Chapter 47

Chapter 47

The night was uneventful.

The next day, as dawn broke, Old Man Zhao and his three sons woke up. Their eyes were open, but they didn’t get up right away. The four of them lay on the dew-soaked grass, still in a daze.

The sudden upheaval of the previous day had left them physically and mentally exhausted. They had slept soundly, but when they woke, they felt lost, unsure what to do or even what they *could* do. Today, there was no need to chop firewood, work the fields, or fetch water. Their only task was to guard the cellar and, at the first sign of movement outside, quickly hide the entire family inside.

Even gathering firewood seemed unnecessary—making a cooking fire would produce smoke, which might attract the refugees.

They had no idea if the refugees had left after looting the village overnight or if they had ravaged the crops in the fields. It was already midsummer, and the rice in the fields was nearing maturity. The night before, as he fell asleep, Old Man Zhao had been worrying about the grain, afraid that those locusts wouldn’t be satisfied with just plundering the village’s stores and would also destroy the rice that wasn't fully ripe yet.

That was the only hope for dirt-poor farmers like them after a year of hard work.

“Dad, do you think we should sneak down the mountain to check the situation?” Zhao Dashan was also thinking about the grain in the fields. Their family’s fields not only grew rice but also had many beans planted along the ridges. All of that was edible food, and the thought of any of it being destroyed made him ache inside.

Old Man Zhao also wanted to sneak down and see for himself. He wanted to know not only whether the refugees had left but also to check on their house—whether it had been completely burned down and if there was any chance of salvaging it. But their lives were more important. Although he was familiar with the mountains and they were hidden halfway up the slope with the woods as cover—making it unlikely the refugees would spot them even if they were still around—what if they did?

Old Man Zhao cherished his old life dearly. For safety’s sake, they had to endure at least a couple more days.

He sighed, brushed off some fallen leaves that had blown onto him at some point, stood up, and shook his legs. The mountain nights were strangely cold, and after sleeping through one, his legs felt frozen. “What’s done is done. There’s no rush right now. At worst, things can only get worse. Right now, nothing is more important than our lives. No matter what, our family won’t go hungry.” He glanced at his daughter, who was sprawled on the reed mat under a thin quilt, sleeping soundly.

No matter what, they had to focus on the present.

Zhao Dashan thought about it and saw his father's point. He sighed and didn’t bring it up again.

The four of them got up, jumped around on the spot to loosen their stiff limbs, and then began inspecting the surroundings. They checked for snake holes or rat nests—if they found any, they would clear them out. They didn’t know how long they would have to stay on the mountain, so while they couldn’t control distant dangers, they could at least eliminate nearby hazards.

Their search turned up two snake holes. Zhao Ertian and Zhao Sandi were both skilled at catching snakes. They broke off sticks and probed deep into the holes.

Old Man Zhao and Zhao Dashan didn’t just stand by and watch. The father and son scouted the area nearby, looking for a hidden spot with tall, dense trees where they could dig a pit for cooking. They had to dig one—while they were worried about smoke giving them away, with Wang Jinyu around and Xiaobao not being home during the escape, it was only thanks to the second daughter-in-law steaming buns beforehand that the family hadn’t gone hungry last night.

Speaking of buns, Old Man Zhao pulled out the two buns Xiaobao had secretly slipped into his arms during the night. He took one out, broke it in half, and gave a piece to his eldest son. He couldn’t help but boast, a smug look on his face: “Your little sister is much more filial than you three brothers. She was worried I’d be hungry, so she secretly stuffed buns into my arms in the middle of the night. Look, they’re even fine-flour buns. You’re lucky to get any.” He absolutely did not mention crying secretly last night.

What could Zhao Dashan say? He could only nod while chewing the bun. “Little sister has always been thoughtful since she was little. I wish I could have a daughter too.”

Old Man Zhao snorted, unimpressed with his son. “You think having a daughter is something you can just decide? I’m this old and only managed to have one. I reckon you three brothers are all unlucky—you don’t have my fate of having a daughter!” He laughed twice, seeing the sour look on his eldest son’s face, which lifted his spirits a little.

They had to find joy in hardship—what else could they do?

Finally, they found a shady spot below the pond. The terrain was low, with a gentle slope above it, and above the slope was a pine forest. It was close to the water source, making it easy to fetch water or put out a fire. Most importantly, it was near the cellar, so they could run back quickly if anything happened.

By the time Madam Wang and the others woke up, Old Man Zhao had already taken his three sons to build a temporary stove. They went to the cellar to scoop out rice and fetch pots, bowls, and ladles. Old Man Zhao said cooking was women’s work, but then he shooed away the boys who were crowding around the stove, leaving only Zhao Xiaobao.

