Chapter Eleven: The Old Hunter
Unlike his previous hunting trips, this time Zhang Tiejun was fully prepared, fully aware that wolves were no foolish deer blindly walking into traps.
The footprints around the sheepfold were numerous and deep, clearly trampled by many wolves.
Though wolves in the mountains of Northeast China were not as destructive as tigers or bears, they were the most cunning creatures. Especially a pack bold enough to attack sheepfolds was certainly no ordinary threat. Even if Zhang Tiejun never missed, his old-fashioned flintlock hunting rifle only allowed for two shots.
The wolf pack wouldn’t give him the chance to reload, so Zhang Tiejun planned to use traps instead.
Fortunately, he found many iron traps in the wooden box, some rusty but still barely usable for catching wolves.
One reason Zhang Tiejun willingly took on this task was his own selfish motive.
Qiao Kangzhan had merely asked him to exterminate wolves, making it a legal and reasonable job. The pelts of gray wolves were incomparable to those of deer or reindeer. As long as he brought back some wolf claws or teeth as proof, he could handle the wolf skins himself.
This was a reluctant compromise. Zhang Tiejun’s family were hunters, and under current regulations, they were forbidden from farming. The commune wouldn’t supply farming tools like hoes or sleds, let alone seeds.
Even if it were allowed, Zhang Tiejun couldn’t afford the expense immediately. Humans were not like beasts; eating only meat without grains, vegetables, or fruit would soon disrupt the digestive system. Many had already died in this natural disaster, and Zhang Tiejun would never let such a fate befall his own family.
With his skills, he could skin the wolves and sell the pelts.
In this era, opportunists and lawbreakers were everywhere. Though regulations were strict, the black market thrived.
Economics was about supply and demand—where there was need, there would be supply. Especially now, survival was paramount, and often a blind eye was turned, especially in these desolate mountains of Northeast China.
If he was lucky, he might even trade for standard weapons and ammunition.
Wolf pelts were rare and valuable—one could fetch the price of three reindeer skins.
Zhang Tiejun didn’t think too far ahead. He preferred to avoid breaking laws when possible. His real plan was to save money to buy farming tools and seeds, gradually building an agricultural base deep in the mountains.
After filling his metal canteen with spring water and eating some venison, Zhang Tiejun made his way to the mid-mountain.
The mid-mountain plateau was flat, with dense woods and bushes, perfect for wolves to hunt and hide.
Unaware of the situation, Zhang Tiejun didn’t act rashly. He found a clearing and set six traps at varying distances, then hid behind a wind-sheltered spot to wait.
Patience was the key to success in the mountains of Northeast China.
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As the sun set, the biting cold wind intensified. With no time to build shelter, Zhang Tiejun curled up to conserve warmth.
Just as he was drifting off, he heard a faint, rhythmic rustling nearby.
Though subtle, the sound was steady and deliberate.
As a former commando, Zhang Tiejun was highly attuned to signs of danger.
The howling wolves immediately put him on alert. Pressing his back against a rock wall, he listened carefully to determine the direction.
The howls rose and fell, and a terrible thought crossed his mind.
“They’re gray wolves.”
Fortunately, the pack was not approaching from his direction, and there had been a moment of mournful howling earlier.
He grabbed a stick from the fire and stealthily moved toward the wolf howls.
After nearly two li, a pungent stench of blood assaulted his nostrils.
A person!
Rushing forward, Zhang Tiejun found an elderly man in his sixties, his white beard sprawling from chin to neck.
The old man clutched his calf, two deep canine bite wounds gushing fresh blood.
“Damn beasts!”
Despite sitting on the ground, the old man, once a tough man himself, cursed fiercely without fear.
“Are you okay?” Zhang Tiejun bent down to examine the wounds. “Just surface injuries, but you need to stop the bleeding quickly.”
Luckily, the man’s backpack was well stocked. Zhang Tiejun tore a strip of cloth to bind the wound simply but firmly.
“Unless you have broken bones elsewhere, you’ll recover with time. Pinch above the wound and conserve your energy—don’t overexert yourself.”
“Be careful!”
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Just as Zhang Tiejun prepared to help the old man stand, three pairs of green-glowing eyes appeared calmly in the distance.
Three gaunt old wolves emerged before them.
“This storm’s lasted too long. These must be the old wolves abandoned by the pack,” Zhang Tiejun said briefly.
Seeing the torchlight, the old wolves did not attack rashly. They circled him, baring sharp fangs like deadly daggers.
These elder wolves were extremely cunning hunters. They did not rely on a single killing strike. Aware that their age robbed them of strength, they waited for injured prey to succumb to the freezing wilderness.
The standoff was tense. As the torch’s flame waned, Zhang Tiejun knew his advantage was slipping. Once the torch died, the old wolves would surely swarm.
Kneeling with his body taut like an immovable fortress, Zhang Tiejun aimed his rifle at the fiercest wolf, its mouth stained with blood—the one that had bitten the old man.
The three wolves lowered their front paws, ready to strike.
There was only one chance!
Suddenly, Zhang Tiejun sprang up, throwing the sparking torch with all his might. It spun a full 360 degrees in the air before landing at the feet of one wolf.
Seizing the distraction, the other two lunged at his throat.
Prepared in advance, Zhang Tiejun rolled forward to evade the lethal attack, then took cover behind a large tree and fired decisively.
Bang!
The whistling steel ball shot straight from the barrel.
A spray of warm blood blossomed in the air—one old wolf fell dead beneath Zhang Tiejun’s gun.
The death of their companion shattered the courage of the remaining two, who fled without hesitation toward the mountaintop.