If its said that Yuan Xiaobai had only recovered physically before, now she was full of energy and vitality. When the door opened, she was already in the courtyard helping Miao Dage push the stone mill.

  Yuan Xiaobai, with a beaming smile, wiped the big sweat on his forehead and shouted at me: "Hey, Xiao Yi is early!"

  "Whats this..."

  She chuckled and said: "Its been a long time since Ive exercised, the mountain air is good, it feels so comfortable!"

  I muttered: "Alright, its finally over."

  As they chatted, someone knocked on the door. A man wearing a single-breasted gray suit and gold-rimmed glasses peeked in from outside, accompanied by several unfamiliar faces.

  "Is this the village chiefs home?" The man in the suit asked with a big smile on his face, holding two red plastic bags that looked like gifts.

  "I am the village head." Old Miao looked up and down at the visitor, asking cautiously: "Who are you? What brings you here?"

  "Hello! Hello!" The visitor immediately came up and shook hands with Miao Dàyé, saying very politely: "Weve come especially to visit you from Beijing."

  Old Miao hastily ushered him in, saying: "Beijing? Ah, thats the capitals leader! Please come in, please come in."

  The man in the suit held onto Old Man Miaos hand and walked inside, nodding at us strangers one by one. Seven more people followed behind him, five men and two women, all dressed fashionably in athletic wear that was rarely seen on the streets at that time, with bulging backpacks on their backs.

  I asked Pangzi in a low voice: "Pangzi, dont you think this group of Beijing people is authentic?"

  Fatso stroked his chin and said: "Not bad, cant hear the flavor of Beijing dialect coming, but feels a familiar Sichuan pepper flavor."

  I nodded in agreement, saying: "I think so too. In the past two years, Ive been traveling all over the place, and my accent has changed a lot. People from the south and north are different, and those from southwest and northeast are also distinct. No matter how hard you try to learn, its hard to change your native accent."

  Fatty chuckled and said in Sichuan dialect: "This kid is even more arrogant than a bunch of melons, pretending to be a Beijinger. Ill have to tease him a bit, then hell know!"

  Shi Gandang is a Sichuan native, grew up in Sichuan since childhood, even if he left Sichuan his roots are still there. This group of peoples accent is mixed with obvious Sichuan dialect tone, he can deceive Miao Danye but cannot deceive Baozi and me.

  Except for the one who followed Miao Dajie into the house, the other seven people stood in the yard, divided into two groups, seemingly looking around but feeling like they were surveying the terrain. I invited Xiao Bai and Cha Wenbin into the house, closed the door, and told them about what I had discovered. A single sentence from Yuan Xiaobai made us feel that things had fallen into an even more precarious situation.

  "They had a guy, when the man just turned around, I saw that his back waist clothes didnt pull down, exposing a gun. The person next to him seemed to find out that I saw it, pulled down the mans clothes and stared at me all the time, fortunately you guys called me in, being stared at makes me feel hairy."

  Fatso asked: "What gun did you see clearly?"

  "Didnt see clearly, black in color, should be a handgun."

  Fatso heard that there were guns and felt something was off: "This doesnt look good, this place is poor as dirt and yet a group of people like you show up. I saw them earlier too, the ones standing outside are all skilled fighters."

  Cha Wenbin said: "First, lets see what they want to do. We shouldnt act rashly either. They have more people, and if we fight, well definitely be at a disadvantage. Lets go and investigate first."

  For them, we are the host and they are the guest, so we walked into the living room with ease. As Lao San said, there is no need to sneak around and eavesdrop, its them who should be guilty.

  Old Miao stood up and said to the man in the suit, "Oh, Mr. Qian, let me introduce you to these people. They are a group of educated youth from our village who were originally from the city. I regard them as my own nephews."

  That man stood up and smiled at us: "Young people are promising, youth is good."

  "A fart face, looks like a hammer and has a thick accent" This guy is already speaking in Sichuan dialect, his tone is so funny: "You say I, Zhang Dechou, not only am I from a rural household registration, but also an urgent person. Rural household registration, I dont even mention its not good, my mouth is stinky, as soon as I open it, I offend people. In this society nowadays, how can someone like me be considered capable? Youre just talking nonsense."