Once the others were gone, Zhu Shi used water scooped from the pond to wash her hands. For cooking, they used water from the stream in the divine land. Their family never drank unboiled water—drinking it could lead to worms in the belly at best, or death at worst. Having grown up in the village, they were all taught by the elders to boil water before drinking.

“Mom, sisters-in-law, have a bun.” Zhao Xiaobao secretly slipped a bun into each of their hands.

Madam Wang didn’t refuse and ate hers in two or three bites. Seeing her mother-in-law eat, Zhu Shi and her two sisters-in-law dared to eat theirs too. The buns the little sister gave them were the fine-flour ones specially made for her. This one was filled with egg and chives, still warm, and tasted incredibly good.

Zhu Shi savored it, smacking her lips a couple of times after finishing. Seeing that her mother-in-law had already started the fire to cook, she didn’t dare slack off. Instead, she went to look for wild vegetables nearby. Later, she would ask the little sister to bring out the basin of wild vegetables from the wooden house’s kitchen. She could mix in half a bowl and pretend they had just prepared it—very convenient.

By the time they finished cooking, Zhao Xiaowu and the others had finished clearing out the nearby snake holes. They had caught several venomous snakes, all with triangular heads. A single bite from one could be fatal. They didn’t dare eat the venomous snakes. After removing the gallbladders, they dug a shallow pit nearby and buried the snakes. They didn’t eat the gallbladders either but placed them in a wooden bowl and, avoiding others, had Xiaobao store them in the wooden house.

Of course, Wang Jinyu didn’t know about this. He hadn’t gone to clear the snake holes. After waking up, he had been sitting by the cliff edge, lost in thought. Ever since entering the mountains yesterday, he had become very quiet. The things that made him Wang Jinyu were fading, and he was becoming more and more like the eldest son of the prefect’s family, He Jinyu.

Madam Wang and Old Man Zhao could only sigh about this, not knowing what to say.

They all knew that Jin Yu’s parents, younger siblings, and sisters had died in the refugee chaos. Even if the refugees who entered the village yesterday weren’t the same ones who had breached the city walls back then, how could the hatred of having one’s family wiped out be resolved with just a few words?

Refugees—anyone associated with that word was an enemy to him.

If they were in his shoes, they might not handle it any better. Old Man Zhao thought that if it were him, he’d probably risk his life to fight those refugees to the death. It was only because the child was young and powerless that he could only brood in silence, feeling helpless in his weakness.

But even knowing this, they couldn’t do anything. Old Man Zhao couldn’t risk the lives of his entire family to avenge people unrelated to him.

Not bothering to carry the pot, the entire family of over a dozen huddled by the pond, each holding a bowl and eating coarse rice. Given the circumstances, it wasn’t convenient to cook every meal. Madam Wang had measured out enough coarse rice for three meals. The side dish was cold-tossed wild vegetables brought from the wooden house. Even though there were no tables or stools, and they had to watch out for leaves blowing into their bowls, everyone ate heartily, feeling full and satisfied.

After breakfast, with the snake and rat nests cleared, the family sat by the cliff edge, enjoying the mountain breeze. They were so idle they could pick their toes, unsure of what to do.

They wanted to go down the mountain to check the situation but worried the refugees hadn’t left yet. They thought about wandering around but were afraid of stumbling upon someone else’s cellar. If that happened, they’d be asked all sorts of questions—where their cellar was dug, if they could help each other out. If it were Er Lai’s family or Aunt Li’s family, it wouldn’t be a problem. But if they were unlucky enough to run into Chūnyá’s grandmother, Li Dashun, or Zhao Youcai, they’d be driven mad.

“Dad, are we just going to sit here like this?” Zhao Ertian was a hardworking man who felt restless if he wasn’t doing something. After sitting for half the morning, he felt itchy all over, shifting his butt on the ground, uncomfortable everywhere. “I wonder how our fields are doing. Sigh.”

Old Man Zhao also sighed. “Sitting around like this really isn’t right. Eldest, second, third—why don’t you go wander in the woods? Set some traps and see if you can catch any pheasants or rabbits. Since we’re idle anyway, just be careful.”

People shouldn’t be idle—idleness leads to overthinking. Keeping busy is better. When the body is tired, the mind has no time to wander, appetite returns, and sleep comes easier.

“Dad, Xiaobao wants to go set traps too.” Upon hearing this, Zhao Xiaobao quickly ran over and tightly hugged her eldest brother’s leg, afraid of being left behind. “I promise to be obedient. I want to catch pheasants for Mom and Dad to eat.”

