Zhang Cheng ignored her gaze.

He cut a piece of greasy pork fat from the wild boar carcass and slowly melted it by the fire.

Then, he picked up the old hunting rifle and carefully wiped the barrel, bolt, and other metal parts with a cloth soaked in warm lard.

The cold steel, moistened by the grease, gleamed with a dark luster.

This is an old, single-barreled shotgun. The stock is severely worn, and the rifling inside the barrel is probably almost flat.

Zhang Cheng pulled back the bolt and looked at the barrel in the flashlight.

Performance is questionable.

The error is definitely not small, and the effective range is pitifully short.

We must find an opportunity to calibrate it, or at least know roughly which direction its point of impact will be biased.

He took the small cloth bag off his waist and poured out the only eight brass bullets inside.

He picked up a bullet and skillfully chambered it.

"Click".

The crisp sound of cocking the gun was particularly clear in the quiet room.

He wanted to try out the gun.

Just then, Shi Yangyang, who was on the kang (a heated brick bed), suddenly made an anxious "ah ah" sound, pointing at the bubbling pork in the pot.

She wanted to eat meat.

Zhang Cheng glanced at her and then leaned the shotgun back against the wall.

He pulled a half-burnt, sharp stick from beside the fire, stirred it in the pot, and picked up a piece of pork that was half-cooked and still had traces of blood.

Steaming hot, with the aroma of meat filling the air.

He walked to the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) and held the wooden stick to Shi Yangyang's mouth.

Shi Yangyang hesitated for a moment, seemingly a little scared, but in the end she couldn't resist the instinct of hunger, opened her mouth, and carefully bit into the piece of meat.

She tore at it forcefully, chewing it greedily, making satisfied, muffled sounds in her throat.

Zhang Cheng also picked out a piece, leaned against the fire, and ate it heartily.

The meat was coarse, had a strong gamey smell, and wasn't seasoned at all, so the taste was really not good.

But for him, who was starving and freezing, this was undoubtedly the most delicious food in the world.

The warm meat slid down my throat, and the warmth instantly spread to my limbs and bones, dispelling the chill that had seeped into my bones and replenishing my rapidly depleted energy.

The rich aroma of meat wafted out through the holes and cracks in the mud house, carried by the wind, and eventually entered the relatively grand brick house not far away.

The east wing of the main house.

Zhang Cheng's older brother, Zhang An, and his wife, Er Ya, who was more than seven months pregnant, were huddled together in the cold bed.

Er Ya was first woken up by the cold, and then she smelled that domineering aroma of meat.

"Honey, smell this! What's that smell? It smells so good!"

Er Ya nudged Zhang An beside her.

Zhang An was fast asleep when he was woken up. He was a little impatient and sniffed the air.

"Meat! It tastes like meat!"

He sat up abruptly, his eyes wide open.

These days, especially in the winter when the mountains are snowbound, who can afford to stew meat?

In the west wing, Old Zhang was also awakened by the unusual fragrance.

He sat up, still wearing his tattered cotton-padded coat, and twitched his nose vigorously.

"It smells like meat... Who's cooking meat in the middle of the night?"

He muttered to himself, wondering if some skillful neighbor in the village had caught a pheasant or rabbit in the snow.

"Dad, the smell seems to be coming from... the backyard?"

Zhang An also got off the ground and peered out through the crack in the window, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

backyard?

The only thing in the backyard was the dilapidated mud house of the second son's family, who had moved out and lived separately.

Old Zhang was also stunned.

Er Gouzi's house?

Where would that good-for-nothing who can't even get enough to eat get meat?

"Let's go! Let's go take a look!"

Zhang An got excited and rushed out without even putting on his coat, only putting on a pair of pants.

Old Zhang quickly put on his clothes and followed him out.

The father and son braved the wind and snow to reach the backyard, where the rich aroma of meat became even more pronounced, its source pointing directly to the small mud hut with a faint firelight.

"This really is Er Gouzi's house!"

Zhang An's eyes lit up; he was almost certain that there was stewed meat inside, and quite a lot of it!

He rushed to the door of the mud house and pounded on the dilapidated wooden door.

"Er Gouzi! Open the door! What are you doing? What delicious stew are you making?"

Inside the house, Zhang Cheng heard the noise and his brows furrowed instantly.

He put down the half-eaten pork bone, grabbed the old hunting rifle leaning against the wall, and did so without the slightest hesitation.

He walked to the door and suddenly flung it open.

Outside the door, Zhang An was rubbing his hands together, looking impatient.

When he saw the firelight inside the house, the chunks of meat bubbling in the pot, and especially the dark muzzle of the gun in Zhang Cheng's hand, the smile on his face froze.

"Second brother, where...where did you get the meat? And this gun..."

Zhang An's voice was a little dry.

"roll."

Zhang Cheng's voice was cold and devoid of any emotion.

"What did you say?!"

Zhang An was stunned for a moment, then flew into a rage, "I'm your older brother! You hunted the game, stewed the meat, and instead of sending some to your parents, brothers, and sisters-in-law, you want me to get lost? You heartless ingrate!"

At this moment, Old Zhang also came up. He was also surprised when he saw this scene, and then he put on a stern face.

"Ergouzi! How dare you talk to your older brother like that! Quickly serve your brother a bowl of meat! And your mother too, you need to take her there!"

"You're becoming more and more outrageous!"

Zhang Cheng looked at them expressionlessly, his hand holding the shotgun as steady as a rock.

"I'll say it one last time, get out."

"You've gone too far!"

Zhang An was so angry he jumped up and down, pointing his finger at Zhang Cheng's nose and yelling, "You dare point a gun at me? You dare shoot me?!"

Old Zhang shouted sternly, "Er Gouzi! Put down the gun! You dare touch a single hair on your brother's head? I'll break your legs!"

My dear reader, there's more to this chapter! Please click the next page to continue reading—even more exciting content awaits!