Chapter 2: Ivan's Secret

  Yang Sicheng, who had been walking on the mountain road for almost two hours, was also feeling a bit thirsty. As he walked, he looked around and hoped to find some wild fruit. On the small path leading to the ridge, there was a sour jujube tree with ripe fruit hanging from its branches. He quickly climbed up the tree, picked several handfuls of sour dates and stuffed them into his pocket, then slid down with a "whoosh".

  Another hour's walk upwards, and the mountain top was still far away. "A horse dies from looking at a distant mountain" probably refers to this kind of situation. The small path had become indistinct, occasionally startling some wild rabbits that scurried about in panic, and there were several piles of fox droppings in the grass, indicating that there were indeed many foxes here.

  Yang Sicheng was getting a bit tired, and just as he was about to sit down on a large yellowish-brown rock in the midst of the weeds, it suddenly moved strangely. The rock quickly rose up before him and then came crashing down towards his head.

  Yang Sicheng only felt a sudden darkness in front of his eyes, and then his mouth was suddenly covered by a powerful big hand. His entire body was pressed down by a huge force, making him squat down. Just as he wanted to resist, he heard someone whispering softly beside his ear, "Shh, don't be afraid, it's me."

  Yang Sicheng turned his head and took a look, surprisingly it was the drunkard Ivan! "What is he doing here? How did he turn into a stone?"

  Curiosity made Yang Sicheng forget the fear of being ambushed, and now Ivan's body no longer had the smell of alcohol that could be smelled at any time on weekdays, but a peculiar stench unique to foxes.

  Yvan looked at Yang Sicheng curiously and smiled at him in a friendly manner, still asking softly: "Can you keep a secret?"

  Secret? The secret that the drunkard can turn into a stone? Yang Sicheng suddenly became excited, a mysterious thing has an irresistible attraction to a child, he nodded vigorously, waiting for the drunkard to reveal the truth. Ivan, however, slowed down and said to him: "Don't make a sound, watch quietly!"

  Yang Sicheng suppressed his curiosity and didn't speak, Ivan nodded in approval, released his mouth, picked up a withered branch-like stick from the ground, and carefully observed the outside through the gap.

  Yang Sicheng only then saw clearly that he and Ivan were hiding under a very large piece of yellowish-brown strange cloth, the color and shape of which looked like a big rock, if you didn't look carefully, you couldn't see it at all.

  Yang Sicheng only carefully made out the appearance of the drunkard today, a 40-year-old with a rough and clumsy round face, a big garlic nose, a typical Russian. The most striking thing was his eyes, bright blue but not big, with very sharp gaze, when he stared at you, you would feel like a fierce beast staring at its prey, completely different from the usual drunken look, on his normally clean face were painted some strange things, like oil paint and also a bit like charcoal ash. What he held in his hand was certainly not a withered branch, no one would stare at a tree branch so intently, looking at his posture it seemed like Yang Sicheng's father holding a gun to go hunting.

  Yang Sicheng was feeling puzzled, when suddenly he heard a crisp gunshot next to his ear. Ivan quickly pulled the "branch" in his hand, and a shell popped out of it. Ivan pulled him up from the ground and said: "Alright, get up, let's go."

  They walked up the mountain for about 200 meters, and Yang Sicheng saw a corpse of a fox with pure white fur lying on the ground. Was it this fox that Ivan shot just now? But when he picked up the fox and looked left and right, he couldn't find any bullet holes. The fox was timid, but it wouldn't have been scared to death, would it?

  Yiwan saw his confusion, smiled and pointed to the fox's eyes without saying a word. Yang Sicheng took a closer look and couldn't help but take a cold breath: there was a small hole in each of the fox's two eyes, apparently the bullet had entered from one eye, hit its brain, and then exited from the other eye.

  To be able to hit the eye of a small animal that is moving around at a distance of over 200 meters! This marksmanship is also too frightening, I'm afraid even Yang Sicheng's father can't do it.

  Ivan said slowly, "Foxes are suspicious animals. The mountain top far ahead is their old den. To avoid disturbing them, I only hunt the foxes that run down to this area."

  "They are extremely alert, and if you get too close, it's easy to be discovered. If you're too far away, it's hard to hit the vital spot. If there are bullet holes or bloodstains on the fur, it won't be worth much. The fox fur in autumn and winter is very valuable."