“Alright, alright. Then Dad will wait to eat the pheasant you catch.” Old Man Zhao said with a smile, not wanting to restrict his daughter. He turned to his eldest son and instructed, “Take good care of your little sister. Don’t go to dangerous places.”

“Understood.” Zhao Dashan nodded. They couldn’t go down the mountain, so they had to head deeper into the woods. It was relatively safe in that direction—at least there were no refugees there. But it could also be unsafe—if they were unlucky, they might encounter wild boars. If they were lucky, they might see deer. Deer were treasures from head to toe: venison was warming and nourishing, deer blood strengthened yang energy, and antlers were medicinal herbs no less valuable than ginseng, fetching extremely high prices.

Zhao Dashan wanted to go to the cellar to fetch an axe. He didn’t feel safe without some kind of weapon. Hearing this, Zhao Xiaobao also clamored to go down.

“Xiaobao, wait up here for your big brother. I’ll grab it and come right back up.” Zhao Dashan said.

“Second brother, carry me.” Zhao Xiaobao turned and stretched her hands toward Zhao Ertian, who was standing nearby. Zhao Ertian couldn’t resist his little sister’s pleading and picked her up without a word.

Zhao Xiaobao was young, and the steep steps into the cellar were dangerous for her to navigate alone. Zhao Dashan had no choice. He went down first, then Zhao Ertian stood outside and handed his little sister down to him.

As soon as her feet touched the ground, Zhao Xiaobao took an empty basket out from the wooden house.

“Why did you come down? It’s dark in the cellar.”

“Xiaobao needs to get something.” Zhao Xiaobao transferred half a basket of the red ground fruit she had picked in the mountains yesterday into it. She turned to her eldest brother and whined, “Big brother, help Xiaobao carry this up.”

Zhao Dashan hadn’t expected her insistence on coming down to the cellar was just to pack red ground fruit. He was surprised. “Just for this?”

Zhao Xiaobao nodded, urging him impatiently. “Big brother, hurry up and help Xiaobao carry it up. We still need to go set traps. Don’t dawdle, big brother.”

Alright, alright, now it was the big brother dawdling. Zhao Dashan told her to put the axe into the wooden house. After a moment’s thought, he also grabbed a machete and another axe—the second and third brothers shouldn’t go empty-handed either. He lifted the basket half-filled with red ground fruit and called up, “Second brother, help me with this.”

Zhao Ertian thought he was asking him to take the little sister, but instead, he was handed a half-basket of wild fruit. He quickly reached out to take it. As soon as he set it down, his little sister was handed up too, and he hurriedly leaned over to catch her.

Madam Wang was sitting on the reed mat mending clothes. Seeing her daughter dragging the basket over, she quickly put down her needle and thread to help. Seeing it was half a basket of red ground fruit, she asked in surprise, “Did you pick these in the mountains with your big brother yesterday?”

“Mhm.” Zhao Xiaobao nodded, scooped several handfuls onto the reed mat, and looked up at her mother with a smile. “Mom, don’t keep mending clothes all the time. Have some of the red ground fruit Xiaobao picked. They’re really sweet. Eating them will make you happy.”

Madam Wang paused, reached out to rub her little head, and nodded with a smile. “Alright, Mom will try the red ground fruit you worked hard to pick later.”

Zhao Xiaobao grinned, showing her little white teeth. She turned to look at her nephew Jinyu, who was sitting by the cliff edge enjoying the breeze. She lifted her skirt and carefully scooped several handfuls of red ground fruit into it. Then she walked over cautiously and called softly, “Jinyu.”

Wang Jinyu turned his head.

“Here.” Zhao Xiaobao shook the skirt holding the wild fruit, her smile revealing two dimples. “Eat some sweet fruit.”

The little girl’s hair and the hem of her skirt fluttered in the mountain breeze. The skirt held a pile of small red fruits, still damp with soil, emitting an enchanting, fresh fragrance.

Wang Jinyu was somewhat dazed. Gazing at her tiny face, the corners of his mouth lifted into a gentle smile. “Mm, thank you, Little Aunt.”

…

Zhao Xiaobao lay nestled in the basket, a red-skinned fruit in her left hand and a raspberry in her right, feeling utterly content.

Her three brothers were equally blissful, each devouring a large steamed bun. After finishing, their mouths still craved flavor, so they asked their little sister for some wild-vegetable pancakes. The filling—seasoned with salt and other spices—was warm and delicious enough to make their mouths water.

