Rebirth: I Became a Maggot 2

Chapter 101 Exploding Cow Dung

Our friends around us were all lying on the ground, watching intently, forgetting even the tiny insects crawling on their bodies. We were all like Qiu Shaoyun, completely still in the grass.

Everyone was watching their friend's every move with even more tension than when launching a satellite, eagerly anticipating what kind of spectacular scene would unfold.

After the friend inserted the match, he slowly took it out of his pocket.

In our time, lighters were a rarity; matches were the only common thing. Back then, we cooked with firewood, and we didn't even have rice cookers.

We watched with intense tension and rapt attention as the boy took out the matches and slowly opened the matchbox. We could even clearly see the boy's movements as he took out the matches.

Everyone seemed to have forgotten to breathe, as if afraid that a deep breath would blow out the match in their friend's hand. All the children watched with wide eyes.

The friend finally managed to take out a match, and with a quick glance at the matchbox, the match lit instantly. It wasn't just any ordinary flame; it was a truly awe-inspiring fire.

This was a historic moment, a glorious moment. Everyone was watching that little flame, everyone was captivated by that little flame.

As the boy slowly passed the match toward the torpedo's fuse, everyone's eyes lit up with excitement.

The comrade who was handling the torpedoes had a slight tremor in his hand, whether from nervousness or because he was witnessing this historic moment firsthand, it was hard to tell.

He slowly moved his hand toward the torpedo fuse on the cow dung, and with the flickering light of the match, it finally reached the torpedo, producing a soft squeak.

Then the torpedo's fuse started burning, right before our eyes.

After the friend lit the torpedo, he shouted, "There's a bomb! Take cover!" Of course, he learned that line from TV.

As his friend rushed over quickly, he hid and waited for the torpedo to explode. The fuse of a torpedo usually lasts between five and seven seconds.

But we waited for quite a while and there was still no reaction. Had all our preparations gone so long, all this time spent preparing to witness a miracle, just vanished like this?

Could it be that there was oil on my hands? Or that I held it for too long? Did it become a dud? Or maybe we were just unlucky and bought a faulty torpedo.

In an instant, it felt as if our dream of launching a satellite, which had cost hundreds of millions of dollars, had been shattered. Everyone sighed involuntarily, and their faces were filled with dejection and disappointment.

Just when we were all very disappointed, one of the brave children wanted to go and see what was going on.

I immediately stopped the child because there have been too many unlit firecrackers on TV lately, and some people end up blinding themselves or injuring their hands when they finally go to watch them.

Since I am the leader of the children, I must act as a leader. How can I allow my people to be harmed?

Is he still a competent leader of children?

So everyone crawled out of the haystack with great disappointment. Although they dared not get close, they all stood not far away, watching the torpedo.

It was as if we were waiting for a miracle, for the torpedo to suddenly explode.

We don't care about any historic moment anymore; we'll be satisfied as long as the torpedo explodes.

It's like when we can't do the final thing, we can only settle for second best.

But the torpedo seemed to be playing a joke on us; it didn't explode and just lay there quietly, motionless.

We waited for a while, and just when everyone thought it was completely hopeless, a loud bang suddenly came from the direction of the cow dung.

With a deafening roar, like an atomic bomb exploding, the cow dung hurtled towards us like a projectile.

Just a moment ago, they were handsome little kids, but in an instant, they all looked like children picked up from a ditch, covered in cow dung from head to toe. And since the cow dung was freshly excreted and still warm, it all stuck to our bodies and hair.

You know, we're usually at our richest during the Lunar New Year, and that's when we wear our newest clothes.

Back then, our clothes were basically passed down from older brother to younger brother, and from younger brother to younger sister.

So what we call new clothes are just old clothes without holes and that have been washed relatively clean.

But even so, we were very happy because those were clothes I had never worn before, so we called them new clothes.

I remember the jacket I was wearing was a denim jacket that my cousin gave me, and I looked so handsome and good-looking in it.

But now it's all covered in cow dung, and none of the kids around me are free of cow dung.

But we were extremely happy because we were adopted, so we didn't mind having a bit of cow dung on us.

In our generation, when we asked our parents where we came from, the elders would usually say that we were picked up from the toilet, or from the garbage dump, or from the field.

My dad told me that I was found in a bridge hole, and that the hole in my nose was made when a rake hooked me up. At the time, I actually believed it.

However, most of them were picked up from the toilet, so it didn't matter that we had cow dung on us. The most important thing was that we finally succeeded in this historic moment.

And we were all involved, so everyone was laughing exceptionally happily.

They looked at each other, laughing heartily; children's happiness is so simple.

We actually continued playing outside with cow dung all over us, without feeling disgusted or uncomfortable at all. Maybe we were just young back then.

We accomplished a historic moment, so everyone had an exceptionally good time and forgot about any unclean things they might have on them.

But when we got back, I don’t know how others were treated, but I was beaten up. In my mother’s words, it was the “three shameless beatings.” What does the “three shameless beatings” mean?

If your parents, teachers, or elders hit you, it's because they think it's for your own good. You don't need to feel ashamed at all.

Furthermore, my mother also said that there are techniques to disciplining children. Children's bodies are weak and easily damaged, but their buttocks are inanimate and can be disfigured no matter how much you hit them.

So my mom took firewood and hit my butt hard. It didn't really hurt, because how could my mom bear to keep hitting me like that? But if I didn't cry, how could I prove that I knew I was wrong?