Chapter One: Phoenix Mountain

　　Early summer, Baicheng.

　　Baicheng is in the north, a very ordinary county-level city, with two or three main streets, a population of 700,000, and no real economic advantages. The only thing it can boast about is Phoenix Mountain, ten li south of the city.

　　Phoenix Mountain is part of the Changbai mountain range, covering more than 300 square kilometers, with its main peak nearly a thousand meters above sea level. Not very high, but it hides wonders within its dangers, and serenity within its beauty.

　　When it was first developed, who knows if the designer had a hole in their head or a hole in their head, but the path planning was truly touching. Hikers often couldn’t find the trail, and after all sorts of confusion, they’d discover an iron ring embedded in a crack in the rocks—you’d have to crouch and squeeze through bit by bit. Or, you’d jump from this rock to that one, only to find, hey, damn, there’s actually a path below!

　　It’s precisely this magical fun that has earned Phoenix Mountain a huge fan base, making it a popular tourist spot in the province.

　　“Up ahead is the Old Ox’s Back, let’s rest here for a bit and regain our strength.”

　　“Come on, Captain Ford, is the Old Ox’s Back really that dangerous? Don’t scare us!”

　　“It’s no use me saying more, you’ll know once you get up there.”

　　With a few exchanges like this, a group of people—men and women, all wearing matching hats—came up the stone steps from the foot of the mountain. Leading them was a guy in his thirties, with a sturdy build and a stubbly face. If he were a bit more handsome, he could really be called “uncle.”

　　Their resting spot was a small flat area near the summit. There was still a long stretch of steps ahead, and then came the Old Ox’s Back.

　　As is customary in scenic areas, where there’s a flat area, there’s a rest stop; where there’s a rest stop, there are vendors. Vendors come in two types: one runs a proper shop, with water and electricity, paying monthly fees to the management office. The other is a small stall, usually run by local villagers, selling a mishmash of goods.

　　It was the same here. On the left were two long benches; on the right, a stall with a small table and chairs.

　　There were more than a dozen people in the group, chattering noisily. There weren’t enough seats, so some stood, some squatted, and some had brought picnic blankets and simply sat on the ground. Among them were two girls, one tall and one short, who didn’t like squeezing in with the others, so they trotted over to the right.

　　The stall here was very simple. Instant noodles, sausages, pickled vegetables, bottled water, and other quick snacks were neatly arranged on a square table. On the ground were two thermos flasks, and not far away was a small stove with a pot on top, boiling corn inside.

　　The stall owner was a young man, sitting on a folding stool, fiddling with tea eggs in another pot.

　　The two girls glanced around. Since they wanted to sit at someone else’s place, they felt obliged to buy something, so they asked, “How much for a tea egg?”

　　“One and a half.”

　　“……”

　　They exchanged a look, a bit surprised at this normal price. After all, in the city, many restaurants had gone crazy and were selling them for two yuan each.

　　“Then we’ll have two eggs and two bottles of water.”

　　“Alright.”

　　The stall owner responded, quickly packed everything into a plastic bag, and handed it over, saying, “That’ll be eight yuan in total.”

　　“Here’s your money.”

　　After paying, the girls sat down on the little stools with a clear conscience. They hadn’t been that hungry, but since they’d bought something, they might as well eat while it was hot.

　　“Wow, why does it smell so good!”

　　With the shell on, there was no scent, but when the tall girl deftly peeled it off, revealing the soy-braised egg inside, a very special aroma suddenly wafted out.

　　“Hey, boss, you didn’t add anything weird in here, did you?” The short girl sniffed as well.

　　“Just some bay leaves, chrysanthemum, and licorice. Don’t worry, eat up,” the stall owner replied.

　　“Huh?”

　　The two looked at each other. They knew these were probably Chinese medicinal herbs, but didn’t know you could use them to cook eggs. But whatever, as long as it’s not poisonous.

　　Each took one and took a small bite. It was still an egg, but the salty, savory flavor was delicious, with a faint sweet coolness lingering on their lips and teeth.

　　Northerners eat salty, southerners eat sweet—both can go overboard, but this was just right. As they swallowed, they blinked at each other in unison, as if to say: New skill get!

　　What can you do, foodies and DIY maniacs are just like that. Whenever they discover some fresh and unique food, they have to try it right away. The two girls felt the trip was already worth it, whispering excitedly to each other, occasionally glancing at the stall owner.

　　“I want to try making this when I get home tonight.”

　　“Then we’ll need to buy some black tea. Hey, is Dianhong or Qihong better?”

　　“Let’s get both. I just don’t know if licorice is sold anywhere.”

　　“I’m not sure about licorice, but chrysanthemum is definitely available.”

　　“Get lost, you dirty old woman… Hey, how did he even think of this? That boss doesn’t look that old, but he’s got skills.”

　　“Hehe, and you know what, if you look closely, he’s actually pretty handsome.”

　　At this point, they couldn’t help but turn around, their gazes openly sweeping up and down a certain someone.