AGN -Chapter 225 Parental Affection (Part 4)

The news that the mute little “fool” from the hunter’s house might neither be mute nor foolish spread through the entire village by morning like wildfire. The village chief’s whole family even came over in a group just to see for themselves.

The chief pointed at himself. “Jingjing, do you know who I am?”

“The village chief,” Qu Jing replied.

“And me? Who am I?” the chief’s wife asked eagerly.

“Grandma Ma Dalan,” Qu Jing said.

Ma Dalan was so excited she nearly cried. Ever since marrying the chief, people had called her “Guo family’s wife” or “the chief’s wife.” No one had called her by her real name in a long time.

“What about him? Gou Dan?”

Qu Jing: “…Guo Gou Dan.”

“A miracle!” Ma Dalan clapped her hands. “She can talk and she’s not stupid anymore! Old Qu, what miracle medicine did you give your granddaughter? It’s amazing! I’ll get one for that fool in the neighboring village from my maiden family—they’re rich, they’ve got three fat pigs! If he gets better, they’ll definitely give you a whole pig in thanks!”

The hunter grinned so wide his wrinkles spread open. “What miracle medicine? Our Jingjing was never stupid. She could talk all along. She was just scared after being in the mountains. Now she’s better.”

While the family kept crowding around, the chief began to feel something was off. He pulled the hunter aside to whisper.

“If she’s not dumb or mute, then why would someone abandon such a good-looking girl in the mountains?” the chief frowned. “Could she have some hidden illness?”

“Like your first wife—looked fine, then suddenly collapsed and coughed up blood to death.”

The hunter froze, nervous. “Then what should we do?”

The chief thought for a moment. “Are you willing to spend money?”

“Just tell me.”

“Last time we were called to the county for that meeting, they talked about policies—doctors, schools coming to rural areas. I heard Wang Dana from Dahe Village mention that doctors in the provincial capital are very skilled.”

“His brother-in-law had his leg crushed—lost tons of blood, nearly died—but the hospital saved him.”

“If you’re willing to spend, I’ll ask how to get there and how to find the hospital. Take Jingjing for a checkup.”

“Silver dollars work too—you can exchange them.”

The hunter hesitated. “I only have six silver dollars. Is that enough?”

“I don’t know. Hospitals used to be run by foreigners—you couldn’t even enter without several silver dollars.”

“Not anymore,” the chief said, stroking his chin. “But I don’t know the cost. That family probably spent everything—even sold their land.”

The hunter grew more anxious and whispered, “I also have two small gold bars. Is that enough?”

The chief: ?!

He stared in shock—how had his fellow poor villager secretly become rich?

“Where did you get those?”

“When I deserted the army, I knocked out the battalion commander and took them.”

The chief briefly regretted running away from conscription—he might’ve missed a path to wealth. But then he remembered how few conscripts ever made it back alive and felt better.

“That’s definitely enough! What illness costs two gold bars? Jingjing is lucky to have you—even a serious illness could be cured.” He lowered his voice. “But… spending that much on a girl you picked up—is it worth it?”

“Worth it,” the hunter said happily. “Last night, the moment she spoke, she told me she’d take care of me in old age.”

The chief shook his head helplessly.

Neither noticed that inside, Qu Jing—surrounded by people asking questions—slightly raised her head and glanced toward the door when the hunter said that.

The next few days passed peacefully.

Now that he knew Qu Jing wasn’t mute or foolish, the hunter felt more at ease leaving her at home and even told her to go play with other children.

But Qu Jing wasn’t really a child and had no interest in playing. She preferred staying home carving wood.

Village children, however, were very interested in her—because she always had food. Some clever ones brought wild vegetables to trade for sweet potatoes; bolder ones even stole from their own fields to exchange.

After watching this for two days, Qin Huai thought: if this were thirty years later, she’d be the protagonist of a “get-rich” story.

On the fifth day, just as Qin Huai could judge vegetable value at a glance, the chief returned with good news.

He had figured out the route to the provincial capital: donkey cart to the county, then ox cart to the city. The journey would take over ten days.

Food had to be brought along. But since the hunter had weapons, bandits weren’t a concern. Others even welcomed him along for protection, waiving travel fees.

They would leave the next morning.

Knowing the hunter couldn’t cook, the chief’s wife prepared flatbread and boiled eggs—charging only a small fee.

The hunter didn’t mind and even gave extra rabbit pelts in return. The chief happily promised to boil three more eggs for Qu Jing.

Thus, they set off on a dusty journey.

The hunter carried everything—silver dollars, paper money, copper coins, and gold bars. They had two large bundles of food, over twenty eggs, water skins, and pelts.

He considered bringing the tiger skin but decided it was too conspicuous.

The journey was slow and boring—animal carts stopping often. Qin Huai felt time blur, as if fast-forwarding.

Only upon entering the provincial city did things feel somewhat modern.

At the hospital, the hunter wandered nervously—he couldn’t read.

Security helped him exchange money, register, and see a doctor.

The result: nothing was wrong.

The doctor was moved that a rural hunter would bring his granddaughter all the way for a checkup. He refunded the registration fee and even gave free soybeans as nutrition.

“Feed her well. Don’t overthink,” he advised.

The hunter took it seriously—“good food” meant flour and sugar.

He bought flour, then went looking for sugar—only to find a pastry shop.

The shop was small but the pastries looked excellent. Qin Huai judged them as high quality.

He looked up at the sign:

Qin’s Pastry Shop.

…?

…???

Was this related to Qin Wan’s family shop?

The hunter stared at the pastries.

“Jingjing, want some?”

She shook her head—but he knew she did.

He called out, and a young shopkeeper appeared.

“Something nourishing for the child?” the hunter asked nervously.

The young man smiled. “This is a pastry shop, not a pharmacy. But… I do have some cheap glutinous rice cakes.”

“Cheap?” the hunter perked up.

The shopkeeper explained he made a batch that customers didn’t like and offered to sell them at cost, with extra pastries included.

Suspicious at first, the hunter checked behind him for bandits before cautiously asking the price.

After hearing it, he agreed.

The shopkeeper even gave extra sugar and recipes.

Qu Jing suddenly asked, “Didn’t you say the rice here isn’t suitable?”

The young man smiled. “I just don’t want to waste it.”

Without hesitation, Qu Jing said, “Grandpa, let’s help him.”

Hearing “Grandpa,” the hunter immediately agreed.

Twenty minutes later, they left with pastries, rice, sugar, and recipes.

“City people are strange—selling such good things so cheap,” the hunter said.

“We just got lucky,” Qu Jing replied.

“Right! Jingjing is lucky. Here, try this rice cake—it’s sweet, must be good for you!”

“Grandpa, you eat too.”

She fed him a piece.

He smiled. “Delicious. I’ll learn to make it when we go home.”

Qu Jing glanced back.

The shopkeeper smiled and silently mouthed: come again next time.

Qin Huai realized—

That young man was probably not human either.