Chapter 732 Arriving at the Destination
The sound of the chain mixed with the sound of horse hooves getting closer and closer, interweaving into a tense drumbeat in his ears.
The cold wind made his eyes sore, but he stared at the moving shadow in front of him.
A few wisps of cotton wool could be vaguely seen through the cracks in the carport, as if someone had spread thick bedding inside - who on earth was this person?
What was he going to bring back to the village? With a lot of doubts in his mind, he stepped harder, and the bicycle bell rang in the wind, startling the wild rabbits in the grass by the roadside, which rushed into the fog.
The bicycle rims rolled over the icy ruts, making a crisp sound. Frost formed on Zhao Shuzhuo's eyelashes, and the hot air he exhaled formed ice crystals on his scarf.
When the neighing of the chestnut horse became clearly audible, he could see the thin figure of the young man driving the car - his faded cotton jacket fluttered in the cold wind, and his purple fingers tightly grasped the reins.
On the face of a sixteen or seventeen-year-old boy, bruises covered the lower cheekbones like a shadow, with an eerie bluish-gray hue in the morning mist.
"Little brother, stop the car!"
Zhao Shuzhuo shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice torn into pieces by the north wind. He was sitting astride the bicycle, one foot on the ground, the wheel still turning slowly due to inertia.
The sound of clappers from the production team came in the distance. It was supposed to be time to arrange farm work, but at this moment, the sudden appearance of the horse-drawn carriage disturbed their minds.
The young man driving the cart suddenly shuddered, and the reins in his hand almost slipped out of his hand. He turned his head, resisting sleepiness, his eyes were bloodshot, and his pupils shrank slightly in the morning light.
Recognizing the stranger who was blocking the road, the boy's pale lips moved, his Adam's apple rolled with difficulty, but his hands tightened the reins neatly.
The chestnut horse was spewing white mist and its front hooves were restlessly paddling the frozen soil. The carriage slid half a foot on the snow before it came to a steady stop.
Zhao Shuzhuo leaned his bicycle against the crooked willow tree, and the metal frame hit the tree trunk with a dull sound.
He walked closer on the snow, the sound of his boots crushing the thin ice particularly harsh in the silence.
The young man shrank back and hid to the inside of the shaft of the cart, and the faded red rope on his wrist swayed with his movement - it was a peace rope used for praying, with a rusty copper coin tied at the end.
"Little brother, you are from another place, right?"
Zhao Shuzhuo narrowed his eyes and glanced across the swaying blue curtains in the carriage.
"Where are you going?"
He reached out and brushed the snow off the boy's shoulders, his fingertips touching the bony shoulder blades under the cotton jacket.
"After this, heading east is Laobai Mountain. There are many wolves, insects, tigers and leopards in the forest. Last year, a mountain road collapsed, making it impossible to pass through."
The boy bit his lip and said nothing, the frost on his eyelashes falling. Suddenly, a suppressed cough came from the carriage, startling the chestnut horse and causing it to neigh again.
Zhao Shuzhuo's brows knitted together instantly. He took a half step forward and blew a cold breath on the boy's face:
“Is there anyone else in the car?”
Douzi's Adam's apple moved, but before he could make a sound, the blue curtain of the carriage was suddenly lifted, and the biting cold wind blew in fine snow particles.
Zhao Shuzhuo squinted his eyes subconsciously, and when he saw the familiar face clearly, his hand holding the shaft suddenly tightened, and his frozen fingertips almost sank into the rough wood grain.
In the morning mist, white frost formed on Wang Jianguo's eyebrows and scarf, and his originally neat gray cotton jacket was covered with mud. Only his eyes still revealed the familiar tenacity.
"Jianguo? Why is it you!"
Zhao Shuzhuo's voice rose unconsciously, startling the crows from the treetops.
He looked him up and down, noticing the undried mud on Wang Jianguo's trouser legs and the shiny dagger at his waist.
