After carrying the basket of dirty bedding outside, Fan Changyu let out a sigh.

He had most likely seen the booklet already. Since he had put it away without mentioning it, she would simply pretend the matter never existed either.

Seeing it was still early, she headed out once more and went to the market to buy two fat pigs and a chicken.

Before becoming a pot of nourishing soup, the chicken had a more important mission—

she intended to use it to catch that gyrfalcon.

Though her father had been a butcher, he had also been an excellent hunter. Back then, she had followed him into the mountains to hunt wild boars and trap rabbits, so naturally she knew how to make traps as well.

Fan Changyu originally wanted to set a trap in the courtyard, but worried Changning might accidentally trigger it and get hurt. After thinking it through, she climbed up to the attic and then onto the roof, tied the old hen there, and arranged the trap devices her father once used nearby. Only then did she finally climb down satisfied.

One pig would be slaughtered tomorrow.

The other she killed today to make cured meat.

Cured meat, as the name suggested, was made during the twelfth lunar month. Meat could already keep longer in winter, but once the weather warmed, it would still spoil. Made into cured meat, however, it could last all the way into next year.

Teachers at academies accepted not only silver as tuition, but cured meat of equal value as well.

Many scholars even had to buy strips of cured meat during the New Year to present to their teachers, then buy more again in spring as tuition.

Back then, every year Madam Song would use the money she earned from embroidery and laundry work to buy cured meat from her father for Song Yan’s tuition.

Now, Fan Changyu deeply suspected the woman had intentionally acted pitiful in front of her parents.

At that time Madam Song’s hands were always covered in chilblains during winter. The patches on her clothes outnumbered the original fabric itself. She often embroidered late into the night yet could not bear to waste lamp oil, trimming only the tiniest sliver of wick to burn, giving off barely a bean-sized glow.

After years of straining her eyes like that, her vision had deteriorated badly. At night she could barely see.

Back then, seeing that lonely widow and orphan living beside them, and hearing Madam Song say that Old Scholar Song had failed the imperial examinations his entire life while Song Yan was intelligent and promising, wanting to fulfill his father’s final wish—

her parents had softened and given them cured meat for his tuition.

Now whenever Fan Changyu thought about the Song mother and son, she could only hope Heaven would open its eyes and make Song Yan fail the examinations completely.

While cursing them inwardly, she went to the backyard to boil water and prepare for slaughtering the pig.

—

The shrill squeals of pigs drifted into the south room.

Xie Zheng’s brush accidentally streaked a line of ink across the page.

He crumpled the ruined paper and tossed it into the brazier beside him before leaning back and rubbing his brow.

Just as the endless squealing was beginning to irritate him, the door suddenly pushed open. A tiny figure clung to the doorframe and peeked in with half her head.

“Brother-in-law, wanna watch piggy killing?”

Her grape-like eyes sparkled brightly.

“Big Sister is super amazing at killing pigs!”

Fan Changyu normally slaughtered pigs before dawn. Since Xie Zheng’s knee—injured from tumbling down a cliff during his escape—still had not fully healed, he rarely left the room and naturally had never seen her work.

Today, however, the squealing from the backyard had gone on far too long.

And there were two pigs squealing together.

The noise practically threatened to lift the roof off the house.

After a brief pause, Xie Zheng nodded and rose with his crutch.

Not because he wanted to watch pig slaughtering—

but because if those pigs kept screaming any longer, he intended to simply stab them to death himself for some peace and quiet.

Passing through the main hall led to the kitchen, and beyond the kitchen was a small door connecting to the backyard.

That little door stood open now.

At a glance, Xie Zheng saw the woman with one foot planted firmly atop a pig’s back. A rope as thick as a thumb was in her hands as she bound the pig—whose legs had already been tied together—to a heavy stone bench.

Little Changning proudly lifted her chin.

“My sister is amazing, right?”

Xie Zheng did not answer.

Now that he stood closer, the pig’s squeals sounded even sharper and more piercing. Its struggling looked extremely fierce too.

Xie Zheng had seen army cooks slaughter pigs before. Even then, it usually took several burly men to pin down a single fat pig.

