I open my eyes on a warm brick bed. Very familiar faces everywhere. My dad Tom, mom Martha, older brother Frank, and second brother Greg, all glaring at me. The room is built from logs patched with mud and dung. Smoke from burning corn cobs fills the air. The year is 1977 and I am back. My name is Jack. Somehow I got reborn. In my past life, I died old and completely alone in a hospital bed. Throat cancer slowly ate my body until I could not speak a single word. These exact same relatives circling me right now used to hover like starving vultures. They were just waiting to tear apart the wealth I spent decades building. I built my wealth the hardest way possible. Surviving the brutal wilderness. The Siberian mercenary then trading goods to build a whole empire. These people just wanted to steal every single coin I owned. But before all that, before the money and long lonely years, Lucy was there. Lucy, the city girl who came to our remote mountain village. We married early that year and she got pregnant pretty quickly. Her fragile frame meant the work team completely cut her out. No more work points or extra food rations. Feeding her fell entirely on my shoulders. Even though I barely earned enough for myself. Martha heard a psychic say Lucy was having a girl. That was exactly all it took for my mom to completely explode. You screamed to split up the family. My parents, Frank, even Greg, nobody wanted to share their food with a pregnant woman who could not work. So, they held this emergency family meeting just to kick me out. In the brutal mountain winter, I clearly remember my first life. Lucy and I moved into a broken down wooden cabin deep in the forest. Just two days later, a heavy blizzard crushed that cabin. Lucy and our unborn child froze to death. I was out mountain hunting trying to find her anything to eat. When I returned, her body was stiff and cold. My heart completely died that day. I never loved another woman after her. And the absolute worst part was that Greg sealed Lucy's fate. When the snow first started falling, Lucy dragged herself back to the family house, begging them for help fixing the cabin. Greg demanded $300. He asked a pregnant woman standing in a brutal blizzard to pay $300. Yeah, that was my own brother. And now here he is kicking my leg, ordering me to stop faking sleep. Something inside me snapped. I grabbed Greg by his throat and slammed him hard against the wall. He could not breathe or fight back. He never expected this terrifying strength from me. His wife and Martha screamed. Frank and my dad tried ripping me off, but all three of them could not move me one single inch. I let him go myself. Killing him would feel amazing, but I would just become a fugitive. I could easily vanish into the woods and cross the border. But Lucy could not. She is carrying our child. I had to think much smarter. As I tat back down, staring at them coldly. I said to forget about splitting the family. Let us write an official paper cutting all ties for good. D it, register it at town hall, and end this crap. I will never be part of this family again. Silence fell over all of them. Around here, families divide their property all the time. But nobody ever completely cuts ties with their own blood. The whole village would call me ungrateful, a total traitor, and a ruthless monster. I did not care. Fate gave me a second chance. Now I will do the impossible to keep Lucy alive. These people will deeply regret what they did to us, every last one of them. My dad, Tom, screamed about cutting ties, his face turning completely red. He yelled he would never lose his pride, even if I threw mine away. If I thought they owed me, I could take 10 extra pounds of corn and leave. I did not blink. I knew exactly how to push their buttons. I said I was writing the paper tonight, whether he agreed or not. I warned him that if he refused, the work team distributes grain soon. Lucy and I would be two extra mouths to feed. That grain gets divided per head, not by who worked the hardest. Those exact words work their magic. Frank and Greg immediately started tugging at Martha's sleeves, complaining about their children and wives desperately needing that food. Greg's wife was pregnant again, and Frank's kids were growing fast. They absolutely hated the idea of sharing a single grain of wheat with Lucy. Martha was the true boss of this house. She actually had a soft heart, but only towards Frank and Greg and never with me. She always blamed me because she nearly died giving birth to me. After that, she completely lost the ability to have more kids. In a place where every family has seven or eight kids, having only three sons was a true disgrace. She dumped all that blame squarely on my shoulders. Fine. Cut ties with him. Martha agreed, squeezing out fake tears. She added that she regretted ever giving birth to this ungrateful animal. The farther away he is, the better. I found a yellowed piece of paper and sharpen some charcoal to use as a pencil. I wrote the document fast, then made Tom and Martha press their thumb prints right next to their names. But once the village chief registers this, we become total strangers legally. Then Martha ordered me to leave that exact same night. He warned me against taking anything from the house. Night had already fallen over the mountains. It was dozens of degrees below zero outside, throwing me into deadly frost and calling it justice. I nodded. I understood. Lucy and I would leave right away. From today on, we're strangers. I left the main house and headed to the west wing, a rough side room built of packed dirt. Lucy and I slept on a wooden board right by the cooking stove while Greg and his wife hogged the warm brick bed on the other side of the wall. Since I'm leaving this place, Greg gets the whole room to himself. That's a given. But the second I stepped outside, the candle light flickered across the paper door of the west wing, and my feet instantly turned to stone. The rage I felt while choking Greg completely vanished. I just didn't know what to say to her. How do you face a woman you brutally failed in a past life? Then the door swung open and Lucy peaked out. Her face was incredibly pale. She wore a floral cotton jacket washed until the color completely faded. She asked Jack, "Did your parents finally divide the family?" she asked in a faint voice. It felt exactly like someone plunging sharp needles into my chest. I thought about every single mistake I made the first time around. I was always working outside, never actually staying home. But whenever people bullied her during those brutal work shifts, I never once defended her. When my own family treated her like trash, I just told her to endure it. She was just a girl from the warm southern coast thousands of miles from home. And yet, she never complained once, not about the bitter cold, my smoking, the absolute filth, or even how much she missed her parents. She kept quiet about her family due to their bad political status. She just didn't want to cause me any trouble. The woman this amazing, if I failed her again, I'd be worse than trash. I told her, "Lucy, forget about dividing the family. I cut ties completely. pack up all our things. We're leaving tonight. Martha told me to leave everything behind, but I'm no idiot. I've been earning work points since I was 14, barely eating, giving everything to this house. Those things belong to me. Plus, I needed tools to fix the cabin in the woods, firewood for heat, and basic cooking supplies. Not to mention, Lucy was pregnant. I wasn't about to let her leave with only the clothes on her back. Whatever fallout comes from taking our stuff, I'll handle it later. Lucy's delicate eyebrows knit together in sheer panic. She expected a normal family split, something she'd heard about since moving north. But cutting ties entirely down south where she's from, that practically meant wiping your name from the family records forever. Meanwhile, back at the main house, the family gathered around the brick bed like absolutely nothing happened. Greg's wife, Gwen, was rubbing medicine on the angry red marks I left on his neck. Frank suggested someone should go check on me just to make sure I wasn't stealing anything, but Greg had zero intention of coming anywhere near me. You tried acting tough about it, whining, I'm the injured one here. Send somebody else. But I knew the real truth. Was terrified. Remembered how easily I pinned him against that wall. Then my father Tom spoke up. He won't take anything. That boy's been incredibly stubborn since he was a kid. Whenever we told him to eat less so Frank and Greg could have more, he'd refused to eat a single grain of rice. His mother told him to leave with absolutely nothing. Knowing him, he'd walk out totally naked just to prove a point. They all nodded. Nobody checked on me. That was their fatal mistake. Inside the West Wing, I moved like an invading army. I took everything useful. The pots, pans, bowls, sickles, hoes, and blankets. Lucy just watched me with wide eyes. She had never seen me act like this before. I grabbed the thick cotton quilt Gwen was secretly saving to make a new year outfit. Lucy noticed and whispered, "Jack, that belongs to your brother's wife." I almost laughed out loud. He gets to make new clothes while we don't even have a decent blanket. That cotton actually came from our own share of the rations. They took what belonged to us. It was the harsh truth. Lucy and I had exactly one set of clothes between us. But whenever it got slightly warm, we'd take off the padded jacket, wash it, and just wait for it to dry. When it got freezing, we'd throw it back on over everything else. Lucy liked keeping things clean. So, every single time she washed her clothes, she had to wrap herself in our thin blanket and hold the wet fabric over the stove with a stick. Meanwhile, Gwen had enough extra cotton to sew an entirely new outfit. I knew exactly where that cotton came from. The family was stealing our share the entire time. Everything here is ours, Lucy. Don't feel guilty about any of it. And I swear once we finally leave this house, I will never let anyone mistreat you ever again. I'm going to spoil you rotten. Her pale cheeks actually turned pink. She had never heard me talk like that before. I packed everything into three massive bundles, weighing close to 400 lb in total. Ever since I reincarnated, my body was ridiculously stronger than in my past life. I tossed the bundles onto a carrying pole and hoisted them up like they weighed absolutely nothing. Lucy stared at me like I was a total stranger. Then she glanced over at the stove and whispered, "Jack, you forgot your pipe and tobacco pouch." My hand immediately reached out on pure instinct, but then I froze midair. My past life smoking gave me throat cancer. That exact pipe was what finally killed me, but not this time. So, I slowly pulled my hand back. I'm completely done with smoking. It's terrible for me. Plus, you're pregnant now. I won't let you or the baby breathe in those toxins anymore. Lucy did not fully grasp the whole secondhand smoke thing, but she definitely got my point. Back in her old hometown, folks always said you could measure a man's love for his family by his ability to quit smoking for good. Ears instantly filled her eyes. All that quiet fear she carried about our future just completely vanished right in front of me. I gently held her small, cold hand, and we walked quietly past the courtyard gate. I unlatched the metal lock. Its sharp echo pierced the cold night air carrying straight to the main house. Inside, Greg heard it and breathed a huge sigh of relief. With me finally gone, his life was about to get incredibly comfortable. He grabbed Gwen by the hand and headed straight back to the West Wing, not even bothering to fetch his sleeping kids from the main house. Frank grumbled about it with obvious jealousy. Tom was just about to say something when a massive scream ripped right through the night air. Someone screamed for their parents, crying that that animal Jack had robbed them blind. Meanwhile, the forest ranger cabin sat by the treeine not far from the village. Every single settlement around these massive mountains was built right at the foothills. The locals always survived off the bounty of this land. The cabin was originally built for a ranger to stop illegal logging, but the village never actually bothered hiring anyone, so the place just sat abandoned. Anyone could use it freely. I pushed that broken door open and glanced inside. Bitter winds were howling right through every crack. The place was pitched in absolute darkness. just a miserable dirt bed, a cooking stove, two small stools, and some empty liquor bottles left on a wooden shelf by solitary drunks. Lucy gripped my sleeve tightly, her voice shaking as she said she was scared and asked for a light. That was when I noticed something bizarre. She saw nothing in this dark, but I saw everything. I could easily make out every single tiny detail in the room. My vision had completely leveled up right alongside my physical strength. Just another little gift from my rebirth. I kept the secret to myself, found an old oil lamp with a bit of fuel left inside, and quickly lit it up. The warm light filled that tiny room, and suddenly it did not look so grim anymore. I told Lucy to sit down and rest she had walked enough today. I told her to let me handle the fire, clean the bed, and sort the blankets. I just desperately wanted to give her every bit of warmth possible. I wanted to make up for everything I failed to do in my first life. I had a lot of work waiting for me tonight. The lighting the fire to heating the brick bed to patching the wooden door and organizing our supplies. This humble little cabin was our warm home now. In a few days, I would hit up the local forestry station and volunteer as a ranger. That simple move would make this cabin officially ours. The living two full lives taught me exactly how to plan ahead. Lucy sat quietly on a wooden stool, watching me with soft eyes. She was never used to this gentle version of me. Truth is, we never married out of love. She was a city girl sent down to the countryside, totally unable to survive out here alone. I was the unloved, unlucky son in my family, the kind of local outcast no village girl would ever agree to marry. Lucy's family had a terrible political background, so literally everyone avoided her. That was the only reason a guy like me ended up with an amazing girl like her. Beautiful, highly educated city girl paired with a rough country boy. Just two desperate people trying to scrape by and survive. But tonight, she watched me sweep the dirt, boil paste to patch the door with newspaper, and start the fire. Some hidden shift happened between us. I worked hard right until midnight before this freezing cabin finally felt like a real home. I had her lie under the heavy quilts while the brick bed slowly warmed up. Then I stripped off my sweaty clothes and wiped down with a clean towel. New body of mine was lean and solid, packed with muscles gleaming under the dim lamp. Lucy's face instantly turned red. It looked away like a shy bride. She told me to dry off and come to bed before I froze, claiming she was a bit dirty. I told her to let me clean up first. A real shower was impossible tonight, but from now on, I am washing every single day. You must have thought I had turned into a totally different person, quitting smoking, wanting to stay clean, and actually being gentle and considerate. None of that matched the old me. When I finally climbed onto the brick bed, I told her to scoot over to the warm side near the stove. I would take the freezing edge by the wood wall. I said I had to wake up early tomorrow and didn't want to disturb her sleep. There's a pretty weak excuse for a huge brick bed like this. Nobody wakes the other just by getting up. The real reason was much simpler. The stove side stays toasty all night while the far edge turns freezing cold. This basic little cabin just wasn't insulated like the village houses. Just wanted her to have all that warmth. With her face still buried deep in the quilt, she faintly whispered that I was being too nice to her. Her body was shaking hard. She was crying silently. She came up north at 16, spent three brutal years cutting timber at a logging camp, then got transferred to our village where nobody ever showed her any kindness. He married me at 20 just hoping to find a little warmth. Instead, she got a whole family that despised her. I never protected her, never made her feel safe. Now, for the very first time, someone was fully taking care of her, holding her like absolute treasure. No wonder all those tears were pouring out. I never told her to stop crying. A real man should not say something like that. I just wrapped myself around her, pressed my face into her hair, and held her incredibly tight. I softly promised tomorrow would be better. She turned slowly, hugging me back, breathing in my scent. She murmured my name, agreeing tomorrow would indeed be better. Then she fell fast asleep in my arms, smiling. Next morning, sunlight flooded the stone bed. I blinked awake. Lucy was still out cold beside me, breathing soft and steady. My chest finally stopped hammering. Honestly, I