The little one's purse connects the two worlds, turning a desolate village into a paradise.

Once all twenty-one villagers had arrived, the village chief picked up the bowl of braised egg water, stood on the small earthen slope, and coughed: "Everyone, hang in there. Today, this old man is lucky; I found some salty food and ground some salt water. Everyone, take a sip, get a taste of salt, and replenish your strength."

After the words were spoken, there was a moment of silence in the crowd. Then, a light appeared in some people's eyes, but they only weakly raised their heads.

The village chief then pointed to the sugar water containing hawthorn berries in a small bowl next to him, "There's some sweet water here. After you finish drinking the salt water, take a sip to relieve the astringency and get some nourishment."

If this little bit of stuff isn't soaked in water, it wouldn't even be enough to fill a tooth gap among the people. It's better to dissolve it in water so that everyone can get a taste and at least feel a little better.

The village chief, holding a bowl, fed water to everyone, starting with the youngest, Xiao Shuanzi.

The rough porcelain bowl brushed against one dry, cracked mouth after another. Each person took only a small sip before quickly moving their mouth away, afraid that if they drank too much, there wouldn't be any left for the next person.

The person who drank the salt water felt their Adam's apple bob, the cloudiness in their eyes lessened, and a little color slowly returned to their lips. The salty taste slid down their throat, and the weakness in their body actually subsided a bit.

The bowl of salt water was half full after going around in circles. The village chief then brought out the sugar water and sipped it for everyone. Little Bean smacked his lips, the sweet taste spreading in his mouth, and his happy eyes narrowed.

Everyone's faces regained some vitality, no longer looking as lifeless as before.

Only then did the village chief call out to Zhao the hunter, who was standing at the very end, "Zhao Hu."

Zhao Hu was squatting behind, wondering if he should go into the mountains again later, when he heard the shout and slowly walked up to the village chief.

The village chief stuffed the small piece of braised egg yolk and the last hawthorn fruit on the stick into his hand, and said in a deep voice, "This is all you have. Take it and fill your stomach. You are the only able-bodied man in the village. Eat this and see if you can go up the mountain again to look for some wild vegetables or mushrooms. Every little bit helps. Everyone is counting on you."

Zhao Hu clutched the meager food, his eyes instantly reddening. His cheekbones were prominent from his thinness. He nodded forcefully, his voice hoarse, and replied, "Uncle, don't worry, I'll go up the mountain soon. Once I regain my strength, I'll definitely find what I'm looking for!"

The village chief patted his arm and said nothing more.

Ya Ya and Grandma Liu stood at the back of the crowd.

She touched the small purse on her chest. The village chief was so clever; a tiny egg could be mixed with such a large bowl of water that everyone could drink.

She looked at the villagers' eyes, now filled with light, then at Little Bean, whose knee was bleeding but who was grinning from ear to ear after drinking the sweet water, and at her grandmother's still pale face beside her. Her thoughts raced through her mind.

Uncle Zhao has been to the mountains many times. The wild vegetables and mushrooms near the mountains have long been dug up clean. What's left are some stinky leaves that you can't touch. The leaves are red and purple and smell pungent. Some people are so hungry that they pick them and chew a few bites raw. Immediately, their mouths and tongues go numb and bitter, their stomachs churn and they vomit and have diarrhea. Nobody dares to touch them anymore.

Going deeper into the mountains is dangerous. Last time, Uncle Zhao collapsed from exhaustion just before reaching the deepest part of the mountains. The village chief had to call many people to search for him before they were able to carry him back.

The village only had this much water and wild vegetables; it wouldn't last more than two days. She had to try again.

She stood obediently next to Granny Liu, her little hand gently supporting Granny Liu's wrinkled arm, not daring to reveal the secret at all.

Grandma Liu patted the back of her hand with her withered hand, "Ya Ya, be good, don't think about anything else. The village chief and Zhao Hu know what's going on. Just wait at home."

Ya Ya nodded.

As the sun gradually slanted westward and dusk fell, every household closed their wooden doors, leaving only a few faint coughs drifting in the wind.

In Grandma Liu's mud-brick house, there was a pot of porridge made from wild vegetables. She took it out and shared a small bowl with Ya Ya. She then put two warmed meatballs in Ya Ya's bowl to fill her stomach.

Grandma Liu was already in poor health. After drinking the porridge, she leaned against the headboard, her head nodding off, and soon she closed her eyes.

Ya Ya sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), looking at her mother-in-law's furrowed brows and pale face. After a while, she leaned close to her mother-in-law's ear and gently called out twice. Seeing that her mother-in-law was fast asleep, Ya Ya tiptoed to the corner of the kang, clutched her purse to her chest, and whispered, "Mother, Ya Ya is hungry, Grandma is hungry, everyone is hungry. Ya Ya wants to go back to that strange place where there is food and bring back more things..."

As soon as she finished speaking, the purse in her palm actually became hot again. The warm heat spread from her palm to her arm, and Ya Ya's eyes lit up and her heart pounded.

It turns out you don't need to go to the mountain god temple; as long as you think of your mother and want to find food, your purse will work its magic!

She quickly stuffed the purse back into her clothes, bit her lip to suppress her joy, and gently closed her eyes.

After the familiar dizziness subsided, a faint aroma of rice and noodles wafted into her nose, like freshly steamed white buns. She slowly opened her eyes, and this time it wasn't the place she had arrived at during the day. The sky was just beginning to lighten, and red four-legged sheds were set up along the streets and alleys.

She looked up at the sky. The sun was just rising on the horizon. In her village, it was dusk at 5 PM, but here it was probably late 3 AM or early 5 AM. It turned out that the place the purse had brought her to had the time reversed!

A gust of wind blew by, and Ya Ya shrank her neck. The wind felt cool on her face, making the tip of her nose red. There was still a layer of white frost on the ground, which felt rustling underfoot and left some on her coarse cloth shoes.

She timidly moved to the side, hiding behind a stone block with bamboo baskets, and stared with her round eyes.

The people on this road were all wrapped in thick coats, their collars tucked in tightly, busy with their hands. Some were bending over to arrange vegetables in their baskets, while others had piles of bright yellow fruit like small mountains. She didn't know their names, but they looked sweet.

The steamers not far away were stacked high, and the white steam carrying the aroma of noodles floated upwards, swaying gently and sneaking into Ya Ya's little nose.

The old man guarding the steamer held a large pair of tongs. The moment he lifted the lid, white steam billowed out, making him pull his hand back from the heat. Inside, the large, fluffy white steamed buns were squeezed together. Ya Ya's throat bobbed as she watched, and her little hands gripped the hem of her clothes, making damp creases.

At the stall next to us, an old man was setting up an iron pot. The oil in the pot was sizzling. The dough balls thrown in turned golden brown, and the fragrant aroma wafted over. Ya Ya couldn't help but crane her neck and stand on tiptoe to watch.

The vendors were all busy. This morning market needs to be well prepared. Soon, people will start arriving one after another.