Rebirth in a Courtyard: I Am a Little Hunter

Yan Bugui returned home, sat under the dim light, and took out a small notebook, scribbling and drawing in it with a pencil. He noted down Wei Chen's reply and marked a few key points. Auntie San leaned over to glance at it and whispered, "The one in the east courtyard, did he agree?"

"He agreed." Yan Bugui didn't even look up. "He was decisive, without the slightest hesitation. This kid is a sensible man."

The three women were somewhat surprised: "I thought he would refuse. Didn't he say he had connections and influence in the factory? Why would he need to take such a risk with us?"

Yan Bugui put down his pen and glanced at her: "What do you know? It's precisely at times like these that you need to fit in. If he goes against the grain, it will make it seem like he's the only one who doesn't have to worry about food and drink, and that will only make people envious. The fact that he agreed so readily actually shows that he's smart."

He paused, then added, "But then again, the fact that he agreed so readily put my mind at ease. Having a hunter like him in the team is a great help if anything happens."

The three women nodded, seemingly understanding, and asked no further questions. Yan Bugui blew out the kerosene lamp, plunging the room into darkness. In the darkness, he was still pondering how to talk to Yi Zhonghai tomorrow and what the next steps should be.

Over the next few days, the three elderly men split up and cautiously conducted their own investigations in their respective areas. They dared not hold public meetings or knock on doors one by one. Instead, they took advantage of opportunities such as washing up in the morning and evening, meeting each other on their way to and from get off work, or occasionally bumping into each other in the courtyard to probe and convey their findings in a few words.

The method was very subtle—they would first chat about the weather and food, then lower their voices and ask, "There are connections in the south of the city tonight. Do you want to get involved?" If the other person understood, they would show a knowing look, nod, and then arrange a time to discuss it in detail. If the other person looked confused or wary, they would immediately change the subject and not say anything more.

Yi Zhonghai was in charge of the Intermediate People's Court. His first contact was with Sha Zhu. Although Sha Zhu had a bad temper, he was honest, loyal, and courageous. When Yi Zhonghai explained the plan, Sha Zhu almost immediately slapped his thigh and exclaimed, "Uncle, this is a life-saving method! I'll go with you! My family is starving, and we're at our wits' end!"

He lowered his voice, "Don't worry, I won't say a word about this. If anyone dares to leak the news, I, Sha Zhu, will be the first to punish them!" Yi Zhonghai nodded in satisfaction and then gave a few more instructions such as "be careful" and "don't be impulsive."

On Xu Damao's side, Yi Zhonghai changed his story. He knew Xu Damao was timid and shrewd, but he also knew that Xu Damao was afraid of death and would seize any chance of survival.

Sure enough, when Yi Zhonghai vaguely mentioned "there's a way to get some grain, but it's risky," Xu Damao immediately leaned over, his eyes darting around: "Uncle, you have a way? Really? Don't worry, I, Xu Damao, am very tight-lipped! As long as we can get food, what's a risk!"

He spoke with conviction, but Yi Zhonghai still saw a hint of hesitation and fear in his flickering eyes. Yi Zhonghai didn't say anything, but simply patted him on the shoulder: "Alright, as long as you understand. Just wait for further instructions."

In the backyard, Liu Haizhong approached one or two other households. After a few days, the three of them had basically completed their preliminary investigation. About seven or eight households were willing to participate. Including Wei Chen, they had gathered a total of about ten people. This had exceeded their expectations. One evening, Yi Zhonghai called Liu Haizhong and Yan Bugui to his house, closed the door, and began to summarize the situation.

"The Intermediate Court, Sha Zhu's family, Dong Xu's family, and Lao Zhao's family—all three are willing to go," Yi Zhonghai said, counting on his fingers.

Liu Haizhong nodded: "In the backyard, the deaf old lady's family is one, my family is another, and Old Sun's family is also willing to get involved. That makes three families in total."

"The old lady is on my side," Yi Zhonghai said. "He already had a plan in mind, and in the past year he has been making sure his daughter-in-law is close to the old lady."

Yan Bugui pushed up his glasses: "In the front yard, my family counts as one, and Old Li's family counts as one. Wei Chen in the east wing also agreed. That makes a total of three families."

Yi Zhonghai mentally calculated: "That's... nine families. Adding the three of us, that makes twelve families in total. It's not a small number, but more people means more safety, especially since there have been quite a few robberies lately."

"Alright, it's settled then." Yi Zhonghai finally made the decision. "I'll go find my cousin first and see how things work out at the Ghost Market. Once I've figured it out, we'll set the date for the first meeting. Old Liu, Old Yan, you two keep a close eye on everyone these next couple of days, and remind them of the rules again—keep it a secret! Keep it a secret! Keep it a secret!"

The three exchanged a glance in the dim light, each seeing a mixture of tension, anticipation, and resolve in each other's eyes. This move, no matter what, had to be made.

