Reborn in 1982, the prodigal son returns

The second day of the Lunar New Year, in the afternoon.

The two men carried sacks and walked towards the back of the mountain.

There was no one on the mountain path. The snow was thick and even, with only occasional footprints—those of rabbits, pheasants, and a fox. The footprints were thin and widely spaced, disappearing into the woods from the roadside.

Lin Nuo looked at the footprints and thought that if he could catch a fox, he would make a lot of money.

However, the main target at present is pheasants.

Qi Dawu knew the mountain paths like the back of his hand; he could navigate them with his eyes closed. He led Lin Nuo through two pine forests, over a ridge, and stopped in front of a thicket of bushes. He squatted down, pointed to the footprints on the ground, and said:

"Brother Nuozi, look."

There was a string of fresh pheasant footprints on the snow. Three toes pointed forward and one toe backward, the distance between them not far apart. They walked and stopped intermittently, as if they were foraging for food as they went. The footprints extended from the bushes, circled around a large rock for most of the way, and then disappeared under a thicket of thorns.

There were a few fallen feathers next to the footprints, grayish-brown in color, which stood out against the snow.

Lin Nuo squatted down, put the sack aside, took out a few covers from it, and began to choose a location.

Pheasants follow fixed routes when foraging in winter. You can see footprints in the snow; follow the footprints and set traps in the areas they frequent.

Lin Nuo chose a patch of bushes, between which was a narrow passage through which pheasants walked. Snow clung to the branches on both sides of the passage, like a doorway.

He adjusted the slipknot, squatted down, cleared away the snow, and secured the snare to the roots of two bushes, with the snare opening facing the direction the pheasant came from, just a fist's height off the ground.

After securing the snare, he covered the wire with branches and snow, leaving only the opening exposed. He then scattered a few kernels of corn, which he had brought from home—corn that Zhao Xiuying had dried to feed the chickens. He grabbed a small handful and put it in his pocket.

In winter, food is scarce, and pheasants can't stand the cold, so any food they find will attract them.

Qi Dawu squatted down beside him and watched intently.

"Come here."

Lin Nuo said.

Qi Dawu took the wire and squatted down. The wire twirled in his hand, not quite obeying him, probably because it was too cold; his hands hurt as soon as they were exposed.

Lin Nuo didn't curse. He squatted down, took the wire from Qi Dawu's hand, removed the slipknot, and twisted it again.

"Watch closely, go around like this, through the middle, and pull."

He handed the screw-on cap back to him:

"Again."

Qi Dawu tried again. This time he screwed the slipknot on correctly, but the opening was too small, and the pheasant couldn't get in. Lin Nuo helped him adjust it, and the third time it finally passed.

"Okay," Lin Nuo said.

Qi Dawu grinned, secured the snare to the roots of the bush, and covered it with snow. He worked carefully, layering snow on top of snow until it was completely invisible. He then scattered a few kernels of corn in front of the snare opening; the golden corn kernels, settling on the snow, stood out vividly against the white background.

The two men set traps along the way, then got up and walked deeper into the woods, where they bumped into two more people.

Wang Lao Er and Li San. Wang Lao Er was wearing a drab cotton-padded jacket, the front of which was covered with holes burned by cigarette ash. He had a dog-skin hat on his head, the ear flaps of which were drooping and flapping.

Li San followed behind, his neck hunched, his hands tucked into his sleeves, and a bundle of hemp rope tucked under his armpits.

When Wang Lao Er saw Lin Nuo, his face stiffened. He slowed down, hesitated for a moment, and then walked over, forcing a smile.

"Is Nuozi setting a trap too?"

His voice sounded unnatural.

Lin Nuo hummed in agreement, but didn't say anything more.

Wang Lao Er's gaze swept over Lin Nuo and Qi Da Wu.

Li San stood behind Wang Lao Er and tugged at Wang Lao Er's sleeve.

Wang Lao Er didn't say anything more, carried the sack around Lin Nuo, and walked towards the fork in the road. His gaze lingered on Lin Nuo for a moment, then he turned back and quickened his pace.

Qi Dawu watched their retreating figures and asked:

"Are they here to set a trap too?"

"Um."

"If they go that way, should we go this way?"

Lin Nuo glanced in the direction Wang Lao Er and the others had gone—westward, towards a mixed forest with plenty of pheasants. He turned his gaze back and pointed eastward:

"This way."

Qi Dawu noticed that Lin Nuo's subsequent choice of trap locations all avoided the direction Wang Lao Er and his group had taken.

It's the Lunar New Year, so let's avoid any conflict.

The two walked east for a while, and Lin Nuo stopped on a sunny slope. The slope faced south, and the sunlight shone on the snow, making it dazzlingly white.

Some of the snow on the slope has melted, revealing patches of withered grass. Underneath the grass roots are insects and grass seeds, making it a good place for pheasants to forage in winter.

