Chapter 8: Driving the Cart to the County Town

After comforting and persuading his parents, the three of them began to pack up the items on the kang. Looking at so many valuable treasures, Wang Dazhu and Liu Guilan didn't show a hint of a smile!

It wasn't until Wang An opened the two wooden boxes that Wang Dazhu and Liu Guilan revealed expressions of utter astonishment!

In the Northeast, wild ginseng—"bangchui"—is precious, but it can still be found. However, one that is this large and so perfect in quality is something a person might not even see once in their entire lifetime!

Wang Dazhu and Liu Guilan held the wooden boxes, feeling somewhat at a loss, gripping them tightly as if terrified they might accidentally drop and break them.

Although they were just ordinary farmers, they understood the value of what was inside those two boxes! Each one was worth more than that gold nugget!

Wang An thought for a moment and asked, "Dad, Mom, this stuff doesn't seem easy to store; it’s easy to ruin! Should we sell it now or later?"

As soon as Wang An finished asking, he saw his parents looking at him with surprise, which left him confused and scratching his head.

At this point, Liu Guilan spoke up: "Your great-grandfather was a 'sanding'—a ginseng digger—who dug for tribute ginseng! Sigh! What kind of 'sanding'? In reality, they were just slaves! I say Chairman Mao is better! Otherwise, our family would still be slaves today."

Liu Guilan chattered on at length. The gist of it was that although Wang An's great-grandfather wasn't a "sanbang" leader, he was still part of the ginseng-hunting group. He knew how to find, dig, and preserve ginseng.

However, the secrets of finding and digging were passed down only to men, not women. Only the menial task of preservation was something anyone could do.

"That's fine, Mom. I'll leave these two boxes to you. We won't sell them; you decide what to do." In truth, Wang An didn't want to sell such rare, life-saving items either.

In the end, they decided that apart from the two ginseng roots, they would sell the gun, the furs, the bear gall, the live roe deer, the larger dead roe deer, and one pheasant.

Finally, the three of them worked together to skin the roe deer, the lynx, and the fox. The roe deer meat was cut into pieces of roughly equal size, about two pounds each.

A fifty-plus-pound roe deer yielded about twenty-six or twenty-seven pounds of meat!

They scraped the fat off the hides and stretched them on wooden frames; once air-dried, they would fetch another sum of money!

In the evening, Liu Guilan stewed the lynx and one pheasant, and the family had another wonderful, satisfying meal! The two little girls were especially beaming with joy!

The next day, because there were too many items and live animals, they couldn't take the forestry train. The train was meant for forestry workers to commute and was for internal use only.

However, the train did pass through Kaoshan Village, and since the villagers didn't travel often, it was fine to hitch a ride occasionally. The fare was only two cents per person, but even that was something many villagers were reluctant to pay, choosing instead to walk the thirty-plus miles on their own two legs!

Wang An spent seventeen cents to buy three packs of cigarettes: two packs of Changbaishan for fourteen cents and one pack of Putao for three cents. When he arrived at the brigade headquarters (called the village committee after the land was divided among households), the brigade secretary, Niu Yiqun, happened to be there.

The brigade headquarters consisted of two mud-brick houses, larger than those of ordinary families—one kitchen and one large office. Inside the office, a coal stove was burning, with tables arranged in a circle around it.

Niu Yiqun was a demobilized soldier with an upright and unyielding character, though he wasn't pedantic in his work. He held great prestige in the village and was the patriarch of Kaoshan Village.

"Good morning, Uncle Niu! What are you busy with?" Wang An asked with a grin as soon as he stepped through the door.

Niu Yiqun looked up, rolled his eyes at Wang An, and ignored him, continuing to write something.

Wang An chuckled and moved closer, opened a pack of cigarettes, pulled one out, and stuffed it into Niu Yiqun's mouth. He tossed the opened pack onto the table next to Niu Yiqun's arm.

