VHBF – Chapter 94 The Village Bully Daddy (Part 5)

The members of the Old Qin family all stared with their eyes wide open—there were so much meat packed into the two fairly large baskets on the ground!

They were all wild game from the mountains, and not the rough kind like wild boar meat either. Lying right on top were two rabbits, one gray and one white. The white one had already been pinned down tight by the bamboo stake used to make the trap, stone dead. The gray one still seemed to have a bit of breath left; its hind leg was injured, and it was still struggling there.

Under the two rabbits, you could vaguely see that there was something else beneath them, crushed underneath. It was nighttime and the lamplight wasn’t bright, so it was hard to make out clearly.

In the other basket—this one was the extra-large kind Old Qin had woven himself, the kind normally used for hauling big items, sturdy and spacious—there was a foolish roe deer inside. It was meaty and big, so big that part of it was sticking out over the edge of the basket.

The Old Qin family was completely dumbfounded. Had Third Son gone up the mountain and looted the place?

Seeing his family’s reaction, Qin Yuli felt secretly pleased, but he didn’t say a word. He just crossed his arms and watched. Hei Mian, who had gone to close the courtyard gate, ran back in. He squeezed his way inside, took one look, and blurted out, “Holy crap—Third Uncle, where’d you get so much meat?”

His grandma smacked him on the head. “You’re so young—where’d you learn such foul language?”

Hei Mian muttered, “From Third Uncle, of course.”

Yinyin heard this and corrected him in her soft, milky voice, “Second Brother’s bad. Daddy doesn’t say rude words.”

Hei Mian: “……”

Qin Yuli had snuck over under cover of darkness, and honestly he hadn’t been holding out much hope. These days, life in the mountains was better than outside; those little critters would rather stay in the mountains to forage than wander out.

He’d just wanted to try his luck—on a whim, he went to check whether the traps he’d set yesterday had worked.

And when he looked—good heavens. Forget the rabbit traps; there were two fat rabbits kneeling there. And in the trap that the three brothers had casually dug on a whim, there was actually a foolish roe deer and a sleek, glossy wild chicken lying inside!

In this lifetime, Qin Yuli had never seen so much meat at once. In the past, no matter how capable he was, when he snuck into the mountains to catch game, with those crude traps—no bait at all—nine times out of ten he wouldn’t catch a thing.

Rabbits were the easiest to catch. They have a fatal habit: they like to walk back and forth along the same path. As long as you find the route those silly rabbits take and set a trap there, their eyes being on the sides of their heads means they can’t see what’s ahead. You catch one every time—out of ten tries, five or six hits; with good luck and proper preparation, you could even catch a whole nest.

This time he didn’t get many rabbits—just two—but they were fat, looking to be four or five jin each. That kind of meat was the most tender. Any bigger and it’d be tough; any smaller and there wouldn’t be enough meat to be satisfying.

As an expert in this area, Qin Yuli had a whole drama playing out in his head. Seeing everyone in the Old Qin family looking his way, he casually picked a chair with a backrest and sat down. Old Qin glared—that was his, the head-of-the-family’s exclusive seat!

That little brat!

Old Qin was just about to explode when Chen Qiuhua stopped him. Her eyes were fixed entirely on those two baskets of meat. During the day, her granddaughter had said she wanted to eat meat, and she’d been worrying, not knowing what to do—then Third Son brought back all this meat at night. It shocked her and delighted her. She secretly thought her granddaughter was blessed: she said she wanted meat, and meat appeared.

At this moment, the old lady was completely wearing her “good granddaughter” filter. She didn’t think too deeply about it. She always liked to pin every good thing onto her most beloved granddaughter anyway. As for Third Son, the so-called contributor—so what? A father getting meat for his daughter to eat was only natural.

It wasn’t until a series of events happened later that Chen Qiuhua finally came back to her senses, struck dumb with realization.

Chen Qiuhua said, “Third Son, hurry up and tell us—where did all this meat come from?”

In the entire Old Qin family, aside from the eldest, not a single person had that kind of “awareness.” No one even thought about handing this meat over to the collective so everyone could eat together.

They’d earned it with their own skills—why give it to others?

So without thinking of that at all, they lined up around Qin Yuli and started questioning him.

It had been so long since anyone had seen this much meat at once. Of course, wild boar meat didn’t count—wild boar meat was rough, and besides, it was shared by the whole production team. Not satisfying at all.

Qin Yuli crossed one leg over the other, in a great mood. He casually scooped up his bargain daughter, who’d toddled over on her short little legs, and sat her on his lap. Then he said, “Wasn’t the harvest bad this year? I figured Dad, Mom, and my brothers and sisters-in-law weren’t too happy, so I thought I’d try my luck in the mountains, see if I could bring something back to cheer everyone up.”

Chen Qiuhua thought, Why does this sound so much like what my little granddaughter said?
Her little granddaughter, with her sincere heart, had said that Uncle, Grandpa, Grandma, and Auntie weren’t happy because they had no meat to eat—and she didn’t have any meat either, so she was a bit unhappy.

When her three-year-old granddaughter said that in her soft, milky voice, Chen Qiuhua’s heart had felt like it was soaking in sugar water—soft and sweet. She’d almost patted her chest on the spot and promised to find a way to let her precious girl eat meat.

But when those same words came out of the father’s mouth, why the hell did they sound so fake?

A mother really did know her son best. Chen Qiuhua shot him a suspicious look, wondering if he’d secretly overheard his daughter talking to her and learned the lines from that.

She didn’t have the heart to expose him—she had to leave her granddaughter’s dad some face.

The others didn’t know about any of that. They didn’t know that the little dumpling had said those words before. Hearing this, they felt genuinely comforted. Zhao Yueya and Li Dilai, the sisters-in-law, even though they usually had their own little thoughts, couldn’t help but redden their eyes at this moment.

“Third Brother, you really thought everything through,” they said. “You’re so considerate—both your elder brothers can’t compare to you!”

The simple-minded Qin Guodong wasn’t upset at all. He grinned foolishly. “Little Brother, Second Brother’s wronged you all this time. Second Brother’s got a bad heart—I don’t deserve to eat this meat.”

Then he praised him again. “You’re really capable, little brother. How come I can never catch any game?”

The twin sons muttered, “Dad, you’d better just farm honestly. You can’t match Third Uncle’s skills.”

—nor his brains, either.

Qin Guodong: “……”

That night, Qin Guoshu worked overtime at the commune office until very late. The public grain had already been hauled away by the commune. He and several small cadres stayed behind for a meeting, racking their brains over how to get through this crisis.

They were all fellow villagers. No one had any reserves at home; everyone depended on the canteen for meals. If the canteen had no grain, what were they supposed to do?

It was an unsolvable problem.

Based on the statistics and calculations done by the few literate cadres, if they really wanted to just barely hold on like this, starting tomorrow the canteen could only cook one meal a day—and it would have to be thin gruel.

How could that possibly work?

These days, regardless of whether you’re young or old, male or female, as long as you can still walk, you have to go out and work the fields. With everyone laboring, how can you hold up if there’s no real food in your belly?

When it comes to the busy spring planting season the following year, you need at least one solid meal a day just to keep the members going—otherwise people would literally collapse from exhaustion in the fields.

When Qin Guoshu groped his way home in the middle of the night, he was surprised to find that his house still had an oil lamp lit.

Farm households lived frugally, saving wherever they could. Once night fell, lamps usually weren’t lit; people relied on moonlight to get things done—washing clothes and the like—then went back to their rooms to sleep. Lighting a lamp was not something done lightly.

And yet it was already well past midnight, and the lamp was still on?

As he walked into the courtyard and made a bit of noise with his steps, he heard two of his nephews’ wary voices from inside, asking who it was.

“Bai Mian, Hei Mian, where are your parents and grandparents? What are they doing inside?”

The twin boys had been given a task: squat by the main gate of the courtyard and keep watch, so no one would discover that their family had secretly brought back meat.

From adults to children, everyone was enthusiastic about eating meat. The twins were practically drooling just thinking about the fragrant meat, so they immediately accepted this “glorious mission” and diligently guarded the Qin family’s gate.

Grandma had said that no matter who passed by, if anyone came to their house in the middle of the night, they had to make a sound—and she emphasized especially that if their eldest uncle came back, they must say so!

Bai Mian clung to the gate and dragged at his uncle, not letting him enter, while the quick-witted Hei Mian dashed inside, shouting as he ran, “Uncle’s back! Uncle’s back!”

Qin Guoshu looked at his big nephew clinging to his leg, then listened to the noise coming from inside the house. The corner of his mouth twitched. In his whole life, he’d never been so warmly welcomed by his nephews—hugged and shouted at like this. Was this really a welcome-home ceremony?

Qin Guoshu said, “It’s the middle of the night—keep your voice down. Don’t wake the neighbors.”

He even felt a bit gratified inside. For the sake of the lives of the production team members, he’d been working overtime until midnight, racking his brains for solutions, worrying so much another bald patch had appeared on his head. He hadn’t expected his family to support him like this—his nine-year-old nephew actually knew to squat by the gate waiting for him to come home from work, and was so happy he was cheering.

Still smiling, Qin Guoshu patted the head of his big nephew Bai Mian, who was hugging him and refusing to let go, and said, “Bai Mian, you’ve grown up. You know how to be considerate of your uncle now. Next time I go to the commune for a meeting, I’ll bring you back a couple pieces of candy.”

Bai Mian: “……”

Why did he suddenly feel just a tiny bit guilty?

Bai Mian almost let his uncle go and enter the house, but inside, the moment they’d heard the noise, everyone had already gotten busy.

Luckily, Qin Guoshu came back late. If he’d returned earlier, even if Bai Mian had managed to block him for a short while, he would have caught them red-handed dividing up the spoils (the meat).

There were about three hours between the time the meat was brought back and Qin Guoshu’s return—more than enough for the Qin family to deal with it.

Although the weather had cooled a bit these past two days, it was still far from winter temperatures. Healthy men could still go out to work wearing just undershirts.

Young women only needed a single long-sleeved layer.

In this kind of weather, meat wouldn’t keep. If it were left until the next day, it might spoil—and handling meat in broad daylight wasn’t safe either. The courtyard walls were low; it would be easy for people to see.

So Chen Qiuhua made the decision with a single clap of her hands: they’d process it while the eldest son was still out.

Several adults got to work—Chen Qiuhua and the old man, the eldest and second daughters-in-law, and Comrade Qin Guodong. Without a big iron pot, they heated water in clay jars, skinned and washed everything clean, then used the vegetable knife Chen Qiuhua had secretly hidden in a pit dug under the bed to chop the meat into chunks or strips.

As for the hero who’d brought the meat back, Comrade Qin Yuli? He didn’t have to work. The official reason was that he needed to take care of the child. Chen Qiuhua waved her hand and agreed—her granddaughter was only three years old, after all; she did need watching.

So Qin Yuli sat there holding his daughter, leisurely observing everyone else work. If it weren’t for the “get-out-of-jail-free token” (the well-behaved little girl) in his arms, Chen Qiuhua and Old Qin would have wanted to grab a shoe sole and smack him right then and there.

If you didn’t want to work, fine—at least hide in your own room! Sitting there like you’re watching a grand show while others huff and puff at work—wasn’t that just begging to be beaten?

They were all skilled workers. Even with that much meat, it was all processed within three hours. The reason they had the two kids keeping watch at the gate wasn’t just about finishing the processing—it was also about figuring out how to store it and how to eat it.

Afraid the eldest son might come back late and see something, Chen Qiuhua ordered the second son and his wife to quickly clean up all the bloodstains and fur in the courtyard, bag up the scraps and bury them in the backyard, planning to secretly take them to the back mountain to dispose of the next day.

They also sprinkled lime powder on the ground in the courtyard to get rid of the smell. Only after feeling that the cover-up was pretty thorough did they move the processed meat back into the house.

They discussed how the meat wouldn’t keep, and how there wasn’t enough coarse salt at home—should they secretly go to the town tomorrow to buy some for curing the meat?

“Rabbit meat is tender—best eaten fresh. And that wild chicken, it’s great for soup. Put it in a clay pot to stew tonight, and by morning it’ll be ready to drink.”

“As for the roe deer meat, let’s cure it. We don’t have much salt, so just rub on a thin layer first. Hang it in the room where the old man and I sleep; we can hang a few strings in the storage room too. Save the meat—later on, every few days we can slice off a few pieces to give you all some nourishment.”

“Everyone hear that? This kind of luck doesn’t come every day. We can’t eat all this meat at once—save it and eat it slowly. The commune took away most of the grain today; who knows, one of these days the canteen might stop serving food. You’d better stay alert—when that time comes, this meat might just be lifesaving meat!”

Qin Yuli opened his mouth, wanting to say that he was the one who’d hunted that meat, and that he wanted to give it to his little kid to eat. The day before yesterday he’d eaten half a bowl of that kid’s gruel, and it still didn’t sit right with him. He wasn’t about to take advantage of a three-year-old—this meat was hunted to pay her back!

What Qin Yuli had been thinking back then was: damn it, I’m this capable—if I’m going to do something, I ought to do it big. I’m a father, after all!

