Chapter 33: The Wild Boar Must Die (Please Collect and Vote)

【Wish fulfilled: Hunt to your heart’s content—how dare these mere three-nothings act boldly before a Grade Two? (At first, the villagers of Zhangxizhen thought it was just a wild boar, but wild boars never travel alone. They’ve overrun the area.)】

“Are there wild boars in Xiadong too?” An Sheng, sitting atop Laifu, watched Old Chen pondering before bed and couldn’t help but look startled.

Of course, what startled An Sheng wasn’t whether wild boars existed in Xiadong.

Wild boars were common throughout Xiaguo; what truly amazed him was that all the forests of Gaoshan City in Joyue were classified as economic crop zones, with land fully cleared and large-scale irrigation systems built.

These tea mountains weren’t remote wilderness—each peak had tea farmers stationed at the foot to guard them.

Shougoujian—no, Upo Mountain—having wild boar trouble? That truly baffled An Sheng.

What kind of wild boar dares rampage on land tea farmers depend on for survival?

Don’t you fear the tea farmers, enraged, pulling out a few homemade cannons and blasting your mother to smithereens?

Tea trees!

They’re perennial plants requiring years of meticulous care—if the mother tree wins a major prize in a tea competition,

the cuttings and air-layered branches used for propagation aren’t worth a few hundred yuan.

They’re worth hundreds, even thousands, per branch.

If wild boars truly killed those tea trees, the tea farmers who leased Shougoujian would fly into a bloodthirsty rage.

No wonder Old Chen was still thinking about the Shougoujian tea fields even as he slept.

Of course, there are many ways to deal with wild boars—for example, the hunter squad specially approved by the Anquan Bureau, who handle exactly these kinds of threats; they clear out any dangerous beasts.

But the hunter squad isn’t a formal organization—they’re made up of skilled local hunters and retired locals, essentially part-timers.

Usually, when a dangerous beast is spotted, locals report it to the Anquan Bureau and Forestry Bureau; after determining whether it’s a protected species, they decide whether to set traps or directly seal the mountain and use firearms to kill it.

Only after these steps are completed do they summon experienced local outlaws, dress them in official hunter gear, and send them in teams into the mountains to hunt.

Yes, An Sheng preferred to call them “hunters.”

In his past life, when he’d gone mountain trekking, he’d seen locals kill a black bear with a single arrow—piercing straight through the heart.

Though compound bows have replaced air guns, these local hunters are now far more formidable than before.

But Old Chen was village chief of Zhangxizhen—he had far more to consider, and under non-essential circumstances, he’d never summon these local hunters.

First, it’s non-compliant.

Second, it’s fucking illegal!

Those high-poundage compound bows and arrows capable of piercing wild boars? All illegally modified.

And going through official channels, even to gather these part-timers, would take at least a week.

“If it were some other dangerous beast, I might think twice.”

“But wild boars? They’re trash! I’m telling you!”

“Old Chen, how can you sleep? The wild boars are still rampaging up the mountain—get up and lead me there, damn it!”

An Sheng ordered Laifu to run to Old Chen’s iron gate and unleash the water retriever’s iron tail.

“Clang—clang—clang—”

Laifu’s iron tail slammed against the gate, jolting Chen Fengshui awake—but he wasn’t overly startled, only grumbling, “Who is it?!”

As the respected village chief, Old Chen occasionally had to mediate domestic fights—sometimes whole families brawling—and he’d step out to calm things down.

So he remained calm, even with a hint of weary resignation.

His wife also emerged from another room, joining him at the door.

Both were elderly; their sleep quality had long since deteriorated—they woke easily from even a spouse’s shift or snore.

For older people, separate bedrooms were sometimes the better choice.

“Who is it?!”

Old Chen stepped out, but saw no angry crowd outside the gate. He frowned, walking to the front door and peering through the fence.

“.Fuli Lao Ye, what are you doing here?”

Old Chen stepped forward and saw a small fox riding a white Labrador, and he stared blankly before opening the gate to let the Labrador and the black-and-white shepherd dog inside.

“Ying ying ying—”

An Sheng slid off the dog, pointed at the two dogs, then at Old Chen’s wife, then at himself, then pointed upward toward Upo Mountain.

Old Chen looked at Fuli Lao Ye, paused, then pulled out his phone from his pocket:

“Fuli Lao Ye, I’m just a mortal—please use your divine hand to make me rich!”

Old Chen could tell An Sheng had left the two dogs at home and wanted him to accompany the fox up the mountain for some unknown purpose.

Having experienced the fox’s home-destroying antics before, he feared Fuli Lao Ye might be planning another illegal act.

【I just heard the village dogs say there are wild boars rampaging up the mountain? I’m worried about Qing’s tea fields.】

【The world is broken and crumbling, but only this little fox is trying to mend it—without me, Zhangxizhen would fall apart.】

【Give me my two top generals, serve wine and food, Old Chen—come with me to the mountain and kill those wild boars!】

An Sheng took the phone and slowly typed a few lines using the fox’s one-character mantra, then handed it back to Old Chen.

Old Chen took the phone, read every word, then sucked in a sharp breath and looked at Fuli Lao Ye with hesitation:

“Lao Ye, I don’t mean to question you, but there’s a huge weight difference between you and the wild boar—it’s probably two hundred jin. Maybe—”

From villagers’ estimates, the wild boar in Shougoujian weighed around two hundred jin—not a small one.

A two-hundred-jin wild boar? Even eight or seven adult men without firearms would struggle.

Facing Old Chen’s doubt,

An Sheng stood upright and kicked Old Chen squarely in the knee.

“Ssshh—” Old Chen leapt up, clutching his sore foot and gasping.

Whether Fuli Lao Ye could handle the mountain’s rogue boar was one question.

But single-handedly thrashing him? That was effortless. Old Chen groaned, “Fuli Lao Ye, stop your magic!”

“Fine, I’ll go with you, old man that I am!”

“Ying ying ying—”

An Sheng gave him a look of approval, nodded, and signaled for Old Chen to lead the way up the mountain.

“Hmph hmph hmph—”

An Sheng gazed toward Upo Mountain, a cold smirk forming, his inner satisfaction already bubbling.

If

some other dangerous beast were rampaging, An Sheng might not bother trekking up and down the mountain for just one wish point.

But wild boars were different!

An Sheng hated them!

Back when he worked in sales, his resentment outweighed that of a dead ghost for years—he’d been on a business trip to Jinling, and on the bus, a little wild boar had frantically shoved its snout into his ass.

At a trade show in the harbor area, An Sheng nearly got launched into the air by a charging wild boar on the subway.

Even now, he couldn’t understand why wild boars existed in such a modern city.

Did locals actually like them?

Otherwise, why teach them to ride buses or tap their Bada Tong cards?

(End of Chapter)