When thirsty, they could drink sweet, refreshing stream water anytime. If not for the anguish of knowing their home had been burned down, this life on the run might have been so enjoyable they’d forget to return.

“Big Brother, is it really okay for us to hold a secret feast without the rest of the family?” Zhao Ertian asked between large bites of pancake, feeling slightly guilty—but not overly so. “Dad, Mom, sisters-in-law, the kids… they don’t have anything to eat.”

“Ah, this whole thing… it’s not like we planned it. Who asked for such a doting little sister who spoils her brothers?” Zhao Sandi chuckled happily. He liked folding his pancake before eating it, so one bite stuffed his mouth full of crispy, fragrant layers. As he chewed—oh my—it was simply the ultimate delight.

Zhao Dashan chewed his pancake, too absorbed to even speak—it was just that delicious. He wasn’t truly hungry—he’d just eaten—but when Little Sister pulled out the pancakes, his stomach may not have been hungry, yet his heart certainly was.

Each of them devoured four or five pancakes, stuffing themselves until food nearly choked their throats, before finally stopping.

Zhao Xiaobao showed favoritism to everyone. She secretly gave her mother meat buns, her sisters-in-law egg-and-chive buns, her six nephews wild-vegetable pancakes, and her father fine-wheat steamed buns. Everyone believed *they* were the specially favored one—and all solemnly promised to hide and eat their treats in secret, telling no one else.

She didn’t even tell her three brothers, letting them be moved to tears.

Munching on pancakes and paying little attention to the path, they unknowingly ventured deep into the woods. Towering trees surrounded them; the ground was thick with slippery moss. Little squirrels darted among the branches, and even pheasants appeared—bolder than those outside, likely because few people ever came here, so they held little fear of humans.

“Let’s just explore nearby. We’d better not go any deeper.” Zhao Dashan lifted his little sister from the basket. The reason he’d agreed to bring her to the edge of the deep mountains was precisely because no one was around. Even if danger arose, she could simply vanish into the Immortal Land. Once they escaped, she could reemerge safely…

Zhao Dashan suddenly paused. He’d just remembered something he’d overlooked. Back in the prefectural city, worried refugees might harm Little Sister, he’d suggested she retreat into the Immortal Land and wait there until they returned home. That plan hadn’t worked out then—apparently because they weren’t sure whether Xiaobao could exit the Immortal Land from the same spot she’d entered, fearing that upon returning home, she might still be stranded in the prefectural city.

Ever since they’d returned, they’d been overwhelmed with activity—and he’d actually forgotten this crucial matter.

“Xiaobao, go into the Immortal Land now, count to twenty, then come back out,” Zhao Dashan suddenly instructed.

“Why?” Zhao Xiaobao rubbed her cheek—mosquitoes swarmed here, biting her constantly.

“Just listen to Big Brother. Big Brother wants to test something.” Zhao Dashan felt this matter was vital. Once clarified, even if danger struck in the future, they could send Xiaobao into the Immortal Land for safety. As long as even one of them remained safe, Xiaobao would be safe too.

Of course, all this hinged on whether Xiaobao could “move” with them.

If not, it was all wishful thinking.

Zhao Dashan pointed in one direction for Second Brother, while stepping backward himself—leaving only Third Brother standing still. Zhao Xiaobao watched as Big Brother and Second Brother moved off in two different directions. Anxiety welled up instinctively, and she almost followed. “Big Brother, Second Brother—where are you going?”

“Xiaobao, don’t be afraid. Big Brother wants to test whether you emerge from the Immortal Land at the spot where you entered—or whether you appear wherever we are.” Zhao Dashan did his best to explain, reassuring her not to worry. “Big Brother won’t go far—just over there.” He pointed to a large tree about ten steps away.

Zhao Xiaobao relaxed. She clutched Zhao Sandi’s clothes and pleaded softly, “Third Brother, stay right here—not a single step. Xiaobao’s scared.”

“Good girl. Third Brother won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay right here and watch over you.” Zhao Sandi also sensed the gravity of the matter—understanding it was far better than remaining confused.

Zhao Xiaobao nodded. Glancing at Big Brother, who continued stepping back, she focused her mind. When she opened her eyes again, she stood in the courtyard of the wooden house. Two hens led a flock of fluffy chicks, scratching noisily in the vegetable plot.

Seeing the downy chicks, Zhao Xiaobao’s feet itched to play with them—but remembering Big Brother’s instruction to count to twenty, she immediately covered her eyes like playing hide-and-seek with village children and counted aloud.

“One, two… nineteen…”

“Twenty!”

