Chapter 4: He Dreamed of Her

Fan Changyu found a bamboo basket and scooped out the richly braised offal, letting it drain. The aroma of spices and meat blended perfectly, and the glossy sauce coating it looked far better than anything she had seen at the cooked food stalls earlier that day.

Changning stretched on tiptoe to peek at the stove. Seeing that it was all offal, she looked disappointed. “There’s no pig ears…”

She liked pig ears best.

Fan Changyu poked the large intestine and stomach lightly with her chopsticks; they were so tender that they yielded easily. “We’ll have intestine noodles tonight. Tomorrow I’ll braise pig ears.”

Changning’s eyes lit up again.

While the fire was still strong, Fan Changyu ladled out some of the braising liquid, washed the pot clean, and boiled water again. She cooked enough noodles for five people.

She told Changning, “Go tell Aunt Zhao not to cook supper tonight. We’ll eat together later.”

Changning obediently agreed and ran next door to pass along the message.

Cooking noodles didn’t take long. Fan Changyu prepared four large bowls and one small bowl in advance, adding seasonings to each. To make them more fragrant, she scooped a spoonful of rendered pork fat into each bowl. Once she poured in the boiling noodle broth, the fat melted instantly, releasing a rich aroma.

Her preparation was simple: she added the noodles, topped them with chopped, tender pieces of braised intestine, and sprinkled chopped scallions on top.

If it had been her mother, she would have simmered a pot of rich stock and used that instead of plain broth—it would have been even more delicious.

Fan Changyu placed Changning’s bowl on the table for her to eat first, then carried the three large bowls to the neighboring house.

—

The wooden stairs connecting the attic and the ground floor creaked softly under steady, light footsteps. When he heard them, Xie Zheng opened his eyes.

A moment later, the woman’s voice sounded from outside the door. “Are you awake?”

“The door isn’t locked,” Xie Zheng replied.

His voice was still hoarse, but much improved from the day before.

Fan Changyu nudged the door open with her arm, holding an oil lamp in one hand and a steaming bowl of noodles in the other. “I just heard from Aunt Zhao that this morning a big hawk suddenly swooped down and crashed straight into the window downstairs, breaking it. What a strange thing.”

Xie Zheng pressed his lips together and said nothing.

He hadn’t expected that sea falcon to be so foolish—at the sound of his whistle, it had dived straight down without hesitation.

Fan Changyu glanced at his face. Though still pale, he looked much better than yesterday.

She was already used to his taciturn nature. Setting the oil lamp on the table, she said, “Fortunately, the bird didn’t hurt anyone. Uncle Zhao will fix the window downstairs when he has time. This attic is a bit small, but at least it’s quiet.”

Xie Zheng finally responded with a faint “Mm.”

Fan Changyu handed him the bowl. “I made some noodles. Make do with it.”

Xie Zheng had already caught the scent. The unfamiliar topping on the noodles was the very source of the rich aroma that had drifted through the entire alley earlier.

The smell only intensified the hunger in his stomach. After days of bitter medicine and bland porridge, this bowl of noodles might as well have been a delicacy.

He thanked her, took the bowl, and began eating.

The noodles were smooth, the broth rich. Though made with ordinary flour, it tasted better than any noodles he had eaten before. The meat on top was tender yet springy, bursting with flavor.

Even though he had tasted many delicacies in his life, he couldn’t tell what it was.

“What is this?” he asked.

Fan Changyu, about to hurry back to her own bowl, answered, “Intestine.”

Xie Zheng’s chopsticks paused midair. At the word “intestine,” he already had a bad feeling.

Seeing his confusion, she clarified more plainly, “Pig intestines.”

His expression changed instantly.

Fan Changyu had seen people who disliked offal, but judging from how he had eaten earlier, he hadn’t seemed to find it unpleasant. Now, seeing his face turn so grim, she couldn’t understand why. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

The words came out with difficulty.

Xie Zheng silently took several deep breaths before suppressing the wave of nausea.

Still thinking of her own bowl of noodles, Fan Changyu said, “I’ll head back first. Just leave the bowl on the cabinet when you’re done—Aunt Zhao will come up to collect it later.”

The door clicked shut, followed by the sound of her footsteps descending the stairs.

Xie Zheng looked at the bowl in his hands, frowning as he hesitated.

He wasn’t delicate. In the past, during harsh campaigns, he had eaten bark and roots—but never the intestines of animals.

Pig intestines? Weren’t those… where filth was stored?

Just the thought made it hard to swallow.

But considering his injuries, this was the most substantial meal he had been given in days.

After struggling for a long while, he finally lifted his chopsticks again and stiffly brought the noodles to his mouth.

When heaven is about to place a great responsibility on a man, it first tests his resolve…

…It actually tasted quite good.

—

That night, Xie Zheng—who rarely dreamed—found himself dreaming of the woman who had saved him.

