Rebirth: Not Being a Waste - Chapter 41
Zhang Shu and Grandpa Zhang visit several nearby villages before selecting a large black pig. It has been raised for about a year and weighs approximately 100 catties.
The market price for pork is 15 per catty, but they manage to purchase the whole pig at a slightly lower rate—12 per catty—bringing the total cost to nearly three of silver.
Since farmers rarely use silver, they request to pay in copper coins. Recently, the exchange rate has fluctuated; previously, one tael of silver could be exchanged for 760 copper coins, but now it fetches 770, which works to Zhang Shu’s advantage.
The sheer number of copper coins is overwhelming, so they pack them into a backpack to carry for payment. Grandpa Zhang is anxious about the possibility of theft, but the local customs aren’t too bad—daylight robberies are unheard of.
Once the payment was made, they herd the pig back home.
The wedding banquet is in two days, which means the pig will be slaughtered the next morning. Killing a pig is a major event for farmers, who usually invite relatives and friends to help and share a meal. The Zhang family is no exception.
Apart from Zhang An and Zhang Yun, the Zhangs have no other close relatives. With Zhang Shu’s wedding approaching, even if there have been past tensions, it is customary to inform family members of significant life events such as weddings and funerals. Whether they choose to attend is up to them, but failing to notify them would be improper.
Zhang Shu also invites close neighbors to join the pig-slaughtering meal. However, he does not extend an invitation to his future in-laws, the Li family.
That being said, Zhang Shu and Li Yan have already agreed that Li Yan will come to help with the slaughter. The only one who won’t attend is Li Mujin, as tradition dictates that the bride should avoid such events before the wedding. The rest of the Li family, however, are welcome to come.
Before dawn, Grandma Zhang lights a candle and makes her way to the kitchen.
November’s chill has set in, and though only a light snow has fallen so far, heavier snowfall is expected by the time Zhang Shu gets married.
She is dressed in a floral jacket, its colors faded from wear—an old garment, yet still well-kept, with no patches. For a farming household, this is already considered decent attire.
Outside, the sky is still dark, but a faint whiteness hints at the coming morning. Though the snow has yet to fall, a thick frost coats the ground.
She sets the candle on the stove, blows on her hands for warmth, then pulls out a handful of dried straw to start a fire.
The sun-dried straw catches flame easily, the initial orange-red glow as small as a bean before growing stronger, soon illuminating the entire stove. She adds several pieces of firewood to stabilize the fire, then pours scoops of water into the pot in preparation for scalding the pig later.
Yawning, Zhang Shu enters the kitchen.
“Grandma, why don’t you sleep a little longer? We can handle these tasks.”
“We’re old; we don’t sleep much,” Grandma Zhang replies. “Your grandfather is already at the pigpen.”
The upcoming wedding has left the elderly couple restless. Just the night before, Grandpa Zhang woke up in tears. When she asked him why, he said he had dreamed of their eldest son.
The painful memory is still vivid in her mind—the day they lost their son and daughter-in-law. Their lifeless bodies lay beneath white cloth, swollen from death. Yet when the elders called their names, fresh blood seeped through the fabric, staining it red. Some found it strange—why had the bodies remained unchanged for days, only to start bleeding at the sound of their loved ones?
If not for the grandson their son and daughter-in-law left behind, the old couple might have followed them in death.
Grandpa Zhang says that in his dream, Pingping, their eldest son, thanked them for raising Zhang Shu. Now that Zhang Shu is getting married, as a father, he can finally rest in peace. If fate denies them reunion in this life, he vows to be their child in the next.
This brings fresh grief, and the couple weep in bed for most of the night.
They don’t tell Zhang Shu—there’s no need to remind him of his parents and burden him with sorrow.
“I’ll tell Grandpa to rest inside. I’ve already called people to help with the slaughter. It’s almost time; we shouldn’t let Grandpa catch a chill.”
“Let him come help me boil water, then. It’ll be warmer here, and I’ll have someone to chat with.”
Zhang Shu nods. The kitchen, heated by the fire, is much warmer than the rooms. Having Grandpa Zhang stay there is a good idea.
Not long after, Grandpa Zhang comes in to tend the fire while Grandma Zhang washes rice. They work in silent harmony, their decades of shared understanding reflected in the simple act of preparing a meal.
Outside, the yard bustles with activity. The men Zhang Shu has invited have arrived.
First comes Li Yan. Though he doesn’t have a specialized pig-slaughtering knife, his hunting blades are sharpened to a shine, no less effective than professional tools.
Then arrive Laiwang, Yu Xiaoliu, and Zhou Da.
In the courtyard, they set up a makeshift chopping board—two benches supporting an old door panel, washed clean and ready.
Three or four men struggle to drag the pig out. Sensing danger, it refuses to leave the pigpen, squealing loudly. Its cries echo for miles in the quiet morning.
But no matter how it resists, it can’t match the strength of the men. They pin it down, tie its four hooves, and carry it out using a long bamboo pole, laying it onto the door panel.
Li Yan, his expression serious, fetches a bucket of cold water and pours it over the pig’s neck. Without a word, he presses the sharp knife against its skin and, with a swift, practiced motion, pierces the artery and twists the blade.
The pig dies instantly.
The others look on, impressed. Li Yan’s skill is undeniable—he truly is one of the most capable hunters in the village.
Zhang Shu quickly places a bucket beneath the pig’s neck to catch the flowing blood. Grandma Zhang sprinkles salt into it before boiling it into pig-blood curd.
Meanwhile, Zhang Shu pours two buckets of hot water into a large wooden basin. The men lift the pig into it, ladling water over its body to prevent rigor mortis.
Once the water cools, Li Yan sets his knife aside and begins shaving off the pig’s hair. His hands move with speed and precision, clearing one side before flipping the pig over to shave the other.
With the hair removed, they rinse the pig once more before placing it back onto the chopping board. Li Yan then makes a deep incision along its belly, removes the offal, and places it into a large basin. Finally, he uses a machete to split the carcass into two halves.
Piece by piece, the pig is broken down.
Zhang Shu thanks the men and asks them to return home to wash up before coming back for breakfast. As a token of gratitude, he gives each helper two catties of meat. Li Yan declines, saying he already has enough meat at home and will be joining them for lunch anyway.
After they leave, Zhang Shu and Grandpa Zhang clean the yard, gathering waste to bury in the backyard. By the time they finish, dawn has arrived.
Meanwhile, Laiwang’s wife, Zhou Da’s wife, and Li Aba come to help Grandma Zhang prepare breakfast. Soon, a fragrant pot of lean meat and egg porridge is ready.
The men return, freshly washed, joined by a few children, all eager for a meal. They fill their bowls with steaming porridge, some even going back for seconds and thirds. Afterward, they steam buns and share side dishes from Zhang Shu’s pantry.
In the courtyard, laughter and conversation fill the air. Neighbors sip hot tea and crack melon seeds, watching the children play. The warmth of the gathering eases the weight of their recent struggles.
At noon, the pig-slaughter feast begins.
Steaming plates of sauerkraut and pork belly are served alongside offal dishes and stewed pig’s head. It is a meal rich in oil and flavor—comforting, hearty, and deeply satisfying.
As everyone enjoys the food, no one brings up the absence of Zhang An and Zhang Yun. Some things are better left unspoken.
