Volume One, Chapter Seventeen: Hosting a Feast for the Entire Village

By the time Niu Er returned to the village, he still felt as if he had lost his soul, unable to believe that everything was real. Yet the cart loaded full of fish left no room for doubt—an entire cart of catch, all from just a few casts of the net, two of which he had even done himself.

“Niu Er, thank you for your trouble. Remember to come early tomorrow.”

“All right.”

Niu Er wandered home in a daze, no longer sure whether it was him who didn’t understand or if the world had simply changed too fast.

After unloading the fish at home and seeing Niu Er off, Zhou Wu headed to the village chief’s house.

At the village chief’s residence:

“Scholar Zhou, do you mean to invite the entire village for a feast tomorrow?” The village chief’s ears, growing less sharp with age, thought he must have misheard when he first caught wind of Zhou’s plan.

“Yes, Chief. A few days ago, when thieves attacked my home, it was only thanks to everyone’s help that irreparable damage was avoided. I must express my gratitude properly.”

Zhou Wu’s gesture was indeed to thank the villagers, but more importantly, food was no longer scarce for him. Hosting a meal was a way to strengthen bonds.

“Have you come into wealth? Did you find some treasure left by your ancestors?”

“What treasure? Chief, I’m just planning a simple meal.”

“Very well, the village hasn’t had such a lively event in a long time.”

“Then I’ll trouble you to inform everyone.”

“All right. I’ll also have some women come early to help.”

“Many thanks, Chief.”

Leaving the village chief’s house, Zhou Wu stopped by the mountain to retrieve his traps. But once again, something was amiss. The traps were broken and the prey was gone.

“Who on earth would do this?”

His first suspicion fell on Niu Bi, but since Niu Bi had been driven out of Niujia Village, Zhou Wu could think of no other culprit.

With no other option, Zhou Wu ceased setting new traps, a sense of unease settling over him once more.

Early the next morning, several women arranged by the village chief came knocking.

“Scholar Zhou, since you’re hosting a feast today, we old sisters have come to help.”

The elderly women, idle anyway, had been summoned by the chief to lend a hand.

“Oh, thank you all! Please come in. Bai Wei, bring some water for the ladies.”

Zhou Wu welcomed the women inside. Upon seeing the courtyard filled with fish, the women were utterly speechless.

“Is it… did fish fall from the sky last night?”

No one could fathom where all these fish had come from.

“Thank you all for your hard work.”

Hard work? Ha! With a few pounds of fish each at noon, any effort was worth it.

The sight of such an abundance stirred the women’s spirits, and they rolled up their sleeves, ready to work.

While the women busily cleaned fish outside, Zhou Wu’s kitchen was no less active. Besides fish, other game was brought out and, under his hands, transformed into delicious dishes.

“Oh, the village chief is here.”

“Chief, come see this! I’ve never seen so many fish in my life!”

Zhou Wu overheard the commotion outside; the women proudly showed off their catch to the chief, who stood stunned.

“Th-this many… fish…”

“Haha, Chief, have you ever seen so many fish before?” one woman teased, feeling proud for arriving first.

Villagers, notified of the feast, gradually arrived with their own bowls and chopsticks. Bringing one’s own utensils was an unspoken village custom—such grand occasions were rare, and no host would prepare enough tableware for all. This habit was, after all, born of poverty.

Unsurprisingly, the villagers were amazed by the fish-filled courtyard, buzzing with chatter.

“Is this all Scholar Zhou’s doing?”

“Or did it really fall from the sky?”

“I think I saw him and Niu Er hauling a cart to the seaside yesterday. Just ask Niu Er.”

“Right, where’s Niu Er?”

“Hey, Niu Er! Niu Er!”

Everyone began searching for Niu Er. He had already arrived but deliberately hid in a corner, afraid of questions about the fish. To him, Zhou Wu’s fishing nets were magical tools—one cast, countless fish. Such a secret could never be revealed.

“What are you hiding for, boy?”

“Yeah, tell us! What’s the story with all these fish?”

Pressed by their curiosity, Niu Er was flustered. Just as he was at a loss, the village chief intervened.

“What are you all doing? No work to do, huh? Stop bothering and bragging. Shoo, shoo!”

Respected and clever, the chief understood Niu Er’s concerns but also knew the villagers’ nature. Such a fishing method was a precious secret, not to be disclosed lightly. Thus, he silenced the crowd.

Soon, the feast was ready—simple dishes of fish stew with seasonal wild vegetables, a hearty broth rather than a refined delicacy, the kind the villagers favored. Alongside were plates of rabbit and wild chicken meat, making mouths water. Yet all waited quietly for the chief to speak.

“Everyone, please quiet down. I’ll say a few words.”

“It’s been many years since Niujia Village has seen such a gathering. We owe it all to Scholar Zhou.”

At this, the villagers applauded warmly.

“Scholar Zhou is treating everyone today to repay the kindness shown during the recent troubles. But frankly, living on the frontier is never easy. When one family faces hardship, we all pitch in.”

“Scholar Zhou’s feast is understood by all—he knows how hard times have been. The harvests in recent years have only worsened.”

“So listen well. I’ll be blunt: from now on, anyone who asks about Scholar Zhou’s fishing method, I won’t hold back. Stealing a life-saving technique is a capital offense.”

The chief’s words struck everyone deeply. They realized the truth—everyone harbored secrets. A fishing method was like a hunter’s craft. If the owner wished to teach you, you must honor them sincerely. If not, you must never steal or forcibly take it. That was the rule.

And so the feast began, a simple yet profound celebration of survival and community.