Duan Zhou spoke with great enthusiasm, gesturing wildly, his face flushed red.
The large enamel mug in front of him, its paint chipped and empty, was now being used as his most important prop.
"You didn't see it! That mad pig, its eyes were as red as burning coals, panting heavily, it was a black lump of iron, and it charged straight at our Brother Haozi with a 'boom'!"
He shoved the enamel mug forward abruptly.
The group of male educated youths surrounding them all had their hearts in their throats as they listened.
Lü Hongwei was the most enthusiastic, his eyes wide open, nervously asking, "And then? And then?"
"And then?" Duan Zhou proudly raised his chin and slapped his thigh. "What kind of person is our Brother Haozi? He remained calm in the face of danger! Just when a hair on his head was about to be severed, he steadily raised his gun and pointed it at that beast's eyes—'Bang!'"
He slammed the enamel mug down on the broken table with a loud crash.
"That wild boar, it just crashed down there with a thud! Blood was everywhere!"
Duan Zhou's mouth was dry from talking, so he picked up the jar to moisten his throat, only to realize it was empty. He could only smack his lips and continue gesturing, still feeling unsatisfied.
Yu Hao sat to one side, silently munching on his cornbread, listening to Duan Zhou boast about himself as if he were a god descended from heaven. He felt a little uneasy, but also a strange sense of satisfaction.
He figured it out after returning from the threshing ground.
In front of the whole village, the brigade leader praised him and Zhao Weiguo to the skies, but only vaguely mentioned his brother Yan Yu's matter.
This must have been arranged in advance by Brother Yu.
He didn't want to be flashy.
So Yu Hao didn't say a word, letting Duan Zhou, that big mouth, portray himself as a hero who hunted wild boars.
The entire dormitory of the educated youth settlement was noisy because of Duan Zhou's "live broadcast". Everyone was eating the meat they had been given and chatting, as if the fear they had felt on the mountain had become something to brag about at this moment.
Only one person, like a drop of ink, could not blend into this clamor.
An Sanchuan.
He huddled in the darkest corner of the dormitory, where the light cut off almost completely, swallowing his shadow.
The stewed pork in the bowl in front of me had long since gone cold, and the white lard on the soup had congealed like a disgusting layer of dead skin.
He kept his head down, mechanically poking at the few wilted pickled cabbages in the bowl with the tip of his chopsticks, until they were mushy, oblivious to everything around him.
Yan Yu...
The name lingered in his mind like a thorn stuck in his flesh.
Someone who can make someone as hot-tempered as Yu Hao willingly obey and act.
A man who performed a great service on the mountain, yet the entire village tacitly concealed his deeds, leaving only gratitude behind.
This is definitely not a skill that an ordinary educated youth sent to the countryside could possess.
People who are too smart and too capable are either a huge help or... a fatal variable.
An Sanchuan's lips curled into a cold smile.
It seems I need to be more careful.
He slowly picked up a piece of pickled cabbage that had been poked and mashed, put it in his mouth without expression, and chewed it slowly. The cold, sour, and greasy taste seemed to be the secret he was chewing at that moment.
………………………………
In stark contrast to the hustle and bustle and coldness of the educated youth settlement, Yan Yu's courtyard was warm and cozy.
The heated walls inside the house kept it warm and cozy, completely blocking out the harsh cold outside the window.
As Yan Yu carried the freshly boiled kettle into the inner room, he unconsciously shuffled his feet very lightly.
The flame of the kerosene lamp flickered quietly, and in its warm yellow glow, a scene on the kang (a heated brick bed) made him stop in his tracks.
Ruan Tang was fast asleep on her side, with a chubby orange cat in her arms.
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