The Story of a Young Man Who Traveled Through Time and Space to Farm

Chapter 14

Finally, Zhang Wuliang's pig-killing feast was scheduled for the third day of the twelfth lunar month seven days later. Because Uncle Zhang's family scheduled it for the twenty-ninth day of the winter lunar month.

On the morning of the twenty-ninth day, Zhang Wuliang's family finished their meal early and went to Uncle Zhang's house to help.

Aunt Zhao and Chen Xiaonian were busy in the kitchen, and Zhang Wuliang was helping to drive the pigs in front. A group of people walked into the pigsty in a mighty manner. The fat old sows raised in the pen probably felt the coming of death, and made miserable cries, unwilling to come out.

Fortunately, the butcher was very experienced. He directed several big men to grab the feet and ears and successfully pulled the sow out of the pigsty, tied up the limbs and moved it to the chopping board. The butcher raised his knife and a large amount of pig blood gushed out, and finally fell into the basin under the chopping board.

Zhang Wuliang listened to the pig's screams gradually getting smaller, and finally hummed unwillingly. His scalp was a little numb, and the faces of the people around him were a little bit unbearable. Only the pig butcher was used to it. He calmly waited until the pig was dead, then had someone carry the pig into a bucket filled with hot water and start scraping its hair.

When the cleanly shaved pig was hung on the wooden rack, everyone's faces became better, and they began to be full of expectations and happiness. They stood by and watched the butcher butcher the pig.

Generally, people would make an appointment with others to buy the meat before butchering the pig. After butchering the pig, they would leave the pig hair, pancreas, and small intestine for the butcher to take away later, and then weigh the meat reserved by others.

However, Uncle Zhang's family did not plan to buy the New Year pig. So a group of people moved the butchered pork to the kitchen, and asked a group of women to prepare the pig-killing banquet. A group of men were chatting outside while smelling the meat. Children were running around in the yard, and they would run to the kitchen to see how the meal was cooked.

Zhang Wuliang sat in the front and listened to a group of men, chatting about everything under the sun, and occasionally expressed his own opinions. He had married this year and was an adult, so it was appropriate for him to join their conversation.

Suddenly, the topic turned to Zhang Wuliang. A young man who looked strong and sturdy asked Zhang Wuliang, "Liangzi, I heard that you made the tofu your mother sent to my house a few days ago?"

Zhang Wuliang thought about it. This man seemed to be the son of Aunt Cuihua whom he met on the road when he came back from collecting firewood. What was his name?

"Yes, I just tried it myself. I didn't expect it to be successful. Did you eat it, brother Dazhuang? How does it taste?"

"Not bad, not bad," Zhang Dazhuang laughed, "It tastes like tofu."

The people next to him laughed, "If this tofu doesn't taste like tofu, how can it taste like pork?"

"Hehe," Zhang Dazhuang laughed along with them, then looked at Zhang Wuliang and said, "Liangzi, I have some soybeans at home and I want you to help make tofu, okay?"

"Ah?" Zhang Wuliang didn't react.

Zhang Dazhuang said again: "I won't let you do it for nothing, just charge as much as you deserve."

When Zhang Wuliang heard this, he waved his hands repeatedly: "Brother Dazhuang, what are you talking about? It's only right for fellow villagers to help, but I don't know how much your family wants to make?