The next day, just as the sky was beginning to brighten.
Yang Bairao, still deep in sleep and dreaming of himself and Hanhan feeding little ducks together, was abruptly jolted awake.
"Time to wake up, little brother. Every single person remaining in the village must contribute. It's time to go out hunting."
Xiang Dongliu's tone held a hint of helplessness, but was mostly earnest.
He got up quickly; despite having the body of a sixty-year-old, his true age was only around forty.
"Get up, Yang Bailao. Everyone in the labor group has work to do. If you can't pull your weight, get lost."
Same old story!
Yang Bairao lazily dragged himself up. Truth be told, with a younger body, waking up with energy came quickly too.
Stepping out to the village gathering area, the three of them saw a bustling crowd of villagers carrying their various homemade hunting weapons.
Calling them weapons was a stretch—they were mostly just low-impact bows and arrows, stones for throwing, grass vines for binding, and stone knives and stone swords for slashing.
To Yang Bairao's eyes, these stone knives looked like they would shatter at the slightest touch, the kind that wouldn't even make a dog yelp if you hit it with one.
Clutched in Yang Bairao's hand was a large stone he had dug up from under a patch of grass when he first arrived a few days ago.
He had ground one end of the stone to a sharp point and the other to a blunt edge for a comfortable grip.
"Move out!"
With a loud shout from the lead hunter, the crowd quickly fell into step behind him.
No one asked Yang Bairao anything, and no one paid him any mind. To these villagers, Yang Bairao's arrival was probably just the addition of one more hunting tool, nothing more.
"Where are we going?"
Yang Bairao asked Xiang Die in a low voice.
Xiang Die said nothing, turning her head to look at her father beside her.
Though they hadn't spent much time together these past few days, the naturally thick-skinned Yang Bairao certainly hadn't warmed up to Xiang Die yet.
Xiang Dongliu kept close to the back of the group, his pace neither fast nor slow, his breathing somewhat heavy.
"There's a gathering place for a herd of Steppe Deer to the west. Aside from running fast, Steppe Deer pose no danger to hunters."
After a brief pause, he added, "It's fine around our dwelling place—no wild beasts. But I've heard that deeper in, there's a pack of Steppe Grey Wolves. Once hunters run into them, annihilation is certain."
With that, Xiang Dongliu fell silent. Yang Bairao noticed that every extra word Xiang Dongliu spoke made his breathing heavier; it was clear he lacked the stamina and was struggling to keep up with the group's pace.
Deciding to ask no more, Yang Bairao focused on following the procession.
As they walked, Yang Bairao, unable to keep his mouth shut, hurried forward a few steps to catch up with a middle-aged man in front, drawing in close.
He patted his waist, felt no pocket, and muttered with a soft spit, "No cigarettes? This isn't the right way to make friends."
"Hey there, buddy..."
Unable to help himself, Yang Bairao called out to the man ahead.
The man kept pace with the group without turning his head: "What is it?"
The cold, lukewarm two words squeezed out of the man's mouth made Yang Bairao feel like he had a chance.
"Your little brother Yang Bairao here wants to know if you might tell me where we're headed, buddy?"
Yang Bairao wanted to sound like an ancient scholar, but it came out all wrong. He cupped his fists in front of his chest, yet the man didn't even spare him a glance.
"West!"
The man was a man of few words.
"No kidding!"
Yang Bairao blurted out.
The man turned his head to glare at Yang Bairao, anger flashing in his eyes.
"Sorry, sorry! I meant I'm stating the obvious, I know we're heading west!"
Yang Bairao hurried to explain.
The man's expression softened slightly—he wasn't entirely unapproachable—and he explained in detail, "About twenty thousand steps west, there are Steppe Deer. Everyone just needs to chase and hem in the stragglers."
As he spoke, he glanced sideways at Xiang Dongliu, who was struggling to keep up, and continued, "A few days ago, we almost succeeded, but those Steppe Deer broke through right past Xiang Dongliu and his daughter. They couldn't catch them afterward either, and ended up bringing you back instead."
When he finished, another man nearby, who had clearly been listening in, chimed in, "It takes a few days for Steppe Deer to herd back together after we scatter them. It's been just long enough; they should be gathered up again now. We have to bag one this time. Oh, by the way, my name is Xiang Xiliu, Xiang Dongliu's younger brother. The guy walking next to you is Xiang Nanliu, our village chief!"
"The village chief is also Xiang Dongliu's younger brother? You guys are really casual with your names!"
Yang Bairao spoke before he could think, but once the words slipped out, it was too late to take them back.
Xiang Nanliu maintained his expressionless look. "That has nothing to do with them. My older brother is named Xiang..."
"Xiang Beiliu?"
Yang Bairao offered.
"Xiang Tian!"
Xiang Nanliu spat out two words and immediately shut his mouth, refusing to answer another single question no matter how many Yang Bairao threw at him.
Finding it dull, Yang Bairao tried asking Xiang Xiliu, but Xiang Xiliu simply turned his head and ignored him.
Yang Bairao spread his hands, dropped back a few steps, and returned to Xiang Dongliu's side.
Before long, they truly arrived at the deer herd's gathering grounds. Spotting the animals in the distance, the crowd surged forward in a noisy uproar.
Yang Bairao's eyes widened as one astonished two-syllable exclamation after another popped out of his mouth.
