In that split second, Li Weidong felt a sudden chill brush against his ankle, as if something had just flown right past the top of his foot.
Looking down, he saw a long, slender creature flicked away by the stick, landing several meters off.
The moment it hit the ground, a soft rustling sound echoed through the underbrush.
Before anyone could react, Ye Qing braced one hand against a large rock and leaped lightly to where the snake lay. Landing smoothly, she drew her wood-cutting knife, grabbed the serpent’s head firmly with her left hand, and struck cleanly with her right.
With a sharp swish, the head was severed.
The young militiamen standing nearby watched her swift, decisive movements and felt a cold prickle run down their own necks. Li Weidong instinctively reached up and touched his throat, as if checking it was still intact.
Before anyone could speak, Ye Qing stood up, holding the snake’s body in one hand and its head in the other.
She gestured for Li Weidong to shine his flashlight over it. “Take a good look—triangular head, and a white stripe running behind the eyes. That makes it a venomous snake, doesn’t it?”
She narrowed her eyes and studied it closely.
Li Anping leaned in for a better look, and the instant he recognized the head, his face turned ashen. “That’s a tuqiuzi—the local pit viper! It’s highly poisonous. Last year, someone from the neighboring village was bitten and died, and another was left paralyzed. Herb gatherers fear this snake more than any other up here, and there are plenty of them around.”
As he spoke, realization dawned on him. He reached over and slapped his cousin on the shoulder, his expression turning serious. “Weidong—hurry up and thank Sister Ye Qing! Once we get back down, you owe her a whole ham for New Year’s. If she hadn’t acted just now, one bite from that thing and you might not have lived to see tomorrow!”
Ye Qing examined the severed head, privately thinking its venom wasn’t nearly as deadly as Li Anping made it sound. She’d encountered this species in her past life—it was called the Ussuri pit viper, common in these mountains. Though its bite was painful and disabling, it was rarely fatal.
“All right, Anping, stop scaring him,” she said aloud. “A bite from this one won’t kill you—though you’d walk up the mountain on your own two feet and be carried back down flat on a stretcher, that much is true.”
Back and forth they went, turning Li Weidong pale with fright. Cold sweat broke out across his forehead, and he felt so grateful he nearly dropped to his knees right then and there. He kept promising over and over that once they returned home, he’d bring her a fine ham for the Spring Festival.
Seeing this, the rest of the men instinctively shuffled closer to stand beside Ye Qing.
She pulled Li Weidong nearer as well, her tone firm and instructive. “Remember this: never stand near puddles or damp ground at night in the mountains. Right where you were standing was a water hole. Frogs and mice gather there, and where their prey goes, snakes follow.”
Li Weidong could only nod numbly, while the others quickly agreed. No one dared to question her judgment anymore—they now trusted her completely.
Without further delay, Ye Qing found a dry vine, tied it tightly around the snake’s neck to stop the bleeding, and tossed the body neatly into her carrying basket. The severed head she flung far into the rushing stream nearby.
The others stared, confused. “Sister Ye Qing—are you planning to take it back to eat?”
Li Anping quickly chimed in. “If you want to eat it, you have to dress it right away. Remove the innards, gallbladder, and venom glands first—otherwise, the meat will taste foul and bitter.”
“It’s too late at night to linger by the stream,” Ye Qing shook her head. “More snakes will be drawn to the water. And if we butcher it here, the blood will leave a scent trail—do you want to invite every wild beast in the woods to come find us?”
Her reasoning made sense, and everyone fell silent.
Li Weidong eagerly stepped forward to relieve her of the basket, but Ye Qing declined.
After resting a while longer, eating a couple of flatbreads and drinking some water, Ye Qing noticed the men’s nerves had settled. She dusted off her clothes and stood up.
“All right—let’s keep going up.”
Once they entered the deeper part of the forest, Ye Qing forbade any more talking. She ordered them to tread as lightly as possible, moving quietly and carefully uphill.
Except for the narrow beams of their flashlights, the group made almost no sound as they climbed.
A route that took only two hours by daylight stretched to three and a half hours under Ye Qing’s guidance at night.
By the time the night was well advanced, they finally reached the spot where mushrooms were harvested during the day.
Ye Qing said nothing, but shone her flashlight back and forth across the ground. She spotted a jumble of human footprints, followed by a trail of large, cloven hoof-marks—proof that they had indeed run into wild boars, and quite a few of them at that.
“Look—there are smaller prints too. This is a herd with young piglets,” she whispered. “Thank goodness we came up tonight. A mother boar protecting her young is fiercely aggressive and won’t give up the chase easily. If we’d waited until morning, there’s no telling what would have happened to Tian Wuzi.”
Her words tightened everyone’s nerves. The two men carrying rifles gripped their weapons more firmly, scanning the surroundings with heightened alertness.
Ye Qing followed the tracks, carefully distinguishing Tian Wuzi’s footprints from the rest. Bit by bit, she traced their path.
Just as the men were starting to feel their energy drain away, the trail led them right to where Tian Wuzi was trapped.
