Rebirth in a Courtyard: I Am a Little Hunter

Wei Chen slowly opened his eyes. His tiger-like eyes, reflected in the mirror, shone brightly, carrying an unfamiliar coldness and a sense of oppression. He slightly moved his neck and shoulders, and his newly sculpted, strong body emitted a subtle but satisfying cracking sound from his joints, full of power.

He was already familiar with this image, striving for perfection with each transformation to withstand possible close scrutiny. Once he was certain there were no flaws, he acted swiftly.

He took off his ordinary dark gray clothes and took out a set of clothes that had been prepared in advance from a wooden box next to him—a dark brown coarse cloth short jacket with wear-resistant leather patches on the elbows, and wide-legged cotton trousers of the same color, which were tightly tied with a thick cowhide belt.

The fabric was rough and thick, stained with deliberately applied, difficult-to-wash oil stains and dust marks, perfectly befitting the attire of someone who might engage in manual labor or travel the world. He then donned a pair of heavy-soled, sturdy leather boots, which gave him a steady and powerful gait.

Finally, he picked up a slightly worn navy blue headscarf, and skillfully wrapped it all over his hair in front of the mirror, tying it into a neat knot at the back of his head, revealing only his full forehead, sharp eyes, high nose bridge, and firm lips and chin.

The image of "Iron Tower" in the mirror was finally completed. Robust, brave, and weathered, it carried the fierce aura of a low-level江湖人 (jianghu person, a person from the underworld), bearing no resemblance whatsoever to "Wei Chen".

After doing all this, Wei Chen stood still for a moment, adjusting his breathing and gaze, deeply suppressing all the emotions and traits belonging to "Wei Chen," and completely immersing himself in the role of "Iron Tower." His gaze became more direct, rough, and even carried a hint of wildness and vigilance.

With a thought, he disappeared into the game world.

In the real world, in the cold shadows of that secluded back alley, the air seemed to distort slightly, and the figure that had "disappeared" reappeared. Only now, in terms of shape, appearance, clothing, and temperament, it had completely transformed into another person—the Iron Tower.

As soon as the "Iron Tower" version of Wei Chen appeared, he immediately scanned his surroundings warily. The autumn wind was even more biting than before, whipping dust against his face. The faint sound of a clapper in the distance seemed to have faded further away. Everything seemed normal, and no one noticed the strange change that had briefly occurred in the shadows.

He didn't leave immediately, but listened intently again, using his heightened senses to probe carefully. Only after confirming it was safe did he step out of the shadows.

In stark contrast to Wei Chen's light and agile gait, "Iron Tower's" steps were steady and powerful. His leather boots made a clear but not loud "tap, tap" sound on the bluestone slabs, which did not travel far in the quiet night, but carried a heavy weight.

He was slightly hunched over, his hands habitually clenched in a loose fist, as if ready to respond to any unexpected situation. His sharp eyes scanned every possible hiding place ahead, like a true night stalker walking on the edge of danger.

He no longer took the shortcuts that required using his light-footed skills, but instead chose a relatively hidden but normally walkable route, heading unhurriedly towards the abandoned courtyard hideout he had agreed upon with Tiger. Along the way, he blended perfectly into the late autumn night, like an ordinary night traveler who might be in a hurry, only with an exceptionally robust physique.

The closer one gets to the ruins at the foot of the city wall, the more desolate and dilapidated the surroundings become. The broken walls cast menacing shadows in the moonlight, and the wild grass swayed in the wind like ghostly figures.

Wei Chen was quite familiar with this place, having visited many times over the past year! He skillfully avoided several piles of rubble that might make noise, circled around a puddled depression, and finally, silently approached the abandoned courtyard half-covered by weeds.

Instead of entering directly, he circled the courtyard quickly, almost like a ghost, observing the activity inside and around the courtyard from different angles. This was his habit before each transaction, to ensure safety.

Wei Chen used his mental power to probe the room and found two people inside. One of them seemed somewhat agitated, as there were soft pacing sounds and whispered conversations.

"Brother Tiger, Brother Iron Tower... can you come? It's past midnight." A younger voice asked.

"What's the rush! Brother Iron Tower always keeps his word. If he says tonight, he means tonight." Another slightly hoarse, authoritative voice scolded, it was Tiger, "Turn the wick up a bit, don't look like a coward who hasn't eaten enough!"

Once he was sure it was safe, Wei Chen stood up, brushed off non-existent dust from his hands, and strode steadily through the doorway. His boots rustled softly on the loose weeds and mud in the yard.

He walked straight to the only dilapidated house with a dim, yellow light. He could clearly hear the breathing of the two people inside; it was slightly tense, but there was no sign of malice or ambush.

Reaching the door, he stretched out his broad, calloused hand and pushed open the slightly ajar, creaking, dilapidated wooden door.

A dim, yellowish light shone out, illuminating his robust, towering figure and his resolute face.

