Chapter Forty-Three: The Gift of a Chicken

I turned my head in pain, only to see, not far away in the woods, Wang Bing, his face bruised and swollen, clutching a stone in his hand. He glared at me with fury, then hurled the stone at me again!

Wang Erjun pulled me aside to dodge. After cursing a few times, he wanted to chase after Wang Bing.

But Wang Bing darted into the woods and vanished after a few quick steps.

I grabbed Wang Erjun, suppressing the pain at the back of my neck, and said, "Forget him for now. Let's get the rooster from Wang Deshui and go back to your house to tend to my wound."

Wang Erjun looked at me worriedly. "You’re bleeding a lot—are you sure you’re okay?"

"It’s just a scratch, nothing serious," I replied, exhaling and wiping the blood from my hand onto a nearby tree trunk.

Dragging the butcher’s knife, I urged Wang Erjun to hurry. We shouldn’t linger in case the butcher woke and came looking for his knife.

Without further words, Wang Erjun led the way.

Six or seven minutes later, we arrived at a flat area not far from his home. There stood a two-story house, modern and stylish, with a brick-wall yard clad in ceramic tiles.

Black iron railings were set into the brick. In the whole Wang family settlement, it was likely among the finest homes.

"Wang Deshui is a bricklayer. He used to work in the city with my father—my dad did carpentry, he did masonry. My father often helped him, yet he still dared covet my mother," Wang Erjun cursed bitterly.

As he spoke, I caught sight of our target.

In a corner of the yard was a small shed, and inside, a rooster with a blackish-red comb and glossy feathers rested with its eyes closed.

I felt a bit uneasy. After all, it was just livestock, but I instinctively described it as "resting with its eyes closed."

Its clean feathers, a deep yellow on the chest and nearly black-red at the tail, set it apart from ordinary roosters.

"Wang Deshui isn’t home. Wait here while I sneak in and grab the rooster."

My heart froze as Wang Erjun began climbing the wall.

I hesitated, about to call out, but it was too late.

The yard wall was over a meter high, the iron railings above another meter and a half. After climbing up, Wang Erjun, too heavy to jump straight down, found no foothold inside.

He ended up dropping heavily into the yard with a cry of pain.

At once, the rooster opened its eyes!

Beneath its yellow lids, its small red eyes were sharp and piercing. It charged at Wang Erjun without a sound, wings flaring.

Wang Erjun’s face went pale. "Xie Yuan! Come in and help! This rooster pecks!"

He scrambled up, clutching his backside, and ran in the opposite direction.

The rooster, missing its first attack, spun around to pursue him again.

The theft had failed, and now Wang Erjun was being chased by a rooster. Limping from his fall, he looked utterly ridiculous.

I dared not hesitate, quickly scrambling over the wall.

Free-range roosters in the countryside are notoriously fierce—pecking people is nothing unusual. When I was a child, I’d been pecked myself and was afraid of roosters for a long time.

A peck from that beak could leave a bloody hole, or worse, tear off a piece of flesh.

Just as I climbed over the railing, an angry voice shouted, "What do you think you’re doing!"

My heart skipped a beat—a window in the two-story house flew open, and an enraged face appeared. Who else could it be but Wang Deshui?

"I told you not to come to our village! Now you’ve come to my house to steal!"

He recognized me instantly.

Seeing Wang Erjun about to be caught, I had no time to worry and leapt down into the yard. With Erjun ahead and me behind, we had the rooster boxed in.

Just then, it let out a whimper, its legs buckled, and it collapsed, sheer terror in its red eyes.

My expression changed, but Wang Erjun suddenly shouted, "Xie Yuan, it’s afraid of your butcher’s knife!"

With that, he strode forward, reaching for the rooster’s wings.

The rooster shrieked and, all at once, flew up onto the house roof, its terror undiminished.

Wang Erjun cursed.

I wasn’t pleased either, especially as the ground-floor door flew open.

"I’ll kill you two chicken thieves!" Wang Deshui stormed out, brandishing a thick bamboo pole.

I watched him warily, about to explain.

