Chapter 220: Chapter 220: Hunting

The fourteenth day of the first lunar month.

The weather had been clear and sunny these past few days.

The snow in the forest had temporarily melted, revealing some well-trodden paths. Unable to resist Gu Lanting’s repeated pleas, Xu Huaian—the good brother-in-law that he was—finally agreed to take him for a walk in the mountains.

Since it was so rare for him to visit the Northeast, he had to let him experience the unique joys of being a Northeasterner.

Ming Ruxue wanted to go too, but Xu Huaian couldn’t manage two little ones by himself, so Gu Qinghuan joined them.

Zhong Luoning stayed home to tidy up, looking after the other kids.

The tools they’d used for setting traps were still at the Ji family’s place, so Xu Huaian went to fetch them, and the group quietly set off up the mountain.

There was still thick snow in many parts of the mountain, making it hard to walk, but this was truly a golden opportunity for hunting.

Most of winter had passed, and many animals had finished hibernating and were out looking for food.

Just like people, animals leave footprints. By following tracks and droppings in the snow, it was easy to find where the animals were hiding.

Rabbit burrows, in particular, were a sure bet.

As they walked, Xu Huaian set several traps, this time generously baiting them with some grain, aiming for pheasants and other game birds.

As for catching rabbits, there was no need for such trouble.

He simply found their burrow entrances, blocked all but one, and then smoked them out.

He lit some damp firewood and tossed it in, then used a burlap sack to cover the opening. Xu Huaian and Gu Lanting, the two grown men, pressed down hard on either side of the sack, waiting for the rabbits to be forced out by the smoke.

Sure enough, in no time at all, six rabbits—big and small—darted into the sack, filling it to the brim.

Xu Huaian pulled them out, dispatched them with a swift cut, and put them in his basket, freeing up the sack for more.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to keep any alive—Gu Qinghuan’s space ranch could always use more stock.

But with Gu Lanting and Ming Ruxue watching with wide, curious eyes, it was impossible to sneak any away. He’d have to find another chance.

Using the same method, they cleared out three rabbit burrows.

The second burrow had even more rabbits—eight in total—making fourteen rabbits so far.

Gu Lanting’s basket was completely filled.

He and Ming Ruxue were grinning from ear to ear. It was a special and delightful experience—even if they hadn’t caught the rabbits themselves, participation was what mattered!

When they went for the third burrow, something unexpected happened. As the saying goes, “a crafty rabbit has three burrows”—they missed one entrance, and three rabbits escaped, leaving them with four.

Altogether, they caught eighteen rabbits.

When Ming Ruxue saw the rabbits escaping from the other entrance, she dashed off to chase them, overestimating her own abilities. She didn’t catch any rabbits, but instead took a spectacular tumble and twisted her ankle, lying in the snow wailing.

Neither of the men could help much, so Gu Qinghuan hurried over to check. Thanks to her thick shoes, it wasn’t serious—just a mild sprain that would heal quickly with some rest.

But Ming Ruxue couldn’t move around much for now, and Xu Huaian’s traps still needed to be collected.

Gu Lanting volunteered to stay behind and help Ming Ruxue back home, leaving Xu Huaian and Gu Qinghuan to gather the rest of the catch.

After a full morning, Ming Ruxue and Gu Lanting had gotten their fill of “hunting.” Ming Ruxue just wanted to rest now, and Gu Lanting was worried her ankle would affect their plans for the day after tomorrow.

There was no better solution, so this would have to do.

Xu Huaian and Gu Qinghuan watched as Gu Lanting carried Ming Ruxue down the mountain.

They hadn’t encountered any wild beasts along the way, so it should be safe.

Once the others had left, Gu Qinghuan quickly stashed the morning’s haul—a basket full of rabbits—into her space, and the two of them continued on, traveling light through the woods.

Xu Huaian led the way, with her following behind.

They decided to venture deeper into the mountains, hoping to hunt some new animals to add to her space’s collection.

Gu Qinghuan also took out the large net she’d used for hunting before, just in case.

As she was looking for the net, the little sable suddenly leapt out and perched on her shoulder, looking at her with a fawning expression.

