Chapter 5: A Bountiful Harvest

“Phew—”

She collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.
Reaching up to touch her eyebrows—good, they hadn’t been singed off; the fire just now had almost scorched them.
She rolled up her sleeve and took a look—two deep crimson bite marks.
Quickly, she pulled out some disinfectant alcohol and sprayed the wounds a few times.

Then, using two large leaves, she wrapped up the snake—forcing herself to push through the lingering fear.
It was surprisingly heavy!

Finally, she went to check the pit.
Inside, the two plump rabbits were huddled together, one stacked on top of the other, trembling in a ball.
She glanced around and pulled up a handful of niu jin grass (a tough fibrous grass).

The hemp rope she’d casually brought when leaving the house turned out to be quite useful after all.

She gave her hoe a shake—its blade was a bit loose, but still usable.
Then she headed to the tree right next to the pit.

She tied a firm knot with the rope around the tree trunk,
grabbed the other end, and with the hoe and grass in hand, walked back to the pit.

She tossed the hoe and the grass down into the wider part of the pit,
then held onto the rope and lowered herself in.

Her foot landed on a hard rock, jabbing her sole.
The rope around her straw sandal slipped and cut painfully into her toe.

The noise startled the two rabbits, and they started leaping around in panic.

Ignoring them for now, she crouched down and used the niu jin grass to twist four lengths of grass rope.
Once they were ready, she reached out and grabbed a rabbit whose whiskers were still twitching.
She tied its front and back legs together.

Then she did the same with the second one, and tossed both rabbits up out of the pit.

Climbing out of a vertical pit was tricky, so she carved a few footholds into the dirt wall using her hoe.
After throwing the hoe up, she grabbed the rope and climbed out.

Once on top, she placed the rope on top of the wild vegetables in her basket.
Then hoisted the snake up, and finally grabbed the two rabbits—time to head home!

As she exited the mountain and looked toward the village, she saw smoke curling up from every household chimney.

She bounced the basket on her back—her heart felt full of satisfaction.

She was finally going to eat her first proper meal here—with meat!

Just before reaching the courtyard, she stopped and pulled out six eggs from her space.
Luckily, they looked like free-range eggs—small and rustic-looking.
She’d just say she found wild eggs from pheasants—Father Yu likely wouldn’t suspect a thing.

Looking at the bare courtyard, she started making plans.
They needed chickens, ducks, vegetable seeds—got to make full use of all this empty land.

“Yao Niu’s back—”

Father Yu was sitting on a stone, scraping thick clumps of mud off the soles of his straw shoes.
He turned to see Yu Nuan with a basket on her back and two rabbits in her hands.

Startled, he forgot all about scraping his shoes and rushed over to take the rabbits from her, also helping her unload the basket.

“Well, I’ll be—” Father Yu gasped.

Yu Nuan turned her head and saw that the snake in the basket had uncoiled itself.
Its blood still smeared the leaves—at first glance, it was actually pretty scary.

“You went to the back mountain?” Father Yu’s voice trembled, a lingering fear in his tone.

Such large snakes were rarely seen on the front mountains anymore.
Villagers combed through the forest every fall—there hadn’t been much left to find.

The back mountain still had some, but it was dangerous.
The deeper in you went, the more dangerous it got.

“Ah… I found it on the mountain just behind us. It fell into a pit, and I fished it out,”

She pointed toward the mountain behind the house.
She hadn’t fully understood what Father Yu meant,
but seeing the worry on his face, she tried to make it sound as mild as possible.

“You—you fell in that pit just yesterday, and you went back again?!”

Father Yu looked her up and down—lively and full of energy—but now he started wondering:
Did she hit her head too hard when she fell yesterday? Why would she climb into that pit again today?

Yu Nuan: “Huh???”

A moment later, realization hit her—
Ah, so the original host had died by falling into that pit.

No wonder the soil inside had been dark and smeared—probably dried blood from yesterday.

And the snake must’ve been drawn by the scent of blood,
arriving just as those two dumb rabbits had tumbled in.

Tch, that pit really was fated for her.

Yu Nuan let out an awkward chuckle. She didn’t know what to say—
just then, little Gou Wang started crying.

“Waaah—waaah—”

The baby’s wails weren’t sharp, but they were loud and clear.

She wiped her hands on her clothes and ran inside.

Thankfully, she had warmed up an extra bottle of formula earlier and stored it in her space—
the temperature was preserved inside, so it was ready to use at any time.

“Mama~ Is little Gou Wang hungry?” she cooed, lifting the baby from the bed.

