Chapter 37: Taking Back What Is Mine

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Her voice was very soft, carrying the shy solemnity of a newlywed bride. It brushed lightly against the very tip of Xu Feng’s heart like a feather.

Xu Feng froze.

He had imagined countless possible paths for their relationship: from their initial wariness of each other, to working together to survive, and finally to their present state of relying on one another.

He had always regarded it as an alliance born of necessity, an unspoken understanding between two people huddling together for warmth in a lawless age.

But that single word—“husband”—had pierced through the thin veil between them.

This was neither a transaction nor a pact. It was a complete and unreserved entrustment of herself.

In that moment, he was no longer merely the “hunter” who needed her to play along, and she was no longer merely the “mute woman” who required his protection.

They had become, in the most proper sense, a family.

Xu Feng’s Adam’s apple bobbed. As he looked into her earnest eyes, touched with a hint of expectation, the violent anger stirred within him by Wang Erhu vanished in an instant, washed away without a trace.

He even felt that the wound on his chin no longer hurt as much.

Damn, this feeling really wasn’t bad.

He stopped insisting, returned the broom to her, then turned and strode out through the courtyard gate.

“I’m going out for a while.” Without looking back, he tossed over his shoulder, “Wait for me to bring home some meat for dinner.”

Lin Xue watched his tall figure disappear in great strides. There was something in his bearing that suggested a storm was about to break.

She did not ask where he was going or what he intended to do.

She merely lowered her head, tightened her grip on the broom, and began sweeping even harder at the home that belonged to the two of them.

…

Xu Feng had returned.

The news swept through every corner of Old River Gully Village like a gust of wind.

Men and women, old and young, peered furtively at him through cracks in their doors, over their walls, and from behind their windows as he approached from the village entrance.

They saw that Xu Feng’s chin was bruised and swollen, as though he had been in a fight.

Yet he walked with a straighter, steadier posture than before. The force of his presence made everyone spying on him feel a chill run down the backs of their necks.

Just who was this man?

He had been taken away by Soviet soldiers, yet he had managed to return in one piece? Around Upper Dam Town, this was unprecedented!

For a time, all kinds of speculation fermented in the villagers’ minds.

“I’d say he was probably working as a spy for the Soviets!”

“Could be! Otherwise, why would they have let him come back?”

“Then Wang Erhu is in for it. He was the one who reported him. Didn’t that completely offend the man?”

“Serves him right! Wang Erhu’s nothing but scum!”

The tide of opinion had shifted once more, quietly and imperceptibly.

The villagers who had followed Wang Erhu in cursing Xu Feng as a traitor just yesterday now felt that Wang Erhu was the real piece of filth.

Meanwhile, the instigator of it all, Wang Erhu, was enjoying himself like an immortal in his smoke-blackened mud-brick house.

On a greasy, broken table lay several small dishes. At the center was a large basin of wild boar meat stewed until it was falling apart, its aroma filling the room.

The meat was precisely what he had “taken” from Xu Feng’s house the day before.

It was not the only thing. He had also made off with several rabbit pelts, half a serow haunch, and, most importantly, his family’s heirloom hunting bow, which had finally been recovered.

Wang Erhu held a bowl of cheap grain liquor, drinking until his face shone red.

He had propped his feet up on the table and was boasting about his “heroic deeds” to three other local thugs.

“See that? This is what happens when you cross your Uncle Tiger!”

Pointing at the basin of meat with his chopsticks, Wang Erhu sprayed spittle everywhere. “Xu Feng thought he was so damn impressive? No matter how tough he is, he’s still chewing cornmeal buns in a Soviet prison right now! And that little wife of his… tsk, tsk. I bet those Russian soldiers have already had their way with her!”

“What a waste. What a terrible waste!” A long, gaunt man with a sharp, monkey-like face chimed in with a lascivious grin. “Brother Tiger, that woman was a real beauty. Her skin was softer than tofu! To think she ended up with those Russians—it makes me sick just thinking about it!”