Hearing his mother’s analysis, his heart sank a little and he stopped talking.

When it comes to life itself, everything else is nothing—hardly worth mentioning.

They were still rubbing salt onto the meat while chatting when there was some commotion in the yard. Hei Mian came panting over, huffing and puffing. “Grandma, Eldest Uncle is back!”

Chen Qiuhua’s mouth twitched, her face immediately darkening. That unlucky son of hers!

The meat was just about finished being salted, so she told the two daughters-in-law to move quickly—carry it into the house and hang it up, and take the wooden basins that had held the meat inside as well and hide them.

The windows had been opened early to air things out. Since the meat wasn’t being cooked, it didn’t give off much of a smell anyway.

As for the chicken, it had long since been tossed into a clay jar with water and set in the kitchen, with a few slices of old ginger added. Ginger drove off the chill and removed any gamey smell. There weren’t any fancy spices at home, so this was just right.

Chen Qiuhua had planned it all perfectly. The chicken was already stewing—could they possibly give it away now? This was what you called turning raw rice into cooked rice. No matter how capable her eldest son was, he couldn’t snatch the meat right out of his old parents’ mouths and take it to share with others, could he?

This wild chicken was lean and only weighed about two jin in total. Who could it even be shared with?

Chicken and rabbit meat were both small portions—letting the eldest son know about those wouldn’t be a big deal. At most, he’d mutter a few complaints.

As for the roe deer meat, by the time they took it out to eat, it would already be cured. What could Qin Guoshu possibly do then?

The Qin family had their chickens clicking away merrily. Meanwhile, Qin Guoshu, the one being kept completely in the dark, felt quite good about himself. He patted both nephews on the head and praised them a couple of times. When he stepped into the house, he was a little surprised—no one had gone to bed yet. Everyone was sitting in the main room, and when he came in, they all looked up at him.

Qin Guoshu always felt there was something unspeakably strange about those looks. Almost… disdainful? He shoved the feeling to the back of his mind, smiled, and asked, “No one’s asleep yet?”

“Dad, Mom, you should go to bed early. It’s your son who’s unfilial, making you wait up so late.”

Chen Qiuhua kept a wooden face, grabbed the old man, turned around, and went back into the room, leaving her eldest son with nothing but the back of her head.

Qin Guoshu: “……”

Qin Guoshu felt that his parents still loved him. It was rare for him to work overtime this late. These past couple of days, the grain issue had him run ragged. It wasn’t just him—every day, commune members came to him crying and complaining. He’d been frazzled and irritable. His parents must have seen all this; since he hadn’t come home, they’d waited up for him half the night.

Once back in his room, Qin Guoshu was still sighing emotionally. “Our parents are a bit biased, sure, but in the end they still love me, their son. Otherwise, how could they wait up for me like this? That’s what being their own flesh and blood means.”

Zhao Yueya, pregnant, rolled her eyes behind her husband’s back, thinking that being a fool wasn’t such a bad thing either.

How had she gone blind back then and chosen a man like this? Sure, he’d become a brigade leader at a young age—but what a pity his brain had a hole in it.

A good night’s sleep.

The Qin household got busy early the next morning.

Following his mother’s instructions, Qin Guodong got up before dawn, gathered all the scraps and waste from processing the meat, disguised the bag, and quietly carried it off into the mountains, where he dug a pit and buried it.

On his way back, he ran into an old man who’d risen early. “Second Qin, you’re up so early?”

Qin Guodong wore an honest, simple smile. “Morning to you too, Uncle Wang. We get up early so we can have something to eat. My mom says the early bird catches the worm.”

Coming from an honest man, those words carried not a shred of guilt. He truly believed it—wasn’t he up early precisely so he could eat meat, even if it meant destroying the evidence?

The old man sighed. “You really are hardworking. Your brother Gouzi was hit hard by the grain situation. He’s still sleeping soundly now—says it’s better to sleep yourself to death than starve to death.”

They exchanged a few more pleasantries. The old man watched Qin Guodong’s sturdy back as he walked away, full of envy. What a good kid!

He used to think Second Qin was dull, honest, and going nowhere, and he’d even been proud that his own son was more capable. But now the old man felt that for farmers, it was better to be honest. Smart people thought too much, were easily influenced by the outside world, and easily crushed. Honest folk were a bit slow, didn’t have that extra string in their heads. They went about their days cheerfully, full of energy, living well in the present. That was far better than going around with a long face.

