Ch 5: The Farmer Ger in the Apocalypse

In the courtyard, the Miao brothers had finished gathering the grain and stacked it in the open space of the front yard, waiting for Village Chief Zhao to weigh it.

First were the freshly harvested peanuts, nearly 500 jin, cleaned of dirt and packed neatly into five large burlap sacks. Then came the various grains—white rice, sorghum, beans, and millet—all clean and of good quality, totaling about a few dozen jin each. This was the food that the Shen family had set aside for themselves for the autumn harvest. Altogether, it added up to exactly 700 jin.

Even the bag of white flour that Old Lady Shen had hidden in the cupboard was found and taken. She was so distressed that she nearly wailed, “That was just a small sack! It was for making dumplings during the New Year…”

Since the Shen family had many members, they had been able to store extra grain. Even so, Miao Xing was still picky, complaining that the rice wasn’t white enough and the flour wasn’t fine enough. Only the freshly harvested peanuts met his standards. He grabbed a handful and handed them to Miao Shi and Shen Qing.

“These peanuts are decent. Later, I’ll take them to town and trade them for coarse grain. Four to five hundred jin of peanuts can be exchanged for over a thousand jin of mixed grains. If you two are careful with your rations, it’ll last you more than half a year.”

No farmer kept all their peanuts for themselves—at most, they would save a small handful to roast for guests during the New Year. The Shen family had chosen to grow peanuts, a difficult crop to tend, precisely because they wanted to sell them for a good price. They were saving up for Shen Zhuang’s future bride price.

Miao Xing calculated that by selling the peanuts in town and exchanging them for cheaper grains like mixed flour, sorghum, or millet, they could stretch their food supply for nearly two years.

After all, how much could just the two of them eat? Farmers never ate pure grains lavishly. Meals were always stretched with vegetables, wild greens, and supplemented with sweet potatoes or potatoes to conserve food.

Thinking of this, Miao Xing added, “I didn’t take any sweet potatoes or potatoes. Those don’t fill you up like grain does. We grow plenty ourselves. Once they’re harvested, I’ll bring you a sack.”

These crops required little effort—especially sweet potatoes, which could be grown even on mountain slopes. They weren’t particularly valuable, so naturally, he would bring them the better-quality grains instead.

Shen Qing quickly thanked his uncle, “We don’t need to sell all the peanuts. Uncle, take some back for Qiao Niang, Xiao Shan, and Xue Niang to try. I cleaned them myself—they’re very fresh.”

He didn’t mention the older family members, but Qiao Niang and Xiao Shan were Miao Xing’s children, while Xue Niang was Miao Wang’s youngest daughter. They were all still young.

Shen Qing knew very well that today’s success in breaking free from the Shen family was entirely due to the backing of his two uncles. While they had their own interests, they had still put in significant effort for him and his mother. They were good people, and he was genuinely grateful to them.

Miao Xing waved him off. Shen Qing’s words were well-spoken, making him feel comfortable, but he wasn’t ignorant. Right now, Shen Qing and his mother were at their most difficult time—these peanuts were just snacks for his family, but they were a means of survival for Shen Qing and his mother.

“They’re too old for snacks. You two are the ones who need this food. Don’t be polite with me. As long as you can build a stable life and take good care of your mother, I’ll be at ease.”

Just as they were speaking, Village Chief Zhao arrived with the weighing scale.

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, each item was weighed one by one before being carried out by the men from Shiqu Village and transported to the house at the foot of the mountain.

Even though the Shen family was among the wealthier households in the village, they had now been stripped clean. All that remained were some sweet potatoes, potatoes, bran, and rice husks. But at this point, crying and protesting were useless—they couldn’t win in a fight, and the village chief wasn’t entirely on their side. The Shen family could only seethe in silence, cursing the Miao family, Shen Qing, and even Village Chief Zhao, without ever considering that they might be at fault themselves.

Meanwhile, a well-known gossip had already run off to inform Hunter Liu family.

Hearing that someone wanted to rent their old house, Hunter Liu and his fulang were overjoyed. The two of them personally came over to help tidy up the place.

The house had once been Hunter Liu’s bachelor home, located at the foot of the mountain near the path leading into the woods—very convenient for hunting. But after he got married, he worried that the wild animals from the mountains might come down and scare his fulang and children. So, they had moved to his fulang’s village, Xiahe Village.

Over the years, Hunter Liu had saved up some money from selling large game and had even bought land and a new house in Xiahe Village. The old house in Lantang Village had been sitting empty ever since.

It was too far from their current home, and even using it for storage was inconvenient. Now that they could rent it out for 500 wen a year, it was like free money falling into their laps. Hunter Liu’s fulang was so happy that he could barely contain himself, and the couple hurried over to Lantang Village.