She opened her eyes—ignoring the chicks entirely—and stepped straight out of the Immortal Land.

Zhao Dashan had retreated to that tree, waited a moment, judged the timing right, held his breath, and stared intently at the spot where his little sister had vanished. In the blink of an eye, a figure materialized in the previously empty space.

Unconvinced, he rushed over, scooped up his little sister, and shook her. Zhao Xiaobao grew dizzy, kicking wildly. “Big Brother, what are you doing, ah?”

“Is it because Third Brother is nearby?” Zhao Dashan quickly set her down, paused to think, then coaxed gently, “Xiaobao, let’s try once more. Don’t be afraid. Third Brother won’t go far either—we’ll just take ten steps. Only ten steps. One last try.”

Zhao Xiaobao pouted, mildly displeased—but seeing how serious Big Brother looked, she still nodded. “Don’t go far. Big Brother, Second Brother, Third Brother—you all must keep watching Xiaobao.” She was still a little frightened. This place was too secluded; having never entered such dense forest before, she felt deeply insecure.

Zhao Sandi stepped forward ten paces. The three brothers formed a triangle around their little sister—a distance ensuring they could react instantly and rush to her side if danger struck.

Zhao Xiaobao entered the Immortal Land again. This time, she didn’t obediently count. Instead, she dashed to the vegetable plot, squatted down, and played with the chicks for a while. Judging roughly twenty seconds had passed, she hurriedly exited the Immortal Land once more.

She emerged exactly where she’d entered.

Zhao Dashan sighed inwardly, fully resigned. He’d been far too presumptuous. How could such a perfect thing exist in this world? Xiaobao and the Immortal Land weren’t portable objects—things you could carry and deploy at will. It seemed they’d still need to exercise caution from now on. Even if the Immortal Land offered temporary refuge, it couldn’t shield them forever.

For instance, if danger struck, Xiaobao could hide inside—but she’d know nothing of the outside world: no sight, no sound. Without allies outside to cover for her, enemies might simply wait right there.

Like last time in the prefectural city—if dozens of refugees broke in, for Xiaobao’s safety, they’d have her retreat into the Immortal Land. But they couldn’t just focus on escaping home. Instead, they’d first need to ensure their own safety—then return to the exact spot where Xiaobao vanished and wait for her to reappear.

Zhao Dashan, whose brain wasn’t particularly sharp, realized this was worse than simply figuring out how to evacuate Xiaobao together from the start.

Sigh.

Seeing Big Brother sigh repeatedly, Zhao Xiaobao reached out and tugged his clothes.

“It’s nothing. Big Brother was just thinking about how to protect Xiaobao’s safety well in the future.” Zhao Dashan lifted her up and pointed at Third Brother. “Xiaobao, take your Third Brother into the Immortal Land.”

“Take me for wha—” Before Zhao Sandi could finish, he tumbled onto the vegetable plot, startling the two hens scratching the soil—wings flapping, loud clucks erupting.

Zhao Ertian carried the basket on his back. Zhao Dashan, holding his little sister, scanned for a suitable spot to set traps—until a foul, pungent stench wafted from somewhere. He halted, looked around, and told his little sister, “Alright—now let your Third Brother out.”

“Okay.” Zhao Xiaobao nodded obediently, waved her tiny hand—and Zhao Sandi was hurled into thin air. The landing spot was off-target: his foot slipped on something slick and greasy. Years of hauling manure honed his intuition—he instantly knew it was a pile of feces!

It reeked—intensely, overwhelmingly, even worse than their family’s latrine!

Zhao Sandi’s expression shifted. He struggled to stand—the footing was treacherous. Worse, the pile was still warm. Wearing straw sandals, his bare feet sank deep into it. Heat seeped through his skin to his core, flooding him with instant despair.

He retched violently from the stench—but kept slipping. After a desperate struggle, he lost balance and collapsed headlong into the dung heap.

He—Zhao Sandi—had been baptized by the excrement of some unknown beast!

“Big… *retch*… Brother… *retch*… let’s… *retch*… run… *retch retch*…” He fought to sit up, trying to cover his mouth—but his palm was coated in filth. Overwhelmed by the stench, his eyes rolled back, his face paled with panic, and he couldn’t utter a single coherent sentence. “*Retch*… There’s a huge wild… *retch*… beast nearby! This pile’s still warm!”

“What? Freshly laid?!” Zhao Dashan recoiled in shock. Seeing Third Brother twist and slip, he nearly reached out—then watched as Third Brother plunged straight into the dung heap. Now he absolutely dared not touch it—it was utterly revolting.