was terrified I would wake up and realize this was all just a fleeting dream. Living out in the woods has its perks. At least there is no rooster screaming its head off at the crack of dawn. I slipped out of bed in dead silence. Grabbed my clothes and axe, a pocketk knife, and a slingshot. The mountains were completely buried in snow. None of the villagers would dare wander up here this time of year, which meant the woods were practically crawling with wild game, snow hairs, wild feeasants, and those totally brain dead deer that just stand there staring at you. I knew for a fact the biggest blizzard of the year hits tomorrow. So, I had to stock up on food today. Tomorrow, I wasn't leaving Lucy's side for a single second. I refused to let the past repeat itself. My goal right now was pretty simple. Bag some wild birds to make a rich soup for Lucy. Something to build her strength back up. If I could snag a deer, too, even better. I knew this forest inside and out. In my past life, after Lucy died, I spent an entire year hunting and wandering among these exact trees. I even sold my catch for cash. The government buying station paid about 80 cents a pound for deer meat. Absolute daylight robbery. But down in the city's black market, a 60lb deer could easily fetch 80 bucks. That was exactly how I made my first real fortune back then. This time around, my body was so much stronger. My eyesight way sharper. Beckon I stepped outside, I spotted a line of little oval indents in the snow. Snow hair tracks. These guys turn pure white in winter, practically invisible against the ground, but they can never hide their tracks. I followed the prince to some dry grass and found a small burrow. The rabbits are pretty sharp though. They always dig two or three escape routes for the winter. I circled around and found a second hole about 6 ft away. Definitely connected. I packed a snowball real tight, hurled it straight into the first hole and bolted for the second. The hair bolted right toward me. The exact second its ears popped out. My hand shot down and clamped shut around its neck. The one hard squeeze and it was over. Thing probably weighed a solid 10 lbs. Perfect fat catch. I would skin it later for sure. make Lucy some warm fur gloves. Her hands were always freezing cold, covered in those painful frostbite cracks. Then my luck really kicked in. Just up ahead, I spot a cluster of black dots moving through the trees. Black feeasants, the top tier kind. Locals called them northeast wild black chickens. Down in the city, your average regular chicken went for about a buck each. These black feeasants, they easily went for three or four bucks a pop. The meat was just incredibly rich and tender, packed with nutrients, which was exactly what Lucy needed. I loaded a small pebble into my slingshot, locked onto the nearest bird, and let it rip. Direct hit to the head. The bird dropped sideways into the snow without a single sound. Blood pulling slowly from its beak. I honestly couldn't believe my aim. I only went for a body shot. The head shot was pure bonus. Coming back in time didn't just boost my raw strength. My coordination was on a totally different level now. I fired three more times in rapid succession, dropping three more birds before the rest scattered. four black feeasants and one snow hair, all in under 30 minutes. I turned on my heel and headed straight back to the cabin. Lucy needed her breakfast and I had to clean and prep all this game first. Soon as that was done, I would jump right into making lunch. As for showing up to work in the village, I scrapped that idea entirely. Working with the production team only earned you 10 work points a day. Each point was worth maybe 4 cents. That meant 40 cents for a brutal day of manual labor. Even on a good month, you would cap out at 15 bucks. The seriously hardcore worker might scrape together $150 a year. Most families couldn't even manage that. We had this one woman in the village marry as her husband was totally paralyzed from the waist down. She had a 4-year-old girl and owed the production team nearly 2,000 bucks. All just to buy medicine and keep her family breathing. Two grand in 1977. That was more than 10 solid years of wages. Meanwhile, half an hour out here just got me four birds I could flip for 15 bucks in the city. Any idiot could do that math. Later that morning, down in the fields where the village guys were doing their usual winter grind, clearing brush and digging trenches, the team accountant, a guy named Lee, finally noticed I was missing. I hadn't missed a single shift all year. Well, except the day I took Lucy to the clinic and the day we actually got married. So, Lee marched straight up to my old man Tom asking where I was. But before Tom could even blink, Greg jumped in. Absolute venom dripping from his voice. Jack is dead to us. Do not ever ask this family about him again. The guy doesn't even exist anymore. He just puffed his pipe, putting the pieces together in a split second. A major family fallout, not his problem. He would just have to tell the team leader so they could split the year-end grain quotas. But Greg was far from done. He had been boiling mad all night long, getting angrier by the hour. Gwen kept screaming at him non-stop over that quilt I took, the one she hoarded to make new clothes. Greg totally snapped. He ended up beating her senseless with the sole of his boot until she couldn't even get out of bed. So now he was desperately hunting for someone to blame. This wasn't just some little family spat. It was a total blood feud. After cutting ties, that thief robbed our entire house. I want to drag him to the commune and publicly humiliate him in the streets. Tom turned red with anger. He was trying to handle this quietly. Family scandals are supposed to stay buried behind closed doors. But Greg kept screaming the story for everyone to hear. Shaming a thief in the streets was a pretty brutal punishment back then. Dragged through town while people scream insults. When the thief falls into disgrace, his entire family gets pulled right into that very same mud. Tom completely lost control over Greg. Martha had spoiled the boy rotten, so Tom rushed to find Frank, hoping his eldest son could bring some sanity to this absolute madness. But he was completely too late. Greg already went to drag me to headquarters and file an official complaint. Meanwhile, at the cabin, I knew nothing about this total chaos. I was simply having the absolute best morning of both my lives. Lucy was awake when I returned from hunting, straightening blankets on the stone bed. The second she saw me, total shock hit her face. She thought I left for regular work. I told her commune work was over and held up my catch with a huge grin. Four black feeasants and a snow rabbit. We live off the land now. Her eyes went totally wide, she said at the logging camp. Grown men chased these exact birds and rabbits through the woods all the time, and yet they never managed to catch a single one of them. I started prepping millet porridge, then boiled some water so I could pluck and clean these birds properly. I planned to roast the rabbit and save its fur for Lucy's winter gloves. Two birds would be cooked just for our meal. The one fried, the other boiled into a rich soup for Lucy's health. The two remaining birds were going straight to the commune purchasing station. Prices there were completely dirt cheap. But the county town was 5 miles away, and I was not wasting two hours running back and forth. Not today. But while the soup boiled, the rabbit roasted, and the rice simmered, I kept moving. I twisted wire and ropes into simple traps to set up outside. Then I dragged heavy wood to reinforce the cabin walls and roof. The blizzard hits tomorrow, and this place needs to hold. I won't lose Lucy to a collapsed roof. I refused to let that happen again. Never again. Lucy sat nearby, patching my old fur hat. The stove crackled. Delicious food smells filled the entire room. For a few hours, it felt like we were the only humans left alive. Then suddenly I heard clear footsteps crunching the snow right outside. Captain Kong, you must arrest them and expose them to the entire village. We haven't seen thieves in this town for actual decades. That was Greg. Shut up now. Greg, you don't decide if he's a thief. That is my call to make and mine alone. You gave me a headache this whole way. Captain, the ranger cabin is right up ahead and someone is definitely inside. Someone is inside. All right. Damn. Whatever they are cooking smells absolutely incredible. Hearing this, I put down the ladle and took a deep breath. that last night's problem finally reached my doorstep. Suddenly, the militia kicked the cabin door wide open. Two guys with semi-automatic rifles walked in behind Captain Kong, the village team leader. I didn't expect guns, but I read the room fast. The militia were just on a routine winter patrol, nothing more. Kong only dragged them along to give himself a scary, intimidating vibe. This is the northeast in 1977. Gun laws barely exist, and men carry their rifles around like basic walking sticks. The Kong went on the offensive immediately, asking if I thought I own this cabin, calling it commune property, but I fired right back at him. This cabin belongs to the municipal forestry station, not your team. You have zero right to step in and decide who lives here. Was trying to frame me for seizing public property, a charge severe enough to drag me into a brutal public shaming session. That his logic was completely off and he lacked the guts to call the forestry station for proof. So he flipped his approach instantly demanding I explain all the stuff since my brother claimed I stole it from the family. Greg stormed in right behind him, scanning the room like a maniac. Chicken soup on the stove, roasted rabbit, wild birds hanging in the corner. Sheer greed twisted his face. So Captain Kong, every single thing in here is completely stolen. Pots, blankets, tools, the birds and rabbit. Everything is stolen straight from our house. He shot me a wicked smirk and asked you hit me last night, right? Well, someone is here to discipline you today. The absolute nerve of this guy, claiming that the wild game I hunted this morning was just stolen property from his house. I wasn't worried. In my past life, I built a massive business empire. I knew exactly how to tame people way more dangerous than Greg. If he wanted to play dirty, I could outplay him 10 times over. Hunted the rabbit and birds myself this morning, I replied calmly. As for the rest, I took them from my own home. Captain Kong, does the law punish someone for taking things from his own house? Greg exploded with rage, screaming, "You cut ties yesterday. You don't have a family anymore. You are just a stray animal. I didn't hesitate. I stepped forward and slapped him hard. Used only half my strength, but he still collapsed to the dirt. Kong and the militia men completely froze in their tracks. Because no matter the time or place, nobody ever dares to meddle in raw family disputes. Calling your older brother an animal before strangers. I replied, "If I am an animal, so are you. Our parents share that very same breed. Consider this slap a lesson on behalf of mom and dad." Lucy stood right behind me, watching every detail. And from her look, she was totally enjoying the show. Greg and Gwen had bullied her relentlessly back in the West Wing. Now it was payback time. Greg scrambled up and screamed at Kong that I hit him. Claiming we cut ties, he called it assault. Kong just narrowed his eyes. He wasn't here for Greg. He despised my whole family. His real goal was dragging me to the town hall for a public shaming that would humiliate our whole family. Severed ties or not. No family in this village had cut ties in centuries. It was an absolute scandal. Kong asked me if the rumors were actually true. He asked if I had really cut ties with the family. I knew his exact intentions. Confirming the split meant taking my things would be considered outright theft, so I played dumb. I said cutting ties requires a document with everyone's fingerprints. I added he could escalate this to the county level. Without that paper, he had nothing. Greg screamed that I was holding the document. It demanded they search me. Kong stepped right up. Then his eyes slid toward Lucy and I caught that filthy look. A filthy starving look. I had seen men look at her that way before. Lucy was easily the most beautiful woman in the entire district. Men kept their distance purely because of her family's terrible political status, that their desire for her never faded. Kong hoped I did not have the paper, giving him a perfect excuse to search Lucy. My blood boiled, but I couldn't hit him. Touching the captain meant fighting the militia immediately. I burned Kong's name into my memory. His turn would come. Using words instead of fists, I told Captain Kong to think carefully before searching. The people are the masters here. The law fully protects my rights. I confidently asked if he really wanted to proceed. The severance paper is not contraband. If you can search me because Greg claims I have one, I can search you for hiding $10 in your pocket. Besides, I never went to school. No one in my family ever stepped inside a classroom. Greg claims I wrote a legal document. Do you honestly believe that? Kong stared at me totally bewildered. He could read, but he could not keep up with logical debates. Back in the 70s, farmers lacked any legal awareness. Village leaders acted like the law itself. And nobody objected because ordinary people did not know their rights. But I was not ordinary. I had seen the world, built massive corporations, dealt with men a thousand times smarter than this captain. And right now, I had him completely lost. Lucy watched from behind with wide, stunned eyes. He had never seen this side of me. The sheer confidence, the sharp tongue, the absolute refusal to back down. She was clearly captivated. One of the militia men actually agreed with me. He told Kong I was right. The paper wasn't contraband and they couldn't just search me. Those two soldiers had no clue why they were dragged here. They expected a real thief but found themselves stuck in petty family drama. The Kong finally backed down. He was not exactly scared of me, just terrified of what a stubborn man might do when pushed to the edge. Everyone in the village knew I was stubborn as a mule, quiet, hardworking, swallowing every insult. But a cornered guy with nothing to lose is dangerous. Kong had been a leader long enough to know when people might snap. He told Greg this was a family matter and threatened a public disciplinary session if he wasted their time with this nonsense again. The moment Kong's crew left, I turned to Greg and ordered him out. He couldn't beat me physically or verbally. Holding his swollen cheek, he swallowed his pride and ran. Lucy locked the door and sat me on the brick bed. She said she was confused, Jack, and asked if we had totally severed ties. She noted I told Kong no document existed. Confirming we were fully separated, I pulled the paper from my jacket and unfolded it. every name and thumbrint was there. Lucy examined it with obvious surprise. She knew nobody in my family could write more than their own name, that the document was written carefully in very clear, organized language. I told her I taught myself from newspapers. Marrying a smart woman like her made me want to catch up. She accepted that without pressing further. Then she asked the big question. Was I really planning to submit this to the town hall? Because if I did, Greg would keep coming after me. She really was brilliant. Smirking, I pulled out a charcoal pencil and told her to watch. I wrote a date on the paper. December 6th, 1977. Today's exact date. Lucy covered her mouth and just laughed. You figured out the game instantly. I took everything from the house on the night of December 5th. When I was still legally family, taking things from your own home is not stealing, but the severance paper was now dated the 6th. Of today, I was out of the family. Yesterday's property transfer was completely legal. Laughing, she called me a terrible person. I pointed out that bad guys get the good women, then leaned in to kiss her. She tried dodging, asking if we were supposed to eat lunch now. I planted a kiss on her lips anyway. It had been decades since I kissed anyone. Her lips were soft and my senses completely melted into that moment. After lunch, I had important work to finish. I needed to hit the municipal office, register as a volunteer forest guard before Kong used that cabin against me again. I had two black feeasants to sell at the trading post, but leaving Lucy alone in the woods, not happening. She was pregnant. Some massive beast could wander by. Besides, locking her inside a cabin all day just wasn't healthy. I came from the 21st century. I knew pregnant women needed exercise, fresh air, and real social interaction. So, I brought her along to the village carrying an extra feeasant I planned to cook for dinner. Lucy nervously asked where we were going. Villagers were already shooting her weird looks. We were heading to marry. Mary was the woman with a paralyzed husband and a 4-year-old little girl. She stole from the communal kitchen just to keep her family alive. Honestly, our village had a pretty decent setup compared to others, a shared canteen feeding workers year round. The upside, the workers ate incredibly well. The downside was that leftovers for non-workers were never enough. For Mary's household, where a single woman provided everything, the system was absolutely crushing. She had zero choice but to smuggle Raian's home. Otherwise, her husband would starve and her daughter wouldn't make it. When Lucy and I finally reached Mary's house, I saw exactly what I expected. Om Mary was splitting a single loaf of cornbread in two. Bigger half went to her husband Sam, lying deathly still in bed. The smaller piece was for four-year-old Daisy. Bare walls but flawlessly clean. Mary stayed strong even as her life crumbled. She welcomed me. Come and Jack, have a seat. Even offered to fetch me water. Mary was always warm like that. We had some history. The honest before Lucy showed up, someone actually tried setting me up with Mary in a so-called support marriage. They'd move in, help raise Daisy, and care for her paralyzed husband Sam. It was very much alive. I almost agreed. My mom Martha convinced me marriage just meant finding a woman to cook and have kids. Then Lucy transferred here from the lumber camp. The exact second I saw her, everything shifted. I hung the clean pheasant on Mary's wall, telling her to make soup for Sam and Daisy. Then I got straight to business. Lucy's pregnant and she's incredibly weak. I can't always be there. I need someone totally reliable watching her. I'll pay $1 a day, plus meals for you, Sam and Daisy. Lucy immediately panicked. You feared the town's gossip. A woman with terrible political status hiring a caretaker like some wealthy lady. It whispers everywhere. I gently stroked her hair. Lucy, it is 1977. In a few short weeks, it'll be 1978. Things are about to change. Those secrets you're terrified of will soon become your biggest pride. I meant every word. In my past life, after returning from abroad, I searched for Lucy's parents down south. Both of her parents were university professors. Her grandparents owned businesses before everything changed. Further back, her family tree held major government officials. 