Qin Guoshu was stunned first thing in the morning. The whole family was beaming, each person holding a chipped little bowl, gathered around the table, eyes fixed eagerly on the matriarch as she ladled out soup and meat.

They used to not even have breakfast—now there was chicken soup to drink and chicken meat to eat! He wouldn’t have dared dream of it!

The children were beside themselves with joy, chirping noisily, holding their little bowls up high, asking Grandma to give them meat and that golden, golden stewed chicken soup.

Before going to bed, Chen Qiuhua had deliberately wrapped several layers of cloth tightly around the seam of the clay jar’s lid. Even though the chicken had been stewing, not a trace of smell had leaked out. Precisely because nothing had escaped, the moment it was opened, the fresh, rich aroma of chicken soup filled the entire room.

The two daughters-in-law had closed the doors and windows early on, making sure no smell drifted outside. On top of that, the Qin house sat at the edge of the village, far from other homes, so the scent wouldn’t travel that far anyway.

Qin Guoshu’s legs practically wouldn’t move. He opened his mouth and asked where this had come from.

Chen Qiuhua rolled her eyes and told his wife to explain it to him.

When that was done, she said, “If you don’t feel like eating, then get lost to work and don’t meddle in other things. If you want to report and expose your own mother, go ahead—it’s up to you. Anyway, your father and I have worked hard our whole lives and haven’t had much meat to eat. Having a bowl of chicken soup before we’re caught is enough to satisfy us.”

That settled it. What else could Qin Guoshu do? Just as Chen Qiuhua said, he couldn’t possibly make things difficult for his elderly parents over two jin of meat.

With his mother’s words going that far, even he felt ashamed.

He hadn’t been capable enough to let his parents eat meat—could he really begrudge other brothers for showing filial piety to their parents?

And since it really was only a few jin of meat, Qin Guoshu didn’t say another word. With reddened eyes, he said, “Dad, Mom, your son isn’t that kind of person.”

Chen Qiuhua was fairly satisfied with his reaction. She ladled him a bowl too and told him to have some.

“Eldest son, it hasn’t been easy for you either. Managing the commune members’ food, drink, and even their bodily needs—at just thirty-something, you’re already worrying yourself into an old man. Here, have some nourishment.”

Qin Guoshu was instantly moved to tears. His mother cared about him this much! She’d stayed up waiting for him last night, and today she was giving him chicken soup and saying such heartfelt things. She really was his own mother!

Zhao Yueya couldn’t bear to watch. She touched her belly and silently made another wish to the heavens—that her child, when born, wouldn’t be like his father.

She looked at her cheap little niece, sipping soup in small mouthfuls, eyes squinting in pure satisfaction. Pretty, obedient, soft. She thought: although this child wasn’t exactly well-liked, if her own son could take after her in looks and temperament—aside from gender—that would be pretty good. Good-looking, sensible, smart—that would be ideal.

After a meal of chicken soup, the Qin family rinsed their mouths and wiped their lips, then headed out to work in the fields, brimming with energy.

The autumn harvest was over. The work in the fields now was nothing more than turning the soil, pulling weeds, and catching insects—just enough to keep the land from going barren. Then, come next spring planting, they’d have fertile soil as nourishment and enjoy a bumper harvest and full bellies!

The other commune members were all listless. With no grain left in the team, no one had any motivation to work. Life felt hopeless. On top of that, there wasn’t much work to begin with, so they did a bit here and there, heads hanging low.

The Qin family, however, looked completely different today.

They were glowing with health, hoes on their shoulders, full of vigor and high spirits—more energetic than anyone else!

That same old man who’d run into Qin Guodong in the morning even said to the people beside him, “This Qin family has pretty good ideological awareness. The whole family is diligent and spirited. We should learn from them. One day at a time—leaning on the land, could it really let us starve to death?”

“Living life properly is the right path. We’re not at that point yet.”

Old Uncle Wang was a clear-headed man, one of those who told the commune members stories about fleeing famine back in the day. He’d seen too much despair in his life and had learned to take things lightly. He felt the Qin family’s mental outlook was excellent. If they truly did run into a year of famine, they’d need exactly this kind of mindset to survive. Otherwise, if your fighting spirit was gone first, how could you wrestle your life back from the heavens?

Qin Guoshu’s mood was good that morning too. After his mother’s encouragement, he was full of fighting spirit.

He thought to himself that he couldn’t just give up like this. He needed to make another trip to the commune—and while he was at it, go to the county seat to take a look, see what the situation there was like.