Chasing Jade (Zhu Yu)

Fan Changyu sighed as she stepped out with a basket of dirty laundry.

He had most likely seen the item. Since he had already taken it away, she would pretend nothing had happened.

Seeing that it was still early, she went out again to the market and bought two plump pigs and a chicken.

Before this chicken became a pot of nourishing soup, it had a more important mission—she intended to use it to catch that gyrfalcon.

Though her father was a butcher, he was also an excellent hunter. She had once followed him into the mountains to hunt wild boars and catch hares, so she naturally knew how to set traps.

Fan Changyu considered setting a trap in the courtyard but worried Changning might accidentally get hurt. After much deliberation, she climbed up to the attic and onto the roof, tying the old hen there and arranging her father’s trapping tools before descending, satisfied.

One pig would be slaughtered tomorrow, while the other would be butchered today to make cured meat.

As the name suggested, cured meat was made in the twelfth lunar month. Meat could be preserved longer in winter, but once the weather warmed, it would spoil. Making it into cured meat allowed it to last until the next year.

The tutors at the academy accepted tuition fees in either silver or an equivalent amount of cured meat.

Many scholars had to buy cured meat to present to their tutors during the New Year, and again in spring as tuition fees.

In the past, Mother Song would use the money she earned from embroidery and laundry to buy cured meat from Fan Changyu’s father to pay Song Yan’s tuition.

Now, Fan Changyu suspected there might have been an element of deliberate pity-seeking in front of her parents.

Back then, Mother Song’s hands would be covered in chilblains as soon as winter arrived. The patches on her clothes outnumbered the original fabric. She often did embroidery at night, reluctant to light more than a tiny wick in the lamp oil, barely a bean-sized flame. Over time, her eyesight deteriorated, and she could hardly see anything at night.

As neighbors to this widowed mother and her son, Mother Song had said Old Man Song had spent his whole life failing the imperial exams, while Song Yan was clever from a young age—a promising seedling. She wanted to fulfill her husband’s dying wish. Moved by their plight, Fan Changyu’s parents had gifted cured meat to cover Song Yan’s tuition.

Now, whenever Fan Changyu thought of the Song mother and son, she could only pray that heaven would open its eyes and ensure Song Yan failed the exams!

Fueled by resentment, she went to the backyard to boil water for slaughtering the pigs.

When the piercing squeals of the pigs reached the southern room, Xie Zheng’s brush left an ink stain on the paper.

He crumpled the sheet and tossed it into the charcoal brazier at his feet, then leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Just as the noise was becoming unbearable, the door creaked open. A small figure clung to the doorframe, peeking in with half her face visible, and urged him, "Brother-in-law, wanna go watch the pig slaughtering?"

Her dark, grape-like eyes sparkled. "Big sister is really good at killing pigs!"

Previously, Fan Changyu had slaughtered pigs before dawn. Xie Zheng, still recovering from a knee injury sustained during his escape when he tumbled down a cliff, rarely went out and thus had never seen her in action.

Today, the pigs’ cries from the backyard had gone on unusually long—two pigs wailing in unison, loud enough to lift the roof.

After a brief consideration, Xie Zheng nodded and rose with his cane—not to watch the slaughter as Changning expected, but because he figured if the pigs kept screaming, he might as well end them himself for some peace.Passing through the main hall led to the kitchen, which had a small door connecting to the backyard. The door was currently open, and Xie Zheng caught sight of the woman with one foot planted on the pig's back, holding a rope as thick as a thumb, tying the pig—already bound at its limbs—onto a hefty-looking stone bench.

Xiao Changning proudly lifted her chin toward him and declared, "My sister is amazing, isn't she?"

Xie Zheng didn’t respond.

Up close, the pig’s squeals grew even more piercing, and its struggles appeared fierce and violent.

Xie Zheng had seen pigs slaughtered in the cookhouse camp before, but it usually took several men to subdue a fat pig. Though this woman before him didn’t seem frail in the slightest, she was still just a young woman—how could she compare to those burly men?

