An eight-year-old kid emptied his scumbag father's warehouse and followed his grandparents into

The old fisherman rubbed his forehead hard with the backs of his hands, which were covered with calluses and cracked like tree bark. The rough skin made a rustling sound when rubbed against it.

He couldn't tell whether it was sweat or splashed sea water on his forehead. Under the scorching midday sun, the crystal water droplets sparkled with tiny light, like grains of salt sprinkled on his forehead.

The other three were all young men in their early twenties. Perhaps because they saw that the girls were unfamiliar and well-dressed, which was in stark contrast to their own tattered clothes, they were too reserved to talk to them. However, the young men could not help but glance at the girls.

His eyes were filled with the simple curiosity typical of a young man from the seaside, mixed with the shyness and uneasiness of meeting a young lady from a wealthy family. He glanced away like a frightened bird and quickly looked away.

"Four people can pick up so many eggs in a day, wouldn't they be rich?" Xiaoman's fingers fiddled back and forth in the basket. He touched every egg, and his fingertips carefully felt the texture of different eggshells - some were smooth like glaze, some were rough and granular, and some were covered with dried seaweed.

Seeing the mountain of bird eggs, he couldn't help but feel envious. His eyes lit up like he had discovered a pirate's treasure, and even his breathing became rapid. "If we could also collect so many eggs every day, Qingshan Manor wouldn't have to waste food to raise chickens and ducks."

I think of the chickens and ducks that my parents raised in the farm, and how they fed them several large basins of leftovers mixed with rice bran every day. The dust raised by the chickens when they flapped their wings and the clucking sounds seem to be right next to my ears.

Compared with the seabird eggs in front of him that he had obtained without any effort, it was like a pie in the sky - a bargain for free. His tone was full of simple yearning for this kind of unearned gain.

"Get rich? What kind of wealth do you want? One family can't get much." The old fisherman glared at Xiaoman unhappily. There was a hint of reproach in his cloudy eyes as if to say "Why don't you eat meat porridge?", and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes became deeper.

"Don't underestimate us, my dear. There are several boats behind us that are full of people!" He added, his voice hoarse but resonant, like the sound of a conch shell polished by decades of sea breeze.

"Little brother, do you think we pick them up every day? We only pick them up once every five or six days. We can't go if the wind and waves are strong." As he said this, he used his cracked nails to pick at the dried salt stains in the cracks of his nails.

"Yes, almost all of us in the village have gone out." A young man also explained loudly, his dark face flushed from being burned by the scorching sun, and beads of sweat flowed down his neck into the patched coarse cloth collar.

He counted on his calloused fingers, "Apart from the strong laborers fishing, only the old and young are left at home guarding the village. Even children as young as six or seven have come along to collect eggs."

Although their tone was filled with complaints and fatigue, the young men still showed satisfied smiles when looking at the full cabin of harvest. The smiles made the corners of their mouths, which were chapped by the sea breeze, bleed slightly.

"What kind of eggs are these? Are they for you to eat? Will they be used to hatch birds?" Xiaoman's questions were like a machine gun. She didn't even know she was being rejected. Like a child eager to learn, her fingers were still drawing circles on a blue-gray egg.

"I give you eggs every day, don't you get tired of it?" The young man couldn't help but stop him again, making an exaggerated frown and revealing his teeth stained black by betel nut.

"The sky is full of seabirds. Do we still have to go through the trouble of hatching eggs? Can they be raised without food?" He pointed to the flock of birds circling in the distance. The white dots looked like sesame seeds scattered on blue silk.

Xiao Man was silent, but in fact, he was not convinced. How could he get tired of eating eggs every day? He thought of the scrambled eggs with chopped green onions made by the village cook, the golden egg liquid sizzling in the hot oil.

There was also the runny boiled egg, after it was punctured, the yolk flowed into the porridge like molten gold... Thinking about it, my Adam's apple rolled up and down unconsciously and I swallowed my saliva.

