Salted Pork and Roast Chicken

Salted Pork and Roast Chicken

The last rays of the setting sun fell across the Zheng Family's eaves. Water had been sprinkled over the ground before the door, pinning down the floating dust of dusk and bringing a thread of coolness.

The three members of the Zheng Family were eating beside a small table facing the front door.

"Steward Wang's son was given forty strokes of the paddle by the Madam. He was nearly dead when they carried him back."

Zheng Fa held his chopsticks as he listened to his mother recount the gossip spreading through the village.

His little sister, Zheng Shan, sat beside him with half her body pressed against his. She held a rice bowl bigger than her head in both hands, her entire face buried in it as she ate with relish.

Hearing Mother Zheng's gossip, the little girl raised her head and asked, "Wang Gui? Didn't his family catch the Madam's eye and get chosen to serve as Seventh Young Master's page? Why was he beaten?"

Zheng Fa glanced at his little sister. Her round eyes shone brightly, and dark green vegetable juice still clung to the upturned corners of her mouth.

That little face was brimming with glee at someone else's misfortune. Such a tiny child, yet already so shrewd!

Though she was only six, Zheng Shan understood that Steward Wang's family was not on good terms with theirs.

Both families were tenant farmers on the Zhao Family estate, but their circumstances were worlds apart.

Back when Zheng Fa's father had been the estate steward, the Zheng Family had lived fairly well—far better than Steward Wang's family.

But five years ago, during a disturbance caused by demonic beasts, Zheng Fa's father had died while trying to bring in the crops from the fields.

With the pillar of the household gone and the steward's position lost as well, the Zheng Family's fortunes had plummeted like a falling cliff.

Mother Zheng had to raise a son and daughter while tending the fields, and life was exceedingly difficult.

Meanwhile, the Wang Family had inherited the steward's position left behind by Zheng Fa's father, and their circumstances were visibly flourishing day by day.

In ordinary times, Steward Wang was wary of Zheng Fa, the former steward's son, and subtly ostracized the Zheng Family.

The other households in the village were not blind to this, but on one side stood a widow and her orphaned children, while on the other was a steward favored by those above. People naturally sought profit and avoided harm, making the Zheng Family's days all the lonelier.

Children might not understand the causes behind adults' conflicts, but the exclusion they showed through their words and actions could be even crueler.

As Steward Wang's only son, Wang Gui was vaguely the leader among the village children. He often took the lead in bullying Zheng Fa and his little sister Zheng Shan.

Zheng Fa was one thing. He had been tall and strong since childhood, with a steady temperament that gave him considerable authority among the village children. Even Wang Gui did not dare go too far with him.

Zheng Shan, however, was lively and loved to play and make a fuss, so she had suffered plenty of grievances. Hearing that the other side had met with misfortune, it was only natural that she was happy.

"What are you making that face for?" Mother Zheng shot her daughter a glare. "They said Wang Gui had a naughty nature and led Seventh Young Master astray. When the Madam saw it, she had him paddled and sent home to learn some manners. If the Madam saw you acting like this, she'd give you a beating too!"

Zheng Shan opened her mouth, stunned. "I'm not as bad as Wang Gui! Besides, I can't become a page anyway. When Wang Gui was chosen by the Madam, he strutted around the whole village showing off. No one else got that chance!"

Zheng Fa secretly shook his head. He had long seen through Wang Gui's character. The boy was the sort who bullied the weak and feared the strong, naturally arrogant before their family.

But Zheng Fa did not believe Wang Gui had the nerve to lead Seventh Young Master astray.

It was still early, really, but the Zheng Family ate dinner at this hour to borrow what daylight remained before dusk and save on lamp oil.

Farm families ate only two meals a day. It was not just Zheng Fa's family—even Steward Wang's family did the same.

There were only two dishes on the little wooden table. One was a plate of glossy green leafy vegetables, known around the village as pigweed. It was originally cut to feed pigs, but families that were not well-off ate it too.

The Zheng Family ate it every few days. A large basin of vegetables was boiled in water with almost no oil or salt, making it truly hard to swallow.

The other bowl was different. It held tender bamboo shoots Mother Zheng had picked from the mountains that morning. Resting atop the thin, long shoots were two reddish, glistening pieces of—

Meat!

Two slices of cured pork!

Zheng Shan's mouth was stuffed full of pigweed, her cheeks puffed out, yet her large eyes remained fixed on those two slices of cured pork.

