As dusk settled, dark clouds, like crumpled velvet blankets, hung heavily over the Hongqi Production Brigade. The bustling village of the day gradually fell silent, save for a few occasional barks from dogs that pierced the night before being swallowed by the thick darkness. Lin Wanqiu had lulled Shen Nian'an to sleep. By the faint moonlight filtering through the window, she carefully examined the ceramic jar hidden in the wooden box under the bed—more than a dozen pale brown eggs lay quietly in the hay, their shells gleaming warmly in the shadows. They represented the heavy hopes she and Nian'an held for their future.

She tiptoed to the kitchen, glancing by the moonlight at the trap beneath the window—the mousetrap had been cleverly concealed by a thin layer of soil and dry grass, blending seamlessly with the surrounding ground; only a faint glint of metal could be seen through the gaps in the grass. Lin Wanqiu's fingertips traced the windowsill, a chill running through her: Old Mrs. Shen was greedy by nature, and Zhang Lan was fanning the flames; they were bound to cause trouble tonight. She wanted to see if this mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, having hit a brick wall, would dare to try anything with her family again.

Meanwhile, in the old Shen family house at the west end of the village, a dim kerosene lamp still shone. Old Mrs. Shen sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), clutching a chipped, rough porcelain bowl, her brow furrowed. Zhang Lan stood before the kang, her face full of resentment: "Mother, I saw it clearly today! That brat Nian'an was holding eggs, and the aroma wafted from far away! Lin Wanqiu must have hidden a lot, otherwise how could she feed that little brat every day!"

"Do you think I'm blind?" Old Mrs. Shen slammed the bowl down on the kang table with a loud bang. "That slut has been like a different person ever since she escaped death. She's selling tofu and raising chickens, who knows how many good things she's hiding! Those eggs should have belonged to the Shen family, why should a widow like her have them all to herself?" She grew angrier as she spoke, her withered fingers pounding the kang table. "You're coming with me tonight, we'll take those eggs back! If she dares to cause trouble, I'll go to the brigade secretary and report her for hoarding supplies and corrupting morals!"

Zhang Lan's eyes lit up, and she nodded quickly, "Mother is right! I'll go get a cloth bag right now, and we'll go tonight!" She turned to leave, but was stopped by Old Mrs. Shen, "Keep your voice down! Don't disturb the neighbors. We'll climb in through the back window, and no one will know!"

As night deepened, the moonlight was obscured by clouds, plunging the world into darkness. Old Mrs. Shen and Zhang Lan, carrying cloth bags, crouched low like two mice stealing oil, and silently slipped to the outside of Lin Wanqiu's courtyard wall. Zhang Lan leaned over the wall, listening intently for any sounds from inside. Once she was sure there was no noise, she gestured to Old Mrs. Shen. Old Mrs. Shen, using Zhang Lan's shoulders as stepping stones, laboriously climbed to the top of the wall, then carefully jumped down. She nearly twisted her ankle upon landing, wincing in pain but daring not to utter a sound.

The two crept to the back window of the kitchen. Old Mrs. Shen gestured for Zhang Lan to keep watch, while she herself extended her withered fingers and gently pushed open the slightly ajar window. A faint aroma of eggs wafted out, making her itch with anticipation. Holding her breath, she first slipped one foot inside, groping for the ground—she figured there would definitely be a container of eggs near the stove in the kitchen; once she got the eggs, she could slip away.

But as soon as her foot touched the ground, she heard a sharp "crack," followed by a sharp pain in her ankle, like being bitten by a venomous snake. The pain made her vision blur, and she couldn't help but cry out, quickly covering her mouth to avoid alerting the people inside. Looking down, in the dim moonlight, she saw a metal mousetrap clamped tightly around her ankle, its metal teeth embedded in her flesh, and blood flowing down her trouser leg.

"Mother, what's wrong?" Zhang Lan, hearing the commotion outside the wall, asked in a low voice. Old Mrs. Shen trembled with pain but dared not answer loudly. She could only grit her teeth and squeeze out a few words: "Quick...quickly help me get this thing off!"

Zhang Lan hurriedly climbed through the window and saw the mousetrap on Grandma Shen's ankle. She turned pale with fright: "Mom, what... what do we do?" She reached out to pry the mousetrap open, but the trap was too tight. She used all her strength, but only managed to loosen the trap a little. Instead, it made Grandma Shen feel even more pain, and tears streamed down her face.

"You idiot! Be gentle!" Old Mrs. Shen hissed in a low voice, the sharp pain in her ankle making her break out in a cold sweat. "Quick... quick, find a rock and smash this trap open!" Zhang Lan finally reacted, hurriedly finding a rock in the yard, then crawling back to the kitchen and smashing it hard against the spring of the mousetrap. With a "click," the mousetrap finally opened, Old Mrs. Shen's ankle was a bloody mess, and the pain made her collapse to the ground, unable to even stand up.

Just then, the lights in the house suddenly came on, and Lin Wanqiu, wearing only a thin shirt and holding a wooden stick, walked out from the inner room with a cold look on her face: "Who's making a ruckus in my kitchen in the middle of the night?"

Grandma Shen and Zhang Lan were terrified. Zhang Lan instinctively tried to dodge, but Lin Wanqiu blocked her way. Grandma Shen forced herself to sit up, clutching her bleeding ankle, and began to complain: "Lin Wanqiu! You heartless bastard! How dare you set a mousetrap in your own yard? Are you trying to kill this old woman?"

Lin Wanqiu sneered, walked up to Old Lady Shen, and looked down at her: "Mouse trap? I set mouse traps to catch mice. Who knew someone would stay up all night, climb into my kitchen, and just happen to step on one?" She paused, her gaze sweeping over the cloth bag in Zhang Lan's hand, "Besides, there's no gold hidden in my kitchen. What were you trying to steal by climbing in at night?"

Zhang Lan was rendered speechless by the questioning, and the cloth bag in her hand fell to the ground with a "thud." Seeing that Zhang Lan had given herself away, Old Mrs. Shen was both anxious and angry, but still tried to argue: "I...I was just passing by, wanting to borrow something from you, but I didn't know your window was open, so I came in to check..."

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