Earthen ridges, slopes, and soil.

A small black antenna, how small? It was even lower than the clumps of grass that hugged the ground beside it. It wriggled out of the soil layer, cautiously probing its surroundings, then straightened its dark, unremarkable body as if exploring, standing erect in the air. Seemingly finding no danger, the little antenna quickly retracted. Then, the ground began to tremble, shaking continuously. After the antenna withdrew, the earth cracked and split, and a gust of wind swept through, raising plumes of yellow dust, as if foreshadowing that something astonishing was about to happen on this vast, desolate stretch of yellow land.

Old Luo had no idea what was about to occur. At over sixty years old, he could be considered one of the few long-lived elders in the village. As the saying goes, having an elder in the family is like having a treasure. Now Old Luo lived a comfortable life, especially since his eldest son had been elected head of the village by the villagers. Naturally, Old Luo's words carried considerable weight in the village.

Although just past sixty, the turbulent life of his youth had left indelible marks on Old Luo. His face was deeply lined, with two clear scars running down from his forehead.

The afternoon sun was warm, making people feel quite lazy when it shone on them. The mountain breeze was still somewhat cool, which might have been a bit cold for an elderly person. Old Luo pulled his dogskin coat tighter around him, his gaze somewhat unfocused. There was nothing he could do; once a person got old, they tended to reminisce about the past. Old Luo casually picked up a handful of soil from the edge of the field, rubbed it apart, and sniffed it. It seemed fine, not too dry, and smelled right. Perhaps this year's harvest would be good.

"Grandpa, Grandpa!" A little boy running from afar caught Old Luo's attention. He was Old Luo's sixth grandson, the youngest, who was just a little over four years old. The child had a round, sturdy build, very cute. Although almost no one had seen a real wild tiger these days, many adults still liked to include the character for 'tiger' when naming their children. This little grandson was named Luo Hu.

"Tell me a story, Grandpa." The little boy looked at Old Luo with eager eyes and cleverly said, "May the mushrooms be abundant!"

"May the granary be full of rats." Only then did Old Luo pat his grandson's head in satisfaction and instruct, "Don't forget your manners, no matter what!"

"I know, Grandpa! I won't forget."

The cheerful voice of his young grandson greatly improved Old Luo's mood, and he chuckled, asking, "What kind of story do you want to hear?"

"The last time you told me about how you and your friend crawled into a rat hole looking for food. What happened after that?" Don't underestimate the child; he had a good memory, and it's no wonder, considering there wasn't much fun to be had in this remote little mountain village.

Old Luo sat down at the edge of the field; the ground was still warm, making him comfortable. His grandson sat beside him, and the old man's gaze grew unfocused again, as if he were once more lost in memories of the past.

"Dad! Old Luo!" An urgent shout startled Old Luo from his storytelling. Looking at the sky, he saw it was already close to dusk. The old man stood up from the edge of the field and looked to see who was coming. It was a young man from the village named Wang Zheng.

Wang Zheng was in his early twenties, with thick eyebrows but small eyes, and a square face. Early on, while hunting large insects on the back mountain, he had received a small scar on his face. He was a very honest person, so what could have frightened him so much?

"Don't panic, Wang kid, what's the matter? You've forgotten your manners?" As one of the few elders in the village and the father of the acknowledged village chief, Old Luo naturally maintained a sense of composure. Moreover, he thought that when they first moved here, they chose this place because three sides of the village were surrounded by rocky ravines, with only one side being a mountain pass. Over ten years, the villagers had dug a large ditch connected to an underground river and introduced mountain spring water, building a wooden fence with a drawbridge in the middle for villagers to enter and exit. The village had its own wells, farmland, and pasture, and most precious of all, a brine well. The terrain was perilous, and they were self-sufficient, so nothing serious had ever happened in all these years. What could be so important now?

Breathing heavily, Wang Zheng gave a somewhat embarrassed smile and hurriedly used the formal greeting for the barren land: "May the mushrooms be abundant."

Only then did Old Luo nod in satisfaction. There wasn't much left from the ancestors, and without manners, they would be no different from savages. He then replied, "May the granary be full of rats."

Wang Zheng continued, "Insects! Huge insects! They're everywhere on the mountain!" Wang Zheng was panting, having run so hard, and took a few more breaths before adding, "There are so many, they're blocking the slope at the village entrance!"

"Go!" Despite his age, Old Luo was still agile. Without another word, he grabbed Wang Zheng and headed towards the village entrance. As they walked, he didn’t forget to instruct his grandson: "Hurry back and find your mother. No more running around; it’s getting dark!"

On the way, Wang Zheng recounted the events in detail.

In the afternoon, two young men from the Li family were guarding the village entrance. When they prepared to raise the drawbridge at dusk, the insects appeared. At first, they rushed towards the drawbridge, but fortunately, the Li brothers were alert and quick. Only a dozen or so insects managed to cross the bridge and were killed by the Li brothers and the villagers who came to help. Now, these insects were blocking the village entrance, refusing to disperse.

