This was only the income from raising pigs, but for a farming household to be able to save up a sum of silver like this was already quite an achievement.
Wang Fengnian also said they would have dumplings that night. Hearing that the elder uncle’s household was hosting a pig-slaughter feast, he was momentarily at a loss over what dishes to prepare.
Lu Yang said, “Let’s chop some meat and make meatballs. You definitely haven’t had fried meatballs or fried tofu before. I brought oil back with me—later we’ll fry a couple of batches. Oil shouldn’t be wasted. After that, we can knead some dough and try frying some dough snacks too. This year we should all eat something rich. I don’t know if dumplings can be fried, but I want to try.”
Just thinking about fried food made one’s mouth water.
They even found pork cracklings fragrant.
Seeing that it was food Lu Yang had brought back himself, Wang Fengnian opened his mouth several times, wanting to advise against it, yet afraid of spoiling the mood. He could only look at Lu Yang, hesitating, words half-swallowed.
Lu Yang patted his hand. “I’m craving it. I want to eat it. Let me try, all right?”
They were honest people—how could they not hear the meaning beneath his words?
If Lu Yang truly wanted to eat, he could eat whatever he liked in the county town. Bringing all this back from so far away was clearly still meant for the two of them. For a moment, their eyes reddened.
Outside, they were already slaughtering pigs. People could go watch the excitement.
Lu Yang asked his mother and Xie Yan whether they wanted to go. “I’ve never seen pig slaughtering before. Are you afraid?”
Zhao Peilan was a little afraid. Xie Yan was curious and wanted to take a look.
Wang Fengnian had seen it too many times. In the past, when Lu Erbao went out to slaughter pigs, he was always afraid Lu Erbao would get rammed by the pig. Every time he watched, he was on edge. After so many years, Lu Erbao had become skilled at slaughtering pigs—yet Wang Fengnian himself no longer dared to watch.
He said he would stay home and chat with Zhao Peilan, talk a bit, and let Lu Erbao take Lu Yang and Xie Yan to watch.
What could two introverted people chat about?
They said they would cut paper window decorations and paper “fortune” characters.
Only then did Lu Yang feel at ease leaving.
The village was lively during the New Year. Children big and small ran all over the place.
People always said that poor folk had a hard time getting through winter—no thick clothes to wear, having to stay indoors and not go out.
But children were full of heat and loved excitement. After several snowfalls, they still came out to build snowmen and have snowball fights.
Some kids even took apart firecrackers, carrying individual little charges around to look for mouse holes to blow up.
Lu Yang found it all novel to watch. Weimeng, hearing the firecrackers, jumped at every bang. Frightened, tail tucked between its legs, it circled around Lu Yang, whining.
If it was scared of this, how could it watch pig slaughtering? Like an indulgent old father, Lu Yang picked Weimeng up and carried it home, telling it to stay inside.
When they went back out again, Xie Yan shook his head and sighed. “What kind of hunting dog is afraid of these things? Jingzhi, you need to let it see the world.”
Lu Yang snorted. “It’s clingy. As long as it can make people happy, that’s enough.”
Xie Yan said, “…Then what about me?”
Lu Yang glanced sideways at him. “Why are you competing with a dog?”
Xie Yan said, “Aren’t you talking about me?”
Lu Yang wasn’t talking about him. “You still have to study and support the family.”
There was a difference between him and a dog—and Xie Yan was delighted by it.
Lu Erbao, who was listening nearby: “……”
They had raised eight pigs this year. Six were sold, one sow was kept, and one was slaughtered for eating—everything planned clearly.
Lu Erbao knew how to slaughter pigs. After they roped the pig and caught it, he went in with the knife.
Xie Yan had been excited at first, but once he heard the pig’s screams, he was so scared he kept retreating. He was nearly like Weimeng, just waiting for Lu Yang to carry him home.
Lu Yang pitied him and took him farther away, to watch the children blowing up mouse holes.
Once they could no longer hear the pig’s cries, they went back to watch again.
After slaughtering, they drained the blood, then scalded and scraped off the hair, and finally butchered the pig.
Villagers who wanted to buy pork could come to purchase it.
After the slaughter, they would make pig’s blood and blood sausage, and also render lard.
The meat was very fresh. Lu Yang wanted to buy some—both pig’s blood and blood sausage.
When he spoke up, Miao Qing refused to take his money, saying she would prepare it and pack two bowls to send over.
Slaughtering pigs was hard physical labor. In the past, Lu Erbao did it all by himself. He was hunchbacked and stocky, which made him look short. When the pig lay on the chopping bench, he had to stand on a stool to butcher it.
That made it hard to exert force. When cutting meat and chopping bones, he often had to brace himself against the meat or the bench. This year, Lu Song helped out. The two of them split the pig, each chopping half.
