Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Huo Jingzhong's eyes lit up when he heard the news.

"Tell me exactly what happened?" Huo Jingzhong turned to his grandson.

Huo Jianian quickly explained how Qi Mo from Wuli Village had killed six people and was now wanted by the authorities.

"Good, good, good. Let's go find the Clan Leader right now," Huo Jingzhong said excitedly.

His oldest grandson, Huo Jiayun, had always excelled in school. When the family fell on hard times, Huo Liangzhou paid for his schooling through college. Yet all of this was undercut by that no-good social climber Qi Mo.

Huo Jingzhong couldn't believe Huo Liangzhou had no interest in his grandson. Every year at ancestor worship ceremonies, Huo Liangzhou would personally ask about his studies.

That was unheard of in Huo Family Village, showing his grandson was special in Huo Liangzhou's eyes.

It was all because of that shameless social climber who seduced Huo Liangzhou. What a disgrace!

Qi Mo followed Auntie Wang Miaomiao, the Clan Leader's daughter-in-law, and arrived in town half an hour later.

Early in the morning, as soon as the sun came out, the heat hit them hard. The temperature soared, making them sweat buckets until their clothes were soaked.

"Momo, what should we buy first?" Auntie Wang asked.

The road was packed with people—some riding tricycles, pulling carts, cycling, or carrying baskets—all heading toward town.

"We'll check the supermarket first," Qi Mo replied.

After chaining up their trikes, they looked at the crowded supermarket entrance. It was overwhelming—people were packed like sardines.

It felt like the doors might burst any second.

"Qi Mo, maybe we shouldn't go in. You're holding the baby—what if someone gets hurt?" Auntie Wang voiced her concern.

Compared to yesterday, the crowd was even worse today.

Before Qi Mo could decide what to do next, a group of security officers appeared, brandishing batons and shouting, "Form a line! Everyone, go to the back and line up!"

After a few whacks with the batons, people started lining up.

The eagle-eyed auntie from yesterday spotted Qi Mo.

Supermarket owner Auntie Huang stepped out. "Xiao Mo, come with me quickly."

Qi Mo smiled when he saw her. "Auntie Huang."

"Auntie Wang, what brings you here?" Auntie Huang greeted Auntie Wang with a smile.

"I came with Xiao Mo," Auntie Wang replied.

"Food's hard to come by today. Follow me through the back—you can pick up some essentials," Auntie Huang offered.

Soon, Qi Mo and Auntie Wang followed Auntie Huang through the back entrance used by staff.

Qi Mo carried a shopping basket, just like Auntie Wang.

While Auntie Wang browsed the shelves, Auntie Huang whispered to Qi Mo, "I put aside some things for you. I'll drop them by tonight."

Qi Mo nodded and whispered back, "I bought chickens and eggs from the chicken farm near Huo Family Village yesterday. If you need any, better get some now before it's gone."

When she heard this, Aunt Huang said, "Alright, I’ll go buy some tonight."

Qi Mo had already bought his grain ration—so he couldn’t get any more today.

But Aunt Wang managed to buy twenty pounds of grain. Qi Mo picked toothpaste, toothbrushes, soap, towels, tissues (both facial and toilet paper), baby wipes, diapers, and—score—two cans of formula.

Beans and such weren’t rationed yesterday, but today they started rationing them.

Luckily, dried vegetables, bamboo shoots, mushrooms, and wood ear fungus hadn’t been rationed yet, so Qi Mo bought a few pounds of each.

Fermented tofu, pickled veggies, chili paste, cooking oil, and salt were all limited to one per person.

Even candies, snacks, and chocolates had purchase limits.

Qi Mo came out carrying two big bags.

Anything over the limit got confiscated.

Prices had jumped severalfold, and checking out was a huge hassle—lines stretched forever.

He was near the top of the list; everything he bought was recorded.

He couldn’t restock for another month.

According to Aunt Huang, the shop owner, this was Taohua Town’s only remaining grain supplier—all other grain shops had been shut down.

She also told Qi Mo that they’d likely get laid off too.

Once the store’s remaining stock sold out, the place would get shut down by the government.