"Wow, Lord Luo, each of those insects weighs over ten pounds. When three or five gather, they dare to attack people, as if they don’t care about their lives," Wang Zheng said, gesturing as he walked. "After raising the drawbridge, everyone was at a loss. So we were sent to call the elders for advice."

When the two arrived at the village entrance, it was just getting dark. With the light of the torches, Old Luo couldn’t help but take a deep breath. Hundreds of insects, perhaps even more, were densely packed near the ditch. Some lay motionless, while others scurried around, but none dispersed.

The smallest of these insects weighed about ten pounds, and the largest might weigh over twenty. Their gray-black carapaces were shiny, and their six legs looked strong. Two large pincers protruded from their mouths, and two small antennae from their heads, with red eyes at the tips. The large pincers constantly opened and closed, making a constant clicking sound that was bone-chilling, creating a truly bizarre scene.

The crowd, which had been noisy, quieted down significantly when they saw Old Luo arrive. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on him, and this attention made Old Luo a bit nervous, though he felt mostly responsible and confident.

"Have Li Shun throw a torch to probe the situation," Old Luo said after a moment’s consideration.

Li Shun, like his father, was known for his skillful hands. His father had been a master carpenter, and Li Shun not only learned everything but also built a catapult based on ancient texts. He could launch large stones over a hundred steps and small objects like torches over three hundred steps.

At Li Shun’s call, the young men operating the catapult worked together, and with a loud bang, the torch was thrown high into the air. The insects became agitated in the firelight, and as the torch landed, Old Luo’s heart sank. Wang Zheng hadn’t exaggerated; the entire mountain was covered with insects, possibly tens of thousands!

Old Luo walked to the spot where the insects had been killed earlier, squatted down, and asked for a knife. He skillfully cut open the insect’s carapace and extracted what looked like a digestive organ, which contained undigested seeds, leaves, mice, and plant roots. He then cut off an insect leg and roasted it over the fire. The air filled with a faint aroma, and he gestured to stop the young men who wanted to taste it. After biting into the insect leg and eating the meat, he found it quite tasty and safe to eat.

If they could kill all these insects and eat the meat, drying the excess for later, Old Luo would be delighted. However, killing so many at once was impossible, and prolonged efforts could lead to unforeseen problems.

Old Luo shivered involuntarily!

"Call all the able-bodied men to come out, work through the night, prepare the barbed arrows with ropes attached, and try to catch as many as possible," Old Luo instructed clearly. "Don’t use flamethrowers; we don’t want to alarm the insects! Eat more meat these days, and preserve any excess as jerky! This is a gift from heaven!"

"Alright!" The two Li brothers responded and turned to fetch the arrows.

"You can count on us, Lord Luo!" The Wang family naturally didn’t lag behind.

Seeing everyone get to work, the few elders present understood that maintaining morale was crucial. They gathered around Old Luo to discuss a plan.

The elders communicated in a peculiar way, using sign language originally meant for the deaf. Later, the village elders adopted it for discussing confidential matters. According to village rules, no one under forty could learn the sign language, ensuring the younger generation wouldn’t understand.

"This is strange, let’s start killing them, as many as we can," the Li family matriarch said, her mouth nearly toothless but her mind sharp. Her gestures were quick despite her sunken cheeks.

"What if we can’t kill them all?" the Wang family patriarch asked. He was the youngest among the elders but already had graying hair.

"It’s been dry these past few days. Watch the wind direction and set a fire!" the Wang matriarch added, more astute than her husband, effectively making decisions for the Wang family.

"That’s our only option. Otherwise, prolonged efforts might lead to illness. A few years ago, the Niu family village a hundred miles away became a ghost town due to a mysterious disease. No one dares to go there now," the Li matriarch nodded and signed. "Lord Luo, you and your son should make the final decision."

Old Luo chuckled bitterly and looked at his newly appointed son, then at the weathered faces of the other elders: "Everyone’s right; I agree. Let’s treat this as a gift from heaven. Kill first, then burn. If all else fails, there’s the cable on the back mountain. We can still cross it, and if necessary, move the entire village."

The elders fell silent, nodding in agreement. They had lived here for decades and had developed a deep attachment. Though they hadn’t left the mountains in years, the last traveling merchant visited over three years ago. Now, only nearby villagers came each autumn to collect surplus grain, and no one knew exactly what the outside world was like. But they couldn’t risk the lives of hundreds of villagers.

'Heaven, I’ve experienced everything in my life. Why can’t you let me rest in peace in my old age?' Old Luo thought with a sense of resignation, but he heard his grandson’s joyful cry: "Oh! Meat to eat! Until we’re full!"

For the impoverished villagers, insect meat could be stewed, boiled, or dried as snacks. Sprinkled with salt, it was a supreme delicacy for children, no wonder his grandson was so happy.

But where did these insects come from?