The Red Era: Living in Seclusion in a Siheyuan as a Boss

Chapter 714 Escape!!
According to A-Gui's description, the old hunter who was skilled at treating gunshot wounds seemed ordinary, but Zhang Jin knew in his heart that someone who could win such a reputation in this dangerous land was no ordinary person.

This treacherous region, known as the "Kim San Region," suffers from an extreme lack of medical resources.

An old hunter who can become famous for treating gunshot wounds must have hidden survival wisdom and legendary experiences that are hard for ordinary people to imagine.

Zhang Jin said he had carefully studied the relevant materials before setting off.

More than 95% of the area here consists of rolling mountains and towering peaks, with a complex and breathtaking terrain.

Without a local guide, outsiders may not only encounter attacks from venomous snakes and wild beasts, but may also fall into ambushes by various armed groups at any time.

In the 1950s and 60s, a unique "mountain culture" prevailed here.

Often, just twenty or thirty people and seven or eight guns are enough to raise an armed force, occupy several hilltops, and become a kingpin.

In the past, merchants and travelers who wished to pass through safely had to pay a toll as a price.

On Mount Laimeng in the Dangyang area of ​​northern Xinjiang, an astonishing legend once unfolded: a 13-year-old boy managed to gather fifty or sixty people to become outlaws on the mountain.

This young man proclaimed himself "regimental commander," and his henchmen all bore the prestigious titles of "battalion commander" and "company commander."

They made a fortune by collecting various "taxes" or providing "armed escort" services for caravans.

Later, this armed force was absorbed by the big "flour dealer" Luo Xinghan, but the young man not only escaped unscathed, but also successfully eloped with the concubine of a certain leader.

Today, he remains active along the China-Myanmar border, running a highly profitable jade business.

The concubine who eloped back then has now been promoted to his legal wife—after all, the number of his wives and concubines has long since exceeded double digits.

Such a bizarre and outlandish stories could probably only become reality in lawless places like the "Kim Jong-il region".

Although arriving at yet another unfamiliar mountain village would increase the risk of their group being exposed.

However, Zhuang Yan's injuries were urgent, and his life could be in danger at any moment due to infection.

“Alright, let’s listen to Brother Gui and try our luck at that mountain stronghold,” Zhang Jin finally decided.

"Alright, let's hurry up and get going, so as not to delay Brother Monkey's treatment." A-Gui nodded and took the lead in getting up and setting off.

There were 77 people who came out with A-Gui tonight. Including Zhang Jincheng and the other two, there were ten people in total. They took turns carrying Zhuang Yan and quickly moved forward in the mountains and forests.

The night was as dark as ink, and the group of ten people traveled through the dense forest, guided only by the occasional glimmer of moonlight.

Ah Gui walked at the front, his machete occasionally slicing through the vines blocking his path, making a soft rustling sound.

Zhang Jincheng followed closely beside the stretcher, observing Zhuang Yan's condition by the dim light—his face was as pale as paper, his breathing was becoming increasingly weak, and the blood seeping from his wounds had soaked through the makeshift bandages.

Suddenly, A-Gui raised his hand, signaling the group to stop.

A few hoots of owls echoed from afar, their cries particularly jarring in the silent mountain forest.

Ah Gui listened intently for a moment, then whispered, "Ahead lies the 'Ghost's Sorrow' Canyon. After passing it, walk another three miles to reach the old hunter's stronghold. But right now," he pointed to the faint torchlight visible on both sides of the canyon, "it seems someone has set up a roadblock."

One of the young hunters in the group couldn't help but spit out: "It's those 'pangolins' again! They just charged us 'tolls' last month."

Zhang Jincheng squinted and saw five or six figures moving around at the entrance of the canyon. They carried old-fashioned rifles on their backs, and the gourds of wine hanging from their waists glistened in the firelight.

Just as everyone hesitated, Zhuang Yan suddenly coughed violently, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the stretcher.

Another hunter said, "These people only care about money, they are extremely brutal, we must be careful of them."

Ah Gui gritted his teeth: "I can't worry about that now. Same rules as before, I'll go first."

The team regrouped and set off again.

When the torchlight shone on them, a burly man with a fierce face lazily blocked their way.

Ah Gui had no choice but to step forward and whisper a few words in the other person's ear, then stuff a stack of money into the other person's hand.

