Reborn in 1985, starting from the mountains of Northwest China

"Yes, I'm back."

Chen Feng put down his basket, his face still covered in frost, but his eyes were filled with warmth.

This trip into the mountains was a trial run, and the results so far are a good start.

He squatted down and took out the items from the basket one by one, placing them on the floor of the main room.

Lin Xiu was carrying a bowl of hot soup noodles when she looked down and stopped in her tracks.

"This...so many?"

Chen Feng took the bowl and casually moved a stool for her.

"Xiuer, sit down."

His voice wasn't loud, but it gave people a sense of reassurance.

"Eat first, before it gets cold."

Lin Xiu didn't sit down. Her gaze fell on the pile of grayish-brown, tower-like mushrooms, and she froze: "This is...?"

Morel mushrooms.

Chen Feng leaned closer, lowered his voice, and breathed hot air into her ear, "Valuable goods."

He quickly finished cooking the noodles, deftly helped his wife tidy up the stove, and then went back into the inner room.

Under the dim light of the oil lamp, he carefully sorted the items. Those that were of uniform size and in good condition were placed on the left, while those that were slightly smaller or damaged were placed on the right.

"There's a market in the county town tomorrow morning; I'll be the first one there."

Without looking up, Chen Feng said, "Fresh goods can't wait."

Lin Xiu looked at the pile of mushrooms, then at her husband's hands, which were red and cracked from the cold, and her eyes reddened slightly.

"Are you... not hurt anywhere?"

Chen Feng paused in his work and looked up.

This was the first time she had asked him this question since her rebirth.

A warm feeling welled up from the bottom of my heart.

"It's okay, I'm fine."

He took her hand and patted it gently. "Thanks to Ta Xue."

"And this rabbit," he pointed to the corner, "we'll keep one for Nannan, and stew the other to nourish them both."

In the countryside, people rest early, and her children are already fast asleep. Only she keeps watch over this lamp, waiting for him to return.

The next day, while it was still dark, Chen Feng got up.

He changed into his neatest old jacket, carefully packed the mushrooms into a thick cloth bag, and lined the bottom with soft grass to prevent them from bumping into things.

Before leaving, Lin Xiu stuffed two still-warm multigrain cakes into his arms and then saw him off at the village entrance.

Under the old locust tree at the village entrance, two women, widows from the far end of the village, were waiting for a ride. They made a living by selling vegetables and other odds and ends.

One of them spotted Chen Feng and immediately raised his voice: "Hey, look who's here! Isn't this the cultured man from our village who went to sea?"

In the past, such words would have made Chen Feng so ashamed that he wished he could disappear into the ground.

Now that he was at peace, he pretended not to hear and nodded to Old Zhao, who was driving the cart.

Seeing that he didn't respond, the aunt turned to Lin Xiu and asked, "Chen family's daughter-in-law, are you going to the market today too?"

Lin Xiu, being shy, gave a vague reply.

"Alright, let's go now that everyone's here!"

Old Zhao, who was driving the cart, shouted and put away his tobacco pouch.

He was in his fifties, with an honest face, and was one of the few genuine people in the village.

In his previous life, when Chen Feng was down on his luck, it was Old Zhao who couldn't bear to see him suffer and helped him out.

Unfortunately, good deeds don't always go well. Later, Old Zhao's son was tricked into "doing business" and had his hard-earned money, which he had saved up for half his life, stolen.

Chen Feng paid the fare, three mao, enough to buy half a pound of fatty meat.

Sitting next to him was Wang Dahe from the east end of the village.

This person is idle, short-sighted, and a gossip.

Sure enough, as soon as the car started moving, Wang Dahe leaned over and glanced at Chen Feng's bulging pockets: "Third brother, what treasure is all that stuff covered up?"

Chen Feng stepped aside to block him, a faint smile on his face: "I just rummage around in the mountains to make a little money for oil and salt."

"Mountain produce is a rare treat this season!" Aunt Sun chimed in.

She was Zhang the blacksmith's wife, and she was well-informed.

"Yesterday my husband told me you went into the mountains and caught some wild game? If you want to sell fresh produce, go to 'Renhetang' on East Street and ask. They're honest and fair to everyone."

"Oh, thank you for the advice, Auntie."

Chen Feng noted it down.

This is the place he wanted to go.

