The night patrol had continued in shifts until early morning. After breakfast, its members gathered again to discuss the next steps. Because so many people from different households had taken part, news of their success the previous night had already spread throughout the village.
Several people had seen the two huge, black-maned beasts being transported to a neighboring village for slaughter. Even those who had initially been skeptical could no longer doubt the story.
Villagers began gathering around the patrolmen, eager to hear what they were discussing.
“Two wild boars. One weighed more than two hundred jin, the other nearly three hundred. We discarded the organs and bones that weren’t worth much, and different cuts sold for different prices. After deducting the butcher’s fee and the portion He Yi’s family requested, the final proceeds were twelve taels of silver and five hundred and twenty wen. There were forty-nine of us on the night patrol, so each person gets…”
Everyone held their breath, waiting to hear how much the share would be.
Then the man keeping the accounts stepped forward to announce the result. Each person would receive a remarkable two hundred and fifty-five wen!
The crowd erupted in delighted exclamations. Good heavens! That was more than ten days’ wages for many laborers, or more than half a month’s household expenses for some families, earned in a single night.
Laughter and cheerful voices filled the space beneath the banyan tree. Those who could move quickly hurried home to share the good news.
But the joyous mood did not reach Geng Tao’s household. Half a quarter-hour later, someone reported to the night patrol that Geng Tao was wailing in his own field.
When the villagers arrived, they saw a woman attempting to console a man who was howling without the slightest regard for appearances. Behind her huddled several children dressed in rags, their faces and bodies filthy. Terrified by the man, they clung helplessly to the hem of her clothes.
The children were the first to notice the approaching crowd and shrank back in fright. The man then saw the newcomers as well and began wailing even louder.
“The boars were caught in my field, but those heartless people refuse to give me any money! They were my wild boars! They sold them without even asking us! Isn’t that bullying our family? Our fields have been wrecked, and we haven’t received a scrap of compensation!”
The speaker was Geng Tao. The woman beside him was his wife, Mu-niang, and the little children were all members of the Geng family.
This attempt to turn blame back on everyone else infuriated the patrolmen. Several hotheaded men immediately stepped forward to confront him.
“How can you say that? Didn’t we ask you to join the patrol yesterday? Your family wouldn’t lift a finger, and now that there’s money to share, you’re jealous! Have you no shame?”
“He Yi’s family caught those boars and saved your life! We arrived late last night, but we all heard you shouting for help. Didn’t we?”
“Yes! Clear as day! If you were capable of dealing with the boars yourself, would anyone else have had a chance to share your windfall? Hah!”
“We didn’t eat your crops! If you want compensation, go ask the boars! Nobody complained when you refused to patrol, Geng, but you certainly know how to calculate a profit for yourself!”
Geng Tao had expected someone to take his side. He had heard that the two young men had kept the largest portion of the meat, and assumed some villagers must be unhappy. If he could win them over, perhaps the money would be divided again. Instead, no one supported him, and he was subjected to a merciless round of scolding.
He had his reasons for refusing the patrol. Why should he risk his life protecting other people’s land? But he worried that the patrolmen would not watch over his fields, so he had gone to inspect them himself during the night. By a stroke of appalling luck, his land had been the very plot the boars attacked.
Learning that the patrolmen were each getting over two hundred and fifty wen made him angrier still. He bitterly regretted missing such an easy opportunity and could think of nothing but how he should have joined the patrol yesterday.
In a fit of spite, he abandoned all shame and grabbed two of his children as though to beat them. “If they won’t compensate us, how am I supposed to feed these little brats? I’ll beat you to death! I can’t afford it, truly can’t! Don’t blame your father. Blame those people! They’re driving our family to ruin!”
Mu-niang immediately threw herself between him and the children. In truth, Geng Tao was not hitting very hard. He was putting on a performance and kept signaling to Mu-niang with his eyes. But his wife was softhearted, and his words had pierced her deepest fears. Her eyes were full of tears, leaving everything blurred, so she never noticed his signals.
The villagers could not bear the sight. A crowd surged forward; some grabbed Geng Tao and others stood protectively before Mu-niang and the children. The scene became thoroughly chaotic.
Geng Tao’s arms were wrenched painfully, and some people took the chance to kick him. He was already weak, and could not withstand so many people pushing and shoving him. He fell to the ground amid the confusion and began begging for mercy.
Only then did the farce end.
