The three men and the dog crept down the slope. The wind deep in the forest carried the scent of pine resin, cold yet damp. Occasionally, they would step on a dry branch and break it with a snap, the echo rolling down the ditch. Xiao Ma, his face flushed and breathing rapidly, dared not pant: "Brother Jianshan, how much grain can we get for this pig?"
"It depends on the net weight of the hide and the flesh." Old Zhou shifted the load onto his shoulder. "Pork is in short supply now, so there's a fixed price, and the hides are graded according to regulations. In any case, you can get a few hundred catties of wheat, and the team will remember your work points."
"Then my mother is saved." Xiao Ma grinned. "She said that as long as she can eat some meat, her dizziness will subside."
“Eating meat won’t stop you from feeling dizzy.” Du Jianshan glanced at him sideways. “When we get back, let me see the color of the blood on the back of her hand, and I’ll also get you two doses of herbal medicine. I won’t charge you; just put it on the pig’s tab.”
“Brother Jianshan…” Xiao Ma’s eyes reddened again. “I won’t panic anymore. I’ll listen to you.”
The woods thinned out ahead, revealing a stone embankment. The three men put the pig down, their shoulders trembling with soreness. Old Zhou, panting, sat on the stone, unbuttoned his overcoat, took out a packet of tobacco and handed it to them: "Take a break, moisten your throat."
"Draw it later." Du Jianshan didn't take it, but half-squatted down to draw the knife, wiped it clean with a cloth, and put it back in the sheath. "Take another look around."
He had just stood up when Scarface suddenly pricked up his ears, let out a low growl, and peered into the dense woods to his right. Little Horse instinctively gripped his bamboo fork tighter: "What's that?"
"Something's not right here." Old Zhou also became alert. "If you smell blood, something's definitely on its way."
Du Jianshan gestured for silence, crouched down, moved behind a yellow elm tree, glanced at it, and whispered back, "Crows, three of them, on that dead pine. First birds, then the beasts might come. Let's not drag it, lift it up and carry it."
"Let's go!" Xiao Ma gritted his teeth and put the load back on. "Brother Jianshan, you go first and lead the way."
"I'll cover from the side." Du Jianshan nodded. "Old Zhou, can you still carry on your right shoulder?"
"I'll carry it," Old Zhou said, straining. "These old bones aren't broken yet."
They quickened their pace, exiting the treeline, and came to an old horse trail, its surface firm underfoot. Another half mile, and they would see a dirt road leading into the ravine. In the distance, wisps of smoke rose, like the fires burning at dinnertime in the village.
"Brother Jianshan, when we get to the intersection, I'll go get two people to help." Xiao Ma wiped his sweat. "If it's just the three of us, our legs will break if we carry them all the way to the brigade headquarters."
"Go on, don't lose the carrying pole." Old Zhou laughed and scolded, "If you manage to do such a job, your mother will brag about it to you for half a year when you get back."
“Don’t praise him too much.” Du Jianshan glared at Xiao Ma, but then smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. “When you’re hunting, you have to stay focused the more you hunt. Write down the mistakes you made today in your notebook and copy them ten times. Old Zhou, keep an eye on him and don’t let him slack off.”
“Copy!” Little Ma stood at attention and agreed. “I can recite it right now. The bamboo fork doesn’t point directly at the front, but stands to the side, flicks the path, and cuts with force.”
“One more sentence is needed.” Du Jianshan turned his head to look at him.
"Hmm... a steady gun barrel and a precise knife blade are essential. Survival comes first, then we can talk about the harvest."
"Remember this saying." Du Jianshan glanced at the heavy wild boar under the carrying pole. "As long as you're alive, you have everything; if you're dead, you have nothing."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than two voices called out from the end of the mountain path: "Is this Jianshan?"
"It's me!" Du Jianshan raised his hand. "Li Dazhuang, you've come at the right time, lend a hand!"
Two burly commune members trotted over and took the load from him with a single shoulder. Li Dazhuang wiped the sweat from his neck, his eyes fixed on the pig: "This thing is huge, it's like a mountain! How did you manage to collect it?"
"We accepted it fairly." Old Zhou laughed. "When you get back, tell the accountant to prepare the scales, so there won't be any more shortchanging."
"What nonsense are you talking about?" Li Dazhuang waved his hand. "Would the team dare to shortchange you? The canteen will definitely have extra food tonight. If the ladies are so kind, they can braise a couple more pots of mushrooms and pour this blood sauce over them. I guarantee they'll be incredibly delicious."
"You have to be careful with the mushrooms," Du Jianshan casually advised. "Don't pick the gray-capped ones, be cautious with the purple-stemmed ones, and don't cook them if you're not sure."
"I know, I know," Li Dazhuang replied with a grin. "You may say you're worried, but you're actually more meticulous than anyone else."
The team members walked with strong strides, the carrying pole bobbing steadily on their shoulders. Scarface ran close to the outside of the group, occasionally glancing back at his master. The sound of the wind in the woods faded into the distance, the dirt road at the bottom of the gully widened, and the clouds on the horizon were dyed dark red by the sunset.
Old Zhou suddenly turned around and glanced at the trampled woods, and said softly, "Jianshan, we came here when we were kids. Back then, there weren't pigs this big."
“The forest can be kept alive,” Du Jianshan replied. “People also have to learn to follow the rules of the forest. The more we fight, the less we have to fight next year. Just keep that in mind.”
"I know," Old Zhou nodded.
As the procession drew closer to the village, the sounds of dogs barking, children laughing, and pot lids clattering carried on the wind. Someone spotted them from afar and shouted, "Have you hit them?"
"Got it!" Little Horse couldn't help but shout back, "A big one!"
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