Zhao Chunhua’s expression was one of utter disbelief.

Without hesitation, she turned and ran down the mountain.

Madam Sun had just dug up half a basket of wild vegetables and was about to move to another spot when she saw her eldest daughter rushing over in a panic.

“What’s wrong? Did a ghost start chasing you?”

Zhao Chunhua panted, struggling to catch her breath. “A-Aunt, she… she found something amazing!”

Madam Sun quickly stood up. “What amazing thing?”

Zhao Chunhua didn’t know exactly what it was, but it was clean, white, and looked so tempting that she wanted to take a bite. It had to be edible.

She hurriedly led her mother to the spot.

Meanwhile, Cheng Wanwan had already dug up two lotus roots and left.

Her hands couldn’t handle the rough digging any longer, and she feared blisters if she continued.

“It’s… it’s right here!”

Zhao Chunhua jumped into the dried-up lotus pond, pointed at the freshly dug-up mud, and grabbed a small spade to keep digging.

Before long, she unearthed a long, thin object.

Madam Sun broke off a section and sniffed it cautiously before taking a careful bite.

Her eyes lit up.

The texture was powdery, slightly sweet, and tasted better than sweet potatoes.

It seemed edible, but she didn’t dare to eat more carelessly, so she spat it out after a taste.

“Let’s go. We need to ask your grandfather.”

Madam Sun grabbed two large leaves to cover the disturbed soil.

This was her daughter’s discovery, and it belonged to their Zhao family alone.

Hastily, she and Zhao Chunhua rushed down the mountain.

By this time, it was late morning, just in time for the family meal.

Grandpa Zhao had just returned from the fields and was sitting under the old pagoda tree, smoking his pipe and cooling off.

In the kitchen, Grandma Zhao was cooking a pot of wild vegetable gruel.

When she turned and saw Madam Sun carrying back only half a basket of wild vegetables, her expression darkened. “Two of you went up the mountain, and you brought back so little? Always lazy, eating and doing nothing…”

“Grandma! Mom and I found something edible!” Zhao Chunhua hurriedly pulled the lotus root from her basket. “Grandpa, Grandma, look! What is this?”

Grandma Zhao glanced at the mud-covered item.

It was dark and unremarkable, but after washing off the dirt, its pale yellow skin was revealed.

When cut open, the inside was smooth and pure white.

She handed it to Grandpa Zhao. “What is this?”

With his pipe still in his mouth, Grandpa Zhao frowned and examined the root.

He sniffed it, took a small bite, and suddenly, his cloudy eyes brightened. “This… this is jade bamboo shoots!”

Many years ago, when he had traveled far and wide as an apprentice in the south, he had seen these jade bamboo shoots before.

They were a delicacy, harvested quickly and rushed to the capital by fast couriers.

Even the locals could only eat the ones that were damaged or left over.

He had been lucky enough to taste them a few times—cooked with large bones, they made a delicious broth. Drinking a bowl on a snowy day was an unforgettable experience.

Unlike wild vegetables, jade bamboo shoots could truly fill the stomach. In times of famine, people in the south relied on them for survival, much like sweet potatoes.

His gaze burned with excitement. “Chunhua, where did you find this?”

Zhao Chunhua waved her arms excitedly. “Up in the deep mountains! A whole field of them, everywhere!”

Grandpa Zhao immediately made a decision. “Chunhua, go call your father, your second uncle, and get Da Wang and Er Wang too. Have them eat quickly—we’re all heading up the mountain!”

Grandma Zhao understood instantly—this was a lifesaving food source.

She hurried inside and brought out twelve bowls of wild vegetable gruel.

The strong laborers received full bowls, while the younger wives got half-bowls each, and the children only small portions.

Even with this careful rationing, the meal had used up two pounds of buckwheat flour and several pounds of wild vegetables.

After the meal, Grandma Zhao stayed behind to guard the house—and more importantly, the food supplies hidden inside.

The rest of the family set out for the mountain.

In these drought-ridden times, there was little farm work to do, so many men from other households also went to the mountains to chop wood and forage. It wasn’t unusual for the Zhao family to head up together.

They walked deeper and deeper into the forest, pushing past broad-leaved trees and thorny bushes, until they reached a valley.

The dried-up pond before them was covered in withered lotus leaves.

“These are lotus leaves!” Grandpa Zhao declared. “Lotus plants grow here—they produce lotus seeds, which are even more precious than jade bamboo shoots. Only the noble families in the capital get to eat them.”

Zhao Da Wang looked at his grandfather with admiration. “Grandpa, you sure know a lot.”

“When you’ve traveled far, you learn much,” Grandpa Zhao stroked his beard. “There’s a saying: ‘Reading ten thousand books is not as good as traveling ten thousand miles.’ That’s why I never made you all study.”

Zhao Er twitched his mouth. “Dad, are you sure it’s not because we couldn’t afford school?”

Zhao Da Wang and Zhao Er Wang burst into laughter.

Grandpa Zhao glared at them fiercely, then grabbed a tree trunk for support and jumped into the dried pond.

He paced back and forth, seemingly just walking, but in truth, he was measuring the area.

After a full lap, he had his estimate: four and a half acres of land.

Given the lack of rain, the yield wouldn’t be great, but even so, they could harvest around seven to eight hundred pounds per acre—meaning nearly three thousand pounds in total.

The pond’s soil had hardened into dry mud, making the digging labor-intensive.

Even with all ten family members working, it would take half a year to harvest everything.

Standing by the bank, Grandpa Zhao finally spoke. “Da Wang, go fetch the village head.”

Zhao San frowned. “Dad, you’re not planning to let the whole village dig jade bamboo shoots, are you? We found it first, so it should belong to our Zhao family!”

“This is a huge pond—thousands of pounds of food. We can’t eat it all, and we certainly can’t dig it all ourselves,” Grandpa Zhao reasoned. “Besides, if Chunhua found it, others can too. The mountain to the west leads straight to Guihua Village. If they discover it first, Dahe Village will get nothing.”

Zhao San looked disgruntled.

Madam Sun remained silent, but her tightly pressed lips betrayed her thoughts.

Grandpa Zhao sighed. “Forget it. We’ll start digging today. Tomorrow morning, I’ll bring the village head over.”

Madam Sun quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

She wanted to secretly take some back to her mother’s family in Guihua Village. If she could tip them off early, they wouldn’t go hungry.

The Zhao family—eleven people in total—began digging.

Meanwhile, Cheng Wanwan led her four children down the mountain.

It was midday by the time they reached home.

She handed the two lotus roots to Wu Huiniang, who washed and cut a small piece before Cheng Wanwan took it and headed to the village head’s house.

Along the way, she passed dry, cracked fields. The men who should have been farming were instead sitting idly by, sighing helplessly.

Cheng Wanwan sighed too. Drought was a natural disaster, beyond human control.

She tried to ignore these bleak scenes and kept walking.

“Dashan’s wife, what brings you here?”

The village head’s wife was sewing in the courtyard when she saw Cheng Wanwan approaching. Her eyelid twitched involuntarily.

The last time this woman had come, it was to demand the village head settle a family dispute—causing an uproar. Who knew what trouble she was bringing this time?

Cheng Wanwan smiled. “Auntie, is the village head home?”

“He went to town,” the woman sighed. “It hasn’t rained in months, and the county magistrate is beside himself with worry. He called all the village heads for a meeting today.”

Her tone was clear—her husband was busy, and Cheng Wanwan’s trivial matters weren’t important.

“I’ll come back later, then.”

Without explaining, Cheng Wanwan turned and left.