Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

Once the two hundred yuan was actually in his hand, the old man seemed to finally feel relieved, and the wrinkles on his face immediately smoothed out.

He stopped dawdling, deftly tucked his pipe behind his waist, jumped off the cart, kicked aside several sacks of rotten sweet potatoes on the cart, and then tore open a large bundle of wet corn husks, making room in the middle for someone to lie down.

"Come on, boss!"

"What are you waiting for? If you dawdle any longer and really hurt your arm, it won't be my fault."

Sun Changyou was in so much pain that he didn't even have the strength to argue with him. He tilted his head towards the driver and the others.

"Lift...get the hell up there right now!"

Several people quickly surrounded him, one supporting his shoulders, another his waist, and the remaining two hugged Sun Changyou's thick legs, shouting as they helped him lift his 200-pound body onto the cart.

"Slow down...slow down! Hands! Don't touch my hands—!"

Sun Changyou howled the whole way, and after being harassed by several people to get on the bus, as soon as his buttocks touched the ground, a sour, foul stench mixed with cow dung and urine exploded in his head, blowing into his mouth and nose with the cold northwest wind.

Sun Changyou's stomach churned from the stench, and just as he turned his head to the side, he vomited a mouthful of sour water out of the car floor with a "goo".

The men who were busy helping him up suddenly turned pale as the strange, sour and pungent smell wafted over on the wind.

The young man was closest to the car platform. He had just sniffed twice when his stomach churned. He quickly covered his mouth and took half a step back.

"Holy crap... what's that smell?!"

His face was contorted, tears welling up in his eyes, as he pointed to the bags of soggy, rotten sweet potatoes on the cart floor:

"Grandpa, are you hauling pig feed or manure? It looks like you've been rotting in a cesspool for half a month!"

The old man who was driving the cart had just climbed back onto the shaft when he heard this. Instead of getting angry, he leisurely crossed his legs, put his pipe back in his mouth, and started puffing away.

Only after he had satisfied his craving for cigarettes did the old man squint his eyes and slowly exhale the last puff of white smoke.

"It stinks!"

"That's to be expected! This wasn't originally a large van for carrying people; it was for transporting pig feed, rotten sweet potatoes, and manure residue for composting for the commune. How could it not stink?"

The old man squinted at the young man with his wrinkled eyes, slowly exhaling white smoke.

"If you really think it's dirty, that's easy to fix."

"We still have two corn-hauling carts in our village, all cleaned up. I'll turn back right now and get you one, and put an old mattress on it, and I guarantee there won't be any pig manure smell at all."

The young man's eyes lit up upon hearing this:

"real?"

"Why would I lie to you?"

The old man nodded earnestly, slowly calculating with his fingers, which resembled withered tree bark:

"Our village is about seven or eight li away from here. It takes about an hour for the old ox to walk back. Once we get to the village, we'll have to find a cart, harness the animals, and then come back to pick you up... It'll take at least three or four hours round trip."

"If that mule is stubborn today and refuses to be harnessed, we might be delayed even more—"

"Change your mother's head!"

Sun Changyou, who was on the platform, almost fainted from anger halfway through hearing this.

Three or four hours?!

If this old man were to wander back to the village and come back in a clean cart, his right arm would probably be pickled to perfection!

"Go back to the village my ass! Change the car my ass!"

Ignoring the acid churning in his stomach, Sun Changyou pressed hard on his swollen, blackened wrist, his eyes bloodshot as he cursed at the young man under the cart:

"Shut the hell up! Do you think you're so great just because you have a nose?! If you dare utter another word, I'll skin you alive when we get back!"

The young man and another young man were scolded mercilessly, and they shrank back in fear. Even though their stomachs were churning with nausea, they could only grit their teeth and, covered in dust, scramble up onto the broken oxcart, obediently squeezing next to the rotten sweet potato sacks that were dripping with sour water.

Only the driver slipped and took a half step back. His eyes darted around to the Beijing Jeep stuck in the mud at the entrance of Wulipu, and he quickly made an excuse with a forced smile:

"Brother Sun...look, that jeep is still lying in the middle of the road. There's still public funds used for purchasing goods and large items under the seats. In this desolate place, if no one watches over it, someone will probably take all the wheels off before dawn! How about...I stay here and guard the jeep, and find a passing tractor to help pull it out?"

Sun Changyou was taken aback.

That's really hard to fault.

Although that jeep broke down, it was still his precious possession, acquired at a high price. If he left it in the middle of nowhere for a few hours, who knows what might happen?

"Then you stay!"

Sun Changyou was in so much pain that he couldn't think straight, and he cursed irritably:

"You better watch the car! If even a single screw is missing, I'll hold you responsible!"

