"Found it!" Lin Moyang exclaimed, his voice brimming with delight.
Shen Youwei, who had been lost in the beauty of the scenery, snapped back to reality and looked at him, puzzled. "What?"
In response, Lin Moyang pointed toward several decaying logs and tree stumps near Diaoshui Cliff. "Take a look over there."
Shen Youwei followed his gaze and, faintly, spotted several dark brown mushrooms growing quietly on a patch of damp, dead wood. The surrounding mist drifted over them, leaving sparkling droplets on their caps, making them look exceptionally fresh and tender.
"Mushrooms!?" Shen Youwei gasped, finally realizing that Lin Moyang had not actually come up the mountain to hunt wild boars.
"Xiaowei, could you go cut some thatch and thin bamboo strips for me?" Lin Moyang asked, his eyes filled with uncertainty.
Seeing that Lin Moyang had underestimated her, Shen Youwei huffed, tossed her two braids, turned away, and headed toward a nearby small bamboo grove. Her proud, stubborn demeanor seemed to tell him, "Don't underestimate me; I'll prove it to you with results in a moment."
Unfortunately, she was a stutterer, so to save time, she skipped any communication she deemed unnecessary.
Watching her stubborn little figure, Lin Moyang smiled faintly and picked up his sickle to begin harvesting the mushrooms. Time slipped away to the sound of water splashing against the rocks, and he harvested several batches. He did not put them directly into the basket, as that would cause them to be crushed and spoil their appearance.
By the time Shen Youwei returned with the thatch and bamboo, the ground was already covered with mushrooms.
"So many!?" She swallowed hard, her eyes shining. In her mind, she could already see a fragrant pot of stewed mushrooms.
Seeing her look like a little glutton, which was truly adorable, Lin Moyang couldn't help but reach out and gently pat her head. "How about we have mushroom stewed with ribs tonight?"
Shen Youwei blushed and gave a small nod.
Lin Moyang withdrew his hand and began packing the mushrooms into the basket. He laid down a bed of long thatch first, then carefully placed the mushrooms on top. He arranged them in a single layer, keeping them toward the center and away from the sides. He then covered them with a thin layer of thatch, stuffing the edges so that from the outside, the basket appeared to be filled only with thatch. Finally, he carefully placed bamboo strips inside to create an independent compartment, topped it with more thatch, and repeated the process. This ensured the mushrooms wouldn't be crushed and remained hidden from view.
Shen Youwei watched him closely, blinking her large eyes, thinking to herself how thoughtful this man was. In this era, foraging in the mountains was a common side business and generally overlooked. However, large-scale commercial harvesting required official approval. Without a permit, it was considered "fleecing the socialist sheep," looting public collective assets, and could land one in jail. The quantity they had gathered was clearly more than for personal use, which was why Lin Moyang was being so cautious to avoid detection.
After some time, Lin Moyang finished packing the two baskets. He also gathered two rotten logs, intending to take them back to cultivate the mushrooms.
Instead of returning the way they came, they took a different path down the mountain—one that was easier to walk and connected to a wide cattle trail. Along the way, Lin Moyang teased Shen Youwei or sang songs that didn't belong to that era, and the two chatted and laughed, the atmosphere quite harmonious.
Suddenly, while passing a place called Shidengluo, they heard cries for help.
Their laughter ceased instantly. Lin Moyang set down the baskets and told Shen Youwei to watch them by the roadside. He took his sickle and headed toward the sound. As she watched him disappear into the forest, Shen Youwei gripped the edge of her jacket, biting her lip, terrified that he might be in danger but also worried that the person calling for help might meet a tragic end if rescue was delayed.
As the cries grew louder, Lin Moyang called out to reassure the person. Before long, following the voice's directions, he reached a steep cliff. What he saw shocked him: a man was hanging in mid-air, gripping a gnarled tree trunk with both hands, a faded military canteen hanging from his body. One wrong move and he would fall to his death.
"Comrade, stay calm, don't rush. I'll figure something out!" Lin Moyang raised his hands to signal, trying to keep the man steady. If the man panicked now, it would be over.
To Lin Moyang's surprise, the man was remarkably calm. "Young comrade, don't worry, I'm not panicked. Once you're here, I'm not worried. If you can just help me pull my feet over to that dirt ledge in front of you, I'll be saved."
Only then did Lin Moyang realize that while the man's situation was precarious, he wasn't far from the ledge. His feet were just hanging too low to reach it. He only needed a point of leverage for his hands and feet to be rescued. Lin Moyang couldn't help but admire the man's ability to stay calm and devise his own rescue plan while in the face of death.
"Alright, hold on, I'll figure it out."
Lin Moyang assessed the distance to the gnarled tree, looked around, and used his sickle to cut down a sapling. He trimmed the top, intentionally leaving a branch to act as a hook. He then wedged the trunk into a gap in the gnarled tree to secure it, anchoring the other end near his own feet. Once satisfied it was sturdy, he extended the wooden hook.
"Be careful now, stay focused. I'm going to pull your feet over, and you crawl along the trunk with your hands."
"Understood, go ahead, young comrade!"
Once the man confirmed, Lin Moyang carefully hooked his feet and pulled him up until he could reach the dirt ledge. After finding a footing, the man crawled up the trunk and was soon on solid ground. Lin Moyang had been terrified throughout the process, but the man didn't seem shaken at all; in fact, he appeared quite relaxed.
As soon as he was up, he grabbed Lin Moyang's hand with enthusiasm. "Young comrade, thank you! If not for you, I wouldn't have been able to hold on much longer!"
Only then did Lin Moyang get a good look at him. The man was in his forties or fifties with a high forehead. His grip was broad and thick, giving a sense of reassurance.
"You're welcome. It was your own good fortune that kept you alive," Lin Moyang said with a smile, showing no desire for credit.
"Ha ha..." The man burst into laughter. "Good, 'good fortune kept me alive.' Young comrade, my name is Liu Shengli. I came down from the county to do some sketching and accidentally ended up in this sorry state."
"By the way, what is your name?"
"My name is Lin Moyang. Let's get out of here first; my wife is waiting for me by the road," Lin Moyang said, turning to leave.
But before he had taken two steps, Liu Shengli called out from behind in a commanding tone, "Stop!"
This left Lin Moyang completely bewildered.