Happy Little Farmer
Chapter 729

Chapter 729: Chapter 729

Although the news came quickly, the results of collecting medicinal herbs were not ideal.

Yang Fan had followed Yun Miaoyi through three villages, yet they hadn’t even managed to gather half a cartload of herbs.

Forget about stockpiling inventory; they were still far from meeting next month’s quota.

In truth, these households did have plenty of medicinal herbs, but their asking prices were inflated, and their attitudes were particularly unyielding.

Yang Fan carefully did the math; if he bought at their prices, he wouldn’t incur a loss, but the profit margin would be negligible—essentially working for nothing. So what would be the point of buying?

Yang Fan left his phone number with them, but judging from their somewhat impatient demeanor, the chances of them changing their minds later seemed slim. When the market had a shortage of herbs, this was how things were: sellers started getting picky.

It was just like a few years ago when beef prices were high—cattle merchants from out of town wouldn’t even get the time of day from the locals.

They weren’t worried about not being able to sell their goods at all.

They would rather haggle with the familiar buyers they trusted than waste time with outsiders.

"Fanzi, I’ll reach out to more contacts in the next few days. Although not many people here grow medicinal herbs, it’s not just one or two households either. If your schedule permits, I believe we could go directly to the villages and approach individual growers," Yun Miaoyi suggested. "Those farming dozens or even hundreds of acres likely already have established buyers and more access to market information."

Yang Fan was already pondering this idea.

Heading into the countryside would take more time, but it might provide a breakthrough.

"Here’s the plan: let’s split up. I’ll visit the villages and try my luck going door-to-door. Meanwhile, Boss Yun, could you help me find out if there are any larger-scale growers around? It would be a shame to trek all this way only to haul back less than half a cart," Yang Fan said.

Yun Miaoyi nodded with a smile. "Why are you being so formal? You’ve already stepped through the door—what’s the need to stay stiff-tongued?"

"I’m not being formal. Do I strike you as the formal type?" Yang Fan replied with a grin.

Fan Sisi, standing nearby, puffed out her little lips in a quiet pout.

Her feet were starting to hurt again.

When Yang Fan and the others returned, Mr. Fan was already there.

The older man was in high spirits, sitting in the courtyard drinking with Yun Miaoyi’s father and several elders from the Yun Family.

"Old man, you’re in quite a good mood, huh?" Yang Fan teased as he approached with a laugh.

"I’m not on my deathbed yet. Why shouldn’t I enjoy myself? Should I sulk all day instead?" Mr. Fan replied. "Even if I were close to dying, I’d drag myself up for a few drinks first. Life’s too short to deny oneself one’s harmless indulgences!"

"It’s not like it’s a vice that harms others—why suppress it? Relax and enjoy. That’s the Righteous Path. You young ones wouldn’t understand."

On the contrary, Yang Fan understood all too well.

Looking at Mr. Fan now felt like staring into a mirror.

Perhaps those who joined the Tianji Sect had certain exaggerated tendencies in common.

"Old man, pause for a moment. Let’s discuss something, and then you can continue," Yang Fan said.

"No problem. Speak." Mr. Fan waved dismissively. "They already found out last night. Why keep up the pretense?"

Indeed, the group had learned about this the night before.

Yang Fan asked, "When do you plan to head up the mountain? If it’s not urgent, I’d like to take care of some errands first."

"Tomorrow morning, during a time when the Yang energy is strongest. It’s no use acting at night. Nighttime would put us at a disadvantage. That ghostly thing thrives on extreme Yin energy; adding favorable timing and location would be like handing it home-field advantage," Mr. Fan said, setting down his wine cup. "Got something important to do?"

"I came out here to collect medicinal herbs, so I need to handle that. But if we’re acting tomorrow, then so be it. There’s no time to go far now, anyway," Yang Fan replied.

It was nearly evening already.

"Collecting medicinal herbs?" one of the Yun elders suddenly inquired. "Young Master Yang, you’re also trading in herbs? How large is your demand? My niece happens to be in this business. She’s well-connected in Sanping, An Tai, and your Xin’an region. If your needs are substantial, I could give her a heads-up."

"Uncle Yun, competitors are like enemies. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to buy from your niece," Yang Fan replied with a smile.

The elder waved his hand dismissively. "What I mean is, I could ask her to cut you a deal. Both sides can profit. After all, you’ve helped resolve such a big problem for the Yun Family. Let me leverage some goodwill and talk things over with her."

"That... doesn’t seem entirely appropriate," Yang Fan said with a shake of his head. "Uncle Yun, how about this? Let me try gathering on my own first. If I fall short by a significant amount, I’ll come to you for help then?"

"Young Master Yang, why are you being so polite with me? Forget it—I won’t argue. I’ll just make the call directly," the old man said, swiftly pulling out his phone and dialing without giving Yang Fan a chance to protest.

His abrupt change in demeanor left Yang Fan momentarily at a loss for words. Despite clearly helping Yang Fan, he suddenly seemed to flip, catching Yang Fan off guard and making him smile wryly.

Yun Miaoyi discreetly tugged at Yang Fan’s sleeve and whispered, "That’s my Master Thirteen. His temper is famously stubborn. He’s the unquestionable authority in the family. Even my uncle—his son—had his legs broken multiple times for talking back."

"You’re not exaggerating, are you?" Yang Fan asked.

"Not at all. It’s true," Yun Miaoyi whispered. "My uncle used to be a bit wayward. But after having his legs broken a few times, he’s turned completely filial—like a whole new person in how he treats others."

Yang Fan was left dumbfounded. He’d heard plenty of people threaten to break someone’s legs, like Mr. Fan.

But this was the first time he’d encountered a real-life example.

The old man clearly had a fiery temper. What others only talked about, he turned into action.

Master Thirteen, hands clasped behind his back, finished his call and turned to Yang Fan. "Young Master Yang, it’s settled. My niece will come by tomorrow. You two can discuss it yourselves. I have a simple way of thinking: you both make a little less profit, and you’ll become her supplier. She’s agreed to it."

Yang Fan couldn’t refuse such insistence, so he repeatedly thanked him and agreed to move forward.

He then refrained from disturbing the elders’ drinking session and stepped outside with Fan Sisi and Yun Miaoyi.

Staying indoors was dull, so they decided to take a casual stroll outside.

The night was silent.

A crescent moon hung lonely in the sky, and occasionally a few birds rustled through the branches, their crisp cries breaking the stillness.

Even though Mr. Fan had said there would be no action tonight, he suddenly appeared in Yang Fan’s room.

Yang Fan, groggy in his sleep, suddenly felt as if someone were by his bedside. The instinct jolted him awake, his hair standing on end. Without hesitation, he grabbed the ruler by his pillow and swung it.

The ruler was caught firmly in a hand.

Yang Fan’s heart tightened. Quickly shifting to the side, he turned on the light while grabbing his wooden mace and swung again.

"Mr. Fan?!"