Chapter 53: The Russian Spy

It seemed to spark a thought in my mind, and I quickly asked, "Right, Old Chen, you still haven't told me how you managed to catch this elk! When you caught it, was it dead or alive?"

Old Chen paused to think for a moment, then answered softly, "This elk was caught in a snare. When I got there, its body was still warm, so it must have been alive!"

Hearing him say this left me even more perplexed.

According to Old Chen's account, I could only deduce that... inside a living elk, there had somehow been... a handgun.

Seeing that I remained silent, Old Chen squatted down, picked up the pistol from amidst the clots of blood, and tore away the oiled paper wrapped around it.

After examining the pistol from left to right, he directly ejected the magazine.

To our astonishment, the magazine was crammed completely full of rounds...

Without a word, Old Chen squatted down and carefully inspected the elk's belly.

Then, he went back into the cabin to thoroughly examine the hide, and finally, a cold smile crept across his face. "I've figured out what's going on here!"

I was startled, and quickly asked, "Old Chen, you know?"

"Yes!"

At that moment, Old Chen pointed to a finger-length mark on the elk's belly and said to me, "Sanqi, look here. What is this?"

I squinted at it, then reached out to touch it, feeling that the mark looked somewhat like a knife scar.

Right then, Old Chen continued, "Sanqi, I just checked, and there are similar stitched marks on this hide as well. So, I reckon someone captured this elk alive, drugged it with some method to render it unconscious, sliced open its belly with a knife, stuffed this handgun inside, and then sewed it back up with needle and thread..."

Hearing this made me bare my teeth in a grimace, thinking that whoever did this was truly a beast!

Overwhelmed by a mix of urgency and anger, I cursed, "Damn it! Old Chen, who on earth would do something like this?"

Unflustered, Old Chen raised the handgun in his hand and said softly to me, "As for who did it! You can actually tell from this pistol!"

I was taken aback, and looked closely at the weapon. At a glance, it was clearly a military handgun; a civilian firearm could never be so exquisitely crafted.

Nor could it be something hunters commonly used. From what I knew, the guns hunters used were mostly long-barreled pieces, scatterguns, and foreign-made shotguns, which meant hunting shotguns, short fowling pieces, and homemade muzzleloaders.

I suppose someone might ask at this point why hunting cannot be done with submachine guns or assault rifles, but that simply shows a lack of understanding.

Before our country imposed strict gun control, the firearms scattered among the populace were utterly chaotic—homemade guns, air rifles for hunting birds, and so forth... Most of the military firearms were left over from the war years.

However, beginning in the early 1980s, these military weapons essentially vanished from civilian hands. Until the state promulgated the Firearms Control Law in 1996, hunters mostly relied on hunting rifles and homemade guns during that gap.

On the one hand, submachine guns were far too conspicuous; on the other hand, to be honest, they simply weren't as comfortable to use as a hunting rifle deep in the old forests.

...

At that moment, Old Chen told me, "Sanqi! Let me tell you, this pistol is called a Stechkin automatic pistol, and it began equipping the Soviet military in 1953!"

随后, he popped open the magazine and continued, "The magazine capacity is 20 rounds, but because this gun has a heavy recoil, it was originally issued mainly to Soviet special forces."

Hearing Old Chen's deep knowledge, I asked in astonishment, "Old Chen, how do you know so much about those Russians across the border?"

Old Chen's expression grew distant. He bit down on his cigarette and sighed, "We'll talk about these things another time! They're all just ancient history."

"Alright!"

Seeing that Old Chen was unwilling to elaborate, I knew better than to press him, and my gaze returned to the automatic pistol once more!

Once I learned the handgun came from the Russians, the situation became fairly clear.

Barring any unforeseen circumstances, this whole stunt had undoubtedly been pulled by Russian spies.

When you really think about it, it made perfect sense.

Whenever these spies crossed the border, carrying firearms was unsafe no matter where they hid them. But slipping them inside the belly of an animal? That was foolproof!

I remarked with a sigh, "Those Russians are truly clever! To even think of a method like this!"

"Clever?" Old Chen sneered coldly, cursing, "Clever my foot! They're nothing more than rats scurrying across the street! Sanqi, let me tell you, whenever you encounter spies in this forest, don't hesitate—just put a bullet through them! Remember our identity! First and foremost, we are Chinese, and only... secondly are we hunters!"

I nodded heavily. "Rest assured, Old Chen! I understand."

Afterward, Old Chen handed the pistol to me and began skinning the elk himself. Before long, he pulled two boxes of ammunition, tightly wrapped in oiled paper, out of the elk's belly...

And after that, there was nothing else. Upon counting, I found there were sixty rounds in one box, making a total of one hundred and twenty rounds across both boxes.

I thought to myself that these spies were truly formidable bastards to have smuggled in so much ammunition.

Twenty minutes later, Old Chen hacked the elk into numerous chunks and carried them directly into the cabin.

The girl, Qilin, was still fast asleep, which was normal given her excessive blood loss.

Old Chen and I set up the pot, tossed in a large section of elk ribs to boil, and roasted an elk leg over the fire on the side...

As I rummaged through the supplies in the cabin, I found some mushrooms. Some had been gathered by the previous, now-deceased hunters and brought back in our backpacks; others I had foraged myself. Ingredients like these required no extra seasoning—what they offered was pure freshness.

The venison rib soup before us needed no other condiments; just a few pinches of salt and some mushrooms gave it an incomparably fragrant taste...

As the saying went in recent years, high-end ingredients often required only the simplest methods of cooking.

Among the spoils we had taken from those hunters were also a few roots of ginseng and a pack of wild wolfberries. Considering Qilin's heavy blood loss, I grabbed a handful of wolfberries and tossed them into the pot.

Once everything was settled, Old Chen and I sat on the bed, smoking and drinking together, watching the weather outside gradually turn gloomy...

I thought for a moment and was just about to tell Old Chen that I couldn't make head or tail of the writing on the sheepskin scroll, wondering if he could take a look at it...

Yet at that exact moment, Old Chen looked over at Qilin on the opposite bed and said flatly, "Awake? Your food will be ready in a moment! But before that, I have a few questions for you!"

Startled, I turned my head and saw that Qilin had already opened her eyes, staring straight at Old Chen and me.

"Go... ahead," she nodded faintly.

Word by word, with the tone of an interrogator questioning a prisoner, Old Chen spoke: "I have never seen the kind of leeches you and your companions were infested with anywhere near our territory! So can you tell me... which river did you all fall into to attract so many leeches?"