The man suddenly grinned, revealing his gold-plated front teeth: "You're in luck tonight. Our 'commander' has a new son, so we're letting you pass over for good luck." As he spoke, he even handed over half a gourd of rice wine.

As they passed through the canyon, Zhang Jin noticed that the rock walls on both sides were riddled with bullet holes, some of which still bore traces of dark brown blood.

Ah Gui lowered his voice and explained, "Last month, two groups of people had a fight here, and more than twenty people died."

After passing the "Ghost's Sorrow" pass, the journey became much safer. Zhang Jin said that the ten of them traveled non-stop.

When everyone got tired, they would stop and rest for ten minutes before continuing their journey. They didn't stop all night.

Because Zhuang Yan had a high fever, everyone had to keep using cold water to cool him down.

Finally, just before dawn, wisps of smoke appeared faintly in the dense forest ahead.

A-Gui wiped the sweat from his face and pointed to the bamboo houses that were faintly visible on the mountainside: "We're here. That's the old hunter's village."

As Zhang Jin and his group approached, they discovered that the mountain stronghold was far more hidden than they had imagined.

A dozen or so bamboo houses are scattered on the steep cliff, surrounded by a thorny fence that is two people high.

Two mottled wooden tiger heads stand in front of the village gate, the turquoise inlaid in the tiger's eyes gleaming eerily in the morning light.

"Halt!" A one-eyed old man poked his head out from the watchtower, the hunting rifle in his hand gleaming coldly.

Ah Gui quickly stepped forward and explained his purpose in the local dialect.

After listening, the old man whistled, and the village gate slowly opened.

This was a small mountain village with only a dozen or so households. A-Gui was very familiar with them, and people kept greeting him along the way.

After navigating through the maze-like alleyways, the group arrived at a stilted house with a curtain of herbs hanging from it.

Ah Gui told everyone to put down the stretcher and wait for him, while he went up first to greet the old hunter.

As he climbed the creaking stairs, A-Gui went up to the second floor of the stilted house.

Zhang Jin was busy with others untying the ropes binding Zhuang Yan, because the journey had been too bumpy and they were afraid Zhuang Yan would fall off the stretcher, so they had to tie him up with ropes.

A little while later, A-Gui came down from the stilted house again. He happily said to Zhang Jin, "The old man is home right now, let's carry Brother Monkey up!"

He then said to the others, "Just one person can come up and help, the rest of you should stay here and rest. Don't let so many of you cause trouble for the old man."

Also, we don't know how long we'll be staying here. A few of you go into the woods and cut some timber to build a shelter.

"That's wonderful, Brother A-Gui!" Zhang Jincheng was overjoyed upon hearing this. He and another person immediately lifted Zhuang Yan up, and then A-Gui went up to the second floor of the stilted house again.

The moment the curtain was lifted, a rich aroma of herbs wafted out.

The room was very dirty and messy, with a hearth in the middle and a kettle covered in soot on top.

The room was dimly lit, and a hunched figure could be seen smoking a water pipe and pounding medicine with a crisp, rhythmic sound as the stone mortar and pestle collided.

"Please, old man, save my brother. I'll give you whatever money you want," Zhang Jin said anxiously.

The old man didn't speak, but pointed to a tattered bamboo mat next to the fire pit, indicating that Zhuang Yan should be placed on it.

Then, he continued to puff on his water pipe, and after a few more puffs, he leaned the half-meter-high pipe against the bamboo chair and said slowly, "Show me the wound."

Zhang Jin hurriedly lifted Zhuang Yan's clothes and, with A Gui's help, removed the bandage wrapped around his waist. Immediately, a foul stench emanated from the wound, which was red, swollen, and oozing blood.

The old man glanced at it and couldn't help but frown. He thought for a moment, then called Ah Gui aside and pointed to several bundles of herbs hanging on the wall, saying, "Go to the woods and collect these herbs, preferably from under old tree roots, the fresher the better."

"Understood!" A-Gui nodded, picked up the medicine basket and shovel from the floor, and went outside.

"Clean around his wound," the old man said to Zhang Jincheng, taking a small jar out of a small wooden box.

Zhang Jin said he had seen this thing before; it looked like cupping therapy used in traditional Chinese medicine, but he didn't know what the old man used it for.

The old man tore a piece of paper from a book, then tore it into small strips, lit them over the fire, quickly put the burning paper strips into the cupping jar, and then swiftly placed the jar on Zhuang Yan's wound.

