On a level stretch of road, a scruffy-bearded Butcher about seven feet tall pushed his pork stall around, hawking his wares. A butcher knife lay on his chopping board.
His face covered in sweat, he glanced at the Sun overhead, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously lifted. He casually picked up a piece of pork and was about to chop it when a man dressed in white suddenly appeared before him. It was Ye Xingchen, who had made his way here.
Butcher paused slightly, glanced at Ye Xingchen, then wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked:
"Have you come to buy meat, sir? How many jin and liang do you need? I can cut it for you right away. How does that sound?"
Ye Xingchen smiled faintly. Looking at Butcher, who was posing as a mortal, he did not expose him. Instead, he pointed at one piece of pork and said:
"I want two jin of pork. Keep the fat separate for me. There mustn't be a trace of fat in the lean meat, or a trace of lean meat in the fat. Mince them separately. I'm taking them home to make dumplings."
Butcher paused. Looking at Ye Xingchen before him, he could not help smiling, then picked up his butcher knife and began chopping. In no time, he had minced two jin of fat and two jin of lean meat.
"Your minced pork is ready, boss. That'll be three qian and two liang altogether. Here you go."
Looking at the minced pork being handed to him, Ye Xingchen smiled, then pointed at one portion of lean meat and said:
"I said there couldn't be any fat mixed into the lean meat. Yours has fat running through it. That doesn't seem to be what I wanted. Sorry for