  I looked at the suit-clad man, known as Mr. Qian, whose face turned pale and then red again, but he didnt dare to make a scene. The fat guy still pretended to be innocent and said to Old Miao: "Oh dear, I forgot that this leader from Beijing doesnt understand our Sichuan dialect, sorry about that."

  Lao Lao laughed loudly and said, "Dont mention him, I couldnt understand either. When I was a soldier before, the squad leader was from Sichuan, he gave us orders and I always misheard them, had to ask my comrades to translate."

  Seeing that there were steps below, the person hastily echoed: "Yes, yes, China has a lot to see, I didnt quite understand it just now either, never mind, never mind."

  The fat man continued to tease: "I said that this leader worked hard, and here in the countryside, Im afraid its a bit slow."

  That person listened and didnt think it was good to get angry, so he let the fatty talk nonsense and continued to flatter: "The mountains are great, the air in the mountains is fresh..."

  I saw a letter with a red seal on the table, and at a glance it roughly said that this group of people was from a certain department in Beijing, came here to explore the topography and mapping, and needed cooperation from local departments. No wonder Old Miao said they were leaders.

  Old Miao got up and said: "After a while, Ill take you around. Our village has a small population but a large area, its biased, there is a village public house in the village. There are kitchens and toilets inside. After lunch, I will lead you over there. Sorry for the inconvenience, our conditions are limited here. What to eat and use this afternoon, I will also send someone to deliver. If anything happens in this village, just let me know."

  At lunch, only Wangzi and Miao Laojie and that person with the surname Qian were at the main table. The two of us just held our bowls in the courtyard. Originally planned to go home tomorrow, but Cha Wenbin said to stay for another two days to take a look around, he was worried about Miao Laojies safety. Whats the point of bringing a gun for surveying? And those other seven people havent spoken a word from morning till now and havent entered the house, they must be well-trained.

  "Come on, come on, Ill add another bowl for you." Old Miao said politely to Mr. Qian.

  That man repeatedly pushed and said: "Ive eaten enough, thank you village chief."

  Miao Lao Die had a rustic simplicity and hospitality, saying: "The meal isnt even enough to fill your belly?"

  "Hey, old man, youre wrong. Food cant be described as eating full, only eating well." He then stared at Mr. Qian and said, "Isnt that right?"

  That man laughed and said: "Right, right, this little brother is absolutely right."

  Old Miao asked in confusion: "Why? Of course this meal is meant to be eaten until full."

  Fat boy put down his bowl and chopsticks, looking at Mr. Qian and said: "Old man, you dont know this, but in any place in the country, its okay to say youre full, except in front of us Sichuan people." Then he continued in dialect: "We Sichuan people have a curse that goes like this: You turtle egg, are you full?". Fat boy was perhaps even impressed by his own wit, and after seeing Mr. Qians face turn into a pig liver color, he couldnt hold it in anymore and spat out a mouthful of white rice...

  Mr. Qians temper was absolutely excellent, he patted the rice on his hair and continued to say to Old Man Miao: "Nothing, nothing..."

  When Fatso told us this, I almost burst out laughing. These kinds of jokes are just his style. When it comes to being a smooth talker, hes definitely not going to lose to a native Beijinger. This further confirms our suspicions: theres definitely something wrong with these people! Theyre enduring, no matter how Fatso provokes them, they always back down. This also shows that these people are not ordinary people. Our decision to stay is correct.

  The village office is separated from Miao Laos house by a river, and there is a stone bridge on the river. The two doors face each other, and if we want to say surveillance, we can see each others movements without leaving the door. However, since that group of people entered the village office in the afternoon, they have never come out again, and the gate has been closed all the time.

  In the evening, Old Miao went over to visit and it was still Mr. Qian who came out, while others were nowhere to be found. He explained that they were all tired and sleeping, and asked Old Miao to be their guide again tomorrow to take them around.

  Fatso immediately volunteered to accompany Miao Lao after learning about the situation, and Miao Lao agreed because Fatsos reason was: We are city people who can communicate, and we are also familiar with this village.

  At night, the four of us took turns staring at the large gate across from our window. The house across the street turned off its lights at 7 oclock and remained quiet until dawn, everything was normal...