Shen Xingshen tumbles as he runs.
The three little dumplings half led and half dragged him along, struggling to escape with this grown-up whose only good thing going for him was having long legs.
He could hardly stay upright walking on a mountain trail, much less running!
Just then, a slender but firm hand gripped Shen Xingshen's waist and hoisted him up. He yelped as Shen Miaomiao slung him over her shoulder and ran ahead without pause.
Freed from the constraint of an adult who has no control over his limbs, the little dumplings shot forward, outpacing the two. They jump, bounce, and leap over the uneven terrain, gaining momentum and speeding up, and utilizing the environment to launch themselves farther.
Soon, they reached a broader trail, where a crude fence made of crisscrossed straw rope blocked the way. Various cans and odd trinkets dangled from it, and as the children tugged and slipped through, the rope fence erupted in a clattering chorus.
. . . . .
A few slow villagers just completed their task before the sun set on the horizon and are returning their farm tools.
An elderly woman with six small grandchildren trailing behind her heels cornered the scorer and argued.
"I told you, how many times should I tell you, you recorded my little darlings' work points wrong! Can't you see? There are six of them."
Her little darlings were so filial. So young, yet already helping in the fields. Look at how blessed she is! As their grandma, she had to ensure that their hard work did not go unnoticed.
With her hands on her hips, she spoke louder. "You are so young, but you're deaf and blind. Your head is also slow, and you can't understand an old lady like me. That's not good. Eat more soybeans. I'll let your mother know."
The scorer's face darkened. Why didn't he just go home after work?
"--Clung."
He paused at the noise.
"Clung. Clung."
He heard it again.
"Grandma Hong, did you hear that?" He asked the old lady.
"I heard you. I heard you. But boy, did you hear me—"
"Arf! Arf! Arf!"
The barking of the dogs alerted the villagers, and a youngster climbed up to the roof of the warehouse. From there, he spotted children fleeing from the foot of the mountain, trailed by their village's notorious bandit king. When he noticed her carrying a person like a sack of potatoes, his face went pale, thinking of possible bloody scenarios while greeting the soul of the poor victim.
"What? Are the kids entering the deep mountain?" An uncle craned his neck and asked, which resulted in an elbow from his brother.
"Can the warning fence be seen from here? Don't ask stupid questions."
"You're stupid! If he can't see, someone's naughty kid is entering the deep mountains. If he sees someone, they're getting out."
The brother remained unconvinced. Surely, there were more outcomes than just those two.
"Uhhh…" The teenager tried to interject, but the two were intent on arguing with each other. Suddenly, his pupil shrank, and he shouted, "Wild boars! Wild boars are coming down the mountains!"
This shout summoned nearly every villager in the vicinity.
"Wild boars?!"
"Pigs?! Pork! It's pork!"
"It's meat! There's meat!"
"Call the butcher! Where's the butcher????! Go and grab him!"
"It's the hunter first! The boar is still alive!"
Chaos erupted across the threshing field.
The quickest to react snatched the farm tools from their neighbors' hands and rushed towards the skirts of the mountain.
Grandma Hong, whose sickle was snatched, pointed. "You saw him! He took it! Remember his face! Don't make a mistake and look for me!"
She did not have it!
A young, delicate girl in a dress managed the tools, but despite her looks, she was experienced in her movements. Without someone cueing her, she handed out what hadn't entered the warehouse and marked a new page in her notebook.
One by one, every able-bodied villager armed themselves and formed a hunting party—no, a rescue squad. Some daring little rascals had lured wild boars into the fields!
They came to protect the crops, not chase meat. Absolutely not for the meat!
.... OH! Also, the kids... Don't forget the kids…
"What are you all doing! Get a hold of your little brats!"
The Captain came charging with the Secretary and immediately scolded the excited crowd.
Some mothers were fine, but the careless ones and those with rowdy kids whom they were unable to control, reacted a beat slower.
Just a moment of inattention was enough for the wild children to disappear.
Grandma Hong, realising her grandchildren had joined in the fun and left her, an old lady alone, shouted a resounding 'little bastards'.
Tonight, the children may or may not have meat for dinner, but first, they will be served a generous helping of stir-fried bamboo sticks.