"Why!"

The driver agreed with unusually quickness.

He stood by the roadside, watching as a group of young people pinched their noses and squeezed together among a pile of pig feed and rotten sweet potatoes. He almost couldn't suppress his laughter and quickly lowered his head to pretend to check his shoelaces.

The old man driving the cart was even happier.

"One less is better, one less is better!"

"My old buddy is getting old, so if I pull a little less weight, my legs will be a bit lighter."

Sun Changyou's temples throbbed, and he no longer had the strength to curse him; he simply closed his eyes.

"Walk!"

"Get the hell out of here!"

Seeing that Sun Changyou was urging him on, the old driver grinned, his large, withered hand giving the reins a sharp jerk, and shouted:

"Giddy up!"

"Moo—"

The old, emaciated ox flicked its thick tail, which was covered in dried cow dung, and a plume of hot white steam billowed from its two large nostrils. Its four heavy hooves slowly left tracks on the frozen road.

The large wooden wheel was bound with cast iron, and as soon as it turned, it made a dry, grating grinding sound.

The entire broken cart suddenly lurched forward!

"Holy crap—!!"

The sudden jolt of the cart floor caused Sun Changyou's right wrist, which was swollen like a purple eggplant and hanging in mid-air, to slam solidly into the cold, hard side of the cart!

The excruciating pain felt like a red-hot branding iron, piercing straight into his bone marrow. Sun Changyou's fat face instantly turned ashen white, the veins on his forehead bulging like earthworms. He screamed in pain, his voice cracking, and his bulky body arched like a boiled shrimp.

"Slow down! You fucking slow down!!"

The young man, his backside aching from the jolting, slipped and crushed half a rotten sweet potato, splashing its foul, dark yellow sap all over his trousers. Ignoring his disgust, he quickly grabbed Sun Changyou's thick waist and yelled at the front of the cart:

"Old man! Watch your step! Can't you see the seriously ill patient lying in the back?!"

The old man sat on the cart shaft, his body swaying with the ox's steps, too lazy to even lift his eyelids, exhaling a string of pungent smoke rings.

"Brother, my old ox travels on the main road, and the potholes are public ones, so I can't choose which ones to use. Think it's bumpy? Then put four springs on my cart."

"You—" The young man was so angry that his back teeth were grinding together, but Sun Changyou grabbed his arm with his intact left hand.

Sun Changyou was in so much pain that his whole body was convulsing, large beads of cold sweat mixed with the yellow mud on his face were streaming down, and his eyes were filled with scarlet blood vessels.

He gritted his teeth, biting his lips until they bled, and forced back the saliva he was about to swear, forcing out two words through gritted teeth:

"Shut...shut up..."

Sun Changyou, who deals in large-scale freight in the south, always travels in soft sleeper trains and hires private cars. He is fawned over by people who call him "Boss Sun" in front of everyone.

Today at the repair shop, that brat Zhao Shanhe, who appeared out of nowhere, snapped my wrist in one move and threw me into a muddy ditch; now this old coffin maker is tossing me around like a dead pig on a pile of rotten sweet potatoes oozing sour, foul-smelling manure!

All the humiliations I've ever suffered in my life have been experienced in a single day!

"Zhao Shanhe..."

Sun Changyou buried his head in the pile of moldy, rancid corn husks, his eyes watering from the sour smell, but the violent fire in his chest burned ever brighter, almost setting his internal organs ablaze.

"Fuck your ancestor Zhao Shanhe..."

"Once I reattach my hand... I'll skin you alive, tear you bastard to pieces, or I'm not a Sun!!"

The northwest wind howled across the barren fields, and the cold wind at the wind gaps felt like a small scraper, drilling straight into the collar of the cotton-padded coat.

The large cast iron and wooden wheels bounced violently in the frozen loess ruts, one after another. The old man on the shaft hummed a tuneless Errenzhuan (a type of folk opera) slowly, while Sun Changyou on the platform let out a heavy, muffled groan like a dying beast with each violent tremor.

They endured the journey along this 20-plus-mile stretch of frozen road from just past noon until the sun was beginning to set.

The setting sun on the horizon was gradually swallowed by a lifeless, leaden gray, and the biting wind froze the expensive woolen overcoat into a hard, solid shell, clinging tightly to Sun Changyou's trembling, fleshy body.

After bouncing around for an unknown amount of time, the old man suddenly tugged on the reins and called out softly:

"Whoa—"

The old ox stopped when its hooves touched the smooth gravel road.

The old man tapped his pipe on the sole of his shoe and shouted behind him:

"We've arrived! At the entrance of the county hospital!"