She had no idea when it had woken up—hopefully that flower petal hadn’t affected it?

Thinking this, Gu Qinghuan casually brought it out of her space.

“If you want to go, then go! This is where you belong.” Last time she’d tried to release it, it refused to leave. Now that it had eaten the Zhu Xie flower, surely it would go?

She had no intention of keeping a pet anyway. The little sable had been fending for itself in her space all this time; it was better off back in the wild.

Unexpectedly, the little creature seemed to understand her. Its eyes darted, and it shook its head, clutching tightly to her collar as if afraid she’d abandon it.

It wasn’t stupid—how could the mountains compare to Gu Qinghuan’s space? It couldn’t bear to leave the spiritual spring.

Gu Qinghuan and Xu Huaian exchanged glances. Was this little guy becoming a spirit or something?

Let it be. It only needed a bit of food and water, and she had plenty to spare.

So, with the little sable in tow, Gu Qinghuan and Xu Huaian headed deeper into the mountains.

The sable nestled by her collar for warmth, its bright eyes darting about, nose twitching as if sniffing for scents—just like a hunting dog.

Gu Qinghuan chuckled and patted its furry head.

They reached an old-growth forest, when suddenly, the little sable jumped from Gu Qinghuan’s shoulder and darted through the woods like lightning.

Gu Qinghuan thought it had finally decided to leave and felt a pang of disappointment, when Xu Huaian pointed ahead, “Qinghuan, look!”

She looked up and saw the little sable waving at them, as if to say, “Come here, come here!”

They hurried over.

The sable was scratching at the snow in front of it, then pointed at the ground with a proud look.

It was just a withered, unidentifiable plant.

Neither of them paid much attention and were about to move on.

The sable grew anxious, chittering and tugging at her pants, its expression almost human in its urgency.

It even gestured emphatically with its little paws.

Gu Qinghuan ventured a guess, “You want me to dig it up? Dig out this vine or whatever it is?”

The sable nodded, looking at her with approval, which made Gu Qinghuan laugh. Did it even realize it was a sable?

But since it was so insistent, she decided to humor it.

She suddenly remembered that, back in her space, it had once helped her find something valuable—a ginseng root with no rootlets.

She’d stored it in the transfer station and forgotten about it. Maybe this would be another good find.

Gu Qinghuan handed a small knife to Xu Huaian, her designated laborer.

Prompted by her, Xu Huaian began to dig, bit by bit. The winter soil was frozen solid and tough to work with.

While Xu Huaian dug, Gu Qinghuan busied herself preparing lunch for the two of them.

Since they’d brought Gu Lanting and Ming Ruxue, they hadn’t planned to stay in the mountains long and hadn’t brought any food.

Now that they couldn’t head back right away, they might as well eat in the mountains.

In the dead of winter, something hot was a must. Gu Qinghuan gathered some simple vegetables and meat to make a small hot pot.

Once the hot pot was ready and kept warm in the pot, she finally had time to check on Xu Huaian’s progress."

"Chapter 221: The Little Purple Marten Hunts for Treasure—Ginseng

“How is it? What did you find?” Anything that catches the little purple marten’s eye must be something special.

Xu Huaian said excitedly, “Come over here and take a look!”

In Xu Huaian’s hand was a piece of ginseng, with another small section still buried in the soil. He was lying on the ground, carefully digging it out. Despite the winter chill, he was sweating from the effort.

“Well, who would’ve thought there’d be ginseng under that patch of dead grass? And it looks like a pretty big one, too.”

Gu Qinghuan patted the little purple marten’s head in praise. “Good job, little guy!”

This fellow keeps finding ginseng one after another—could its special ability be hunting for ginseng? That’s incredible! Whoever raises it basically has a walking treasure detector.

The little purple marten looked smug and self-satisfied, making Gu Qinghuan even more fond of it.

As he dug, Xu Huaian explained, “Ginseng is a perennial deciduous plant, so it’s normal for it to lose its leaves in winter. Normally, ginseng hunters don’t go into the mountains in winter. They wait until spring, when the temperature rises and the leaves grow back, and that’s how they identify the plants.”

“We’re lucky to have the little purple marten—finding something this good in the dead of winter! This ginseng must be at least a hundred years old.”