Meanwhile, in the east courtyard, Wei Chen sat in his room, a small oil lamp burning beside him, a book in his hand, but he wasn't reading. His mind was still on Yan Bugui's words from that day. The ghost market…the south of the city…the foot of the city wall… He gently put down the book, walked to the cellar entrance, lifted a corner of the wooden plank, and looked inside at the overflowing supplies. He didn't need anything from the ghost market. But he knew he had to participate in this operation. He needed this "identity," this posture of "fitting in."

He covered the bed with the wooden planks again and lay down by the bedside. In the darkness, his gaze was calm and profound. He thought of his neighbors who were about to embark on the road to the ghost market in the dead of night, of Yi Zhonghai, Yan Bugui, and Liu Haizhong's schemes and worries, and of his own role in this courtyard.

He doesn't need to say anything or do anything; just maintaining this posture, participating along with the crowd, and quietly integrating is enough.

The tallest tree in the forest is the first to be felled by the wind. He didn't want to be that tallest tree; he just wanted to be the most inconspicuous one in the forest, quietly and peacefully passing through this long winter.

Outside the window, the cold wind howled, sweeping across the rooftops and swirling withered leaves. In the distance, a few sporadic barks of dogs occasionally drifted by, quickly fading into silence. The courtyard slept in the darkness, carrying all its secrets, struggles, and hopes. Beneath this tranquil surface, an undercurrent slowly surged.

The lights in the east courtyard went out shortly after nightfall.

The usual quiet of the courtyard house arrived as expected—not the kind of peaceful tranquility, but a silence tinged with a sense of oppression and weariness, as if the entire courtyard was holding its breath, waiting for something.

Every household turned off their lights early, and even the occasional coughs, children's cries, and whispers between couples that usually rang out became extremely rare in the late autumn night. Everyone was conserving their energy, even turning over in bed seemed a luxury. Hunger made everyone's sleep shallow and fragmented, but at least on the surface, this courtyard house fell into a deep slumber at midnight.

In the darkness, a faded blue cloth curtain covered the window of the room in the east courtyard. Behind the curtain, Wei Chen sat cross-legged on the bed, his eyes slightly closed, his breathing even and long.

He didn't sleep, or rather, his "sleep" didn't take up the whole night like ordinary people.

As he closed his eyes, he left a mental imprint on the door latch and vanished from the room.

This was a valley covered by a dense primeval forest. Moonlight filtered through the layered canopy, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The distant sound of a babbling brook mingled with the low chirping of insects in the forest. The air was filled with the damp scent of earth and the fresh fragrance of vegetation. Everything here was both unsettlingly real and dreamlike. But Wei Chen had long been accustomed to this strange feeling.

He stood in the shade of a huge oak tree, holding a hunting bow that was entirely black with dark gold patterns engraved on its bowstring. The bowstring gleamed faintly silver in the moonlight, a result of his constant nurturing and refining with his true essence.

The "Nine Heavens Shooting Sun Technique" circulated within his body, and his true essence flowed slowly along his meridians, making his senses exceptionally sharp—he could hear the sound of a field mouse gnawing on grass roots a hundred paces away, and he could distinguish the scent emanating from a wild deer in the distance in the wind.

"Woof." A deep bark came from beside my feet.

Big Yellow squatted beside him, its eyes, glowing with an eerie green light in the darkness, fixed on the depths of the forest. This dog was now a size larger than an ordinary mongrel, with glossy fur, thick limbs, and well-defined, powerful muscles. It had followed Wei Chen to level twenty-two, a pet that was intelligent, knew when to advance and retreat, and possessed an astonishingly keen sense of smell; it was his most reliable partner in hunting.

"Shh." Wei Chen whispered, silently raising his right hand to signal Da Huang to be quiet.

He heard it—about three hundred paces away, heavy hooves were slowly approaching. The footsteps had a distinctive rhythm: landing, pausing, landing again, pausing again.

It's a wild boar. And a fully grown male boar at that, weighing at least 300 pounds. In such a famine year, wild boars in the wild are usually much thinner, but this boar in the game world is quite robust.

Wei Chen slowly lowered himself, seemingly merging with the shadow of the oak tree. His breathing almost stopped, yet his heartbeat grew increasingly steady and powerful. He drew back the bowstring, his fingertips resting on a jet-black iron-spine arrow—the arrowhead, specially tempered, was incredibly sharp, capable of easily piercing the thick hide and fat of a wild boar. He channeled his true energy into the arrow, which seemed to come alive, trembling slightly in the moonlight and emitting a low-frequency vibration that only he could perceive.

The wild boar drew closer. It lowered its head, its long tusks gleaming coldly in the moonlight, and its heavy snorting could be clearly heard. Finding nothing amiss, it walked straight towards the soft soil at the base of an oak tree—where several clumps of lush wild vegetable roots lay, its target for the night.

Just as the wild boar lowered its head to root in the soil—

"Whoosh!"

The bowstring twanged almost silently. The arrow sliced ​​through the air, so fast that only a barely visible afterimage remained. Before the wild boar could even raise its head, the iron-backed arrow pierced precisely the fatal spot where its skull met its neck. Its massive body stiffened abruptly, its forelegs buckled, and it let out a muffled, short groan before collapsing to the ground with a thud. Its limbs twitched a few times, and then it fell silent.