Song Tan’s Chronicle - Chapter 145.2

King had somehow crept over to Song Tan and quietly lay down beside her.

His large body, with lines as sleek as a tiger’s, had yellow fur that trembled slightly, as if a gentle light flowed over his coat.

In the darkness, he appeared even more majestic.

Big White, sensing something, suddenly pulled its neck out from under its wing with a “ga” and, still somewhat confused, began waddling towards the back mountain.

In the pigsty, the wild boars let out deep grunts in their sleep, subconsciously shifting closer toward the direction of the peach grove.

From the direction of the chestnut grove, the three German Shepherds and four Mastiffs let out long howls, like wolves.

They stared intently at the distant, mist-covered mountains, their paws twitching in longing. But in the end, they whimpered and lay back down, staying dutifully in the woods.

The next morning, just after dawn.

Song Sancheng had just gotten up and stepped into the courtyard, only to see a row of scruffy, gray-haired local squirrels standing on the courtyard wall, jumping around and staring at him.

Whoa!

He jumped, startled. Were there really this many squirrels on the mountain this year? Every morning, a whole group of them, gathering like a meeting of mice.

“Wu Lan!” he called out in a louder voice. “Have you hidden our stuff properly? Don’t let the squirrels ruin it.”

Squirrels were troublemakers; they would eat and steal anything, even digging up freshly sown seeds like magpies.

Song Sancheng was puzzled. He had seen squirrels before, but they were rare, and only the bold ones would hop on the wall now and then.

What was going on this year?

There seemed to be a long line at his front door every day.

But if there were so many, why hadn’t he noticed them in the back mountain before?

He was deeply confused.

Wu Lan had just come out of the house. Hearing him, she glanced up absentmindedly. “What could they be after? A few old, dried corn cobs? Let them steal them if they want.”

Were they so poor they would miss a few cobs?

But she, too, was puzzled. She glanced at the old corn cobs hanging on the beams under the shed—dry and shriveled, and untouched by the squirrels.

Could they be too old to be appetizing?

Just as she spoke, Seventh Granduncle emerged from the side room, smiling sheepishly.

“Got up late, got up late…” he said with an embarrassed smile.

He was puzzled, too. At his age, sleep rarely came easily.

In the city, he considered himself lucky to get four hours of sleep a night, often waking up by three or four in the morning.

But now, checking his watch, it was already past five-thirty, nearly six!

He’d gone to bed at nine the night before and hadn’t woken up once!

And looking over at his wife, her face was rosy, and she seemed full of energy…

Well!

The old couple understood—they must have benefited from the fresh country air. This time, they had really made the right decision by coming back.

Wu Lan, who had lived more than half her life, was feeling a bit awkward, having hired a chef for the first time.

“Not late at all,” she replied quickly. “We usually only start getting ready around this time.”

Seventh Granduncle could see her discomfort and quickly headed for the kitchen. “How many people are eating breakfast today? I’ll start preparing right now.”

He laughed as he continued, “I’ve hosted banquets for so many years, and I’m usually good at estimating the amount needed. But I’ve never seen a situation like yesterday, where every plate and bowl was emptied clean!”

According to the rural custom of hosting guests, it’s better to have leftovers than empty plates.

Had everyone not left with their bellies bulging, he would have felt ashamed—after all, not feeding guests well is a big offense!