There was a string of fresh pheasant footprints on the snow, larger and more spaced than any I had seen before, indicating it belonged to a large rooster pheasant. The footprints stretched from the top of the slope to the bottom.

"Two at the top of the slope, and two at the bottom," Lin Nuo said.

Qi Dawu squatted down, took out a snare from the sack, and started working. His hands were frozen red and a little clumsy. The snare at the bottom of the slope was placed in a crevice between the rocks, a narrow crevice that the pheasants had to pass through.

Lin Nuo squatted down beside him and watched without saying a word.

However, Qi Dawu is indeed becoming more and more clever. We need to get him married as soon as possible to stop his elder brother from having him marry into the family.

Just as the snare was set, a loud "thump" sound came from the bottom of the slope.

No, Youhuo was surprised.

The snowflakes drifted down like someone had sprinkled flour into the sky. A pheasant flew up from its snowdrift, its wings flapping loudly, its feathers shimmering green in the sunlight.

Qi Dawu reacted faster than he thought. Before he could even think, his body had already lunged forward. He leaped forward, stretching out both hands to grab the pheasant.

The pheasant flapped its wings in his hand, making a loud slapping sound and splattering snowflakes all over his face. Its claws kicked at the back of his hand, kicking sharply and fiercely, like several small knives.

He winced in pain, his mouth twisted to one side, his eyes narrowed to slits, but he refused to let go. His fingers gripped the base of the pheasant's wing until his knuckles turned white, the pheasant's wing twisting in his hand, squeaking sharply and loudly.

Lin Nuo rushed over, grabbed the pheasant by the base of its wing with one hand, and held its two legs with the other. The pheasant fluttered a couple more times in his hands, then, realizing it couldn't break free, slowly calmed down.

The two men squatted in the snow, panting heavily. Qi Dawu's chest heaved as he looked at the pheasant in his hand, his eyes shining brightly.

The pheasant weighed three or four pounds, male, with glossy feathers and a tuft of crest feathers on its head, sticking up like a small hat. It had a bright white ring around its neck. Its claws were yellowish, with sharp nails that gleamed in the sunlight. It was very energetic.

Several bloody marks were left on the back of Qi Dawu's hand from being kicked, with beads of blood slowly seeping out and congealing into small granules in the cold air. He didn't feel any pain; instead, he grinned.

"Brother Nuozi, we've got him!"

His voice sounded very happy.

Lin Nuo stuffed the pheasant into the burlap sack, tied the opening tightly, and the pheasant fluttered around inside for a couple of moments before becoming still. He patted Qi Dawu on the shoulder and praised him:

"Well done, Da Wu, you're faster than a pheasant."

Qi Dawu scratched his head sheepishly, unable to suppress the smile on his lips.

The two continued walking and removed the remaining pheasant snares. There was already a pheasant in the sack, heavy and swaying on his shoulder. Qi Dawu would occasionally touch the sack to make sure the pheasant was still there, then pull his hand back into his sleeve.

Lin Nuo looked at the sky; the sun was already setting.

The two turned around and walked back.

As they passed a pine forest, Qi Dawu suddenly stopped.

"Brother Nuozi, is someone there?"

He pointed into the distance, his voice lowered, as if afraid of disturbing something.

Lin Nuo looked in the direction he was pointing. Deep in the woods, a figure crouched motionless under a tree root.

The two walked about ten steps away before they could see that he was a man in his fifties, wearing a tattered cotton-padded jacket with several patches on it.

Beside him lay a bamboo basket, woven from bamboo and worn for many years; the bamboo strips had turned black, and there was a hole in the bottom, patched with hemp rope. Inside the basket were what appeared to be medicinal herbs.

Sensing someone approaching, the man looked up, his face purple from the cold, the tip of his nose glowing red. His eyes were wary, his pupils contracted, and his lips tightened.

Qi Dawu recognized him and whispered:

"Isn't this Old Stubborn Sun from Sunjiagou?"

Lin Nuo's heart skipped a beat. Old Man Sun? Sun Desheng's father? Wait, weren't Sun Desheng's parents dead? He glanced at Qi Dawu, who understood and explained in a low voice:

"Old Stubborn Sun is Sun Desheng's second uncle. After Sun Desheng's parents passed away, only his second uncle took care of him. This old man is stubborn, and everyone in the village calls him Old Stubborn Sun. Once he's made up his mind, nothing can change it. He'll get angry with anyone who tries to talk him down."

Lin Nuo's gaze fell on the man. The man didn't reply, but stood up, picked up his bamboo basket, and left.

Qi Dawu whispered:

"He used to be a soldier, and he injured his leg while in the army. After he was discharged, his temper changed. He didn't like to talk to people and lived alone in a dilapidated house at the foot of the mountain."

Lin Nuo watched the figure disappear into the pine forest, lost in thought.

Sun Desheng also has a second uncle, which makes things more complicated.

The two men carried sacks down the mountain.

