At this moment, they felt more proud and satisfied because they had become "people who had eaten tiger meat."
In the future, this will surely become a topic of conversation that they will enjoy talking about with others after dinner. Whether they are working in the fields or sitting together chatting, they can excitedly talk about their heroic experience of killing the tiger and the unique experience of tasting tiger meat. This will become a glorious mark in their lives.
Yao Qingshuang picked up a piece of tiger meat with chopsticks, put it in her mouth and chewed it gently for a few times, her eyebrows slightly wrinkled.
The taste of the tiger meat spread on the taste buds. The meat was rough, the fibers were tough, and it tasted dry and tough. It lacked the freshness and juice it should have, and was really hard to swallow.
She shook her head slightly, put down her chopsticks and stopped picking up food.
The villagers nearby presented a completely different picture.
They sat around the table, with satisfied looks on their faces, eating tiger meat in big mouthfuls, not caring whether it tasted bad or not.
An old man smacked his lips and said, "Although tiger meat isn't as tender as the meat we usually eat, it's still a rare delicacy. You might not come across it once in your lifetime."
The young man next to him also agreed: "That's right, no matter what, it's all meat. It can fill our stomachs and give us strength."
Yao Qingshuang quietly watched everyone eating tiger meat, her mind awash with thoughts. She couldn't help but sigh, "Thank goodness this is ancient times. If anyone dared to eat tiger meat openly in the 21st century, it would be a truly horrific punishment."
*
As I walked along, I saw wisps of smoke rising slowly from the nearby villages, like a gentle call from the world of fireworks.
At the entrance of the village, you can see moving figures everywhere. Old people sit in front of the door, and the wrinkles on their faces are engraved with the stories of time. They are either chatting or teasing their grandchildren beside them. Children are running and laughing in the alleys, and their crisp laughter seems to be able to dispel all the haze in the world.
Beside the road, large fields of rice swayed gently in the breeze. The yellow rice ears were full and heavy, bending as if they could not bear the weight, as if expressing gratitude to Mother Earth for nurturing them.
In the vegetable fields not far away, the vegetables are also growing well. The rows of green vegetables, cabbages and other vegetables are lush and green. Crystal dewdrops roll on the leaves, and they are shining with hope under the sunlight. It is a scene of vitality and a good harvest in sight.
Seeing this scene, the villagers of Sujia Village could not help but show envy on their faces and sighed sincerely: "This south is so good. Look at the good weather and good harvest. It looks like this will definitely be a good harvest year."
The village chief nodded slightly, his eyes filled with determination and longing. "Don't worry, once we settle down, the land here is fertile, the water is abundant, and with everyone's hard work, we won't lack food. Then, we can also enjoy such a bountiful harvest and live a prosperous and stable life."
The rain in the south fell softly, like an endless silver thread in the sky, and it continued to fall for several days and nights without any sign of stopping.
At first, the people from the north who came to Sujia Village looked at the picturesque rain curtain with curiosity and joy about the southern water town. They felt that the fine rain threads seemed like a gentle veil unique to the south of the Yangtze River.
However, as the days passed, the humid air followed them like a shadow, gradually seeping into every corner of their lives.
Clothes always have a lingering damp smell, and bedding becomes damp, cold, and sticky, and the original fresh and dry feeling is gone.
"How long will this rain stop?" Someone in the crowd couldn't help but complain, his voice full of annoyance and impatience.
"No wonder there's no shortage of water in the south. It rains every day, so how could there be a shortage of water? But this rain is so annoying, it affects our journey." Another person echoed, frowning, his eyes revealing disgust for the continuous drizzle.
Everyone nodded silently. Their once beautiful vision of the South gradually dissipated in the endless rain, and was replaced by a deep desire for dry and sunny weather, as well as worries and anxieties about adapting to the southern climate.
Today, there is a drizzle in the sky. The raindrops are like soft threads or fine cow hair, falling from the sky. They are like silver threads sprinkled by fairies, kissing the earth silently.
The rain was extremely dense. At first, it seemed like a layer of gauze gently covering the ground, making it almost imperceptible to the user's wetness.
When people are in it, it is like walking in a layer of light mist, and they feel that the air is a little more fresh and moist.
However, after a while, you can feel the power of this rain.
Even such tiny raindrops, after standing quietly for a while, will gradually leave a dark wet mark on the shoulders. The fine raindrops accumulate little by little and penetrate into the fibers of the clothes bit by bit, as if silently announcing their existence.
At first, the rain was still gentle, falling like silk threads, as if weaving a layer of hazy gauze between the sky and the earth.
But gradually, the rain seemed to be urged by an invisible force and became more and more violent.
The raindrops turned from fine to heavy, hitting the ground with a crackling sound, splashing high water, as if playing an exciting drumbeat.
Everyone was walking slowly in the rain, but when they saw the rain getting heavier, they all looked anxious.
The rain had seeped through the raincoat and soaked through the clothes, and the cold was seeping into the bones.
Just when everyone was getting anxious, the person who had gone out to explore the way hurried back and shouted loudly: "There is a mountain temple about a mile ahead. Let's go there quickly to take shelter from the rain!"
Hearing this, everyone seemed to have found a life-saving straw and immediately quickened their pace.
The muddy road became slippery and difficult to walk on due to the rain. Everyone struggled forward, taking one step forward and one step back, not caring at all that the splashing mud and water got their trouser legs dirty.
Soon, an abandoned mountain temple came into view.
The erosion of time has caused this mountain temple to show signs of abandonment. The bricks and stones on the walls have mottled cracks and the tiles on the roof are incomplete.
The paint on the temple gate had long since peeled off and was crumbling in the wind and rain.
But even so, it is still like a vicissitudes of life old man, opening its arms, which are not wide but enough to shelter from wind and rain, to welcome this group of embarrassed travelers.
Seeing this, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, glad that they finally had a place to shelter from the wind and rain.
They stepped into the mountain temple cautiously. In the dim light, they saw spider silk crisscrossing, like a dense ghost web, spreading wantonly in every corner.
The tiles on the temple roof were incomplete, and rainwater dripped through the cracks, splashing small drops of water on the ground. The sound echoed in the silent temple, adding a bit of eeriness.
The plaster on the wall has peeled off in many places, revealing the rough bricks and stones inside. Some places are covered with mottled moss, like scars left by time.
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