HLM – Chapter 1067 Personally Entertaining Guests

When they got home, Wang Bo’s dad and mom still hadn’t returned from their trip out to sea.

The house was quiet. Wang Bo carried the sun-dried salted fish into the shade—while strong sunlight did produce good dried fish, the heat and humidity could cause the fish to ferment, which would ruin the flavor.

Na Qingyang waved his hand. “Man, this smell is strong.”

Li Xing gave a cool smile. “That’s because you’ve never been on a battlefield. Spend two days under the Iraqi sun in August or September lying next to corpses, and you’ll think this smell is heavenly.”

Na Qingyang shoved him. “Cut it out. I’m a fine young socialist, why would I go suffer in a capitalist country?”

“Funny—you talk like you’re not standing in a capitalist country right now,” Wang Bo laughed.

After packing up the huge pile of dried fish, the day was just about over. The sun was setting.

“Old Wang, where are uncle and auntie? Why aren’t they back yet?” Na Qingyang asked.

Wang Bo thought for a moment. “They’re probably sleeping on the boat tonight. Might not come back.”

Na Qingyang looked regretful. “What a pity. I wanted to greet them.”

Li Xing said, “You’re worried no one will cook for you, aren’t you?”

Na Qingyang flipped him off. “Get lost.”

Just then, a kid from the village came hopping over. As soon as he stepped inside, the Fat Cat Brothers ran up, yowling in agitation, trying to chase him away.

The boy cautiously and curiously eyed the two cats, raising his hand to try touching one.

Da Pang narrowed his eyes and stared coldly at the boy, his long fur puffing up in layers, clearly ready to attack.

Wang Bo hollered, “Da Pang! Behave! Xiaolong, tear off a piece of fish and then try petting him.”

The boy tore off a piece from the drying fish. Er Pang immediately leapt up and snatched it, chewing with oil dripping out of his mouth.

After that, when the boy reached out to pet him again, Er Pang acted meekly—ears tucked, eyes wide, trying to look cute in hopes of getting more food.

After petting Er Pang for a while, the boy stood up and grinned. “Uncle, your cats are so funny! They look fierce but their tempers are so cute! After they have kittens, can you give me one?”

Wang Bo felt awkward and smiled bitterly. “Uncle will bring you a Scottish Fold or something from New Zealand in the future. These two won’t do. They’re not actually cats, and they’re not allowed here in China.”

Xiaolong sighed regretfully, then perked up again. “Oh right! Where’s your big dog? Why didn’t I see him this time?”

“I didn’t bring him this trip. Why?” Wang Bo asked.

Xiaolong grinned. “Nothing. Just thought it’d be hilarious if he were here. Our village had tons of puppies born this year. They’re all your dog’s kids.”

Wang Bo was speechless. Last New Year, Zhuang Ding really had gone around the village “planting seeds”—and indeed, the whole village ended up with his offspring.

After chatting for a bit, Wang Bo finally asked why the boy had come. The boy stuck out his tongue. “Oops, I forgot the important part! My grandpa and grandma aren’t coming back from sea tonight. My dad told me to ask you to come eat at our house.”

Wang Bo shook his head. “No, maybe next time. Tell your dad Uncle has friends visiting—I need to host them.”

The boy nodded. Eva gave him some small gifts. He beamed, yelled “Thanks, Auntie!” and ran off.

“So, how are you entertaining us tonight?” Na Qingyang asked eagerly.

Wang Bo opened a big crock. “Pickles. Tons of pickles. Come on, don’t be shy in front of your mayor—take as much as you want.”

Li Xing thought he was joking… until several salted carrots and radish heads came out of the crock.

The two were dumbfounded. “Holy crap, you really would serve this?”

Wang Bo sliced the pickles quickly, rinsed them and soaked them in water, laughing. “Of course. What can’t I do?”

Xiaolong ran back again with a bunch of tiny fish, each only as thick as a child’s finger. “Dad just caught these silverfish today. Told me to bring some over.”

Eva asked, “Isn’t this the closed fishing season?”

Xiaolong made a face. “We catch them secretly. Just for home use, not for sale, so the government allows it.”

Wang Bo accepted the fish. A while later, someone delivered a basket of crabs.

“These are home-raised, so they can be harvested,” he explained to Eva.

Eva smiled. “I’m not some rigid old fossil. Why explain it to me?”

Wang Bo checked the fridge—almost empty. His parents clearly hadn’t eaten at home for a while, and the fridge had lost power. Only the freezer was still running, full of fruit and ice cream.

But food was never a problem in the village. He led Na Qingyang and Li Xing to the back of the village, into the weeds, and began searching.

“Are we catching cicada nymphs?” Na Qingyang asked excitedly.

“Not today. You catch those after the rain,” Wang Bo said without looking up. “Today we’re hunting for eggs. Some hens lay their eggs here.”

“What the hell—that’s stealing.”

Wang Bo shone his flashlight. “What’s this?”

“…A flashlight.”

“Exactly. With a flashlight, I’m openly collecting eggs. How can you call that stealing?” Wang Bo replied righteously.

After rummaging in the grass for a while, he ended up with a net bag full of eggs.

Of course, they weren’t from village hens—he had taken them from the sandbox.

Li Xing and Na Qingyang also “found” some (Wang Bo had planted a few for them).

Carrying the eggs back, Na Qingyang looked around sneakily. “This is freaking thrilling. Too bad I didn’t see a hen. Catching a hen to stew would be amazing.”

Wang Bo: “…”

Na Qingyang: “Crap—does this count as bandits raiding a village?”

They steamed the crabs, pan-fried the silverfish, stir-fried eggs with pickles, and grilled shredded dried fish. Four people, four dishes.

Wang Bo borrowed a plate of salted peanuts from the neighbors—who happened to be stir-frying river snails and gave them a plate too.

Seeing the snails, Na Qingyang shook his head. “Don’t eat those too much. Lots of parasites. Dangerous.”

“Then just eat peanuts,” Wang Bo said, sucking on the snails with gusto.

Eva smiled. “Three fingers to the snail, effortless victory, right?”

“Huh?”

“A proverb.”

“Oh. Yeah. Here—slurp—try one.”

Drinking beer and eating peanuts, Na Qingyang watched the other three finish half the plate of snails. He reluctantly picked one, face full of disgust, and sucked.

“Hmm… spicy and numbing. Not bad,” he admitted.

But after a second one, his attitude completely flipped. “Damn, why does it get better the more I eat? Damn it, why are they gone? Old Wang, go get another plate!”