Reborn in the 60s, I hunt to support my family and even seduce the village beauty.

After breakfast, before I even reached the research institute by bike, I saw Cheng Jie standing outside the gate in the distance.

"Xiao Kun's here?" Seeing Chang Kun, Cheng Jie strode over and patted him hard on the shoulder: "You're really generous, kid! How can I possibly thank you!"

"Brother Cheng, it's just a little bit of meat. Besides, we're family..."

"A little bit of meat?!" Cheng Jie's eyes widened as he interrupted Chang Kun, gesturing with his hand: "Over a hundred pounds of meat, and you call that a little bit?"

He gestured and sighed, "These days, let alone brothers-in-law and brothers-in-law, even brothers can turn against each other over food. You gave us a donkey leg to eat, and my dad praised you for half the night. Now you've brought us over a hundred pounds of meat. I really can't repay this favor!"

"Brother Cheng, I'm not expecting you to repay any favors. If it really comes down to it, can I just consider it a sale to you?"

"Come on, where can you buy donkey meat? You can't even find pork in the market these days. Fine, I gave all that donkey meat to my boss anyway, I came here just to give you this."

As he spoke, Cheng Jie pulled a pistol from his pocket and slapped it into Chang Kun's hand.

"Um, Brother Cheng, why did you give me a Type 54 pistol?" Chang Kun asked, shaking the small pistol in his hand, full of doubt.

"Type 54? Hehe, young man, take a good look. I'm leaving." Cheng Jie waved his hand and rode away.

Chang Kun stroked the small pistol in his hand and suddenly noticed a line of small characters engraved on the handle.

"1953. Jincheng?" he murmured, frowning as he thought for a moment, then suddenly realized, "Holy crap! This is a trophy from the war against the Koreans and Americans? This isn't a Type 54 at all, it's a TT-33!"

Looking at the dents and scratches on the pistol, Chang Kun was filled with longing and could imagine the war-torn years that followed.

These soldiers defended their country, shed blood and sacrificed their lives, but a few years later, they were criticized and denounced by a group of Red Guards.

Where can we reason with this? Or is it that there are no real principles in this world, and might makes right?

Just as Hu Silang entered the office, Cheng Rongjiang called out to Chang Kun, "Xiao Kun, did Cheng Jie give you this gun?"

"Yes, it was given to me just now at the main gate."

"Then you'd better keep it safe. This gun was taken from the American devils, and Cheng Jie cherishes it very much."

Chang Kun nodded solemnly. The story behind the confiscation of such an intact pistol and its preservation as a private collection must be quite fascinating.

After chatting for a few minutes, Cheng Rongjiang lit a cigarette, brewed some tea, spread out the newspaper, and his office bedding was complete. Another tedious day had begun.

Chang Kun would rather read comic books than glance at newspapers.

It's hard to find a single truth in those newspapers. As someone reborn from the future, he found the words in the newspapers laughable.

What do you mean by "a sow is as big as an elephant, a radish weighs a thousand pounds, and a wheat stalk is as tall as a person"? The key is to draw a picture on it to make it look real.

Everywhere is boasting and exaggerating, claiming there's no grain storage capacity left, even enough to overturn granaries. What about cadres who can't boast? They're the ones hindering socialist construction, and they'll be taken down in less than two months.

Of course, later generations also exaggerated, for example: every family should have at least 300,000 yuan in savings... or suggested that farmers drive to the fields...

Around noon, Chang Kun rode his bicycle away from the research institute, intending to go to the state-run restaurant to see if they had any pre-packaged ingredients.

When I got to the entrance of the supply and marketing cooperative, I saw my mother chatting with Wang Cuiqin through the gate. I didn't know what they were talking about, but they were laughing so hard they were doubled over.

Instead of going into the supply and marketing cooperative, they went directly to the state-run restaurant across the street.

Pushing open the door, you'll find six tables on the first floor.

It was noon, and there was no one eating at the table except for two old men playing chess.

"Hey, Chang Kun?" one of the old men called out to Chang Kun when he heard the door open.

"Director Song." Chang Kun nodded to him, not expecting that Director Song from the supply and marketing cooperative was also here.

The elderly man playing chess opposite him was tall and thin. Hearing this, he looked up and said, "This young man is Chang Kun? Welcome, welcome!"

"We have guests, so we're stopping now." With that, he reached out and fiddled with the chessboard, scattering all the pieces.

"You son of a bitch, Old Zhu, you're cheating! Just two more steps and I'll have you dead!" Director Song stood up abruptly, pointing his finger at Old Zhu, almost poking his face.

Old Zhu responded casually, "This is a restaurant. We have guests, so of course we should prioritize them. How can we continue playing chess? Right, Chang Kun?"

Chang Kun just smiled and didn't say anything. He could tell that the two old men had a good relationship.

"Chang Kun, are you here for a meal?" Old Zhu asked as he gestured to the waiter standing nearby to pour him some tea.

"This is the hotel manager. If you need anything, just ask him," Director Song interjected from the side.

"Director, I'd like to ask if you sell braised meat seasoning packets and hot pot base around here? I'd like to braise some meat myself later."

"That's easy. Just tell me how much meat you want to braise, and I'll have someone make the seasoning packet for you," Director Zhu said, patting his chest. He had heard that the people at the supply and marketing cooperative across the street hadn't lacked meat for the past two months, all because a young man named Chang Kun was a skilled hunter.

These days, even in state-run restaurants, it's difficult to get a bite of meat. It's not just a matter of price; often, restaurants don't even have meat available.

Today, Chang Kun came to my door, and Old Zhu was determined to get closer to him.

"How many kilograms?" Chang Kun thought about the meat in his space. There should be more than a thousand kilograms. Even if he didn't have to braise it all, he would have to braise at least several hundred kilograms.

When Director Zhu and Director Song saw that Chang Kun was just lost in thought and didn't speak, their eyes lit up.

These two old foxes immediately realized that Chang Kun definitely had a lot of meat in his hands.

"Xiao Kun, come on, your mother was still talking about you this morning. Let's go back to the supply and marketing cooperative. What kind of seasoning packets or base materials do you need? I'll find them for you later." Director Song put his arm around Chang Kun's shoulder and walked towards the door.

"You dare, you surnamed Song!" Director Zhu was anxious and quickly took a few steps to stop the two who were leaving: "Chang Kun, don't listen to old man Song. When it comes to seasoning packets, our restaurant is the most authentic. Let's sit down and have some tea first."

Seeing the two men's flustered expressions, Chang Kun feigned ignorance and asked, "Directors, what's going on?"

Director Song laughed: "Xiao Kun, why call me Director? Just call me Grandpa Song."

Director Zhu chimed in, "That's right, Xiao Kun, just call me Uncle Zhu."

"Um... what are you two doing?"

Director Song still had his arm around Chang Kun's shoulder: "Xiao Kun, your mother is still waiting for you at the supply and marketing cooperative. Don't mind this old Zhu."

Director Zhu wasn't familiar with Chang Kun, so he had to speak directly: "Chang Kun, do you still have some meat? Why don't I help you prepare it? Our restaurant is famous for its braised pork, twice-cooked pork, and garlic-flavored pork belly!"

These days, it's not easy to even get meat, let alone expect a chef's skills.

Upon hearing Director Zhu rattle off several dish names, Chang Kun couldn't help but swallow hard.

How long has it been since he tasted twice-cooked pork over rice? He couldn't help but think of the Shaxian Grand Hotel from his past life...