The Butcher's Little Husband - Chapter 53

The “third-day return visit” was a customary ritual: three days after the wedding, the newlywed couple would visit the ger’s family so the parents could see whether their ger was being treated well in his husband’s household.

That morning, before dawn had even broken, Tian Xiaoman woke up to find the space beside him cold. Normally, Li Wenxuan slept with an arm wrapped tightly around him—so tightly that Xiaoman often complained he couldn’t sleep properly. 

Yet today, waking to emptiness, he felt oddly unsettled. Where had Wenxuan gone?

After boiling water and washing up, he finally heard noise outside the yard—footsteps, and the sound of pigs grunting.

Killing a pig this early in the morning? Could this damn Li Wenxuan have forgotten that they were supposed to return home today?

Annoyed, Tian Xiaoman went out and found Li Wenxuan sharpening a knife, with a tied-up piglet beside him.

“What are you doing? Why are you killing a pig today?” Tian Xiaoman was surprised at the sight and momentarily forgot to be angry.

“Xiaoman, have you forgotten? We’re going back to your family today! I’m preparing a present for the visit,” Li Wenxuan explained, seeing the confusion on his face.

“Weren’t the gifts all packed already?” Xiaoman asked. “Li Amu packed a whole bunch yesterday—nearly filled the whole carriage! Why are you killing a piglet?”

“We still need to bring a little golden piglet, don’t we?” said Li Wenxuan.

Xiaoman frowned. “How do you know everything? Don’t tell me you’ve asked around about this before—for some other ge’er?”

Wenxuan’s answer had reminded him: yes, he had eaten roast suckling pig before, gifts sent by other families. 

Still, hearing Wenxuan so confident about every tradition irked him—especially since Wenxuan seemed equally knowledgeable in bed.

“Wronged again!” Wenxuan protested dramatically. “I’ve never asked anyone else. I only asked for your sake, Xiaoman. You’re the only one in my heart!”

“You only know how to say sweet things!” Tian Xiaoman spat, but a bright smile crept onto his face. “I’ll go get you some water!”

He ran off to the kitchen. 

Li Wenxuan grinned—his Xiaoman was so easy to please!

After being spoiled by Xiaoman’s attentiveness, Li Wenxuan was grinning from ear to ear. Why hadn’t he married Tian Xiaoman years ago?

With the knife ready, he went to the piglet. 

The piglet seemed to sense what was coming and squealed miserably. Li Wenxuan picked it up with one hand, stabbed it in the neck, and twisted the blade. The piglet died instantly. Its blood flowed neatly into the wooden basin he’d prepared.

After draining the blood, he asked Tian Xiaoman to bring hot water and pour it into a large basin. Then he placed the piglet inside and used the back of the butcher knife to scrape off the hair.

He sliced open the belly, removed the internal organs and set them in a bucket. After cleaning the carcass, he placed it on the fire to roast.

The little golden pig was a roasted suckling pig. When a husband’s family returns the visit, they bring it to the ger’s family as a sign of satisfaction with the marriage and to give the family face. The pig is then shared with the neighbors.

Tian Xiaoman looked at the bucket of organs, unsure how to handle them. 

Luckily, Li Amu got up around then and, seeing the bucket, said, “Xiaoman, go watch the roast. I’ll take care of this.”

Xiaoman was tempted, but felt bad about letting his father-in-law do it alone. After a moment’s thought, he said, “I’ll go make breakfast. Let’s have pork liver porridge!”

He took out two slices of pig liver. They were small, but enough for seasoning. It wasn’t about filling up—just adding flavor.

Li Amu watched him leave with the liver and smiled. This child had such a kind heart. They wouldn’t have to worry about him in the future.

People always said it was better to have sons, but whether it was actually good depended on the husband. If the husband wasn’t filial, what good was a son?

And though the country had laws against being unfilial, how many parents would truly take their children to court?

Tian Xiaoman took the liver to the kitchen, soaked it in water to remove the blood.

He washed the rice and added it to a pot. While it boiled, he chopped ginger and green onions.

The rice swirled and shimmered in the boiling water. The fragrance made his stomach growl.

When the rice reached a boil, he added the ginger and a bit of salt before covering the pot again.

Once the blood had mostly drained from the liver, he sliced it and blanched it in a small pot with onion, ginger, and garlic to remove the smell.

Once the liver changed color, he transferred it to the porridge to simmer for half a cup of tea’s time—any longer and it would get tough.

He ladled the porridge into a clay pot, sprinkled chopped green onions on top, and it was done.

He brought the pot outside and called everyone to eat, then went to check on Le-ge’er.

The child slept with his grandparents, but Father Li always rose early to check the mountain traps, so only Le-ge’er remained in the room.

“Le-ge’er, you little lazy pig, time to get up!” Tian Xiaoman sat at the bedside and called gently.

Le-ge’er was already half-awake, so he opened his eyes when he heard Xiaoman and murmured, “Momo?”

“Can’t get up? There’s yummy pork liver porridge waiting!” Xiaoman tempted him.

“Le-ge’er eat!” the little foodie replied, opening his arms for Tian Xiaoman to dress him.

After dressing him, Xiaoman washed his face, rinsed his mouth, and applied some fragrant ointment to keep his skin from cracking in the winter.

Outside, Li Wenxuan and Li Amu were still busy, so he called again, warning them it would get cold if they waited too long.

Li Amu washed his hands and beamed at Le-ge’er. “You’re up already? Who got you all cleaned up?”

Le-ge’er shyly hid in Xiaoman’s arms. No need to answer.

Li Amu scooped a small bowl of porridge for him and began to feed him. After one spoonful, Le-ge’er’s eyes lit up; before the next spoon arrived, he’d already grabbed at Li Amu’s hand, pushing it toward his mouth.

Xiaoman served himself a bowl, then filled a larger one for Wenxuan, who was tending the fire.

“Here, eat before it gets cold,” he said, handing it over.

Li Wenxuan took the bowl with one hand and was about to eat, but Xiaoman stopped him. “Hey, hey, hey—it’s hot! You want to burn your mouth?”

He snatched the bowl back and set it on the stone table to cool. 

Li Wenxuan gave a sly grin—he’d done that on purpose just to get a reaction.

As they were eating in the yard, Father Li came back from the mountain. “Ooh, eating already! That smells like pork liver porridge. Xiaoman, did you make it?”

Li Amu rolled his eyes. “What, my cooking’s no good now? Xiaoman’s going home today—let’s see what you get for lunch!”

Xiaoman watched the old couple bicker with amusement. 

Then Father Li laughed and apologized. 

Xiaoman, noticing the bowl had cooled, handed it to Wenxuan.

Watching Li Wenxuan gulp it down, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow, Tian Xiaoman found himself a little dazed by how manly he looked.