The flying squirrel rolled his eyes and his small body fell freely from the tree.
The little monkey was stunned for a moment and turned to look at Father Lin.
"Haha... Xiao Ming, Guo Qiang, did you see that? I hit it."
Father Lin laughed heartily.
"This... this doesn't make sense!"
Lin Guoqiang scratched his head with a strange expression.
"Old ginger is always wise. Dad, have you ever played with a slingshot before?"
Chen Wang asked with a smile.
"Of course."
Father Lin smiled proudly and said, "When we were young and there was famine, we often went into the woods with slingshots to shoot birds to satisfy our hunger. But we haven't played with it for many years. This slingshot is good and very powerful!"
"Grandpa, why didn't you tell me you could play with a slingshot?"
Lin Zhiming's face was full of disbelief.
"Who doesn't know this? I didn't say it on purpose."
Father Lin smiled playfully.
"Xiao Ming, go pick up that flying squirrel."
Chen Wang smiled and pursed his lips.
Lin Zhiming responded, ran over happily, picked up the flying squirrel, and shook it in his hand.
"Uncle, this flying squirrel is dead."
"Of course. Come over, and I'll stew it for you tonight."
"Uh-huh!"
Lin Zhiming ran back and handed him the flying squirrel.
Chen Wang casually threw it into the medicine basket behind him and looked up at the little monkey.
“Chichi… squeak…”
The little monkey gestured with his hands, looking very aggrieved, obviously blaming him for not telling him there was a flying squirrel inside.
"Sorry, sorry."
Chen Wang clasped his hands together and apologized with a smile.
The little monkey forgave him and walked over to dig the tree hole skillfully.
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