Under the cover of night, the small mountain village lay in tranquil silence. With no evening entertainment to speak of, villagers usually finished dinner early, climbed onto their heated brick beds, puffed a few bowls of dry tobacco, and drifted off to sleep accompanied by the occasional bark of a dog.
At the edge of the village, Liu Dashao crouched low, his back hunched, hands tucked into his sleeves, and stamped his feet repeatedly against the bitter cold.
“Damn it, didn’t we agree to meet here at midnight? So why isn’t there even a soul in sight?”
Standing on tiptoe, he peered into the distance. The mountains were pitch black, except for a few dim, eerie green orbs flickering occasionally—ghostly lights drifting over the nearby graveyard.
The wind was fierce, slicing through the skin like knives and howling down his collar, finally prompting Liu Dashao to sneeze—the first of the early winter—and not just one, but two, followed by twin strings of mucus. After the unpleasant task of wiping his face clean, Liu muttered to himself, “Could those three little brats actually be playing a trick on me?”
“Come to think of it, that’s actually possible!” As the saying goes, good people tend to be good, and bad people tend to be bad as a group. Reflecting on their past misdeeds, Liu began to doubt.
“Damn you, Tian Guoqiang! If you really stood me up tonight, tomorrow I’ll definitely tell your dad about that time last year you spied on the little girl bathing.” Tian Guoqiang, the village chief’s son, hadn’t inherited much from his father except for his cunning. He was the mastermind behind the four notorious rascals of Xiu Shuicun, responsible for eighty percent of their wicked schemes. Tricking blind men into walking into walls or misleading new mail carriers to the graveyard were just the light stuff. When they really got creative, there was no trick too dirty or too wild.
Still, Liu Dashao decided to wait a little longer. After all, he had nothing else to do at home, and since he was already out, going back would mean crawling under his parents’ watchful eyes and into bed obediently.
Ten minutes passed in the blink of an eye, but for Liu Dashao shivering in the cold wind, it felt like an eternity.
Finally, some movement broke the stillness in the distance.
On the narrow path leading into the valley, several figures slowly emerged. They wore coarse cotton clothes. The one in front was tall and thin, swinging a kerosene lamp and sweeping its light across the roadside stones as if searching for the way. Behind him came two others—one of average height and one short and stout like a freshly harvested winter melon. They trotted along in small steps, grinning happily, and carried a struggling speckled mountain chicken. Perhaps from walking so far, the fat boy occasionally wiped sweat from his cheek with his sleeve.
“They’re here!” Seeing them, Liu Dashao’s heart leapt with joy and he rushed forward laughing. These three boys were indeed the companions he had been waiting for. The tall one was Tian Guoqiang, the village chief’s son. The one of average height was Chen Xiaomazi, a pockmarked boy, and the fat one was Goudan.
Liu Dashao’s first move was to punch Tian Guoqiang hard on the shoulder. “Damn you, why are you so late? I’ve been waiting until nearly dawn!”
“Don’t give me that! It’s only just past midnight—roosters don’t crow before six! Dawn, my foot!” Tian Guoqiang raised his wristwatch, holding it close to the kerosene lamp to show Liu.
“Big deal! That’s just the watch your old man gave you. Always showing off like a rooster.” Liu Dashao, already slightly annoyed, grew even more irritated at the sight of the watch.
“You wouldn’t understand. It’s foreign-made. It’s accurate!” Tian Guoqiang said solemnly.
“I don’t care where it’s from. Hey, where the hell were you three just now? You look like you came down from the mountain.”
“Smart!” Tian Guoqiang gave a thumbs-up, then took the mountain chicken from Goudan and waved it in front of Liu Dashao. “Take a look at this!”
“Wild chicken?” Liu Dashao’s eyes lit up, and his half-empty stomach began to growl.
