Chapter Three: The Ambition of the Candied Hawthorn

This money could well be called Gou Ye’s lifeblood!

As the saying goes, to cut off a man’s livelihood is as grave as killing his parents.

That burly, black-faced man had just snatched away the fruits of Gou Ye’s entire night of toil. How could Gou Ye not be desperate to fight him?

“Stop right there!”

Gou Ye burst forth with the greatest speed of his life, chasing after the man with every ounce of strength in his body.

Yet, whether in his past life or this one, Gou Ye was nothing more than a feeble weakling. With such a frail constitution, how could he possibly compete with a man as sturdy as a wild boar?

All he heard was the black-faced man snort coldly, glancing back with a mocking “weakling,” before dashing off into the distance.

“Give me back my bride price!”

Gou Ye wailed, as if he had just suffered a tremendous injustice.

Do you know that feeling? That moment when you finally get paid after submitting your work, only for the money to vanish before your eyes?

Yes, that’s exactly how Gou Ye felt—he was ready to die.

As the black-faced man drew farther and farther away, Gou Ye finally gave up, collapsing helplessly onto the ground.

His posture, his expression, his demeanor—he looked just like one of those old folks in the future who would throw themselves to the ground in a shameless attempt to extort sympathy.

“Hey there, young man, don’t lie on the ground, it’s cold out—you’ll catch a chill!”

Just as Gou Ye was drowning in despair, a young gentleman approached, dressed in elegant robes, riding a white steed, and with a sword at his waist. He kindly offered his advice.

“What do you know! My money was just stolen by a black wild boar!”

“What! A wild boar? In broad daylight, a wild boar dares rob a citizen of the Ming Kingdom?”

“My friend, wait here a moment and watch me retrieve your money!”

The young gentleman’s eyes shone. For him, a mere wild boar was no challenge.

With a stern face, he urged his white steed forward.

A glimmer of hope flickered in Gou Ye’s nearly hopeless eyes.

But before a few seconds had passed, the young gentleman suddenly turned his horse around, grinning sheepishly as he asked, “Brother, which way did that wild boar go?”

Gou Ye: “…”

So you have no sense of direction at all!

And you want to help me get my money back?

Forget it. Gou Ye no longer placed any hope in this dim-witted fellow.

He’d just consider the money a donation to that wild boar. As long as he had his hands, he could churn out more drafts, and with drafts came payment!

“A Ye, are you alright?”

Yun Niang caught up to him.

Gou Ye had just run the fastest he ever had in his life, and Yun Niang hadn’t been able to keep up; by the time she caught her breath, he was already sprawled on the ground.

“Yun Niang, let’s go. I curse that black wild boar to go to the latrine without toilet paper! I curse him to have children born blind! I curse him to get hit by a carriage—no, by a horse!”

Even after all that cursing, Gou Ye was still not satisfied and wanted to say more, but he noticed the strange looks from the people around him.

“A Ye, get up, let’s go,” Yun Niang urged, embarrassed by the crowd gathering to watch Gou Ye lying on the ground, and quickly pulled him up.

“Hmph! Tonight, I’ll pull another all-nighter and make up for my losses!”

Gou Ye possessed the best qualities of an online novelist: never late, never behind on updates, always diligent. Surely, that’s what every editor wished for in an author.

The two of them walked back toward the market where Yun Niang’s mother had earlier set up her stall.

But the more Gou Ye thought about it, the angrier he became. Why should he work so hard, only to have his hard-earned payment snatched away in broad daylight?

It was unfair! Just like the unscrupulous people in the future who would scam authors out of their manuscripts and refuse to pay them!

Writing was a noble profession, Gou Ye believed he was a cut above the rest—so the more he thought about it, the more infuriated he became.

Yun Niang noticed his gloom and pulled him over to a nearby stall.

“Boss, two skewers of candied hawthorn, please.”

Yun Niang cheerfully handed over two copper coins.

The vendor smiled, took the coins, and began threading hawthorn onto sticks.

The candied fruit of this era was different from those in future times, simply skewered frozen hawthorn berries.

But even so, the sweet and sour taste was delightful.

A skewer cost only one copper coin—a true bargain.

This reminded Gou Ye of candied hawthorn in the future—though there were many varieties, a single skewer cost over ten yuan, which for someone as poor as he was, felt like robbery!

“Candied hawthorn, sweet and bright, red hawthorn round and tight, row on row and string on string, taste them once, you’ll smile with delight.

No words are needed, just nod your head, do you like them or not? Like them—truly like them, like them, yes, I like them a lot.

One for you, one for me, don’t give her one, she’ll get cross, take a bite and bounce around, no more for mother, don’t add to her loss.”

As he ate the candied hawthorn, Gou Ye hummed a little tune, momentarily forgetting all about the theft.

“A Ye, is this your first time eating candied hawthorn? Why are you smiling so happily?”

Hearing him hum an unfamiliar song, Yun Niang asked curiously.

“Yun Niang, do you like candied hawthorn?”

“Mm, it’s delicious!” Yun Niang loved candied hawthorn. At Gou Ye’s question, she nodded eagerly.

“As long as you like it, I can make something even tastier. Would you like to try it?”

“Hmph! Don’t try to fool me, A Ye. If there’s anyone who knows your cooking skills, it’s me. How could you possibly make anything tastier than candied hawthorn?”

Yun Niang puffed out her cheeks, full of doubt.

“What? You don’t believe me? Little girl, today I’ll show you what I’m capable of!”

Gou Ye could hardly tolerate being doubted by a little girl and immediately promised to amaze her.

With that, the two made a pact and returned to Yun Niang’s mother’s stall.

People came and went, but no one paid the slightest attention to the bolts of cloth and clothing Yun Niang’s mother was selling.

“Sigh, looks like nothing will sell again today,” her mother said with a heavy sigh. Some of her cloth had been piling up for nearly a month, yet still, no one was interested.

“Auntie, why isn’t anything selling?”

If any other merchant had asked that question, Gou Ye might have been slapped for his trouble.

Fortunately, Yun Niang’s mother was not that kind of person. She forced a smile and replied, “A Ye, everyone prefers clothes made in the textile workshops now. No one wants to buy our cloth anymore.”

“Textile workshops?”

Gou Ye was startled. Had technology in this world already advanced so far? If there were textile workshops, wasn’t the invention of the spinning machine just around the corner?

He scanned the clothing of the people coming and going, falling deep into thought.

He pondered for a long time, racking his brains for everything he could remember about textile arts from his past life.

Finally, just as Yun Niang’s mother was about to pack up for the day, Gou Ye leapt up, a look of revelation on his face, and exclaimed excitedly:

“I’ve got it! I’ve thought of a brilliant way to make clothes!”