He frowned slightly and was about to step forward to help when he saw the woman slap the pig’s head and shout, "Behave!"

The slap was so loud that the pig’s squeals instantly quieted, and its struggles noticeably weakened.

A look of unmistakable surprise flickered in Xie Zheng’s previously indifferent eyes.

Knocked out?

Just like that???

How much strength did that take?

His impression of this woman suddenly swung wildly between someone who would weep for a Phoenix man and someone who could knock out a pig with a single slap, making him frown involuntarily.

After securing the pig on the stone bench, Fan Changyu turned and noticed Xie Zheng and her younger sister, who was peeking out from behind the door.

She immediately scolded, "Ning Niang, how many times have I told you? Children shouldn’t watch pig slaughtering."

Changning pouted and withdrew her head behind the door, leaving only the two little buns of her hair visible.

Fan Changyu was somewhat surprised to see Xie Zheng. She was dressed in her usual slaughtering attire—a short, practical outfit—and having just wrestled with the pig, her disheveled bangs hung messily over her forehead. She looked disheveled, yet there was an air of competence and vigor about her.

Busy with her task, she didn’t dwell on their earlier awkwardness. After a brief moment of surprise, she said to Xie Zheng, "If you’re not in a hurry to go back to your room, could you keep an eye on the fire in the stove for me?"

The water boiling in the large pot would later be used to scald the pig’s hair.

Xie Zheng glanced at the makeshift stove and, uncharacteristically obliging, walked over.

Fan Changyu found the wooden basin to catch the blood and picked up the bleeding knife. With a single, precise strike, the pig was dispatched. Blood gushed out, inevitably splattering some onto her. Her gaze as she watched the blood flow was cold and sharp, like a predator eyeing its torn prey.

It took a while for the killing intent around her to fade.

When she looked up, she found the man behind the stove watching her with an inscrutable expression.

His gaze was usually detached, but now there was something deeper in his eyes—something unfathomable, like an ancient well with no visible bottom.

Fan Changyu sheathed the knife and reined in her ferocity, asking in confusion, "Did I scare you?"

Xie Zheng added a piece of firewood to the stove. His refined features flickered in the firelight as he lazily quirked a corner of his lips, as if her question amused him. "Not at all."

Fan Changyu dragged the slaughtered pig over and gave him a look. "You should go inside. The smell of scalded pig hair is pretty strong."

Xie Zheng remained seated and said, "I’ve smelled worse."

The stench of rotting corpses in mass graves.

This man was acting a bit strange today.Fan Changyu simply stopped paying him any mind, pouring scalding water over the pig to soften all the bristles before starting to scrape them off.

Xie Zheng sat on a stool behind the stove watching her work, the corners of his eyes slightly lifted.

Suddenly, he found her much more agreeable when she was butchering pigs.

He asked, "Did your father teach you martial arts?"

Fan Changyu paused briefly in her scraping before continuing, "Mm. My father traveled all over as an armed escort and studied under many masters. He learned all sorts of life-saving techniques, and I picked up a few moves from him."

Xie Zheng didn’t press further, simply watching her scrape the bristles with a lazy expression. Yet, his features were so striking that even sitting among the firewood, he was a sight to behold.

Before nightfall, Fan Changyu finished dividing the pork. She set aside a small piece to make braised meat for dinner, while the rest was evenly coated with coarse salt, arranged skin-side up in a clean stone vat in the yard, and covered with a bamboo sieve.

Making cured meat required salting it for seven or eight days first, then smoking it over cypress branches.

These days, salt was a scarce commodity elsewhere, but Qingping County produced abundant crude salt, so the price locally wasn’t too steep—just over a dozen coins for a pound.

Salt merchants with permits bought salt here and sold it elsewhere at several times the price. It was said that in some places, merchants hiked the price to over a hundred coins per pound, leaving the common folk in misery.

With the fire under the large pot still burning from boiling water earlier, Fan Changyu used it to blanch the cleaned pork, pork bones, and offal.

The pork belly was for tonight’s braised meat rice, the bones for broth, while the offal and pork head meat would be sold at the butcher’s stall tomorrow morning.