Though the woman before him clearly could not be described as delicate, she was still only a young woman. How could she compare to those rough soldiers?

Frowning slightly, he was about to step forward and help when he suddenly saw her slap the pig hard across the head.

“Behave yourself!”

The slap rang out loud and clear.

Instantly, the pig’s squealing weakened dramatically.

Even its struggling lessened.

For the first time, unmistakable shock surfaced in Xie Zheng’s usually lazy eyes.

She slapped it unconscious?

Unconscious???

How terrifyingly strong was she?

The image this woman left him with suddenly swung wildly between weeping over a worthless man and knocking out pigs with one slap, leaving him unable to suppress a frown.

Once she finished tying the pig securely to the stone bench, Fan Changyu turned around and finally noticed Xie Zheng and her little sister secretly peeking around the doorway.

Immediately she scolded, “Ningniang, how many times have I told you? Children aren’t allowed to watch pig slaughtering.”

Changning aggrievedly withdrew her head behind the door, leaving only the two little buns atop her head still visible.

Fan Changyu was somewhat surprised to see Xie Zheng there.

She wore the short outfit specifically reserved for slaughtering pigs, and after wrestling with one, loose strands of hair hung messily over her forehead. She looked rather disheveled, yet there was also a sort of sharp competence and heroic spirit about her.

Busy as she was, she had no time to dwell on earlier awkwardness. After only a brief moment of surprise, she said:

“If you’re not in a hurry to go back inside, help me watch the fire for a bit.”

The large pot on the stove held water for scalding pig hair later.

Xie Zheng glanced at the temporary stove setup and, for once in his life, obediently walked over without complaint.

After arranging the wooden basin to catch blood, Fan Changyu picked up the slaughtering knife.

Still one clean strike.

As blood gushed out, specks inevitably splattered onto her clothes. Her gaze fixed upon the wound—cold and sharp, like a predator staring at prey already torn apart beneath its claws.

Only after a long while did the killing intent around her gradually fade.

The moment she looked up, however, she realized the man behind the stove was staring at her with an unreadable expression.

His gaze was usually cold and indifferent, yet now there seemed to be some profound depth hidden within it, like a bottomless ancient well.

Fan Changyu sheathed the knife and also tucked away the hostility around her.

“Did I scare you?”

Xie Zheng tossed another piece of firewood into the stove. Firelight flickered across his refined face.

As though her question amused him greatly, the corners of his lips lifted lazily.

“Not quite.”

Fan Changyu dragged the slaughtered pig aside and glanced at him.

“You should head back inside. Once hot water gets poured over the pig hair, the smell gets awful.”

Xie Zheng remained seated.

“I’ve smelled worse.”

The smell of corpses rotting in piles.

Today this man seemed somewhat strange.

Fan Changyu stopped bothering about him and poured scalding water over the pig before beginning to scrape the hair clean.

Xie Zheng sat upon the little stool behind the stove watching her work, the corners of his eyes slightly lifted.

Suddenly he found her much more pleasing while slaughtering pigs.

He asked casually, “Your martial skills were taught by your father?”

Fan Changyu paused briefly while scraping pig hair before continuing again.

“Mm. My father traveled everywhere escorting caravans. He studied under many teachers and learned all kinds of techniques to stay alive. I just picked up a few moves from him.”

Xie Zheng did not continue asking.

Instead he quietly watched her scrape pig hair, looking lazily relaxed despite sitting among stacks of firewood. With features that handsome, even that scene somehow remained pleasing to the eye.

Before nightfall, Fan Changyu finished dividing up the pork. She kept a small portion aside for braised pork tonight while rubbing the rest thoroughly with coarse salt before stacking it neatly skin-side-up inside a large clean stone vat in the courtyard, covering it with a bamboo tray.

To make cured meat, it first needed to sit salted for seven or eight days before later being smoked with cypress branches.

Salt was considered valuable elsewhere these days, but Qingping County produced green salt locally, so prices here were relatively cheap—only a dozen or so copper coins per jin.

Salt merchants transported it elsewhere and sold it for several times the price. She had heard that in some regions merchants demanded over a hundred coins per jin, leaving the common people there miserable.