30 years from now, that background sounds impressive. Right now, it's a curse. But reform is coming. Though, when changes hit the mountains, Lucy could hold her head high again. Mary hesitated. She desperately wanted that meat. They hadn't tasted meat since last New Year when the team slaughtered two pigs and handed her one single pound of fatty pork. But skipping work to watch Lucy meant Captain Kong would definitely come after her. Kong had harassed Mary for years. She was a true beauty and refusing to cave to him was exactly why he made her daily life an absolute living hell. I figured out a quick workaround. Tell everyone you're visiting Lucy as a friend. Besides, with a blizzard coming in the next 2 days, nobody is working anyway. So, Mary grasped her reality. She was beautiful, but no man would accept a support marriage. Considering the $2,000 she owed the production team to covering her family's meals, plus paying a daily dollar meant she could pocket that entire dollar as pure savings. All right, Jack. I will do it. Leaving Lucy with Mary, I rushed straight toward the municipal office. First stop was the trading post, selling those two black feeasants. They handed me three measly dollars. Three bucks for birds worth six. I cursed those scammers on my way out, but I needed instant cash and couldn't afford a trip to the county town. Next, I hit the municipal office to submit the severance paperwork. The official procedure went smoothly. Then, I headed straight for the forestry station. Applying as a volunteer forest guard. The chief agreed instantly. The volunteering meant zero pay and all the responsibility. So, they were absolutely thrilled anyone even wanted the job. They actually seemed terrified I'd change my mind. While I was there, I also filed for a hunting license. The forestry officials were actually pretty grateful for my ranger application. They handed over the license without any hassle. Most local hunters do not even know licenses exist, and nobody enforces the law anyway. But I already live this life once. I played it smart. With that ranger certificate and hunting license in hand, nobody can legally touch me. Not Kong, not Greg, nobody. I walked out of that station clutching both documents, grinning like crazy. The station chief even offered to notify the police just in case I ever want a firearm permit later. But what an amazing era to regress to. Before heading back to the village, I hit the supply store and spent almost every penny I had. Started the day with 10 bucks, added three more from selling feeasants, bringing my total up to $13. By the time I finished shopping, I had exactly $2 left. picked up 20 pounds of white flour, 5 lbs of pork, eggs, sugar, dry goods, and some vitamin C tablets from the clinic. I also grabbed some fabric, 2 feet of a floral pattern, 2 feet in white, plus a little surprise for my wife, Lucy. The white flour is an absolute luxury no one in the village can afford. Even Kong's family eats cheap cornmeal mixed with potatoes. Though, Lucy was pregnant. I was never feeding her scrap food again. The sky turned dark by the time I reached Mary's house for Lucy. Heavy gray clouds pressed against the treetops, swallowing the sun. A blizzard was definitely coming. I handed Mary a pound of meat and 5 lb of flour, warning her the storm was coming. The canteen will not open. I told them, "Stay home. Do not hunt for food. Do have enough here." And Mary tried refusing, but I insisted. I knew exactly what she would do the second I left. Trade that meat for neighbors cornmeal just to stretch it out. The real food was pure luxury for them. That that was her business. On the walk home, Lucy anxiously asked if I was actually going into the mountains to hunt. At the logging camp, people vanish into the forest every month. Those mountains are crawling with tigers, bears, wolves, and wild boores. An old saying up in the northeast goes, "The wild boar is deadliest, then the bear, then the tiger." I promised her I would be careful and avoid any stupid risks. Don't the baby come first. Suddenly, Lucy froze beside me. Kong and Greg stepped around the corner, marching straight toward us. I spoke before they could. I asked Greg, "Since when are you Kong's dog?" "This guy bullied our family for years, yet you follow him like a loyal puppy. Aren't you ashamed? Greg ducked behind Kong, screaming at me. The clerk confirmed. You filed to sever ties. You robbed us, so we are dragging you to jail. I felt slightly bad for their sheer stupidity. Just slightly. Let's go, I told Lucy. Talking to these idiots lowers my IQ. Kong stepped to block my path, hands planted on his hips. He wouldn't let me pass. I just stared at the dark sky. Snow was closing in fast. I needed to go reinforce our cabin. I had zero time for this garbage. Listen to me. I took my things yesterday and filed the separation paperwork today. Yesterday I was still family. Today I am not. Are you seriously accusing me of stealing things I took while still in the family? That is like using past dynasty laws to execute someone today. Go verify the documents date at the town hall if you don't believe me. The Kong turned to Greg demanding to know if there was a date on the paper when his parents left their thumbrints. Greg just blinked blankly. I can barely read so I don't know what it said. He just called it a separation document and told my parents to sign. Yong's face darkened with sheer fury. His partner in crime didn't even know what he had signed. In my past life's modern world, if I met someone as gullible as Greg, I could have used his identity to pull massive loans. The boss Kong, are we finally done here? By the way, the clerk probably mentioned this, too. I am officially a forest ranger now. That forest outback is under my protection. Catch either of you there and I report you for stealing state timber. Now, a forest ranger has zero authority to actually arrest anyone, but I have every right to report illegal logging, and my word counts as hard evidence. Kong spat on the ground as Lucy and I walked past. I heard him muttering about his wasted effort. I never looked back. Those two weren't even worth the satisfaction of a good beating. Though by the time Lucy and I finally reached the cabin, the snow was already starting to fall hard. I stacked the supplies in the corner, brushing the snow off my clothes. But once this storm passes, I'll hire the village carpenter for some decent furniture and a fence. He's Mary's brother. I'll just ask her to introduce us. Lucy nodded softly. Then she asked something that made my chest ache with pain. She asked quietly, "Jack, before the new year, I want to write my family. Next time you visit the municipality, could you buy me paper and a pen? A pencil is totally fine if a fountain pen is too expensive. Just save the leftover money for stamps." "You brought up her family earlier today." After years without a single letter home, she couldn't stop thinking about them. I just smiled and pulled out the parcel I'd hidden. "That is why you are my wife," I told her. Look at this. Her jaw dropped in shock. Inside were books, the writing paper pens, the small mirror, and a jar of face cream. I explained we missed this year's university entrance exam, and she couldn't take it pregnant anyway. But next year, you will take that test. The national exam just got brought back this year. The rules let everyone join in, young and old, with any education level. Lucy came from an intellectual family. Going to university was her biggest dream. Her face fell as she asked about her family background. I told her, "The village is just falling behind, Lucy. just focus on studying and leave the rest to me. I couldn't tell her everything. I couldn't explain that within one year, the whole class system would be completely abolished. I didn't even know if her university professor parents had their old jobs back yet. In my past life, I found them years later, but they never forgave me for letting Lucy die. This time is completely different. She quietly held the mirror and face cream. Spent so much. The mirror was 50 cents and the cream was 20. You should save this money. I almost burst out laughing. He had never once questioned how I spent money before. Now she was managing our household budget. You finally started seeing herself as the lady of the house. From now on, every cent I make goes straight to you. Decide how to spend it. I held her face with both hands, planting a massive kiss on her forehead. Gross, she muttered. You got your spit all over me. Blushing, she gently pushed me away, taking the pen and paper to the brick bed to write her letter. Visiting Mary actually worked. She was much more lively and outgoing now. I watched her chew the pen, scratch her head, or cry a little, and crumple a draft to start over. She was only 16 when she left home. After years of absolute silence, she didn't know how to word it. I left her alone and started working. I reinforced every weak spot in the hut, especially that wall that collapsed in my past life. I braced it with thick wooden pillars, then started cooking, though I brought pork potatoes and white flour. Tonight's menu was twice cooked pork with shredded potatoes, vinegar sauce, and steamed white flour buns. Everyone else in the village just ate boiled or steamed potatoes and cornmeal every day. Absolutely nothing else. I taught myself to cook during my years in Siberia. I desperately missed home food and had zero choice. I wasn't a professional chef, but my home cooking was solid. Plus, I never skimped on the oil and spices, which made a massive difference. Jack, she asked, "Are we trying to go completely bankrupt? That's nearly 2 lb of meat for one meal." Lucy stared at the dishes anxiously. "Relax, I told her. Soon you'll eat like this every single day." You tore a bun in half, handing me the larger piece. She could only eat half. I could devour four buns plus both dishes and still end up hungry. That was life in the 70s. Nobody in the countryside really knew what a completely full stomach felt like. She frowned bitterly at the heavy cost right up until that first bite of pork hit her tongue. Her eyes went wide. Jack, she said, this is absolutely incredible. I honestly thought you could only make steamed potatoes. This is easily better than anything I have ever eaten. My cooking wasn't the real secret here. After four years of cornbread, boiled potatoes, and pickled cabbage, even sliced cucumbers and sauce would taste like actual heaven. I kept that to myself and just dropped another slice of pork onto her bun. Eat up. You aren't just eating for one anymore. Never forget that. Outside, the freezing wind was howling and snow was coming down fast. That this hut was perfectly solid. Now, every few hours, I went outside to clear the snow off the roof. The wall that killed Lucy in my past life was braced with pillars. I was here and strong. Let the storm come. When Mary finally starts coming over to help take care of Lucy, I need to teach her some new recipes, too. I refuse to let them go back to plain boiled potatoes the second I head out to the mountains. December 7th, 1977, heavy snow day on the old calendar, and the mountains definitely kept their promise. I woke up early, bundled up tight, and slowly pushed the door open. The snow was already 3 ft deep. Thankfully, our door opened inward, which was the only reason I could even get outside. I grabbed my shovel and pickaxe, then practically rolled myself straight into the deep snow. I literally rolled walking was just impossible. I leveled a patch of ground simply to find a spot to stand on. That was when I spotted something weird. Near a big tree by the hut, a strange yellow lump was poking out of the snow. The road deer. Its head was buried straight into the snow, exactly like an ostrich. I laughed out loud. This is exactly what happens during heavy snowfalls. The wild animals can't find food, so they panic and do incredibly stupid things. This deer shoved its head deep into the snow, probably running from something, and nearly suffocated itself. I dragged myself across the drifts and yanked its head free. The poor thing's face was half frozen, but it was still alive. It probably weighed around 50 or 60 lb. I struggled pulling it back to the hut, tying it securely to the front pillar. 50 lb of road deer sells for $70. Two weeks of anxiety, finally over, but something still felt wrong. Road deer don't bury their heads like that unless they're completely terrified. Something spooked this animal. I quickly scanned the area. Nothing. Whatever did this, it was still out there lurking in the woods. I climbed the ladder to start shoveling snow off the roof. It piled up fast, already several inches deep. The storm showed zero signs of stopping. Massive snowflakes the size of plum blossoms kept stinging my face. I shoveled until the roof was almost clear, then started heading down. That was the exact moment I spotted them. 20 or 30 black dots moving across the pure white snow, getting closer. Wolves. In winter, these smaller groups merge into massive packs. 