Chapter 66

Ye Wulan looked at her with a gentle smile. “It truly is a good idea.”

Most shamans considered their status too noble to do such things. They usually chose to serve as tribal healers, cared for and supported by their own tribes.

Still, Ye Wulan gently reminded her, “If you do that, others might look at you strangely. Baizhi, doesn’t that bother you?”

Ye Baizhi smiled. “Not at all.”

“We can’t let others’ opinions stop us from doing the things we believe are right.”

“A lot of what I plan to do in the future might seem unconventional to others.”

Ye Wulan lowered his gaze to her, his stunning eyes filled with gentle light. “Then I’ll listen to you.”

No matter what she chose to do, he would support her and be by her side.

To Ye Baizhi, having someone who trusted and stayed with her—it was a truly comforting feeling. She had always been afraid of being alone, deep down.

Perhaps because the candied hawthorns (tanghulu) were delicious, well-received, and inexpensive, many beastmen came to buy them. Over a hundred skewers were sold out by midmorning.

Ye Baizhi tucked the blue spirit stones into her spatial pouch, planning to count them once she got home.

Later, when customers who’d tasted them returned to buy more, Ye Baizhi waved her hand and said, “They’re gone—completely sold out.”

“What? But they were so delicious! Can’t you make a few more?”

Ye Baizhi let out a sigh. “To be honest, big brother, making candied hawthorns is a bit complicated—you have to remove the seeds too. It’s not something that can be made instantly.”

“Ah… then… will there be more in the future?”

Ye Baizhi nodded. “Yes, you can still get some. Come early tomorrow, and you’ll be able to buy it.”

“Alright, got it. The price won’t go up, right?”

Ye Baizhi smiled and explained, “Everything at my stall is fixed-price. The item and its price are set—it won’t change.”

“That’s good.”

After that beastman left, a few others came over, and Ye Baizhi told them the same—the candied hawthorns were sold out. Though a bit disappointed, they were pleased to know they could get some the next day. Many made up their minds to come earlier tomorrow.

Even though all the candied hawthorns had been sold, Ye Baizhi didn’t pack up the stall. She stayed, with only a bare grass rack left at the front.

Looking at the empty rack, she said, “I’ll get a piece of cloth embroidered with a gourd on it, so everyone will know this is the stall that sells candied gourds.”

On the Beast Continent, few beastmen could read. If she put up a sign with words, most people likely wouldn’t understand it.

The written characters of the Beast Continent weren’t truly characters—they were more like symbols, similar to pictographs. So Ye Baizhi thought it would be better to embroider an image instead. That way, people would understand it at a glance—clear and direct.

Da Bao blinked up at his mother and asked softly, “Mother, didn’t we make a lot of candied hawthorns? Aren’t we going to sell them?”

He was a little confused. He remembered clearly that he’d helped Mother and Father Ye make quite a few gourds earlier.

Ye Baizhi looked at Da Bao’s adorably puzzled face and pinched his little cheek with a smile.

“Even though we really did make a lot, we can’t sell all of them at once.”

“This is called scarcity marketing—it’s the idea that rarity makes something more desirable.”

“First, we show people that our gourds are tasty and cheap. The hundred-plus skewers we sold were enough to spread the word around the village.”

“When those who came because they’d heard the buzz—or had already tasted and loved them—show up again expecting to buy more but can’t, their desire will only grow…”

“That way, over the next few days, everyone will be eager to get their hands on them.”

“Someone who originally only wanted one skewer might end up buying a few more all at once.”

“It’s not like I’m trying to make a living selling gourds every day—at two blue spirit stones per skewer, the profit’s slim. The goal is just to make sure everyone remembers our stall.”

“So when we start selling other things later, it’ll be easier to get them sold…”

Ye Baizhi patiently explained her thinking to Da Bao in detail.

Even Ye Wulan, listening to her strategy, was visibly moved. This kind of reasoning—it was the first time he’d ever heard anything like it.

It had to be said—their strategy seemed to be working remarkably well.

They didn’t pack up until nearly noon, and then took advantage of the stallholders wrapping up to browse the market themselves. “This time of day, most vendors are starting to pack up—it’s easier to bargain for better prices.”

The marketplace was a vibrant sea of goods and bustling crowds. Midday was the busiest time.

Ye Wulan carried Da Bao in one arm while carefully shielding Ye Baizhi from being jostled by beastmen passing by.

Ye Baizhi strolled along, browsing as she went. When she spotted a stall selling bamboo tubes, she approached and asked, “Vendor, how much is one of these bamboo containers?”

She knew the beastmen here often used bamboo tubes to carry water—they were indeed convenient, more so than small wooden buckets.

“Five blue spirit stones each.”

“What? That expensive?” Ye Baizhi was stunned—she’d thought one blue spirit stone per tube would be plenty. She hadn’t expected it to be so pricey.

The stall owner shook his head. “Young lady, don’t you know how pricing works?”

“These are already cheap.”

“Up north, there’s no bamboo at all—no way to make bamboo tubes. I had to transport these from the south. It took time and effort.”

“You see how many bamboo tubes I had this morning? There are only a few left now. If you buy in bulk, I can give you a discount.”

Ye Baizhi had initially considered using bamboo tubes to store canned goods and other items. If they were one blue spirit stone each, she could accept that—but at this price, it was too expensive for her.

No wonder her candied hawthorns, priced at two blue spirit stones a skewer, felt like a bargain—people were happy to buy one or two to try.

So, she had to abandon the idea of using bamboo tubes.

Making wooden buckets herself would be troublesome, too—she could use that time to prepare for more food instead. Then she remembered the three large gourds she got that morning, and her eyes lit up. In the future, she could use gourds for storage—they were just as practical and much cheaper.

She set down the bamboo tube and turned to browse the next stall.

Just then, someone shouted, “Suni! What’s wrong? Don’t scare me, Suni—!”

“Is there a healer? Please, someone, save my wife—!” A voice cried out in desperation.

The nearby crowd surged toward the commotion. “What happened?”

“She’s not breathing!”

“She’s already dead—there’s no saving her now.”

The male beastman suddenly shifted into his true form—a black panther—and broke into sobs.

“Suni, my wife—don’t leave us!”

Ye Baizhi hadn’t intended to intervene, but hearing the desperate cries of the panther beastman, she was reminded of Xue Youchen and Ye Wulan. A flicker of emotion crossed her face.

Ye Wulan had never treated anyone outside before, and truthfully, if there was no breath, there really wasn’t much hope. He looked at her and gently shook his head. “No signs of life—she’s gone.”

But Ye Baizhi’s expression sharpened. “No—she can still be saved!”

She strode over quickly and said firmly, “If you want her to live—step aside!”

Tears still clinging to his eyes, the black panther beastman’s hopeless face instantly lit up with a glimmer of hope. Without hesitation, he stepped back.

Ye Baizhi knelt and began her efforts to save her.