Chapter 177 - 173: Unreturning Souls in the Blizzard

Chapter 177: Chapter 173: Unreturning Souls in the Blizzard

"Take them home? You mean, take them back to their homes?"

Take them home... This posed a dilemma for everyone. These mountains stretched on endlessly, a branch of the Changbai range that reached all the way to the neighboring province. There were at least a dozen villages in the vicinity alone. Who knew which village they were from? How could they possibly take them home!

"First, let’s deal with these wolves. We’ll find a different spot to bury the men for now. Later, we can see if we can find out which village they’re from and have their families come get them. Quick, bleed these wolves before they freeze solid!"

Hearing this, everyone sprang into action. Including the kills from General and the others, they had harvested a total of three wolves this time. There was also the mangled corpse of another wolf, which had been mostly devoured. It was likely killed by the two men earlier, then eaten by its own pack.

Most of the group was used to this kind of work. Only Lin Zhiyin was here for the first time, but she was very smart and proactively found tasks that required help but not skill, such as helping prepare the bodies for burial.

Jin Xiuying glanced at Lin Zhiyin several times, feeling puzzled. ’They can all remain calm seeing dead bodies because they’ve been through it before,’ she thought. ’But why is Lin Zhiyin so composed? Surely she hasn’t experienced this too?’ It just goes to show how a husband and wife can be on the same wavelength; just as she was pondering this, Zhao Wenwu went ahead and asked directly.

"Dirty Girl, aren’t you scared?"

Zhao Wendong shot his second brother a displeased look. ’Dirty Girl, my ass,’ he thought. ’Who’s ever seen such a beautiful "Dirty Girl"?’ But since it was Zhao Wenwu who said it, Zhao Wendong could only glare. He wasn’t even afraid of his own father, but he was truly at a loss when it came to his second brother.

Hearing him, Lin Zhiyin adjusted the bangs on her forehead, her expression still tinged with sorrow. She was silent for a moment before speaking slowly.

"What I see aren’t just dead men. I see two husbands, fathers to their children, sons to their elderly parents, brothers to their siblings. What I feel isn’t fear. All I feel is sorrow and regret."

She paused, her hands never stopping their work. It was as if she were organizing her thoughts, or perhaps lost in a certain memory. After a moment, she continued.

"I used to live in a very comfortable environment. I never imagined that just staying alive could be so difficult. Now I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Everything I’m doing to help them is making me cherish life more, cherish the people around me more, and cherish every day, every moment I spend with all of you."

Lin Zhiyin’s voice was soft, but her words landed heavily on everyone’s hearts. Indeed, just living was no easy feat. Death was a constant companion. In truth, humans were just like animals, struggling with all their might to procreate and continue their lineage, always having to face hardship and the end of life.

Soon, the wolf carcasses were processed, and the bodies of the two hunters killed by the Wolf Pack were prepared for burial. The two men were relatively lucky; if Zhao Wendong and his group had arrived just ten or so minutes later, there would have been nothing left but a pile of bones.

Zhao Wendong bent down and picked up the two men’s hunting rifles—one an old matchlock and the other an old-fashioned shotgun. The barrels were covered in slushy snow, bone-chilling to the touch. These weren’t for selling; they were to be kept to help identify the two men in the future.

The sun in the west had dipped so low it was almost gone. The golden-red light was being swallowed, bit by bit, by the inky darkness. The woods had already grown dim. The wind, carrying flurries of snow, whipped up more fiercely, howling like a wailing ghost as it passed through the tree trunks. The temperature plummeted.

The white puffs of breath from the people and the Gouzi alike froze into tiny ice particles the moment they left their mouths. A layer of white frost clung to the eyelashes and corners of their mouths—men, women, and the Gouzi alike. The group walked back a short distance and chose a relatively flat spot. Zhao Wendong crouched down, drew his bayonet, and jabbed it into the ground. The tip struck the frozen earth, chipping off nothing but a white mark.

"Can’t dig. We’ll have to give them a snow burial."