The moment she spotted him, Ye Qing reached out and snatched a flashlight, switching it off instantly.
Li Weidong jumped in surprise. “Sister Qing—you scared me half to death!”
Ye Qing pointed toward the tree, then lowered her hand to indicate the ground beneath it. “Tian Wuzi is stuck up there, and there are a dozen boars gathered below. Most forest animals avoid bright light at night—if you shine that beam directly at them, you’ll only send them into a frenzy. Do you want to provoke them?”
Understanding immediately, Li Weidong quickly turned off his own light. “So what should I do, Sister Qing? Tell me how I can help.”
Ye Qing gave him an amused glance. “You have no experience in the mountains. For now, stay well back, keep your knife ready, and try not to get hurt. The last thing we need is to fight off boars and look after an injured man at the same time. Beyond that, keep watch. If you see an opening, strike fast and hard when you get the chance.”
Li Weidong nodded earnestly, as if receiving a sacred order.
Seeing his eagerness, the rest of the men felt more confident too. Truth be told, this was their first time venturing deep into the forest, and none of them really knew what to do—if it weren’t for pride, they’d have been asking Ye Qing for directions long before now.
After giving Li Weidong his instructions, Ye Qing turned her attention back to Tian Wuzi.
There was no moon that night, and visibility was extremely poor. But Ye Qing’s sharp eyes could still make out his situation. She pointed him out to the others while carefully assessing the danger.
Tian Wuzi was clinging tightly to the trunk of the tree, facing their direction. He was trembling uncontrollably, his gaze darting around in helpless panic—looking utterly pitiful.
Beneath the tree, around a dozen wild boars milled about. A few grazed on weeds nearby, while two stood directly under the trunk, staring upward as if calculating whether to ram the tree hard enough to shake him loose. Every time they charged the trunk, Tian Wuzi let out a hoarse, squealing cry, clinging on for dear life.
“Damn it—so many of them,” Li Anping cursed softly. “We only brought two rifles. That’s nowhere near enough.”
Ye Qing, who had been ready to step back and let them handle the rescue, glanced at him in surprise. “You plan to take on a whole herd of boars with just two rifles?”
“And a few more knives,” Li Anping added weakly. “That’s all we have.”
“Kill a dozen boars with that? And you intend to charge straight at them, head-on, as if you want to make them angry?” Ye Qing fired back in quick succession, clearly astonished.
Li Anping was left speechless, his face burning with embarrassment as he scratched his head awkwardly.
Another militiaman explained in a low voice. “We don’t know how else to fight them. We’ve always heard they fear fire and bright light, so in the past we went in with rifles, knives, gongs, and torches. But the noise and light only startled them, and they’d turn and charge right at us. Last year, one of our men was killed when we ran into a herd just like this.”
Ye Qing nodded—she’d already heard this story from Shi Fengxia earlier at the production team office.
She glanced again at the rifles in their hands. They were old, muzzle-loading hunting guns, not powerful modern firearms. A shot might sting, but it wouldn’t penetrate the boars’ thick hides enough to kill them; it would only enrage them further.
She kept this thought to herself, though. Given her current identity as a simple village girl, explaining the difference between firearms and their capabilities would raise far too many questions—she might even be suspected of being a spy or enemy agent.
Instead, she said aloud, “There are too many of them, they’re easily spooked, and their skin is far too tough. Knives alone won’t do the job. You’ll have to think of another way.”
“Sister Qing—have you hunted boars up here before?” Li Anping asked, now unconsciously addressing her with respect. He straightened up and looked at her humbly. “Can you give us a plan? Or better yet, will you help us get Tian Wuzi down safely? Name your terms, and we’ll see what we can do.”
He knew very well that Ye Qing had only agreed to come along and locate the man—not to join in fighting wild animals. Now that the situation was far more dangerous than expected, he had no choice but to turn to her for help.
Hearing him call her “Sister Qing,” Ye Qing looked at him with a faint, knowing smile. If her memory was right, Li Anping was actually several years older than she was. Still, it felt satisfying to see him defer to her authority.
She thought it over for a moment. “I’ll help you—but the terms change. Any boars we catch or kill tonight belong entirely to me. No sharing with the village. And I won’t do it alone—all of you will follow my lead.”
In short, she was asking the militiamen to work under her direction in exchange for her expertise.
“Those are my conditions. It’s up to you whether you agree. If you do, then every single one of you must obey my orders without question. If you refuse, I’ll just stand by and wait until you manage to rescue him yourselves, then lead you all back down the mountain. That’s the best I can do as a favor.” She spread her hands, leaving the choice entirely to them.
The men exchanged uncertain glances.
Li Anping weighed his options carefully, then asked, “What are the chances we can get him out alive and keep everyone from getting seriously hurt?”
Ye Qing considered. “I’m eighty percent certain we can rescue him. But to avoid injuries, you have to follow my instructions exactly.”
Li Anping gritted his teeth and made his decision. “All right—we’ll do it your way. You take command, and tell us what to do next.”