A hundred-year-old ginseng might not fetch sky-high prices these days, but it’s still worth a few hundred yuan out there.

If you put this quality of wild ginseng in the vending machine for people from the future, you could probably sell it for several thousand, maybe even ten thousand yuan. Jackpot!

And with the one they found earlier—even though it didn’t have any rootlets, it was still ginseng.

Gu Qinghuan made a quick decision. “Great work! You’re getting a special meal at lunch today!”

Of course, she was talking to the little purple marten.

The little guy clasped its paws together, as if saying, “Thank you, thank you.”

While Xu Huaian continued digging, Gu Qinghuan looked up the marten’s favorite foods to reward it properly.

Martens mainly eat small birds and mammals, but they also eat insects, pine nuts, berries, and other plant foods. Their diet includes squirrels, chipmunks, field mice, voles, pikas, wild rabbits, pheasants, grouse, small birds, bird eggs, insects, and sometimes fish, honey, various nuts, and berries.

Wow, this little guy really eats a wide variety—meat, fish, veggies, fruit, nuts—you name it.

Its diet is almost like a human’s!

Gu Qinghuan immediately decided to reward it with a wild rabbit she had caught that morning.

Since it couldn’t finish a whole rabbit in one meal, she skinned the rabbit and chopped off a big leg for it.

She also poured out a few packs of her favorite mixed nuts and put a small crucian carp on the side as a side dish.

Finally, she served a cup of spiritual spring water.

Wild rabbit, crucian carp, and nuts—a perfectly balanced, nutritious meal.

The little purple marten drooled with satisfaction and started eating.

By this time, Xu Huaian had finished digging up the rest of the ginseng.

Now, a ginseng root still covered in soil lay in his palm.

The two discussed it. They didn’t need the ginseng right now, and with the little purple marten around, maybe they’d find more in the future.

Most importantly, they didn’t know how to properly process ginseng and didn’t want to waste such a good thing.

If they sold it now, it’d only fetch a few hundred yuan at best.

Gu Qinghuan decided to put it straight into the vending machine.

She also included the previously saved ginseng—the one without rootlets—and put them both up for sale.

She wrapped the two soil-covered ginseng roots in a red cloth and placed them in the vending machine.

Pricing them was a bit tricky. Gu Qinghuan knew wild hundred-year-old ginseng was expensive, but she didn’t know exactly how expensive.

She remembered a news story: a 236-gram, hundred-year-old wild ginseng had a starting auction price of 12 million yuan and eventually sold for 18 million. That’s over 70,000 yuan per gram!

Their two wild ginseng roots weren’t light, but after processing, they definitely wouldn’t weigh over 200 grams—maybe just over 100 grams.

A small difference in weight could mean a huge difference in price.

If she priced them like that auction, each root would be worth tens of thousands of yuan, which was unrealistic—they weren’t quite the same thing.

After thinking it over, Gu Qinghuan settled on a middle ground and decided not to price them by the gram, but to set a flat price.

The root without rootlets would be a bit cheaper—10,000 yuan.

The one with rootlets was bigger and in better condition—she’d ask for 15,000 yuan.

Converted to future prices, that’s 1 million and 1.5 million, not exactly cheap, but definitely not expensive either. Compared to that 18 million, it was a steal.

After all, this was genuine wild ginseng.

She set the prices, wrote up a straightforward product description, and put them up for sale.

Her description was simple and direct: “Authentic hundred-year wild ginseng from Northeast China. Guaranteed genuine or ten times your money back. Honest business, open to supervision.”

Once everything was set, the two of them didn’t give it another thought and went to wash up for lunch.

A steaming hot pot of spicy stew with rice was simply irresistible—absolutely delicious.

Xu Huaian had burned a lot of energy that morning and wolfed down three big bowls of rice, plus plenty of stew.

His wife’s cooking was a rare treat these days—he had to cherish it and eat as much as he could.

What they didn’t know was that the ginseng they’d just listed had already caused a stir online.

Because it was so expensive—hundreds of thousands at least—many people saw it, but no one dared to buy it outright. Most were just watching and waiting.