He then struck a match and lit the cigarette for him, saying fawningly, "Here, Uncle, have a smoke. Let's chat after you finish!"

Niu Yiqun put down his pen, took a deep drag, removed the cigarette from his mouth, exhaled, and said with a stern face, "What kind of trouble are you trying to stir up now, you little brat?"

Wang An replied with a smile, "I caught two roe deer yesterday. I was thinking of going to the county seat to trade them for some oil, salt, sauce, and vinegar, and maybe get a few feet of cloth to make some cotton-padded clothes for the three little ones!"

Niu Yiqun was stunned; these were legitimate matters! He looked Wang An over carefully, thinking, "How did this kid change his nature? Has he actually turned over a new leaf?"

Niu Yiqun had watched Wang An grow up and knew the temperament of every child in the village like the back of his hand. He knew exactly who was good and who was bad.

And Wang An was the epitome of a mischievous, good-for-nothing troublemaker!

He wouldn't do farm work, and he’d even been kicked out of school! In Niu Yiqun's mind, Wang An was definitely a "bad kid."

Wang An was self-aware and rarely approached the village cadres. If it weren't for needing to borrow the mule cart, he wouldn't have come at all!

Niu Yiqun asked, "So, what does telling me this mean?"

"Well, I don't have a cart! I was hoping to discuss borrowing the brigade's mule cart for the day!" Wang An said, still grinning.

"Oh! That's fine. Go to the stable and hitch the cart. Tell Old Cripple Wu that I said so." Once Niu Yiqun heard it was for a legitimate purpose, he agreed readily.

"Alright, thank you, Uncle! You keep busy, I'll be off." Wang An turned to leave.

Niu Yiqun shouted, "You left your cigarettes!"

Wang An didn't even look back: "Those are for you, Uncle."

"This little rascal, he's even learned how to do this now!" Niu Yiqun grinned, shook his head, and went back to his writing.

Old Cripple Wu was a widower in his fifties with a limp. No one in the village ever discussed how it happened or what his situation was. Everyone just knew he was the one who looked after the livestock (horses, oxen, mules, donkeys). He had no other presence and was like an invisible man.

Wang An arrived at the stable and saw Old Cripple Wu tending to the fodder. He called out with a smile, "Uncle Wu, busy? I came to see you!"

Old Cripple Wu put down his work and responded with a smile.

Wang An reached into his pocket, took out the Putao cigarettes, lit one for Old Cripple Wu, explained his purpose, exchanged a few pleasantries, and then shoved the rest of the opened pack into Old Cripple Wu's hands!

Old Cripple Wu was quite pleased. He personally selected a mule, helped Wang An hitch it to the cart, and said, "This mule is docile, strong, fast, and can handle the night roads!"

Wang An thanked him with a smile: "Many thanks, Uncle Wu. I might be back late, so please bear with me!"

Old Cripple Wu laughed and said it was no problem. Seeing Wang An about to leave, he grabbed half a bag of fodder, threw it onto the cart, and told Wang An to feed the mule when he wasn't using it.

Wang An thought to himself that the cigarettes were well worth it; otherwise, he would have had to prepare the fodder himself! Livestock on long trips or doing heavy work needed extra feed, just like people needed to eat more when doing physical labor.

Driving the mule cart home, he began to load the goods. After loading what he intended to sell, Wang An used a burlap sack to wrap up the 56-semi-automatic rifle filled with bullets and brought it along. Yesterday's experience forced Wang An to be cautious!

Leaving home, Wang An drove the mule cart (mules are the offspring of horses and donkeys; they have good stamina and strength, with the only drawback being they cannot reproduce) at a trot, blowing through the chilling winter wind as he headed toward the county seat.

There was a small market in a corner of the county seat. Although the winds of private enterprise hadn't fully blown here yet, the county had long been turning a blind eye to the buying and selling of agricultural and sideline products over the past few years!