Lu Yang knew he could slaughter pigs, but he hadn’t expected it to be like this when it really happened.
He was someone who cooked often, and he knew how tiring chopping meat and bones could be. After finishing a whole pig like this, you’d be drenched in sweat.
Lu Erbao was quite happy. Since returning from Li Village, he had gone around nearby villages and slaughtered five pigs. Adding this one made six in total, enough to save up about three qian of silver. He could also take some offal home.
After finishing with this pig, the rest didn’t concern him. Reeking of blood, he needed to go home and wash up.
Lu Yang took Xie Yan by the hand and walked back with him, asking about pig slaughtering along the way.
So tiring—slaughtering one pig only earned fifty copper coins.
Lu Erbao said this was already after a price increase. Before, it had only been a dozen or so copper coins.
What could you earn with just a dozen coins?
Lu Erbao said, “Families who raise pigs usually slaughter them themselves. That way they get more money than selling to a butcher. The more pigs they raise, the more pigs I can slaughter. When you go to the market, you’ll see people selling pork. Some of that meat comes from village year-end pig slaughters. If they can’t sell it all in the village, they go to the county town to try their luck. Butchers charge thirteen coins per jin—they might sell it for twelve or even eleven.”
Year-end pig slaughter naturally happened at the end of the year. Calculated like this, he had no rest all year, always doing exhausting work.
Lu Yang looked again at the straw cloak he was wearing. He had slaughtered so many pigs that he had experience—he knew to drape a layer of straw over himself outside.
The blood-soaked straw would be kept as fertilizer. He only took it off once he got home, placing it in the back yard.
Heating water wasn’t difficult. While they were out, Wang Fengnian had already heated it up. While cutting paper decorations, he had added firewood; when they returned, they could directly bathe and change clothes. They used mugwort, which helped suppress the bloody smell.
Zhao Peilan asked about the year-end pig slaughter. Xie Yan said, “I’m timid. Just hearing the sounds, I didn’t dare look. By the time I went over, it was already finished.”
Zhao Peilan had heard the sounds too—they were rather chilling.
Wang Fengnian came out of the room and said to them, “Looking at the pig like that, you can’t help feeling sorry for it. The pig just stares at people like that—it makes your heart ache.”
Zhao Peilan hadn’t thought much about it and simply asked whether the skill was passed down in the family.
Wang Fengnian said, “No. Back then, the family couldn’t afford meat. Liu-ge’er was weak and sickly. He wanted to earn a bit of meat, so he went to slaughter pigs for people.”
Those words fell, and the room went silent. Wang Fengnian wanted to find something to liven the mood, and Lu Yang helped him pick the conversation back up.
“Slaughtering pigs is too tiring. Next year, don’t do it anymore. I’ll buy meat for you from now on.”
Wang Fengnian gave a vague response. For the two of them, having a way to earn money was rare—they didn’t want to give it up so easily.
Lu Yang calculated the days. Next year, once he went to the prefectural city, they wouldn’t have year-end pigs to slaughter anyway. So he didn’t press the issue further.
The elder uncle’s household was hosting a pig-slaughter feast. Lu Yang felt awkward just sitting around waiting to eat and drink, so he brought Xie Yan over to help.
The household only had two cooking pots, so they didn’t really need the two of them.
Since they insisted on coming, they were told to sit behind the stove and tend the fire.
Today, Lu Yang had brought tofu over. Miao Qing planned to make a big pot of stew.
She boiled a pot of meat, adding napa cabbage and tofu—fragrant and good for cutting the grease. Once the blood sausage was cooked, she sliced it and added it in as well. If they wanted pig’s blood, they could slice some of that in and cook it too.
That single pot became a huge basin of food.
There was also sliced pork with garlic sauce, pork stir-fried with garlic sprouts, and a braised pork knuckle.
Not many dishes, but the portions were generous.
The household also had a jar of liquor that Boss Ding had given them after collecting wheat. They had never舍得 drink it, but since Lu Yang had come back to eat, they opened it.
By the time the feast was ready, night had fallen. Three families ate together in the main hall. They borrowed tables and chairs from neighbors,拼ing together a very large table.
Miao Qing separately picked out some dishes and had Lu Bai deliver them to his wife, then the feast began.
They had earned some money this year: one sum from the county exam in the second month; another from selling mats to the charity cemetery; another when the new grain came in and Boss Ding bought their wheat; another from Lu Yang buying flour from them, which was a long-term business; and also from selling toasted flour.
At the end of the year, they sold pigs and then slaughtered a year-end pig. The pig-slaughter feast was lavish. All told, that pig didn’t earn much. Miao Qing took it in stride—she treated it as a skinny pig with not much meat, still a gain. After all, how much had the piglet cost to buy in the first place?