“Actually, we arrived earlier, but we got hungry. You know how it is—when you play cards on an empty stomach, your head gets foggy, your thinking gets cloudy, and your performance drops. So we thought we’d go up the mountain and try our luck hunting for some game. And wouldn’t you know it, we hit the jackpot—caught a clueless mountain chicken.”
“Hehe, Big Brother Liu, my dad says the brighter the colors on a snake, the more poisonous it is. But with pheasants, the brighter the feathers, the tastier the meat. I don’t know if that’s true or not?” Goudan’s drool had already pooled at the corner of his mouth.
“That’s just like you—can’t walk straight when food’s around. Look at your figure—keep this up and no girl will ever want you!” Liu Dashao pinched Goudan’s chubby cheeks, testing their squishiness, and sighed in mock disappointment.
“Alright, alright, time is precious. Let’s find a place and eat it first!” Tian Guoqiang interrupted.
“Great idea!”
The hills here weren’t high or steep, more like large mounds of earth. So it didn’t take long for the boys to find a sheltered spot. They each began preparing the midnight feast with the seriousness of chefs.
In Northeast China, a couple of scoops of soil anywhere would reveal rich black earth. Since it was called black earth, it was naturally dark and hard, making it the perfect cooking utensil for the four boys’ gathering.
Setting down the kerosene lamp, Tian Guoqiang took the chicken to a nearby stream to gut it, while Liu Dashao surprisingly returned with some water. He mixed the black earth with the water, kneading it carefully like dough, working on something mysterious.
Soon, the plucked and cleaned chicken was handed over. Liu Dashao reached into his coat and pulled out a small pouch. Upon closer inspection, it contained salt, chili powder, soy sauce powder, and other seasonings. He sprinkled a bit carefully inside and on the outside of the chicken. Then, taking a few large cabbage leaves stolen from a garden patch by Goudan, he wrapped the chicken in them and placed it into the black earth pot he had just prepared. On the mountain, dry corn stalks and leftover bricks from construction served naturally as their firewood and cooking platform.
Tian Guoqiang opened the kerosene lamp and lit a wheat straw, igniting the pile of firewood. The fire grew stronger, first releasing the scent of earth, then mingling with the aroma of roasting game. The smell was intoxicating, making mouths water. When the fire was nearly ready, the moisture in the soil had evaporated, and the black earth cracked dry. Without caring about the heat, Liu Dashao extinguished the fire, used a stick to break apart the hardened earth, and there it was—the beautifully cooked chicken was finally exposed.
Chickens in the 1960s were naturally raised, fed on millet and grains, free from pollution, and thus naturally tender and delicious. Even more so when caught in the wild—the flavor was indescribable, making mouths water instantly. Liu Dashao didn’t bother with formalities and immediately tore off a drumstick, devouring it heartily. The skin was crispy from the fire, and the meat, though slightly coarser than domestic chicken due to the bird’s constant running and jumping in the wild, was chewier and bursting with flavor. Tian Guoqiang grabbed a drumstick too, while Goudan and Xiaomazi, already eyeing it hungrily, quickly devoured the rest.
After finishing the chicken and kicking out the fire, the boys patted their full bellies, still feeling a little unsatisfied.
Wiping the grease from his mouth, Liu Dashao turned to Tian Guoqiang. “Strong, did you bring the cards? It’s time we got to work.”
“Relax!” Tian Guoqiang pulled out two brand-new packs of playing cards from a small bundle behind him. “I just took them from home this afternoon. Brand new, never opened. Enough for a few rounds of Landlord.”
“Great! Goudan, Xiaomazi, are you two done yet? That’s all you’ve got? Hurry up! Don’t be like a bunch of girls!” Liu Dashao nodded, turned around, saw the two still licking their fingers, and laughed as he scolded.
Thus, the four of them, each carrying a bright kerosene lamp, followed the mountain path, braving the cold wind, and quietly made their way toward the Wuxian Lingguan Temple. After all, it was freezing out, and playing cards around a fire inside a ruined temple was a hundred times better than sitting out in the open.
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