Chapter 70: Who?! Who was it?! Which bastard has stolen my winter granary!!

Mingdai carefully cradled the ginseng doll, inspecting it from top to bottom. Fortunately, not a scratch marred its surface. After her examination, she gently transferred it into her space, intending to process it later when she had time. Once it was safely tucked away, she raised her eyes and glared at Zhou Sinian, who was leaning against a tree trunk, retching.

Earlier, in her excitement, she’d accidentally thrust her finger into Zhou Sinian’s throat. Now, he stood teary-eyed, dry heaving, silently accusing Mingdai of crossing the line.

Mingdai, furious at his recklessness, tilted her head and scolded him, “Have I ever deprived you of food? Or drink? Or hidden anything delicious from you? Why are your hands so quick to grab anything? This is medicine, do you understand? Your body is too weak for supplements right now—one bite and you’d be gone for good!”

Zhou Sinian still didn’t understand. He simply believed that anything Mingdai liked must be delicious, and he just wanted a taste—just a taste. Who could have guessed Mingdai would dig right into his throat?

He retched again.

Mingdai sighed and tried again. “You can’t eat this right now, understand? If you do, you’ll die, and you’ll never taste pine nut candy, sugar-roasted chestnuts, lamb soup, roasted lamb leg, and…” She trailed off.

Zhou Sinian’s eyes widened, and he sprang away, distancing himself by more than ten meters from the patch of ginseng. Mingdai watched as he leaped onto a tree branch, his face full of vigilance, and couldn’t help but feel exasperated.

“Fine, stay up in the tree. I’ll dig up the rest of the ginseng, and later we can go hunting for wild pheasant, all right?”

Zhou Sinian didn’t answer, and Mingdai didn’t bother with him, lowering her head to continue digging.

After ten minutes or so, a voice came from the tree overhead. “Want lamb, not chicken.”

Mingdai’s hand holding the little brush trembled as she looked at Zhou Sinian, who had jumped to a branch nearby. She felt a headache brewing. Lamb might be delicious, but he couldn’t eat it every day!

Never mind, she’d indulge him, considering she’d nearly made him hoarse.

Without Zhou Sinian causing trouble and with the help of her space’s abilities, Mingdai quickly harvested all the ginseng in the vicinity that was over two hundred years old.

Once Zhou Sinian had observed that the ginseng wouldn’t attack him, he jumped down and happily munched on the throat lozenges Mingdai gave him.

It took them an entire day to excavate four patches of ginseng. Mingdai was tense and decided she’d return another time.

Before leaving, Mingdai found a herd of wild sheep. She took Zhou Sinian along. Without needing instructions, he placed her in a tree and, like a phantom, crept toward the wild goats in the woods.

Mingdai touched the old locust tree beneath her, strongly suspecting Zhou Sinian had done it deliberately! Luckily, there were few thorns on this branch, and she was crouched, avoiding another embarrassing mishap.

From her high perch, the view was broad, and she could clearly see the hunting scene in the distance.

Since her space held a backup flock of sheep, Mingdai told Zhou Sinian he didn’t need to catch them all alive. Dead ones were fine—she could store them statically in her space without affecting their flavor.

After stunning most of the herd, Zhou Sinian was discovered by the remaining sheep, who began bleating and fleeing. Zhou Sinian drew his military knife and dispatched them one by one—within minutes, the entire herd lay still.

He strode over and reached up to Mingdai in the tree.

Mingdai gazed at his thin but resolute face beneath the red scarf and, as if possessed, leapt down. Fortunately, the madcap genius’s skills were up to snuff—he caught her securely and carried her toward the sheep.

“Hurry up!” Zhou Sinian urged for the first time. Mingdai didn’t ask questions, quickly storing all twenty-odd sheep in her space.

When the last sheep vanished, Zhou Sinian grabbed Mingdai by the nape and slung her onto his back, dashing down the mountain.

Mingdai, thrown backward by inertia, clung tightly to his shoulders and locked her legs around his waist, ducking to avoid whipping branches as they hurtled down the slope.

After a while, Zhou Sinian suddenly began climbing, leaping between trees with the help of vines—several times nearly sending Mingdai tumbling to the ground.

Mingdai, frightened, clung desperately to his shoulders, yet exhilarated, she felt like bursting into a song from Tarzan.

When they finally reached the bottom of the mountain, Zhou Sinian slowed his pace.

From the woods behind them, a tiger’s roar echoed.

Tiger: Who?! Who?! Which bastard robbed my winter pantry?!

Mingdai and Zhou Sinian, both out of breath, exchanged glances and laughed with delight.

They made it back to the hut before dinner. Aunt Huang had already finished all the preparations: coarse grain cakes and stir-fried mung bean sprouts.

The dough was ready, and Mingdai pressed the cakes into the pan—two per person, hearty and delicious.

The mung bean sprouts were even simpler; vinegar and dried chili were the soul of the dish. In less than an hour, everything was ready.

Aunt Huang cheerfully divided the food, showing no interest in the basket the two had brought back. Mingdai was pleased; sensible people were always the easiest to get along with.

After dinner and tidying up, Mingdai took out several bright red persimmons from the basket. They were all fully ripe, nearly eaten away by birds. Mingdai decided to pick them all, storing them in her space—only about three hundred from the persimmon grove.

Aunt Huang, familiar with Mingdai’s temperament, didn’t stand on ceremony; she took one, peeled it, and sucked a mouthful.

Sweeter than honey!

“Girl, before the New Year, my mother will surely send frozen pears and frozen persimmons to my house. I’ll share half with you then!”

Mingdai nodded happily. Eating frozen pears and persimmons on the heated bed was a miracle cure for internal heat!

She thought for a moment. “Aunt, where is your family from?”

Aunt Huang pointed to the mountain they’d visited that day. “Just beyond that mountain—my family lives deep in the hills. It’s poor there, but I was lucky enough to marry out. My mother, father, brother, and younger brother—all of them will spend their whole lives tucked away in the mountains. There are tigers in those hills, so anyone going in or out has to go in groups with guns, or they’d never dare. So I only see my mother once a year, before New Year.”

As she spoke, sorrow crept into her tone. “Life in the mountains is hard. The land grows nothing, so we rely on the forest for sustenance. There’s plenty of fruit, but sadly, it can’t be transported out. My little brother is twenty-six and still hasn’t found a wife!”

Mingdai thought about the vast mountain they’d visited today. It truly was immense, and she hadn’t seen any sign of human activity—otherwise, those ancient ginseng would never have survived.

It seemed she owed thanks to the two tigers; otherwise, she’d never have found so much ginseng.

“Aunt, things will surely get better. Maybe someday they’ll build a road, and you’ll be able to go home yourself.”

Aunt Huang, ever cheerful, nodded in affirmation. “If they really build a road, I’ll go back at least once a month! Not to mention, I’d finally get to eat some meat at home! When that happens, you’ll come with me! Let me tell you, do you know roe deer? Silly roe deer—don’t let their foolishness fool you, their meat is delicious! And lamb—I remember when I was a child, I only got lamb once a year at New Year. Unlike here, you hardly ever see even a few pellets of sheep dung! And—”

Mingdai listened with delight, thinking Aunt Huang’s childhood sounded far more interesting.

Zhou Sinian’s ears twitched and made a mental note: Silly roe deer… absolutely delicious!