20 or 30 is just a medium pack. Some mountain groups easily top 100. Even a master hunter with a rifle would never survive that. Villagers around here fear wolves way more than bears, more than tigers or even wild boars. Lucy just woke up inside. I heard the door creek open. I screamed, "Lucy, drag the deer inside and lock the door right now. Not open it no matter what you hear." She didn't ask questions, just yelled, "Okay." She untied the deer, dragged it in, and slammed the door. I scrambled back up the roof. Running inside would have been the absolute worst decision possible. The wolves would completely surround the cabin and break in to slaughter every breathing thing inside. Up on the roof, I became their only target. Though better to stay up here armed than let us all get trapped inside a wooden box. I had a shovel, a pickaxe, a belt hatchet, and my knife in a pocket slingshot. No bow, no rifle. With real firepower, I could have wiped out half the pack before they even reached the cabin. Then I noticed the icicles. long jagged ice spikes hanging right from the roof edge. People in these mountains die from falling icicles every single year. They were nature's daggers and I had an entire roof full of them. I scrambled along the edge, snapping off every icicle I could reach and stacking them right next to me. The pack closed in fast. The first wolf slammed into the ladder and started climbing. Fur caked in ice, fangs totally bared. I gripped the shovel handle with both hands and swung it straight into that wolf's face. The flat steel blade smashed across its snout, nearly cracking its skull. It yelped in pain and tumbled backward into the snow. Inside, Lucy saw shadows dart past the window. Then came the terrifying howls. She backed into the far corner of the brick bed, clutching a kitchen knife, shaking from head to toe, but she never screamed, never even called my name. She trusted me completely. The snow fell harder. I was practically turning into a snowman and them into snow wolves. But the raw blood lust burning between us melted away the cold. I screamed into the storm, "Bring it on, all of you. I need good wolf pelts for a new coat." But when it comes to pure viciousness, I've never lost to anyone. And I'm not about to start losing to some random wolves. My yelling worked. Every wolf sniffing the cabin walls turned around and glared up at me on the roof. About 20 gray wolves crept through the snow, eyes locked on me. Meanwhile, their alpha just watched from a distance. The battlecared monster with three claw marks slashed across its left eye. I crouched down and grabbed an icicle. The one throw it pierced the closest wolf right through the shoulder blade. The beast collapsed, thrashing wildly as dark blood soaked the white snow. Mel of blood made the rest completely feral. I hurled every single icicycle I had. The wind ruined most throws, but three more hit their targets. Plus, the wolves I already bashed off the ladder using my shovel. Seven were already down and completely out of the fight. That mattered more than you'd think. Out of 20 wolves, only 12 or 13 were actual fighting males. I had just wiped out over half their fighting force and barely even broke a sweat. The roof gave me every advantage. high ground, clearsized lines, and the wolves had to climb a ladder to reach me. The alpha realized the exact same thing. He let out one low howl, and the entire pack started backing away. A few tried dragging their wounded away, not to save them, but to eat them later. Wolves never waste food, but this crossed a serious line. I almost died fighting these beasts, and now they wanted my prey. I pulled my knife and threw it hard. The blade sank straight into a shewolf's eye. She shrieked and stumbled backward. The remaining pack absolutely panicked, bolting toward the mountains. I knocked on the door. Lucy, it's completely over. They're gone. I need to clean up out here before I come inside. She hummed a quiet reply. I could hear the tension fading from her voice. I grabbed the wood chopping blade and walked over to every wounded wolf that couldn't move. One strike each, quick and totally clean. Five dead wolves in the snow. I skinned all five right there. The meat was practically worthless. Just a few cents a pound, and the buying station wouldn't even take it. I'd gift it to neighbors. The pelts were a completely different story. The perfect wolf pelt might sell for a few dozen bucks at the state station, but across the border in Russia, easily two or 30 hundred rubles. Difference was massive. I refused to sell these pelts for cheap. I'll just stash them until the right buyer shows up. Meat buried in a snow pit. Area scrubbed. Blood washed off my skin. I finally stepped inside. Lucy was throwing firewood into the stove. The road deer was still bleeding in the corner. Back. I heard lumberjacks say road deer sell for a premium. Once the snow stops, you should take it to the county. You thought it was a pet since it was still breathing. I almost laughed out loud. I kept it alive for one reason. Live deer weigh way more than dead ones. I wanted it to eat, drink, and gain a few extra pounds before selling. That is exactly the plan. Alive brings better money. Lucy nodded. Seriously, great. With that cash, we can really upgrade this place. Jack, we need that fence. She had every right to panic. Today, the wolves attacked. Tomorrow, it could be a bear, a tiger, or a wild boar pack. The second this snow stops, I will drop you at Mary's, then hit the county to sell this deer. I will use the money to hire Mary's brother to build us a solid fence, make some furniture, and add a room. This cabin is just too small. I had the whole thing mapped out in my head. This harsh winter would never stop me from building a real home. The blizzard finally broke the next morning. Deep in the woods, the snow reached my waist. I dug up the five-skinned wolf carcasses and dragged them toward the village. I planned to give the meat away. The second I hit town, people were whispering. Old Shia's roof collapsed. His eldest son was crushed. Every other house survived perfectly fine. Must be heaven punishing them for that ungrateful third son. Shut up. He is coming. What is he dragging? Dogs? No, not dogs. Wolves. Five-kinned wolves. God, my hearing has gotten so sharp since my rebirth. I easily picked out conversations from 50 ft away. I pivoted, marching straight for the family compound. 20 or 30 villagers crowded the courtyard. The east wing's thatched roof caved in when a rotting beam snapped under the heavy snow. Inside Frank's wife was wailing. Frank, what do I do? Door the only provider here and I am pregnant. If you cannot work, we starve. Martha snapped. My son is not dead yet. Crying like that, hoping he dies so you can run off. Then Martha spun and attacked Kong. If can you send a horse cart to take my son to the county hospital? Kong refused. Would gladly watch the whole family die. The snow is taller than the horses. Nobody passes. They sent Greg to fetch the village doctor. Martha flat out refused that total fraud. Last year he called a sprained ankle broken. That girl could not walk for 6 months. My son's legs are crushed. Keep that idiot away. Hong suggested a flatbed cart. Someone could drag Frank to the county hospital on foot and make it before dark. Every eye in the courtyard snapped to Greg. With Frank down, only two men were left. Dad Tom, who was over 50 and too weak, and Greg Greg did not hesitate. I am not going. Stop staring. I will die of exhaustion halfway there. His brother's legs are crushed and he refused to pull him. That is Greg for you. Selfish to the bone. I stood by the gate watching the whole play. Five dead wolves at my feet. I saw enough and turned to leave when Tom spotted me, son. You came back. You did not forget us after all. Please help your brother. Drag him to the hospital. I am begging. He grabbed my arm, refusing to let go. The elders chimed in. He is family. Grudges cannot last forever. Everyone stared. They knew I was the only one strong enough to haul Frank through that snow. They looked at Martha and Greg. Both looked away, unable to meet my eyes. I spoke. I will take him and I will pay for his treatment, every cent. But the family gives me this house. Martha lunged you animal. Your brother is dying and you want our house. Get out right now. I named a price they would never accept. That was the point. I turned to Tom. Dad, you aren't bad, just weak. If life gets too rough with this crazy woman, just divorce her. I won't abandon you over some town hall paperwork. But I am saying this in front of everyone except for you. This whole family could drop dead tomorrow and I truly wouldn't care. I'm stood there completely broken. A guy who spent his entire life bullied and sidelined by his wife, kids, and neighbors. way too scared to ever defend himself. I felt bad, but I cannot save a man who refuses to save himself. I picked up my wolves and left. But I checked Mary's place first. He already heard about the roof collapsing. She sighed. 20 years they treated you like absolute trash, Jack. The whole village knows your parents were awful. Nobody will ever blame you for walking away. I handed her two skinned wolves. Told her to take the remaining three straight to her carpenter brother. I needed him to build an extra room onto the cabin, plus some odd jobs. I'd pay $50 minimum if he actually did good work. Then I asked her to watch Lucy at the cabin while I hauled the road dear to the county town. Mary actually tried rejecting the meat at first. She felt guilty taking so much. I told her straight up Lucy and I never eat wolf anyway. If she didn't take it, I just toss it in the snow. That got her moving. Waist not want. The elders always said wolf meat tastes great if you slow cook it with enough spices. I walked Mary to the cabin, ensuring Lucy was completely comfortable with her. Then I hit the road, dragging the tied up deer behind me. Those two women had plenty to talk about. Mary had been pregnant before, so she could teach Lucy everything her mother-in-law should have taught her. "Martha never gave Lucy any advice at all. She just kicked her out into the freezing cold." "Karma is real," I muttered, smiling down the snowy trail. "Frank was completely paralyzed now. That meant one less worker for the family. His wife was pregnant, too, obviously. Two fewer hands helping out. The relatives who tossed us out were totally collapsing while Lucy and I leveled up every day. We finally beat her crisis. The blizzard that killed her in my past life was history. No major disasters would hit the village for years, but people still caused trouble. That was exactly why I needed a gun. Took me two solid hours dragging that deer through the snow to reach the county town. The second I walked in, everyone just stared. A village kid in patched up clothes dragging a live road deer right down Main Street. An old guy walked up asking my price. I said, " $70." He shook his head, complaining it was pricier than pork. It walked off. Then a guy in a gray suit stepped up, agreeing to pay the $70. His name was Daniel. He was from a neighboring county on a business trip, and he needed something flashy to serve his guests for dinner that night. The guy clearly had cash and did not haggle. I walked the deer to his county guest house, and he ran upstairs, coming back with $70 cash and never bothered asking what he did for a living. A man traveling with that kind of cash in 1977 was definitely a big shot. Prying would only annoy him. We were just strangers making a deal. Keeping things simple is always better. With $70 in my pocket, I went shopping, grabbed my needed supplies, gritted my teeth, and blew $21 on gifts. Two bottles of premium liquor for $16, five packs of high-end cigarettes for $5, and 10 cheap packs for two bucks. None of this was for me. I had quit smoking and was dead serious about it. This stuff was strictly for the police station officers. The forestry chief had already promised to pull some strings for my firearms permit. Showing up with good booze and fancy smokes meant getting that permit lightning fast. Once approved, I could finally buy a real hunting rifle. $21 was a massive amount of cash, but owning a gun up in these mountains has a value you just cannot measure. Getting the weapon permit was way easier than I expected. Thanks to my hunting license, the forestry chief's recommendation, and my ranger status, the cops handed me the purchase certificate without even touching my gifts. I just needed to buy the gun first, then come back to finalize the permit. Buying a weapon in 1977 was ridiculously simple. You walk into the supply store with your certificate and pick what you want. No semi-auto or fully automatic weapons on the shelf, which sucked. But a gun is a gun. The problem was, I was basically broke. That double-barreled shotgun I really wanted cost $150, which was completely out of reach. So, I dropped $30 on a break barrel air rifle and two bucks on 10 tins of lead pellets, 50 rounds per tin, 500 rounds total. That'll last me quite a while. And air rifles don't even need permits anyway. So, I decided to save the purchase certificate for later when I could afford the heavy firepower. Smart and simple. Having that rifle on my back, even a small one, made me feel whole again. A million times better than a slingshot. Heading back home, I crossed paths with my father, Tom. Walking the opposite way with a town clinic doctor. He was obviously bringing the doctor to treat Frank. Tom saw me weighed down with bags, rifle slung over my shoulder. He opened his mouth to speak, then just closed it. I could clearly see regret flashing in his eyes. But regret fixes absolutely nothing. He just stood by while Martha drove the family straight off a cliff. The difference between him and Martha was basically the difference between someone swinging a club and the guy holding the target steady. I made it back before noon. The entire path from the village to the forest was completely covered in timber drag marks. The carpenter had already started working. His name was Martin, Mary's younger brother. Snow made hauling timber much easier. Tree trunks glided perfectly across the frozen ground. Though Martin was standing out front, clearing snow, precisely marking where the new room would go and digging fence post holes. I yelled out, "Putting in some serious effort there, brother." He smiled genuinely, leaning on his shovel. Then he answered, "Are you kidding? You gave me three whole wolves before I even started working. The Kong forced me to build a cabinet three months ago. Promised extra work points and never paid up. You're an absolute saint compared to that scammer. It tossed him a pack of smokes, the premium kind. 20 cents each. Same brand the village officials smoke. His face lit right up. I told him to keep the smoke outside, not in the house. Got to protect Lucy's pregnancy. He nodded fast, promising he wouldn't come inside much. Your wife needs her space. Exactly the attitude I wanted from him. I'd pay Martin incredibly well. even share the finest liquor and smokes once the job was totally done. But he had to know his limits. Don't ask questions. Keep your mouth shut. Just do the work in total silence. Inside the cabin, smoke drifted from the chimney. The whole place smelling like food frying in grease. Mary stood by the stove. Lucy sat on the brick bed sewing new clothes from the fabric I bought in town. Though hyperfocused, she never looked up, terrified of pricking her finger. She looked absolutely stunning. Just a few days of real food and face cream, her skin had totally regained its glow. She tucked her short hair behind her ears. Even wearing those ragged old clothes, she had this charm and beauty that simply didn't belong in this era. I promised myself I'd bring back premium fabric and modern outfits on my next trip to town. I told Mary to cook extra so she could take some home for Sam and Daisy. Mary tapped the rice pot on the side stove. Your wife already thought of that. She told me to cook for seven people. Said you'd be starving after running around all morning. Lucy kept her head down, the needle moving steadily in her hands, but I caught that slight smile. sat down and gently pulled the sewing away. Let Mary handle the clothes. She has way more experience. You're still a beginner. Mary, could you sew a new outfit for me and Lucy? The leftover fabric is enough for a little jacket for Daisy, too. I'll pay you $2 per outfit. Mary agreed instantly. She owed the production team almost $2,000, and Daisy would need school fees in a few years. Every dollar mattered. I looked back at Lucy, her careful organizing of the cabin, the food she planned for everyone, that quiet, deep thought behind every single action. I was the happiest man alive. I would never forget that. Lucy puffed her cheeks and frowned a bit. So, you think my sewing isn't good enough. She was only teasing and I absolutely loved it. I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, gently rubbing her cold hand. Now that you know my terrible opinion of your sewing, quit exhausting yourself. I'm right here. Let me handle things. Then I asked about the letter I offered to send it this morning, but she said it wasn't finished. But right then, the whole truth hit me. It wasn't about the writing. She was just scared. terrified of her parents' fury for marrying a simple country boy behind their backs. So scared of what they'd think about her pregnancy. In this era, city folks completely look down on country people and women carry the heaviest burden of all. Within a few short years, when educated youths head back to the cities, guys will abandon their village wives and kids without a second thought. And women who married local men would be stuck there forever. Lucy's absolute biggest fear was probably that she had already married without getting her parents' blessing. I asked to see the letter. She handed it over without much hesitation at all. You didn't keep secrets, but I folded it up without reading a word. This is just between you and your parents. This is your own business. I'll mail it next time I hit town. Her eyes went wide. Docked, she whispered. You can't just do that. I knelt down and met her gaze. Lucy, some things must be faced. But whatever your parents think of our marriage, I won't let you carry this burden alone. We're husband and wife now. We face everything together. Her tears fell again. Ever since leaving her family home, she cried so easily. Before she was completely numb, just trying to survive. No emotions, no joy or sorrow, just drifting through each day like a pale ghost. But now she's truly living. She can feel happiness. She can feel fear. You can cry, laugh, and throw tiny tantrums. That alone was amazing progress. I wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. I whispered not to cry since Mary was still here. Mary set the food down, mentioning she needed to head back and check on Sam and Daisy. I gave her a big bag of puffed rice candy for Daisy and premium smokes for Sam. She smiled warmly, organizing everything in her basket, then left carrying