She gave him a couple of gentle pats, then headed to the kitchen.

Pretending to act busy, she took out a bowl and spoon,
then used a knife to chip off a small piece of brown sugar.

She scooped a ladle of still-hot water into a bowl, then carried little Yao Wa back to her room.
Once inside, she quickly pulled out the bottle and tucked it into the baby’s arms.

Little Gou Wang was already familiar with the routine—his tiny hands steadily held the bottle,
and he began drinking with a loud “glug-glug” as if nothing else in the world existed.

He looked noticeably different from last night.
No wonder the elders always said that babies “grow when the wind blows”—changing every day.

After Gou Wang had his fill, she handed him over to Mother Yu and headed to the kitchen.

Father Yu was still sitting beside the basket, staring blankly.
Only then did Yu Nuan notice his ankle—black and blue, red and swollen, with several scrapes.

“Dad—what happened to your foot?” she squatted down quickly to check.

“It’s nothing! I’m just getting old… useless,” he muttered.

He had just gone into the village to look for his eldest son, only to be insulted and shoved around by his grandsons.
He had lost all dignity. At that point, who cared if he was injured?

“Please go rest in the room. I’ll cook dinner,”
Yu Nuan said, assuming he had just fallen or twisted it accidentally.

“This long bug… should we sell it?” Father Yu asked cautiously.

He knew the family hadn’t had meat in a long time.
His wife and youngest daughter needed nourishment,
but as an old man with a disability, he wasn’t capable of hunting for them anymore.

If they didn’t eat this, who knew how many years it’d be before they could afford meat again?

“We’re not selling it. We’ll cook it tonight,” she said firmly.

“I’ll go skin it then,” Father Yu said with relief.
They truly needed something hearty for once—especially Yao Niu,
who ate the least but worked the most.

Though she was sixteen, she looked no older than twelve or thirteen, thin as a cornstalk.
Enduring the pain in his ankle, he carried the snake over to the spring to prepare it.

Once he walked off, Yu Nuan circled behind the house.

Whether it was instinct to respect elders and care for the young,
or the lingering emotions of the original host,
she didn’t feel any deep affection for the two elders,
but she also couldn’t be cold-hearted toward them.

She suddenly remembered how, as a child, her grandmother used to crush a certain pungent herb
and apply it to wounds to stop bleeding and relieve pain—it was very common.

Sure enough, after searching behind the house, she found several patches.

She pulled a bunch and brought it back to the yard, rubbing it in her palms before slipping into the kitchen.

She mixed it with some powdered herbal medicine for injuries,
then went to find a strip of cloth and headed back toward Father Yu.

By the time she got there, he had already expertly skinned the snake.

“Dad, put this on your injury.”

He didn’t question it—the herb was well-known in the village.
But today, when it was applied, it didn’t sting like usual. Instead, it felt cool and soothing.

Yu Nuan wrapped his ankle with the cloth, tied a knot, and helped him up.
“How about you rest now?”

“I saw more stuff in the basket—are those edible?”

He recognized one type—it could be boiled into a decent sour and slippery dish.

To him, all wild vegetables just tasted like one thing: grass.
As for the other plant—wasn’t that just ground moss? He’d never seen anyone eat it.

Yu Nuan saw him pointing to the jelly ear.
“I’ve tasted it—it’s crisp and fresh. Should be edible. Let’s try it tonight.”

She originally wanted to say it was like wood ear fungus,
but wasn’t sure if people in this era even knew what that was.

“Oh, and I found the wild eggs in the grass near where I picked that.”

“Good, good, good—”
Father Yu said “good” three times in a row, but his tone was still heavy with worry.

“How do we prepare this stuff?” he asked, not wanting to be idle.

Seeing his insistence, Yu Nuan didn’t try to stop him.
Older folks tended to get lost in dark thoughts when they sat around doing nothing.

She handed him a straw stool and poured the jelly ear into a wooden basin.
Then asked him to wash off the dirt and debris.

Meanwhile, she picked up two segments of snake meat and paused to think.

Wouldn’t having both eggs and meat tonight be a bit too extravagant?

Besides, the snake meat alone weighed around 8 or 9 jin (roughly 4–5 kg). They couldn’t possibly finish it all.

“Dad, this snake is too big. How about we trade a piece for some grain?”

“I’ll go!” he offered immediately.

“No, you should stay home and rest.”

She went to the corner of the yard, grabbed a small woven basket, and lined the bottom with a big leaf.

Then she went into the kitchen, chopped off the snake’s head, and placed the fattest section into the basket.

“Dad, I’m heading out!” she called.