This courtyard wasn’t particularly old, but a house without people quickly deteriorates. The thatched roof had begun to rot, and when Shen Qing and his mother arrived, Liu Hunter and his fulang were carrying fresh bundles of straw to repair it.

Shen Qing had passed by this house many times on his way up the mountain, and in a way, it seemed he and the Liu family had some fated connection. However, he had never stepped inside before, so this was his first time seeing the place up close. Because it was near the back mountain and prone to wild animals wandering in, the courtyard walls were built extra high and sturdy—taller than a person.

The yard itself was quite large. Perhaps because a hunter needed space to store tools and process game, there was even an area left open for additional sheds. Both the front and back courtyards were spacious, covering about half a mu of land in total. In the back, there was a sizable underground storage cellar, but the house itself consisted of only three main rooms, with a straw-covered shed at the entrance that had originally been used to tie up livestock.

Among the three main rooms, the central one served as the main hall in the front, with a partitioned kitchen in the back. The eastern room had been Hunter Liu’s former bedroom, while the western room was used as a storage space.

The eastern room already had a built-in kang bed, and the main hall had a sturdy wooden table and benches, but there was little else. The emptiness of the house made it feel particularly spacious.

After finishing the roof repairs, Hunter Liu went off to collect the rental payment from the Shen family, leaving his fulang behind to host Shen Qing and Miao Shi.

Hunter Liu was a tall, imposing man, and his years of hunting had given him a certain air of bloodied intimidation. The Shen family had been bold enough to argue and cause trouble in front of the Miao brothers and the village chief, but when they saw Hunter Liu blocking their doorway like a solid wall, they didn’t dare say a word. With pained expressions, they quickly handed over the money.

Meanwhile, Hunter Liu’s fulang was leading Shen Qing and Miao Shi around the house, tidying up as he spoke.

“…Before you arrived, I had my husband check the kang bed. The chimney and flues are all clear, so you’ll have no trouble using it when winter comes in a couple of months. We just finished patching up the roof—have a look around. If there are any places we missed, let me know, and my husband will fix them. No need to be polite.”

Though the Liu family now lived in a neighboring village, in just a short time, someone had already passed along all the Shen family gossip to Hunter Liu. Knowing the circumstances, his fulang looked at Shen Qing and Miao Shi with clear sympathy.

“If you need any help, just let us know. My husband is home all day with nothing to do. If you plan to stay here next year, you can delay the rent a little if necessary…” He hesitated before adding in a lower voice, “But, uh… not too late.”

Shen Qing nearly laughed but felt more touched than anything. This was a complete stranger, a man he had never met before, yet he was offering kindness. It was already more than enough.

“Thank you. We’ll probably stay here next year as well. I’ll do my best to pay the rent on time.”

Hearing this, Hunter Liu’s fulang beamed, clearly pleased with the arrangement.

Five hundred wen per year—Shen Qing quickly calculated in his head. If he worked hard and endured some hardship, he could definitely earn enough. But ideally, he wanted to save even more. With the compensation he had taken from the Shen family, he could start looking for land to buy. A brick house would be too expensive, but he could build a mud house himself. Owning a home would be far more secure than renting.

However, it would likely take more than a year to save enough, so for now, they would have to rent.

As he made his mental plans, Miao Xing and Miao Wang finished moving everything inside and stepped out of the western storage room just in time to overhear Shen Qing’s conversation with Hunter Liu’s fulang.

Miao Xing cut in, “Qing Ge’er, what’s your plan from here? Seeing how you handled things at the Shen house, it doesn’t seem like you left on impulse. You must have thought things through.”

“I plan to chop and sell firewood,” Shen Qing answered without hesitation. “I’ve already tried selling firewood in town before. I made some money, but I never let my family find out.”

Shen Qing had carefully considered everything before making the decision to leave. He had made sure he and his mother could survive on their own before speaking up.

He reached down and felt for the hatchet still tucked at his waist. The Shen family had refused to give them any farmland or farming tools, but no one had thought to take away the hatchet he had used to intimidate them. That would come in handy now.

“So you’re planning to be a woodcutter.” Miao Xing clicked his tongue.

In the village, most people didn’t rely on chopping wood. Typically, after the grain harvest, some of the leftover stalks were used for taxes and military supplies, while the rest became household firewood for the year. If that wasn’t enough, families would collect dried branches and twigs while gathering wild vegetables or feeding pigs.

For households with many children, sending them out to gather firewood was usually enough to last the year. Only families with very little land—or those preparing for winter—would go into the mountains to chop firewood in earnest.

