Chapter 344 - 282: Where’s My Son?
When the second and third shots rang out, Zhao Jun couldn’t see a thing, but he could hear the wild boar’s pained squeals and roars.
But as the gunshots continued, the boar fell silent.
Zhao Jun worked the bolt and reloaded, but then he engaged the safety. He slowly got to his feet, slung the rifle over his shoulder, and began to carefully back away.
He had no choice but to retreat. His leftover flatbread was still in his satchel. Besides, when he’d left the bag, he had spotted a fallen, weathered pine tree nearby. He could chop some resinous splinters from it for a torch.
As for the Pig God, it was probably dead. But if it wasn’t, if it had run off, there was no way he could continue the hunt tonight.
Zhao Jun slowly felt his way back along the path he’d taken. A few times, he took out his matchbox, struck a match, and held it up to the surrounding trees.
How much light can a single match really provide?
Especially in these pitch-black mountains. But Zhao Jun had no other choice. He had prepared for everything before leaving home, except for one thing: he’d forgotten to bring a flashlight.
After searching for a good while, Zhao Jun finally found his satchel. He unhooked it from the tree branch, slung it over his shoulder, and then went to find that pine tree for its fatwood.
He chopped off a piece of the fatwood and lit it with a match. The resinous wood caught with a WHOOSH, burning with a smoky, black-plumed flame, but it was enough for Zhao Jun to finally see his surroundings.
He cut another piece to use as a second torch. Holding one in each hand, he walked back toward where he’d fired the shots. Aided by the torchlight, he didn’t have to go far before he saw a massive shape lying on the ground ahead.
Zhao Jun approached and planted one torch in the ground in front of the Pig God’s belly. He then circled around and planted the other above its hindquarters.
Then, it was time to field dress it.
Trying to flip a wild boar weighing over a thousand *jin* onto its back, belly-up, was an incredibly difficult task for one person.
But no matter how difficult, he had to gut it. If the innards spoiled, the entire pig would be ruined.
This boar was meant for his father, Zhou Chunming, to fulfill a specimen request. If the meat went bad, how could it be put on display in a museum?
Zhao Jun struggled for quite some time, becoming drenched in sweat, before he finally managed to roll the massive boar over.
He stood there, hands on his hips, panting heavily for a moment. Only then did Zhao Jun draw the Invasion Blade from the small of his back.
It was time to gut it and let it bleed.
A Pig God this big was bound to have a lot of intestines. He had to be extremely careful while opening the cavity. If he accidentally punctured the gut, there was no telling what kind of filth would spill out.
So, Zhao Jun carefully made an incision in the boar’s belly. With the knife in his right hand, he made a V-shape with the index and middle fingers of his left hand and inserted them into the fresh cut.
He used his two fingers to pull the skin and muscle away from the organs underneath, creating a channel for his blade. He then inserted the tip of his knife and began slicing upward.
As the blade moved, his fingers moved with it, always keeping the hide taut and away from the boar’s internal organs to prevent the knife from nicking them.
The blade sliced steadily upward. Blood, followed by the boar’s intestines and stomach, spilled out. Zhao Jun pulled out all the viscera, including the pluck, and casually tossed them aside.
Then Zhao Jun picked up a torch, went to cut a few branches, and returned to prop open the boar’s body cavity. He then took the flatbread out of his satchel and hung the bag on a nearby tree branch.
After that, Zhao Jun packed the boar’s body cavity with snow.
He was doing all this to keep the meat from spoiling.
This boar was massive, and larger pigs spoiled more easily than smaller ones. If he didn’t handle it properly, by morning the stench would have permeated every fiber of the meat—a smell that could never be washed out.
Once that was done, Zhao Jun gathered some scattered dry twigs and dead branches and built a campfire.
He’d been on the move since morning, and now Zhao Jun was truly exhausted. He leaned against a tree, eating his flatbread and warming himself by the fire.
He glanced over at the Pig God lying on the ground from time to time. ’I wonder what Dad will think when he finds out about this,’ he thought. ’How will he react?’
Such a filial son, thinking of his father even at a time like this.
And as it happened, his father was thinking about him at that very moment.
「In the vast darkness of the night, a Jiefang truck was slowly rolling into Yong’an Village.」 Lin Xiangshun was behind the wheel, while Zhao Youcai and Li Dayong, two old friends, were squeezed into the passenger seat.
After the Lunar New Year, Li Dayong had been transferred to the dispatch team and had been swamped with work ever since.
With the winter transport season about to end, things had finally quieted down for the dispatch team. Li Dayong took the pocket money he’d saved over the past two months, gave it to Zhao Youcai, and asked him to arrange a proper dinner at the canteen. He wanted to treat Wu Feng and the other deputy leaders of the dispatch team.
And since he also needed to discuss his son Li Baoyu’s job prospects, Li Dayong had invited Lin Xiangshun along as well.
They had been drinking since they got off work, and by the time it was nearly seven o’clock, the last commuter bus had long since departed. So, Lin Xiangshun offered to drive the two of them home.
As they neared the village, Li Dayong muttered, "I wonder if those two boys made it back from hunting Xiong Ba today."
When Zhao Youcai didn’t respond, Li Dayong gave him a light nudge with his elbow. "Hey, your son went after Xiong Ba. Aren’t you worried about him?"
How could he not be worried? He only had one son.
But Zhao Youcai, sitting by the door, just twisted his head to look out the window. "He’s always stirring up trouble," he said. "The whole mountain range can barely contain him."
Hearing this, Li Dayong and Lin Xiangshun exchanged a knowing smile and tactfully dropped the subject.
But just then, all three men heard the sound of a tractor. Zhao Youcai, who had been gazing out the window, stiffened and sat bolt upright.
"Dayong!" Zhao Youcai pointed outside. Without turning his head, he asked, "Look, what’s that tractor hauling?"
Li Dayong leaned over Zhao Youcai, craning his neck to look out the window. He saw a Dongfanghong tractor approaching from the west.
About seven or eight meters away from their truck, the tractor made a turn.
As it turned, both Zhao Youcai’s and Li Dayong’s eyes went wide.
The next second, Zhao Youcai raised a hand to rub his eyes. Li Dayong blinked hard as well.
The tractor’s trailer was filled with the carcasses of wild boars, stacked one on top of the other and tied down with ropes.
A single trailer load, probably twenty or thirty boars in all.
Zhao Youcai muttered, dumbfounded, "What in the world... who did this?"
"This..."
Just as Li Dayong was about to continue, the sound of another tractor reached them, along with a voice calling out, "Brother Shunzi!"
Li Dayong looked up to see another tractor slowly approaching on the village road from the west.
This time, Li Dayong rubbed his eyes again, because he could see clearly now. The person driving this tractor was his eldest son, Li Baoyu.
"Brother, is that my son?" Li Dayong asked Zhao Youcai.
He wasn’t saying it to show off his son. He simply couldn’t believe his eyes, especially after having had so much to drink. Li Dayong thought he must be dreaming.
"It’s your son, all right," Zhao Youcai confirmed, turning to look at Li Dayong. "So where’s mine?"