The stall owner glanced at her.
Seeing that she was a woman, he said,
“Offal set—with heart, liver, lungs, stomach, and intestines—sixty coins. A pig’s head is thirty coins. Pig’s feet: the front ones are eight coins each, the back ones ten. How many do you want?”
Compared with the price she sold to the restaurant, the raw ingredients were indeed much cheaper.
Li Lanxiang already had a rough idea and began bargaining.
“Boss, I’ll take more. Two sets of offal, two pig heads, and eight pig’s feet—half front, half back. Give me a better price.”
After some back-and-forth haggling, they finally settled on one hundred and fifty coins for two sets of offal, two pig heads, and eight pig’s feet.
Seeing that she bought so much, the stall owner even helped tidy them up a bit and tied everything together with straw rope.
Looking at the pile of “raw materials” on the cart, still carrying a strong fishy smell, Wang Dashan finally couldn’t help asking,
“Going to make braised meat to sell again?”
Li Lanxiang put away the newly earned copper coins along with the rest of the money. Only after sitting down on the cart did she softly respond,
“Mhm. I’ll make some for the family first… and the rest… we’ll see.”
She didn’t say everything outright, but her eyes sparkled with thoughtful calculation.
On the way back, the setting sun stretched their shadows long across the road.
One side of the cart held empty bamboo baskets; the other was piled with fresh pig offal, heads, and feet.
Leaning against the side of the cart, Li Lanxiang felt the weight of the copper coins in her arms while quietly planning what to do next.
Wang Dashan drove the cart silently, occasionally glancing back at Li Lanxiang, who had closed her eyes to rest.
The autumn wind lifted a few loose strands of hair from her forehead. Her face showed fatigue, yet there was also a look of quiet determination.
The wife who once only knew how to bury herself in hard work and stretch every single coin now seemed to have opened a pair of new eyes—seeing a farther road ahead and finding a steadier way for this family to move forward.
He still asked nothing. Instead, he took off his outer coat and gently draped it over her.
Li Lanxiang opened her eyes, glanced at him, and said nothing. She simply pulled the coat up a little higher and closed her eyes again.
But at the corner of her lips, a faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared.
..
When the afterglow of the sunset painted the small courtyard in warm golden light, the cart creaked to a stop at the gate.
Hearing the noise, Wang Shizhu ran out first and helped unload the pile of pig offal, heads, and feet from the cart, all still smelling strongly.
“Mother, you bought so much again?”
Shizhu clicked his tongue while looking at the two huge pig heads and the heap of intestines and stomach.
“Mm. Tonight we’ll eat something good first.”
Li Lanxiang stepped down from the cart with the empty bamboo basket. Though her face showed a trace of tiredness, her eyes were bright.
She first went to the kitchen to check the leftover master broth from the braised meat. Fortunately, it hadn’t spoiled.
Then she temporarily placed the newly bought offal, heads, and feet in a cool, ventilated spot.
For dinner, Li Lanxiang didn’t prepare anything overly elaborate.
She picked out one pig liver from what she had bought today and sliced it thinly. After repeatedly rinsing it in clean water to remove the blood, she drained it and mixed it with a bit of salt, soy sauce, and some wild fruit wine she had brewed at home. Then she added a little of her homemade fern-root starch and mixed everything evenly to marinate.
The wok was heated, lard added.
Once the oil was hot, she sautéed minced ginger, garlic, and chopped wild scallions until fragrant, then quickly slid the marinated slices of liver into the wok.
The moment the liver hit the hot oil, its color changed quickly—from dark red to a pale brownish pink.
Her movements were swift. She poured in a small amount of soy sauce and vinegar, then sprinkled in a handful of bright green scallion leaves. After a few quick tosses, she immediately removed it from the wok.
A plate of stir-fried pork liver—glossy with oil, tender and smooth, the rich aroma of sauce rising from it—was dotted with vibrant green scallions. Just looking at it made one’s appetite stir.
She also steamed a separate bowl of soft yellow egg custard for Liu Xinghua, adding two drops of sesame oil and sprinkling a little scallion on top.
Stir-fried cabbage was indispensable—fresh and crisp.
The staple food was a pot of white rice that had been cooked earlier at noon. Each grain was crystal clear, giving off the pure fragrance of grain.
When the dishes were placed on the table, the same dim yet warm oil lamp lit the scene.
The salty, savory tenderness of the pork liver, the silky smoothness of the steamed egg custard, the crisp freshness of the cabbage, paired with fragrant white rice—though not as stunning as last night’s braised pork and dumplings—were still genuinely delicious, leaving the stomach satisfied and the body comfortable.
Wang Shizhu shoveled rice into his mouth in big bites, eating the tender pork liver with it, humming in satisfaction.
Wang Tiezhu also ate quickly.
Liu Xinghua ate small bites of the egg custard and cabbage. The color in her face seemed a little better.
Wang Dashan remained silent, but his chopsticks moved steadily. He especially favored the plate of stir-fried pork liver—the heat had been controlled perfectly, leaving the liver tender rather than tough, and the flavor suited his taste well.
The meal ended quietly in an atmosphere of contentment.
..
While clearing the bowls and chopsticks, Li Lanxiang said to Wang Dashan and the two sons,
“After eating, take a short rest, then clean the two sets of intestines and stomachs we bought today the same way as yesterday. Use plant ash and bran and scrub them carefully. We’ll need them tomorrow.”
When Wang Shizhu heard he had to wash those troublesome things again, his face drooped for a moment. But remembering the delicious pork feast last night and the stir-fried liver his mother made today, he felt washing intestines might not be so unbearable after all, so he obediently agreed.
Li Lanxiang didn’t pay them any further attention.
She boiled some hot water and carefully washed up.
The warm water washed away the fatigue of the day and the smell of smoke and grease clinging to her body. After changing into a clean old inner garment, she felt much more relaxed.
Instead of sitting in the main hall like usual or checking the kitchen fire, she went straight back to the room she shared with Wang Dashan.
The room was already dark. She didn’t light a lamp, but simply felt her way onto the heated brick bed, leaned against the wall, hugged the quilt, and sat quietly.
The moonlight outside the window was faint, barely outlining the vague shapes of the furniture in the room.
From the courtyard came the faint sounds of Wang Dashan and his sons talking quietly while washing things, along with the water splashing as they scrubbed. There was also Liu Xinghua softly humming to lull the child to sleep.
All these sounds felt both familiar and unfamiliar.
Familiar—because it was the ordinary rhythm of a rural night.
Unfamiliar—because of herself.
In the past few days since transmigrating here, she had been like a string suddenly pulled taut. Relying on more than seventy years of experience from her previous life and the body’s instinctive memories, she had forced herself to deal with everything:
Getting familiar with the environment, treating her injuries, arranging household matters, and trying to make changes…
From insisting on slaughtering the pig and rendering lard, to making fine salt by herself, to cooking braised pork and dumplings, and even taking the risk today to sell braised meat to the restaurant and buying new ingredients to continue…
Every step was both a test and an effort.
Testing the acceptance of this family. Testing the possibilities of this era.
Trying to make life a little better. Trying to live this “second life” with more confidence.
Her body was tired, yet her mind remained in a strange state of excitement and vigilance.
She needed a little time—time alone—to digest everything and calm the surging waves deep in her heart, the turbulence at the meeting point of two souls.
She didn’t know whether Wang Dashan had noticed anything. His deep, unreadable gaze sometimes made her uneasy.
But at least for now, he had chosen silence and acceptance.
That reassured her somewhat and gave her more confidence to keep moving forward.