This time, Qi Mo only got two small bags of tissue (facial and toilet), just one bar of soap, one tube of toothpaste—no exceptions—and only one can of formula.

As for the mushrooms and bamboo shoots, Aunt Huang had to sweet-talk the cashier before they let him take them.

Qi Mo loaded the two bags onto his tricycle.

Turning around, Aunt Wang looked at him: “Come with me—we’ll see what else we can scrounge up.”

Aunt Wang rode the tricycle while Qi Mo followed behind.

They cut through back alleys, twisting and turning until they reached the town’s edge.

There was a stream here still flowing, ducks bobbing along its surface...

Aunt Wang knocked on a door.

“Oh, Miaomiao—what brings you?” the homeowner asked.

Aunt Wang lowered her voice: “You got any century eggs left? Sellin’ any salted duck eggs?”

“Yeah, come in,” the homeowner said, ushering both Aunt Wang and Qi Mo inside—even pulling their cart in with them.

The homeowner told them both kinds had gone up.

Used to be just two kuai apiece—century eggs shot up to ten kuai, same with the salted ducks. Want ‘em or not?

Qi Mo wasn’t picky—if they had it, he took it.

Soon, a crate of century eggs and a box of vacuum-packed salted duck eggs were hauled onto Qi Mo’s three-wheeler.

There were also air-dried salted ducks—now 300 a pop when they used to be just a hundred.

Qi Mo bought ten.

Auntie Wang was too thrifty for that, so she only bought half.

Afterward, Auntie Wang took Qi Mo to a tofu shop, where Auntie Huang bought half a slab of tofu—the weather was too hot, it’d spoil fast.

Qi Mo bought a whole one.

According to the shop owner, it could be preserved in saltwater or turned into stinky tofu.

However, Qi Mo spent a hefty sum on two pounds of tofu skin.

In town, it was no longer possible to buy food openly—only under the table, and prices had gone through the roof.

Like cash was worthless.

Qi Mo glanced at the sun and said to Auntie Wang, “I’d like to buy some bottles—airtight ones. Ceramic jars would work too.”

Hearing this, Auntie Wang led Qi Mo to a general store.

Soon, they bought five glass bottles.

Qi Mo also ordered ten wide-mouthed ceramic jars, each one meter tall, for making pickles.

They’d be delivered to his home in the afternoon.

Auntie Wang bought a few as well.

Next, they went to a clothing store to ask the shopkeeper for puffy winter coats—mainly for Auntie Wang.

Qi Mo bought two army surplus coats and two pairs of military boots.

Finally, he grabbed some toy blocks and children’s picture books before the two booked it home.

As soon as Qi Mo moved the items into the basement, the gate got a knock.

Auntie Wang ran over and called out to Qi Mo, “The fish pond in the downstream village is selling fish—want to go? Show me the way.”

Grabbing a small bottle of water, he popped it in the kid’s mouth and took off on his trike.

Auntie Wang turned to Qi Mo and said, “The pond’s aerators are down. With this heat, even if they add water, there still won’t be enough oxygen. Fish are belly-up left and right—they’ve gotta sell.”

Qi Mo understood immediately.

Fish weren’t like chickens—chickens just needed food and water as long as they stayed healthy.

But fish needed oxygen.

This heatwave’s killing them.

“Downstream village has a whole spread of fish ponds. Locals can’t eat ‘em all. No transport to get ‘em to town, and in this heat, the fish croak the second they’re out of water. No ice to keep ‘em fresh either. They’re charging an arm and a leg—buy what you think’s worth it,” Auntie Wang explained.

Qi Mo nodded.

Could always smoke the fish.

In short, he wanted to buy up enough grain—at least that’s how it looked to the villagers.

Aunt Wang switched gears: “Qi Mo, did something happen on your way back? On the road from Jiangcheng to Yuncheng?”

Qi Mo blinked a few times after hearing this.

“Aunt Wang, did you hear something?” Qi Mo asked.

Aunt Wang nodded. “I heard you killed six people.”

Qi Mo sighed. “It was self-defense. The night before last, I was walking along the national highway when some guys stopped me, tried to bully me, and even wanted to take Zaizai. We fought. They tried to kill me, so I fought them off. But it was only five, not six.”

