Rebirth in a Courtyard: I Am a Little Hunter

Wei Chen nodded and, under Jin Aimin's guidance, pointed the gun at the specially set-up gun inspection corner in the warehouse, which was covered with thick sandbags.

He steadily supported the bottom of the handguard with his left hand, and with a "click," pulled back the bolt with his right. The bolt recoiled, revealing the golden-yellow chamber, which was completely empty. He leaned closer to inspect the inside of the chamber, confirming that there was no rust, dirt, or residue, and the rifling was clearly visible.

Then, with a "click," the bolt was snapped shut, the movement crisp and clean. Next, the safety was checked (to ensure it was in the "safe" position), and the front and rear sights were intact and secure. Finally, the barrel was lightly flicked with the finger, producing a crisp metallic twang.

"Reporting to Section Chief Jin! Gun serial number XXXXXX, one Type 56 semi-automatic rifle, clean chamber, intact parts, good condition! Inspection complete!" Wei Chen straightened the gun, muzzle down, and reported loudly.

"Very good!" Jin Aimin was very satisfied. He turned to the old clerk and said, "Sergeant, write down the gun serial numbers. Issue the ammunition."

The old clerk had already prepared three fully loaded, gleaming ten-round stripper clips (stripper clips were a common type of magazine used on the Type 56 semi-automatic rifle at the time, facilitating quick loading). Each clip was carefully wrapped in oiled paper. He handed them to Jin Aimin along with the gun license.

Jin Aimin handed the bullets and gun license to Wei Chen, his expression becoming extremely serious, even carrying the solemnity of a battlefield command: "Comrade Wei Chen! The gun and bullets are now officially in your hands! Keep the gun license safe; it's your only proof of legal possession and use of this gun! Take good care of it!"

He pointed to the clearly printed terms on the gun license and emphasized, word by word: "First, guns and ammunition must be kept separate! Bullets must never be chambered except when on duty or in dangerous situations! When carrying the gun at rest, it must be empty! Bullets must be stored separately! This is an ironclad rule!"

"Second, never point a gun at anyone! At any time! Even when you're checking yourself!"

"Third, upon returning to the factory after the mission, immediately! Remember, immediately! Return the weapons to the armory and complete the return procedures! Report accurately how much ammunition was used and how much remains! Not a single bullet can be missing!"

"Fourth, your firearm is your tool for carrying out your mission, and also your life's guarantee! You must cherish it as you would your eyes! Keep it clean and prevent it from being bumped or rusted! I will inspect it when you return it!"

"Fifth, and most importantly! Absolutely! Absolutely no one is allowed to use this gun for anything unrelated to the mission! Even more so, no one is allowed to use it to cause trouble or show off! If this is discovered, or if the gun malfunctions in your hands, the consequences… You're a smart person; you should understand how serious that is!"

Jin Aimin's gaze was like two awls, firmly fixed on Wei Chen's face, carrying an unquestionable authority and a heavy weight of trust: "Comrade Wei Chen! Can you do what I've said about these regulations?!"

"Reporting, Section Chief Jin! Yes!" Wei Chen stood with his feet together, body taut, his voice resolute like a drawn sword, "I guarantee to strictly abide by firearms management regulations! I will cherish these weapons as I cherish my own life! I will resolutely complete the mission! I will return them on time and in good condition!"

"Okay! I believe you!" Jin Aimin's serious expression softened, and he patted Wei Chen's shoulder again, this time with trust and entrustment. "Go! Be careful on the road! Safety first! Mission second! Team Leader Liu, the entire factory, and thousands of other brothers are waiting for your good news!"

Hehehe… Wei Chen chuckled foolishly, and under Section Chief Jin’s influence, he made going hunting seem like he was going into battle.

Wei Chen carefully placed the three stripper clip bullets wrapped in oil paper into the depths of his satchel. Then, he solemnly put the brand-new gun license, which was printed with a bright red official seal and a clear gun number and was valid for one month, close to his body and then into his spatial backpack, where it was the safest place.

Finally, he carefully slung the heavy, cold, yet powerful Type 56 semi-automatic rifle over his shoulder. The canvas sling digs into his thick cotton-padded coat; its weight conveys both responsibility and confidence.

"Thank you, Section Chief Jin! Thank you, Team Leader Liu!" Wei Chen gave the two a salute that, while not quite standard, was exceptionally sincere.

Jin Aimin and Liu Yuan both returned the salute solemnly. Under the earnest gaze of the two leaders, Wei Chen, carrying his gun, turned and walked out of the solemn and cold armory. The heavy iron door slowly closed behind him, making a dull thud that shut out the strong smell of gun oil and the austere atmosphere.

The heavy iron door of the steel mill's security department closed behind him, isolating him from the chilling atmosphere of the armory, a mixture of rust and gun oil, and temporarily shutting out Deputy Section Chief Jin Aimin's weighty entrustment.

Wei Chen carried the Type 56 semi-automatic rifle, which was tightly wrapped in thick oilcloth. The canvas sling was deeply embedded in the shoulders of his thick cotton-padded coat. The heavy feel of it was like a brand, constantly reminding him of the responsibilities he bore and the perilous journey he was about to embark on.