He Yi had not been there. He had gone to work in the fields, leaving Xue Ci to help oversee the patrol arrangements. It was only afterward, when Xue Ci told him the story, that he learned how much had happened.
“When we saw that he’d twisted his ankle, we carried him home. Then we heard coughing coming from inside. I think the elderly people in his household are bedridden,” Xue Ci continued.
Mu-niang had been mortified in front of everyone. Xue Ci, meanwhile, felt sorry for the children and suggested to Zheng Yuanfeng that perhaps they should give the family some rice or grain as compensation.
Other villagers overheard Xue Ci, and someone proposed that every household contribute a little rice or grain. Everyone could see how badly off the Geng family was. They were genuinely close to having no food to cook. Once people considered it, most agreed to help.
Mu-niang was overwhelmed with shame and gratitude. She cried so hard that she could scarcely get a complete word out while bowing her thanks. Seeing their mother crying, the children began crying too, nearly sobbing themselves hoarse. The sight was heartbreaking.
“Brother Yuanfeng went and told that man not to hit his children again. If he did, nobody would ever give his family grain. He mustn’t trample the villagers’ goodwill, and he’d better conduct himself properly from now on.”
“And how did he react?” He Yi was curious.
“He knelt and kept kowtowing, saying he’d been out of his mind and would never dare do it again.”
He Yi offered no judgment. Resting his cheek against his right hand, with his elbow on the table, he looked into the distance.
A great many thoughts crossed his mind. In the end, he decided against speaking ill of someone behind their back. He merely said, “Then take a few extra jin of rice to them later. Our household may not have an abundance of everything, but we do have plenty of rice. Let’s help where we can.”
Xue Ci nodded. “Mm!”
Some particularly superstitious elders learned that two wild boars had been killed during the night patrol without a single casualty. They sent younger relatives to He Yi’s house with food and drink: flatbreads, steamed buns, vegetables, wild fruit, and all sorts of gifts, practically treating the pair as beings to be worshipped.
The attention left He Yi bewildered. Merely refusing the gifts took a considerable time. Fortunately he insisted on accepting nothing, and the visitors eventually gave up for fear of offending them.
“Why wouldn’t you take them?” Xue Ci asked. He instinctively felt that the gifts should not be accepted, yet could not have explained why.
“Haven’t we already received our reward? Come, I’ll make something delicious for you later.” He Yi gestured for Xue Ci to follow him and headed into the kitchen.
He planned to make braised pig trotters. A few days earlier, his older cousin Xu Peng had decided that the camphor-tea duck recipe He Yi had shared was far too valuable for him to accept without repayment. So he had come down from the mountains and given He Yi a recipe for master-braising stock.
The characters on the paper were written with strong, vigorous brushstrokes in an ancient, restrained style. He Yi studied them for a long time and grew increasingly envious. Unfortunately, Xu Peng had not said who wrote them. He Yi hoped he might someday meet the calligrapher.
When He Yi showed Xue Ci the recipe, he too was captivated at once by the calligraphy. He held the paper in his hands and gazed at it for a long while.
Seeing that Xue Ci would not put it down, He Yi asked him to read out the ingredients while he handled the knife work.
They had the brine recipe and the spices Xu Peng had provided: star anise, cinnamon, black cardamom, bay leaves, and galangal. They also had Sichuan peppercorns and yellow wine obtained from Tang Huai, as well as He Yi’s own aged rock sugar, fish sauce, ginger, scallions, and other seasonings. He Yi thought that even a rag would taste good if cooked in that mixture.
He had never removed the hair from trotters before. Auntie Liu advised heating an iron pan, pressing the trotters against it repeatedly to singe the hairs, then scraping off the burned stubble.
He Yi tried it. The pigskin came out patchy and unevenly darkened, hardly attractive, but at least most of the hair was gone. For the remainder, he asked Xue Ci to help. With precise control of icy energy, Xue Ci plucked the hairs out one by one.
After blanching the trotters and skimming away the scum, they added seasonings, rubbed them in, and let the meat marinate. Half a shichen later, they resumed cooking.
The kitchen grew darker. Xue Ci went to light an oil lamp while He Yi arranged the trotters in a clay casserole, added the elaborate mixture of spices and water, and began stewing them. He did not seal the lid, leaving it only loosely covering the pot.
After more than half a shichen of stewing, He Yi added the last seasonings, salt and fish sauce. When the liquid had reduced, the dish was finally done.
