The Butcher's Little Husband - Chapter 77

So much has happened in the past two days. But now that there was finally a solution, everyone could adjust their mood and prepare to spend the New Year properly.

On the 29th, they went to the graves to offer sacrifices to the ancestors.

Li Amu prepared the offerings and asked Father Li, Li Yiran, Li Wenxuan, and Le-ge’er to go to the ancestral graves. 

There was no custom in their area that prohibited a married ger from participating, but the Li family’s situation was unique. With Lian Meng sick and Tian Xiaoman pregnant, Li Amu couldn’t leave, so he asked the others to go in his place.

Tian Xiaoman watched them leave, and his thoughts drifted to the time when he used to follow his father and brothers up the mountain. Le-ge’er would certainly be held up, and join in the offerings, just as he had done in the past. It was a tradition to recite blessings like, “May the ancestors bless the Li family’s elders and children with peace, health, and good fortune.”

In the blink of an eye, he himself had grown so big, even carrying a child with the person he loved.

Imagining the future—he and Li Wenxuan taking their child to make offerings, teaching him auspicious phrases—Xiaoman felt genuinely happy.

When the family returned from the mountain, Li Amu immediately instructed everyone to take a bath. He had already boiled two large pots of hot water.

With the New Year just a day away, it was time to wash away the worries and sorrows of the past year and enter the new one feeling refreshed and clean.

However, they hadn’t changed into their new clothes yet. They would wait until the New Year’s Eve dinner to do so.

Li Wenxuan was the first to bathe, since he had been out at the graves and had gotten dirty while clearing the weeds.

Tian Xiaoman helped him pack his clothes and took them to the bathroom. 

As he did, Li Wenxuan called out, “Xiaoman, you’re just in time. Help me scrub my back.”

Tian Xiaoman, not one for pretension, took a cloth towel and began rubbing his back. 

Li Wenxuan closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation.

One by one, everyone took their baths, and when Le-ge’er finished, Li Amu’s dinner was ready. 

The family gathered at the table to eat.

In the afternoon, the village chief summoned the able-bodied men of each household to his yard to review the year’s major and minor events, so the three Li men went.

While they were busy, Li Amu wasn’t idle either.

The New Year’s Eve dinner was important to everyone, and the Li family was no exception. This year, however, they had more people, so the dinner would be more sumptuous and grand than in previous years.

As soon as dinner ended, Li Amu lit the stove, scrubbed the big pot clean, and prepared to start simmering the meat.

These labor-intensive dishes had to be prepared today, or they would be too late for tomorrow.

Although the meal on New Year’s Eve was called the “New Year’s Eve dinner,” it was celebrated differently in Willow Tree Slope. Generally, the New Year festivities began in the afternoon. After noon, a table was set in the yard, where the family offered sacrifices to the ancestors, burned paper money, and set off firecrackers. Once all of that was done, the family could begin their reunion. 

To ensure good luck, the villagers came earlier than others, and the main dishes had to be prepared in advance to avoid falling behind.

Li Wenxuan had already butchered half of a pig weighing more than 200 kilograms for the New Year. 

Besides the pork belly needed for stewing, Li Amu pickled the rest and stored it in jars.

Now, Li Amu took out the pork belly and cut it into mahjong-sized cubes.

Finally, Tian Xiaoman was able to help. The country folk were strong, and if he rested too long, he would grow bored. Cooking, after all, was something he enjoyed.

Li Amu agreed, knowing that as long as it wasn’t physically strenuous, like kneading dough, Tian Xiaoman could handle it. After all, who didn’t help out with cooking at New Year’s? 

So, Tian Xiaoman became the chef for the New Year’s Eve dinner.

After scooping out the water from the pot and allowing the remaining steam to evaporate, Tian Xiaoman added a bit of oil. Since the pork itself contained a lot of fat, too much oil would make the dish greasy. Once the oil heated up, he dropped in the fat that Li Amu had cut earlier.

As the cold fat hit the sizzling hot oil, a delicious aroma immediately filled the air. Tian Xiaoman stirred it a few times before adding some star anise and ginger slices. This would help remove any unpleasant odors and enhance the aroma of the meat.

When the fat had rendered, turning brown, Tian Xiaoman added the lean meat and other ingredients, including a few bones that he had requested.

The bones weren’t ribs but were the kind with corners, where the meat was nestled in seams. People who lacked patience usually didn’t bother with them, but Tian Xiaoman loved them. He found them tastier than ribs, which often fell apart when bitten into. Plus, there was a sense of satisfaction in eating them.

As the meat changed color and the aroma grew stronger, Tian Xiaoman added salt and soy sauce, stirring it all together.

When it was almost ready, he added a bit of sugar. This not only balanced the flavors but also made the meat look bright and red, making it even more appetizing.

Tian Xiaoman then scooped two large ladles of water into the pot, covered it, and set it to stew on low heat, leaving it to cook slowly.

Le-ge’er, who hadn’t gone out to play with Lin Xiaozi today, sat in the kitchen, fiddling with his fat cloth tiger while Tian Xiaoman tended to the stew.

Recently, the usually fierce Amu had been treating him much better, but Le-ge’er still couldn’t get too close to him. Perhaps it was because that was the first time he had been scolded, and the memory had stayed with him.

He clung to Tian Xiaoman like a little tail. 

When Tian Xiaoman put the lid on the pot and had some free time, Le-ge’er immediately came over, hugging Tian Xiaoman’s calf and looking up at him with big eyes. “Momo, I want to eat meat!”

Tian Xiaoman pinched the little boy’s round face. “I want to eat too!”

“Ah?” Le-ge’er blinked, confused. “Let’s eat together!”

“It’s not ready yet. Even if it were, you can’t eat it now.”

“Why?”

“Because you can’t eat it until tomorrow. This is a special dish for offering to the ancestors. It’s disrespectful to eat it before then.”

“Oh…” Le-ge’er nodded obediently, no longer protesting. 

But Tian Xiaoman couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him when he saw the boy’s disappointed expression.

“Le-ge’er, can you go to the Grandmu and ask for two eggs?”

“Momo, are we making soup?” Le-ge’er’s eyes lit up, thinking they were making egg soup.

“No, you’ll see when you get them!” Tian Xiaoman replied mysteriously.

Le-ge’er hurried outside, his little legs shaking. Tian Xiaoman could hear him asking Li Amu for the eggs.

Soon, Le-ge’er returned with an egg in each hand, leaving the cloth tiger forgotten. 

Tian Xiaoman took the eggs from him and kissed his cheek. The sudden blush that spread across Le-ge’er’s fair face made Tian Xiaoman chuckle. The little boy had learned to be shy.

After collecting the eggs, Tian Xiaoman found some oil paper, wrapped the eggs in it, and then placed them in the stove. Of course, this wasn’t the part of the stove used for fire.

The stove had two layers—one for firewood and the other for the ash. The ash was dug out periodically and used in the vegetable garden, where it helped the plants grow well.

Tian Xiaoman carefully placed the eggs into the stove and used the tongs to move some of the firewood, letting sparks fall and burying the eggs in the ash.

Le-ge’er watched curiously, tilting his head as if asking, “How do we eat this?” 

Tian Xiaoman smiled. He planned to bake ash-roasted eggs for him. The result would be tender on the inside and crispy on the outside—delicious.