Chapter Sixteen: The Little Ginseng Spirit

“What nonsense are you spouting, child! This is such an honorable task. Though there’s some pay—two or three taels of silver—we must never take it just for the money. We do this for the people living around Cangjiang...” Lin Ede declared solemnly.

Lin Sanlang thought to himself, “...As the village chief, whatever you say is right, I suppose... ennnnnn.” In the end, faced with Lin Ede’s grand statements, Lin Sanlang could only nod in reluctant agreement.

Realizing it was getting late, Lin Ede sent Lin Sanlang away, claiming that since the family’s grain stores were low, they couldn’t play host—if you want to eat, go home! Don’t even think about mooching a meal!

Lin Sanlang grumbled inwardly, “So stingy.”

When he got home, Lin Sanlang headed straight to the old house to check on his father, then discussed the matter of joining the work team repairing the dike with his mother.

“Mother, what do you think about this thing Second Uncle mentioned?” he asked her in a hushed tone.

After a moment’s thought, she nodded. “I think it’s a good idea. Your second uncle would never put you in harm’s way.”

“And make sure your wife gets your things ready in advance—bring everything you might need,” she continued, fussing over her son about to leave home.

“Alright, I know, Mother. Don’t worry, I’ll have my wife pack up for me,” he replied, unable to keep a trace of exasperation from his face.

Perhaps his expression of “I know, you’re so naggy, Mother” annoyed her, because she shooed him out of the house.

Left with no choice, Lin Sanlang went home to seek comfort—“Wife... enennnnnnn.”

In the dead of night, the couple in the west room were already fast asleep.

Little Fubao lay in her small bed, kicking her legs, her big round eyes wide open.

Suddenly, a soft voice sounded, “Huh...? Who are you?”

Fubao gazed in astonishment at the chubby little figure before her—a child with a single topknot, dressed in a red bellyband. The ginseng sprite babbled on, staring at Fubao with a mix of curiosity and disdain—what kind of patron had he found for himself? Just a little baby!

This ginseng sprite had gained sentience deep in the mountains and caused mischief there for many years, tormenting the other spirits until they were miserable. He’d always heard the mountain spirits say the world outside was different, ruled by a creature called “humans.” Ignoring Grandpa Ganoderma’s advice, he’d ventured out, only to be chased by a group of arrow-wielding men who clearly intended to catch him—he could smell the rich scent of blood and the lingering traces of his own kind.

Fleeing for his life, he ran into a group of five rabbit hunters and, having no other choice, dove into the jade pendant around the little chubby girl’s neck. There was a familiar scent about her...

“Hey, little fatty, from now on I’ll be looking after you. As long as you let me stay in your jade pendant, you’ll be my little brother—or sister. If you don’t object, I’ll take that as agreement. Anyway, since you saved my life today, I should give you a little something in return!” With that, the ginseng sprite plucked the two or three shortest hairs from the tuft on his otherwise bald head and placed them beside Fubao’s pillow.

Fubao was speechless—could you be any more stingy? And I never agreed to be your little brother! Get out of my pendant!

But soon, drowsiness overtook her and she fell fast asleep.

She was woken at dawn by her mother’s excited cry, “Husband, look!”

Of course, Meng Yun’s feelings were not of joy but of alarm. Coming to check on her daughter’s rosy, sleeping face, she noticed something strange by the pillow—a purplish root that looked like a plant. Curious, she picked it up to examine it and realized it wasn’t just any root, but ginseng.

Having grown up in a merchant family, Meng Yun had seen her share of ginseng, but this—by its quality, it must be at least a hundred years old, maybe even a thousand. She couldn’t help but exclaim, “These must be ginseng whiskers! If the whiskers are this thick, just imagine how big the main root is!”

Lin Sanlang, staring at the two ginseng whiskers in his hand, could only marvel.

Meng Yun picked up the disgruntled Fubao—Mother, you woke me up!—and gently rocked her. “How did this end up by Fubao’s pillow?” she wondered, and after her initial surprise, was struck by a sense of unease. Was there danger lurking near her daughter?

Fubao thought, “Some mischievous fellow left them for me!”

“I have no idea, this is truly strange,” Lin Sanlang admitted, scratching his head.

“Wife, I don’t think it’s a coincidence. Maybe something came to our house,” Lin Sanlang said, recalling how his wife had mentioned hunters coming to the mountains the day before. “Perhaps whatever the hunters were chasing was accidentally saved by Second Brother, Gou Dan, and the others, and somehow followed them home. As a gesture of gratitude, it left this behind.”

The more he spoke, the more convinced he became.

Fubao thought, “That’s exactly what happened.”

Meng Yun considered his words and nodded in agreement. “I think that’s very likely. But what should we do with it?” she asked, weighing the ginseng whiskers in her hand as she looked at Fubao.