Chapter 104: Riding a Bicycle to the County Town

After reading the letter, Han Li couldn't help but feel a deep sense of reflection. The regions where these educated youths were sent differed greatly in wealth and organizational management, resulting in vastly different outcomes. Moreover, each person's outlook on hardship and happiness varied, directly impacting their lives.

No matter the circumstances, one must always paint a hopeful picture for oneself—it's better to see something unattainable than to fall into despair. After finishing the letter, Han Li found himself reluctant to sleep. He grabbed his lantern and headed to the outer room.

The temperature was just right, and he planned to make some cured meat. It wouldn't be as conspicuous as fresh meat when eaten, and it would be more convenient to send to his family. Han Li first took out the wild boar meat he had cut, washing it vigorously several times. Since it was wild boar, he soaked it thoroughly to draw out all the blood.

Once soaked, he began preparing the seasonings for curing. Though he had no secret recipe, he simply used bay leaves, Sichuan peppercorns, star anise, and fennel seeds. Additionally, following a local villager's stew recipe, he had specially gathered the bark of the Schisandra vine.

In this area, Schisandra held great significance—the fruit carried all five flavors at once: sour, sweet, bitter, salty, and pungent. The vine itself was sturdy enough to serve as a rope, often used by locals when climbing mountains or descending cliffs. The bark was prized as a stew ingredient, imparting a unique fragrance surpassing many modern seasonings.

Every year, villagers collected and dried some Schisandra bark, grinding it into powder to keep for cooking. Han Li lit a fire, added water to a pot, and steeped the spices and bark together to draw out their flavors. After cooling, he added white liquor, completing his unique cured meat marinade.

He then immersed the blood-soaked meat in the mixture and placed it in the cellar to soak for three to five days—the first step in making cured meat. With five wolf-like dogs and a hive of bees guarding his home, no one could enter his yard unnoticed. Moreover, Shanghe Village had always been peaceful; the chance of trouble now was minimal.

The next day at work, the team leader of the third squad reassigned the groups. Han Li’s previous partner, Aunt Zhang, was replaced by Aunt Ma; the families of Liang Wu and Wei Chunlan were grouped together. Everything appeared normal, as such shuffles were common, and no one suspected it was aimed at Accountant Zhang.

Days passed, and Shanghe Village remained as usual. Han Li had a private talk with He Mi, expressing his desire to be closer. Unfortunately, the response was much like before—exchange of words but no change. Though a bit disappointed, Han Li didn’t dwell on it; their relationship stayed the same.

He Mi often came by to help steam corn buns and do chores Han Li overlooked, a bond between friends yet more than acquaintances. He found comfort in this companionship.

Recently, Yun Yingying visited frequently to see the dogs, though Han Li never let her near the fierce wolves. After tasting a scallion pancake once, Hao Hongmin seemed much more energetic. She often went up the mountain with Qi Zhaodi, Yun Jingjing, and Yang Xiuying to gather things, always sharing the harvest with Han Li.

Overall, Han Li’s days were fulfilling—improving the bathhouse, studying the barefoot doctor manual, brewing deer antler glue, and curing meat.

After work that day, Han Li asked Village Chief Zhao for leave; he planned to visit the county seat tomorrow. He needed to cash in the meat stored in his spatial compartment and also resolve Qi Zhaodi’s cotton-padded jacket issue.

Seeing Han Li alone, Village Chief Zhao approved without question and kindly offered, “If you don’t want to take the bus tomorrow, you can ride my bicycle.”

Han Li gladly accepted the gesture. The bicycle would make his trip easier, allowing him to leave quickly if needed.

The next morning, despite no need to catch a bus, Han Li’s internal clock woke him promptly. After boiling water, practicing martial arts, washing, and eating, he rode Village Chief Zhao’s bicycle toward the county.

Near the city, Han Li glanced around to ensure he wasn’t followed, then slipped into a cornfield. When he emerged, he’d completely changed his appearance, donning period-appropriate clothes with unusually darkened skin and some grass clippings in his hair. Though early, it suited his plan perfectly.

