Chapter Sixteen: Steadfast

As dawn broke, the West Market was already bustling with people.

Zhang Dashan and his daughter set up their stall early in the morning. On the left side of the cutting board was Zhang Dashan's fresh pork stall, and on the right side was Zhang Xiaoyi's cold braised pork offal stall in earthenware pots.

Zhang Liuyi first helped her father set up the morning market.

Fresh pork is always more in demand.

Zhang Dashan's years of experience in the craft were not for nothing. He stood behind the chopping board, his back straight and his eyes sharp.

He would cut the customer's desired cut with swift, precise strokes, perfectly slicing the marbled front leg meat, the beautifully textured pork belly, and the lean rump tip into perfect pieces with his gleaming, thick-backed knife.

Zhang Liuli assisted his father, collecting money, handing out meat, and helping to hawk the food, but his eyes were fixed on his father's hand skills, trying to learn from him.

"Uncle Zhang, cut me one and a half pounds of this pork shoulder!"

A familiar restaurant purchasing agent called out.

"Okay!"

Zhang Dashan responded, lightly sliced ​​the meat with the tip of his knife, and with a deft flick of his wrist, sliced ​​off a piece of plum blossom meat that was evenly thick and perfectly shaped. He neatly tied it with a straw rope and handed it over.

The movements were fluid and clean.

When it came time to sell the remaining pig's head meat, Zhang Dashan showcased his exceptional skills.

He picked up half a pig's head, and with a few quick swipes, slices of pig's head meat, thin as cicada wings and translucent, were neatly arranged on oiled paper, drawing praise from the surrounding vendors.

"Butcher Zhang, your skill in preparing this piece of meat can't be mastered without ten or twenty years of practice!"

Zhang Dashan chuckled, a hint of barely perceptible smugness in his eyes.

"It's just a skill to make a living."

Zhang Liu watched from the sidelines, completely convinced and secretly amazed.

The skill and accuracy with which she used her hands were indeed beyond the reach of a novice like her.

With Zhang Yili's help and Zhang Dashan's excellent skills and reputation, most of the pork was quickly sold out, leaving only some precious hind leg meat and scraps, which would have to wait for discerning customers.

Only then did Zhang Dashan have a free hand to go and help out at his daughter's cold braised food stall.

The business of selling cold braised pork offal is obviously more difficult than that of selling fresh meat.

Although the business opened yesterday, the prejudice against pig offal is still deeply ingrained.

Zhang Liuyi called out from his stall: "Fragrant braised pork offal! It's flavorful when cooled, perfect with drinks or rice! Fifteen coins a pound! Clean and hygienic, washed three times with bean flour and alkaline water! Don't believe me? Try it! One bite is free!"

Most passersby glanced at the pottery jar briefly, shook their heads and walked away, or showed expressions of disgust.

Those who occasionally stop out of curiosity are mostly hesitant and undecided.

"This...is this really pig offal? It smells surprisingly good..."

"Boss, can I try a piece?"

"Please go ahead!"

Zhang Liuyi immediately responded, deftly using bamboo tongs to pick up a small piece of glistening braised pig heart or tender pig intestine, and handed it over, saying, "Try it, I guarantee it's clean and tasteless, only has the aroma of braising!"

Zhang Dashan quietly organized the stall in the back, cutting large pieces of braised offal into smaller, more palatable pieces to make it easier for customers to choose and also to give samples to people.

In just one morning, some returning customers from yesterday came to buy half a jin (250 grams) of the product, while new customers, attracted by the aroma and shouts, were surprised by the deliciousness of this "cheap" item and readily paid for it.

By noon, the earthenware pot full of braised pork offal that we had brought was almost empty.

Even the last bit of precious leg meat left on Zhang Dashan's cutting board was bought up by a wealthy family who was in a hurry to host a banquet.

After the father and daughter packed up their stall, Zhang Liuxin held the heavy wooden money box in his arms, which made a pleasant tinkling sound.

After a busy morning, I was starving.

"Come on, Yi-jie, let's go grab a bite to eat."

Zhang Dashan called to his daughter and pushed the wheelbarrow to a popular food stall area a little inside the West Market.