Watching the charging crowd, he suddenly felt as though he had been transported to the African savannah.
These savages!!!
Oh no, this mob of villagers gave off the uncanny vibe of an African tribe out on a hunt.
Xiang Dongliu's pathetically weak running posture made him look like a hunched-backed ape.
Xiang Die was different; though the young girl's run lacked power, her form was noticeably much more graceful than that of these burly men.
As for whatever-his-name-Xiliu running right along with the pack, Yang Bairao couldn't even be bothered to comment.
Before long, the group genuinely managed to scatter the herd of Steppe Deer, leaving a single straggler surrounded.
Cries of "Ho-yo-ha-ya!" rose and fell in waves around the trapped animal.
"If they started slapping their mouths with their hands right now, they'd practically be wild savages!"
Yang Bairao stood dumbfounded; a scene like this was truly a first in his life.
The Steppe Deer darted this way and that within the ring of people. In no time, it looked as though it was about to break through the encirclement—and the spot it was breaking toward happened to be right where Xiang Dongliu and his daughter were stationed.
"Close the circle! Shoot arrows, throw stones!"
Xiang Nanliu ordered with a cold face, continuously directing the crowd.
Yang Bairao held back from closing in, watching the others' postures while his mind raced.
In a flash, he thought of numerous modern, scientific hunting methods. Rejecting any approach relying on machinery, his mind went straight to traps.
"Savages are just savages, a bunch of uncultured barbarians!"
Yang Bairao muttered softly, clutching his dead, powerless smartphone, wanting to pull it out and take a picture, but managing to hold back just in time.
"Yo-ho..."
With a long whistle, the chaotic crowd erupted anew.
When Yang Bairao snapped back to reality, he saw that the Steppe Deer had indeed broken past Xiang Dongliu and his daughter, instantly plunging into the tall grass ahead and vanishing from sight.
Reproaches drowned out self-reproaches, leaving Xiang Dongliu and his daughter feeling deeply wronged.
The jumbled din drew Yang Bairao's attention: "I told you not to marry your daughter off and let her be adopted into another household, but you wouldn't listen. Look at this now—you two are going to work yourselves to death."
"Great, another empty-handed trip. Tomorrow we're hunting Steppe Pigs. Do you two think your bodies can handle a Steppe Pig's charge?"
"Steppe Pigs? Those two are basically pigs draining the village's resources, taking up our supplies and pulling zero weight."
"And they even dragged back another freeloading burden to live off the village's protection."
"Drive them out! Drive them out!"
As the crowd raised a ruckus, Xiang Dongliu had gritted his teeth through the harsher remarks earlier, but when a few people started taking the lead in shouting the words "drive them out," the complexions of father and daughter noticeably changed.
"Alright, alright! Quiet down!"
Xiang Nanliu's voice carried the loudest. As soon as he spoke, the crowd quieted down a fraction.
The villagers looked toward Xiang Nanliu, waiting for him to issue a verdict. Though he spoke little, Xiang Nanliu commanded genuine authority among them.
"No more talk of driving them out!"
The first sentence hit the main point, offering Xiang Dongliu and his daughter a measure of relief, but his next words made both of their faces drain completely of color.
"At the end of the year, Xiang Die will be given to the Steppe Cavalry, and Xiang Dongliu can stay in the village to enjoy his remaining years in peace. That settles it."
"No! Please, no! Just drive us out instead!"
Xiang Dongliu shouted frantically. Despite his failing stamina, this time he roared it out with every ounce of strength he had.
Banishing them was clearly a far better option than handing his daughter over to the Steppe Cavalry!
Xiang Dongliu cried out hoarsely, repeating the same plea, begging the crowd to choose banishment instead. Yet the villagers clearly deferred to Xiang Nanliu's decision, standing off in the distance and keeping silent.
"Xiang Die will be used to pay off the supplies our clan is supposed to hand over for the coming year. That's how it's going to be."
Xiang Nanliu's words carried the weight of a village-wide decree.
...
"How annoying. Getting transmigrated and running into this kind of cliché melodramatic plot. Watch how I, Yang Bairao, snap my fingers and turn this cliché into dust."
Shedding his slouch, Yang Bairao straightened his posture and strode step-by-step toward the crowd. Feeling the sudden aura of a protagonist making his grand entrance, even his walk took on a swaggering rhythm.
A few people noticed him but didn't care. Xiang Dongliu and his daughter saw him too, but knew it was hopeless.
Xiang Xiliu didn't dare say much, but as he watched Yang Bairao approach, a sliver of something different—something he couldn't quite put his finger on—stirred in his heart.
"Hold on!"
Striking a pose, Yang Bairao thrust one hand forward, palm facing out, looking the picture of a righteous hero making his debut.
"Zivi, wait a minute!"
Remembering a meme photo he had once seen, his current self fit the description to a T.
"What if I help you catch the prey—can we rewind everything back to two hours ago?!"
"What's two hours?"
Someone muttered under their breath.
"That's not important!"
When it came to certain things, Yang Bairao's ears were quite sharp, though he only kept that thought to himself.
"I mean, your hunting methods are all wrong! I have a much simpler way to lead you to bag even more prey!"
As a modern man who had studied five thousand years of history, Yang Bairao felt as though he had been possessed by an expert!