Chapter 9: Black Gold

The market lasts from eight in the morning until just before lunch.

Today, Zoe’s luck was quite good; she had already hit her usual half-day sales target shortly after ten o'clock. As a gesture of thanks, she decided to treat Ronan to lunch once the market closed, in appreciation for all his running around to help her.

"No need for that. Your father has helped me a great deal, and I haven't even figured out how to thank him yet." Ronan felt genuinely embarrassed to keep taking advantage of their hospitality, especially since he was already getting free meals and the use of their tractor.

Zoe tucked a lock of golden hair behind her ear and, looking straight into Ronan’s eyes, said, "That is between you and my father. This is between you and me."

Zoe possessed a strong artistic aura, with eyes as deep as a starry sea. Even without speaking, she radiated an irresistible presence, and when she did speak, it was even harder to refuse her.

"All right, then..." Ronan lowered his head and agreed.

From then on, Zoe would often fix a gaze upon him that Ronan couldn't quite decipher. Feeling self-conscious, he came up with an excuse: "I'm going to go buy some fruit."

Zoe rested her chin on her right hand and couldn't help but laugh at his retreating back. "Still not 'Provençal' enough, I see. There are no shy men in Provence."

...

Ronan used the fruit errand as a cover to pursue another mission: finding his next path to making money. As he looked at the dazzling array of goods, he calculated in his mind:

Vegetables and fruits were out—he had no more land. Flowers were in the same category and not an option. Alcohol and honey were also ruled out, as both required startup capital. He needed something that didn't require much investment.

After wandering for a while, Ronan noticed that although it was a daily market, there were many seasonal items, such as fishing gear. Despite being surrounded by the sea on three sides, France’s fishing industry wasn't particularly well-developed. The peak season for seafood supply was winter, due to limited cold-chain logistics. Ronan kept this as a backup, though he would need to solve the cold-chain issue to profit from it.

He also saw hunting supplies like ammunition pouches at the market. Guns were not prohibited in France, and hunting was permitted, provided one had a hunting license. However, the hunting season was coming to a close... and considering the time required to get certified, he couldn't rely on this for income this year.

What else could he do?

As Ronan wandered the market, feeling at a loss, a voice echoed in his ears:

[Happiness increased by 2 points for attending the lively market.]

His mood shifted from overcast to sunny.

"Well, it wasn't a total loss."

Because his diet had been monotonous, the increase in happiness had slowed down for the past few days. This discovery provided Ronan with a third way to grind experience, aside from eating and sleeping. He would have to attend the markets frequently from now on, and not just the one in Lourmarin.

He had been out for quite a while, so Ronan temporarily gave up his search. He bought some fresh oranges and cherry tomatoes and headed back to find Zoe. He hadn't walked more than a few steps when a rich, pungent scent hit his nostrils.

"What is this?" He sniffed hard.

It was a very familiar smell, but he couldn't quite place it. Ronan followed the complex aroma to a stall. It was only a little past ten, yet the stall was completely empty, save for a few specks of soil.

"What could possibly sell out this fast?" Ronan blurted out, unable to contain his thoughts.

The vendor was an old man. Seeing Ronan’s yellow skin, he mistook him for a tourist and said ingratiatingly, "France has the best truffles in the world! But unfortunately, the batch from last week is all sold out. You can leave your contact information, and I’ll have some sent to you when I have more."

Ronan’s eyes lit up.

Truffles!

Truffles were perhaps the most "famous" fungi in the world, surrounded by more myths and legends than any other. Top chefs treated them like treasures. Those who loved truffles were often deeply obsessed—Ronan included. But then again, what Frenchman could resist the allure of a truffle? Look, it had sold out before eleven!

However, truffles were different from other crops; they were notoriously challenging to cultivate and could only be artificially encouraged at best, making them incredibly expensive. In the future, they could sell for several hundred euros per kilogram, but what about now?

"How much?" Ronan didn't bother to correct the man's assumption about his identity.

The vendor spread his hands generously. "To show the friendliness of the French, I can offer you a price of 2,000 francs per kilogram. I sell to everyone else for 2,100."

2,000 per kilogram?

That was more than a month’s worth of living expenses for him! It seemed that in any era, the wealthy were willing to spend lavishly on food.

Ronan pointed to the soil remnants on the table and asked, "Dug in the Luberon?"

The most famous truffle-producing region in France was Périgord, where black truffles were sold to the entire world. Did the Luberon have them too?

The vendor nodded earnestly. "Harvested right around here."

To close the deal, he continued to educate Ronan: "The harvest season for truffles starts in November and ends by late February, or early March at the latest. If you want to taste authentic French specialties, you should act fast."

Ronan’s face brightened, his smile impossible to hide. Seeing Ronan’s reaction, the vendor looked as if he could already see the money being handed over, but to his surprise, Ronan just waved his hand. "Okay, goodbye."

...

When the market ended, Zoe took Ronan to a very secluded restaurant in the village.

"On market days, the other restaurants are full of tourists and outsiders." Zoe preferred a quiet environment.

Inheriting her parents’ generous and warm nature, she ordered a feast for two: stewed lamb trotters and tripe, crisps with cherry jam, Mediterranean fish soup, Banon cheese, and a glass of crème de cassis for each of them.

They ate in silence for a while. Once Zoe noticeably slowed her pace, Ronan asked, "Can truffles be found around here?"

Zoe wasn't surprised by his question. She put down her knife and fork and wiped her mouth elegantly. "Certainly not near the village, but the Luberon mountains have hundreds of thousands of oak and hazelnut trees, and there could be truffles at the roots of any one of them. Every harvest season, many people go into the mountains to try their luck. Vieri and I used to go digging with our father when we were kids."

She guessed that Ronan must have seen a truffle vendor at the market. It wasn't surprising that someone who claimed he wanted to experience all the beauty of Provence would be interested in this.

"Did you find any?" Ronan asked expectantly.

High profit, high demand, low entry cost... truffle hunting was the most ideal way to make money that Ronan had discovered so far.

Zoe took a sip of her crème de cassis and raised an eyebrow. "Our family’s luck has never been very good."

"You never found a single one?" Ronan felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over him. Was it really that difficult? In his eyes, the Louis family’s knowledge of nature could be described as "expert" level.

Zoe said in a comforting tone, "Compared to digging for truffles, driving a tractor to spread fertilizer is as simple as eating a meal. You could find someone to take you to try your luck, but don't get your hopes up. They’ll only take you to experience it symbolically; they won't actually let you find anything. No truffle hunter likes to have their 'secret garden' discovered."

"Who could I ask?" Ronan asked.

"Pierre, perhaps. He manages to find some every year. There are more skilled hunters in the village, but spending an afternoon in the woods with Pierre won't be boring at all—he’ll keep telling you jokes," Zoe said calmly.

Since he was destined to return empty-handed, why not prioritize the user experience? Ronan saw a humorous side to Zoe for the first time, which was even more delightful than hearing one of Pierre’s "dad jokes," and he burst into laughter.

[Happiness increased by 5 points for having lunch with an attractive person of the opposite sex.]