Butcher Zhang was an honest man, highly efficient in his work.
Just after midday, a recruitment notice written in crooked large characters was posted on the ancient locust tree at the village entrance.
The content was simple and blunt:
The Huo family is recruiting laborers for land reclamation. Two meals a day are provided—millet porridge morning and evening, meat at noon, plus five copper coins per day.
In a famine year, this kind of offer was practically a pie falling from the sky.
But half an hour after the notice went up, the crowd gathered around it—three layers deep—yet not a single person dared to take it down.
People whispered to each other, their eyes constantly drifting toward the broken courtyard in the western part of the village.
“Who would dare go? That place is cursed!”
“Exactly. I heard Su Daqiang’s leg is still swollen like steamed bread. That cripple is vicious.”
“If we mess up the work and get chopped up and used as fertilizer, what then?”
Fear outweighed hunger.
Villagers swallowed their saliva, but their feet seemed rooted to the ground. No one dared take the first step.
Su Jinxiu sat in the courtyard, listening to the report brought back by Butcher Zhang, and she was not surprised.
In her hand was a palm fan, which she used to fan the large iron pot set at the courtyard gate.
The fire beneath the pot burned fiercely, and inside it simmered a full pot of braised pork.
This was not the casual stir-fry from yesterday.
This was Su Jinxiu going all out, using the same determination she once had when fighting for food in the medical school cafeteria.
Five-layer pork belly cut into two-finger-wide cubes, blanched to remove odor, then caramelized with rock sugar into a deep amber glaze. Finally, spices like star anise and cinnamon—exchanged at high cost through her system space—were added, and everything was slowly stewed over low heat.
The aroma had penetration power.
It did not behave like sound blocked by walls or light obstructed by objects. This rich, domineering scent—blending caramel sweetness with fatty richness—was like an invisible hand, gripping every passerby’s throat.
“Gulp.”
Someone swallowed loudly.
Then, one after another, swallowing sounds rose through the crowd.
Su Jinxiu lifted the lid.
In that instant, steam burst upward, carrying an even more intense meat fragrance, practically striking the villagers—who rarely saw oil in their lives—like a hammer to the skull.
Inside the pot, the meat glistened red and glossy, trembling slightly. Each piece was coated in thick sauce, fatty but not greasy, lean but not dry.
“No one coming?” Su Jinxiu tapped the iron ladle against the pot’s edge twice. “Fine. If no one works, I’ll feed this pot of meat to the dogs. We don’t even have dogs yet—catching a couple of wolf cubs from the back mountain wouldn’t be impossible either.”
The crowd stirred instantly.
Feed braised pork to dogs? What kind of wasteful woman was this?!
“I’ll go!”
Finally, a thin, black-faced man squeezed out from the crowd.
He was a bachelor named Zhao Laosan. Alone, no family, starving enough to eat clay if necessary—what was there to fear about a “haunted house”?
“Lady Su, do you keep your word? Really giving out meat?” Zhao Laosan stared at the pot, his eyes practically green.
“Bring your bowl,” Su Jinxiu said without hesitation.
She took his chipped bowl and scooped a full ladle of meat, even adding broth over coarse rice.
Zhao Laosan didn’t care it was hot—he shoved it straight into his mouth.
The meat melted instantly, fat bursting across his tongue. The flavor was so overwhelming that tears nearly came out of his eyes.
The surrounding people were stunned.
She was really giving it out? And so much?!
In an instant, fear collapsed under the assault of braised pork.
“I’ll work too! I’m not afraid of death—I’m afraid of starving!”
“Count me in! I’ve got strength—I can carry two hundred jin of stone!”
Just as the recruitment scene was about to turn into a food抢抢抢 frenzy, Su Jinxiu smiled slightly, preparing to maintain order—
Suddenly, a sharp commotion erupted from the edge of the crowd.
“Move aside! Get out of the way! Are you blind?!”
A group of loafers pushed through.
Leading them was a thug known as Lai Pi Li, a distant nephew of Li the widower. Known for stealing chickens and dogs, idle and unruly.
He swaggered straight to the pot, not even looking at Su Jinxiu.
“Yo, this smells good! Brothers are hungry—we’ll taste it first!”
The others laughed.
“That’s right. They say this meat is for people. We’re people too—why can’t we eat it?”