Earlier, he’d assumed it was a stinking ditch or a rotting carcass. Third Brother’s fall revealed the truth. This unknown, fishy, filthy mound was camouflaged beneath fallen leaves and pine needles. Had he taken two more steps forward, *he* would’ve stepped in it.

Zhao Xiaobao covered her nose, dry-heaving, and pointed at Zhao Sandi. “Third Brother… *retch*…”

Zhao Sandi’s face darkened instantly. “What do you mean, Zhao Xiaobao? What do you mean? I haven’t even blamed you for dumping me into a dung heap—and you’re already *disgusted* with your brother??”

After scolding his little sister, he turned on his big brother. “What’s the idea here? Throwing me in without warning? If you wanted to test it, fine—but why use *me* as the test subject?”

Zhao Dashan couldn’t very well say, *Because you were closest.* Staring at Third Brother—now a man of shit—he gave a dry laugh. “Well, we tested it, didn’t we? Wherever Xiaobao is, you are. In the future—ha ha—when you’re tired from walking, just have Xiaobao give you a lift. She can drop you off when you get home. How convenient—ha ha.”

Zhao Sandi was furious enough to die.

The wind howled. Pine needles rustled as they fell. An indescribable silence settled heavily over them.

Zhao Dashan looked at Third Brother. Zhao Sandi looked at Big Brother. Then, simultaneously, they both turned to Zhao Ertian, standing quietly to the side.

Zhao Dashan swallowed hard, his heart pounding wildly as a chill shot down his spine. “Second Brother, did Third Brother say this pile of droppings is still warm?”

“Yeah, that’s what Third Brother said—and I heard it too,” Zhao Ertian replied, scratching his head, bewildered.

“Warm means it was just dropped, right?” Zhao Dashan’s Adam’s apple bobbed frantically. “What the hell could drop such a huge pile at once? Are we in someone’s lair?”

It finally dawned on Zhao Ertian. The area they were in should be the edge of the deep mountains, right? There couldn’t be wild boars here—could there?

Zhao Sandi gritted his teeth, glaring at his suddenly unreliable eldest brother and his perpetually unreliable second brother, and roared, “I already told you to run earlier!”

This was clearly the scat of a large beast. Such a massive pile meant there was a whole group of them—and the droppings being warm meant what? It meant they were nearby!

Zhao Dashan’s face fell, and he scooped up his little sister, ready to run.

But it was too late. Just as they turned to flee, they were horrified to discover two large and one small wild boar emerging from the bushes below. It was unclear how long they’d been there—or perhaps they’d been there all along, unnoticed. They stood motionless, staring, their vicious looks and aggressive vibes practically oozing out.

The boars had short, thick limbs, small heads, prominent snouts, and two large tusks. At full charge, they could send a grown man flying. Their combat ability was utterly incomparable to domestic pigs.

Two large wild boars with a small one—it looked like a family of three.

Had they really accidentally trespassed into the territory of a wild boar family and stepped into their dung pit?

Being stared down by two large wild boars, Zhao Dashan felt his scalp prickle. The boars didn’t move—and neither did they—afraid of provoking a charge that would send the siblings flying.

“What do we do?” Zhao Ertian whispered to his eldest brother. Even Xiao Heizi knew to mark his territory by peeing along the way, and the big yellow dog had to pay its respects before coming to their house. Wild boars were temperamental and aggressive. They had accidentally invaded their den and disturbed their dung pit. Even humans couldn’t stand others digging into their latrines—let alone wild boars. This was no different from shitting on their faces—a blatant provocation.

Wild boars were fierce. They ate everything—even humans. Provoking them wasn’t something reason could resolve.

“Xiaobao.” Zhao Dashan was as tense as a drawn bowstring, his eyes fixed on the boars as he spoke to his little sister in his arms. “Get the axe, the machete, and the hoe out for Big Brother.”

Zhao Xiaobao had never seen a wild boar before and was already terrified by the two ferocious-looking boars glaring at them. Hearing this, she quickly retrieved the axe and machete she had previously stored in the Immortal Land. As soon as she tossed the hoe out, the three wild boars suddenly burst from the bushes, charging directly up the slope at them.

Zhao Ertian and Zhao Sandi grabbed the hoe and machete respectively, while Zhao Dashan picked up the remaining axe. He quickly said to Zhao Xiaobao, “Xiaobao, go to the Immortal Land and stay there for a while. Count to a thousand before coming out!”

Watching the boars charge toward them, Zhao Xiaobao’s eyes widened in terror. A scream tore from the woods into the Immortal Land, startling the boars, two hens, and eighteen chicks into a frantic scramble.