In the winter of Beijing, the sky was overcast, with leaden-gray clouds hanging low. The biting northwest wind, like countless invisible ice blades, swept across the empty factory area, stirring up dust and fine snowflakes that stung the face.

Wei Chen pushed his old-fashioned bicycle, walking steadily toward the bike shed. With each step, the weight on his shoulders brought a strange sense of solidity, as if this cold, steel companion was continuously infusing his body with some kind of calm and tenacious power.

He unlocked the bicycle chain and carefully strapped the heavy canvas bag—containing only simple luggage and the rifle that could not be lost—to the back seat, securing it tightly with the prepared hemp rope.

After confirming everything was in order, he climbed onto the seat, put his legs on the ground, and the wheels rolled over the frozen ground, making a monotonous but clear "crunch" sound, carrying him and his silent companion away from this steel jungle.

The journey from the steel mill to the courtyard house in Nanluoguxiang was not short. The cold wind blew relentlessly, and Wei Chen wrapped his cotton-padded coat tightly around his neck, hunching over as he pedaled with all his might.

Most pedestrians on the street hurried along, their necks hunched. Occasionally, someone would catch a glimpse of the oddly shaped, long, narrow package wrapped tightly in oilcloth on the back seat, a fleeting hint of surprise crossing their eyes, but they would quickly look away, no one daring to ask a question. In this day and age, some things, even if you see them, you have to pretend you didn't.

When Wei Chen finally turned into the familiar Nanluoguxiang and pushed open the creaking gate of the courtyard house, it was already afternoon. The front yard was fairly clean, but some miscellaneous items were piled up in the corner, making it look somewhat messy.

The old man from Yan Bugui's family was sitting on a small stool in front of their house, mending an old garment in the dim light. Hearing the noise, she looked up, habitually putting on a smile to greet him, but her gaze suddenly fixed on the conspicuous package on the back seat of Wei Chen.

The shape of that package... was so unusual! Long and sturdy, with sharp edges, and a hint of cold, hard metal beneath the oilcloth. As a long-time resident who had lived in the courtyard house for most of her life and had seen a lot of the world, the third aunt's heart skipped a beat, and she almost pricked her finger with the needle in her hand.

"Oh my! Wei... Wei Chen is back?" The third aunt's voice unconsciously rose a few decibels, filled with obvious surprise and a hint of barely perceptible tension. Her eyes were fixed on the package. "What... what's that thing carrying on the back? It looks so... so scary!"

She didn't dare to say the word directly, but several neighbors in the courtyard, including a young woman washing clothes by the tap, all looked over at the sound, their eyes focusing on the oilcloth wrapping. The air instantly became much quieter.

Wei Chen parked the car and, while untying the rope, answered calmly, his voice not loud, but clearly carrying throughout the front yard: "It's a gun issued by the factory. We're going into the mountains tomorrow for a mission, hunting, to get some meat for the factory canteen. It was specially approved by the security department." He mentioned the "gun" casually, but the keywords "specially approved by the security department" and "hunting" carried enough weight.

He untied the ropes and steadily lifted the heavy bundle down with both hands. As he moved, the outline of the oilcloth-wrapped object became even clearer—a slender barrel, a wooden stock, even the faint protrusion of the trigger guard… It was a gun!

"Hunting...hunting? And you're carrying a gun?" The third woman gasped, her eyes widening, her voice trembling.

In this era, for ordinary people to legally own guns is absolutely a symbol of status and an endorsement of powerful strength! The way she looked at Wei Chen changed instantly. Before, it might have been a bit casual and calculating when looking at a junior, but now it was filled with shock and an instinctive awe.

The other neighbors in the courtyard also began to whisper among themselves, their gazes towards Wei Chen filled with complex emotions—curiosity, fear, and, more than anything, a reassessment that "this kid is really something else."

"Yes, it's required for the mission." Wei Chen didn't want to say much, so he gave a brief reply, carried the package, and walked straight through the front yard towards his small courtyard in the middle.

He could clearly feel the probing gazes behind him as if they were solid, especially the particularly cold and resentful one coming from the direction of the Jia family in the west wing of the central courtyard.

A few days ago, because of the aroma of meat wafting from Wei Chen's courtyard and Wei Chen's noticeably healthier complexion, Jia Zhangshi's sharp tongue was never idle.

She dared not make a scene openly, but behind closed doors, the low, yet penetrating curses never ceased—"childless," "self-serving," "heartless," "unfilial," "deserving to die without descendants"... Vicious words, like the forked tongue of a venomous snake, would occasionally burrow into Wei Chen's sensitive mind. Qin Huairu would sometimes try to dissuade him in a low voice, but more often she silently indulged him.

However, at this moment, as Wei Chen carried the oilcloth package that symbolized "special approval from the Security Department" and deadly force, he walked straight through the central courtyard without looking to the side. Behind the window of the Jia family's house in the west wing, covered with old newspapers, Jia Zhangshi's face, twisted with meanness, was pressed against the window crack, peeking out.