Inside, Tiger and his henchman Stone were nervously watching. When they saw that the person was "Iron Tower," the two visibly relaxed, and their faces instantly lit up with warm and respectful smiles.

"Brother Iron Tower!" Tiger spoke first, his voice filled with barely suppressed joy and a hint of relief, "You've finally arrived!"

Wei Chen stood in the doorway, his burly frame almost blocking half the doorway. He nodded slightly, his rough voice echoing in the night:

"Brother Tiger, sorry to keep you waiting."

"Brother Iron Tower!" Tiger stepped forward, clasped his hands in greeting, and smiled broadly, smoothing out the fine wrinkles around his eyes. "I've been waiting for you! Was your journey smooth?" As he spoke, he subtly glanced behind "Iron Tower" to make sure no one was following him.

"Iron Tower" nodded slightly in return, his voice still deep and concise: "Brother Tiger, sorry to keep you waiting. Same place, same rules, it's alright." His gaze passed over Brother Tiger and landed on a pile of objects covered by tattered burlap in the corner of the room.

Tiger, observing the situation, immediately stepped aside and led the way to the corner, laughing, "Brother, I got you what you asked for last time! It took a bit of effort, but it went smoothly." As he spoke, he winked at Stone.

Stone understood, stepped forward, and ripped open the tattered burlap. Underneath was a dark, greasy, and rusty metal object.

The main body is a heavy cast iron base, on which a sturdy screw with spiral patterns is fixed, and next to it are the pressing chamber and the oil outlet, as well as a pile of scattered parts, handles and pulleys.

Although old, the main structure is intact and there is no obvious damage; it just looks rather disheveled due to the passage of time and lack of maintenance.

"A hand-cranked screw oil press," Tiger introduced with a hint of pride. "It's an old piece from the 'Fengyu' oil mill in Nancheng. When we were in the joint venture, the oil mill closed down, and the machine was left to gather dust in the warehouse."

The boss's family was almost starving, so I used a little trick and traded 30 jin of cornmeal and 5 jin of dried sweet potatoes for this. Brother, take a look, is it still usable? I had someone take a quick look; there aren't any major problems, just badly rusted. The gears need fixing, and the belt needs replacing.”

Wei Chen stepped forward, extending his large, fan-like hand to touch and tap here and there, then shook the handle, the screw emitting a rough "creaking" sound. Although he wasn't a mechanical expert, he could still judge the basic structural principles and the extent of the damage.

This machine is bulky and outdated, but its core pressing function should still be intact. After cleaning the rust and replacing the worn parts, it will be more than enough to meet his needs for small-batch oil pressing.

"Okay." He uttered two words succinctly, then turned to Tiger, "The usual?"

Tiger's smile widened. He loved "Iron Tower's" decisive and efficient style. He held up two fingers: "Brother, you're a man of your word! I've pulled a lot of strings to get this machine. As usual, give me two extra pigs! How about it? Two extra, and this oil press will be my gift to you!"

"Okay." Wei Chen nodded without hesitation. He knew Tiger was exaggerating, but this wasn't the time to haggle over such things. This stuff was only worth a couple hundred yuan now; the main problem was how hard it was to get—you couldn't get it without connections. Giving a couple more pigs in exchange for a machine that could solve their real cooking oil problem was a very good deal. Tiger wasn't refusing to pay; he just wanted a couple more pigs!

Tiger felt much relieved, but the smile on his face faded slightly, replaced by a more serious and earnest expression. He waved for Stone to stand guard at the door, then pulled over the only three-legged stool in the room—one leg propped up by a brick—gesturing for Wei Chen to sit down. He himself squatted on a small wooden stool opposite, lowering his voice:

"Brother Iron Tower, now that the machine deal is done, I feel half at ease. However, the main reason I specifically asked to meet with you this time isn't just about that."

He rubbed his hands together, seemingly hesitant to speak, but finally said, "Brother, let's be frank. You know the situation right now. Grain is precious, and meat... is even rarer than gold! The supply lines I used to run have either dried up or are struggling to keep up with demand, resulting in dwindling supplies and declining quality. To be honest, finding even a speck of meat on the market these days is a matter of life and death!"

He glanced at "Iron Tower's" face, and seeing that the other remained calm, continued, "Your fixed supply of two pigs every month is like sending charcoal in snowy weather; it has saved many of my brothers and stabilized my supply line. But..."

He sighed, his face deepening with worry. "Too many monks and not enough porridge! So many mouths are waiting anxiously below, and we also have to take care of those above. Two pigs, divided among them, how much will each person get? It's simply... not enough!"

Tiger leaned forward, lowering his voice even further, his tone full of pleading: "Brother, I know you must be having difficulties too, with a shortage of supplies. But I'm going to swallow my pride and ask you for a favor, to see if you can... spare a little more? Even just one more head a month, no, half a head would be fine! The price is negotiable, I can raise it!" He held up three fingers, looking at "Iron Tower" eagerly.