But his expression shifted from fury to confusion. "Erjun? What are you doing here?"

Wang Erjun said nothing. After staring at Wang Deshui for a moment, he turned to me. "Let’s go, Xie Yuan."

I frowned, wanting to speak about buying the rooster, but seeing Erjun’s mood, I sighed and headed outside.

"Erjun, wait, don’t go. I have something to discuss," Wang Deshui called, reaching for him.

Wang Erjun glared. "Who are you calling uncle? Don’t assume relations that don’t exist."

We quickly left the yard.

Wang Deshui stood at the gate, stamping his foot, words unsaid, but didn’t pursue us.

On the way back to Wang Erjun’s house, I was silent for a long while before saying, "Maybe we can ask around in other homes. Someone must have an old rooster."

He nodded. "You rest at my place, I’ll go out and look."

Soon after, we arrived at his house.

It was late afternoon. His grandparents were sitting in the yard weaving straw sandals, while Aunt Wang worked nearby.

"Mom, get some medicine for Xie Yuan. He’s hurt his neck," Wang Erjun called.

Aunt Wang looked up in alarm, covering her mouth. "What happened? There’s so much blood!"

She hurried inside and soon returned with a small medical kit.

Only then did I really feel the pain in my neck. I crouched as Aunt Wang washed the wound, applied medicine, and bandaged it. After a while, she sighed in relief. "Xie Yuan, how did you get hurt? Weren’t you at Grandma Li’s house?"

"That madman Wang Bing did it," Wang Erjun replied irritably.

"Don’t ask too much, Mom. Xie Yuan, sit and rest. I need to go out and get a chicken."

With that, Wang Erjun stood to leave.

Aunt Wang wondered, "Why bother? We have chickens behind the house. Just kill one when you’re ready to eat."

He was about to explain when, from the bamboo grove, came the flapping sound of wings.

I turned and saw Wang Deshui approaching, carrying his prized rooster.

Aunt Wang’s expression clearly grew uneasy.

Wang Deshui forced a smile. "Erjun, you left so quickly—and this beast was hard to catch—so I brought it to you."

He set the rooster before Wang Erjun.

Aunt Wang quickly pulled Erjun aside. "That won’t do. You’ve raised this rooster for years. We have chickens too—take yours back."

Wang Deshui laughed awkwardly and scratched his head. "But Erjun needs this one. There’s none older in the village."

I sighed inwardly.

It was obvious Wang Deshui was truly fond of Aunt Wang.

Her face and eyes betrayed her unease.

At that moment, Wang Erjun’s grandparents drew Wang Deshui aside for a chat.

Erjun made as if to send him away, but I shook my head, pulled him aside, and quietly advised, "Nothing’s happened yet between Aunt Wang and him. She’s been alone these two years and hasn’t accepted him. Your grandparents like him, and he treats you well—otherwise, would he give away a rooster he’s raised for ten years just like that?"

"Don’t be so quick to chase him off. Think about what your father said. You can’t expect your mother to be alone forever."

Wang Erjun fell silent. At length, he muttered, "I’ll go rest in my room. You should rest, too," and went inside.

Aunt Wang smiled at me apologetically, then got a stool for Wang Deshui.

Wang Deshui looked awkward and scratched his head, saying to me, "Little brother, it was all a misunderstanding before. If you need the rooster, keep it—I’ve raised it for ten years. You won’t find a better one."

I smiled. "Thank you."

I didn’t mention our earlier encounter.

Wang Deshui visibly relaxed.

Then Aunt Wang asked why I was carrying such a large butcher’s knife—it looked almost like the one the village butcher used.

I avoided specifics, saying only that Grandma Li had asked me to bring it for a purpose.

Aunt Wang didn’t press further, returning to her chores while Wang Deshui chatted with the elders.

It was still only mid-afternoon—there were hours yet before nightfall.

I prepared to rest for a while.

Involuntarily, I glanced towards the old woman’s house on the bamboo grove’s side.

My heart skipped a beat—for in my eyes, the house now appeared built of blue bricks and tiles.

A furtive figure slipped through the yard gate and disappeared inside.