The family divided up the ten sparrows they had managed to catch. Li Jianguo and his wife each had one, Li Long ate two, and each of the kids got three.

The little sparrows had only a bit of meat on their legs and chests, but Li Qiang and Li Juan savored every bite. They gnawed every large bone clean, and even crunched down the smaller bones without spitting them out. After finishing, they licked their fingers spotless.

Watching them, Li Long felt a pang of guilt; it was clear these two were craving meat. When he was an apprentice in Wucheng, he’d never denied himself anything, using his wages to buy clothes and splurge on deli meats. He hadn’t thought of his niece and nephew at all—he felt ashamed.

Seeing the kids look wistful even after eating, Li Long’s heart softened. Just three sparrows—how much meat could that even be? He decided he would head out again later that night to try his luck for more.

Without saying anything, he sent Li Juan and Li Qiang off to bed in the west room. Then he grabbed his coat, flashlight, net, and an empty sack, slipping out quietly into the night.

In the west room, where Li Juan and Li Qiang were already asleep, Liang Yuemei spoke softly to her husband, “Li Long has changed, hasn’t he? He used to be so distant with Juan and Qiang, but now look at him…”

“Well, he is their uncle,” Li Jianguo replied, rolling his tobacco. “I’ve looked out for him all his life; now it’s his turn to look out for his niece and nephew.”

“That’s true,” Liang Yuemei agreed with a smile. “Though he’s been through some hardship lately, it seems to have made him grow up. That money we spent wasn’t wasted!”

Li Jianguo nodded. He had long hoped his younger brother would mature, but had avoided pushing him too hard, hoping he’d eventually understand through example. Now that he has become sensible he is relieved.

Li Long made his way east, toward a nearby open field and some farmland. Scattered around the edge of this farmland were piles of earth and dried crop roots left after the autumn harvest. This area, he knew, was popular with a bird known as the guagua—a kind of chubby game bird known for its distinctive “quack-quack” call.

Nowadays, due to lack of food and malnutrition, most people suffer from night blindness at night, and few households even owned a flashlight. Besides, even those who knew where the birds roosted had neither the tools nor good enough eyesight to catch them at night.

But Li Long had both. As a factory worker, he’d eaten better than most in the village, so his eyesight and strength were decent. He walked through the snow, not bothering to hide his footsteps.

The guagua birds were rather dim-witted, or so Li Long thought. He’d heard a story from a local shepherd who’d discovered their nesting spot by accident. One evening, as darkness fell, the shepherd had been so exhausted that he’d sat down on what he thought was a rock, only for it to spring up and scatter—a whole group of guagua birds had been roosting there.

Since guagua birds rarely moved once they’d found a cozy spot, it was relatively easy to catch them.

After about half an hour of trudging through thick snow, Li Long finally reached the area, feeling a light sweat despite the freezing temperature. He switched on his flashlight and scanned the ground quickly—he couldn’t afford to linger in the frigid air for too long.

He spotted some small snow-covered mounds ahead—piles of earth blanketed in snow. Disappointed at first, he noticed that one mound near the fields looked slightly disturbed, revealing dried grass and stalks beneath.

Jackpot!

A little further on, he spotted them: a cluster of grayish-black birds huddled together in the snow. From a quick scan, he counted at least a dozen of them. Some were already asleep, while others, alert to the flashlight, watched him cautiously.

Li Long quickly switched off his light and closed his eyes to adjust to the dark. After a minute or so, he could make out faint shapes. Slowly, he inched closer to the nearest guagua bird, net in hand.

When he was less than a meter away, he raised the net and, with a swift downward motion, trapped the bird before it even realized what was happening. He reached into the net, scooped up the startled bird, and slipped it into his sack. It was a hefty catch—this one bird probably weighed half a kilo, equivalent to a dozen sparrows.

Nearby, two other guagua birds shuffled nervously but ultimately decided to stay put. Li Long didn’t miss the opportunity. He netted both of them and dropped them into his sack as well.

One bird flew off, causing a ripple of movement in the group. Li Long quickly swung his net again, capturing two more before the rest finally took flight with a loud fluttering of wings.

Five birds in total. Watching the remaining ones fly off, Li Long decided he’d caught enough. The snow was deep, and his energy was fading. The burst of movement had left him drenched in sweat, which now chilled his skin as he paused.

He knew he’d better warm up quickly and soak his feet as soon as he returned—otherwise, he’d probably come down with a fever tomorrow.

But with five guagua birds in his sack, he felt victorious, like a general returning from battle.

Tomorrow, there’d be a real feast!