That was the self-defense item they exchanged for when they stayed at the hunter's house last year. The sound of the production team's clappers rang out in the distance, but he ignored it.
Wang Jianguo jumped down from the cart nimbly, his boots hitting the snow heavily, splashing up tiny ice crystals.
He reached out and patted Zhao Shuzhuo's shoulder, the warmth of his palm coming through his cotton-padded jacket:
"Brother Shuzhuo, it's a long story."
He turned his head to look at the carriage, lowered his voice, and the white mist from his breath spread between the two of them.
"The train station was packed with people, and all the tickets for the next three days were sold out. We couldn't wait any longer, so we gritted our teeth and bought this carriage to rush back."
He raised his chin towards the young man driving the car:
"This is Dou'er, the genius pharmacist I mentioned in my letter. Don't be fooled by his young age, the medicine he makes for wounds is more effective than the ones prescribed by doctors in the city."
When mentioning this, Wang Jianguo's face rarely showed a smile, but then became solemn again.
"And his brother, who had some trouble, has some minor injuries, and is now lying in the carriage."
The rustling sound of cloth rubbing against each other was heard in the carriage, and Yang Huaixi's pale face peeked out from behind the blue curtain.
He tried to sit up, but it agitated his wound, and he fell back into the quilt with a groan.
Only then did Zhao Shuzhuo notice that the carriage was covered with thick cotton wool, there was a pile of dry food wrapped in oil paper in the corner, and a thin layer of ice formed on the surface of the kettle tied to the shaft.
The morning mist gradually dissipated, and the sunlight penetrated the clouds and shone on the carriage, casting a layer of cold light, but it could not warm the shock and worry in Zhao Shuzhuo's heart.
The cold wind blew snow particles onto Zhao Shuzhuo's coarse cloth scarf. He looked at the scabbed scars on Wang Jianguo's face, and caught a glimpse of the blood-stained bandages peeking out from the gaps in the carriage's curtains. Alarm bells suddenly rang in his heart.
The sound of clappers from the production team in the distance came again, urging people to arrange farm work, but the situation at hand was obviously more urgent than daily affairs.
"Then take them home quickly."
Zhao Shuzhuo grabbed Wang Jianguo's wrist, and the warmth of his palm passed through the torn cuffs.
"I'll go to the production team to arrange things. Let Lao Cheng keep an eye on the brick factory and the supply and marketing cooperative. I'll be back as soon as I'm done here."
His eyes swept over Dou'er who was huddled against the shaft of the cart. There was still some snow on the boy's ears, which were red from the cold.
"Be careful on the road and don't make any more mistakes."
Wang Jianguo's throat tightened as he looked at his old friend's bloodshot eyes - he had been handling all the village affairs alone in the past few days, and the bruises under his eyes were deeper than his own.
He nodded heavily, patted the back of Zhao Shuzhuo's hand with his backhand, and when he turned around, the corner of his clothes swept off the snow on the shaft of the carriage.
The chestnut horse neighed, and the wheels creaked as they rolled over the frozen soil. The carriage slowly turned, and in the rising snow mist, the figure of Zhao Shuzhuo pushing his bicycle towards the production team gradually became blurred.
As the carriage drove onto the dirt road leading to the village, Dou'er suddenly spoke, her voice as hoarse as if it had been rubbed by sandpaper:
“That big brother…seems reliable.”
The knuckles of his fingers holding the reins were white, and blood was oozing from the cracked wounds caused by frostbite.
The carriage rolled over the icy ruts, making a creaking sound. Wang Jianguo reached out to tighten his collar, and the white breath he exhaled instantly condensed into frost flowers in the cold air.
He turned his head to look at Dou'er who was cowering beside him, pointed at the figure pushing a bicycle farther and farther away in the distance, and his voice was filled with emotion and respect:
"The man just now is called Zhao Shuzhuo, and he is the leader of our Jianye Farm production team."
"Don't be fooled by his young age. He looks like a young boy, but he is very capable."