the fabric, quilt, and leftovers balanced on a wooden carrying pole across her shoulders. Lucy watched me quietly, clearly lost in thought. The old me was just a stubborn mule who never spoke a single word. But now I'd become tactful, knowing exactly how to treat Mary so she would look after Lucy with all her heart. If Lucy hadn't seen my actual hunting skills with her own eyes, she probably would have scolded me harshly for spending cash this freely. Outside, Martin finished his smoke, sniffed his clothes thoroughly, then took off his outer jacket in that freezing cold. He even scooped snow into his mouth to wash away the smoke smell completely before stepping into the cabin. He noticed those thumb-sized holes in the wolf carcass's wounds from ice spikes and understood exactly what kind of man I was. A guy who solos five wolves with ice spikes isn't someone to mess with. Mary also warned him I protect Lucy fiercely and everyone knows Lucy loves things clean. Soon as he stepped inside, I told Martin to eat. He tried playing humble. He offered to go home for meals instead of eating my food. I shut that nonsense down immediately. You work here now. Sending you home to eat would completely ruin my reputation. Things just do not work like that here. We have rules dating back a thousand years. When you hire a craftsman, you feed him. No exceptions whatsoever. Martin just laughed and started eating. All right. All right. Besides, your wife uses real oil. Her cooking easily beats whatever I have at home. Let us map out the yard together after lunch. It will mark the fence, but I told him to eat first. I'll show him the plans after lunch. I already sketched out a full layout for the land. That design was stuck in my head for days. Anyway, the next few weeks are just about shoveling snow. The blueprints could wait for another meal. Meanwhile, Lucy just sat quietly on the brick bed, watching me handle absolutely everything. The carpenter, materials, even seedlings. We locked eyes for a moment, then she looked away, smiling faintly. She was finally starting to believe that tomorrow would actually be better. After lunch, Martin and I laid out an action plan. We would build a temporary fence using that waste deep snow to secure the wooden posts in place. But once the ice melts in spring, we will do it right. We'll dig actual deep holes for the posts. That new storage shed stays just a wooden frame for now. No mud walls, no insulation. You simply cannot mix mud and straw in this kind of bitter cold. It will build the furniture at home and bring it over later. Everything will be ready before the new year. I spent the afternoon helping him shovel snow. Though by late afternoon, I sent him home and told Mary to return to the cabin. That blizzard left behind perfect hunting conditions. The heavy snow made animals desperate for food and easy to track. I'd been dying to test my new rifle all day, but waited since animals move more at night. Soon after, Mara showed up looking quite cautious. She asked why I called her over so late, Jack. I knew exactly what she was thinking. Out here, a man calling a woman at night only means one thing, but she knows I love Lucy. I told her I'm hunting tonight and need her to stay with Lucy. I told her to lock up after I leave. Lucy reacted until day hunting is fine, but do not go out at night. Mary agreed, saying, "Even the best hunters avoid those mountains at night, Jack. Even ignoring the wild animals completely. That bitter cold alone could kill you. But they don't understand my body. I barely feel the cold, and my night vision is entirely flawless." Darkness was exactly like daylight to me. Plus, hunting at night lets Mary stay with Lucy without worrying about her kids, Sam and Daisy, since they would be asleep. But Lucy stubbornly held her ground. So Mary finally suggested a compromise. Go hunting if you want, but take a partner. Two men watching each other's backs is the safest bet. Fine. If it helps Lucy sleep peacefully, I will take a partner. I asked who she recommends. She said, "Liam." Liam, the guy everyone treats like the village doormat. Dad was a veteran hunter. He dragged Liam up those mountains since he was a kid. But after his dad died in the woods, Liam quit hunting, entirely settling for feeding horses and pigs as the village herdsman. His true reputation came from something else entirely. There's a local custom called assistance marriage. A man moves in with a struggling family. He provides for them. Sleeping on the north side of the brick bed while the husband keeps the south. I nearly fell for one of those exact arrangements with Mary herself right before Lucy entered my life. The poor Liam actually agreed to three of those arrangements. Three completely different families. He worked himself to the bone for three families, handing over every penny to feed other men's wives and kids without ever having a single child of his own. Those women probably never even shared his bed. The whole village called him the hero of the north bed, and that was never a compliment. The nickname meant he was so obedient, you could put a bridal on him, and he'd never fight back. Three families used him as a human ATM. He's the most innocent guy in the village. That's Liam. Hearing his name just made me frustrated. Mary actually made a pretty convincing point, though. He grew up hunting with his dad. He knows those mountains by heart. He wouldn't be a burden and he'd never cheat me. Mary is sharp. She knows I'd never accept a useless partner or split profits with a slacker. Liam would actually help. Carrying the game, watching my back, doing the heavy lifting, plus his absolute honesty. He won't complain or scheme. Fine, I'll go talk to him. Mary, sleep here tonight. And Liam and I head out. I will swing by the cabin. Two hunters means hauling back way more game. And Liam's endless patience and brute strength would be a massive asset. The guy managed to support three whole families on a simple herdsman's salary. If nothing else, he knows how to grind endlessly without giving up. So once it got dark, I went looking for Liam. The problem was I had no idea which house he'd sleep at tonight. My first stop was a woman named Rose's place. Her husband Vince was the fifth son and suffered from a lung disease. He could barely breathe or stand up, let alone do any hard labor. Three kids to feed, all counting on Liam. Rose, is he here tonight? He stepped out. Icy glare. Not here. Try Trey Angs place instead. I just laughed. So, the three families actually drew up a strict schedule for where Liam sleeps every single night. That way, they always know exactly where to find him. The Hero of the Northern Bed passed around three homes like a shared tool. I headed straight for Hank. Hank Jang suffered from some sort of lung disease, too. I found him sitting up his back, propped against the southern wall. Two little kids were glued to him. 5-year-old Shawn and four-year-old Flora. Hank's wife washed dinner potatoes in the kitchen. I called out, "Sawn, Flora, take these." I brought some fruit candy. The kids checked with their dad first. Hank took a ragged breath and nodded. Only then did Shawn run over, thanking me, calling me Uncle Jack. Smart kid, barely 5 years old, yet he already chopped wood and hauled water for his family. Most village kids never touched heavy chores until turning six or seven. Sat on the edge of the brick bed. Getting straight to the point. Listen, Hank, I am a forest guard now. My work points are gone. I hunt for a living now. Liam grew up tracking game with his dad, so I want him with me. What do you say? In this shared marriage setup, Liam held less status than a guy who moved in with his in-laws. They needed Hank's permission out of respect, even with Liam being a grown man. Hank's gaze instantly sharpened. The entire village knew about my five wolves by now. Word spread that I handed out meat, making every single family fiercely jealous. My old family probably punched walls over it. Hank cut me off between coughing fits if Liam actually goes with you today. Can you share some of your catch? A completely fair question. Nobody in the village really understood how much money a hunter could actually make. But back in the day, everything a village hunter caught went straight to the production team for work points. Nobody ever tracked the real value. I slapped the bed frame and spoke with total confidence. Just one week in the mountains buys a month of food for your family easily. But what I was actually thinking, just one single day up there could probably feed them all for an entire year. my skills, plus the heavy snow flushing game into the open, bagging a few hundred bucks worth of meat in one afternoon, was nothing special. The one week for a month of food. Are you serious? Hank completely stopped coughing. His eyes lit up, suddenly looking 10 years younger. Absolutely. Let Liam tag along tonight if you doubt me. Tomorrow, you can see exactly what we bring back. Hank never even hesitated. He knew Liam could barely keep three households fed anymore. The harvest was much worse this year. End of year payouts would be garbage and whatever grain they bought would barely last. His families were running out of time. Hank spoke up, Liam. Go with brother Jack. Take whatever you need from here. Liam stayed completely silent. I knew he absolutely hated this whole idea. After all, those mountains had killed his father, but the math was brutally simple. Stay here and slowly starve or brave the forest and fight for survival. I told him I had gear at home. Liam and I would swing by my old father-in-law's place for supplies. That last part made my heart race wildly. Liam's old man was a true master hunter, and every veteran hunter keeps something precious stashed away. I could not score a decent hunting rifle at the supply shop today. But if Liam's dad left one behind, that changes absolutely everything. Liam's house sat on the village's northern edge closest to the woods. I followed him over, my heart pounding like crazy. Back when I was a kid, Liam's dad never let anyone touch his hunting gear. You could look at the rifle, and that was it. The old man had been dead for years now. I had no idea what gear was left. Liam suddenly sparked an oil lamp. The place was spotless, not a speck of dust. Despite bouncing between three homes, he clearly still came back. Brother Jack, my dad, left two rifles in mint condition. I kept them perfectly oiled. Then he flipped open a massive wooden chest. Insides had two hunting rifles, a 16 gauge single barrel, and an older foreign model, plus all the bullet crafting gear. Ding's primers, a gunpowder shot, and sealant. But my dad taught me it all. the pressing lead, measuring powder, the packing shop, and sealing with kerosene. I can do everything. I could not believe he never sold these rifles. Despite his miserable living situation, this proves something huge about Liam's character. He fiercely protected his dad's old gear no matter what. I am not taking them, I said. Just borrowing the single barrel tonight. We are tracking something massive. I examined both weapons closely, perfectly maintained and ready to fire. My only real worry was whether Liam's hunting skills had gotten rusty. If a massive beast charged and he froze up, we were totally screwed. He just replied simply, "I will follow your lead on everything, brother Jack." He handed over the superior 16- gauge rifle, keeping the older weapon for himself without hesitating. It looked like a totally different guy, eyes sharp, shoulders squared, that quiet misery wiped completely from his face. After New Year, hunting stops. I reminded him of the old hunter rules. Absolutely no spring hunting. We have to push incredibly hard before that deadline hits. We have many traditions here. No hunting pregnant animals, females either. Every trade has its code. I'd follow those rules strictly as long as we weren't starving. We carried his heavy crate to the cabin. Introduced Liam to Lucy and Mary. Then we grabbed the heavy gear and headed straight into the forest. I brought along my broken barrel shotgun, my air rifle for small game, too, plus my short-handled shovel, an axe, a knife, and trapping gear. Liam asked me doubtfully, "Brother Jack, can that air rifle really hit a rabbit?" The rifle is accurate up to about 30 yards and rabbits are incredibly fast, but within 30 yards or less, I never miss. He gave a thumbs up and stopped asking questions. I had a specific destination tonight, Dragon King Valley, about 3 mi away from the cabin. In my past life, I passed through right before the blizzard hit. I spotted fresh wild boar tracks covering the entire area. The villagers all knew that valley was basically a boar den. Old hunters have a saying, a lone boar is hard to kill, but hunting a pack is much easier. Taking Liam meant keeping things as simple as possible. A boar pack in an open spot is the perfect target for our first hunt together. The running into a whole rampaging pack would turn this place into a blood bath. But two armed men against one single wild boar that is a challenge we can handle easily. Heavy snow made every movement exhausting. It took us nearly 2 hours just to finally reach the valley edge. Along the way, I noticed tracks stamped everywhere. Rabbits, feeasants, deer, and other animals. But I did not bother chasing any of them. just set some hidden traps where animals mark their territory. Whether they actually catch any prey is left entirely to pure luck. Right at the valley edge, I could clearly spot boar tracks and droppings scattered all across the bottom. Dim narrowed his eyes under the moonlight, trying in vain to see. Then he whispered, "Brother Jack, are there really wild boores down there? Tons of them. Let's go down." We carefully slid down the slope, walking east across the valley floor. A few dozen yards in, the tracks became much clearer. The lone set of hoof prints leading down one path. One boar split from the rest of the pack, probably scavenging for food further away. I thought they moved in packs, Liam said while crouching to inspect the tracks. Do boars usually split up? It happens sometimes. Let's track this boar and see. Two armed men facing a lone wild boar is honestly our perfect chance. Hunting packs is theoretically easier but deadly if they panic and charge us all at once. One animal against two guns means a fast, clean end. That was our plan for tonight. We kept tracking the hoof prints east into the pitch black darkness. The tracks led to a clearing where we saw a giant wild boar violently digging the frozen ground, snorting roughly with every strike. Hind muscles were terrifying, shoulders over 3 ft high, a body like a living tank. Trembling with sheer excitement, Liam whispered, "Brother Jack, his first time out, carrying a real gun, and the target was right there. I understood his feelings perfectly. Any man's blood would boil the first time he holds a weapon and spots his prey. But hunting never relies on an adrenaline rush. It requires cold nerves and unshakable experience. A harsh lesson I learned over two full lifetimes. Stay here, watch and learn. Then I started circling quietly toward the boar's flank. When using a shotgun, never aim for the head. A boar's skull is incredibly thick, and buckshot won't group tightly enough to pierce its eyes. The hind quarters are extremely tough, just layers of thick skin and fat. The only real kill zone is the side lungs and heart. Shred the lungs, and it is over. You hit the heart, the boar will still thrash violently before dying. The absolute best method is firing one direct shot right into the chest cavity, then reload quickly, close the distance, and end it with a head shot. I crawled extremely quietly through the snow without making a single sound. I moved step by step until I was about 40 ft away. Suddenly, the boar shifted its body sideways, giving me the perfect angle to pierce its chest. I raised the 16- gauge shotgun, planted the stock firmly against my shoulder, aimed carefully right behind its front leg, and pulled the trigger. That the blast shattered the quiet night. The boar's entire body jerked violently. It didn't drop though. It just twisted and started screaming hysterically. A terrifying scream of rage as it bolted. I was already reloading, snapped the barrel open, dropped the hot shell, loaded a fresh round, and slammed it shut. I sprinted after it, yelling, "Liam followed right behind." The wounded boar ran like crazy, bleeding heavily. I caught up and fired again. This time, I hit its hind legs. Definitely not a fatal shot, but it would drive the animal into absolute madness and quickly burn through its remaining energy. Liam couldn't hold back his excitement anymore. He fired his rifle, but the bullets just scattered wildly into the snow. Even so, I didn't scold him at all. It's just a kid holding a gun, watching his prey run for its life. It's completely natural to eagerly pull the trigger. We kept chasing it for another mile before the boar finally stopped running. It turned to face me, lowered its heavy-had white tusks gleaming under the moonlight. Liam breathed a sigh of relief, whispering, "It's a male. Killing males doesn't break any old hunting laws. Only females are strictly