The Butcher's Little Husband - Chapter 92

Li Yiran watched as his family rushed to speak, afraid he wouldn’t accept their help. He lowered his head to hide the tears that were threatening to fall.

After a moment, he raised his head again and smiled at everyone. “Then I’ll accept it. Wenxuan, come with me to the study.”

Li Wenxuan followed, feeling a little uneasy. His brother was petty sometimes—who knew how he’d react afterward?

Sure enough, once they got to the study, Li Yiran turned around and punched him, then pulled him into a tight hug. “Good brother!”

Li Wenxuan grinned and hugged him back.

After writing the IOU, Li Yiran handed it to Wenxuan and told him to keep it safe. Wenxuan casually tucked it into his chest, just to reassure his brother. IOU or not, he knew Li Yiran would never go back on his word.

Now that his family had placed their hopes in him, Li Yiran no longer allowed himself to be so stubborn. He threw himself into his studies. By mid-March, he had packed his bags and left under everyone’s eager and hopeful gaze.

The whole Li family came to see him off. 

As the carriage rolled farther and farther away, Li Amu felt a touch of sadness. But the most emotional one was Le Ge’er, who stood there crying loudly the moment he saw his father leave.

Tian Xiaoman’s belly was now more than four months along and had already started to show. 

Li Wenxuan helped him into the cart, then picked up Le Ge’er, called over Father Li and Li Amu, and headed home together.

Over the past month or two, a lot had happened.

First and foremost was news about Tian Fu. He was now engaged to Yang Xiaoguo’s family and would officially marry in August. Secondly, his restaurant had officially opened in the county town.

The third major event concerned the Li family—they had fenced off a portion of the back mountain and built a large pigpen. Li Wenxuan searched high and low and managed to get over twenty piglets.

But Wenxuan was like a blind man crossing a river—he knew how to butcher pigs, not raise them. The piglets had been ordered on impulse, and by the time Father Li and Li Amu found out, the animals had already arrived.

Li Wenxuan and Tian Xiaoman pooled their money to pay the remaining balance, but it made the family finances tight. Wenxuan had to start slaughtering and selling pigs again to keep things going.

However, Tian Xiaoman had never raised pigs either, and the piglets were squealing all day for food. 

In the end, Father Li had to step in. As a seasoned hunter, he not only knew how to raise pigs, but also which wild herbs were good for treating animal diseases.

With his help, both Li Amu and Tian Xiaoman were much more at ease. 

Since Tian Xiaoman was pregnant, all he had to do was cook and look after the child. Li Amu went up the mountain to gather pig grass and cooked it for the pigs.

Tian Amu also came to help during the busiest period, and afterward returned home. He and Li Amu hit it off right away—they had endless things to talk about and were surprised by how much they had in common. After he left, Li Amu kept talking about him fondly.

But with more than twenty piglets, just pig grass and vegetable scraps weren’t enough. They’d be too skinny to sell if that’s all they ate.

So Tian Xiaoman came up with an idea: in addition to buying rice bran from the villagers for their chickens, they would also collect kitchen scraps. While most villagers didn’t cook with much oil, they still had things like vegetable water and rice-washing water. 

The scraps weren’t collected for free—nor did they pay for them with silver. Instead, they bartered with pork.

At the end of the year, each household that contributed kitchen waste would receive five pounds of pork. 

To the villagers, that was a great deal—kitchen scraps were usually thrown out anyway. Now someone was collecting them, and they’d get pork in return. Most agreed readily, and even if one or two declined, Tian Xiaoman didn’t push.

The pigs’ food was more or less secured. Whenever Li Wenxuan came back from selling pork, he’d also bring kitchen waste from his brother-in-law’s restaurant. That waste was different—rich and fragrant. The pigs loved it.

Tian Fu’s restaurant wasn’t very big—only four or five tables—but it was clean and welcoming. It served ordinary people, offering quality food at affordable prices. In addition to local dishes, it even featured some specialties from the provincial capital. Customers could eat and drink there. Most of the alcohol was cheap and suited to common folks.

Besides doing the cooking himself, Tian Fu hired two strong helpers to wash and prep ingredients, a young boy to handle the meat, and even brought in Yang Xiaoguo to lend a hand.

When business was busy, Yang Xiaoguo carried dishes and cleared tables. When things were slow, he sat at the counter to collect money. 

At first, he had to ask how much to charge. Later, he could calculate it on his own as soon as someone called out their order. Clearly, he had been trained.

Business was booming—partly due to Tian Fu’s excellent cooking, and partly because Captain Zhou often came by to eat, making it clear to others that the place had some protection.

When Tian Xiaoman had free time, he took Le Ge’er and Liu Xilin for walks around the village. He discovered that many of the village’s young men were sewing shoe soles.

It turned out this was work contracted out by a large embroidery workshop. Each pair earned them three copper coins. The faster workers could make over thirty coins a day, while slower ones earned around eleven or twelve. It was a physically demanding job—not everyone could do it.

Tian Xiaoman thought it over and took a few pairs home. He wasn’t good at embroidery, but he had decent strength. 

Liu Xilin’s Grand-amu was also doing this work. He brought a finished sole from home and taught Tian Xiaoman how to sew it by following the pattern.