In the dream, she cheerfully drove a pig along. Suddenly, she pulled out a large knife, slit open the pig’s belly, and yanked out a long length of intestine, holding it up to him. “This is intestine. I’ll cook it for you.”

The pig’s squeals in the dream overlapped with real sounds, jolting him awake.

He realized he was lying on the bed.

The pig next door was still squealing. He glanced outside—the sky was just beginning to lighten.

There were already sounds from downstairs; the old couple must have woken up to help the woman slaughter the pig.

Thinking of his dream, Xie Zheng’s expression darkened.

Driving pigs, killing pigs, pig intestines… everything about that woman seemed tied to pigs.

He pressed his fingers to his brow and closed his eyes again, trying to block out the piercing squeals outside.

Just endure a few more days. The sea falcon had already carried his message back. His former subordinates would arrive soon, and he would be able to leave this place.

He would leave behind a generous sum of money for the woman and the elderly couple as repayment.

—

In the backyard of the Fan residence, Fan Changyu had already tied the pig firmly to the slaughtering bench.

She had inherited her father’s strength. A pig that normally required several men to restrain could be held down by her alone.

The slaughtering bench in her home wasn’t wooden—it was a stone slab specially made for the purpose. Once the pig was tied to it, no matter how much it struggled, it couldn’t move at all.

With a swift motion, she plunged the long, sharp knife into the pig’s throat, nearly up to the hilt. The piercing squeal stopped abruptly as blood poured out, filling the basin beneath the bench.

A clean kill was considered auspicious, and the more blood drained, the better.

Seeing the full basin of blood, Aunt Zhao smiled. “That’s enough blood to last several days.”

Fan Changyu didn’t respond. Pulling out the knife, her expression was unusually cold. Specks of blood dotted her face and sleeves.

Whenever she slaughtered a pig, she seemed like a different person—someone not to be approached lightly, carrying the fierce aura of one accustomed to killing.

After draining the blood, she untied the pig and dragged it to the large pot of boiling water. She scalded the skin, then began scraping off the hair.

Changning peeked from the doorway. Aunt Zhao said, “Go play outside, child. Don’t watch this, or you’ll have nightmares.”

“I’m not scared,” Changning muttered, though she still shuffled away.

Fan Changyu rinsed the pig clean, then, without much help, hoisted it up onto an iron hook in the courtyard and split it in half with a cleaving knife.

One half remained hanging, while the other was carried to a makeshift chopping board to be cut into portions.

The Zhao couple watched in stunned silence. “This girl really takes after her father…”

After finishing, Fan Changyu hurried to load the meat onto a cart for sale. The twenty jin ordered by the restaurant cook yesterday, she entrusted to Uncle Zhao to deliver.

She also added some braised offal for him—not to curry favor, but simply to thank him for his support.

When she arrived at the market, she was among the early ones. Only a few stalls had opened, with butchers arranging their meat.

Some acquaintances were surprised. “Oh? Changyu, reopening your family’s shop?”

She answered cheerfully, “Yes.”

Opening the doors that had been shut for over a month, she found everything inside neatly arranged as it had been during her father’s time, though covered with a thin layer of dust.

Thinking of him, her chest tightened, but she quickly pushed the feeling aside and got to work cleaning before laying out the fresh pork and the braised offal.

By mid-morning, customers began to trickle in.

Her shop had a prime location, and compared to the burly butchers nearby, her presence drew attention. Some customers, thinking her easier to bargain with, stopped to ask about prices.

Smiling, she quoted her prices and added, “Today is our reopening—buy one jin of pork and get one liang of braised offal free, for good luck.”

Hearing this, many customers were tempted and decided to buy from her.

Business picked up quickly, making her stall the busiest.

Across the street, a butcher glared and shouted, “Girl, you can’t break the rules! Everyone sells at the same price—what’s this about giving extras?”

Fan Changyu replied calmly, “Uncle Guo, I’m selling at the same price as everyone else. How am I breaking any rules? It’s just a reopening promotion. Or do you think I’m easy to bully because I’m an orphan?”

Unable to argue, the man flushed red. “You’ve got quite the tongue!”

Another butcher stepped in to mediate, and the matter was dropped.

Fan Changyu continued selling, and soon most of her pork was gone.

After closing shop, she packed her tools and headed to the livestock market again, her money pouch now heavy.

As she left the market, she quickly calculated her profits—over two strings of coins, with more to come from selling the head and offal.

Just then, she heard someone calling urgently behind her. “Changyu! Changyu!”

Turning around, she saw Uncle Zhao running toward her, his face full of panic.

“What happened?” she asked.

Breathless, he said, “Hurry home—your uncle brought people from the gambling house. They’ve smashed your door and are searching everywhere for the land deeds. Your aunt and I couldn’t stop them!”