The faint smell of meat had indeed attracted a swarm of “flies” far more troublesome than Lai Ergou.
The sun had climbed to its highest point.
In the yard of the dilapidated thatched house, the broken iron pot with a missing corner was set on a makeshift stove made of stacked stones. Firewood crackled beneath it.
Inside the pot, water was boiling and bubbling. The wild chicken had already been chopped into pieces by the eldest sister, Chen Yinuo, and was tumbling in the rolling water, releasing a layer of golden oil.
“Little Six… what is this?” Chen Yinuo sniffed the air and looked at the handful of crushed “dried seeds” in Chen Zui’s hand in surprise.
They were star anise and Sichuan peppercorns taken from Chen Zui’s spatial storage. She claimed she had picked them randomly in the forest.
“Wild fruits from the mountains. They smelled good, so I tossed them in,” Chen Zui said, standing on tiptoe as she sprinkled the crushed bits into the pot.
What had originally been simple meat aroma was instantly transformed the moment these modern spices entered the water. A rich, layered fragrance exploded outward as if it had come alive, seeping through the cracked walls in all directions.
Not just the Chen household—anyone in the village who caught a whiff would be dizzy with craving even if they had just eaten.
Chen Laosan sat on the doorstep weaving a fence, his throat bobbing uncontrollably as the smell hit him. The bamboo strips in his hands nearly slipped.
“So fragrant…” Second Sister Chen Erxiu squatted by the stove, eyes red from smoke, swallowing her saliva nonstop.
Just as the family eagerly waited to eat—
Bang!
The rickety gate fence was kicked violently from outside, shaking violently.
“So it’s true! I wondered how your third branch suddenly got so bold—turns out you stole a chicken from the family!”
A sharp, piercing curse stabbed into the warm aroma like a rusted nail.
Aunt Zhang, the eldest uncle’s wife, stood outside the fence with Chen Dabao, who was drooling uncontrollably. They looked like two hyenas that had smelled blood, staring straight at the steaming pot in the yard.
Aunt Zhang’s knee, still swollen from being kicked by Chen Zui yesterday, was limping—but the smell of meat made her forget all pain.
“Third brother! You ungrateful wolf! When we split the family you cried poverty, and now you’re secretly eating meat here! That wild chicken must’ve been caught by your eldest brother—it’s ours!”
Chen Laosan suddenly stood up, face flushed. Years of suppression made him instinctively try to explain.
“Sister-in-law, this… this was picked up by Little Six, it’s not—”
“Spare me! Picked up? It’s a wild chicken—does it have your name on it? Whoever sees it gets a share!” Chen Dabao shouted greedily. He lifted his foot, ready to climb over the half-height fence. “Mom, stop talking, I’m taking the pot!”
Seeing those twisted, greedy faces, Chen Laosan stiffened. He looked at his second daughter, frightened and shrinking back, then at his eldest daughter serving the first bowl of soup. His feet rooted to the ground. He didn’t move. He didn’t dare stop them.
Thirty years of suppression had carved fear into his bones.
“I dare see who comes in!”
A sharp shout rang out.
Li Shi rushed out from the house.
This woman, usually too timid to speak loudly, now held a worn-out broom tightly in both hands, blocking the stove. Her face was pale, her body trembling, but her eyes were burning with fire.
“This was my daughter’s life-risking food! Whoever dares take it, I’ll fight them to the death!”
Aunt Zhang’s anger flared when she saw Li Shi daring to resist.
“You’ve gone mad!” she yelled, rolling up her sleeves. “Today this meat belongs to our main branch! Not only will I eat it, I’ll smash your pot too!”
Chen Laosan clenched his fists, veins bulging. He was about to rush forward—
But a small figure moved faster than him.
Chen Zui stepped forward holding a coarse ceramic bowl.
Inside was not chicken soup, but boiling water used earlier to scald the chicken feathers. A few stray feathers floated on the surface, steam still rising.
Without a word, she walked to Li Shi’s side and faced Chen Dabao, who was already stepping over the fence.
No hesitation.
She flipped her wrist.
Splash!
A full bowl of scalding water flew straight out.
“AAAHHH—!!!”
A pig-like scream tore through the air.
The boiling water hit Chen Dabao squarely in the face. His fat cheeks instantly turned red as he rolled on the ground, screaming in agony.
“My son!” Aunt Zhang panicked and rushed forward, only to jerk her hand back from the heat.
Before she could react, Chen Zui had already thrown the empty bowl to the ground.
CRACK!
The sharp sound of porcelain breaking echoed.
She bent down and picked up the same wrist-thick hardwood branch she had broken yesterday in the mountains.
Standing at the broken gap in the fence, her small three-year-old body looked like a gate-guarding demon.
She tilted her head, staring at Aunt Zhang who was still trying to make a scene. Her eyes were completely devoid of warmth.
“Auntie… is the water hot?”
Her voice was soft, but it made Aunt Zhang’s crying stop instantly.
Aunt Zhang looked up and met those dark, bottomless eyes. The fear from yesterday—being kicked and nearly crippled—rushed back all at once.
“I think you’ve already forgotten yesterday’s pain.”
Chen Zui lightly tapped the wooden stick against her palm.
Thud. Thud.
She stepped forward.
Aunt Zhang instinctively dragged Chen Dabao backward.
“Want meat?” Chen Zui said calmly.
“Fine.”
She pointed at the wooden stick at her feet, a cold smile curling on her lips.
“Either get out now… or leave your legs here as firewood.”
“Pick one.”