Zhou Jianjun turned and whispered to Zhao Jun and Wei Lai, "This is Huang Gui, Jiang Ming’s brother-in-law."

Jiang Ming was the first Hunter from Yongsheng Village to take dogs into the mountains to corner that wild boar.

The name sounded familiar to Zhao Jun, but he couldn’t recall where he had heard it. Looking at the man’s appearance, however, he realized this wasn’t someone he had dealt with in his past life.

Huang Gui walked closer and shook hands with Zhou Jianjun. At Zhou Jianjun’s prompting, he, Zhao Jun, and Wei Lai all got acquainted.

When shaking Wei Lai’s hand, Huang Gui didn’t say anything. But when he got to Zhao Jun, Huang Gui smiled and said, "You’re pretty young, kid. Know how to shoot?"

Zhao Jun was taken aback for a moment but quickly recovered, smiling as he replied, "Just tagging along for the fun of it."

Among the group, Wei Lai was the one who best understood Zhao Jun’s abilities. But he didn’t say much at the moment. Instead, he turned to Huang Gui and asked, "Brother Huang, are you here for the Big Cannon Egg?"

"That’s right!" Huang Gui replied without hesitation. "My cousin had someone send word to me, saying that boar gored his dogs. He asked me to come over and take it down."

Huang Gui’s words were filled with arrogance, as if the wild boar was already in the bag.

As Huang Gui spoke, he scanned the surroundings, looking around as he said, "I left early, figured I’d swing by the mountain and do a quick sweep. If I take it down today, I can head home even earlier."

Just as he was speaking, a cold wind blew past.

A black dog lingering by Huang Gui’s side suddenly froze. It lifted its head, sniffed the air, then turned southwest and bolted.

It barked as it ran.

At its bark, the other five dogs followed suit, all of them leaving Huang Gui’s side.

Upon seeing this, both Zhao Jun and Wei Lai marveled internally. ’Now that’s a good dog!’

As for Huang Gui, his face was even more smug. He looked at Zhao Jun’s group and chuckled. "Since you’re all here, I, as the big brother in this group, can’t let you make the trip for nothing. If we take down this boar today, we’ll all get a share."

The share Huang Gui mentioned wasn’t the boar meat, but the reward issued by Qi Shengli: one hundred yuan and fifty jin of food tickets.

But based on what Huang Gui said, Zhao Jun and the others were merely spectators. When the time came, how much or how little each person got would be entirely up to him.

Wei Lai was not very happy about this. ’Ten dogs couldn’t even take down that big boar the other day,’ he thought. ’Are Huang Gui’s six dogs really that good? He probably just saw that Zhao Jun and I have semi-automatic rifles and wants to rope us in to do his dirty work.’

Although Zhou Jianjun wasn’t a Hunter, he understood social etiquette. As soon as Huang Gui spoke, Zhou Jianjun understood his intentions.

But Zhou Jianjun was different from Wei Lai. His family wasn’t short on money, and they certainly weren’t short on food tickets. Moreover, he desperately hoped that Huang Gui could kill that wild boar today.

So, before Zhao Jun or Wei Lai could speak, Zhou Jianjun agreed first. "Alright then, we’ll follow your lead, big brother. We’ll go with you."

"Let’s go, then." Huang Gui smiled, turned, and started walking.

By now, both Zhao Jun and Wei Lai had their guns in hand. This was standard practice for Hunters on a drive; the moment the dogs gave cry, they had to be fully prepared, no matter how far they were from the action.

But Huang Gui didn’t even bother to take the rifle off his shoulder. He just strode off in the direction of the barking.

The three of them fell behind. Zhou Jianjun whispered to the other two, "This guy’s nickname is Huang Elder Niao. He’s got a bad temper. If he says something, just ignore him. Just listen and let it be."

Huang Elder Niao. Any Northeasterner would know what kind of personality a person with that nickname had the moment they heard it.

The "Niao" part of his name, which means "piss," was slang for being difficult and touchy.

It meant the person had a bad temper and was a pain to deal with. You could make the same joke to someone else and they’d laugh it off, but if you said it to him, he’d fly into a rage.

A moment ago, the name Huang Gui hadn’t left much of an impression on Zhao Jun. But now, hearing the three words "Huang Elder Niao," he remembered.

In his past life, he had heard about a Cannon Shooter from Lingnan named Huang Elder Niao who was as famous for his skills as he was for his terrible temper.

Zhao Jun couldn’t yet tell how skilled the man was, but his first impression certainly wasn’t a good one.

However, looking at his hunting dogs—their powerful shoulders, their builds, and the way they ran through the forest—Zhao Jun knew this was a fine pack.

The three of them walked on and slowly caught up to Huang Gui. All along the way, the sound of barking was incessant, and the smile on Huang Gui’s face grew wider as he continually boasted to them.

Gradually, the barking stopped, all coming from a single spot. Huang Gui burst out laughing and said to Wei Lai, "Hear that, brother? They’ve got it cornered. My dogs are something else, aren’t they?"

"Amazing, truly amazing." Wei Lai’s heart was filled with bitterness, but Hunters let their guns and their dogs do the talking. The man’s hounds were genuinely impressive, and he had to admit it.

Getting Wei Lai’s acknowledgment made Huang Gui even more smug. He glanced at Zhou Jianjun, but then seemed to recall his family background and turned his gaze to Zhao Jun instead.

"Young man!"

Hearing himself being called, Zhao Jun met his gaze with a smile. "Something I can help you with, brother?"

Huang Gui chuckled. "You don’t look that old. You’ve got to be careful when you’re hunting in the mountains. This is no joke."

Hearing this, Zhou Jianjun couldn’t help but frown. "Brother Huang, don’t underestimate my brother-in-law just because he’s young. He’s actually a very skilled hunter."

Huang Gui shook his head and laughed. "This kid looks to be twenty-ish at most. How many years could he have been handling a gun? I started shooting when I was seventeen, and I’m forty-two today. You tell me how many years I’ve been hunting."

Zhao Jun wasn’t actually offended by Huang Gui’s words. He knew he was young. Forget Huang Gui; even his own father, Zhao Youcai, wouldn’t have believed Zhao Jun had such marksmanship if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes.