Hope

The aroma of stewing meat had begun to spread through the kitchen, mingling with the scorched fragrance of chilies and fat, tempting the appetite.

Fang Yuan took a deep breath of the cold air filled with the scent of hearth and home. Feeling the blood and qi within him stirring faintly from labor, his heart was calm and grounded.

After thoroughly sweeping the surrounding area clean, Fang Yuan's gaze fell on the pile of filthy snow in the corner, stained with bloody water and scraps of meat.

Leaving such things in the courtyard would not only attract stray dogs and other animals drawn by the scent of blood, but if the snow stopped and melted, exposing the traces would also pose a hidden danger.

Animals entering courtyards at night and hurting people was no rare occurrence.

Besides, he liked to do things cleanly and decisively, without leaving loose ends.

He turned and went inside, finding a worn but fairly sturdy sack in the corner of the kitchen, along with several large dried lotus leaves and some torn burlap.

Returning to the Courtyard Corner, he shoveled up the filthy snow along with the dirt beneath it and put it into a wooden bucket.

The tiny bone fragments, meat scraps, and congealed clots of blood left from butchering the pork were all carefully gathered up.

He wrapped the mouth of the bucket layer upon layer with dried lotus leaves and torn burlap, tying it tightly to seal off the smell as much as possible.

After finishing all this, he lifted the sack and silently left the courtyard again.

The night and the wind-driven snow were still the best cover.

Rather than going to the village's usual dumping ground, he circled farther out beyond the village and chose a remote, deserted ravine that few people ever passed through.

The ground there lay low, and the snow had accumulated deeper. Even if there was some odor, it would soon be completely buried.

He hurled the sack deep into the ravine. It struck the thick snow with a dull thud,

and was quickly covered by falling snowflakes, leaving no sign of anything unusual.

Only after dealing with this final trace did Fang Yuan truly feel at ease.

He dusted off his hands as though he had merely finished an ordinary farm chore, then turned and headed back the way he had come.

The entire process had been calm and practiced, carrying a seasoned caution that did not suit a scholar's identity.

Whether it was breaking down prey, cleaning up traces, or disposing of waste, he did everything in perfect order, as though he had been born to do it.

When he returned to the courtyard gate, he checked the surroundings once more. There was only the sound of wind and snow, along with the warm lamplight spilling from his own kitchen.

He pushed the door open, barred it again, and completely shut out the cold and potential dangers beyond.

In the kitchen, the aroma of stewing meat had grown so rich it seemed impossible to disperse, especially after the chilies had been added for seasoning.

The broth in the pot bubbled away, accompanied by Little Bean Sprout's eager lip-smacking.

"Is everything taken care of?" Liu Wanwan asked over her shoulder. She had probably guessed what he had gone out to do.

The Fang Yuan of today put her at ease.

"Mm, it's all cleaned up." Fang Yuan nodded and went to the water jar to scoop up water and wash his hands.

The scent of meat from the pot grew even stronger, and the spicy fragrance of chilies mingled with fat filled the entire kitchen with warmth.

Little Bean Sprout squatted before the stove, her little face glowing red in the firelight. Her bright eyes stared at the pot, and an irrepressible smile curled at the corners of her mouth.

In the courtyard, Fang Yuan had already finished sweeping the snow and was returning the broom to its place, his movements crisp and efficient.

Liu Wanwan withdrew her gaze, the corners of her lips lifting slightly without her noticing. The huge stone that had weighed on her heart for so long

seemed to have loosened somewhat along with her Husband's change.

Though the days ahead would still be difficult, with a husband like this who could shoulder burdens and knew how to care for his family, she felt that this winter did not seem quite so hard to endure.

She picked up the ladle and gently stirred the meat broth in the pot. "Husband, wash your hands. The meal will be ready soon," she called softly toward the doorway.

"I'm coming." Fang Yuan's voice was steady.

After a whole night of commotion, when a pale strip of dawn began to appear at the horizon, the snow that had fallen all night silently came to a stop.

The fire in the stove was still burning brightly, and the Wild boar meat stewing in the large iron pot bubbled away.

The rich fragrance of meat mingled with the spicy, salty scent of chilies and Fine salt, nearly filling every corner of the room

and driving away all the cold and gloom.

The small table had already been set.

In the center sat a large basin of glossy stewed Wild boar meat in thick broth. Beside it was a bowl of steaming White rice, each grain distinct, as well as a small dish of pickled vegetables.

For Fang Yuan's family, it was a feast they would not have dared dream of even during the New Year.

Little Bean Sprout could no longer hold herself back. She sat obediently on her little stool, both hands gripping the edge of the table.

She gazed longingly at the basin of meat, then looked at Brother. Her little throat bobbed as she kept swallowing, her eyes full of yearning and anticipation.

She had waited far, far too long for this meal.

After serving the last three bowls of rice, Liu Wanwan sat down as well. Looking at everything before her, she still felt as though it was unreal.

Seeing his little sister looking like a greedy kitten, then looking at the rare feast on the table, Fang Yuan felt an unusual swell of satisfaction and bold spirit in his heart.

He swept out a broad hand and declared in a ringing voice,

"What are you all staring for? Dig in!"

"Yay! Time to eat!" Little Bean Sprout immediately let out a small, irrepressible cheer.

She almost impatiently reached out with her chopsticks, yet still remembered to place a piece in Brother's bowl first, then another in her sister-in-law's bowl.

Only then did she quickly pick up a piece for herself. After blowing on it twice, she stuffed it into her mouth, sucking in breaths from the heat.

Yet her little face instantly blossomed with incomparable happiness and contentment, her eyes narrowing into two thin crescents.

"Eat slowly, slowly—don't burn yourself!" Liu Wanwan hurriedly reminded her, picking up her own chopsticks as well.

Looking at the solid piece of meat in her bowl, countless feelings rose within her. She carefully took a bite.

The meat was firm and carried the distinctive fragrance of game. The mild heat of the chilies perfectly cut through the greasiness.

Fang Yuan also began eating in large mouthfuls.

Now that he practiced martial arts, his consumption was immense, and his need for meat far exceeded that of an ordinary person.

He ate quickly, but with focus. Every bite of meat and every grain of rice turned into blood-and-qi energy that nourished his body.

For a time, the only sounds in the room were bowls and chopsticks clinking and food being chewed.

Whether this meal counted as a dinner to reward the previous night's hard work or a breakfast to begin the new day, it was exceptionally delicious.

After the lavish meal that could not quite be called breakfast or dinner, Liu Wanwan briskly cleared away the bowls and chopsticks and wiped the stove clean.

Seeing that daylight had fully broken outside the window, she thought of the bolts of new cloth.

She went to the only old wooden chest in the room and began searching through it.

Most of the chest contained worn-out clothes and miscellaneous odds and ends. She carefully rummaged through them and found a sewing basket, a thimble,

and a pair of scissors that had been used for many years but remained sharp.

After doing all that, she turned to look toward the kang bed.

At some point, Fang Yuan had lain down fully clothed and begun breathing evenly and deeply. The exhaustion from running about all night, along with the satisfaction of a full meal,

had caused a fierce wave of drowsiness to sweep over him at once, and he was now fast asleep.

Holding a measuring tape, Liu Wanwan walked over to the kang and looked at Fang Yuan's sleeping profile.

Morning Light filtered through the window paper and fell softly across his face.

She had to admit that, as a scholar, Fang Yuan's features were refined and upright. It was only that in the past, they had always been shrouded in pent-up gloom and sorrow.