off limits. I knew it was a male from the first glance. It weighed between 3 and 400 lb. Winter boar meat is always the tastiest thick fat and incredibly rich flavor. Completely free of that awful stink it gives off in the summer, and all mountain game shares this exact same unique quality. Animals build up body fat all autumn to survive the harsh cold, so winter meat is hands down the best. A hunter who stops hunting in winter just wastes his entire year. I loaded my third shell, aiming straight for the boar's head. Before I even pulled the trigger, the massive animals legs gave out, collapsing onto the cold snow. I walked up to within 10 ft, then fired a mercy shot right into its head. Regardless, this is one rule I never break. Always make sure to finish off your prey. Never worry about wasting ammo. Some animals just play dead, waiting for you to get close before they ambush you. Always double tap. An extra bullet is always cheaper than a tusk tearing your leg. The wild boar stayed dead. Liam ran up with wide eyes. Brother Jack, that was insane. Your aim is unbelievable. I told him it was nothing special. I played it cool, but smiled inside. This boar means two or 300 lb of meat. The rendered fat alone covers our cooking for a full year. Told him to stop staring. Time to bleed and gut it. Liam knew livestock, and his old man was a master hunter, though gutting an animal was second nature to him. He jammed his knife into the throat, drained the blood, sliced the belly open, and pulled everything out. He tossed those guts far away. Some folks say leaving inards in the woods is a sacred offering to the great mountain spirit. That the real reason was purely practical. Predators absolutely love organs. Leave them a heavy meal and they go for the easy food. It stops them from tracking your praise blood. I stood guard with my rifle while Liam worked. A massive boar bleeding out in the snow. Every carnivore within a 1m radius could smell that scent, so we had to move incredibly fast. Liam drained the blood while I covered the stains with snow. By the time we finally finished, it was near midnight. Minus the guts and blood, the carcass still topped 300 lb. Strip away skin and bones, and we had 250 lb of solid meat. Liam's dad always talked constantly about the giant wild boars roaming these mountains. That this was his first time actually taking one down. Brother Jack, let us find more. What if we hunt two more tonight? Liam showed zero signs of fatigue. Youth is really something else. But I shook my head. We are hauling a 300lb boar. Do you think we are the hunters here or are the predators hunting us right now? Then I told him what I was actually looking for. I will be completely straight with you, Liam. I did not bring you just for your physical strength. Your dad was an expert hunter for years. It would push deep into the mountains for 10 or 15 days straight, and he definitely was not sleeping out in the open. Must have dug shelters, hidden underground pits, or maybe cabins for sleeping and storing game. I desperately need to know where those spots are. Liam thought hard, but came up empty. Brother Jack, I am not hiding anything. I really do not know. My dad never took me deep into the mountains at night. I was too young. Those hidden spots were his personal secrets. I completely believed him. The old hunter stashes were intensely guarded secrets, and Liam's dad died long before he could ever pass that precious knowledge down. Maybe there was nothing valuable left inside them anyway. Just old firewood and food the rats got to years ago. Just knowing the locations would save me weeks of prep for longer hunts. All right, that makes sense. Let us head back. We checked the traps on our way back. Two already caught wild hairs. Not a bad hall for one night. Dawn was breaking as we finally reached the village. I did not want to wake Lucy, so I walked right past the cabin. Meanwhile, Liam was yawning non-stop. He still had to feed the horses and pigs early that morning. I told him to swing by the cabin at daylight and let Lucy know I went to the county to sell the boar. And I did something totally crazy. Instead of sleeping, I chopped the boar in half. I gave Liam a whole thigh for his hard work. I kept one half, then hoisted the other 150 pounds right onto my shoulder. I would hike to the county town right at sunrise, sell the meat, buy my supplies, and get back home before anyone even noticed I was gone. I hit the town just as the sky started turning pale. Smoke was slowly rising from the chimneys of the early morning breakfast shops. My stomach gave a loud growl. I had not eaten anything all night. to duck into a state-run shop selling steamed buns, slapping a dollar and some ration tickets on the counter. I ordered 20 cabbage buns, five fried dough sticks, and two bowls of bean soup. A cashier stared at me like I had completely lost my mind. Each bun was bigger than a grown man's fist. A small woman could get stuffed off just one bun, but I planned to devour 10 myself with the fried dough and soup, then take the rest home for Lucy. Deemed buns freeze really well. They easily stay edible for a solid 10 days. I was inhaling my breakfast, dunking the hot buns straight into the soup. I felt like an absolute king. Then someone tapped my shoulder. Out in the woods, I would have jumped right out of my skin, but I was safe in town. I turned around. It was Daniel, the guy in the gray suit, who bought my road dear for $70 yesterday. Daniel grabbed a seat. Let us eat together. I pushed my untouched bowl of bean soup across the table, sliding the buns and fried dough into the middle. He sat down with a relaxed smile and took a sip. The bean soup you guys make here in the mountains tastes exactly like the stuff back in northern China. That sparked a chat about our roots. I told him my family originally came from eastern Hunan province and my ancestors migrated to the northeast a few generations back. He said he was from western Shandong which practically made us neighbors back in the old country. In the 70s folks from those two regions shared deep cultural bonds, close dialects and very similar customs. We called it being half a hometown boy. His eyes drifted to the half boar on the floor. You are a hunter, right? Yesterday was the road deer. Today I brought back half a wild boar, over 100 pounds easy. Figured I'd keep the head to cook at home myself. I've got my official forestry hunting license. Just saving up for a real double-barreled shotgun now. The last night, I borrowed a friend's old single barrel. Daniel was pretty surprised I didn't own my own gear. Between the deer and that boar, I should have enough cash. He had a point, but he had no clue about my situation. They only started hunting days ago. Every dollar went to feeding Lucy, fixing the cabin, and paying the carpenter. Nothing left for a $150 rifle. Truth is, I only started hunting because my family fell apart. Still broke. Daniel just shook his head thinking. Then he dropped something that almost made me choke on my food. Turns out he's the deputy director of a neighboring state-owned factory that they make military and civilian firearms. He could score me a solid rifle as long as my purchase permit didn't restrict the weapon type. He asked for my half of the boar to call it even. Plus, I'd have to take him hunting in these mountains someday. I almost jumped out of my seat in shock. I knew exactly which factory he meant. A military weapons plant disguised as a standard tool workshop. Top secret place, or at least it was. By late 1977, the factory was bleeding money and restructuring. That total secrecy was practically gone. I casually mentioned I didn't need anything fancy, just a Type 56 assault rifle. Daniel raised his eyebrows in surprise. I had a reason for wanting that exact gun. His factory once produced a notoriously bad batch of type 56 rifles. They didn't fire reliably, missed targets, and jammed constantly. The factory actually called them the three rifles. Most ended up dumped with local militia units or left to rust in warehouses as worthless junk. Buying one would basically be doing the government a favor by clearing out their junk. But here's the thing. A junk assault rifle from an official plant sold by a deputy director owing me a favor wouldn't actually be useless. He'd make sure I got something functional. and even a rough assault rifle beats a standard hunting gun 10 times over that handled weapons in my past life knew exactly what I needed. Daniel laughed and agreed. The boar promised me the rifle and never asked how I knew about that bad batch. Factory secrets weren't supposed to leak, but nobody really cared anymore. The country was changing. I owed this guy now. You don't just forget a favor this huge. I didn't know when or how I'd repay him, but that day would come and I'd make it count. At the local supply store, Daniel made a single phone call. Minutes later, someone handed us a Type 56 assault rifle. Filled officially through the store with Daniel covering it using my purchase permit. Meanwhile, my halfbour went to a restaurant where he was hosting some guests. They handed me the receipt and told me to take the rifle to town for my official firearm permit. He added that the local police would never question paperwork from the official county supply store. They wanted me to stay for lunch, but I told him I needed to get back home to Lucy. I promised to send him some mountain goods once I had his address and swore I'd pass the annual weapon inspection without fail. I knew he was risking a lot. If I ever quit using it, I'd hand it over to the cops. It was the least I could do. Daniel advised me to stock up on ammo since Type 56 rounds were super common. Any supply store carried them. We shook hands and left. He was heading home tomorrow, telling me to stay in touch. He clearly had some doubts about the whole deal, but a gut feeling told him I was a guy worth betting on. I felt the exact same way. It was a heavy debt I'd repay when the time was right. Back at the cabin, things were busy while I was gone. Liam delivered the halfboar and head early that morning. Mary was boiling water to clean the meat. The rafters were already holding over 100 pounds of pork and that massive boar head. Mary told Lucy her husband was unbelievable. She'd known veteran hunters her whole life, and none ever brought home a catch like that. Lucy was practically glowing. She finally stopped worrying about me spending money. even offered Mary a whole leg and 10 pounds of back fat. Enough to last her family right through the new year. Animal fat was pure gold back then. You could melt it down into lard to flavor everything. Spread it on bread or mix it with rice. But Mary refused, saying we'd already done enough for them. Liam had hunted all night and only came back with a single leg. He couldn't take more than he caught. Lucy dropped it, saying they'd decide when I got back and climbed out of bed to walk around. I told her pregnant women needed exercise, and she took it completely seriously. It paced the cabin for hours between studying. Then trouble started outside. Loud, angry, shouting. Kong's voice cut through. What are you doing here, Carpenter? You belong with the team. Not running private jobs for Jack. Martin tried defending himself. I am just helping a neighbor out. They are going through a tough time. Why don't you help me instead? Enough talk. Is Jack home right now? I will be arresting both of you today. Mary heard everything and told Lucy to stay inside. Mary had been fending Kong off for years. Ever since Sam got paralyzed, Kong has been shamelessly trying to force himself on her. She never caved, and she knew exactly how to handle him. But before either woman could move, Kong kicked the cabin door wide open. Freezing wind rushed inside. He spotted Mary standing there, his face twisting into a truly ugly, malicious smirk. But well, look at this. You are sleeping in Jack's bed now. I thought you were a respectable widow, not just another man's play thing. And look at this. Lucy is here, too. Two women, one man. Sounds like capitalist behavior to me. Jack lives like some feudal lord with a herm. Mary went pale with anger, unable to find the right words to strike back. Lucy trembled in fear. A group of village officials stood right behind Kong at the doorway. They came to arrest me. Then Liam shoved through the crowd, dropping to his knees before Lucy. I am so sorry. This is entirely my fault. I brought that pork leg to Hank's place this morning. And his wife tried to sell it to Kong for some quick cash. He told him everything about the hunt and how Jack went to the county to sell the pig. Every detail. I am so sorry. Nobody could really blame Liam. He brought the pork leg over to Hank's house. It was absolutely the right thing to do. Hank's wife desperately needed money or grain. The only guy in the village with actual cash is Kong. So, she went to him hoping to trade the meat. Kong faked his interest, asking a few innocent questions. He easily pulled every detail from her. The night hunt, the pig, me going to the county for cash. That was the huge problem here. It was still 1977. farmers would not be officially allowed to sell their own goods at the market for another year or two. Selling my hunt privately instead of handing it over to the purchasing station or production team. I was walking a seriously fine line. If Kong wanted to frame me with a massive political charge, the town could easily lock me up for 10 whole days or more. Lucy understood this instantly. With me gone, she firmly took charge of the household. She ordered Kong outside. This was her home. She refused to let strange men stand at her door, letting all the heat escape. The Kong smirked and stepped back, warning that I would never get past his men. He even had men watching the village. Lucy and Liam stood inside the cabin, looking at each other in total silence. I noticed something off walking back from the city. Dark figures surrounding my cabin. I knew instantly it was Kong and his men. I shifted the Type 56 assault rifle, flipped the safety to auto, and felt for the folded bayonet at the front. The gun was not just for show. Three shadows stood behind me on the snowy path with even more waiting near the cabin. Seven in total, though one was Martin the carpenter. Six men came to arrest me. Four village officials and two of Kong's lackeyis. They spotted me approaching. Then they noticed the gun boss. He is armed. It is an assault rifle. Where'd he get an assault rifle? The bayonet gleamed in the moonlight. I held the weapon at my hip, muzzle forward, just like the militia training manual described. The perfect stance for close quarters combat. Two lifetimes of weapons experience flowed through my muscles like water. Kong's voice actually shook. Hey brother, let's just talk about this. To where did you steal that rifle? I can help return it quietly. I answered, I bought it at the county supply store. The police even issued me a firearm permit. Want to see it? He did not dare step closer. He knew I was telling the truth. A single trip to the town police officer would confirm everything. Put the gun down, brother. We are all friends here. Just came to check on your wife. Wanted to see if you guys needed help. Kong's men had surrounded Martin for half an hour before I arrived. Now that Kong was backing down, Martin snapped at him. Do not listen to his brother. Jack, he came here calling you a capitalist for selling pork in the city. He claimed I was doing illegal private work for you, too. He called you names I won't repeat. Kong went totally pale. His men looked like they wished the snow would just swallow them and never lowered the weapon. Let me make this simple, Kong. That half of the boar was never sold at any market. I gave it to a senior official. Think a purchase certificate alone buys an assault rifle like this. I let that word hang in the air. Official. And Martin, which one of your eyes actually saw me pay him? Everyone in the village knows I gave his family three wolves a few days back. Just neighbors helping each other. Kong did not hear any of this. He only heard one word official. A leader powerful enough to arrange the sale of a serious military weapon to a simple village hunter. Kong was just an uneducated team leader. He knew absolutely nothing about hunting licenses or even firearm permits. He never heard of anyone in the mountains owning legal gunpapers. In his head, I had some massive backer pulling strings, someone who could crush him like a bug. The truth was way simpler. Daniel was a factory vice director doing me a personal favor, making my permits totally legit. Kong didn't need to know any of that. This fear was far more useful. I stepped inside, dropped the rifle, and smiled at Lucy. A petty village chief meant nothing. Top county officials share breakfast with me, and speak politely. Lucy beamed. He hadn't seen me lose once since cutting ties with the family. Mary looked totally flushed. Seeing me hold that assault rifle really must have impressed her. Liam looked relieved, though he clearly still blamed himself for the leak. I told him to stay for breakfast. We had things to discuss later. I grabbed some premium cigarettes from the