"Right!"

Hearing this, Zhao Wenjun and the others got to work. They quickly cleared a pit in the snow, placed the two bodies inside, and began to fill it back up. With each layer of snow, they pressed down some branches. They didn’t just cover the top; they also blocked the sides tightly with more branches. Then they continued adding more snow and branches, over and over, constantly packing it down with their rifle butts or by stomping on it.

Soon, they had built a snow mound half a man’s height, with forked branches sticking out of it every which way. The compacted, freezing snow grew harder and harder with each press. In no time, it would freeze into a solid shell of ice, ensuring that no beast could claw it open or bite through it.

"Find something heavy for the top!"

After Zhao Wendong spoke, everyone began grabbing thick, heavy logs from nearby to weigh down the sides. Zhao Wenwu, meanwhile, had found a huge boulder weighing over a hundred pounds somewhere. He carried it over with both hands and slammed it onto the top of the snow mound. The whole structure let out a loud THUD. Zhao Wendong was genuinely afraid Zhao Wenwu would make it collapse, but thankfully, they hadn’t cut any corners, and it held firm under the great stone’s weight.

They carefully checked the surroundings again, sealing every possible gap. This would both block the wind and prevent the Wolf Pack or other beasts from returning to dig up the bodies. After all that was done, Zhao Wendong broke off a few thick oak and pine branches. He stuck them diagonally into the snow in front of the mound, then bent the twigs to point in the direction of Dragon King Pond.

This was a secret sign used by the mountain hunters. It meant that someone was buried here, waiting to be moved and reburied properly. Anyone who came later would understand at a glance and wouldn’t disturb it. If they saw any weak spots, they would even help repair them. He also carved markers on the surrounding trees to make it easy to find the location again by following the trail.

On the way back, everyone was silent. As the sky darkened, Xiaojin returned to his cage, and Xiaobai stopped running around, obediently following the group back to the cave stronghold.

Zhao Wendong, still worried the Wolf Pack might return for a sneak attack, walked at the very back, paying attention to the thoughts around him and the sounds of their surroundings. It wasn’t until the sky was completely dark and the group, guided by torches and flashlights, could see the stone slab of their stronghold in the distance that Zhao Wendong finally confirmed he hadn’t heard anything unusual.

"Phew! We’re finally back!"

Zhao Wenwu let out a cheer and ran ahead to move the stone slab. The group filed in, one after another, all retreating into the cave. They placed the game in the coldest corner, then began to take off their gear and prepare dinner.

Illuminated by torches and the cooking fire, the entire stronghold was bright, offering excellent visibility. The temperature near the stove was quite decent. With the straw and quilts they had gradually brought in over the past few days, along with various other supplies, it might not have been more comfortable than sleeping at home, but it was far better than the snow dens other hunters had to sleep in when they were in the mountains.

Zhao Wenjun and the others took stock of the day’s haul. In the end, they had killed three wolves, which, added to the one large and three small badgers from before, plus a wild rabbit, made for a pretty good harvest. Satisfied smiles appeared on the faces of Zhao Wenjun and Zhao Ergou, and Zhao Wenwu looked on with excitement.

"Third Brother, not a bad day, huh? There are still plenty of those wolves out there. Let’s go get all of them! If we kill that White Wolf, won’t that be worth a whole cartload of bricks?"

"That White Wolf is too cunning and not easy to track. But our haul today was indeed pretty good."

Zhao Wendong wasn’t just saying that to placate his second brother. For hunters like the two who died in the Wolf Pack’s attack today, this was likely all they would have been able to harvest in an entire winter. After subtracting the costs of their supplies and accounting for all the hardship and suffering they endured, they really wouldn’t have earned much. It was a tragedy that they had lost their lives in the mountains for so little.

And this was the reality for the hunters and common families in the area. With the arrival of the disastrous years, even the people of the Northeast—a region blessed with the richest resources, the nation’s "eldest son"—were facing the cruelest test of survival. And every single person was but a drop in the ocean of this tumultuous era.