If eyes could eat, those two slices would have long since been swallowed into her belly.

She remembered that the cured pork had been preserved during the New Year. There had only been one thin strip in all, and every ten days or half month, Mother Zheng would cut off two slices. They ate it with extreme thrift.

The last time they had eaten cured pork had been a month ago.

Zheng Shan was not greedy either. There were two slices—one for her brother, and one for her would be enough...

No, Mother needed some too. Then she could have half a slice...

No, one bite!

One bite would make her very happy!

At last, Mother Zheng's chopsticks reached toward the two slices of cured pork.

Zheng Shan's eyes followed the chopsticks, and even her little head turned slightly with them.

The first slice of meat was placed in her brother's bowl.

Mm, as it should be.

For the second slice, Zheng Shan watched Mother Zheng's hand pause before her.

In the end, it still fell into her brother's bowl.

Zheng Shan blinked. She felt a tiny bit wronged, but comforted herself: Brother worked every day, so he needed more meat.

Pigweed was delicious too!

She lowered her head and refused to look at the meat in her brother's bowl. She only chewed the leaves with even greater force, as though she were eating meat.

A pair of chopsticks descended from above her forehead.

The meat held between them was so close that its fragrance seemed to slap against her face.

Zheng Shan suddenly looked up and saw Zheng Fa smiling as he placed a slice of cured pork into her bowl.

"Brother!" She bared her teeth and grinned at Zheng Fa, joy spilling through the gap where her front tooth was missing.

"Eat the meat." Zheng Fa rubbed her little head.

"Mm!" She picked up the cured pork and nibbled it in small bites, her face full of contentment.

Mother Zheng, sitting beside them, saw this and said nothing. No matter how much she favored her son, her daughter was still flesh fallen from her own body.

How could she truly bear to wrong her?

There was a reason she favored her son.

The heavy work in the fields required a man, for one thing.

And whether a household had a man or not made all the difference in its standing within the village.

If Zheng Fa had not been there after her husband's death, Mother Zheng and her daughter would have had an even harder time.

In Mother Zheng's heart, the one holding up the Zheng Family's household was her son, Zheng Fa.

Seeing her son willing to be close to and care for his sister also made her happy.

Unexpectedly, Zheng Fa picked up the other slice of cured pork and placed it in Mother Zheng's bowl.

Mother Zheng looked up at her son, an indescribable feeling rising in her heart.

After her husband left, she had felt as though the sky had collapsed. She had even wanted to die with him.

Yet her son had grown more and more sensible, making it impossible for her to let go and giving her something to hope for.

"Your mother is already so old. Eating meat won't do me any good, and I don't even like meat. You're at the age when you're growing..."

"Your son is already tall enough."

"..."

Mother Zheng looked at her son's frame, over seven feet tall and nearly eight, and found herself unable to refute him.

She found it strange as well. These past few years, their household had lacked food and clothing, yet her son had grown taller by the day.

At seventeen or eighteen, he stood half a head taller than everyone else in the village.

Their family lived bitterly, but this child had grown into the finest-looking young man in the village.

It was enough to keep the villagers from daring to slight him too openly.

That night, Zheng Fa lay in bed. The blue roof tiles above him were mottled, with starlight spilling through the gaps.

From the neighboring room came the sound of his sleeping sister smacking her lips in a dream, along with the rustle of his mother turning over.

The cotton quilt over him was old. Some parts were light, some heavy; the light places were empty, while the heavy ones had clumped together. It was uncomfortable to cover himself with, and did little to keep him warm.

He closed his eyes and drifted into sleep, filled with anticipation.

When he opened them again, the world before him had changed.

Sunlight shone upon the plain, spotless white ceiling. Outside the window, car horns rose and fell along the street.

A down quilt gently embraced his body.

The quilt was so soft, yet Zheng Fa felt no attachment to it whatsoever.

He jumped barefoot from the bed, slipped on his slippers, rushed out of the room, opened the refrigerator, and took out a whole braised chicken and four steamed buns he had bought at the market the day before yesterday, then put them into the microwave.

The fragrance of chicken gradually spread from the microwave throughout the entire room.

Zheng Fa took out the freshly heated chicken. Golden grease sizzled from its skin, and the rising steam carried a scent that wantonly teased his taste buds.

Ignoring how hot it was, he tore off a drumstick and stuffed it into his mouth.

The fragrant, steaming chicken warmed its way from his mouth into his stomach, then climbed up along his spine and became a sigh of bliss.