Since the large pot used for boiling water still sat over burning flames—and the pot itself was large enough—Fan Changyu simply used it immediately to blanch the cleaned pork, pork bones, and pig offal.

The pork belly would become tonight’s braised pork rice.

The pork bones would make broth.

The pig head and offal would be sold tomorrow morning at the butcher shop.

After blanching everything, she scooped the meat out with two bamboo strainers and replaced the water with fresh clean water. Into it went spices and seasonings. Once it boiled, she added some old master stock before finally tossing in the meat and bones to braise together.

As the stew began boiling vigorously once more, rich meat fragrance escaped from beneath the pot lid.

Fan Changyu had eaten only a single flatbread at noon and spent the entire afternoon doing physical labor. Just smelling the aroma made her stomach growl embarrassingly.

Changning sniffed the air pitifully.

“Big Sister… hungry…”

The only one seemingly unmoved by the fragrance was Xie Zheng, who sat behind the stove expressionless while tending the fire.

Fan Changyu covered her stomach awkwardly.

“The meat still needs more time. I’ll grab a couple sweet potatoes to roast first.”

What she did not know was that after she entered the house, the man behind the stove remained expressionless but slowly swallowed once.

Xie Zheng cast an annoyed glance at the steaming pot.

Did this thing really need to cook for that long?

Little Changning covered her mouth and giggled.

“Brother-in-law, you’re hungry too, right?”

Xie Zheng closed his eyes rather than answer the annoying child.

“No.”

Fan Changyu returned with two sweet potatoes and buried them in the stove ash. Since Xie Zheng’s leg was inconvenient, she did not ask him to move, instead squatting directly beside him while using fire tongs to shift burning charcoal over the potatoes.

The stove opening was narrow, blocking her view somewhat, so she had to lean slightly closer toward him to check whether the potatoes were buried properly.

As she drew near, Xie Zheng frowned and shifted backward slightly, but the space was far too cramped.

Her hair bun lightly brushed against his jaw.

She herself noticed nothing.

His expression, however, tightened faintly.

She had already changed out of her pig-slaughtering clothes. Both her clothes and hair carried that elegant, indescribable fragrance she had once mentioned—her mother’s handmade incense.

The place her hair brushed carried a slight coolness and an odd tingling itch that made one want to scratch at it.

Xie Zheng frowned, about to speak, only for Fan Changyu to finish burying the potatoes and withdraw already.

Seeing him retreating to one side, she asked awkwardly, “Did I squeeze into you just now?”

The spot brushed by her hair still tingled faintly.

Avoiding her gaze, Xie Zheng merely answered, “No.”

Snow began falling again.

Fan Changyu sat beside Changning playing cat’s cradle with string. Firelight illuminated the sisters’ remarkably similar smiles and brows, warm enough to melt the coldness of the entire winter night.

Xie Zheng watched her for a while before turning to look at the drifting snow.

Eventually, amidst the rich aroma of braised meat came another scent—sweet and warm.

Fan Changyu once more squeezed herself beside him and used the tongs to dig the roasted sweet potatoes from the ashes.

Their skins had charred black, soft and steaming hot with just a light squeeze.

She handed one to Xie Zheng while she and Changning split the other.

Fan Changyu was straightforward as always. She snapped the sweet potato cleanly in half, revealing golden flesh inside, steam curling upward in silky strands. Just the smell alone promised sweetness.

She handed half to Changning.

The sisters both hissed from the heat while eating, yet the sweetness only made them happier. A little soot from the potato skin accidentally smudged at the corners of their mouths.

Xie Zheng peeled away the charred skin and took a bite too.

It was indeed far sweeter than any roasted sweet potato he remembered.

Naturally, the true highlight of the evening was the braised meat simmered for over an hour.

The thoroughly flavored pork belly was diced and stir-fried together with chopped mushrooms until the mushroom fragrance burst forth. Then a ladle of rich braising sauce was poured over it before everything was served atop steaming white rice, finished with half a braised egg.

It was the fullest meal Xie Zheng had eaten since falling into ruin.

That night, even as he prepared for sleep, his mood remained unusually good.

Of course—

that was only until the agonized screeching of a gyrfalcon suddenly erupted from the rooftop.