The enormous sun, withering away its last rays, retreated completely into the valley. The weather in early autumn was remarkably crisp, and the tall trees, adorned with sparse golden leaves, danced joyfully in the wind. On the dense earth, countless plants, though nearing their twilight years, still displayed boundless hope and vitality. They seemed to know that after the harsh winter, spring would arrive once again, bringing with it their own rebirth.
At that moment, beside a small path, a small pine flower mouse cautiously peeked out from between a patch of mugwort. Its cunning eyes darted about, its pink paws clasped against its chest.
This was the only mountain road leading to the village ahead, and this little mouse had already found delicious dried meat on this path more than once.
However, before the little chipmunk could even detect the aroma of food in the air, it suddenly felt the sky around it darken. An unprecedented sense of danger sent its fur rippling.
And then, before it could fully grasp what was happening, it was crushed by a massive, padded paw and sunk completely into the soft earth.
"Dabai, if you're naughty again, I'll spank you!"
A young boy's voice, childish yet resonant, echoed from the side of the mountain path.
The massive, padded paw belonged to a saber-toothed tiger, over two meters long.
Upon hearing the boy's words, the tiger, named Dabai, raised its massive paw and looked at the squid, completely crushed by its footsteps. Its tiger eyes glared at the approaching boy, then it turned and growled softly, as if to say something.
The young man approached, gently tapped Dabai's head twice, and then, smiling, walked back down the mountain path. Dabai, having been touched on the head by the young man, shook his head contentedly and followed behind him with a domineering stride.
The young man was dressed simply, his shirt and trousers made of rough linen looking as if they had been washed countless times. His belt was simply a bundle of vines, and he wore a pair of bleached animal hide boots.
Despite his simple attire, the young man's face was brimming with youthful vigor and a resolute expression unmatched by his peers.
A large wooden bow was slung across his back, and at his waist hung a quiver and a sharp boning knife. In his right hand, he held three plump rabbits and two pheasants with spotted tails.
The young man, walking home, was Miao Mingqi, the third son of Miao Dazhu, a villager from Yanzhuang.
For Ming Qi, today was a day of bountiful harvest, so he even hummed a song no one else could understand as he walked. His voice was soft, yet rich and clear.
Soon, Yanzhuang came into view. Wisps of smoke could be seen rising from the houses within the village. Villagers were returning home in groups of three or four. After a hard day's work, it would soon be dinnertime.
Just then, a middle-aged man in his forties spotted Ming Qi on the side of the road. He put down his work and said with a smile, "Sanlang, we've got a lot of prey today."
Ming Qi chuckled, a playful expression on his face, and said, "Uncle Zhou Si, I'm lucky today."
With that, he hurried home. Dabai, still following behind him with his domineering stride, paid no mind to the passing villagers.
Watching Ming Qi's retreating figure, Uncle Zhou's eyes were filled with envy. "It would be wonderful if my Xiao Wang could be like San Lang."
Ming Qi's home was just before the village, and he soon arrived at the front door.
It was a simple house, three thatched huts with a small kitchen next door. A fence made of wood, as thick as an arm, surrounded the houses. In the yard, two old hens were trying to find a place to sleep.
At this moment, smoke was rising from the kitchen.
Arriving at the door, Ming Qi didn't rush in immediately. Instead, he looked himself over before calling out, "Mom, Xiao Lan, I'm back."
At the same time, Da Bai, following behind Ming Qi, roared twice in unison, as if to inform Ming Qi's family that he, too, had returned.
As Ming Qi finished speaking, a clear, crisp sound echoed from the yard.
"Brother Mingqi, what did you catch today?"
A crisp childish voice accompanied a little girl running out of the main house. She looked about eight or nine, with large, crystal-like eyes and a round, rosy face. She looked like a plump porcelain doll.
Seeing the little girl emerge, Mingqi chuckled, shook the prey in his hand, and said to the girl, "Xiaolan, tell Brother Dingzi to come to our house tonight for chicken soup!"
"Okay," the little girl agreed readily, and bounded off towards the village.
Entering the yard, Mingqi put down his wooden bow and quiver, then put the rabbit away. He then took the two pheasants to the small river beside the village to wash and skin them.
With these two pheasants, tonight's dinner was sure to be a feast.
Soon, fragrant aromas wafted from Mingqi's kitchen.
The rich, lingering aroma elicited envious glances from many returning villagers, especially Mingqi's father, Miao Dazhu. Confirming the aroma emanated from his own home, he excitedly chatted with the villagers around him.