"Uncle, do you usually sell these eggs at the market? Are they expensive?" Jing Chunxi spoke at the right time, and her slender jade fingers gently brushed across a basket of eggs with different patterns. The light pink nail polish on her nails formed a sharp contrast with the rough eggshells.

She became interested in this natural gift, with a rare shrewd glint in her eyes. She was already calculating in her mind how many boatloads of eggs would be needed if each soldier in the Northern Frontier added an egg every day.

Eggs are very nutritious. If those men guarding the border could eat scrambled eggs that taste like home, they would probably laugh out loud even in their dreams.

Xu Zize glanced at her, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips, a tacit understanding hidden in the corners of his eyes. "Selling these eggs should solve the villagers' daily necessities."

His voice was low and gentle, but he spoke with great certainty. His slender fingers tapped rhythmically on the plank beside him, as if he was calculating something.

"You're joking, sir," the old fisherman rubbed his rough palms and said jokingly, "Would you like to sell it to us? Just give us some food."

As he spoke, he glanced at the half-sack of moldy grain in the corner of the cabin, which was the rations rescued after the last storm.

They definitely don't want salt, but people living by the sea have no shortage of it - they pick up a few buckets of sea water, filter it with coarse cloth several times, and then boil it in a black iron pot to make rough salt. There are always damp salt blocks piled next to the stove.

"No problem. How many do you have?" Qingfeng took over the conversation, his eyes quickly scanning the baskets to estimate the number. "It's just that some of the eggs are too small." He deliberately picked up an egg smaller than a quail egg and shook it. "They're not even enough to fill a gap. If it's cheap enough, we might consider it."

This bargaining style was clearly a legacy inherited from his master. Green Shadow also came over to join in, the two singing the same tune.

"How many do you have? Plenty! I'm just afraid you can't take them all. The price is negotiable." Only then did the old fisherman truly believe that they were not asking casually. His bloodshot eyes lit up, and even his hunched back straightened a little.

"The eggs we picked up the first two times haven't been divided up yet," he pointed to several ships in the distance. "These eggs are not difficult to pick up. The residents of this small town don't want them, and they can't be sold for many copper coins. We villagers are thinking of collecting a few more and taking them to the county government to try and see if we can sell them for a good price." As he spoke, he glanced at everyone with expectant eyes, like a drowning man seeing a floating wooden board.

Taking them to the county government was just his own nonsense. Who would dare take such a risk? Not to mention whether they could sell them for a high price, the eggs would be shattered and bumped along the way, and there was no doubt they would become a pile of broken shells by the time they got there.

"Who in the village has the final say? Let's see how many there are in total. If the price is right, we'll cover it all." Qingfeng's voice was steady and powerful, his fingers stroking the purse at his waist. "We also want to buy some fish and shrimp for lunch."

"I'm an old man, and I have the final say!" The old fisherman suddenly became more energetic, patting his chest to assure him, his palms slapping against the patched collar of his clothes with a dull sound. "If you want to eat fish, come with us and talk to us in the village!"

Just looking at their attire, you can tell these people can afford it. The clothes they wear are made of silk and fine cotton, which are better than the clothes they wear during the New Year.

The carriages and horses and the guards with swords parked in the distance further demonstrated his status. The wrinkles on the old fisherman's face relaxed a little, as if he had seen the God of Wealth.

Seeing that Kuaijiao was older and his face was tanned, the old fisherman felt particularly friendly and actually walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder.

The palm was as rough as sandpaper, and it smelled of the sea and sweat, which almost made Kuaijiao stumble.

"If the deal goes through," the old fisherman grinned, revealing his missing front tooth, "the fish and shrimp will be free, and you can use the stove too. Our village will treat you!"

When he walked past Jing Chunxi, he deliberately lowered his voice and said, "Every household has conch shells, go pick a few, little girl." His tone was as if he was coaxing his own granddaughter, and was full of boldness pickled in the sea breeze.