As soon as it started raining today, Jiang De and Zhao Meilian grew anxious—not because of their crops, but because they were worried about their second son’s leg.  

Ever since their second son injured his leg, it had left him with chronic pain. Whenever the weather turned overcast or rainy, the pain would flare up so badly that he couldn’t sleep.  

As parents, their hearts ached for him, but what could they do? Nothing!  

So whenever it rained, the couple would instinctively glance at Jiang Junqing. Even if they didn’t notice anything unusual, they assumed he was just enduring the pain in silence—the boy had always been tough.  

After dinner, Zhao Meilian was preoccupied with fetching hot water, only to find out that Grandma Jiang had already boiled some—she, too, was concerned about her grandson.  

Zhao Meilan carried the hot water to Jiang Junqing, but to her surprise, he said his leg didn’t hurt at all!  

She was so shocked she nearly dropped the kettle. “Junqing, don’t lie to me. I know you’re considerate and don’t want us to worry, but how can we not be concerned about you?”  

Jiang Junqing himself seemed a little dazed. He shook his head. “Mom, it really doesn’t hurt. I didn’t even think about it until you mentioned it.”  

Then, it suddenly dawned on him. “I think… I might have Xiao’er to thank for this.”  

“What does Xiao’er have to do with it?” Zhao Meilian was puzzled. Holding the heavy kettle was tiring, so she set it down and rubbed her sore wrist. “Junqing, explain it to me properly.”  

Jiang Junqing then told her about how Jiang Le had given him dried “grass” to steep in water. By the end of his explanation, he sounded just as bewildered. “Xiao’er said back then that it could help with my leg pain, but I didn’t take it seriously. I drank the ‘grass’ water every day just to not waste his kindness—who knew it would actually work?”  

Zhao Meilian was also stunned. Since when was her Xiao’er so capable?  

“He said he read about it in a book and wanted me to try it,” Jiang Junqing added, then sighed. “Mom, studying really is useful. Good thing we let Xiao’er keep going to school.”  

Zhao Meilian nodded blankly. “You’re right, studying really is useful. Those gossipy women who keep saying paying tuition is a waste since he’s always at home—they should see how impressive our Xiao’er is! Even though he’s back home, he’s always got his nose in a book!”  

She had heard that the schools in town were in chaos. Compared to going there, it was better for him to study at home for now.  

Still, she’d also heard that the authorities were pushing for reforms. It probably wouldn’t be long before things returned to normal.  

The news that Jiang Junqing’s leg no longer hurt quickly spread through the family. Though they hadn’t voiced it, everyone had been worried.  

After hearing what happened, they all marveled at how amazing their Xiao’er was—even more so than the old Chinese medicine doctor in town.  

And it was true! That old doctor hadn’t been able to relieve Jiang Junqing’s pain, yet Jiang Le had managed it. Wasn’t their Xiao’er just incredible?  

Jiang Le had no idea that in the short time he’d been away, his family had practically elevated him to the heavens with praise. If he’d known, he would’ve been deeply embarrassed.  

After all, this was just something he’d heard from an elderly villager in his past life—and that villager had learned it from a skilled old Chinese medicine practitioner.  

If all the credit went to him, his face would’ve burned with shame.  

…

At this moment, Jiang Le clutched the steaming-hot dumplings as he jogged all the way to Yu Hezhong’s doorstep and knocked on the door.  

Before long, Yu Hezhong opened the door. Jiang Le slipped inside with familiar ease, set the dumplings down, and handed him a pair of chopsticks, urging, “Hurry, hurry, eat them while they’re hot! They won’t taste as good once they cool down.”  

Before Yu Hezhong could react, a meaty, fragrant dumpling was stuffed into his mouth. Instinctively, he chewed and swallowed.  

Jiang Le grinned—he had done it on purpose. If he hadn’t, Yu Hezhong would have likely refused out of politeness. But now that he’d already taken a bite, what excuse did he have to turn them down?  