Zhuang Yan trembled uncontrollably. Zhang Jin quickly grabbed his hand and whispered, "Monkey, if you can't hold it in, just shout it out."

Zhuang Yan shook his head slightly without saying a word.

The old man then took a basin from the side and placed it next to the wound. After waiting for two or three minutes, he shook the cupping jar from side to side and then removed it. A large bowl of thick pus and blood flowed out of the jar; the white part was pus and the red part was blood.

Zhang Jin said he finally understood that the old man was removing dirt from the wound. Although this method was primitive, it was very beneficial for healing.

The old man cleaned the cupping jar, wiped the inside clean, lit a piece of paper, stuffed it into the jar, and then placed the jar on Zhuang Yan's wound.

This was repeated five or six times until only bright red blood was being sucked from Zhuang Yan's wound.

A little while later, A-Gui returned, and the old man said to him again, "Wash the herbs clean, then mix them together and mash them."

Then, the old man handed Zhang Jincheng a small stick and said, "Put it in his mouth and make him bite down on the stick."

Although Zhang Jin said he didn't know what the old man was going to do, he still did as he was told, and he made Zhuang Yan bite the wooden stick.

The old man then took a horn-shaped object from the wall, pulled out the cork, and poured some black powder onto Zhuang Yan's wound. Zhang Jin recognized it as gunpowder.

Zhang Jin immediately understood what the old man was trying to do; this was a method of treating wounds that was only used on the brutal battlefield.

The old man used tongs to pick up a piece of red-hot charcoal from the fire pit and suddenly plunged it into Zhuang Yan's wound.

With a loud bang, the gunpowder applied to the wound burst into flames.

Zhuang Yan shuddered violently, then his body convulsed, he made incoherent groans, and then he fainted.

The old man quickly applied the prepared herbs to Zhuang Yan's wound. He breathed a sigh of relief and said to Zhang Jin and the other man, "No need to bandage him. This is fine. If he doesn't have a fever tomorrow, he'll be alright."

But he continued to have a fever, and there was nothing I could do. Now it's up to fate!

Looking at Zhuang Yan's pale face, Zhang Jin felt a mix of emotions.

He gently wiped the cold sweat from Zhuang Yan's forehead, turned around and bowed deeply to the old man: "Thank you for saving my life, sir."

The old man waved his hand, picked up his water pipe again, and sat down by the fire pit: "This young man is quite strong. Only two or three out of ten people can withstand the heat of gunpowder." His cloudy eyes flickered in the smoke. "You're from the north?"

Zhang Jin nodded, about to say something, but the old man seemed exhausted. He waved his hand without speaking, lay back down on the bamboo chair, picked up his water pipe and took two deep drags. Then he said to A Gui, "I found an old Ganoderma lucidum in the mountains a couple of days ago. Go into the forest and catch a pheasant to make soup for him."

Zhang Jin quickly said from the side, "Brother Gui, you should rest, I'll go!"

"Haha, you're better than me at everything else, but you're not as good as me at hunting."

"You stay here and look after the monkey brothers, I'll be back soon." With that, A-Gui grabbed the old hunting rifle and went outside.

Watching A-Gui's retreating figure, Zhang Jin felt a surge of warmth in his heart, truly moved. Suddenly, an idea struck him: "I'll get A-Gui a better bottle in a few days."

As night gradually enveloped the mountain village, the chirping of insects rose and fell outside the stilted houses.

Zhang Jin stayed by Zhuang Yan's side, wiping his burning forehead with a damp cloth from time to time.

The embers in the hearth flickered, illuminating the old man's wrinkled face.

"Coughing up water," Zhuang Yan suddenly let out a weak groan.

Zhang Jin quickly lifted his head and slowly fed him the spring water from the bamboo tube.

Just then, footsteps came from downstairs. Ah Gui pushed open the door and entered, carrying two plump pheasants, his trouser legs still covered in fresh mud.

"Luckily, we found a whole nest." A-Gui grinned, revealing his white teeth.

He skillfully prepared the pheasant, placing the chopped meat and Ganoderma lucidum into a ceramic jar.

The old man took out a few dried mushrooms from the corner and threw them into the pot, and the whole room was immediately filled with a rich aroma.

In the latter half of the night, Zhuang Yan's breathing gradually became steady.

Zhang Jin stayed by Zhuang Yan's side all night, constantly trying to cool him down, never leaving his side, and only managed to doze off at the crack of dawn.