“Some people around here can’t stand your success. The police will definitely come investigate. Liangzhou hasn’t come back yet—what are you going to do about Zaizai?” Aunt Wang asked.

Qi Mo replied, “It’s fine. Liangzhou must’ve already taken care of the warrant issue. Calling the cops shouldn’t be an issue.”

“If things go south, you should hide for a while until Liangzhou gets back,” Aunt Wang said, looking uneasy.

Huo Jingzhong's family not only went to her father but also filed a report at the town police station.

Her father couldn’t stop them fast enough.

Qi Mo frowned—it must’ve been Huo Jingzhong behind it.

Otherwise, he had no beef with anyone else in the village.

“Aunt Wang, don’t worry. The police are busy now—they won’t have time for something so small. Besides, there’s no evidence yet. I trust my husband can handle it,” Qi Mo said.

If push came to shove, he’d really have to disappear for a bit. Just half a month, and those people would drop it.

Fifteen minutes later, Qi Mo followed Aunt Wang to the fish farms in the downstream village. This area was near the reservoir, rich in water resources, unlike Huo’s Village, which had sandy soil that didn’t hold water well.

Many people had come to buy fish, all standing by the ponds.

One pond owner shouted, “Bighead carp, around five to six catties, 200 yuan each!”

Another yelled, “Carp, four to five catties, 150 yuan each!”

A third called out, “Ten-catty black amur, 600 yuan for the lot! Three-catty northern snakeheads, 150 each!”

Dead fish were cheaper—some for 100 yuan, some for 50. Your choice.

Qi Mo definitely wouldn’t pick dead fish.

He bought ten black amur, killed right there, and thirty northern snakeheads, also killed on the spot.

Aunt Wang chose the dead ones—they were cheaper.

But they looked like they had just died—still fresh, with clear, bright eyes.

The two sped up on the way back. It took over fifteen minutes to get there, but they made it back in twelve.

Qi Mo immediately started gutting the fish.

Zaizai sat in the cart, hit hard by the fish stink, calling out repeatedly, “Dada!”

His big eyes watched his dad clean the fish, hoping to catch his attention.

Qi Mo sat under the bike shed.

This is the left wall at the entrance of the yard, with the water cellar on the right and the washing basin beside it.

Gutting forty fish isn’t easy—scaling them all, though the blackfish don’t need to be scaled.

All that’s needed is to slit their bellies open; the guts are tossed into the trash.

The fish smell is pretty strong, making Qi Mo queasy.

He nearly puked up the eight-treasure porridge he had just eaten.

Thankfully, Qi Mo works fast.

The hose washes away the bloody stench.

Most of the fish go into his storage space, leaving only three greenfish and five blackfish to be soaked in strong saltwater to cure.

Tomorrow, he’ll start smoking fish and chicken.

After cleaning the carport, Qi Mo opens the water reservoir to continue filling it.

Then he takes his kid to the third floor for a bath.

The water left out in the morning has been heated by the sun, so it’s perfect for bathing.

Washing off the fishy smell, Qi Mo heads downstairs with the dirty clothes.

He tucks the drowsy child into the fancy playpen, covers him with a small blanket, then carries the clothes to the laundry room.

Setting the clothes aside, Qi Mo puts on gloves and washes the dust covers one by one.

He hangs them all on the hidden clothesline—though it’s not really a clothesline, but the frame of a retractable awning.

Now, even automatic stuff has to be done by hand. When the weather gets hotter, Qi Mo will manually pull down the awning.

After washing seven dust covers, Qi Mo rubs his lower back—he’s worn out.

He soaks the clothes in the washing basin, figuring he’ll wash them later.

Lying on the sofa, Qi Mo thinks that if Huo Liangzhou were here, he’d be stuck doing all this crap instead.

Dozing off, Qi Mo jerks awake at a knock on the gate.

Slipping on his sandals, he walks to the yard and opens the door to see two police officers. “What’s going on?”

“We’ve received a report. You’re Qi Mo, right? We suspect you’re the murderer from Wuli Village. Come with us,” the younger officer says.