But in town, things were different. The county town had neither fields nor mountains, which meant every bundle of firewood and every leaf of vegetables had to be bought. And since town folks were willing to pay, they were also picky. Firewood had to be cut into uniform sizes, and high-quality wood—like fruitwood—sold for even better prices.

Shen Qing had noticed this when he was carrying rice to town for sale. He had seen people selling firewood at the trade yard and had paid close attention.

Later, during slower farming seasons, he had secretly gone into the mountains to chop wood and carry it to town. At first, he was inexperienced—his wood was unevenly cut, not properly dried, and sometimes not even a full load. Merchants also took advantage of him, pressing the price lower since he was just a lone ger. But after a few trips, he learned the market rates and became more skilled. Now, he was confident—he could sell a full load of firewood for forty wen, and a bundle of dried grass for twenty wen. No one could trick him anymore.

Miao Shi, who was laying out the bedding in the eastern room, overheard and called out through the window, “No wonder you were always running off into the mountains, sometimes bringing food back.” Her voice carried a trace of worry.

“I wasn’t always just chopping wood. I only learned how profitable it was last year when we sold the autumn harvest,” Shen Qing admitted. He had never considered it before since firewood in the countryside was free. If he had known sooner—and if he hadn’t been tied down with farming work—he could have saved even more than just a few hundred wen.

It sounded like a promising way to make a living.

In an era where a laborer in town barely made one or two hundred wen a month, selling firewood for forty wen a load was excellent income.

So why was Miao Shi still worried? Why was Miao Xing clicking his tongue in concern?

Because being a woodcutter—though profitable—was also extremely dangerous.

If it were easy money, wouldn’t everyone in the village be doing it? Rural people weren’t afraid of hard work—they were willing to labor for every coin they could earn.

But cutting firewood meant going deep into the mountains.

The trees near the village were communal property, shared by all the households. People used them for building homes and making furniture. Taking a few branches for firewood was fine, but cutting and selling them for personal profit? That would stir resentment.

Besides, there weren’t enough trees nearby to support daily chopping.

That meant heading into the deeper forests, where wild animals roamed. Running into a tiger or bear was a death sentence. Even encountering a wild boar could mean never making it back.

On top of that, deep in the mountains, if you twisted an ankle or got injured, there was no one around to help.

Shen Qing saw the worry in their eyes and reassured them, “Mother, Uncle, don’t worry. I know what I’m doing. I’ve been in the mountains since I was little. Even if I wasn’t chopping wood before, I was gathering fruit and eggs. I know my way around. If I had only relied on the Shen family’s scraps, I would’ve starved long ago.”

That was the truth. Shen Qing was eager to make money, but he wasn’t reckless. He had brought his mother out to live independently—if something happened to him in the mountains, how would she survive? Just for her sake, he couldn’t afford to be careless with his life.

They had left the Shen family to live a better life, not to die out in the wilderness.

He truly did know the mountains inside and out.

After Shen Zhang died, Shen Zhigao’s attitude toward them had changed drastically, and the rest of the Shen family followed suit. Even the younger ones, Shen Zhuang and Shen Xiaojun, dared to bully them. They were given the hardest chores and the worst food—rice porridge so thin it was practically just water, with barely enough grains to count on ten fingers.

When Shen Qing was around eleven or twelve—just when he was growing the fastest—he was constantly starving. He had no choice but to run into the mountains in search of food.

At first, he ate whatever he could find—sour wild fruits that made his teeth ache, raw shepherd’s purse and water celery. If it could go in his mouth, he ate it. Some of the village women, out of pity, would slip him a cucumber from their gardens or some wild fruit they had picked.

But after spending more time in the mountains, Shen Qing started to expand his food sources. He learned to find and roast bird eggs.

The reason he had gained such a fierce reputation in the village was because of one incident—some boys had tried to snatch the roasted eggs he had saved for Miao Shi. Shen Qing, furious, had grabbed a wooden branch as thick as his forearm and chased them for two li.

From then on, if anyone tried to bully him or steal from him, he would fight back as if his life depended on it.

And as the saying goes, the bold fear the reckless, and the reckless fear those who have nothing to lose.

Shen Qing was so ruthless in a fight that even two or three boys together couldn’t take him down. That was how his reputation for fierceness spread—it wasn’t just talk, he had actually beaten them until they were afraid of him.

But there were only so many resources near the village. Other boys went into the hills to steal bird eggs for a snack. Shen Qing, however, relied on them to fill his stomach. It was never enough.

So he had to go deeper into the mountains.

“This is where we owe a lot to Grandpa Liu,” Shen Qing said, glancing at Hunter Liu’s fulang.

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