Rebirth in a Courtyard: I Am a Little Hunter

The return journey was exceptionally long. Wei Chen took on the heaviest load, and the circulation of his true energy within his body made him feel much more relaxed than the others. However, to avoid standing out too much, he still pretended to be panting heavily and wiped away sweat from time to time.

When the old locust tree at the village entrance came into view, the setting sun had already painted the western sky orange-red. The first to spot them were the children playing at the village entrance.

"The hunters are back!" the children screamed as they ran back to the village to announce.

Almost the entire village, young and old, flocked to the threshing ground outside the village office. The women marveled at the prey, the children jumped around counting how many there were, and the elders surrounded the hunters, asking them all sorts of questions.

"Three roe deer and one wild boar!"

"The Wei family lad has done it again!"

"This wild boar must weigh over 200 pounds, right?"

The threshing ground was bustling with people, as villagers marveled at the three roe deer and the wild boar. Wei Chen had just put down the prey on his shoulder when his uncle, Wei Changsheng, grabbed him.

"Good lad!" His uncle patted Wei Chen's shoulder with his rough hand, making his bones go numb. "This trip is equivalent to three days' harvest in previous years!"

Wei Chen smiled shyly, his gaze sweeping over the excited villagers around him. Children stood on tiptoe, trying to touch the wild boar's tusks; women were already discussing how to divide the meat; and the elderly circled the prey, occasionally letting out exclamations of praise.

"Attention all members!" Uncle stood on a large rock and struck the gong he carried with him. "According to the cooperative's charter, the game hunted by the village hunting team belongs to the collective. The accountant will weigh it and register the corresponding profits for the hunting team members! Butcher Li will be in charge of slaughtering the animals; there will be an extra meal in the communal canteen tonight!"

A cheer erupted from the crowd. Several strong men immediately brought over two long cutting boards, and Butcher Li rolled up his sleeves, drawing a gleaming pig-slaughtering knife from his leather sheath. The blade flashed coldly in the sunlight, eliciting gasps from the children watching.

"Make way! The boiling water is here!" Zhang Tiezhu and two other militiamen carried over a large iron pot, with boiling water bubbling and steaming inside.

Wei Chen stepped aside, watching the bustling scene. Butcher Li's technique was skillful; he bled the pig with a single cut, then poured boiling water over it to scald the hair. Scraping, gutting, dissecting... the whole process was fluid and graceful, like a performance. The pig's blood was collected in a wooden basin, quickly congealing into dark red lumps; the internal organs were carefully removed and sorted into different wooden basins.

"Xiao Chen!" His mother, Wang Xiulan, pushed through the crowd, grabbed Wei Chen's hand, and looked him up and down. "Are you alright?"

"It's nothing, Mom." Wei Chen turned her around so she could check him. "Not even a scratch."

Wang Xiulan finally breathed a sigh of relief, but her eyes were a little moist: "If your father were still here..." She choked up before she could finish her sentence.

Wei Chen gently grasped his mother's rough hand. The vague image of his father in his memory was that of a tough, unyielding man who sacrificed his life before liberation. The villagers all said that Wei Chen's archery talent was inherited from his father—the sharpshooter who once killed an enemy with a single shot from 300 meters away.

"Aunt Xiulan!" Accountant Li Jianguo came over with the ledger. "Xiao Chen recorded 38 work points this time, so your family will get an extra two jin of meat!"

Wang Xiulan immediately beamed and readily agreed. Wei Chen, however, noticed his mother secretly wiping her eyes as she turned away—in those days, work points were the guarantee of survival.

"Brother Wei Chen!" Wei Ran, the younger sister, skipped over like a little deer, followed by Wei Min, the youngest daughter of her uncle's family. "Minmin said there'll be pork offal soup tonight!"

The two little girls had rosy cheeks and their eyes sparkled with anticipation. Wei Chen ruffled his younger sister's hair: "Go play, remember to come back at mealtimes."

The women were already busy around the large pot. Master Zhang was directing several women as they cleaned the pig intestines and stomach; the water in the large iron pot was boiling, emitting a fragrant aroma of meat. Meanwhile, the accountant had set up a table, and the villagers were lining up to register and receive their meat.

"Wei Chen, come lend a hand!" Uncle San waved from not far away. He and several militiamen were hanging the cut-up pieces of meat on wooden racks and distributing them to households.

Wei Chen walked over and took the cleaver from his third uncle. Wild boar meat has coarse fibers, so he needed to cut along the grain. He channeled a wisp of true energy into his wrist, and the cleaver instantly became as light as a feather, cutting through the meat as easily as cutting tofu.

"Excellent knife skills!" Uncle San exclaimed in surprise, looking at the neatly cut pieces of meat. "Your technique is even more skillful than Butcher Li's."

Wei Chen smiled but didn't answer, focusing on dividing the meat. Each household received three to five jin (1.5-2.5 kg), a mix of lean and fatty meat. When it was his turn, he specifically chose a piece of streaky pork with alternating layers of fat and lean meat—these days, fatty meat was much more valuable than lean meat.

"Xiao Chen, go home and change your clothes," his mother said softly as she approached. "You're covered in blood, how are you going to eat dinner tonight?"

Wei Chen then noticed that his clothes were stained with a lot of blood. He nodded and returned the machete to his third uncle.

"Okay, I'll go back and change my clothes first!" Wei Chen said to his mother, then carried his basket home, which contained two pheasants and a rabbit.