As dawn broke, Zhang Jincheng suddenly woke up and touched Zhuang Yan's head, only to find it was no longer hot.

Zhang Jin felt a surge of joy, but he was still a little worried, so he pressed his face against Zhuang Yan's forehead to test the temperature, and sure enough, it was the same as his own.

He excitedly ran outside, shouting, "Brother Gui, the monkey is ready..."

Upon hearing the noise, A-Gui hurried over from the stilted house next door, carrying a freshly brewed medicinal soup in his hand.

He crouched down to examine Zhuang Yan's wound closely. He saw that the previously red, swollen, and ulcerated area had formed a thin scab, and the surrounding skin had returned to its normal color.

"Grandpa's prescription is really effective!" A relieved smile appeared on A-Gui's dark face. "Moreover, Brother Monkey's complexion has improved a lot. He only drank one bowl of this Ganoderma lucidum and pheasant soup and it has already worked."

At this moment, the old man also strolled over, leaning on his bamboo cane. He reached out and placed his hand on Zhuang Yan's wrist to take his pulse, then opened his eyelids to look at him. He nodded with satisfaction: "The pulse is stable, and the poison has subsided. After resting for another three days, he will be able to get out of bed and walk around."

Zhang Jin was so moved that his eyes welled up with tears. Just as he was about to thank the old man again, the old man waved his hand, indicating that he didn't need to be so polite.

It turned out that the old man had already realized that they were no ordinary people.

Three days later, Zhuang Yan was able to walk slowly while holding onto the bamboo wall.

On the eve of their departure, A-Gui specially hunted a wild boar, and everyone gathered around the fire pit to drink homemade rice wine.

Moonlight streamed through the bamboo window, casting shadows on the ground, while the faint howls of wolves echoed in the distance.

The old man, slightly drunk, patted Zhuang Yan on the shoulder: "Remember, if you have the chance to come again, bring me a bag of tobacco from the north."

"Definitely!" Zhang Jincheng nodded with a smile.

In the past few days, under everyone's careful care, Zhuang Yan has become energetic again.

Zhang Jin said that the ten of them temporarily settled down in this nameless little mountain village.

This small mountain village has only a dozen or so households and about a hundred people. They usually make a living by hunting, and of course, they also grow some sorghum.

These past few days, Zhang Jincheng has been thinking about the solution to the "flour problem in Jinsan area" that he came up with while in the water prison. He asked Agui to take him to visit the homes of the mountain people scattered in various places to learn more about their situation.

Walking along the mountain paths, you can see small plots of land that have been cleared out in the forest, planted entirely with English pine.

White as clouds, red as blood, drifting among the green-covered mountains and forests, it is quite a beautiful sight.

Zhang Jin said it was the first time he had seen such beautiful flowers up close, and that he could smell their sweet fragrance as soon as he walked into the field.

Incredibly, these beautiful flowers are actually "flour," a headache for the entire world.

Beauty and death are difficult to associate in people's minds, but the scene before him forced Zhang Jincheng to equate them.

Just as the word "Hi-Luo-yin" actually means "a heroic new invention".

Bayer, the renowned German pharmaceutical company, could never have imagined that their "heroic new invention" would become the number one killer threatening the world.

Several mountain villagers were tapping sap, and Zhang Jincheng deliberately walked among them to watch them work so that he could see them clearly.

Upon seeing someone approaching, the mountain dweller straightened up, a simple, honest smile spreading across his tired face.

A-Gui greeted him warmly, and Zhang Jin asked them about their income.

The honest mountain people answered the questions truthfully.

The price of flour is fifty times that of gold, yet Zhang Jin said he never imagined that these farmers could not even make ends meet with their annual income.

The money from selling raw materials can only sustain them for half a year; they still need to hunt and dig for wild vegetables for the other half of the time.

As the two walked out of Yingsutian, Agui said to Zhang Jin, "Harvesting raw pulp is a very hard and tiring job. After a day of work, your back will hurt so much that you can't straighten up."

These mountain people all suffer from back problems, but they have no choice but to endure it due to the hardships of life.

"If there are other crops with higher planting value than those grown in England and Scotland, will they switch to planting them?" Zhang Jin suddenly raised a question he had been pondering for many days.

"Of course it is, but the environment and climate here make it difficult to grow other things."

Another point is that they simply don't have the ability to modify other crops.

The people who collect the materials will pay them in advance to grow the sorghum, and then come to collect the raw materials; other crops can't do this.

(End of this chapter)