Chapter Seventeen: A Bountiful Harvest

Fifteen yuan—this sum felt enormous to Li Xiangyang at the moment. He opened his mouth but found himself at a loss for words. In these times, asking to borrow money was the hardest thing to do. Moreover, his family still owed debts to two uncles.

Uncle Li looked at him, sensing his embarrassment, and sighed. "Xiangyang, don’t trouble yourself. I’ll find someone to fix it for you first. You can pay me back when you’re more financially stable."

"Uncle Li, that’s..." Li Xiangyang’s voice was hoarse.

"You’re a sensible boy," Uncle Li waved his hand, his eyes flickering. "Your father helped me a lot while he was alive. When we built our house back then and lacked timber, it was your father who led me into the mountains to find it. Without him, my house wouldn’t have been built."

A warm feeling blossomed in Li Xiangyang’s chest.

This was rural life—relationships mattered more than money. Yet precisely for this reason, he could not allow Uncle Li to suffer any loss.

"Uncle Li," he said earnestly, "give me three days. I’ll go into the mountains and try to bring back enough game. I promise to gather the money to pay you for the repairs."

"You’re a good lad..." Uncle Li looked at his determined eyes and suddenly smiled. "Very well, I’ll prepare the materials right away."

Li Xiangyang felt a surge of warmth. He knew that when Uncle Li said "prepare the materials," it probably meant using all the spare supplies from his own home.

"Uncle..."

"Enough, don’t say more," Uncle Li waved him off. "If you’re going into the mountains, hurry up. The weather can change in an instant; don’t delay."

Watching Uncle Li’s retreating figure, Li Xiangyang’s eyes grew moist. In this era of scarcity, everyone lived frugally, so such help was an immense kindness.

He clenched his fists silently. This trip into the mountains, no matter what, he had to bring back enough game. Not only to settle his debts to the two uncles but also to spare Uncle Li any hardship.

After bidding farewell, Li Xiangyang shouldered his bow, arrows, and hunting rifle and set out.

The strong wind from last night had given him a chance. In such weather, large game that did not hibernate would often choose sheltered spots to conserve energy.

He followed the path he had taken yesterday, heading deeper into the mountains.

Intentionally avoiding the area where he had encountered a wolf pack two days prior, he took a rarely traveled mountain trail.

The snow was deep along the way, requiring great care with every step.

Experience told him that in such weather, animals’ ranges would shrink considerably.

For a hunter, this was an advantage.

After about two hours, he spotted fresh wild boar rooting marks on a broad hillside.

Li Xiangyang immediately grew cautious. Wild boars in winter were notoriously fierce.

Cold and hunger heightened their aggression, making encounters even more dangerous than with a tiger.

He studied the freshness of the tracks carefully; hoofprints in the snow indicated a group of boars nearby.

Following the trail, he found his quarry at the edge of a pine forest: three wild boars digging through the snow in search of pine nuts.

Holding his breath, Li Xiangyang slowly crept behind a large tree.

This spot offered cover from the trunk and a quick escape route if necessary.

He first lowered his bow—he would not fire unless absolutely certain.

Gunshots could startle other game and possibly attract unwanted trouble.

Suddenly, a particularly large boar lifted its head, sniffing the air alertly.

Li Xiangyang froze, not daring to breathe.

This large boar was the most dangerous. If discovered, it would attack without hesitation.

When the boar lowered its head again to forage, Li Xiangyang slowly drew his bowstring.

This arrow had to count; a miss could be disastrous.

Yet just as he was about to release, a gust of wind shifted, and the boar abruptly snapped its head up, eyes locking onto his position.

His heart stopped.

The wind had changed.

The boar emitted a deafening roar and charged at him.

In this critical moment, Li Xiangyang dropped his bow and seized his rifle.

"Bang!"

The gunshot echoed through the valley.

The boar halted abruptly but did not fall.

It shook its head, eyes blazing with fury, and charged again.

Li Xiangyang acted swiftly, chambering a second round.

This time, he aimed for the boar’s eye.

"Bang!"

Another shot rang out.

The boar collapsed with a heavy thud, twitching a few times before stillness.

Li Xiangyang trembled as he lowered his rifle, cold sweat soaking his brow.

In that instant, his life had hung on this shot.

Had he missed the eye, there would have been no time for a second shot from that distance.

He drew a deep breath, forcing himself to calm.

The other two boars had already fled, leaving chaotic hoofprints in the snow.

Though unfortunate, he had no time to dwell on it.

Approaching the fallen boar, he gasped.

This boar was even larger than he had imagined, weighing at least three hundred pounds.

Its tusks alone measured half a foot long.

Had he been pierced by those tusks, the outcome would have been grim.

His first shot had struck the shoulder but missed vital organs, enraging the beast into a reckless charge.

Fortunately, the second shot found the eye; otherwise, today’s encounter might have ended very differently.

Li Xiangyang crouched down to examine his prize.

The meat was at its prime, with thick layers of fat nearly three fingers deep.

Even at the lowest market price, it could fetch over forty yuan.

If sold to a discerning buyer, it might bring sixty.

Relieved, he finally exhaled.

Though fraught with danger, this trip’s harvest was concrete.

Not only enough to clear all debts but also to provide more for the family’s winter needs.

He dared not waste time.

Such a large quarry required careful processing.

Moreover, the gunshots might attract other predators, especially the wolves.

He had to work quickly to prepare the carcass and transport it to safety before nightfall.

Pulling out a rope, he began cleaning the boar.

But recalling the terrifying moment, his hands trembled slightly.

Indeed, every gain in these deep mountains was paid for with one’s life.

He dragged the boar to a wind-sheltered spot beneath several large pine trees.

Here, the trees shielded against the cold wind and concealed the site from predators above.

Taking a knife from his bag, he first slit the boar’s throat to bleed it out.

Blood seeped into the snow, staining it a dark red.

Though wasteful, he had no choice.

Dragging the entire carcass would be disastrous.

Now was the most perilous time; he could not afford to relax.

The scent of blood would surely attract other carnivores.

With this in mind, he worked faster, skinning and gutting the boar.

The steaming innards still emitted wisps of vapor; he carefully preserved the useful organs.

In this era, every part of a wild boar was valuable.

Perhaps fortune favored him; this time, no carnivores appeared.

After breaking down the meat and reducing the weight as much as possible, he planned to transport it in four trips.

Though this meant more journeys, it was the safest approach.

In such weather, shortcuts often led to disaster.

He walked with frequent pauses, constantly alert to his surroundings.

Only after delivering the last portion to a secluded spot at the village entrance did darkness fully fall.

Looking at his hard-won spoils, Li Xiangyang sighed.

Though fraught with danger, this day had yielded a bountiful harvest.