Some people couldn’t afford it and were just there for the spectacle; others could afford it but were hesitant about its authenticity.

Although Gu Qinghuan’s shop had a reputation for selling genuine goods, what if this was all just a setup?

Some scammers sell real goods at first, then switch to fakes for big-ticket items. There were plenty of such scams online.

If you spent over a million and it turned out to be fake, you’d be ruined.

Some people even sent private messages calling Gu Qinghuan a scammer.

But there were also some sharp-minded folks.

One blogger, whose family ran a medicinal herb business and was quite wealthy, had been trying to build his account but hadn’t found a good angle. The online buzz caught his attention, and he had a bold idea.

Since everyone was watching and wondering if the ginseng was really a hundred-year-old wild root, why not buy it himself and make a high-quality review? That would definitely attract a lot of attention.

Whether the ginseng was real or not, he’d get tons of traffic and finally make a name for himself."

"Chapter 222: Treasure Hunt, Five Big Chests

This guy was shrewd—he bought the ginseng without the rootlets, saving himself half a million compared to the price of a whole one.

After getting the ginseng, he paid a hefty sum to hire a seasoned expert—someone well-known online for their skill in identifying ginseng.

The expert agreed to help partly for the exposure, hoping to ride the wave of attention and maybe go viral.

The two hit it off immediately and hyped up the appraisal event, pushing it into the spotlight.

Some people might say, “A million or two is nothing to the rich. Why hesitate? Just buy it.” But even the wealthy don’t have money blowing in on the wind. They’re afraid of getting scammed—especially with so many fraudsters online these days. You can’t be too careful.

That’s why everyone was paying close attention to the appraisal results, waiting to place their orders. If it turned out to be real, someone would snap up the other, complete ginseng right away.

And sure enough, the appraisal confirmed it was genuine.

The comments section exploded.

“I knew the shop owner I stan would never sell fakes.”

“Another day, another surprise from this little shop. The stuff they’re selling just keeps getting fancier.”

“That lump is actually real ginseng? My god, if I saw it on the street, I wouldn’t even recognize it. I’d probably kick it aside. No wonder some people make money—I’ve got eyes but can’t see.”

“Fresh ginseng, in the dead of winter? Did the shop owner go digging in the deep forests of the Northeast?”

“Guess I’m just not worthy…”

“Slap in the face! Some people were saying they were selling dog meat under a sheep’s head.”

“By the way, isn’t there still another ginseng up for grabs?”

…

Before anyone could react, the complete ginseng had already been snapped up by a wealthy buyer.

Who wouldn’t want something this good?

Honestly, getting ginseng of this quality for just over 1.5 million was an absolute steal.

The shop owner clearly didn’t know the market, so they priced it pretty casually.

A lot of people were left staring in frustration—who would’ve thought a tiny shop would actually sell real wild ginseng? It was like something out of a fantasy novel.

Even more people started following Gu Qinghuan’s shop, swearing that from now on, they’d trust anything she sold and buy first, ask questions later.

The first person to take the plunge not only went viral thanks to the appraisal event and gained a ton of followers, but also found a new direction—specializing in appraisals and exposing fakes, sparking a wave of anti-counterfeit content online.

He ended up selling the ginseng he bought to his father’s herbal medicine company, making a clean profit of half a million.

He absolutely hit the jackpot this time.

Even after becoming famous, he never forgot Gu Qinghuan’s kindness. He’d often mention this story during his livestreams, giving her shop free publicity and basically becoming its unofficial spokesperson.

And Gu Qinghuan knew nothing about any of this.

After lunch, she and Xu Huai’an hurried out of her space—there was still a lot to do that afternoon.

The two of them sped through the deep mountains, with the little sable occasionally pointing out things on the ground for them to dig up.

They found some medicinal herbs like polygonum multiflorum, gastrodia, and notoginseng, but no more ginseng—or at least, not any old enough to be worth digging.

In the little sable’s eyes, young ginseng wasn’t worth the trouble. Better to let it grow.

After all, century-old ginseng isn’t like carrots—you can’t just find it anywhere.

But things got strange this time. Xu Huai’an had already dug a hole up to his knees and still hadn’t found anything.

