain Store was the property of Master Li, the post station master?
In the entire Shangtang Market, who dared mess with Master Li's rice bowl? Tired of living, were they?
The thug known as Wang Mazi panicked instantly and hurriedly defended himself, "It wasn't me! I didn't do anything!"
The clerks clearly recognized Wang Mazi and knew what kind of trash he was; they didn't listen to his explanations at all.
As the shop wasn't busy at the moment, several burly clerks swarmed him and began raining punches and kicks down on Wang Mazi.
With a look of venomous hatred at Zhao Xuan, Wang Mazi scrambled away in a panic.
Zhao Xuan smiled faintly. If the grain store couldn't solve the problem, he would have gone to the butcher shop.
Like he said, if they couldn't even handle street thugs, how could they dare open a grain store?
They would have gone out of business long ago.
After buying the rice, Zhao Xuan went and bought salt and other daily necessities.
Wandering this way and that, he eventually came to the blacksmith's shop.
The blacksmith shop didn't just sell iron pots, hoes, sickles, and other farm tools; it also sold hunting bows, spears, and other weapons.
When Zhao Xuan arrived, four or five men were forging iron, while another man was resting on a recliner—clearly the boss at a glance.
"Boss, how much for a hunting bow?"
The boss raised his head to look at Zhao Xuan, then lay back down. "Don't bother asking. You can't afford it."
Right off the bat, the boss left Zhao Xuan speechless.
Refusing to give up, Zhao Xuan said, "Boss, you can't put it that way. What if I *can* afford it?"
The boss let out a snort of derision. "The cheapest one-stone bow is made with buffalo horn for the bow and buffalo sinew for the string. One tael of silver each, comes with three iron arrows. You want it?"
Zhao Xuan fell silent.
In the Great Jin currency system, one tael of silver was equal to one thousand copper coins, enough to buy over a thousand catties of rice—enough to feed a family of three for a year.
He truly couldn't afford it.
"Sorry to disturb you. Farewell."
Stepping out of the blacksmith's shop, Zhao Xuan felt a deep sense of melancholy.
Without a good bow, no matter how good his archery skills were, he couldn't hit high-value game.
Without high-value game, he couldn't live a good life.
It was a vicious circle. When on earth would he ever escape Dishan Village?
Wait. Hunting bows were made by humans, too. If he couldn't afford a fine one, couldn't he just make one himself?
The bow itself was easy; hard wood could be found right on the mountain, and if he cut down enough branches, he would surely find a suitable one.
What he lacked was the string.
With a goal in mind, Zhao Xuan began to browse the market, looking for materials to make a bowstring.
Wandering around, he arrived at the tailor shop and, at great expense—ten copper coins—bought a two-meter-long strip of ox tendon.