In the Qingtang Forest on the North-facing Slope, Zhao Jun paced slowly, occasionally striking the nearby trees with the stick in his hand.
This side of the mountain was north-facing, so the snow melted later, and the plants sprouted and revived later as well. To even dig for wild vegetables here, one had to kick away the dead branches and rotten leaves on the ground.
But Zhao Jun was by himself. If he searched like this, he probably wouldn't find even a hint of Ginseng by this time tomorrow.
Going into the mountains alone was called a "single stick," but it was a rare occurrence because sweeping the area was too exhausting.
According to Elder Zhao's record on that red pine, sixty-one years ago, when those seven men had hunted for Ginseng here, they were led by a Leader. The seven of them lined up their sticks, forming a single row.
