Su Qingzhi stood a little further back, subtly observing him while glancing around out of the corner of her eye.
The old man's clothes were patched, the cuffs were worn white, and a dark blue strip of cloth was sewn onto his shoulder.
He looked rather drab, much like the elderly people commonly seen in the mountains of Yunnan Province.
“Sir, we are an expedition team from the Department of Biology at Peking University,” Shen Zhiyu stepped forward and stood at the front of the team. “We were ordered by the university to go into the mountains to collect some rare plant specimens, such as endangered species like spruce moss and golden thread orchid. But last night there was a sudden downpour, the mountain road was washed away, and the compass malfunctioned, so we went astray without even realizing it.”
As he spoke, his tone was polite and his attitude humble, but his hand quietly pressed against the holster at his waist.
Upon hearing the words "Peking University," the old man's previously stern expression softened, his wariness lessened considerably, and he even revealed a hint of respect.
"Oh, so you're a scholar! A university student! No wonder you're so well-dressed and speak so politely."
He waved his hand, his tone becoming warmer.
"What's there to study on this mountain? It's just weeds and rotten wood that will fall over in the wind and rot in the rain! But since we're here, it must be fate! Come in, come in, sit for a while, have some water, and rest your legs."
He stepped aside to clear the doorway, gesturing for everyone to come inside.
The thatched huts were low, with roofs made of yellow mud and straw.
The wooden door was crooked, and its hinges creaked.
The room was dimly lit, with only a few rays of dim sunlight filtering through a small window in the wall.
A bundle of dry grass was piled in the corner, seemingly for use as a warm blanket or mattress at night.
Several rough pottery bowls were placed on the table, their colors mottled and their edges chipped.
An old teapot stood alone, its spout slightly tilted.
The old man deftly moved out several low stools, the legs of which were of different lengths and creaked as they were placed on the ground.
He patted the dust off each seat and said, "Please make do with your seats. The conditions are basic, but we're not picky."
The iron pot on the stove was bubbling away.
Steaming hot air kept escaping from the gaps in the pot lid.
A rich aroma of meat mixed with the scent of herbs wafted out.
Everyone's eyes were involuntarily drawn to the pot.
The old man grinned, casually tapped his pipe on the ground, and ash fell in a flurry.
"The stew is made with pheasant, which we caught in the back mountains yesterday. There are plenty of them in the mountains, so it's not a rare thing. Everyone will have a bowl later, and it's all you can eat! I'll wash the bowls first. Usually, when no one comes over, the bowls get dusty, so I have to wash them clean before using them."
As he spoke, he picked up a pile of rough bowls stacked together in the corner.
He walked to the small basin outside, scooped up some water, and began to scrub carefully, humming a tuneless folk song as he did so.
"Sir, do you live here all by yourself?"
Su Qingzhi casually glanced around the room, her gaze sweeping over the old photo frames on the wall, the hoe in the corner, and the herbs drying in the sun.
Her eyes, however, remained fixed on the old man's movements.
The old man sighed as he washed the dishes: "Alas, my wife passed away early, more than ten years ago from an illness, without leaving any children. I have little connection with my children... Later, I became too lazy to remarry. It's peaceful being alone, with enough to eat and wear, chopping wood on sunny days and listening to the rain when it rains. I live a peaceful life."
He spoke calmly, his face showing little grief, but rather a detached acceptance of the ways of the world.
"I'm sorry to have startled you, sir."
Su Qingzhi said apologetically, her tone carrying a hint of remorse.
The old man waved his hand and chuckled, "It's alright, these days no one has it easy. Wild animals often roam the mountains, and a few years ago there were even poachers sneaking up in the middle of the night. If I don't take precautions, I'm afraid I won't even have this little bit of peace."
After saying that, he turned around and went to the stove to scoop soup. He stirred the soup in the pot with the wooden spoon, and the aroma became even stronger.
"The air in the mountains is very humid, so I like to cook some hot soup to ward off the cold. I added some old ginger and Sichuan peppercorns. It's a bit spicy, but it warms me up."
He filled the first bowl, but didn't hand it to Shen Zhiyu, who was in charge, nor to the fat man who talked the most.
Instead, he handed it directly to Su Qingzhi, who was closest to him, the bowl still steaming: "Miss, you drink it first, while it's hot."
Su Qingzhi paused for a moment, then smiled and accepted the gift, saying softly, "Thank you, sir."
Su Qingzhi accepted the order readily, a natural smile on her face, and took a sip of the steaming porridge.
In reality, he secretly poured the porridge into the spatial trash can he carried with him while concealing his movements.
"It smells so good!"
She looked up, her eyes crinkling with a smile, and praised him.
Seeing that she liked it, the old man's face immediately lit up with a smile. Just as he was about to scoop up a second bowl, Su Qingzhi quickly stood up and deftly snatched the bowl from his hand: "Grandpa, please sit down. I'll do it. You can rest for a while."
As she spoke, she took the bowl and squatted down by the pot, looking obedient and sensible.
Taking advantage of the moment when the old man lowered his head to cough, she quickly took out the bottle of spiritual spring water that she had prepared beforehand from her sleeve, tilted her fingers slightly, and silently poured the entire bottle of water into the bowl of porridge that had just been filled.
The people inside the room were somewhat uneasy, feeling that this meal had come too suddenly.
But when they caught a glimpse of Shen Zhiyu winking his right eye at them out of the corner of their eye, they immediately understood.
So they all put aside their doubts, picked up their bowls, and drank them down in one gulp without hesitation.
Shen Zhiyu picked up his bowl, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp.
A few minutes later, Su Qingzhi suddenly frowned, raised her hand to her forehead, and muttered softly, "Why am I so dizzy? I can barely keep my eyelids open."
Several people nearby chimed in.
"I'm so sleepy... my head feels like it's filled with lead."
Before the words were even finished, one after another, their bodies began to sway and their eyes became unfocused.
Eventually, they all slid off the benches and fell to the muddy ground with thuds.
In reality, Su Qingzhi and Shen Zhiyu were not affected at all; they were just acting from beginning to end.
The two lay on the ground, seemingly unconscious, but in reality, their senses were perfectly clear.
Soon, they heard the old man's hushed voice coming from outside, his tone strange, babbling something incoherently.
Although they couldn't understand what was being said, Su Qingzhi and Shen Zhiyu exchanged a glance, and in that instant their eyes met, they had already made a clear judgment.
That's Japanese.
They had received special training and had a basic ability to recognize several common foreign languages.
This language with its unique intonation comes from the dialect of Japan.
Su Qingzhi lay on the ground, and before the old man outside could enter the house, she gently touched the back of Shen Zhiyu's hand, who was "unconscious," with her fingertips.
Shen Zhiyu responded very quickly; almost instantly, he gently pinched Su Qingzhi's fingertip with his thumb.
The tacit understanding between the two was already ingrained in their very bones.
The plan continues; they will launch a counterattack as soon as the other side lowers its guard and approaches.
Sure enough, a moment later, the old man, hunched over, cautiously walked in.
He walked straight to Shen Zhiyu's side, squatted down, and took out a thick hemp rope from his pocket.
The rope was yellowed and blackened, clearly indicating that it had been used many times.
He reached out to wrap his arm around Shen Zhiyu's neck.
In that instant, Shen Zhiyu suddenly opened his eyes!
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