Awakened, Manager Li felt a throbbing at his temples and roared irritably towards the door, "What's all the shouting for so early in the morning? Get lost!"
The shop assistant didn't leave. Cupping his hands like a megaphone, he raised his voice even louder.
"Manager, Miss Song has brought a leopard to sell. It's downstairs waiting for you."
Manager Li flipped over, jumped up, and scrambled out of bed as if his backside were on fire. "What? A leopard?"
The door was yanked open from the inside. Facing the assistant's excited eyes, Manager Li's chest gave a jolt. He pushed the man aside and clattered rapidly down the stairs.
Seeing the leopard placed at the tavern entrance, Manager Li's face broke into a wide grin. He hurriedly asked Song Jinzhao to carry it to the backyard.
It was still quite early. The kitchen staff hadn't started work yet, and the backyard was deserted, not a soul in sight.
Manager Li squatted down, examining the reddish bloodstains near the wound—it was fresh.
Noticing his action, Song Jinzhao said, "Killed around midnight. It's been dead less than three hours."
Manager Li nodded in satisfaction and told the assistant to fetch the steelyard.
When the steelyard arrived, the assistant, filled with excitement, imagined lifting the leopard with one hand like Song Jinzhao.
First try: it didn't budge an inch.
Second try, mustering all his strength: veins bulged on his forehead.
Taking a deep breath, third try, a dragging effort: he fell flat on his back, gasping for air.
Manager Li awkwardly averted his eyes, his lips twitching uncontrollably, feeling thoroughly embarrassed.
No skill, just brute force, and he couldn't even lift a leopard.
Song Jinzhao stepped forward, lifted the leopard with one hand, placed it into the bamboo basket effortlessly, without so much as disturbing a single strand of her hair.
The steelyard pole bent, threatening to snap.
"One hundred and fifty-seven catties."
Manager Li picked up his abacus, his fingers flying swiftly over the beads.
"Not many people eat leopard meat. I'll give you thirty coppers per catty, that comes to four taels and seven hundred and ten coppers. Adding the pelt and the head, I'm willing to pay thirty taels of silver."
The leopard's pelt was its most valuable part.
Song Jinzhao blinked and held up two fingers. "Add another five taels. This pelt is so intact, someone will surely pay a high price for it."
Seeing her determined look, Manager Li glanced back at the massive leopard body on the ground, gritted his teeth, and said, "Another three taels. Thirty-three taels total. I didn't even deduct the weight of the pelt when weighing it."
Song Jinzhao pursed her lips. That was at least three extra taels.
"Deal. Thirty-three taels it is."
Manager Li's brows smoothed, a smile spreading across his face as he briskly turned to fetch the money.
Song Jinzhao put the silver into her money pouch and secured it. "The mushrooms I gathered these past two days are drying at home. I'll bring them all over in a few days."
Having just closed a deal, Manager Li was pleasantly surprised. "Roughly how many catties?"
Song Jinzhao looked up, thinking. "Only about a hundred catties for now, but there should be more in a couple of days."
Manager Li beamed, feeling his gamble had paid off. He needed to inform the owner promptly.
The assistant watched Song Jinzhao's retreating figure, her strides long and confident, with eyes full of envy. Thirty-three taels in a day—he couldn't earn that much even working a whole year at the tavern.
Manager Li turned and instructed, "Go to the master butcher's house and fetch him. We need to skin this leopard quickly."
The assistant pouted and mumbled, "That girl is so strong. Her father must be even more formidable."
Manager Li's steps faltered slightly. Recalling Song Jinzhao's clothing and appearance the few times he'd seen her, it was clear her family was poor.
It was one thing for her to bring pheasants and hares before, but such a heavy, bloody leopard today... her father really should have come along.
A bit strange.
Thinking of how she had effortlessly lifted over a hundred catties with one hand, Manager Li muttered to himself, "Could it be she hunts all these prey herself?"
The assistant, about to leave on his errand, looked skeptical. "How could that be? She's just a girl."
Manager Li kicked out at him. "You have the nerve to say that. You can't even compare to a girl."
Leaving the tavern, Song Jinzhao looked at the sparse figures on the main street. People were already starting to trickle in for the market.
Shops should be opening around this time.
She turned and headed towards the busiest central street of Xining City. Some shops along the street were open, others not yet.
Fortunately, when she found the cloth shop, she just happened to see the assistant taking down the door panels and carrying them inside.
Having learned from Old Lady Song last midnight that Song Jinzhao had killed a leopard, and then hearing from his eldest daughter-in-law at breakfast that Song Jinzhao had gone to Xining City early that morning, Old Man Song had no heart for chopping firewood by the river. He stayed near the back of the village, pacing back and forth, burning with questions about the details.
He didn't know how long he waited before spotting a familiar figure in the distance, carrying large and small bundles, appearing at the bend in the road. Old Man Song immediately rose from the tree stump.
He took a few steps forward to confirm if it was Song Jinzhao. As the distance closed, a touch of delight brightened his wrinkled eyes.
He hurried forward with light steps and, seeing her laden with packages, reached out to help. "Is it heavy? Let me take some."
Song Jinzhao hadn't expected Old Man Song to wait for her here specifically.
The cloth in her hands was light, but looking at his kindly face, she found it hard to refuse.
A thought arose in her heart that refusing would hurt his feelings.
Old Man Song took the bundle his eldest granddaughter handed him and asked as they walked, "Did the sale go smoothly? Did anyone give you trouble?"
Her skill was one thing, but her age was another. He feared buyers might see her youth and deliberately lowball or bully her.
"I sold it to Manager Li at Shi You Ji. He offered a fair price. He's been buying the pheasants and hares I've hunted before too."
Old Man Song felt relieved. Shi You Ji was one of Xining City's top taverns, with a consistently good reputation. They likely wouldn't bully a young girl.
He almost instinctively asked how much she got for it, but hesitated at the last moment.
Turning to think that Song Jinzhao was only fourteen, and might overlook things due to her age, he decided to ask anyway.
"How much silver did you get? Is the family still short on money?"
"With the pelt and the head, thirty-three taels total."
Song Jinzhao had no intention of hiding it. The original host's family had little money, the children were young, especially Anhao who was not yet a month old. It was normal for Old Man Song to worry.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have Old Lady Song visiting every other day.
He was worried about her, and what she needed to do was set his mind at ease.
Old Man Song let out a long breath. The heavy stone pressing on his mind finally lifted.
With these thirty-odd taels of silver, plus the family's farmland, the four children wouldn't have to worry about food and drink for at least three years.
He thought for a moment and added a couple of words of advice.
"Keep the money safe. Don't skimp on what needs spending, but absolutely save on what shouldn't be spent."
After seeing her home, Old Man Song stood by the bamboo-built goat pen for a long while before leaving.
The problem of his youngest grandson's nourishment was solved. When the kid goat grew up next year, it could also be sold for money. The future of the third branch of the family finally held promise.
Song Qiming and Song Shixue stared wide-eyed at the pile of new cloth on the table. The family had never bought so much fabric before, and in such pretty colors—they had never worn anything like it.
This time, Song Jinzhao had deliberately chosen brighter, more vivid colors.
Everyone in the family wore clothes in dull, dirt-hiding dark browns and earthy grays. You couldn't even find a trace of white.
On one hand, dark colors didn't show dirt easily and saved her from frequent washing; on the other hand, because unattractive fabrics were cheaper, the original owner's mother, wanting to save money, couldn't bear to spend on prettier cloth.
