The butcher shop opened its doors to customers as usual.
The butcher chopped a front trotter into more than a dozen chunks with a few thuds, then swiftly wrapped them in lotus leaves and tied them up with thin hemp string. The customer paid, and the deal was done. Now and then, the shop echoed with haggling over a few coins or a couple of bones, forming one little piece of the bustling street scene.
"ARong!"
A call suddenly came from outside the butcher shop.
At the sound, the butcher's chubby son jerked his head up and clattered his boning knife onto the counter. He almost ran to the newcomer, calling out as he went, "Teacher, what took you so long?"
The butcher didn't even need to look to know who it was. He glared with his huge, bell-like eyes and bellowed irritably, "You old geezer, where've you been these past few days? You left without telling anyone. If you'd died in some godforsaken corner, who'd have buried you?"
The little chubby boy had wanted to hug Chu Yao, but he'd been helping out at the butcher shop that day, and his hands were greasy with animal fat and blood. He only realized it was inappropriate when he'd already reached halfway out. Grinning sheepishly, he wiped his hands back and forth on his clothes, smearing them with grease.
The sight gave the butcher a pain in his chest and made him furious.
To make matters worse, his son solemnly corrected his disrespectful words, telling him to mind his speech and show respect to his teacher. The butcher could only curse, "You little brat, your mother just got you those new clothes, and this is how you ruin them? Are you tired of living—"
He raised the huge fanlike palm that