A filthy hand, nails caked with dirt, reached straight toward the pot.
Su Jinxiu’s smile vanished instantly. Her iron ladle was about to swing when—
A sharp whooshing sound cut through the air.
Whoosh—
Bang!
A crisp crack, followed by the dull sound of bone breaking.
Lai Pi Li’s hand was struck violently backward as if hit by a hammer. A bloody hole appeared on the back of his hand, and a stone embedded itself into the flesh, nearly piercing through the bone.
“AHHH!!”
A pig-like scream echoed across the courtyard, forcing everyone to step back three paces.
In the shadow at the gate, Huo Chen sat in his wheelchair, casually rolling two walnut-sized stones between his fingers.
He didn’t even look up.
His eyes remained half-lowered, staring at Lai Pi Li writhing on the ground like he was already dead.
“Dirty.”
He only uttered one word.
But the coldness contained in that single word was even sharper than the autumn wind.
The hooligans who had been jeering a moment ago were instantly stunned by the sudden turn of events. They looked at their wailing boss on the ground, then at the man sitting in the wheelchair—clearly crippled, yet radiating an oppressive aura—and their legs began to tremble.
“Still want to taste the saltiness?” Su Jinxiu cooperated perfectly, tapping the iron ladle against the rim of the pot.
Clang—
The sound made them all flinch.
“N-no… we don’t…”
“Scram.”
Huo Chen rolled the stone in his hand once more, producing a grinding crackling sound.
As if granted amnesty, the group scrambled to drag the still-crying Rascal Li off the ground and fled in a panic.
This act of “killing the chicken to warn the monkeys” worked immediately.
The previously noisy crowd fell silent at once. Those with petty thoughts also became obedient. Only then did they remember—this was the ruthless man who had broken Su Daqiang’s leg. Eating meat was fine. Trying to take advantage? That was gambling with their lives.
“I only say the rules once.”
Su Jinxiu stood by the large pot, sweeping her gaze across the crowd. Her voice was clear and bright.
“You only eat if you work. Anyone who slacks off or tries to freeload—Rascal Li is your example. My husband has a bad temper, and his hand can slip. Please bear with it.”
“We wouldn’t dare!”
“Don’t worry, Madam Su! We’ll work hard!”
Everything after that went smoothly.
Su Jinxiu selected more than ten strong and honest laborers from the crowd. Each of them was first given a bowl of meat soup with rice to fill their stomachs, and then immediately sent to work.
That meal was heavenly.
People who hadn’t seen oil or meat in years suddenly felt strength flooding their bodies after a single bowl of soup.
As the “foreman,” Butcher Zhang worked especially hard. He swung his shovel and shouted loudly:
“Move faster! Madam Su said there’ll be meat buns for dinner! The best worker gets two extra!”
At that, the men were instantly energized like they’d been injected with blood. They worked so hard it seemed like they wanted to turn the entire rocky slope upside down.
As the sun set, the once overgrown wasteland had already been cleared into a small flat area.
Su Jinxiu stood with satisfaction, hands tucked into her sleeves, watching the bustling scene.
“Husband.”
She leaned toward Huo Chen, who was acting as a “human supervisor,” and lowered her voice.
“Thanks for earlier. That rascal Li’s hand is probably ruined.”
Huo Chen still casually played with the two stones, not even looking at her.
“Don’t overthink it. I just didn’t want that dirty hand ruining a pot of meat. Tonight I want braised pork.”
Su Jinxiu couldn’t help but laugh.
“Fine, fine. I’ll fatten you up until you’re round and white.”
Huo Chen’s hand paused slightly. He turned his head, a trace of helplessness flashing in his deep eyes.
This woman truly never spoke like a normal person.
But he had to admit—watching her command the crowd, watching her control this group of unruly people with nothing more than a pot of meat… it didn’t feel bad.
At least, she was a competent ally.
“Make more tonight,” Huo Chen said, looking toward the distant hillside where several workers were moving.
“I see a few newcomers—unsteady steps, shifty eyes. Probably planted spies. Feed them well. Only when they’re full will they have enough strength to suffer.”
Su Jinxiu’s gaze sharpened. Following his line of sight, a playful smile curled on her lips.
“Got it. I’m not afraid of nails. I’m only afraid they’re not hard enough to break my teeth.”