First, he mailed all the letters at the post office, then treated himself to a hearty northeastern breakfast. Steaming hot wontons filled with fragrant pork, paired with crispy fried dough sticks, left his lips greasy but satisfied. The youtiao was especially good—he hadn’t had them in so long and packed a few to go, cleverly storing them in his spatial compartment to keep them warm.

While eating, sparrows helped him scout out seldom-visited places. He also checked pork prices: 0.89 yuan per jin, a penny higher than his last visit.

Han Li then locked the bicycle in the hospital’s bike shed. Sparrows took flight to keep watch, and he set off on foot toward the black market.

Having surveyed the area before, he knew which walls were low, which alleys dead ends. At the alley’s entrance stood a man who barely glanced at Han Li, muttering, “Five cents.”

Han Li replied, “I’ve got some meat here. If you want to find your boss, just say so.”

The man eyed Han Li’s basket suspiciously. “If it’s just that little meat, there’s a special place inside the alley for collections. No need to see our boss; I could even waive your entrance fee. Want me to find it for you?”

Han Li recalled seeing a frequently trafficked room last time he came. Since he had already found what he needed then, he hadn’t paid much attention. Now he knew it was the collection point.

“Okay, I don’t have much. I’ll go check it out myself.”

He intended to test the waters; his basket contained only pieces of pork neck meat, which nobody likely despised as it was fatty.

Soon he reached the small room, guarded by two large men who blocked his entrance.

“First time here? People are trading inside. Wait outside a bit—that’s for your own good.”

Han Li doubted their explanation; he suspected they simply wanted to limit the crowd to avoid theft.

“How do you know it’s my first time?”

“Regulars know. If we’re squatting or sitting, the room’s empty and you can go straight in. If we stand, it means someone’s inside. Got it?”

“Got it.”

He didn’t wait long before a heavily bundled woman, head lowered, emerged. Unaware of her thoughts, Han Li wondered if covering her face in this season only aroused more suspicion.

“You can go in now,” one of the men said.

“Thanks.”

Inside, Han Li saw a refined middle-aged man sitting at an eight-immortals table.

“Selling or buying?”

“I’ve got some pork to sell.”

Han Li put down the basket. The man examined it and frowned.

“All pork neck?”

“My brother sent me to test prices. If it’s right, there’s more later.”

The man asked how much, but Han Li was tight-lipped, refusing to give a weight.

Seeing he couldn’t get more information, the man began haggling. After agreeing on a price, he asked,

“Do you want cash, tickets, or something else?”

“Cotton, as much as you can get. Cloth is fine, just enough to make a jacket.”

“You won’t get much cotton with this meat.”

After some negotiation, Han Li left carrying two large hemp sacks filled with both new and reprocessed secondhand cotton.

[The exact weight isn’t detailed here, as cotton jackets have no strict standards. Everyone just knows when it’s enough.]

Leaving, Han Li didn’t care if he was followed. He quickly reached a preselected alley, ran to the end, vaulted a wall with a running start, then turned twice to reach a dilapidated courtyard.

He quickly stored the cotton in his spatial compartment, now left with only a few yards of cloth. Taking a damp towel, he wiped his face and neck, changing clothes.

Han Li felt confident this would hinder any tailing or distant surveillance.

What should have been a simple black market transaction turned into something out of a crime thriller, yet Han Li felt great, strolling boldly back to the hospital bike shed.

Passing the black market alley entrance, he even smiled faintly; unaware observers might think him mad.

In truth, the black market barely cared about his small trade. All his fuss was pointless, but Han Li didn’t know that.

He thought, unless materials were desperately needed, he’d never sell meat at this black market again. The risk and meager return made it hardly worthwhile.

Such meat would fetch better prices in a big city, like…

Thanks to Zhang Zeweitong for a 500-point reward.

Thanks to Afrashui for a 500-point reward.

Thanks to Nanjing Overlord for a 100-point reward.

Thanks to Probably Sick for a 100-point reward.

Thanks to Mfrashui for a 100-point reward.

Thanks to Book Friend 20171201212055977 for a 100-point reward.

(End of chapter)