They stopped in front of a long-established stall and bought a few freshly baked, golden and crispy fried dough twists. They then went to the stall next door and ordered two bowls of piping hot tea soup made with roasted flour, salt, and sesame seeds.

The father and daughter sat down at a small table set up behind the stall, ready to dip their fried dough twists into the hot, salty tea soup and enjoy a delicious lunch.

As soon as Zhang Dashan broke open a fried dough twist, the heat and aroma of wheat wafted over him. With his sharp eyes, he immediately spotted a familiar, tall figure sitting at the stall across the street—it was Xiong Zixiang.

In front of him was a steaming bowl of shredded chicken noodles, and next to him sat a little boy of about eleven or twelve years old, wearing a worn gray cloth jacket, with a sallow and thin face, who was slurping down another bowl of vegetarian noodles.

"Sister Yi, look, isn't that Officer Xiong?"

Zhang Dashan nudged his daughter with his elbow.

Zhang Liuyi followed his father's gaze and indeed saw Xiong Zixiang.

He was naturally transferring most of the shredded chicken from his bowl into the little boy's bowl next to him.

The little boy looked up and waved his hand in a somewhat fearful manner, but was stopped by a look from Xiong Zixiang. He had no choice but to lower his head and continue eating, but he ate much slower, with gratitude in his eyes.

"Let's go over and say hello, and also thank them for their help yesterday."

As Zhang Dashan spoke, he picked up his bowl of tea noodles and fried dough twists. Zhang Yiguan also quickly picked up her bowl, and the father and daughter walked over to Xiong Zixiang's table.

"Captain Xiong, are you eating?"

Zhang Dashan greeted him with a smile.

Upon hearing the sound, Xiong Zixiang looked up and saw Zhang Dashan and his daughter. He quickly stood up to greet his elders.

"Uncle Zhang, keep an eye on the girl." His gaze swept over the fried dough twists and tea soup in their hands.

Seeing this, the little boy next to him immediately put down his chopsticks, stood up somewhat awkwardly, and said in a low voice, "Bear Head, I...I'm full. I'll go wait at the yamen gate first."

After saying that, without waiting for Xiong Zixiang's response, she darted into the crowd like a little rabbit and ran away.

"Huh? This child..."

Zhang looked at the child's thin back with some curiosity.

"Sit down," Xiong Zixiang said, pointing to the bench where the little boy had just been sitting.

Zhang Dashan and Zhang Liuyi sat down.

Zhang couldn't help but ask, "Brother Xiong, who was that child just now...?"

Xiong Zixiang picked up the bowl, took a sip of the noodle soup, and then spoke.

"The lowly servant in the county government office was named Zhang Xiaoshu. He had no parents and grew up following an old beggar behind the City God Temple. Last winter, the old beggar passed away, and he almost froze to death. The county magistrate was kind-hearted, so he took him in to run errands in the government office, paying him two coins a day and providing him with two full meals, so at least he had a place to stay."

"oh!"

Zhang Liuyi suddenly realized, and a feeling of sympathy welled up in her heart.

"This county magistrate... is actually a good man."

"Um."

Xiong Zixiang responded and picked up a mouthful of noodles.

"It's quite good. His surname is Zhou, and his name is Zhou Wenqing. He is a Jinshi (a successful candidate in the highest imperial examinations) and originally served as an official in the prefectural city. I heard that he offended his superior because he was too straightforward and was demoted to our Anping Town last year."

Zhang Dashan listened to his daughter and future son-in-law's conversation and initially thought it was quite good, as the topic seemed normal.

But as I listened, I felt like the topic was going a little off.

They talked about Zhang Xiaoshu, then about the county magistrate, then about being demoted... Is this something an engaged couple should talk about?

That's way too serious!

He quickly coughed to interrupt:

"Ahem! Um... Officer Xiong, we really owe you a debt of gratitude yesterday! If you hadn't tasted it and spoken up for me, Yi-jie's stall probably wouldn't have been able to open for business on its first day! My son and I really need to thank you properly!"

As Zhang Dashan spoke, he cupped his hands in a respectful gesture, his face filled with sincere gratitude.

Xiong Zixiang put down his chopsticks, looked at Zhang Dashan, and quickly cupped his hands in a respectful bow, lowering them slightly.