Although Yanzhuang was a village that practiced both hunting and farming, not every household could afford to enjoy meat soup every other day. Mingqi's family, however, clearly enjoyed a higher standard of living when it came to food.
Of course, this didn't mean the Qi family was wealthy, but rather that Mingqi was a skilled hunter. Although he wasn't yet strong enough to take down large game, he had never returned empty-handed since his first solo hunt, so much so that the villagers overlooked his age, which was less than ten.
Thus, the people of Yanzhuang often said that Miao Dazhu had given birth to a lucky child. Sanlang must have been blessed by the gods.
In the evening, the family gathered around the stone table in the middle of the courtyard, happily feasting on steamed bread and chicken soup. Even for Miao Dazhu, this dinner was considered quite sumptuous.
Seven people were dining around the table: Mingqi's parents, his two older brothers, Miao Sen and Miao Yan, and Xiaolan, a teenager whom Mingqi referred to as Dingzi.
Xiaolan's name was Molan, but she wasn't Mingqi's sister. Mingqi had met her in the mountains a year ago while hunting. Molan was brought there by a severely wounded warrior. Apparently, the warrior knew he wouldn't live long, so he entrusted her to Mingqi, promising someone would come and fetch her, offering him a generous reward. Thus, Molan became a member of Mingqi's family.
The last person was Wang Ding.
Wang Ding was Mingqi's neighbor, and their relationship was their closest. Whenever Mingqi caught a good catch, he would invite Wang Ding over to eat, and Wang Ding never refused. He always brought some steamed bread, sweet potatoes, and other things.
Watching the family enjoying their meal, Ming Qi's eyes occasionally flickered with a smile that was completely unbecoming of his age. Ming Qi spent most of the meal shoveling chunks of meat from the chicken soup into Molan and Wang Ding's bowls, eating very little himself.
After dinner, Ming Qi said goodbye to his parents, saying he was going to see the village chief to learn how to read, and then he left with Dabai.
But he didn't go to the chief. Instead, he lightly jumped onto Dabai's back. The white tiger soared, carrying Ming Qi towards the mountains behind Yanzhuang.
With Dabai as his guide, Ming Qi quickly arrived at a well-hidden cave in the back mountains. The entrance was covered by thick vines, making it impossible to tell from outside that it was a cave entrance. Ming Qi jumped to the ground, gently patted Dabai's head, and then pulled up the thick vine branches to slip into the cave. Dabai squatted at the cave entrance, like a guard, his large tiger eyes gazing majestically in all directions.
The cave wasn't large, but it was winding and deep. Ming Qi took out a tinder to illuminate his path and walked a short distance before reaching the depths. He then fumbled for a dried pine branch, lit it with the tinder, and stuck it into the cave wall. Suddenly, a faint glow filled the cave.
The cave was filled with many items: fine wood for bows and arrows, a large amount of various minerals, and more than a dozen skins from various beasts. And on a large rock in the center of the cave, a half-finished arsenal lay.
Ming Qi first picked it up and examined it carefully for a long time, then reluctantly put it down. He knew that with his current abilities and equipment, it was impossible to make a gun. Many of the steps involved required specialized processing, and these processes were probably only possible for the city's senior craftsmen. As for the crossbow arrows, they had to be custom-made by a blacksmith.
The pine branch burned rapidly, and as it neared extinction, Ming Qi replaced it with another.
He sat cross-legged in front of the stone, then fished out a small piece of paper and a small black wooden stick, similar to a pencil, and began to draw on the paper. As he drew stroke by stroke, it became clear that he was drawing the exact blueprint for the gun, making clear marks next to each section he completed.
In a short while, one part of the gun was complete. He carefully put the paper away, then took out another and continued drawing the rest of the gun.
Two hours passed, and after several pine branches had burned, all five parts of the gun were drawn, each on five different pieces of paper. After reviewing the completed blueprint, Ming Qi smiled and carefully put it away.
Ming Qi was certain that once this weapon was completed, the cunning and valuable silver foxes of the mountains would no longer be able to slip beneath his nose. Hunting a silver fox meant he would have the money to buy whatever he desired.
Time ticked by. After completing the blueprints for the weapon, Ming Qi also drew the tiny crossbow bolts and marked the dimensions. This was to be handed over to the blacksmith, so the details had to be clear and accurate; otherwise, the crossbow bolts would be unusable in the weapon.
When all was completed, Ming Qi arrived at the cave entrance. Seeing Dabai still working diligently, he couldn't help but smile. He patted Dabai's head and sat down next to him on the ground.