An Ning’s smug look made An Guoming grind his teeth in frustration.

But he couldn’t beat her in a fight, and he didn’t dare try.

And it seemed he couldn’t win an argument against her either.

An Guoming could only feel his status in the family plummeting by the day.

After breakfast, everyone went to their respective chores.

Under An Ning’s supervision, An Guoming began his long day.

As for An Ning, she ambled along behind him, a small willow switch in hand, reciting passages from her language arts and politics textbooks.

Whenever An Guoming slowed down or tried to slack off, An Ning would expertly flick the willow switch.

CRACK! The switch would strike an object right next to An Guoming, leaving behind a mark as thick as a finger.

"You’re trying to murder your own brother!"

An Ning came up from behind, looking disapproving. She pointed to the mark on the wall and said, "Second Brother, how can you not trust me?"

"I can hit whatever I aim at, I guarantee it. So you can work with complete peace of mind."

An Guoming felt not the least bit reassured.

"Second Brother, that pig just contributed some freshly-made fertilizer for you."

An Guoming, wearing a pair of boots and holding a large, flat shovel, had just finished the strenuous task of cleaning a pigpen.

But An Ning’s words made him turn around to see a pig with an innocent look in its eyes staring right back at him.

A steaming, fresh pile of dung lay right below the pig’s rear.

At that moment, An Guoming had only one thought. ’If I ever drink and drive again, I’m no better than that pig.’

Resigned to his fate, An Guoming went to shovel the dung. Finally, it was clean.

When An Guoming came out, An Ning stood more than a meter away with a look of disdain and commented on the pigpen, "It’s quite clean."

"Right?"

An Guoming looked a bit smug, fishing for a compliment.

"Yes. It’s all because Eldest Brother usually handles it so well. Otherwise, you would have been drowning the moment you stepped inside."

An Ning’s words made An Guoming feel sick. ’Why is that so easy to picture?’

But An Ning was right. An Guoqing cleaned the manure every day, so there wasn’t actually that much work left for him.

After cleaning the pigpen, An Ning took An Guoming up the mountain.

Today, they needed to water the fruit trees.

Although they had the help of the irrigation channel, each tree still required manual attention.

However, thanks to An Ning’s design, there was a water pipe outlet every short distance.

And thanks to An Ning’s money, the mountain even had electricity.

Countless small water pumps were lined up, so when it was time to water, all one had to do was flip a switch and hold the hose.

An Guoming held a hose, watering a peach tree.

"An Ning, this is so much easier."

"That’s for sure."

The two of them started brainstorming about the fruit trees, discussing what to do when they bore fruit, how to sell them, and other related topics.

"An Ning, how many years will it take for these to bear fruit?"

"Some need a year or two, some can bear fruit this year. It varies."

An Ning pointed to a tree and said, "Take these peaches, for example. I bought several varieties, like honey peaches and yellow peaches. It’s the same with the plum trees—I got several kinds, all of different ages."

"We’ll see how they do this year and find out which varieties taste the best. We can plant more of those next year. There’s still plenty of land on the mountain."

An Guoming nodded repeatedly. ’My little sister really thinks of everything.’

An Guoming watered the trees for over two hours before An Ning let him go.

There were always people working on the mountain—fertilizing, watering, pruning branches, and guarding the trees.

A small cabin had been built on the mountain where people lived, including the two orchardists An Ning had hired.

Not only that, but An Ning had also bought many books on fruit farming. In her free time, she would read and study them with everyone.

An Ning and An Guoming came down from the mountain and returned home.

An Guoming took a hoe and went to the backyard vegetable garden by himself to loosen the soil in preparation for planting.

An Ning, however, went back up the mountain alone.

No one asked what she was doing. As she left, she just told Lin Cuihua not to save dinner for her, as she would be back late.

Lin Cuihua quickly packed a few large steamed buns she had just made for An Ning, urging her to be careful.

Carrying a sickle, with a willow basket on her back and a large bun in her hand, An Ning started up the mountain, eating as she walked.

She hadn’t gone far before the bun in her hand was gone.

She focused single-mindedly on the path, heading up the mountain.

An Ning was going up the mountain for a specific reason: the note given to her by the late Third Grandfather.

The note contained an address, or rather, a simple little map.

It looked like Third Grandfather had drawn it himself. It was very clear, with trees and rocks marked in unique positions.

The note showed a general location. Since An Ning often went up the mountain, she had a vague memory of the place and decided to go check it out.

The terrain grew steeper. An Ning swung the sickle in her hand continuously, hacking away the tangled branches in front of her.

She felt like she had been walking for over an hour. Standing halfway up the mountain and looking up, she saw two peaks soaring into the clouds.

Between the two peaks was a narrow passage. The map indicated that she had to go through this narrow path.

An Ning first checked the time. There were about four hours until dark.

’That should be enough time.’

An Ning continued to climb.

Further up, An Ning put away her sickle, put on a pair of gloves, and began climbing with both her hands and feet.

It turned out that the passage between the two peaks wasn’t at ground level, but higher up the mountainsides, at an elevation of several dozen, maybe even a hundred meters.

The higher she went, the more treacherous the terrain became.

Gradually, the surroundings turned to bare rock, with fewer and fewer signs of vegetation.

An Ning constantly searched for handholds and footholds, pulling herself up step by step.

"Looks like Third Grandfather had a lot of faith in my abilities."

An Ning glanced down. She wasn’t scared at all; in fact, she felt a little excited.

She liked thrilling things.

An Ning couldn’t help but think she was a bit of a contradiction.

She loved the slow pace of farming, but she also loved thrilling adventures like this.

Shaking off the thought, An Ning continued her climb.

In reality, the deceased Third Grandfather had never intended for An Ning to climb this mountain alone.

The old man had assumed she would find people to go with her.

Unfortunately for his assumption, what would seem a dangerous peak to others, she had scaled in less than half an hour.

An Ning grabbed two rocks, leaped up forcefully, and landed on the flat ground of the passage connecting the two peaks.

"WOAH—"

An Ning quickly pressed herself sideways against the rock face, her hand gripping a protruding stone for support.

The climb up had been easy, but the moment she reached the top, she was nearly blown off by the fierce wind tunneling through the passage.

An Ning lowered her head, hunched over, and waited sideways for the gust to pass.

The bone-chilling wind cut at her face like a knife, making it sting with pain.

Shielding her face with one hand, she ducked her head and pushed forward against the wind.

The map showed there should be a cave somewhere in the passage between the peaks.

An Ning walked from one end to the other but found nothing.

She walked back from the other end, but still saw no cave.

An Ning stopped walking and tried to recall the map.

The rocks, the trees, their specific shapes.

An Ning scanned her surroundings, her gaze finally locking onto a piece of broken wood.