Chapter 9: Hunting for Wild Game

Xie Jiu’er smiled and nodded. Her foolish little brother had never tasted real food since birth. Now he’d been conquered by just a few wild vegetables. She silently vowed to work twice as hard in the future, so he could eat hearty meals and enjoy rich flavors every day.

After dinner, while there was still some daylight left, Zhou shi and Wuyang busied themselves in the courtyard, working with foxtail seeds—one striking with the bamboo flail, the other using the winnowing basket. Their coordination grew more seamless by the minute.

Xie Jiu’er didn’t idle either. Huffing and puffing, she went back to processing the salt. She boiled down the remaining brine, which had an exceptionally high salt content. To her surprise, several buckets of brine produced nearly half a jar of salt—enough to last them quite some time.

Xiao Jinyu’s wound was slowly healing. The past two days had been particularly itchy and uncomfortable. After dinner, he strolled into the courtyard at a leisurely pace.

From the stack of wood Xie Jiu’er had gathered for making charcoal beneath the eaves, he selected a slightly curved branch. Then, drawing the dagger from his waist, he began to whittle the wood.

Soon, a bow took shape. He then removed his leather belt and cut a strip from it to use as a bowstring.

Next came arrow-making. He chose a stick roughly the thickness of a finger, shaved it down further, then pulled out a half-broken iron arrowhead from inside his shirt and attached it to the shaft.

Watching from the side, Xie Jiu’er was stunned. “Wow,” she thought, “quite the thrifty type, huh? Someone shot an arrow into your leg and you saved it. Now that you’ve fallen on hard times, you’re recycling it.”

In the quiet mountain village, the four of them each busied themselves with their own tasks until darkness completely fell. Only then did they return to their rooms to sleep. It was now deep winter, and the cold grew more biting by the day.

Xie Jiu’er and Zhou shi huddled together under the same blanket. The cold air seeped in relentlessly through the gaps in the broken wooden door and windows. It was bone-chilling—her feet had gone numb, and even her brain felt sluggish.

If it was this cold inside their home, she could only imagine how her grandparents and the entire eldest branch of the family—who had abandoned them and fled—were faring. They were probably freezing to death. Thinking of this brought her some comfort, and she soon drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Xiao Jinyu planned to head into the mountains alone to hunt wild game. Watching the injured man limping off with a money pouch tied to his waist, Xie Jiu’er frowned. He was bound to aggravate his wound, and if he encountered a wild beast, his leg wouldn’t let him move quickly. If something happened to him, it’d be a disaster. She insisted on tagging along.

Xiao Jinyu was clearly annoyed. “You’re just a girl. You don’t know how to hunt. Wouldn’t you just be putting both of us in danger?”

Xie Jiu’er shook her head like a rattle-drum. “Don’t be so sure. I might actually be of help.” Her expression was full of concern, and in the end, Xiao Jinyu had no choice but to let her come along.

She followed closely behind him, clutching her life-saving weapon—a packet of mustard.

She had no other means of defense. The mustard was pungent and spicy—if worst came to worst, she could throw it into a beast’s eyes and buy herself a chance to escape.

Though Xiao Jinyu was badly injured and moved slowly, his gait didn’t show much sign of weakness. They entered the forest together, with Xie Jiu’er carefully trailing behind. The winter woods were dry and yellow, and utterly silent.

They wandered for quite a while before spotting a wild rabbit licking at a patch of snow that hadn’t yet melted in the shade of a tree. Xiao Jinyu raised his bow and took aim. Xie Jiu’er held her breath, afraid of scaring off what might become their lunch.

With a single shot, the arrow struck the rabbit squarely in the back, pinning it to the ground. Xie Jiu’er rushed over, picked it up, and handed the makeshift arrow back to Xiao Jinyu.

They ventured a little deeper and caught a scrawny wild pheasant. One rabbit in her left hand, a pheasant in her right—Xie Jiu’er noted the difference in weight.

“The same forest, but such a big difference. This bird’s so skinny,” she muttered, weighing it in her hand with a puzzled look.

“Same land, different fates. Years of war—some people have been eaten, others did the eating. Where in this world is there fairness?” Xiao Jinyu suddenly spoke, his tone laden with meaning. “If you want something, you have to fight for it. If you’re too weak, even what’s already in your hands can be taken away.”

Xie Jiu’er raised an eyebrow. “Hmm, someone got schemed against by his own brother—doesn’t feel so great, huh?” Out loud, she played dumb. “Why do your words sound so cryptic? Oh, right! You’ve been staying at my house for three or four days now, and I still don’t know your name.”

“Xiao,” he replied simply.

Xie Jiu’er’s eyes sparkled. “Alright then, Big Brother Xiao, you take the food home first. I’m heading down to the foot of the village to gather some Dog Milkweed.”

Xiao Jinyu looked at the chicken and rabbit she’d shoved into his arms. “This is enough for dinner—why more vegetables?”

“We can’t just eat meat. Add some greens into the stew, and it’s even tastier. More importantly, the medicine for your wound is all used up. The fruit juice from Dog Milkweed helps reduce inflammation, swelling, and pain. It’s only been three or four days—we’ve still got at least half a month to go. We need to be cautious. If that wound gets infected or festers, it’ll be trouble.”

Seeing Xiao Jinyu slowing his steps, she grew anxious. That kind of injury—if this were modern times, he’d be lucky to get out of bed with help just to use the bathroom. Here, with barely any medical care, he’d climbed mountains and walked long distances. How could he bear it?

Xiao Jinyu tightened his grip on the chicken and rabbit. “Alright. Thank you.”

Xie Jiu’er smiled faintly, then quickly made her way downstream.

The lush patches of Dog Milkweed stood out brightly in the withered forest. Xie Jiu’er carefully picked a few mature plants, plucked the fruit, and pinched off some fresh tips. Tossing them into a meat stew would surely make it delicious.

By the time the two of them returned home, it was nearly noon. Zhou shi and Wuyang were still in the mountains, diligently collecting foxtail grass. Xie Jiu’er first made a medicinal paste for Xiao Jinyu.

“Apply this to your wound. It’ll keep it from getting infected.”

“Alright.” Xiao Jinyu took the bowl from her and went into the house to treat himself. Xie Jiu’er began boiling water to pluck feathers.

She placed the pheasant into a basin and poured scalding water over it again and again, making sure to get under the wings, around the legs, and into every crevice.

Once thoroughly soaked, she let it sit a moment longer before deftly plucking the feathers. The hot water worked wonders—the feathers came off easily. To her surprise, though the bird had looked skinny, there was a thick layer of golden fat beneath the skin.

Normally, meat without much substance but full of fat would be disappointing. But in their current situation—no cooking oil at all—this fat was a treasure. She was already planning lunch in her head.

After cleaning the pheasant, she moved on to the rabbit. Though rabbit fur could also be plucked with hot water, Xie Jiu’er figured she could make a scarf from the pelt, so she decided to skin it whole.

Just then, Xiao Jinyu reappeared, his medicine freshly applied. Xie Jiu’er was crouched at the kitchen door, carefully preparing the rabbit. Without looking up, she asked, “How’s the wound? Did it reopen? Any bleeding?”