cabinet and headed back out. Kong stood frozen. He desperately wanted to run, but was absolutely terrified of what I might do if he left without permission. He also heard me talking about officials inside and about county breakfasts. His wild imagination was doing all the heavy lifting for me. I opened the luxury pack and handed a cigarette to every man standing there. The Kong was visibly shaking. Only provincial leaders ever smoke these. There is an old local saying here. Provincial bosses smoke the finest. City bosses smoke mid-tier. The regular cadri just smoke whatever they can scavenge. Kong could not even afford cadre brands. He rolled his own tobacco leaves. And here I was tossing around the best cigarettes in the country like it was nothing. And none of them lit up. Every single man pocketed his smoke to save for New Year's. I quietly mentioned I had no special connections. The official just loves Mountain Game. I send him some occasionally. That is how we became friends. Kong practically shoved his aruck face against mine. He called me brother, saying if I was doing this well, he felt relieved. He offered help anytime I needed. He even bragged about having premium liquor at home, asking if I wanted a bottle sent over for the holidays. I never actually intended to give that man anything at all. The real goal was simply showing I owned things only top officials could afford, letting his mind do the rest. He stammered that he could never accept such a gift. I told him to drop by for drinks sometime I would cook for him myself. He knew he was not important enough for such treatment, but the mere offer made him feel 10 ft tall. He left with his crew, even telling Martin to stay and keep working for me. On the walk back to the village, his subordinate would not shut up. He kept chanting about how great our chief must be. Even though Jack knows county bosses, he still treated the chief with respect. He gave us all premium smokes I have never even smelled before. Kong probably wanted to snatch their cigarettes back, but he was too rattled to try it. I handled that situation better than the town secretary ever could. Back inside, everyone was eating the steamed buns I brought from the city. Martin and Liam thought I was way too generous. Why reward a guy who came here just to arrest me? But Mary got it. She said I slapped Kong with a rifle, then handed him candy through those cigarettes. I was treating him exactly like a child. Liam slowly connected the dots. The gun was the slap. The smokes were the candy. Mary nodded, telling him to stick close to brother Jack. They would learn a lot that way. Liam's eyes sparkled, calling me amazing. I just smiled. What they saw was barely scratching the surface. Kong was no child. He was a grown man with a title, and petty officials crave respect more than absolutely anything. First, I proved I outclassed him in every possible way. Weapons, connections, absolute confidence. Then I handed him a smoke and spoke to him like an equal. When someone clearly more powerful treats you that politely, it feels completely intoxicating. That is why billionaires open car doors for clients. It is why emperors stepped down from their thrones to greet their ministers. That was merely copying what the powerful have always done. It cost me absolutely nothing. Just a few smokes and some kind words. But in return, my village reputation would skyrocket. And Kong would definitely think twice, maybe even three times before daring to approach my door again. over buns and porridge. I asked Liam to break down exactly what happened. He explained it all. How Hank's wife took the pork leg straight to Kong, hoping to trade it for cash or grain. Kong faked interest while smoothly extracting information from her. When Liam finished speaking, he just stared at the floor. He swore he wouldn't make a sound if I wanted to beat or curse him, but I didn't blame anyone. Hank's wife did what she had to do. Total desperation. That is exactly what poverty does to people. Instead of blaming him, I asked Liam a completely unexpected question. I asked if he wanted marriage and kids of his own. He stuttered hard, unable to speak. I told him it was a simple question. Yes or no? He blurted out yes, he wanted a wife. What man wouldn't want a woman at night, though, but he had zero money who would take him? Then it clicked. The great lover of the north, the guy serving three households, had never actually touched those women. They worked him like a beast all day, leaving him alone on the freezing side of the bed every night. I already had a plan ready. Starting today, you hunt with me. I keep the profits, but I cover all your meals. They quit that livestock gig and drop your work points. Then go take your mattress back from those three houses. That last step was the real trick. That is exactly how this shared husband custom works. When a family takes you in, their man hauls your bedding across the village. If the deal ends, that bed goes right back. But once Liam quits his job and stops bringing in cash, he becomes useless to them. They will kick him out themselves. Mary looked anxious. She warned me this would start massive trouble, saying those three families relied on him for absolutely everything. They're going to hate you for it. I just tapped the fancy cigarette pack on the table. Kong would handle it. Nobody got what I meant and I did not explain. Kong owes me now. Or rather, he is terrified of me. And when those three families come screaming for blood, Kong will keep them in line. That is exactly what village chiefs are for. Liam chewed his bread and thought it over. Then he nodded. I will do it, brother Jack. I will tell them today. Everyone cleared out after the meal. Martin headed home to start building us a proper dining table and some chairs. The breakfast today was five people sharing just two chairs, leaving three grown men standing. Meanwhile, Mary went back to check on Sam and Daisy. The cabin went quiet. Lucy sat by me, rubbing my temples while I rested on the warm brick bed. Jack, since when do you know county officials? I know absolutely nobody. I made that up just for Kong. But I did meet an important guy from another county. The guy who brought me this rifle. I told her everything about Daniel, the factory, and even the pig I traded to get this weapon. Tomorrow I am taking Liam up the mountain to forage for wild jins singing mushrooms and some useful winter herbs. I want to send a batch to Daniel to say thanks. I kept their secrets from Lucy. A husband and wife need absolute honesty between them. Did you send my letter? That was still the biggest thing on her mind. I told her it went out this morning. Now we just wait for her parents. No matter how they feel about me or their daughter marrying a mountain farmer, at least they will finally be talking again. I really hope we hear back before the new year hits. Then Lucy murmured something incredibly quiet. Baby moved today. It took a full second to process that. I shot up, pressing my hand against her growing stomach. Oh, are you serious? The next time the baby kicks, you have to tell me immediately. I wrapped my arms around her, pressing my ear just below her navl. Thump, thump, thump. The baby's heartbeat, strong and completely steady. Lucy was in her fifth or sixth month now. In roughly 3 months, I would finally hold our child in my hands. I stayed there with my ear glued to her belly, listening to that tiny heart. I thought to myself, "This is why I came back. This exact moment. Everything I had done, the hunting, the fighting, the scheming, all of it was just for this one sound." I managed to talk Lucy into a quick midday nap. She tried fighting it at first, but once I gently pulled her under those warm blankets, she completely gave in. She quietly rested her head against my arm. My hands wandered a bit. Her face flushed red, and she lightly swatted me, but she let it slide. I knew I had self-control, so I didn't push it any further. Within minutes, I was dead to the world. But while I slept, the whole village was buzzing. Kong's lackeyis just could not keep their mouths shut. They paraded all over the place, bragging about those premium cigarettes I handed out. They boasted to anyone who would listen that Jack had deep connections with county officials. They swore I drank absolute topshelf liquor and carried a legally permitted assault rifle. Their egos totally inflated just by being associated with me. The guy that important handed them a smoke. They must be important, too. Meanwhile, Kong played his own little game. told people I offered him premium liquor, but he turned it down flat. He claimed that stuff just wasn't his style. Everybody knew he was lying through his teeth, but they ate the story up anyway. It was way better than any other entertainment they had all winter. Just like that, I became the most talked about guy in the village. 80% of the folks felt proud just knowing me, though. Whenever my name came up, they actually stood a little straighter. But four families were definitely not celebrating. My old family, of course, watching me thrive while Frank lay crippled was eating them alive. Plus, the three families using Liam for that shared husband arrangement. The word spread fast that Liam wanted out of those arrangements. They blamed me completely furious that I had stolen their free labor. Over at the old house, Greg called yet another family meeting. Exact same topic as last time, splitting up the family. But his reason this time was totally different. He wanted to get rid of Frank before he dragged everyone down with him. Frank was crippled. His wife was pregnant and Greg refused to share a single potato with them, but Tom was absolutely not having it. Split the family right now and your brother dies. Is that what you want? Greg just shrugged it off. Frank's wife looks decent enough. You can find a shared husband. Plenty of single guys around here. Problem solved. Tom grabbed a broom and charged at Greg, screaming like a maniac. That is your own blood, you heartless animal. I will beat you to death. Martha jumped between them to protect Greg. She screamed at Tom. You absolute loser. You earn nothing and cannot even control your kids. Now you want to be the only one with working legs. This entire mess is your fault. Tom just stood there shaking from head to toe. The first time I finally understood why I cut ties. This family could drive anyone completely insane. Greg instantly saw his chance to shift the conversation. To forget the split. Jack is out there smoking premium cigarettes and drinking the most expensive booze. The money pours from his hands like rain. Go grab some from him, Dad. Even the crumbs off his table could easily feed us all. Tom fired. right back. You really think I would beg the son your mother kicked out? But if I had been there watching, I would have known Greg planted a seed in his mind. Greg was always the smoothtalking manipulator of this family. That silver tongue is exactly why Martha spoiled him constantly. It is why he always gets his way. You cannot hunt, work, or fight, but he plays mind games like a pro. That alone made him way more dangerous than Kong ever was. I had no clue my old family was plotting against me again. I slept for maybe 2 hours, then woke up and started prepping the pork. Martin brought over a big clay pot for slow cooking. He even bought the spice blend himself. That is how genuinely good people behave. Treat them with respect and they give it right back. Others take whatever you offer and never return the favor. I refused to mingle with those people. Clean the pig head, burned the hair, boiled it fast, then tossed it in the pot. Lucy watched the entire process like it was an incredible magic trick. She had never actually seen anyone prep slowcooked meat before. Back in her hometown, they just bought it readymade at the store. Out here, nobody cares. Anyone with money for meat prefers fatty cuts to render lard. Jack, I offered Mary a pork leg and 10 pounds of lard. This morning, she refused to take them. Lucy just could not understand why her gifts got rejected while mine were accepted every single time. It was pretty simple. I told her whenever I give people something, I tie it to a task. That makes it a fair trade. Offering free stuff to a proud woman like Mary just makes her feel like a charity case. Lucy nodded slowly. She needed time to process that. She grew up completely sheltered. then suddenly became a total outcast thanks to her family reputation. Her whole life was either cold rejection or fiery kindness. She never really experienced anything in between. That evening, Liam stopped by for a visit. He quit his cattle hurting job and told all three families he was now my apprentice. I only agreed to feed him. No actual wages involved. He had zero money, not even a grain of wheat. Soon those families would realize they cannot survive without him forcing them to either back off or send his stuff. I told him to rest up and prep some traps. Tomorrow morning, we hit the mountains. Might be a day, maybe two, maybe longer. Things were completely stable at the cabin, and we had plenty of food saved up. And Martin handled the outdoor chores all day. Meanwhile, Mary stayed inside to look after Lucy. Thus, after today's little stunt with the rifle and cigarettes, nobody in the village would dare cause us any trouble. Even Kong himself would make sure of that. Suddenly, Liam pulled something out that made my heart race. He spoke up. Brother Jack, I have been thinking about this all day. If my dad set up shelters in the mountains, he definitely drew a map for them. He was totally obsessed with mapmaking, and everyone in the village knew it. Slowly unfolded an old yellowed piece of paper. The vintage 1940s font immediately caught my eye. It was an old topographic mountain map from the occupation era. Original markings highlighted mineral deposits and other precious natural resources. Someone had drawn new symbols right over them, Liam's father. Obviously, those markings were incredibly strange. The one weird symbol looked like a human figure with a line underneath. I figured that meant an above ground shelter. Then the exact same symbol, but with a line above. That probably meant an underground dugout. Fish drawn next to the rivers made perfect sense. But the random symbols scattered across the forest were impossible to decode. Only Liam's dad knew their secret meaning. Liam looked at me full of hope and asked, "Can you read these symbols?" Only some of them. Shelters and water sources. Yes. The rest I will have to discover myself once we arrive. I folded the map carefully. This map is absolutely priceless, Liam. And not just for hunting either. Your dad mapped out everything. Hunting grounds, herb field, and mushroom patches and berry bushes. And mountain men like him tracked all four seasons, documenting it on paper. That was the absolute truth. Hunters out in these mountains did not just shoot game. They fished all summer, foraged for herbs every fall, and scavenged for supplies year round. Spring meant gathering wild greens. Summer brought fresh fish and medicinal mushrooms. Fall was peak season for berries, frog oil, and wild jinseng. The winter was purely for hunting game along with gathering lykan and chopping firewood. A map like this covered every single detail perfectly. At this map, my assault rifle, the borrowed shotgun, and Liam beside me, I was totally ready for this trip. The only thing we were missing now were some decent hunting dogs. I asked Liam to sniff around for any available hounds nearby, and we agreed to head out tomorrow morning. By the next morning, everyone showed up bright and early. Martin and Liam hauled in a brand new table. Martin built it himself. Solid wood, the kind that lasts three generations easily. Mary trailed behind them, starting her day with Lucy. Liam had news. Brother Jack, you asked me to look for dogs. Educated youths in the commune housing have seven or eight hunting dogs. Purebreds. Pretty excellent stock. Some of them want to hunt with us today. They're waiting at my place right now. If you don't want them around, I'll kick them out. I was not thrilled. People always talk about how harsh life was for the city youth sent to the countryside. Nobody ever mentions how the villagers felt about them here. These educated youths were famous for stealing chickens and constantly stirring up trouble. They definitely were not all peaceful like Lucy. Martin backed me up with a grim warning years ago. A group stole militia rifles and went deep into the mountains. I've went in. Only one came back alive. Watch out for these guys, brother Jack. He was right. Those city kids had zero clue how to survive out here. Even with guns, they couldn't handle the freezing cold, the rough terrain, the beasts. The ones who froze to death were found standing upright, stiff as pillars. I gave a firm answer, "Not this time. Maybe the next trip, but they have to pay up." And that completely depends on what they are willing to offer us. Honestly, I did want their dogs, but purebreds bond with one master, making them almost impossible to retrain. It was way better to buy local muts, mountain dogs, or wolf hybrids. Those guys adapt to a new owner