Wang Dahe curled his lip: "What business is easy to do these days? They're ruthless with price-cutting, don't expect too much."

Chen Feng just smiled and didn't say anything more, turning his gaze out of the car.

The sky was turning a pale white, and the morning mist was thick.

The mushrooms in my arms emitted a faint, almost imperceptible fragrance.

The carriage swayed and rocked from the mule cart's bumps, and the chatter gradually subsided.

Someone took a nap.

Chen Feng leaned back on the car floor, eyes closed, but his mind raced:

"Renhetang"... a time-honored brand, the owner knows its stuff.

But businessmen have a keen eye; seeing that he was a stranger and a country bumpkin, they couldn't resist trying to lower the price.

The best-looking bag is the "showcase," so don't give up on it easily.

Explore the possibilities first, even if they have flaws.

Prices can't be too low, but we can't afford to delay in stocking fresh goods either...

The mule cart creaked and groaned for more than an hour before the gray city walls of the county town finally emerged from the morning mist.

The market was already awake.

The streets were bustling with noise: steaming breakfast stalls, mountains of vegetables, the cries of live poultry, and the shouts of bargaining... all blending into a lively symphony of everyday life.

Chen Feng didn't linger on the bustling main street. He tightened the pockets on his shoulder and turned into a slightly quieter alley.

The sign for "Renhetang" is right in front of us, with black background and gold lettering. It has been worn slightly dark by the years, but it is still clean.

The shop was dimly lit, and a rich, mellow aroma of Chinese herbs wafted through the air, mixed with the complex scents of dried mushrooms, tangerine peel, and other mountain products.

Behind the counter, an elderly gentleman wearing round glasses and a dark gray cotton robe was meticulously weighing the medicinal herbs with a small brass scale.

Hearing footsteps, he looked up, his gaze behind his glasses calmly landing on Chen Feng.

"Good morning, shopkeeper." Chen Feng stepped forward, his tone neither humble nor arrogant.

"Good morning." The old man put down his small scale. "Would you like to pick up the medicine or inspect the goods?"

"Let me check the goods." Chen Feng carefully put down the bag on his shoulder.

Instead of touching the small cloth bag containing the top-quality mushrooms first, he took out another slightly larger cloth bag from his large pocket.

Unwrapping it reveals morel mushrooms of slightly lower quality, varying sizes, or with minor damage.

"Shopkeeper, please take a look. Do you accept this kind of product? What's the price?"

His tone carried an appropriate degree of probing and uncertainty.

This is "testing the waters," using inferior goods to gauge the shopkeeper's bottom line and sincerity, and also to avoid revealing the best cards right away.

The old man bent down, examined them carefully, picked up one or two to look at the stems and damaged areas, and said in a flat tone: "Hmm, morels. The quality is a bit low, there are some bumps and bruises, they don't keep well... These are thirteen yuan a pound."

Chen Feng felt more confident.

Thirteen, for inferior goods, this is a fair price.

This shows that the shopkeeper is not the kind of unscrupulous merchant who deliberately tries to drive down prices to the bone.

"What if...the ones in even better condition?"

He asked the question without stopping, taking out the small cloth bag and unfolding it layer by layer.

When the morels, with their uniform size, plump caps, and bright colors, came into view, the old man's eyes behind his glasses lit up slightly.

He picked up a flower, examined it carefully against the light for a long time, smelled it, and then gently put it down.

"That's a different matter..."

His tone became more serious, "It's not easy to get something in this condition at this time of year. How many are there?"

"That's all, about two pounds," Chen Feng replied.

The old man pondered for a moment: "Top-quality fresh goods are rare on the market. I can only offer eighteen yuan per catty at most."

Chen Feng's mind raced.

The price is slightly better than expected, especially considering the decent quality of the defective goods.

All told, it's around seventy or eighty.

Established brands certainly have the confidence to back up their claims.

But a hint of embarrassment appeared on his face at the right moment, and he said with a wry smile, "Shopkeeper, you're an expert, so I won't lie to you. I spent two days in the old forest for this little bit of stuff, and almost died in a ravine. The cold winter here... How about twenty yuan for the top-quality stuff? The lower-grade stuff will be as you say."

The old man raised his eyelids slightly, his gaze lingering on Chen Feng's face for a moment.