"Uncle Zhang, you flatter me. It was nothing. The braised food was indeed clean and tasted good. If anyone else had encountered unfair criticism, I would have tried it too and helped them out."

He spoke frankly, as if he were stating something perfectly natural.

Oh my! What a blockhead!

Zhang Dashan sighed inwardly.

This future son-in-law is a really good person, reliable and upright, but his personality... is just too rigid!

There's absolutely no sentimentality involved!

He glanced at his daughter furtively and saw that Zhang Liuli was looking at Xiong Zixiang with a faint smile on her lips and bright eyes. She didn't seem angry or disappointed.

"No matter what, I have to thank you!"

Zhang Liuyi took over the conversation, her voice clear and crisp.

"Brother Xiong, this bowl of shredded chicken noodles is on me!"

Before Xiong Zixiang could react, she stood up, walked over to the noodle stall owner, and deftly counted out a few coins to pay the bill.

Xiong Zixiang seemed to want to say something, but seeing Zhang Yixin had already paid and returned, he opened his mouth, but in the end only uttered two words: "...Thank you."

"Don't mention it!"

Zhang waved his hand dismissively, sat back on the bench, picked up his fried dough twist, dipped it in tea soup, and took a big, satisfying bite.

After a simple lunch, the three said their goodbyes.

Xiong Zixiang returned to the yamen to work, while Zhang Dashan and his daughter pushed a wheelbarrow, preparing to buy some things before going home.

They turned into a small alley next to Xishikou that specializes in selling farm tools and seeds.

The alley was lined with low shops, with hoes, sickles, winnowing baskets and hampers piled up at the entrances. The air was filled with the fresh scent of soil, straw ropes and grass seeds.

"Yi-jie, spring is here, we need to plant some vegetables. That way we won't have to spend money to buy them every day."

Zhang Dashan stopped in front of a seed stall, squatted down, and fiddled with the various vegetable seeds in small coarse cloth bags on the stall with his rough fingers.

"Yes, Father, you choose."

Zhang Yixin also squatted down.

Zhang Dashan was picking and choosing.

"We should plant some eggplants; they're delicious stir-fried. And some winter melons too; they're great for soups and stews, and they're filling…and some of this too!"

He picked up a small bag labeled "Chili Pepper".

"Dad! Do you want more chili peppers?"

Zhang Yili frowned.

"Isn't that dogwood spicy enough? Aren't you afraid of getting a sore throat?"

"The flavor of dogwood isn't strong enough!"

Zhang Dashan didn't take it seriously. He even picked up a few long, pointed dried chilies, smelled them, and showed a satisfied expression.

"I heard these chilies came from the south, they're really potent! Add some to stir-fries, they really enhance the flavor! They're also great with drinks! When your mother was alive, she always complained that I didn't have enough flavor when I ate dogwood..."

He suddenly stopped, and didn't continue speaking, but just silently clenched the bag of chili seeds.

Seeing his father's face darken instantly, Zhang felt a pang of sadness and stopped objecting.

In the end, the father and daughter bought eggplants, pumpkins, and a small bag of chili seeds.

The stall owner carefully tied three small packets of seeds together with dried, pliable cattail leaves and handed them over.

"Thank you for your kindness, forty coins."

The stall owner quoted a price.

Zhang Liuyi counted out forty copper coins from his money bag and handed them over.

Hearing the crisp clinking of the copper coins falling into the stall owner's hands, and looking at the few light packets of seeds in her arms, she couldn't help but sigh and mutter to herself.

"Money...it just won't go away. I barely earn a little, and it's all gone in the blink of an eye..."

Zhang Dashan took the seed packet, put it in his pocket, and patted his daughter on the shoulder.

"Money is a bastard, you can earn more after you spend it! What matters is planting, growing, and eating! Let's go home!"

He pushed the wheelbarrow, creaking and groaning as he walked ahead, the setting sun casting a long, broad shadow of him.

Zhang Liu watched his father's retreating figure, then touched the remaining copper coins in his pocket. His slight melancholy was quickly replaced by a sense of peace. Yes, the money was spent, but it bought seeds.

Isn't life just about living it out bit by bit, earning and spending?

She quickened her pace and caught up with her father's wheelbarrow; the figures of the father and daughter gradually blended into the twilight on their way home.