With so many hands to help, the work went quickly. Before noon, an enticing aroma was already spreading through the courtyard.
Both pigs, along with their offal, had been cleaned up. There were hardly any people in the courtyard. Occasionally, someone's dog would come running over, drawn by the bloody smell. Outside the courtyard, Li Qiang and a bunch of his friends were kicking a pig's bladder around, heedless of the cold and seemingly tireless.
When first inflated and tied shut, the thing was still soft. After freezing for a while, its outer skin hardened until it was much like a soccer ball, so the children loved it. Their kicking had no particular method to it, but they were having a wonderful time.
Watching the children play outside the courtyard, Li Long remembered that Chinese soccer had actually been quite strong at one point. Back then, even Township Middle School had a soccer team, and the County Seat held a middle school soccer tournament every year. In another couple of years, there would also be separate Uyghur and Kazakh schools. For a time, those two schools had monopolized first and second place in soccer.
When had schools stopped letting children play soccer?
Putting the thought aside, Li Long turned and went inside.
The food had not been served yet, but in the two rooms on either side, the men were already drinking and playing cards. Some of their faces were already red.
The aroma of pork stewed with pickled cabbage filled the house. Li Long could faintly hear the women inside saying:
"They've really splashed out this time. Those two troughs of meat-there must be seven or eight kilos stewing today, right? And with the offal on top of that, how much must it all cost..."
"That's fine, as long