Even that cripple Xu Feng can manage it, why can't we?

Xu Feng returned indoors carrying a wave of biting cold and unquenched anger, casually latching the courtyard gate behind him.

The kerosene lamp had been relighted by Lin Xue at some point. Under its dim, warm halo, she sat on the edge of the bed wrapped in a thin quilt, her eyes filled with worry. She had heard the commotion and the sounds of fighting outside loud and clear.

"It's nothing now." Xu Feng walked over to the bedside, his voice much softer than it had been outside, though still carrying a trace of hoarseness.

Lin Xue raised her head, looking at the fresh scratches on his face and the bruise at the corner of his mouth—injuries he had accidentally sustained while slapping Wang Erhu moments ago. She reached out, intending to touch his face, but then withdrew her hand in hesitation.

Xu Feng caught her hand; her fingers were rather cool.

"Just minor scrapes, nothing to worry about." He pressed her palm against his cheek. "Did I frighten you?"

Lin Xue shook her head, then picked up the slate and stone pencil resting by the pillow, quickly writing a few characters: *You are full of anger.*

Seeing the words on the slate, Xu Feng recalled the intimate moment that had just been interrupted, and a wry, awkward smile crept onto his face. For a grown man, having such passions so abruptly thwarted—well, not tearing Wang Erhu to pieces right on the spot was already a remarkable exercise in restraint.

"That bastard deserved a lesson," Xu Feng muttered vaguely, not dwelling on the topic further.

The atmosphere in the room turned somewhat delicate. The lingering romantic warmth had been shattered, and the paper-thin barrier between them that was about to be broken had been pasted back together, leaving behind a trace of unfulfilled regret and an unspoken, restless agitation.

Xu Feng took off his outer clothes and lay down on the other side of the bed.

Lin Xue silently blew out the kerosene lamp, plunging the room back into darkness. This time, a fist's distance separated them, and neither made a move to draw closer. The night was long, and their thoughts even longer.

...

Early the next morning, the villagers of Laohegou Village discovered that the prevailing wind had shifted once again.

Outside Xu Feng's house, the villagers who had only dared to sneakily drop off small gifts yesterday were now far more enthusiastic. Some brought freshly drawn well water, some brought eggs collected from their hens, and a few even brought slabs of cured bacon.

The looks they cast Xu Feng were now mixed with not just awe, but a heavy dose of ingratiation. After all, anyone who could stand up to Village Chief Sun Defu and beat Wang Erhu until he cried for his mother like a helpless child was undeniably a terrifying jinx in Laohegou Village. No one wanted to cross him.

Xu Feng accepted all this sudden "goodwill" with a courteous smile and words of thanks, though that smile somehow maintained an undeniable aloofness.

Lin Xue quietly helped him tidy up. She could sense the shift in the villagers' attitude, and even more so, she felt the invisible pressure surrounding the man beside her, as well as the deep-seated wariness the villagers held toward him.

Meanwhile, Wang Erhu's days were far from easy.

Sporting a face swollen like a pig's head and dragging a pair of rubbery legs, he had been running about frantically since dawn. To build a proper heated brick bed—a *kang*—within seven days was practically a death sentence for him!

A *kang* required bricks, mud, timber, and skilled craftsmen. Which of those did not cost money? The meager funds Wang Erhu had extorted through his usual bullying had long been squandered on food, drink, and gambling; his pockets were currently cleaner than his face.

His injured thugs were all lying at home groaning and whining, entirely useless. The fat man had his wrist bound in a dirty rag, his face twisted like a bitter melon. "Tiger Brother, seven days... what, what are we going to do? That guy surnamed Xu said if we don't finish it, he'll strip our bones to use as firewood!" Every time he pictured Xu Feng's expressionless face, his entire body shivered.

The thin man clutched his lower abdomen and leaned weakly against the wall. "Yeah, Tiger Brother, why don't... why don't we go back and kowtow to Master Xu? Offer a sincere apology, maybe he'll be magnanimous..."

"Kowtow?" Wang Erhu suddenly lashed out with a kick, sending a small stool flying as wooden splinters scattered everywhere. "That bastard ground my face into the dirt! Kowtow? You want to go, go ahead, I'm not going!"

His face was a patchwork of purple and blue, his mouth still crusted with dried blood—souvenirs left behind by Xu Feng the previous night. The mere thought of Xu Feng filled him with burning hatred and a terrifying panic.

"Then... then what on earth do we do?"

The sharp-faced, monkey-cheeked fellow—the one Xu Feng had kicked flying into the wall the night before—clutched his chest and coughed twice. "The money we have left isn't even enough for a fraction of the bricks." His throat had been injured too, making his voice raspy and harsh.

Wang Erhu irritably clawed at his greasy hair, pacing back and forth in the room like a caged wild beast. *Money! Money! Always money!* Since when had Wang Erhu ever worried so much about money?

"Tiger Brother," the fat man's eyes rolled as he lowered his voice, "how about... we go out tonight and score a little? That old tightwad Zhang Laoyan on the east side of the village—didn't his family sell a pig a few days ago? Word is he got a bunch of silver dollars for it. It's just an old man and a sick woman in that house, easy picking!"

"Are you fucking trying to get me killed faster?" Wang Erhu slapped the back of the fat man's head, sending him staggering. "The whole village is watching us right now! That jinx Xu Feng is just dying for an excuse to nail us! You want to go steal from Zhang Laoyan right now? Do you have a death wish, or do you think Xu Feng's fists aren't hard enough?"