After blanching, she scooped the meat out with two sieves, replaced the water, and tossed in various spices and seasonings. Once boiling, she added some of the old braising broth from before, then put the meat and bones in to simmer.

As the fire brought the braising liquid to a rolling boil again, the rich aroma of meat seeped through the gaps in the lid.

Fan Changyu had only eaten a flatbread at noon and had worked hard all afternoon. Even she couldn’t resist the smell, her stomach betraying her with a growl.

Changning sniffed the air, her eyes pitifully eager. "Sis, I’m hungry…"

The only one seemingly unaffected by the tantalizing scent was Xie Zheng, who sat behind the stove tending the fire with an indifferent expression.

Fan Changyu pressed a hand to her stomach, embarrassed. She stood up and headed inside. "The meat’s not ready yet. I’ll grab a couple of sweet potatoes to roast first."

Unbeknownst to her, the man behind the stove remained expressionless after she left—though his throat bobbed slightly.

Xie Zheng shot an impatient glance at the steaming pot. Did this thing really need to cook for so long?

Xiao Changning giggled behind her hand. "Brother-in-law, you’re hungry too, right?"

Xie Zheng ignored the annoying child, closing his eyes. "No."

Fan Changyu brought two sweet potatoes and buried them in the ashes. Xie Zheng remained seated on the stool behind the stove—since his legs were still healing, she didn’t make him move. Instead, she crouched beside him, using fire tongs to cover the potatoes with embers.

The stove’s opening was narrow and square, blocking her view, so she leaned slightly toward him to check if the potatoes were properly buried.

The proximity made Xie Zheng frown and lean back, but the space was too cramped. The edge of Fan Changyu’s hairpiece barely brushed his jaw. She didn’t notice, but Xie Zheng’s expression stiffened.She had already changed out of her butchering clothes, and there was an indescribable, delicate fragrance on her garments and in her hair—likely the scent her mother had personally blended, as she had mentioned before.

Where her hair had brushed against him, there was a slight coolness and a tingling itch that made one want to scratch it.

Xie Zheng frowned and was about to speak when Fan Changyu had already finished burying the sweet potatoes and moved back.

Seeing him shift aside, Fan Changyu felt quite embarrassed. "Did I bump into you just now?"

The spot on his jaw where her hair had grazed still tingled.

Xie Zheng averted his gaze and simply said no.

Snow began to fall again from the sky. Fan Changyu sat on a stool playing cat's cradle with her younger sister. The firelight reflected on their faces, and their smiles—so alike—seemed capable of melting away the chill of the entire winter night.

Xie Zheng watched her for a while before turning his gaze to the snowflakes drifting through the air.

When a sweet aroma mingled with the scent of meat, Fan Changyu once again squeezed right next to Xie Zheng and used the fire tongs to dig out two sweet potatoes.

The skins of the sweet potatoes had turned a charred gray, soft and piping hot to the touch.

Fan Changyu gave one to Xie Zheng while she and her sister shared the other.

Fan Changyu was bold—she split the sweet potato in half with a swift motion, revealing the golden flesh inside, steam rising in delicate wisps from the tips. Just the smell alone was enough to tell how sweet it was.

She gave half to her sister, and the two of them ate while hissing from the heat. The taste was even sweeter, though they accidentally smeared a bit of the charred skin on the corners of their mouths.

Xie Zheng peeled his sweet potato and took a bite. It was indeed much sweeter than the roasted sweet potatoes he remembered.

The highlight of the evening, of course, was the meat that had been braising for over an hour in the pot. The pork belly, already infused with the rich flavors of the braising sauce, was diced and stir-fried with diced mushrooms until the aroma of the mushrooms burst forth. Then, a ladle of the braising broth was added before the mixture was scooped over a bowl of white rice, topped with a halved braised egg.

It was the most satisfying meal Xie Zheng had eaten since his misfortune began, and his mood remained quite pleasant even as he prepared to sleep that night.

Of course, his good mood might have lasted a little longer if the Gyrfalcon hadn’t suddenly started screeching desperately from the rooftop.