Volume One, Chapter Seven: Carrying the Pig

“I’d like to borrow some cornstalks from the brigade,” He Yulan said shyly after speaking. She knew the cornstalks were usually reserved to feed the brigade’s livestock, so she feared Zhao Hu might refuse.

To her surprise, Zhao Hu readily agreed. After asking about the reason, he even promised to help them fix up their little wooden cabin properly next year.

Lin Xiao and his mother had initially planned to use an ice sled to haul the cornstalks, but Zhao Hu hitched up a cattle cart, loaded it full with cornstalks, and delivered it right to the cabin.

By the time the cabin was fully surrounded and insulated, it was already midday. He Yulan wanted to invite Captain Zhao to stay for lunch before leaving.

However, Zhao Hu firmly declined.

In the end, Lin Xiao insisted on giving Zhao Hu a piece of venison.

On the way back, Zhao Hu’s heart was a tangle of emotions, a mix of joy and sorrow.

The joy came from knowing his daughter-in-law had just given birth and was undernourished, unable to produce milk. His eldest grandson was crying from hunger. Finally, there was some meat to help nourish her.

The sorrow came from realizing how hard life was for He Yulan and the two women, struggling just to get by. And yet, they still thought to repay him with meat.

After Zhao Hu left, Lin Xiao and his mother exchanged a look, neither speaking, both understanding the other’s thoughts.

They could hear the baby’s cries from the captain’s house.

Lin Xiao glanced at the sky. Realizing today was no day for wandering the mountain, and recalling the promise he made to Captain Zhao, his mind settled on a target.

He coiled the rope around his waist, slung the saw blade behind his back, tucked the short antler knife into his belt, held the mountain axe in one hand, and pulled the sled with the other.

“Mother, I’m going to chop some tree trunks,” he said as he prepared to leave.

At that moment, his little sister saw him going and insisted on coming along.

Lin Xiao didn’t want to upset her, but worried she’d catch a cold, so he bundled her up tightly, leaving only her eyes and mouth visible, then let her sit on the sled to follow him.

Along the way, the two siblings chatted happily until they reached the edge of the forest.

Lin Xiao chopped wood while Lin Xi helped out.

When they returned home, Lin Xiao began crafting hunting tools from the freshly cut trunks.

He Yulan had thought he was gathering firewood, but seeing him busy with the logs, she approached and asked,

“What are you working on, son?”

Lin Xiao smiled warmly. “Don’t worry, Mother. You’ll see soon enough.”

He carved the logs into sharp, pointed stakes, then linked these points together to form a wooden trap.

When done, he warned his little sister playing nearby not to touch it, cautioning her it was sharp.

He then asked his mother to help carry the wooden trap onto the sled.

Seeing what her son had made, He Yulan chuckled and said,

“You made a death spike? It’s freezing cold now, and you can’t even dig a hole in the frozen ground. What good is that?”

She had seen such traps before when she went up the mountain with her eldest uncle, He Shoulin, and knew how they were used.

Besides, even if they could dig holes, the brigade had never used this method for hunting because villagers might accidentally fall in.

“Don’t worry, Mother. What I made isn’t a death spike. It’s called a falling blade spike, or more accurately, a falling log spike, because we don’t have blades attached,” Lin Xiao explained.

“Tomorrow morning, I’m going to find Uncle Hu and ask him to lead me to the damaged farmland.”

“You’re going after wild boars? Wild boars aren’t like wild chickens or rabbits. Those beasts can be fierce—you won’t be able to handle them,” He Yulan worried, guessing his plan.

“Don’t worry, Mother! I’ll be up in the trees anyway, and wild boars don’t climb trees!” Lin Xiao said with a mischievous grin.

The next day, after Lin Xiao and Captain Zhao surveyed the terrain, Zhao asked how he planned to hunt the wild boars.

Lin Xiao just said it was a secret and then bade him farewell.

Zhao had considered lending Lin Xiao his hunting rifle but changed his mind upon hearing Lin Xiao’s response. He thought the boy was clever and might really have a way, so he didn’t press further.

Back home, Lin Xiao asked his mother for two pounds of cornmeal. At first, she hesitated, reluctant to part with their limited grain. The cornmeal had been secretly sent by Lin Xiao’s eldest brother, He Qingshan.

But then she thought, her son was doing this for the family. If he could really catch a wild boar, they could trade the meat on the black market for more food.

With everything prepared, Lin Xiao set out early the next morning, carrying his gear.

He Yulan wanted to accompany him, worried about the danger, to keep an eye on him.

Lin Xiao refused. “I can climb trees; you can’t. You don’t need to come.” Then he took the sled and headed for the hunting spot.

Following the wild boars’ tracks, he found a sturdy tree and, with rope in hand, quickly climbed up.

Using the principle of multiple pulleys, he tied one end of the rope to the tree, ran the other end over several thick branches, and lowered it to the ground.

He jumped down and tied the rope to the falling log spike he had made.

Then he climbed back up swiftly and hoisted the trap using the rope.

When it reached the right height, he tied a slip knot to secure it.

Jumping down again, he dragged the sled to a distance, then returned to carefully erase all traces on the ground, scattering cornmeal over the area.

By the time he climbed the tree again, Lin Xiao was already exhausted from the strain on his small frame.

He found a suitable branch to sit on and employed the “waiting patiently” tactic, silently watching for the wild boars.

As the sun set, and darkness approached, he worried his mother and sister would be anxious if he didn’t return soon.

This was already the second day of the wager. If the boars didn’t come today or tomorrow, he’d lose the bet—and the rifle wouldn’t be his.

Thinking he might lose, Lin Xiao sighed involuntarily.

He took the remaining cornmeal, jumped down, pulled the sled, and headed home with his head down.

His mother had been waiting at the crossroads for a long time. Seeing her son return safely filled her with joy.

Noticing his dejected expression and the sled, she guessed he hadn’t caught any wild boar and felt concerned.

Comforting him, she said, “Son, it’s okay if you didn’t catch any wild boar. What matters is that you came back safely.”

Lin Xiao recounted the day’s events.

He Yulan added, “Sometimes hunting requires luck. It’s so cold; wild boars might not want to come out to forage. Not catching any is normal.”

“Come inside! I’ve cooked some venison for you both. Your sister was hungry and has already eaten. Hurry in and warm up.”

That night, Lin Xiao tossed and turned, thoughts of hunting wild boars swirling in his mind.

At dawn, he took the sled and gear back to the hunting spot.

This time, he scattered the leftover cornmeal farther away.

After erasing all traces, he climbed the tree quickly.

As the sun rose slowly, there was still no sign of wild boars.

By midday, the sun warmed Lin Xiao’s face, making him drowsy. Unconsciously, he fell asleep on the branch.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep when he vaguely heard snuffling sounds.

The wild boars had arrived!

Lin Xiao suddenly opened his eyes and looked down.

“There’s nothing here—where’s that snorting coming from?”

He slowly scanned the surroundings and suddenly spotted a dark shape in the nearby bushes.

It was rooting around the tree roots, leisurely making its way toward the cornmeal.

Listening to the snorts, Lin Xiao felt as if he were hearing beautiful music, his joy uncontainable.

Focusing carefully, he exclaimed, “My goodness! That’s not just one wild boar—it’s a whole herd!”

One, two, three... counting the adults and piglets, there were twelve in total.

Though he couldn’t tell their exact weight from the tree, the smallest looked to weigh at least fifty to sixty pounds.

The largest, while probably not four hundred pounds, seemed to be around three hundred to three hundred sixty pounds.