The fat man clutched his head, not daring to utter another sound. The thin man shrank his neck as well. Xu Feng's blows from the previous night had been meant to kill; the mere memory of them gave them lingering chills.

Silence fell over the room once more, broken only by their heavy breathing and the fat man's occasional groans of pain.

The short ruffian whose throat had been struck by Xu Feng, rendering him temporarily mute, was scratching his head in frantic anxiety. Suddenly, he pointed outside, then toward the direction of the deep mountains, mimicked drawing a bow and shooting an arrow with both hands, and finally pointed toward Xu Feng's courtyard while making a counting-money gesture.

At first, Wang Erhu didn't understand, frowning as he asked, "What the hell are you gesturing for? Drawing ghost talismans?"

The mute grew anxious and repeated the motion, even imitating a few beastly growls.

Wang Erhu stared at his gestures, pondering for a long moment, when suddenly, a flash of realization burst through his bloodshot eyes!

"That's right!" He slapped his thigh, the despair on his face instantly wiped away, replaced by an unhealthy excitement. "How could I have forgotten about that!"

He grabbed the mute by the shoulders. "You mean... we should do what that cripple Xu Feng does, and go hunting in the mountains?"

The mute nodded vigorously, a look of *you-finally-figured-it-out* on his face.

"That cripple Xu Feng, saddled with a family, manages to pull pheasants and rabbits—even roe deer and wild boars—out of the mountains every single day!" The more Wang Erhu spoke, the more excited he became, as if he could already see the ground littered with game. "The four of us, four able-bodied grown men, are we really going to lose to a disabled nobody?"

Upon hearing that they were heading into the mountains, the fat man's face paled by three shades. "Tiger Brother, this... this is a bad idea! This hand of mine..." He shook his bandaged arm. "The mountains are so dangerous, full of wolves, tigers, and leopards. What if we run into a black bear..."

"Yeah, Tiger Brother," the thin man hurriedly chimed in. "My stomach still aches faintly. Besides, those mountains are Xu Feng's territory. If he happens to run into us..." He didn't dare finish the sentence, but his meaning was clear.

"Shut the fuck up, all of you!" Wang Erhu glared, his fierce nature baring its fangs. "If we don't go hunting, are we supposed to sit here and wait to die? Wait until seven days are up and Xu Feng comes over to strip our bones for firewood?"

Spittle flying, he roared, "What is there to be afraid of! If Xu Feng can go into the mountains, so can I! Don't forget, my ancestors were hunters too! I know the ropes better than he does!"

He strode over to a corner of the room and fished an old, dust-covered hunting bow out from a pile of debris. The bow body was made of seasoned hardwood and, though old, was still in decent shape. He then found an old quiver holding seven or eight arrows, most of their tips rusted over.

"See that? The gear is all right here!" Wang Erhu slapped the bow, making a sharp *thwack* sound. "As long as we bag a wild boar or a few roe deer and take them to town to sell, won't we have the money for the *kang*? With a bit of luck, we might even run into a solitary tiger; a single tiger pelt would let us live in luxury for years!"

The blueprint he painted was enticing, but the fat man and the others looked at the battered bow and rusty arrows, thought about the perils of the deep mountains, and felt their knees tremble uncontrollably.

"But Tiger Brother..."

"No buts!" Wang Erhu shoved the bow into the fat man's arms. "You, check the bowstring and sharpen the arrows! Thin Man, go find some styptic herbs to put on the mute's throat and rub some on your own stomach! Mute, go gather every sack in the house that can hold things!"

He gave them no room for argument, issuing direct commands.

"Get a move on, all of you! We leave before dawn tomorrow! If anyone dares to hold me back or turns coward at the last minute, don't blame me for turning ruthless and breaking your legs to throw you into the mountains for the wolves!" Wang Erhu added viciously.

Cradling the heavy old bow, the fat man felt like crying without tears. Swallowing his dread, he began inspecting the bowstring.

The bowstring was made of ox sinew and looked sturdy enough, but as he pulled on it hard to test its resilience, a faint, almost imperceptible *snap* sounded.

A heavy stone dropped in the fat man's chest. Lowering his head to look closely, he saw that a tiny strand of the sinew—weakened from years of disuse—had frayed under his pull.

Though the bowstring wasn't completely broken, the fat man knew its tensile strength had been severely compromised. If he really pulled it to full draw, it might snap right then and there.

Startled, he raised his head, wanting to inform Wang Erhu.

Yet, catching sight of Wang Erhu's fierce, impatient glare, the words died in his throat. If he mentioned the bow was broken right now, Wang Erhu would surely skin him alive.

Guiltily, the fat man quietly turned the damaged section of the bowstring inward and forced a smile that looked worse than crying. "Tiger Brother, this bow... it's just fine! Sturdy as can be!"

Wang Erhu didn't examine it closely. He was completely immersed in the fantasy of bagging massive game and throwing it in Xu Feng's face, waving a hand impatiently. "Good then! Hurry up and pack! Damn it, once I strike it rich, the first thing I'll do is snatch that little woman of Xu Feng's..."

The thin man and the mute exchanged glances, reading deep fear and helplessness in each other's eyes. They knew Wang Erhu's mind was completely made up.

Wang Erhu kicked the thin man, who was still lingering on the floor, cursing, "What are you staring at? Get moving! If we come back empty-handed tomorrow, the lot of us can just wait to head to the execution grounds together!"