“Exactly!” Another man, fat and covered in coarse flesh, slapped his thigh and complained. “Brother Tiger, you shouldn’t have reported him yesterday! What a perfect opportunity!”

“While the two of them were up in the mountains, the four of us could have slipped into the woods. No matter how well that Xu fellow can fight, could he really beat all four of us? Then the bow would be yours, the meat would be yours, and that woman…” He gave a lewd chuckle. “The four of us could have taken turns enjoying ourselves. Wouldn’t that have been better than this?”

At those words, Wang Erhu froze as well.

He thought about it. It did seem to make sense.

By reporting Xu Feng, he had certainly vented his anger—but the woman had disappeared along with him.

If he had followed the fat man’s suggestion, he could have gained both wealth and beauty!

He immediately beat his chest and stamped his feet, his face full of regret.

“Damn it! What a blunder! I was so focused on getting revenge that I forgot all about that!”

“There’s no point talking about it now!” the sharp-faced, gaunt man sighed. He stuffed a large piece of fatty meat into his mouth and mumbled, “We might as well eat. It’ll be hard to find another woman that beautiful…”

The men in the room sank into vulgar fantasies and regret over Lin Xue’s extraordinary beauty. For a while, even the liquor seemed to lose its flavor.

Just then—

“Bang!”

The thunderous crash sounded like lightning striking the ground.

The already rickety wooden door of Wang Erhu’s house was kicked open from outside.

Splinters and dust flew in every direction. Sunlight poured through the gaping doorway, illuminating the filth inside.

A tall figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the light.

The four men drinking and eating inside jolted in fright. Their bowls nearly slipped from their hands.

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They narrowed their eyes and finally recognized the intruder.

It was Xu Feng.

He stood there in silence, half his face bathed in sunlight and the other half submerged in shadow.

The sunlit side clearly revealed the swollen blue-purple bruise on his chin.

On the shadowed side, however, there was only a pair of eyes, bright enough to terrify.

What kind of eyes were they?

There was no anger in them, no roar—only utter silence.

They resembled a deep pool sealed beneath a thousand years of ice, or the gaze of a slaughterhouse butcher looking down at a lamb awaiting its death.

Cold. Indifferent. Filled with pure, undisguised murderous intent.

In that instant, the air in the room seemed to freeze.

Even the fragrance of the stewed meat appeared to be frozen solid by the bone-chilling cold.

The drunkenness and lecherous grin vanished from Wang Erhu’s face, replaced by the horror and terror of a man who had seen a ghost.

“You… you… how did you get back?!”

The bowl in his hand clattered to the ground and shattered.

His voice trembled like a fallen leaf in the autumn wind.

The other three thugs sprang from their stools in terror, scrambling to reach for their weapons.

But under Xu Feng’s gaze, their movements appeared stiff and ridiculous.

Xu Feng did not answer.

He merely began to walk slowly into the room.

With every step he took, it felt as though he were treading directly on the hearts of the four men. The invisible pressure made it difficult for them to breathe.

“D-don’t come any closer!” Wang Erhu shrieked, fierce only in appearance. He instinctively backed away, but his foot caught on the table behind him, and he fell heavily onto the floor, utterly disheveled.

Xu Feng’s gaze slowly moved away from Wang Erhu’s terrified face and settled on the basin of wild boar meat still steaming at the center of the table.

Then he saw the corner of the room: his family’s heirloom hunting bow, along with several rabbit pelts that had been stripped but not yet treated.

The corner of his mouth curved into a grim smile.

“My things,” he finally said. His voice was quiet, yet it struck everyone’s ears like an ice-coated blade.

“Taste good?”

To Wang Erhu, that mild question was more terrifying than the vilest curse.

He sat collapsed on the floor, watching Xu Feng approach step by step. The chill rising from the soles of his feet seemed almost strong enough to freeze the blood in his veins.

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