in just a week. The real reason I even considered taking them along later was much simpler. These educated youths own pretty interesting stuff. the watches, tools, books, even connections. If dragging them along brought me a profit, it was just like any other hunt. Liam joged back to give them my answer. The response was definitely not pretty. So, we bring our dogs to help him hunt, and he demands payment. One of them growled in anger. Just an arrogant villager. It's just a pig and some wolves, nothing more. But we have the dog so we can completely do this ourselves. Their leader was a reckless kid named Donnie, hottempered and stubborn. His parents were local officials who lost their power, but everyone expected them to bounce back very soon. The commune leadership already treated Donnie with too much respect, swelling his ego to a massive degree. Donnie announced they would head into the mountains alone. Somebody suggested stealing militia rifles first. Nobody objected to the plan. Even if they got caught, the worst penalty was a reprimand. Once Donniey's parents regained their posts, a stolen gun would just be a forgotten detail. Though by the time they finished plotting, Liam and I were already on the trail. We packed dried food, rifles, ammo, and some traps. The old map was still burned clearly into my memory, but we headed west toward a peak called Bear Hill, named for the black bears. Locals saw fishing in the river. My target was wild lingji mushrooms. In winter, with heavy snow blanketing the mountains, absolutely nobody else would be out here competing for this fungi. Bear Hill was supposedly packed with them. Liam looked nervous. Brother Jack, you don't think we will actually run into a bear, right? I stayed quiet. The truth was, I was counting on it. We are in December. I told Liam all the bears are hibernating right now. Did they go into their dens around mid November? If we somehow stumbled onto an awake one, I'd call that unbelievable luck. The kids everywhere else grew up hearing scary stories about wolves and ghosts. Kids here grew up on stories of bears smashing through doors at midnight, dragging children away. The fear was incredibly real. Bears absolutely eat humans. But in December, they were asleep underground. Even if one wasn't, I had 30 bullets sitting in my rifle. The hunting rifle might not drop a bear instantly, but 30 rounds definitely will. Liam finally relaxed a little. He had traded his old gun for a 16 gauge today, hoping to practice on some wolves or deer. But hunting wasn't really the main goal here. We reached Bear Hill. I immediately spotted clumps of green scattered throughout the bare treetops. To wintergreen, a parasitic plant that stays bright green even when everything else dies. It grows on other trees and chaotic tangles, looking like bird nests from afar. Start cutting, I told him, handing Liam a sickle tied to a long pole. I need at least 50. This plant wasn't worth much cash. It was so common nobody bothered buying it, but dried and chopped, it brewed an excellent tea and made a nice gift. Liam knew exactly how to harvest the medicinal parts, so he got to work right away. I am going to look for lingji mushrooms. If anything happens, blow this whistle. I handed him a plastic whistle, then headed straight for the slope. Finding wild lingi in winter was tough, especially the exact type I wanted. Flat cap lingi grows on dead tree roots buried deep under the snow. It really had to dig deep. But from my past life, I knew this peak was full of them. The locations of these plants and mushrooms hadn't changed at all between my two lives. The animals might move around, but if my memories held up, every single resource spot I memorized over 40 years in the mountains would be mine again. After a few minutes, I spotted a tiny one growing on a birch stump. It was way too small, so I left it alone. I kept climbing until I reached the exact area where I would find a massive one decades later. "Which tree was it?" I muttered, scanning the slope carefully. I could not remember perfectly, so I started brushing snow off every nearby tree base. Then my hands hit something flat with a slightly jagged surface. I completely cleared the snow, and there was the surprise. A flat lingi mushroom bigger than my torso growing on a dead popppler trunk. 28 growth rings, 28 years. I just laughed out loud. Not because of the mushroom itself. Even though it was a flawless masterpiece with pure white edges, it simply confirmed everything. My memories were 100% accurate. Every single herb patch, jinseng spot, and mushroom ground I found in my past life was still sitting exactly in its rightful place. The mountains had not changed at all. I carry enough treasure maps for a lifetime inside my head. I carefully sawed the dead wood and freed the mushroom, keeping its wooden base totally intact without any scratches. is a masterpiece. The kind a rich guy displays like rare coral. Part of me wanted to keep it, but our cabin has a stove pumping out greasy smoke all day non-stop. The one single winter, and this rare beauty would turn into a smoked ruin. Better to save it as a gift for someone important. I was still admiring it when three sharp whistles pierced the air from below, followed by a sudden gunshot. Damn it, something was wrong. I left the lingi on the snow and sprinted straight downhill. More gunshots echoed through the trees. The whistle kept blowing over and over. Liam was retreating up the hill toward me, firing his weapon as he moved. I heard the chaos before I saw it. Down below on the frozen river at the base of Bear Ridge, several people were slipping and panicking on the ice. The Liam was firing his rifle and blowing his whistle non-stop. And right in the middle stood the one thing nobody expects in December. A fully awake black bear nearly 7t tall on its hind legs, pounding its chest with massive iron fists. Those foolish educated kids, they actually went and did it. They stole a militia rifle and headed into the mountains alone. Now four of them are totally trapped on the ice with a raging bear. Their stolen guns useless and hands shaking violently with absolute terror. Liam was 50 yards away, emptying his shotgun shells at the bear. From that far away, the buckshot bounced off its thick hide like gravel. He was not trying to kill it, only seeking to drag its attention away from those kids. The one hound rushed the fight. The bear swatted it with just one claw strike. I heard the bone crack from the hill. The dog flew through the air and slammed onto the ice, blood pouring heavily from its mangled mouth. It was dead. The leader, Donnie, screamed seeing his dog fall. Something just snapped inside him. He braced himself on the ice, raised the stolen semi-automatic rifle, and emptied all 10 rounds at the bear. Every single bullet missed entirely. He had zero shooting experience. His stance was totally wrong, hands shaking, and that blind rage just made everything worse. Recoil threw his aim everywhere. 10 shots and the bear did not even get a scratch. The bear roared loud enough to shake snow off the branches and charged straight at Donnie. Right then, I arrived. I was still a mile out when I started firing the Type 56 on full auto. That first burst hit the ice right in front of the bear, forcing an immediate halt. I was not close enough for an accurate shot yet, but the sound of an assault rifle was something this bear had never heard before. I kept moving, swapping from wildfire to targeted single shots, closer and closer. Several rounds pierced the bear's vitals, but a wounded bear never slows down. Its insane speed only increases. It completely forgot the kids on the ice and turned toward me with furious red eyes, sprinting at full speed. I stopped our running, planted my feet firmly, and raised my rifle. The calm breathing, the bear's face grew more massive with every heartbeat. The beared teeth and extended claws close enough to see the drool. 50 yd 4030. One clean shot right between the eyes. The bear's head violently snapped backward. 700 lb of sheer muscle and rage froze in midair for half a second, then slammed face first into the snow. The entire ground shook, though a bear actually skipped hibernation. I muttered that walking toward the corpse. In winter, stumbling across an awake black bear is rarer than finding a 50-year-old mushroom. But here it was. Liam ran up to me, his face pale as paper. The other Jack, thank God you showed up. If those kids died here, we would all be in real trouble. The four educated youths sat on the ice like broken dolls. Two of them had actually peed themselves. The three surviving dogs were barking in total confusion. Donnie stared at his dead dog, completely speechless. I did not feel bad for any of them, especially after what happened years ago when five kids froze to death doing this exact thing. These idiots stole rifles and marched into the mountains anyway. Totally convinced they knew better than everyone. If Liam and I were not at Bear Ridge today, all four would have frozen to death on this ice. I told Liam that if they died, they absolutely deserved it. Liam realized I was furious, so he stayed completely quiet. Quit standing around. Let us drag this bear back. I plan to spend days out here gathering mushrooms, herbs, and setting traps. But after only half a day, I had already hunted a 300-PB black bear and found a 28-year-old Lingi mushroom. I gathered the winter herb. Now I had four reckless city kids to worry about. Leaving them in the mountains meant they would definitely find another way to get killed. Somehow I would get the blame. Then Liam read my mind. You want to go back for those guys, right? Shut up and go bring them here. We just saved their lives. They can help carry this bear. Liam joged over to the group standing out on the ice over there. are one of those kids named Victor was staring me down from a distance. So that is Jack, the guy who actually married Lucy. Donnie nodded, his face completely sour. What an absolute waste, Victor muttered under his breath. The girl that beautiful marrying some total savage. These kids had lived with Lucy at the commune dorms back before she moved out to our village. Men slept on one side, women on the other, and when Lucy's actually married me, not a single one of them showed up to congratulate her. Her family's political status made them avoid her completely. Liam delivered my message asking for their help, dragging the bear back to the cabin. But Donniey's response made Liam's jaw drop. How much bear meat do we get? We want the bear gallbladder in the fat, too. Give us those parts plus some extra meat, and we will help. Liam absolutely could not believe his ears. I had just saved their lives. They were seconds away from death. Before the fear even left their shaking legs, they shamelessly demanded the most valuable parts of my kill. Bear gallbladder was worth an absolute fortune in medicine and bear fat thick and abundant in winter was highly prized for both cooking and healing. Have you guys completely lost your minds? Liam yelled furiously. Donnie crossed his arms and said, "We found the bear first. My dog died fighting it, so asking for a share of the kill is completely reasonable." The other three leaned on each other and nodded. They just lost a hunting dog and nearly lost their own lives, too. Going home empty-handed would be pretty humiliating. Liam ran back fully expecting me to grab my rifle and stomp over there in a rage. Instead, I stayed perfectly calm. If they refuse, we won't force them. I will drag the bear myself. Liam, go pick up that dead dog. We are having dog meat stew tonight. Liam blinked and argued it is their dog. They won't just let us take it. My eyes swept across the ice to where Donnie and his friends were huddled. I wanted dog meat tonight, and I was determined to get it. Just come with me. If they object, we will just reason with them. Liam followed me, completely confused. He had never seen me reason with anyone. With Kong, I used a gun. And with Greg, I used my fists. And with the forestry station, I used gifts. Reasoning with people was not really my style. I tied a thick rope around the bear's front legs, dragging 300 lb of dead weight across the snow to the frozen river, heading straight for their group. Donnie and his friends watched me approach, exchanging nervous glances. You just saw me fire an assault rifle from a mile away without hitting a person or dog, then plant a bullet between a raging bear's eyes from 50 yards. that whatever courage they gathered was draining away fast, but Donnie remained completely convinced that they deserve that share. In his mind, they found the bear first and their dog died for it. That made the bear partly theirs, but he was about to learn how wrong he was. I told Liam to grab the dog because we were leaving immediately. I wasted zero words on these kids. Liam walked straight toward the dead hound on the ice. The three surviving hounds started barking fiercely at him. Donnie lunged forward, yelling, "That is my dog. What the hell are you doing?" I gave him the look you give a kid playing soldier. That stolen rifle in his shaking hands was honestly just a loud noise maker. You fired 10 bullets and missed a truck-sized target. I simply told him it really was yours, but now it belongs to me. He yelled out, "What kind of logic is that? When did I agree to give it to you?" I answered, "The bear killed your dog. That made it the bear's property and I killed the bear, so the bear's belongings are now mine. That is how things work here." Donnie had used twisted logic to bully Liam earlier today. I was simply returning the favor and securing a dog for dinner at the same time. Donnie shouted, "That is just bandit logic." Donnie yelled while pointing right at me. So, I answered, "Band logic." "All right, let me ask you something." "Before liberation," Changs army seized many weapons from the invaders. "Then our soldiers defeated Changs forces. Did those captured weapons belong to Chang alone? Should our army have returned them to him?" I let the words sink in. Then I added, "Donnie, I think your way of thinking has serious issues. Very serious issues." His face went completely pale. In this era, being accused of having problematic thoughts carried huge political weight that could ruin a person's life. It couldn't push back against my argument anymore. Not without digging himself into a deep political hole. You are twisting concepts, he stammered in fear. Donnie let it go. Victor said this while pulling his arm. Let's head back to the commune dorms now and talk to the party secretary. He will definitely help get your dog back. The others quickly surrounded Donnie and dragged him away. They completely forgot about the bear's gallbladder and fat. Yeah, fear does strange things to people. On the way back home, Liam carried the dead dog on one shoulder and the winter herb on his back, smiling happily the whole way. Brother Jack, you really are amazing. You completely forced those city kids into silence. I really think you are more educated and cultured than all of them combined. Well, I didn't deny it. In my past life, I taught myself literature, economics, finance, and math right after quitting mercenary work. I've sat at negotiation tables with men from all over the world and cornered them. Arrogant 20somes mean nothing. Liam practically begged, "Teach me how to argue like that. I'm terrible with words. They make me so mad I can't think straight. I considered it." The Liam would face tough spots without me soon. He needed a weapon way stronger than words. "Liam, do you have a great leader badge at home? The standard one." He said, "Sure, every family does, but why?" I smiled wickedly. "Keep it under your shirt everyday. Next time someone starts a fight, let them hit the badge. Then show them what they just hit. Liam's jaw completely dropped. He almost said the name but stopped himself. Hit him like lightning brother Jack. You are the worst human being I have ever met. Maybe. But a little dirty trick keeps you from becoming a punching bag. I tried being nice. They wanted to get those kids home safely by having them help carry the bear. The result? They demanded the best parts of my kill after I just saved them from certain death. Kindness is totally wasted on them. Back on the ice. Those four guys watched us walk off with the bear. Donnie refused to go home empty-handed, who wasted ammo, who got his dog killed, who lost the body, and got humiliated by a rural hunter. Going back like that was totally unbearable. He said it straight out. I figured out the safety on these rifles. We have the weapons. Victor hyped the guys up if we see another bear. We won't panic. Are we really crawling back to the dorms with nothing? What do we tell the party secretary when we need a favor? We need a trophy. Kenny and Frank hesitated the two who wet themselves. But Victor knew exactly which buttons to push you too, like the girls back at the dorm, right? Imagine them finding out you peed your pants over a bear. That did it. Kenny and Frank stood up, faces burning. Let's move. We're not going back without a prize. Four idiots with stolen rifles marching deeper into mountains that almost killed them. I didn't look back once.