Chapter 70: Telling Lies Makes Your Tail Grow

Zhao wore a clouded expression, yet her steps in searching for someone were swift. Jiang’s father followed behind, speaking haltingly, “A few pieces of clothing are missing from home, and he has no money, so he must have taken only a bundle. I’ve asked the people in Xitang Village, but no one has seen him. The boy must have left through the mountain.”

Zhao lifted her gaze to the mountain. Because of the earthquake, parts of it had collapsed, making it even more treacherous and difficult to traverse. With night quickly falling, searching would be all the more arduous.

“Mother, let’s go up the mountain and look,” Bai Yan said, walking beside Jiang Chengyan.

Jiang Chengyan hadn’t said a word from start to finish; he simply shielded Bai Yan, ensuring she wouldn’t stumble.

Though searching the mountain would be troublesome, it was the only course left.

Once Zhao and Jiang’s father split up to search in different directions, Bai Yan darted lightly up the mountain.

She had lived here for more than a hundred years and knew every inch of it. A large boulder blocked their path ahead. Just as Jiang Chengyan moved to lift Bai Yan and carry her over, he watched in astonishment as his petite wife picked up the massive rock and tossed it aside with ease.

Jiang Chengyan was speechless.

As darkness deepened, Bai Yan only grew more at ease among the mountain paths.

But the mountain was vast. After searching through the night, they still found no trace.

When they came down at dawn, Bai Yan had already fallen asleep on Jiang Chengyan’s back, while Zhao and Jiang’s father’s eyes were red with exhaustion.

“Stop looking. If anyone asks, just say he left to become an apprentice,” Jiang Chengyan said, and with Bai Yan on his back, headed home.

...

High up the mountain, in a hidden cave,

Jiang Cheng’an had spent the night curled up there, his stomach growling with hunger. He opened his eyes and hugged his bundle closer, just about to head out to find some wild fruit, when something at his feet startled him.

On the clean sand beside him lay, quite brazenly, a money pouch and several dried persimmons.

The pouch was of fine material, embroidered with a lop-eared rabbit. As for the persimmons… They looked awfully familiar…

Weren’t these… his sister-in-law’s…?

His hand trembled as he reached for the pouch, but as he touched it, he found not only silver bits inside, but also a sheet of paper.

The handwriting was scrawled and chaotic, but on closer inspection, it seemed to be a map. Some spots were marked for water, others for fruit.

...

Although the Jiang family told others that Jiang Cheng’an had gone to apprentice, gossips still whispered behind their backs. But Zhao was a woman of rare equanimity, and soon immersed herself fully in making tofu.

Her milk tofu had a singular taste, winning many admirers. Several small restaurants began placing regular orders, and business flourished like never before.

Meanwhile, after two days of anxious anticipation, Bai Yan’s little mushrooms were finally ready to harvest.

Early in the morning, Jiang Chengyan woke up quite early, but the spot beside him in bed was already empty.

There was quite a commotion in the yard. He rubbed his brow, threw on a robe, and went to look for his little rabbit.

In the small storeroom, Bai Yan bounced about with a basket on her arm, her hair loose and unbraided.

“Where’s your money pouch?” Jiang Chengyan leaned against the wall, his eyes fixed on her.

Bai Yan, who had been cheerfully hopping, immediately froze.

“I think I lost it… Somewhere on the mountain,” she replied, turning to him with a pitiful look.

“Is that so? You know, telling lies will make your tail grow longer,” he said, a half-smile on his lips.