HLM – Chapter 869 Setting Traps

The taste of the purple swamphen exceeded Wang Bo’s expectations; it was his first time eating this kind of wild chicken.

Back in his home country, everyone said wild chicken was delicious—naturally, far better than farmed chickens. But in Sunset Town, the chickens he had eaten were premium breeds improved by Pasture Heart, even rare varieties like Dongtao chicken, which were far tastier than ordinary wild chicken.

However, for making Beggar’s Chicken, the purple swamphen was more suitable. Its meat had a firm chewiness, a taste different from regular chicken, almost reminiscent of beef. Wild chickens had slightly more chicken fat than domesticated ones, and when roasted with fire, the fat would seep out and infuse the vegetables with flavor, giving the meat a hint of green vegetable aroma, making it even more delicious.

The little ones had been busy all morning and managed to catch over thirty chickens in total. Then, roasting and braising them together, they devoured them. Of course, it was mostly the little ones eating a lot. Take little Wang, for instance—he devoured more than ten braised chickens himself and still wasn’t satisfied!

Later, Atulu packed two for his wife and child. Licking the chicken fat off his fingers, he said, “The taste is as wonderful as a Christmas tree! Boss, tell me how to make this. I’ll guard the lavender fields for you and catch two purple swamphens every day.”

Wang Bo said, “This is simple; I’ll teach you later. Speaking of protecting the fields, you alone aren’t enough. Uncle Bing, Gerald, you set the traps, I’ll catch the flock!”

“No problem,” Uncle Bing replied immediately.

Originally, Wang Bo intended to kill or drive away the chickens. Purple swamphens weren’t a particularly rare species, but he changed his mind—he would capture them and raise them at the pasture or the animal farm. He also thought Beggar’s Chicken made with purple swamphen meat was delicious. If the meat were improved by Pasture Heart, it would taste even better.

Setting traps to catch wild chickens was simple. During Uncle Bing and Gerald’s outdoor survival training, this was a basic skill. They quickly set up a large number of chicken traps in the flower fields, working overtime. Wang Bo watched, gaining some knowledge in the process.

Seeing his interest, Uncle Bing explained, “This is a leg trap, suitable for adult chickens. This is a neck trap—dangerous, it can hang a wild chicken directly. This is a foot-hanging trap for catching small birds alive. This is a fishing line trap…”

He was using only basic tools: sticks, fishing nets, wooden boards, fishing lines, hemp ropes, rubber bands, and so on. The tools were readily available, but handling them wasn’t easy. Wang Bo watched for a while but still couldn’t assemble the traps correctly.

Seeing him fumble with bamboo poles, Uncle Bing walked over and said, “Come, I’ll teach you a simpler method.”

He pulled a rubber band half a meter long, twisted a small loop at one end with a long nail, then crossed his hands to quickly weave a loop with fishing line. After finishing, he hammered the nail into the ground, opened the loop, placed a thin stick in the middle, and said, “Now we begin designing the trap.”

“You first need to attach the lock to the rubber band’s small loop. For this, you need to find a wild chicken path. You know what that is, right? Wild chickens are cautious. They won’t wander randomly. If a route is safe once, they will tend to follow it later.”

“See, purple swamphens are heavy. They leave footprints. Place nails along these tracks to secure the rubber band. When they step on it, they’ll break the thin stick in the middle.”

“Then, because of the lever effect, the nails are lifted, and without the nails holding it, the rubber band snaps. The loop tightens and catches the chicken’s leg.”

After the demonstration, Uncle Bing smiled at Wang Bo: “So, Boss, isn’t that simple?”

Wang Bo looked completely baffled: “Simple? My brain’s in a fog right now. Sorry, could you show me that again?”

His DIY skills were weak, shaped by his upbringing. From childhood, his focus was on studying. Aside from helping at sea with a fishing net or rod, he had little hands-on experience. Before going abroad, working in Kyoto, his DIY experience was limited to changing light bulbs or assembling computers.

Uncle Bing shrugged: “It really isn’t hard. How about this, Boss—you try it first, and I’ll correct you. That way, you’ll learn faster.”

After Wang Bo attempted it, Uncle Bing looked at the messy heap on the ground with a dumbfounded face: “This… this won’t work. Let me teach you another way.”

Embarrassed, Wang Bo asked: “Did I do it badly?”

Gerald glanced over and said, “Boss, you’re confident. ‘Bad’? That’s extremely bad!”

Uncle Bing pushed his son aside and took Wang Bo to a part of the lavender field where the plants were sparse. He stretched a fishing net, propping it so there was half a meter of space between the net and the ground, then tossed in some water plants gathered from the lake.

“Okay, that’s it,” he said, patting his hands lightly.

Wang Bo asked in disbelief: “That’s it? We didn’t really do much, did we?”

Uncle Bing explained with a smile: “Purple swamphens are greedy wild chickens. They love to eat tender water plants. Using water plants as bait, when no one is around, they’ll come in to eat.”

“They’re so greedy that they’ll finish all the edible plants before leaving. Purple swamphens like to run, but like other birds, they’ll flap their wings after eating—this helps digestion.”

“But look—they’re now in the center of the net. When wild chickens fly, they hit the net. Our net isn’t sturdy, so the frame collapses and the net falls. Now, all the chickens inside can’t escape!”

Wang Bo asked skeptically: “Does that really work? What if they just walk away?”

“If wild chickens completely abandoned their instincts, they wouldn’t be wild. Don’t think of your opponent as a god—they’re not that hard to deal with,” Uncle Bing said, patting his shoulder. “Let’s observe first.”

This method of setting traps was simple, and Wang Bo quickly got the hang of it. The only tricky part was fetching water plants from the lake.

Half an hour later, forty or fifty nets were scattered across the flower field. Uncle Bing waved and had Wang Bo get in the car to wait.

Purple swamphens were cautious. After another half hour, they reached the edge of the field but didn’t enter. Wang Bo opened the sandbox, wanting to grab each one through it.

After more than twenty minutes, seeing no threat, the purple swamphens tentatively entered.

As a social bird, the flock’s movement was impressive—over a hundred fat wild chickens ran in together, almost like galloping horses.

Wang Bo felt a pang of heartache, because these wild chickens didn’t just eat—they dug with their claws, destroying many lavender plants!