The boar that had already charged right up to them suddenly halted. A living person had vanished into thin air, startling it into a momentary retreat. But upon seeing Zhao Sandi—covered from head to toe in the dung it had just dropped—it flew into a rage. The entire boar charged at him like a mad beast.

Watching the roughly 200-jin boar charge straight at him—especially those two gleaming tusks—he was terrified, plain and simple. Zhao Sandi gripped his machete tightly, stumbling sideways to dodge. There was no helping it—his feet were still covered in dung; hell, he couldn’t even get his footing.

“Third Brother!” Zhao Ertian rushed over and swung the hoe at the boar’s hindquarters. He was strong, and the swing carried a whistling force. The boar chasing Zhao Sandi abruptly turned its head, emitting a few angry, low grunts before charging at him. Zhao Ertian’s hoe missed the boar and nearly struck his own leg. As the boar charged, he couldn’t dodge in time—and its side slammed into his flank. As he was sent flying, he wondered if he was that light. Did the boar just flick him into the air with a light shove?

*Thud.*

He crashed to the ground, the excruciating pain in his side turning Zhao Ertian’s face deathly pale. He struggled a few times but couldn’t get up immediately.

“Second Brother!”

“Second Brother!”

Zhao Dashan and Zhao Sandi cried out simultaneously, wanting to run over and pull him up. But the other boar charged at them. Zhao Dashan roared, the veins on his arm bulging as he gripped the axe. There wasn’t a single coward among the Zhao men. Once provoked, even a wild boar could be killed!

He didn’t dodge. Instead, he charged forward, raising the gleaming axe and bringing it down on the charging boar’s head. “You bastard! Do you really think we brothers are easy to bully?!”

Wild boars feared death too. Seeing the axe descending toward it, it tried to dodge—but Zhao Dashan wouldn’t allow it. He struck its snout with the axe. The boar shrieked in agony, a deafening howl tearing through the air. It struggled frantically, ramming into the human before it. Zhao Dashan’s hands were covered in foul-smelling boar blood. Enraged, he scrambled to his feet after being knocked down, rushed over, pulled the axe embedded in the snout free, and brought it down on the boar’s head again.

This time, the axe lodged itself so deeply he couldn’t pull it out. Zhao Dashan was splattered with blood, dragged along by the pain-maddened boar as it ran wildly. He was knocked down several times, gasping in pain—but one hand clung fiercely to the axe, refusing to let go.

Now it was a battle of endurance—who would fall first!

While Zhao Dashan fought one boar alone, Zhao Sandi faced another—an even fiercer and more aggressive male boar. The firewood knife wasn’t as sharp as an axe, and being covered in wild boar dung only enraged his opponent further. The fight was almost one-sided. If Zhao Sandi hadn’t managed to kick off his straw sandals amidst the chaos—allowing his bare feet to move nimbly around a tree—and if Zhao Ertian, who had finally caught his breath, hadn’t been there to harass and distract the boar, he would have been tossed into the air long ago.

Fortunately, his eldest brother lived up to his reputation. After finally wearing the other sow down to death, Zhao Dashan struggled to pry the axe from the boar’s skull. Without resting, he rushed over to help Zhao Ertian harass the remaining boar. The three brothers took turns—one would sneak in an axe strike when the boar was distracted, another would slash with the machete when it turned. Even the boar’s thick-skinned hindquarters were occasionally scraped, losing layers of skin. The boar flew into a rage, ignoring its injuries, and charged—sending Zhao Dashan and Zhao Ertian flying.

After a series of skirmishes, both sides were injured.

But the Zhao brothers were each exceptionally burly and strong, with fierce temperaments, bold hearts, and an unyielding spirit. They didn’t care about losing eight hundred to injure a thousand—as long as they didn’t die, the one to die would be you.

Thick pine trees were rammed, causing pine needles to rain down like a downpour. The ground was churned up, dirt flying everywhere, and dung was scattered all over. Everyone was covered in filth.

*Boom—*

A loud crash echoed as the thick-skinned giant slammed into the ground, making the earth tremble. The three brothers—either standing or leaning—covered in grime, were completely exhausted. They dropped the axe and machete they could no longer hold. Zhao Dashan plopped down on the ground, his hands trembling violently—not from fear, but from the physical reaction of overexertion.

He glanced at the bushes on the slope below. The little wild boar had long since vanished without a trace.

