Though the village head was also a Qiaoxi villager, he did, after all, hold a semi-official station.
And so the villagers generally gave way to him and accepted his rule.
But Zhou Yuan was different — he wasn't of this world, so naturally he wasn't bound by its village rules.
Besides, he'd already been picked for conscription; he wouldn't be living in Qiaoxi much longer, so why would he care whether the village head liked him or not?
"Cluck, cluck, cluck..."
After a few squawks, Zhou Yuan came vaulting out of the courtyard, a chicken with a wrung neck in hand.
"Uncle Dahuang, we'll feast tonight.
You dress this chicken for me, eat your fill without a worry — I'll bear the bad name, you won't lose out."
"This — this — Shitou, this is all your doing, it's nothing to do with me."
Zhao Dahuang fumbled to catch the chicken Zhou Yuan tossed over, wishing he could give himself a slap.
How could he be such a glutton — one slip and the rascal had dragged him onto the cart.
"Look how timid you are. Carry on like this and I'll eat it myself — won't leave you a drop of soup."
"Don't — since we're here, how could there be none for me?
Come quick, over to the earthen slope at the east end. My teeth are bad; let's get a clay pot and stew it till it falls apart."
"Right. You fetch some more salt and a big piece of ginger; I'll go dig a fire-pit first."
In the dark of night, two furtive figures ran from the north of the village to the east and, with crude tools, set to stewing chicken.
In this moment, Zhao Dahuang suddenly felt Zhou Yuan wasn't mad at all — the boy was very likely using a show of madness to wring out real benefits.
"Shitou, I see it now. Sinister as you are, you're not the least bit stupid.
It's just the two of us now. Once we've eaten the meat, find a stick and give me a knock; I'll topple over and you make your run.
That way we'll have done right by you — you call me uncle, and I can't treat you like some good-for-nothing."
"That won't do, Uncle Dahuang. I really do mean to go have a look at the army camp."
"What? You want to go, yet you carry on like a demon all day, ruining your name — and then you really do mean to serve? What on earth are you after?
Something's off with you, boy. How'd you turn so conscientious all of a sudden?"
"Listen to you. I've always had a conscience.
As the saying goes, the crying child gets the candy. If I didn't kick up a fuss, would the village look after me like this?"
Zhou Yuan's words were forever half true and half false. At first he really had meant to run.
Now he didn't — not because his conscience had swelled, but because of the steady stream of skills he was generating.
He didn't want to hide away in this barren village, where forget meat, getting enough flatcake was already a stretch.
He needed more resources, broader space.
So he meant to walk the service road and see if he could land a post in the camp — to learn this world's situation while using the camp's resources to strengthen himself.
"Shitou, you really are something. They all call you a fool — I say you're the cleverest of all.
And you've caught a good time, too. Back when I was small, every household went hungry; people fought over conscription slots — they'd never have let you carry on like this."
"Listen to you. It's only because you all insist I go that I tease you for fun.
If you were scrambling to go, maybe I'd have let you have my place."
"Do I look like a fool to you? Who'd believe your ghost stories?"
Though well on in years, Zhao Dahuang was uncommonly nimble; feeding the fire and fanning it needed not a finger from Zhou Yuan — he truly seemed a doting elder.
"Uncle Dahuang, let me put something to you. Don't go for this conscription — let your own boy go.
Those old bones of yours give out on the road and you really won't come back.
I promised to carry Ergou home; I couldn't carry you too. A man's cheap away from home, and so's a ghost — better not to die a stranger's death in a strange land."
Fanning the flames, Zhao Dahuang fell into a rare silence at Zhou Yuan's words.
He rubbed his rough, broad hands, wanting to say something, but all that reached his lips was a single line.
"Shitou, the meat's done. Your teeth are good — eat up quick, or it'll go tough in a bit.
Just leave me a mouthful of soup. I'm past it; my gut can't break down all that grease."
"Right. I'll save you a couple of chicken feet to gnaw."
"You really are something. Can't even take a graceful hint — I do think you're truly dim."
Zhao Dahuang didn't want to speak of his family's affairs, and Zhou Yuan didn't press. He snapped a thin twig into chopsticks and merrily set to eating the meat.
Seeing the boy stand on no ceremony at all, Zhao Dahuang feared that if he was slow off the mark he wouldn't get a single proper piece of meat.
So he snapped off a twig too and reached into the pot. Luck was with him — one dip and he fished out a fine piece with the skin on, the oily chicken skin so glistening it stung his eyes.
"Eat up, Uncle Dahuang, don't stand on ceremony with me. Once you've learned to filch a chicken, you can treat me back."
"Then you'll go hungry — I could never learn your sinister ways."
A flick of the chopsticks and the meat dropped back into the pot; another rummage brought up a chicken head, and the withered old man cradled it and gnawed away with relish.
Zhou Yuan glanced at Zhao Dahuang sucking the chicken head, and thoughtfully picked out a chicken foot for him.
"Uncle Dahuang, have a chicken hand too, build yourself up — let go if you can't chew it."
"My teeth are just fine. There's not one human word in that mouth of yours."
Having eaten the chicken and drunk the soup, Zhou Yuan lay back across the grass, observing his attribute panel; only when the health bar began to rise did a satisfied smile show.
About an hour passed, and his health bar recovered from 91% to 97%.
Most of a chicken had gone into Zhou Yuan's mouth, but the health recovered wasn't much, and the recovery slow.
The chicken was, in the end, too scrawny, and his "Food Replenishment" skill too low a level.
"Hm?"
Zhou Yuan looked toward the river channel to the east and sat bolt upright.
"What is it, Shitou — not full? Have another couple of pieces?"
"Uncle Dahuang, tidy up this crime scene for me in a bit. I'm off to the river for a wash."
"Running off again? Weren't we agreed to serve together? Hurry and give me that knock with the stick, or I'll have no way to explain myself."
"Back in a moment — no need to lie to you."
Zhao Dahuang watched Zhou Yuan melt swiftly into the night, let out a heavy sigh, and then went back to gnawing his bones, unhurried.
Zhou Yuan hadn't lied. He'd just caught, by chance, a glimpse of two broken health bars moving toward the stone arch bridge.
The shape of those bars was plainly human, not the short, thin bars of poultry.
In the dead of night, what were two low-health figures doing running to the riverside — about to duel, or jump in?
Zhou Yuan hesitated, then decided to follow and take a look. Not that he was a busybody — but in all of Qiaoxi Village, he was the only one who wore "I'll cut a man down" on his lips and had even backed it with deeds.
He worried someone might kill in secret under his name and leave him holding the blame.
When he neared the stone arch bridge, he found one health bar enter the river and vanish, while the other sat still and silent.
He didn't rush up to see the person behind the bar, but waited quietly, meaning to see whose house this bar would return to.
To his surprise, before long the one who'd jumped into the river surfaced again, rejoined the one on the bank, and the two strolled unhurriedly back toward Qiaoxi Village.
Zhou Yuan didn't track people, only moving health bars, so he kept a fair distance and went unnoticed by the pair.
"Hm — Ergou's place, of all things. Didn't that fellow just take a wife, run his legs to jelly?
How's he got the time to dash to the riverside in the dead of night? Bored of the bedroom — out for a bit of fieldwork to liven things up?"