Braised trotters were not particularly complicated to cook. Most of the trouble lay in preparing the ingredients. He Yi managed the later stages easily enough and sent Xue Ci to practice writing instead of helping.
But once the aroma reached Xue Ci, he became so excited that he abandoned his characters and sneaked back to the kitchen to sniff at the pot.
He Yi pretended not to notice and called loudly, “Dinner! Ci’er, stop writing and come get a bowl of rice.”
Xue Ci waited a little while before entering, then volunteered to carry out the pot of braised trotters.
“Be careful. It’s hot.” He Yi turned to fill their bowls with white rice.
A moment later, in the main hall.
The evening winds had begun to lose their summer heat and were regaining the slight chill of spring nights. Autumn was quietly arriving.
He Yi had worried that the trotters might turn out too strongly flavored, but his concerns dissolved the moment he tasted them.
The braising liquid had penetrated the meat beautifully. His cousin’s recipe really was excellent. The dish tasted rather like the braised sheep offal He Yi had tried before.
The trotters had stewed until soft and tender, with a rich, vivid color. Xue Ci had been longing for a taste since he smelled them, but now that he saw the fatty meat, he hesitated. He had never eaten trotters before. Without He Yi’s assurances that they would be delicious, he would never have wanted to try them.
Wild boar was not normally part of a snow leopard’s diet, so Xue Ci did not have much natural desire for its meat. But he trusted He Yi’s cooking almost blindly and adored everything He Yi made.
At last Xue Ci picked up his chopsticks and imitated He Yi, sticking them into a piece of trotter meat before lifting it up whole and taking a great bite.
Within moments, his bowl was empty.
“It’s so soft! And the flavor’s so rich! Mm, what’s the word… it’s really fragrant!” Xue Ci practically wanted to scratch his head, struggling to describe how amazed he felt. He had not learned enough words to express it precisely and was left speechless.
“It certainly is.” The sauce was perfect with rice. The many spices and seasonings produced a complex, richly layered flavor. Had Xue Ci been likely to leave any behind, He Yi would have saved some to mix with rice another day.
He Yi ate only two bowls of rice and was full. He had not been doing much physical labor lately and could not eat more. Xue Ci finished all the remaining rice. Fortunately He Yi had steamed plenty, or there would not have been enough for him.
“I’m full too.” Xue Ci washed his mouth and hands. Toward the end of the meal, he had eaten the trotters directly with his hands and gotten sauce all over his fingers.
“Let’s walk by the river later.” The fireflies would soon be gone, and He Yi wanted to see them again.
“All right.” Xue Ci deliberately brushed his damp hand against He Yi’s arm. He stopped fooling around only when He Yi gently caught his hand. After a short rest, they began clearing the dishes.
*
When the autumn wind rose, households began making cured sausages.
He Yi had set aside some of the wild boar for precisely this purpose. After consulting several aunties, he wrote down the procedure for making sausages.
He chose a crisp, clear autumn day and began stuffing sausages in the courtyard with Xue Ci.
The sheep intestines they had soaked overnight would serve as the sausage casings.
He Yi selected ten jin of wild boar meat, maintaining a ratio of three parts fat to seven parts lean. He cut the lean meat into slices and the fat into cubes, seasoned it with salt, sugar, and soy sauce, and left it to marinate for over one shichen. Once mixed, the meat was ready for stuffing.
He showed Xue Ci how to work the meat into the casings. “Push it in from here, then squeeze it slowly forward. Yes, keep going until the casing is full…”
“Like this?”
“Right. Keep pushing it all the way down and filling it.”
Xue Ci worked with great care, afraid of splitting the delicate intestine. He drew little breaths through his mouth as he concentrated, and only let out a long sigh when everything was stuffed.
His nervous expression made He Yi laugh. He tied the ends of the casings, made another knot every six cun, then handed Xue Ci a bamboo skewer sharpened to a point. “Here. Prick little holes to let the air out.”
“Won’t it leak?” Xue Ci looked incredulous.
“No. Pricking it is what keeps the casing from bursting. Go ahead.” He Yi smiled.
They briefly dipped the stuffed, pierced sausages into hot water, then hung them from ropes stretched beneath the covered walkway to dry.
In another ten days or so, the cured sausages would be ready.
He Yi and Xue Ci looked up at the strings of deep-red sausages hanging along the veranda. A feeling of satisfaction and security rose in both their hearts.
Now they need not fear going without meat during winter.