  After finishing, Ivan wiped off the strange "oil paint" on his face, then put the fox corpse into a large mouth bag and carried it on his back. He hid the "branch-like" gun and the stone-like cloth in a hidden cave.

  They set out on the road home, and along the way Yang Sicheng kept curiously asking Ivan why his marksmanship was so incredible. Ivan remained silent for a long time, then suddenly sat down on a rock by the side of the road, and patted the rock to indicate that he should sit down too.

  "In fact... I used to be a hunter too. Later, the Russo-Japanese War broke out, and I enlisted in the army. After fighting for several months, I found that shooting at enemies in trenches not far away was even easier than hunting rabbits. Because my superiors discovered that my marksmanship was very accurate, they sent me to sniper school."

  "What is a sniper?" This was the first time Yang Sicheng had heard of this term, and he asked curiously.

  "Sniper... How to say, simply put, it's someone with very accurate shooting skills and a calm and cool temperament. They can stay still in one place for an entire day waiting for the best opportunity to shoot, their motto is 'one shot, one kill'!"

  "Wow, that's so cool! I want to be a sniper!" Yang Sicheng eagerly proclaimed his "ambition".

  "Not everyone who is good at shooting can become a sniper. To be an excellent sniper, marksmanship is only the last and most basic of all sniping techniques. Strong self-control and meticulousness are the most important!" Perhaps due to being lonely for too long, Ivan treated Yang Sicheng as his most loyal listener.

  "Anyone can shoot accurately after strict shooting training, but to become a sniper, you have to make loneliness your partner. Sometimes you have to lie in wait for a whole day for a valuable target to appear, and sometimes you may not get anything at all. Can you give up the task without firing a shot? Sometimes the target appears, and you only have 3 seconds to shoot, can you seize the opportunity?" Ivan continued.

  "In the sniper school, I had a partner named Gerchakovitch, from that Soviet village near our village. He was my spotter." Ivan didn't wait for Yang to ask and explained proactively: "The task of a spotter is to help me confirm the target and distance before I shoot, provide cover for me when I'm shooting, and if I miss, he'll take another shot at the target."

  "He and I can be said to be dependent on each other, you know. When we infiltrate deep into enemy territory without any support, even after completing our mission, we will still face the problem of how to break through the layers of enemy encirclement and return safely. There is no one else who can help us, we can only rely on each other." As he spoke, Ivan's face revealed a deep longing for the past.

  "We worked together for many years, completing every task successfully. Later, the war broke out and we were sent to the Eastern Front against the German army. The fighting there was exceptionally brutal, our opponents were well-trained, during one combat mission a German sniper discovered the reflection from Gerhavt's binoculars and shot him..."

  Ivan's voice choked up at this point, and Yang Sicheng was deeply drawn into the story. He also felt sad when he heard that his partner had died. "What happened next?" Yang Sicheng couldn't help but ask.

  "After that, I spent three days and finally killed the opponent to avenge my brother. Later, the domestic revolution succeeded, the war ended, and I came here because this is Gelkhov's hometown, but his family has no one left, and I don't want to stay in the Soviet Union, so I came to your village, found that people are very good, so I settled down."

  Yvan let out a deep sigh, patted Yang Sicheng's little head, and asked seriously: "Can you help me keep this secret?" I looked up at Yvan's azure eyes and nodded vigorously: "I can! Not even my dad or mom will know."

  It wasn't until later that Yang Sicheng found out that Ivan didn't drink or smoke at all. Every time he bought liquor, it was to pour on his clothes. In order to hunt foxes, sometimes he had to smear the fox's feces on himself, and only a strong smell of liquor could cover up this faint stench.

  "Alcohol can numb your nerves, making your reactions slower, and for a sniper, a one-second delay can be the difference between life and death. Smoking during the day will give away your position with smoke, while at night, the glow of a cigarette will make you an easy target, and the butts you leave behind may allow your opponent to guess your habits and set traps specifically for you."

  "Why do you want to hunt foxes?" Yang Sicheng asked.

  "In all of nature's creatures, only hunting foxes is still somewhat enjoyable; the others have no challenge." Ivan said with some melancholy.

  "I also want to be a sniper, will you teach me?" Yang Sicheng pleaded with Ivan.

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