Sure enough, Yu Hezhong finally processed what had happened and sighed helplessly. “You really…”  

“So? Tasty, right?” Jiang Le winked at him.  

“Delicious,” Yu Hezhong admitted honestly—because they really were.  

Living alone and not knowing how to make dumplings himself, it had been a long time since he’d had any.  

“Heh, let me tell you—I helped wrap these! I also chopped the filling. Half the dumplings you’re eating were made by me,” Jiang Le bragged.  

Yu Hezhong suddenly felt like the dumplings tasted even better. “They’re really good,” he said.  

Jiang Le beamed. “Then eat up while they’re still warm!”  

Yu Hezhong: “Mm.”  

Guagua tsked: [Host, look how easily you’ve charmed Yu Hezhong.]

Jiang Le protested: [What do you mean ‘charmed’? Was anything I said untrue? Did I not chop the filling? Did I not wrap the dumplings?] 

Guagua surrendered: [Yes, yes, it was all you.]  

Jiang Le hmphed proudly.  

Yu Hezhong ate quickly, but not in a rushed, ungraceful way. Jiang Le watched with great interest.  

Not wanting Yu Hezhong to feel awkward, he struck up a conversation: “It rained today—does that mean we can go up the mountain tomorrow?”  

“Let’s go in the afternoon, give the ground some time to dry,” Yu Hezhong suggested.  

Jiang Le nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll come find you here again then. Heh, I’ll gather some mushrooms.”  

The “Sweet n Yummy, I Love It” prize he’d drawn earlier was long gone, and Jiang Le didn’t trust his own hunting skills. Gathering mushrooms was achievement enough.  

Lately, the weather had been getting hotter, and mushrooms were becoming scarce. This might be the last good harvest before they disappeared entirely.  

The more he thought about it, the more determined he became to cultivate his own mushrooms.  

Especially during seasons when wild mushrooms were hard to find, their prices could rival meat. If he grew them at home, controlling the temperature would eliminate seasonal limitations.  

The other day, he had checked the storage room behind his house—it was noticeably cooler than outside, likely because of the trees shading it. Plus, the room was quite humid, perfectly meeting the conditions for growing mushrooms.

With suitable conditions in place, Jiang Le was even more determined not to give up. He decided to visit the town to see if there were any books on mushroom cultivation for sale—maybe even check the scrap station. Who knows? He might get lucky.  

Now that he at least had a clear goal, Jiang Le’s restless excitement settled somewhat.  

Meanwhile, Yu Hezhong was thinking about checking the traps tomorrow. After the rain, the chances of catching prey were higher.  

Both of them looked forward to their trip to the back mountain the next day, their moods lifted. After finishing the dumplings, Yu Hezhong washed the bowl and returned it to Jiang Le.  

At first, Jiang Le’s constant help had made Yu Hezhong uneasy, as if he owed him more and more. But now, he felt more at ease—after all, ever since Jiang Le gave him that precious medicine, the debt had already been too great to measure.  

Yu Hezhong’s mindset had gradually shifted. Instead of obsessing over how to repay Jiang Le, he simply resolved to do his utmost to be good to Jiang Le and his family.  

When Jiang Le returned home with the bowl, he found the entire family sitting around the dining area, their eyes fixed on him with unusual intensity.  

The scrutiny made his scalp tingle. “What’s going on?” he asked.  

Jiang Huan, never one to hold back, blurted out first: “Xiao’er, it rained today—and Second Brother’s leg didn’t hurt!”  

Jiang Le’s eyes lit up, and he looked at Jiang Junqing for confirmation. “Really?”  

Jiang Junqing reached down and rubbed his injured leg, nodding.  

A delighted smile spread across Jiang Le’s face. “That’s amazing!”  

He hadn’t been entirely sure whether the herbs would work for Jiang Junqing, so aside from telling him, he hadn’t mentioned it to the rest of the family to avoid raising false hopes.  

Now that it was proven effective, how could he not be thrilled?  

“Our Xiao’er is truly incredible—just by reading books, he found such a good remedy,” Grandma Jiang remarked sincerely.  

Once she spoke, the rest of the family chimed in with praise. Jiang Le’s face burned with embarrassment, and he coughed lightly to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Dad, Mom, Yu Hezhong mentioned that the crops in the fields are almost ready for harvest, right?”  

On his way back, he had glanced at the wheat fields from a distance—while the stalks were somewhat yellow, they still carried a tinge of green, which made him skeptical.  

“That’s right. Once this rain stops, we’ll harvest in another ten days or so,” Jiang De, an experienced farmer, could roughly estimate the right time for reaping.  

As for the wheat still being green? There was no need to worry. The crop changed daily, and in just a few days, it would turn a golden yellow.  

Zhao Meilian glanced at Jiang Junqing, then pulled Jiang Le aside. “Xiao’er, your father’s legs also ache from overwork. Can he drink that herb too?”  

Jiang De stiffened at her words. “When did I ever say my legs hurt?”  

Zhao Meilian shot her husband a knowing look—she was well aware of his stubbornness. “Just because you don’t say it doesn’t mean I can’t tell. Enough, I’m asking Xiao’er. Don’t interrupt.”  

Jiang De: “…” What could he say? His wife was only looking out for him.

Jiang Le wasn’t entirely sure if the herbs would work for his father, but he knew one thing for certain—the herbs had a “warming” property and weren’t suitable for people prone to internal heat. Other than that, there shouldn’t be any issues.  

Jiang Le said, “Let’s have Dad try drinking it first.”  

Zhao Meilian nodded with a smile. “Alright, we’ll give it a try.”  

The family sat together happily, chatting away. The rain had given them a rare moment of leisure. Once the wheat harvest began, they would be swamped with work.  

After harvesting and threshing the wheat, they’d hand it over to the production team, receive corn seeds, and then start planting corn. The whole process would keep them busy for at least a month and a half.  

But busy as they might be, farmers looked forward to this time of year all year round. Why? Because a good harvest meant they’d finally get their share of grain.  

With full bellies, how could they not be happy?  

The next day was bright and sunny. By the afternoon, the ground had dried up enough. Jiang Le glanced at the sky, decided the timing was right, put down his book, slung a basket over his back, and went to find Yu Hezhong.  

On the way, he poked Guagua: [What time is it now?] 

Guagua grumbled: [Host, are you using this system as a clock?]  

Jiang Le huffed: [I’m just asking!]  

Guagua relented: [4:23 PM.]  

It suggested: [Host, you could buy a watch.] 

Broke Jiang Le: [Great suggestion. Don’t suggest it again.]  

By now, Jiang Le had a decent grasp of prices. These days, a watch cost over a hundred yuan—plus a watch ticket! Pinching his imaginary pennies, he thought, A hundred yuan could buy so much good food. Why would I spend it on this? 

Just to tell time? He wasn’t that dumb.  

And most importantly—he had no money.  

Guagua sighed: [This system will work hard to assign you more tasks.]

Jiang Le: [Thanks, I guess.]  

When he reached Yu Hezhong’s door, before he could even knock, the other boy opened it—already wearing his own basket, with a sickle tucked inside.  

Jiang Le blinked in surprise. “How did you know I was here?”  

Yu Hezhong turned to lock the door. “I heard movement outside.”  

Jiang Le scratched his head. Was my walking really that loud?

As they set off, Jiang Le learned Yu Hezhong planned to check the traps for small game. Immediately, he started daydreaming: “Maybe there’s a whole nest of rabbits! Then we’d have so much meat!”  

Yu Hezhong chuckled but didn’t respond. A whole nest of rabbits? Those creatures weren’t stupid enough to leap into traps one after another.  

Of all the game he’d caught, rabbits were the most common. They bred quickly—no matter how many people hunted them, their numbers always bounced back after a while.