Chapter 5: The Shotgun Acquired

Since he was preparing to deal with the big guys, weapons were naturally indispensable.

Fortunately, he knew of a place that had some.

So, two days later, he set off straight for the forest farm ten miles outside Xiaoliang Village, bringing along a wild pheasant and a rabbit.

There had once been several hunter slots there, but after the issues in the 1960s led to a decline in game, the program was shelved.

Still, a few hunting rifles and plenty of ammunition remained stored there.

He had learned about this during a previous life when he went hunting near that forest farm and heard an old man mention it.

In the afternoon,

When Li Xiangyang arrived at the forest farm, only two forest rangers were present; the captain had gone out on an errand.

He recognized the two rangers—Sun Yongliang and Li Wenbin—both locals.

“Li Xiangyang?”

Hearing his name, Sun Yongliang paused to recall, then remembered they had met years ago during a forest hunt.

But that had been a long time ago; later, because of Su Yan, Li Xiangyang stayed in the village, and the two had little further contact.

Yet in his previous life, Li Xiangyang had been close with Sun Yongliang, as they both enjoyed shooting and became partners.

“Right, it’s my first time here. I want to talk to your captain about something.”

“Talk about something?”

Sun Yongliang clicked his tongue.

“You want to buy a hunting rifle, don’t you?”

Li Wenbin saw through Li Xiangyang’s intent at once.

“Hey, this forest farm’s a dead end — who’d come to the captain with business?”

“But I’ll tell you, the captain’s not easy to fool.”

As he spoke, Li Wenbin twirled his fingers.

Li Xiangyang had spent time at this forest farm in his previous life; he was well aware of the captain's reputation.

He had prepared a grand gift for this purpose.

One that money alone couldn’t buy.

The three sat down together and began talking. As the conversation grew lively, they felt they had met too late in life.

Li Xiangyang then shared the rabbit meat and pheasant he had brought. The two rangers didn’t fuss and brought out various seasonings and some mushrooms they had dried in autumn, combining everything into a stew.

When the rich aroma of meat wafted from the pot, the captain returned.

He was in his forties, bundled tightly against the cold, with only his eyes visible.

Seeing the three men gathered around the pot and smelling the meat, his eyes immediately lit up.

-----

Though living off the mountains and rivers, hunting in the dead of winter was tough, so he hadn’t eaten game in some time.

He quickly took off his padded jacket, sat down, and joined the others in eating.

After several rounds of drinking, Li Xiangyang explained his purpose to the captain.

“Buying a hunting rifle?”

The captain’s face bore a faint drunken flush. Although there were still hunters at the forest farm, their roles were mostly symbolic.

After all, firearms were dangerous items, and the paperwork to dispose of them was cumbersome, so he had kept them.

“The Type 56 hunting rifle goes for 200 yuan each; bullets cost 1 yuan apiece.”

Seeing that Li Xiangyang was a promising hunter, the captain quoted a price.

For an ordinary person, this would be discouraging—200 yuan was more than a rural person could earn in a year.

Not to mention paying 1 yuan per bullet.

But this was no problem for Li Xiangyang.

He smiled mysteriously and pulled something from the pouch behind him.

A lump of pure white snow frog oil.

This was exactly what Li Xiangyang had extracted from frogs caught two days ago.

Li Wenbin and Sun Yongliang pinched their noses and recoiled, as if Li Xiangyang held some biological weapon.

In fact, the snow frog oil had no unpleasant odor.

“Don’t be so squeamish. You don’t understand — this is a treasure!”

The captain’s eyes lit up. It was rare to come across so much of this substance in years. When encountered, some would pay a high price without hesitation.

“Snow frog oil is indeed valuable. Even with money, few can get their hands on it!”

Li Xiangyang placed the snow frog oil on the table. Li Wenbin and Sun Yongliang leaned in, marveling.

“Is this enough to trade for one?”

Before coming, Li Xiangyang had estimated that if he sold this snow frog oil in the city, it would fetch at least 300 yuan.

After all, rarity made it precious.

“That’s more than enough, brother.”

The captain warmly grasped Li Xiangyang’s hand.

Though small in size, its value was roughly equal to a Type 56 rifle. Only a fool would sell it for cash.

Its true worth lay in gifting.

In later times, snow frog oil was far more expensive than bird’s nest; even in this era, only a few could afford it.

And with the promise of beauty and skincare benefits, no woman could resist.

The power of persuasion whispered at one’s bedside was something the captain understood better than most.

-----

Once gifted, a little whisper, and he could leave this godforsaken forest farm behind.

This wasn’t just giving the captain money—it was handing him a ladder to the sky.

“Brother, I’ll issue you a certificate proving you’re one of our forest farm hunters. If you run out of guns or bullets, come straight to me!”

With a grand gesture, the captain issued Li Xiangyang a hunter’s permit. Of course, it wouldn’t take effect immediately; it needed to be registered and would take some time to become valid.

With this, Li Xiangyang would be a welcome guest at any forest farm in the future.

The four drank until the sun was about to set, then the captain finally let Li Xiangyang go.

He even stuffed a pouch of their own dried mushrooms into Li Xiangyang’s hands.

Li Xiangyang’s tolerance for alcohol was high. Once outside, the cold wind sobered him quickly.

Had his drinking capacity been lower, he might have had to stay overnight at the forest farm.

After all, in the Northeast, countless people never woke up after falling asleep drunk each year.

Humming off-key, Li Xiangyang slung the newly acquired Type 56 rifle and eighty rounds of ammunition over his shoulder and leisurely headed back toward Xiaoliang Village.

The next morning, sober and refreshed, Li Xiangyang took the rifle and bullets into the mountains.

A skilled hunter is made by ammunition, and he also needed to calibrate the rifle.

After wandering through the woods, he fired twenty rounds. The first ten were for calibration; gradually, he regained the feel from his previous life, ensuring nearly every shot hit within 200 meters.

This was terrifying precision, especially since the Type 56 had no optical sight; hitting targets within 200 meters was worthy of a sharpshooter.

Just as Li Xiangyang prepared to return, a gray figure with a spotted tail fluttered down from above.

Li Xiangyang laughed. He’d been wondering what to have for dinner, and now a gift fell from the sky.

This “gift” was no ordinary bird—it was the Hazel Grouse, colloquially called the Flying Dragon.

In later times, it would be a protected species, with a minimum ten-year sentence for poaching.

At this moment, the bird perched on a branch was unaware of the danger below. Li Xiangyang took careful aim.

With a gunshot, feathers exploded from the bird’s body as it plummeted from the branch.

Li Xiangyang packed up his rifle and happily retrieved the grouse. Dinner was secured, perfect for stewing with mushrooms brought back from the forest farm.

Eating rabbit every day had grown tiresome; this would improve the meals for his mother and sister.

That evening, back in Xiaoliang Village, Li Xiangyang caused a stir.

A crowd of young male intellectuals surrounded him, clicking their tongues in admiration.

In those days, guns weren’t strictly controlled, but only a few had ever handled one.

The rifle Li Xiangyang carried was personally selected by the captain, pristine and nearly new, reportedly unused since the last hunter retired when it arrived.

Li Xiangyang held his head high and chest out, carrying the gun as he strode through the crowd without sparing a glance for the dusty, disheveled Su Yan in the distance.