Besides these big catches, Wei Chen's bow and arrow also caught five pheasants and three rabbits today. With so many big catches, the village chief didn't complain about the smaller game, and no one in the village said anything. After all, who would go hunting in the mountains if there was no benefit to be gained?

The other five team members each received a pheasant or rabbit, and the remaining three were left to Wei Chen, since he was the one who shot them.

As he passed the edge of the threshing ground, he saw a group of teenagers kicking an inflated pig bladder around. It was the work of Butcher Li—he had washed and inflated the pig bladder, tied it tightly with hemp rope, and turned it into a very bouncy ball.

"Pass it here!" Uncle San's eldest son, Wei Guo, rushed forward and headed the "ball" into the air. Although the boy was only ten years old, he was as agile as a little leopard.

Five-year-old Weimin followed behind, stumbling and trying to join the game, but was intentionally or unintentionally blocked from the outside by the older children. The little guy stomped his feet in frustration, on the verge of tears.

"Weimin, come here." Wei Chen beckoned to him, taking a piece of fruit candy from his pocket. "Keep an eye on the bow for me, make sure no one touches it, okay?"

The little guy immediately stopped crying and started laughing, solemnly taking the longbow and sitting on the stone millstone beside him as if it were a sacred object. Wei Chen chuckled inwardly; this trick of diverting attention never failed him.

Back home, Wei Chen took a cold shower with well water and changed into a clean blue cloth jacket. The young man in the mirror had clear features, and the lines of his muscles were already faintly visible. He tried to circulate the "Nine Heavens Sun-Shooting Technique," and three strands of true energy flowed through his meridians, bringing waves of warmth.

"The abilities from the game have really come into reality..." Wei Chen clenched his fist, feeling the power surging within him. This gave him more confidence for the difficult period to come.

"Brother! Hurry up!" Wei Ran urged from outside the door, "Minmin said the meat is almost all divided up!"

Wei Chen responded and picked up three large, rough porcelain bowls before heading out. As the sun set, a dozen low tables had already been set up on the threshing ground, with villagers sitting in twos and threes around them. The pork offal soup in the large pot bubbled and simmered, its aroma wafting far and wide.

"Xiao Chen! Over here!" Wei Feng, the eldest son of his uncle's family, waved and called to him. This cousin was in his early twenties and was one of the few high school graduates in the village. He was now working as a clerk in the commune.

Wei Chen walked over and found a table full of young people from the village. Zhang Tiezhu was vividly recounting the day's hunt, and when he talked about Wei Chen shooting an arrow through a roe deer's head, he even exaggeratedly gestured to emphasize the moment.

"Really?" A girl with braided pigtails stared wide-eyed at Wei Chen. "Grandpa Zhao's bow is that powerful?"

Wei Chen recognized her as Li Xinghua, the daughter of Old Li from the east end of the village, who was a teacher at the commune's primary school. Before he could answer, Zhang Tiezhu interrupted, "Of course! Several of us grown men couldn't even draw a bow!"

"Keep bragging!" Wei Feng laughed and shoved Zhang Tiezhu, then turned to Wei Chen and said, "Little Chen, how about teaching us archery sometime? Everyone's a soldier these days, having more skills means more opportunities."

Wei Chen nodded, then suddenly noticed a solitary figure not far away—his uncle's third son, Wei Yan, was squatting on the millstone, staring blankly at the children playing football. The boy was fifteen or sixteen, an awkward age—unable to play with the children, yet unable to integrate into the adult circle.

"Yanzi!" Wei Chen beckoned to him, "Come and sit down."

Wei Yan shook his head and pointed to the longbow next to the millstone: "I'll keep an eye on Weimin." His tone carried a hint of envy.

Wei Chen walked over, slung the bow over his shoulder, and pulled his cousin to the young people's table: "Come on, let me introduce you to a real sharpshooter."

Li Xinghua chuckled: "Oh, is there anyone in our village more capable than you?"

"My master?" Wei Chen blinked. "Old Master Zhao Sanpao was a ruthless character who single-handedly took down three Japanese soldiers back in the day."

This drew a gasp of surprise. Wei Yan's eyes lit up, and he asked softly, "Brother Chen, can I learn archery from you?"

"Of course," Wei Chen readily agreed, thinking it would be good to have another helper. "Meet me early tomorrow morning under the old locust tree at the village entrance."

As they were talking, Master Zhang struck the gong to signal the start of the meal. The villagers immediately lined up in a long queue, each holding a bowl and chopsticks. Wei Chen noticed that the hunters were given a special place at the front of the line—a special courtesy the village extended to hunters.

"Here, let me give you more!" Chef Zhang scooped three times into Wei Chen's bowl with his large ladle, piling up pig liver, pig heart, and pig intestines until they were overflowing, and finally poured a large spoonful of milky white broth over them.

Wei Chen thanked him and returned to his seat to wolf down his food. The pork offal soup of that time was not like the thin soup of later generations—the broth was made from big bones and full of dried ingredients, and every sip was full of oily flavor.

"Eat slowly, no one's going to take it from you," Li Xinghua said with a smile, handing over a cornbread bun.

"Thank you!" Wei Chen didn't say much to her. He could roughly sense what she meant, but Wei Chen had his own plans. He carried the bowl to a group of young men.

The dinner table gradually became lively. Someone brought out homemade sweet potato liquor, which the men passed around, sipping from one another. The women gathered together, chatting about everyday things, bursting into laughter every now and then. The children, having eaten their fill, began chasing and playing again, filling the entire threshing ground with a joyful atmosphere.