Chapter Eleven: The Secret of the Great Blue Mountain

“They’re back, they’re back!”

“They actually caught so much game!”

“What are your third son and Wang Erhu carrying? My heavens, it’s a deer!”

As the hunting party descended from Great Green Mountain, the entire Elm Bay erupted with excitement.

Compared to the wild hares and pheasants, the two deer being carried back on poles by the hunters were the true stars in everyone’s eyes. The same thought flashed through every mind: this time, Zhao Hengyi and Old Wu were about to strike it rich.

A single hare could fetch over ten catties of the finest rice in the county town; a pheasant could be exchanged for twenty. Then how much grain could a whole deer bring? The shrewder villagers had already done their calculations—this haul from the mountains would let Zhao Hengyi and Old Wu live in comfort until the New Year.

Unprecedented wealth was electrifying the nerves of everyone in Elm Bay—exactly as Zhao Hengyi had hoped. In front of the village chief and all the villagers, Zhao Hengyi announced that he and Old Wu would each take thirty percent of the spoils, with the remaining forty percent divided among the hunters according to their performance over the past three days.

Everyone was stunned by Zhao Hengyi’s generosity! They couldn’t help but recall his nickname—Simple Hengyi.

Even if they thought him foolish, the next time he announced a new plan, they would all scramble to join in.

Zhao Hengyi paid no mind to the whispers and, smiling, scooped his seventh sister, Miao Xiaofang, into his arms, earning envious glances from his other five sisters.

Aunt Six and Sun Xiuying accompanied Miao Xiaoyu, who watched her husband, dusty and exhausted, with eyes brimming with tears.

Despite having company and caring for her six younger sisters, Miao Xiaoyu had not slept soundly once in the past three days. From the moment her husband stepped out the door, her heart had been carried away with him.

Now, seeing him return safely—not only with a bountiful catch, but even two deer—Miao Xiaoyu felt happiness welling up in her chest, ready to spill over.

The bustling crowd, the excited faces, the chattering aunts and sisters-in-law surrounding her all seemed unreal, as if she were in a dream—everything blurred except the sight of her husband grinning broadly as he held their youngest sister.

To her surprise, Miao Xiaoyu even felt a twinge of jealousy toward her little sister, and blushed at her own thoughts.

The thatched hut of Zhao Hengyi, which didn’t even have a proper wall, was livelier than ever before.

Families with sons in the hunting party came to express their gratitude, anxious not to lose their spots. Those whose family members hadn’t joined naturally wanted to curry favor and squeeze their own brothers or children onto the team.

All this had been foreseen by Zhao Hengyi. He left the decision to the village chief and the elders, making it clear there would be no more hunts in the near future.

This windfall was thanks to the advantage of having the new crossbows—next time, such rich game would be much harder to find.

Though the haul exceeded even Zhao Hengyi’s expectations, his mind was already elsewhere.

For during this trip, he had discovered another fortune—one so vast he dared not touch it yet.

There was salt in Great Green Mountain—rock salt!

Among the hunters near Dangyang County, this wasn’t much of a secret. Some even lay in wait for wild animals to come lick the exposed salt, hoping to bag a goat or a deer.

Everyone knew, though, that rock salt was poisonous. Wild animals might survive, but humans would die a terrible death if they consumed it.

But for Zhao Hengyi, extracting edible salt from rock salt was the simplest of tasks.

From what he’d observed, the reserves in Great Green Mountain were astronomical. If he could safely turn this rock salt into profit, becoming wealthier than a nation was not out of reach.

Yet in this decayed land of Great Yan, the largest cloth merchant family in Dangyang had been destroyed for inventing a loom that merely doubled production.

If word spread that the mountain’s rock salt could be refined into pure, glistening table salt, both the authorities and the imperial court would surely swoop in to seize it.

Having lived two lifetimes, Zhao Hengyi would never underestimate human greed; until the time was right, he would not dare approach the mountain’s secret.

Still, this bounty from the hunt gave him the means to embark on a new venture.

Now, in Elm Bay, Zhao Hengyi’s prestige rivaled even the old village chief’s. Whatever he wished to do would now proceed smoothly.

He would raise chickens—build a poultry farm to provide income for the elderly and children unable to do heavy labor.

Some families in the village had raised chickens before, but in Great Yan, where even wild herbs and grass seeds were staple foods, chickens were left free-range. Their growth and egg production depended entirely on luck. Moreover, with the village so close to Great Green Mountain, chickens were often snatched by wild animals, so few families bothered raising them.

Zhao Hengyi’s poultry farm, however, would be different. He would keep the chickens penned.

From a modern point of view, raising chickens required no grain—just dig up earthworms in the hills and use fallen leaves and roots to build a worm pit, ensuring an endless supply of feed.

Given the resources, he could even build heated sheds to raise maggots.

It might sound distasteful, but maggot farming was far easier than earthworms for producing ample chicken feed.

Chickens raised on worms and maggots would be robust, highly nutritious, and productive layers—the kind of gourmet fare only the wealthy could afford in Zhao Hengyi’s previous life.

Every beginning is difficult, of course, and Zhao Hengyi had no plans to do everything at once. He simply wanted to offer a way for children and the elderly, who could not do heavy labor, to make a living.

Through artificial incubation, the poultry farm could continually hatch new chicks. Once it was up and running, this envisioned farm could support all the people of Elm Bay.

All these ideas were discussed privately with the village chief and several elders after the crowds had dispersed.

Though the elders found his plans fantastical, the rich rewards from their recent hunts had earned Zhao Hengyi their trust.

Besides, the chicken farm would be built gradually and required little initial investment. Participation from villagers would cost only the effort of the children and old folk digging for worms in their spare time.

After their discussion, a simple worm pit was dug to mark the beginning.