On the way, Qi Dawu asked, "Brother Nuozi, what exactly do you want with Sun Desheng?"

"That's good," Lin Nuo said. "It'll allow him to get married."

Qi Dawu was taken aback. He slowed his pace, then caught up. Although he wanted to know, Lin Nuo didn't say, and he didn't ask for details.

By the time we reached the village entrance, it was already getting dark.

Qi Dawu put the sack off his shoulder and handed it to Lin Nuo:

"Brother Nuozi, take the pheasant back. Your family is large, and you don't have enough to eat."

Lin Nuo didn't take it. He pushed the sack back, and as he did so, his hand pressed down on Qi Dawu's hand, and their hands touched at the mouth of the sack.

"Everyone who sees it gets a share. We'll sell it in town tomorrow, and each person gets half."

Qi Dawu opened his mouth, and his lips moved several times.

"……Why."

He carried the sack home. After a few steps, he turned back and stood in the twilight, his cotton-padded coat clinging to his body in the wind, making him look even thinner.

Lin Nuo stood at the village entrance, watching Qi Dawu's figure disappear.

I'll go see Sun Desheng tomorrow. Qi Dawu said his second uncle is stubborn; once he's made up his mind, nothing can change it. To get past Old Man Sun's stubbornness, I need to think carefully about how to talk to him.

We can't force him; we have to go along with his temper. Sun Desheng is in his early thirties and still hasn't gotten married. His second uncle may not say it, but he's definitely anxious. As long as we get to the point, he might agree.

Lin Nuo turned and walked home. Pushing open the courtyard gate, the kitchen light was still on, its yellowish glow seeping through the paper windows and casting a blurry light across the yard.

Zhao Xiuying left a bowl of rice in the kitchen. Lin Nuo lifted the lid of the pot, drank a bowl of sweet potato porridge, ate a few pieces of vegetables, and that was enough to tide him over.

The light was off in my mother's room; she must have gone to my uncle's house to talk.

He stood in the yard and saw that the lights were on in the windows of his house.

He couldn't help but smirk.

The door was pushed open. Su Wanqing sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), holding the calligraphy book in her hand. The kerosene lamp sat on the table; the flame flickered briefly before settling down.

She looked up at him—her gaze lingered for a moment on the snow on his shoulders and the mud on his hands.

She lowered her head and continued flipping through the calligraphy practice book.

Lin Nuo watched her carefully flipping through the calligraphy copybook and remembered that in her previous life, the village planned to build a primary school, otherwise every child would have to go to school in the neighboring village.

With such a high level of education, Su Wanqing was certainly a suitable candidate to be a teacher. However, at that time, the Lin family had already encountered trouble, and being a teacher wouldn't pay much money.

Su Wanqing didn't go either. Instead, she went south with Lin Nuo to work. Actually, she was willing to teach children, including teaching Anzi to read. Su Wanqing was very serious about it.

She was willing to be a teacher, in this lifetime. He talked to the village chief and his uncle about her becoming a primary school teacher, as a surprise for Su Wanqing.

"Tomorrow," he said, "I'm going to Sunjiagou."

Su Wanqing paused, her fingers pressing on the pages of the calligraphy book, unable to turn the page.

"Find someone." Lin Nuo didn't say more.

Su Wanqing didn't ask any further questions. She lifted her finger from the paper, traced the edge of the calligraphy copybook, then closed it and placed it beside her pillow.

Lin Nuo took off her cotton-padded coat and hung it behind the door. The coat was wet on the shoulders, and water dripped from it as it hung behind the door, dripping onto the ground, drop, drop, drop, drop.

He sat down on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed). The kang was warm, and it was cozy to sit on.

Seeing that Lin Nuo wanted to sleep, Su Wanqing helped him blow out the kerosene lamp.

The flame on the wick shrank to a ball of blue light, flickered twice, and went out. A wisp of smoke rose from the lamp opening, carrying the smell of kerosene, and dissipated in the darkness.

Lin Nuo lay in bed, as if she could hear the heartbeat of her beloved beside her, and smiled.

Without hesitation, he reached out and took Su Wanqing's hand.

Su Wanqing froze for a moment, while Lin Nuo's lips curled up slightly. Su Wanqing had looked just like that when they were an old married couple in their past life.

She didn't dodge.

He tightened his grip on her, pulling her closer to him.

Su Wanqing's personality is such that she won't take the initiative, but he can. He needs to make Su Wanqing adapt. He bullied her too much in his past life, and at most, Su Wanqing will just ignore him.

Hey.

Su Wanqing didn't move. She tilted her head back slightly, the back of her head resting against his chin, her hair brushing against his face, tickling him and carrying a faint scent of soap.

Lin Nuo did not move again.

He just held her while he slept.

In the darkness, her breathing grew softer and slower; she had fallen asleep.

Lin Nuo also closed his eyes.

I'm going to Sunjiagou tomorrow. To find Sun Desheng. To get past Old Man Sun's stubbornness.