Reaching the stone slope, Han Ligong turned back, a trace of mud on the corner of his mouth: "I didn't see a second one, but I found fresh footprints upwind, with marks from an iron sheath nearby. It's not the work of people from our village; it's made with lead, and there's even some machine oil on the end of the thin rope."
Old Zhou's face darkened: "It's those guys from other villages again. I knew it wasn't a coincidence that the pheasant nest was stolen a couple of days ago."
Du Jianshan slumped down on his shoulder, shifted the carrying pole to the other, and took a breath: "Write this down. Tomorrow we'll split into two groups and pry open all their snares in the old forest, leaving two to guard the spot. If we catch anyone, we'll send them to the commune and let the militia team question them."
Zhang Jianjun was furious: "They dare to come to our mountain to steal traps, do they really think no one cares about this place?"
“Being stubborn won’t help; you need to be tough on your eyes and feet,” Du Jianshan said. “Come on, let’s rest after we get off the slope. Jianjun, go to that bent-necked birch tree and give me a back rub. My chest feels so tight.”
When they reached the birch trees, Zhang Jianjun quickly wet the tattered towel in his basket, wrung it out, and used it to wipe the sweat from the man's brow. He then lifted the cotton-padded jacket over the man's shoulders, saying, "Your ribs are bruised. You'll have to apply egg white to them when you get back, and then put on some mercurochrome. Brother, I won't allow you to carry me any more."
Du Jianshan glanced at him, didn't argue, and simply told Lao Zhou to take the pig's head first, while he himself stepped back to support it. The group took turns walking, and when they reached the drying ground halfway up the mountain, they could already see smoke rising from the village entrance. The shouts of children drifted up from afar, and someone had already banged on an iron pot twice from the lookout tower, the sound carrying deep into the mountains.
“They saw it,” Old Zhou laughed. “Tonight, everyone, young and old, will come to join the fun.”
Upon reaching the village entrance, team leader Zhang Qiming, leaning on a cane, approached, followed by a group of people—men, women, and children—crowded together. Zhang Qiming's eyes lit up when he saw the wild boar: "Good heavens, that's a big gash. Jianshan, are you alright?"
"It's just a superficial injury." Du Jianshan waved his hand. "First, arrange for someone to boil water and clean the pot. Old Zhou, cut off the pig's head first, scald it with boiling water to remove the hair, but don't damage the skin. Jianjun, go find a scale; we need to weigh it accurately today so we can divide the work."
Zhang Qiming immediately made a decision: "Accountant Zhao, bring the ledger. Record the hunt first, then the work done. Han Ligong, go and tell the canteen to bring out two jars of pickled cabbage from the cellar, and grab a handful of scallions. We'll give everyone an extra meal tonight, the elderly and children first."
Someone had already set up the iron pot in the yard, and several people were carrying buckets of water, pouring it in with a whooshing sound. The firewood was crackling and burning in the stove. Du Jianshan pressed his chest to catch his breath, then went forward and grabbed the pig's head, scraping the skin cleanly with a knife. Old Zhou was sprinkling salt water nearby, muttering, "This skin is so tender, we can't bear to waste it even if we make a raft from it. The supply and marketing cooperative sets the price at fifteen yuan a piece; we'll keep one piece for ourselves to make a belt, and hand over the rest."
Zhang Jianjun retrieved the scale beam, and he and two young men hung the wild boar on it, temporarily tying a cloth cover to the beam. With a combined effort, the scale beam creaked. Accountant Zhao bent down to examine the weight, his eyes gleaming: "Net weight 182 jin. The two bundles of offal are separate. The liver is fresh; we'll save it for the new mother. Tomorrow morning, cut half and send it to the clinic for the hospitalized patients to replenish their bodies."
The captain nodded: "According to the rules, the hunting team takes 40%, the commune gives 30%, and the remaining 30% is distributed according to the population of the entire village. The hides are handed over, and the teeth are given to Du Jianshan as a souvenir."
Some people joked, "If you see this mountain with its fangs hanging above your door, it's sure to ward off evil spirits."
Du Jianshan smiled and said, "Stop joking. Save your teeth for the team. Make a whistle; we'll need it when we're out at night in the mountains."
The division of labor was quickly decided: some skinned animals, some gutted them, and some scraped off the oil. The courtyard was bustling with activity. Han Ligong pulled over a wooden bucket and sat on the threshold to wipe the homemade gun: "Jianshan, the mark on the windward side just now looks like someone wearing rubber shoes. The right foot was heavier in the front and lighter in the back, so the heel might have been injured."
Du Jianshan raised an eyelid: "Remember it clearly. Show the captain the painting you saw later. Tomorrow before dawn, we'll go in through a big circle and bring the person out."
Zhang Jianjun ran over carrying a pig liver: "Brother, my sister-in-law borrowed my pot to stew liver, saying she wants to help you recover."
Du Jianshan waved his hand: "First, send two pieces to Aunt Zhao's house. Her grandson has just been weaned and is lacking meat and water. Then take one piece to Uncle San's place. The old man has bad teeth, so chop it up and cook it into porridge for him."
Upon hearing this, Zhang Qiming smiled and said, "That's the rule. The old and weak are given priority, and hunters don't eat alone."
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