Chapter 32: What, are you still unconvinced?

"Do you want me to spare you? That's not impossible. Give me fifty pounds of rice as compensation for stealing my belongings!"

Lin Yang spoke coldly, his tone like a winter gale, leaving no room for negotiation.

"How much?!" Old Man Zhang’s eyes widened, nearly popping out of their sockets.

Lin Yang sneered, ignoring the man's shock. He steadily slung his Mosin-Nagant rifle over his shoulder with practiced ease. Then, he drew a gleaming hunting knife and held it gently against Old Man Zhang’s throat.

With the slightest pressure, the blade easily sliced through the skin of the old man's neck. A trickle of blood slowly seeped out, winding down his pale throat like a sinister red thread.

The sharp, icy sting hit him like a lightning bolt, and Old Man Zhang’s heart leaped into his throat. His instinctual retort transformed instantly into a plea. With a trembling, tearful voice, he cried out, "I'll give it to you! I'll give it, won't I? Please, just don't kill me!"

Even now, Old Man Zhang was busy with his own clever little schemes. He thought that once he returned to the village, Lin Yang wouldn't dare to be so brazen as to point a gun at him in front of all the elders and neighbors. As long as he stubbornly refused to admit he had stolen the baskets, there would be nothing Lin Yang could do. After all, besides Lin Yang, no one else was there; no one could testify for him.

Unfortunately for him, Lin Yang knew his character all too well and had already anticipated this. With a half-smile, Lin Yang said, "I don't have the time to waste on you here. You stole my baskets, and because of that, I caught nothing. I had no choice but to head into the mountains to hunt."

"Since you like the baskets my father wove so much, I'll sell them to you. Six baskets, plus several dozen pounds of fish—charging you fifty pounds of rice isn't too much, is it?"

Upon hearing this, Old Man Zhang blurted out instinctively, "Where were there 'several dozen pounds' of fish? The largest fish was barely over two pounds, and the rest were pathetic little fish and shrimp. I didn't even see a turtle's hair!"

Lin Yang knew this must be the truth slipping out. He scoffed, his sneer deepening. "If I say there were, then there were! What, you disagree?"

As he spoke, he pressed the knife closer to the old man's neck, the cold blade nearly biting into his flesh. Sensing the lethal chill, Old Man Zhang felt as if his throat were about to be slit at any moment. Pale as a sheet with terror, he hurriedly shouted, "I agree! I'll go back to my house right now and get the fifty pounds of rice. Please, show mercy and let me go!"

Lin Yang pulled out a pen and paper and slammed them onto the ground in front of Old Man Zhang with a sharp *thwack*.

"I don't trust your word. Write down everything you just promised. You wasted a sheet of my paper, so you'll have to compensate me with an old hen as well."

"Your family's old hen is so fat it drips oil—it'll make a delicious soup!"

Old Man Zhang was full of resentment, but he was terrified that Lin Yang might do something horrific in a fit of impulse. He had no choice but to pick up the pen, his hand trembling like a sieve, and struggle to write the IOU.

"Put your thumbprint on it!" Lin Yang ordered, brooking no argument.

"I don't have an inkpad, how am I supposed to press it?" Old Man Zhang said, though in his heart he had no intention of honoring the agreement and was frantically searching for a way to escape.

Without a word, Lin Yang took the hunting knife, pressed it against the man's hand, and gave a slight push. The blade was razor-sharp and instantly sliced a deep gash into the back of Old Man Zhang’s hand. Blood welled up like a spring, soaking the mud in a vibrant red.

"There, now you have one," Lin Yang said coldly, his eyes devoid of pity.

Old Man Zhang was thoroughly terrified. He never imagined Lin Yang would be so decisive and ruthless, drawing his own blood just to get a thumbprint. He was beyond tears, yet he dared not utter a single word of protest. With a trembling hand, he dipped his fingers into the blood and pressed them onto the document, the crimson mark serving as a sign of his humiliation.

Lin Yang took the document and scrutinized it. His brows furrowed, and a flicker of anger flashed in his eyes. "Do you think I'm a fool? I say it, you write it!"

"You voluntarily bought our six baskets, gained a method from me to earn money, and learned how to set traps to catch fish and shrimp. For this, you are willing to give fifty pounds of rice and two old hens!"

"Why did it become two?" Old Man Zhang instinctively shouted, his voice filled with grievance and indignation.

Lin Yang said nothing, simply resting his knife on the man's hand again. His gaze was as cold as a frozen pool, staring straight at him as if warning him not to make any rash moves.

Old Man Zhang was truly broken by fear this time. He knew for certain that Lin Yang would not hesitate to carve more gashes into his hand. Terrified, he yelled, "I'll write it! I'll write it, okay?"

After finally finishing the document and pressing his thumbprint again, Lin Yang showed a satisfied smile. "Get the rice and the hens ready. I'll come see you tonight!"

With that, he sheathed his knife, turned around, and walked along the upstream path toward the mountains.

Watching Lin Yang’s receding figure, Old Man Zhang let out a long sigh of relief. For those few minutes, he felt as if he had walked through the gates of hell, every second filled with terror and despair. But soon, his expression twisted with rage and resentment, his eyes burning like two flickers of fire.

"Lin Yang, you won't die well! Just you wait. I won't give you a single grain of rice! We'll see!"

Clutching his bleeding hand, he limped hastily toward the village, wincing in pain with every step. He had already made up his mind: he would welch on the deal no matter what. He didn't believe that Lin Yang would dare do anything to him in front of the villagers.

With his rifle in hand, Lin Yang felt completely at ease. He returned to the spot where he had set his traps yesterday and knelt to carefully observe the surroundings.

Soon, he found some snow hare fur in the grass. Based on his extensive experience, he judged that the fur had been left at least two days ago. It seemed this lynx was active in this area. He also examined the ground and found some scat, which, judging by its state, had been left yesterday. There were also plum-blossom-shaped paw prints, clear and fresh, as if they had just been pressed into the earth.

Lin Yang activated his tracking skill to search the area, but after a long while, he found no sign of the target, only traces of ordinary small animals.

After roaming for over two hours, Lin Yang was certain that the lynx had claimed this area as its territory. Moreover, aside from the snow hare it had snatched from him, the lynx likely hadn't eaten for two days.

"Looks like it hasn't been hungry enough yet!"

A confident smile tugged at the corner of Lin Yang’s mouth. He chose not to venture deeper because he had already locked onto this lynx as his sole target. He planned to wait for the perfect moment to strike and catch it off guard.

Without realizing it, noon approached, and Lin Yang turned to head back to the village. As he reached the village entrance, the gazes of several middle-aged women fell upon him, their eyes filled with a strange look, as if they were staring at a monster. Lin Yang initially intended to ignore them and walk straight ahead, but Auntie Wang hurried over and blocked his path.