Gu Qinghuan shot a suspicious look at the little sable.

“Are you sure you’re pointing to the right spot?”

The little sable looked wronged and a bit annoyed, gesturing emphatically.

Strangely enough, Gu Qinghuan actually seemed to understand what it meant.

It was saying, “How could you not trust me? If I say it’s here, it’s here!”

So Gu Qinghuan told Xu Huai’an to keep digging.

When the hole was nearly a meter deep, Xu Huai’an’s shovel suddenly hit something with a thud—it sounded like wood.

He and Gu Qinghuan exchanged glances, then he started digging even faster.

The little sable turned its head away, as if to say “Hmph! See, I told you so.”

Gu Qinghuan gave it a pat. “Alright, you’re the best, okay? I’ll give you extra chicken tonight.”

The little sable looked smug.

After a while, Xu Huai’an realized the chest was even bigger than he’d thought. At his pace, it would be dark before he finished digging it out.

Gu Qinghuan figured this wouldn’t do, so she jumped into the hole and touched the chest, hoping she could store it in her space.

It worked!

The spot where she’d been standing was now an empty pit—she’d sunk even deeper.

But to her surprise, there was another chest underneath.

Gu Qinghuan used the same trick and stored that one too.

And there was another one below that.

It seemed endless.

One after another, Gu Qinghuan ended up storing five big chests in her space before finally hitting solid ground.

She was several meters down by now.

In the end, she had to toss a rope out from her space so Xu Huai’an could pull her up.

They didn’t have time to check what was inside the chests. Whatever it was, if the little sable thought it was worth it—and it was buried like this deep in the mountains—it definitely wasn’t ordinary.

First, they had to fill in the hole. If someone found it, that would be trouble.

Luckily, there was plenty of dirt around. They shoveled it all back in and packed it down. Xu Huai’an even thoughtfully covered the spot with snow so it wouldn’t be obvious. After a while, any trace of digging would disappear.

The two of them were working up a sweat when, suddenly, Xu Huai’an looked up and pulled Gu Qinghuan behind him.

She was about to ask what was wrong when she saw they were surrounded by a pack of wild boars.

Aren’t wild boars supposed to be dumb? Since when do they know how to surround their prey?

Unfortunately, they were the prey in question.

With the snow deep in the mountains, food was scarce. These boars had been hungry for days—their eyes were practically glowing green.

Even as she was scared, Gu Qinghuan couldn’t help counting how many there were.

One, two, three…eighteen!

Eighteen wild boars.

Gu Qinghuan was completely stunned.

But she quickly remembered she could hide in her space if things got dangerous—no need to face them head-on.

She tugged Xu Huai’an’s sleeve. “Let’s hide in my space and wait it out.”

Xu Huai’an shook his head, completely unafraid. “It’s fine, I can handle it. It’s rare to see so many big ones at once—let’s stock up your space so we’ll have plenty of meat for next year.”

“So many wild boars—are you sure?”

It wasn’t that Gu Qinghuan didn’t trust him; she just didn’t know about Xu Huai’an’s legendary feats, like taking on a hundred men by himself.

“Just watch. I’ll make sure your pig farm is packed today.

Give me a basket of your cabbages from the space, then stay behind me and be ready to jump into your space if things get dangerous.”

Gu Qinghuan immediately understood his plan.

She quickly took out two baskets of cabbages from her storage, handing one to Xu Huai’an.

Xu Huai’an grabbed the cabbage, picked up a shovel and a big net, and charged out.

Gu Qinghuan had no choice but to follow—she couldn’t just leave him alone.

Clearly, the wild boars were starving. Xu Huai’an tossed a bunch of cabbage to test them, and several boars immediately started fighting over it, forgetting about the two humans.

Seeing this, Gu Qinghuan threw another batch of cabbage in the opposite direction.

Like that, the two of them tossed all ten-plus bundles of cabbage from their baskets, successfully breaking up the boars’ encirclement.

All the wild boars started fighting over the cabbage, too busy to bother with the two of them.

Xu Huai’an shot Gu Qinghuan a look, and she instantly understood—they’d worked together like this before."

"Chapter 223: Eighteen Wild Boars Harvested