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32

Chapter 32: Smoked Meat

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Xue Dongting tilted her head. “What does that have to do with you? It’s he who wanted to drink. Did Old Zhang’s wife blame you?”

Song Yuming smiled helplessly. “Doesn’t matter who wanted to drink. Old Zhang is henpecked as hell. He probably blamed it on me as an excuse. Since then, his wife gives me a bad look every time she sees me.”

Xue Dongting couldn’t help but snicker. “That Old Zhang is really cute. It’s normal for a man his age to get drunk, but you’re in the prime of your life, you shouldn’t do that.”

Song Yuming looked on helplessly at her gloating and smiled. “What’s this, my own wife taking their side?”

She laughed but was silent. She hefted the slab of smoked meat and cut off a hunk and washed it off, then dropped it into a pot to cook.

Song Yuming let it go when she didn’t add any onions or ginger, but he had to speak up when she didn’t even add any salt. Xue Dongting smiled and shook her head. “This smoked meat should just be cooked directly. It’s already seasoned, no need to add anything else.”

He knew she knew what she was talking about so he let the matter drop. Smiling, he said, “That day we went to see Madame Qiao, all the food was excellent. Seems she taught you well.”

She shook her head. “I’m no match for Mama Qiao. Stop kissing up.”

Song Yuming smiled. “That’s not how I kiss up to a woman.”

She gave him a look. “You’re experienced, eh?”

He knew he’d slipped up there. He smiled awkwardly and said no more.

Xue Dongting eyed him. “You had a lot of women in the past?”

“Mm”, Song Yuming said, not denying it.

She was unhappy to hear that. She bit her lip and said nothing. The oath she had swore to herself about him earlier vanished in an instant like smoke. She wanted to get angry, but she said nothing, just took a hemp cloth and wiped the stove clean over and over.

Song Yuming didn’t look at her but watched the flames under the stove. “From now on, there’s only you,” he said quietly. His voice was calm.

Xue Dongting paused her work, then continued scrubbing. She detected a hint of sadness in his words.

This man had had a glorious past. Could he really be content with living here?

The pot was steaming, the aroma of meat mingled with medicinal herbs wafting out. She lifted the lid and took out the hunk of cooked smoked pork. The meat was tender and the fat somewhat clear, obviously rich and not oily, lean and fragrant. It made Song Yuming’s mouth water at once.

Xue Dongting cut the chunk into even slices and piled them on a plate. She said to the fisherman, “Take this inside. Once it gets cold it won’t taste good.”

Song Yuming stood and clapped his hands and regarded the meat with a sigh. “No wonder Old Zhang said this would go great with wine. I haven’t even tasted it yet, and I’m already itching for a drink.”

She gave a thin smile. “Congee is ready, you can eat that with it. We don’t have wine.” She held out her hand. “The ferry money?”

He smiled helplessly and retrieved the money bag from his belt. He hefted it in his hand, then placed it in Dongting’s hand. “Honey, please take this.”

Xue Dongting clutched the money bag and the haze hanging over her heart was swept away. She beamed at the fisherman. “Go on, I’ll clean up here.”