The mountain wind rustled the fallen leaves, leaving the area in complete disarray. The spots where the two wild boars lay were heavy with the scent of blood. The three brothers gasped for breath, resting briefly as they checked each other’s injuries. Countless bruises—blue and purple—covered their bodies. Zhao Dashan’s elbow had been grazed by a tusk and was bleeding steadily.

“Any internal injuries?” Zhao Dashan asked his two younger brothers—especially the second one. That initial hit had scared him half to death.

“Nah, just external injuries,” Zhao Sandi replied, grimacing in pain. He was a filthy mess—probably so repulsive that if his wife were here, she’d demand a divorce on the spot. Covered in wild boar dung—what a nightmare.

“Nothing serious, just a bit of a twisted waist. I cushioned the fall when I was tossed to the ground,” Zhao Ertian shook his head. For country boys, bumps and bruises were common. They knew to protect their heads first when rolling down a field ridge. His reflexes were quick.

Zhao Dashan nodded. As long as there were no internal injuries, external wounds would heal with time.

After the intense fight, he had no idea how much time had passed. Had it been a thousand yet? Though anxious and worried that the scent of blood might attract other beasts, Zhao Dashan forced himself to stay calm and recover as quickly as possible. He couldn’t help but feel grateful they had tested things earlier. If they hadn’t, with his way of thinking, he might have actually carried the wild boars away. If his little sister came out later and couldn’t find anyone—a child left alone in the mountains—he didn’t dare imagine the consequences.

Once they caught their breath and looked at the two large wild boars on the ground, the three brothers couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hahaha, seriously, what kind of luck is this? It’s not even that far—still on the outskirts. How did we get so lucky to run into wild boars?” Zhao Sandi hissed in pain while grinning foolishly. Wild boars weren’t common at all. Though everyone knew they lived in the mountains, he went into the hills almost daily to gather firewood—and had never once encountered one.

It might also be because, although there had been minor disasters over the years, there hadn’t been any major calamities like droughts so severe that not a drop of water could be found in the woods—forcing starving beasts to descend the mountain. Wanxia Village had its flaws, but the mountains were lush, water and grass abundant, and everything needed was there. Wolves, tigers, and leopards weren’t starving—so they hadn’t come down to harm people.

These two wild boars—the male looked to be around 200 jin, the sow around 160–170 jin. Wild boar meat was gamey, and there was significant waste during processing. The male might yield 140–150 jin of meat, the sow around 120 jin.

Wild boar meat wasn’t as tasty as domestic pork, but human tastes were complex. Some people actually preferred it—whether it was good or bad was a matter of personal opinion. But regardless of preference, this was genuine wild boar meat—nearly 300 jin in total. It was practically like manna from heaven.

Though they were covered in injuries, it was worth it.

Zhao Xiaobao was anxious, scared, and counting very seriously on her fingers until she reached a thousand. She couldn’t wait a moment longer and left the Immortal Land, calling out tearfully, “Big Brother, Second Brother, Third Brother! Xiaobao finished counting—wuwu!”

The moment her feet touched the ground, the sight of the two large wild boars before her choked off her sobs. Her big eyes welled up with tears.

“Xiaobao, quick—put these two wild boars into the Immortal Land. We need to go,” Zhao Dashan said, using a tree branch to lift his removed shirt. He wanted to take off his pants too—but thinking it wouldn’t be appropriate for his little sister to see, he only removed his shirt.

Zhao Ertian and Zhao Sandi did the same—especially Zhao Sandi, whose fingernails were caked with filth. Even while crying, Zhao Xiaobao pinched her nose and kept her distance from Third Brother. She really didn’t want to put the wild boars in the Immortal Land—she was terrified. But seeing her three brothers covered in wounds and filth, she couldn’t bear the thought of them carrying the heavy boars. Swallowing her fear, she closed her eyes, lightly touched the boars, and directly tossed them to the farthest cliff from the wooden cabin—where their father used to sun-dry grain.

Once the boars were stored, they wasted no time. Zhao Dashan placed his little sister in the carrying basket and ran back to the pond as if ghosts were chasing them.

At the spot where they had previously dug up the ginseng, Zhao Xiaobao tossed the wild boars out. Zhao Ertian and Zhao Sandi each hoisted one onto their shoulders. Their earlier disarray had faded, replaced by a swagger as they chewed on wild grass stems, walking with the arrogant gait of crabs. Even the filth covering them seemed like badges of honor for warriors.

Zhao Xiaowu and the other boys were swimming in the pond. Seeing their respective fathers each carrying a wild boar, they were so shocked they nearly choked and sank on the spot. “Dad, Second Uncle, Third Uncle, Little Aunt! Did you go and raid a wild boar den??”