Chapter 6 Spicy Chicken Offal
There was the sound of shoes crunching on weeds, and the panting of a dog with its tongue lolling out.
Having stayed in this deserted village for a long time, Zhao Xuan's hearing became very sharp. Amidst the sounds of insects, birds, and wind, the sounds made by humans were very distinct—Lu An seemed to have brought back something, because she could also hear the sound of flapping wings.
When that familiar tall, thin figure came into view, she finally saw clearly that Lu An was carrying two chickens.
Two live chickens.
The two chickens' feet were tightly bound with straw several times, and they seemed to be exhausted. Even when Lu An held them upside down, they could only weakly flap their wings occasionally.
The 460 following behind him also seemed to have something hanging on its back. When he got closer, Zhao Xuan saw that it was carrying a dead chicken on its back as well. It had been tied up with long straw by Lu An and hung on its back. It hadn't fallen off despite the chicken jumping around.
Zhao Xuan was both amused and exasperated: "Where did this come from..." She looked at the chicken in Lu An's hand. It had a round body, gray-brown feathers, and strong, short claws. It seemed to be a breed that couldn't fly, or even... Zhao Xuan wasn't sure.
Some of them even resemble domestic chickens.
Lu An replied, "From the next village."
The so-called neighboring village is another village downstream from their village. The two villages are separated by a long slope. Lu Xuan had been there before. In addition to taking some usable daily necessities, she also recorded the fruit trees and crops there. She figured that although she didn't live there, the fruits produced there shouldn't go to waste.
These chickens probably escaped from a farm's chicken coop. After breeding for several years, they've developed some wildness and are quite afraid of people. Zhao Xuan and Lu An didn't see any chickens when they went to that village. They figured it was too cold in winter, and the chickens had all gone to hide in the mountains. But now that the weather is warmer and the vegetables and fruits in the deserted village are starting to grow, these chickens have started to quietly gather in small groups and forage for food on the edge of the village.
Lu An was looking for a table when he rode his tricycle into the village and happened to see this flock of chickens.
He and 460 had worked together to catch pheasants in the winter, which was very difficult and often resulted in several days of fruitless hunting. But for him and 460, catching these domestic chickens was far too easy.
Domestic chickens are, after all, domestic chickens. Even if they are domesticated by nature into a semi-wild chicken state, they still cannot resist the fervent love for millet in their genes.
Now that the rice seedlings have been planted, we can conserve the remaining food and raise a few animals to fill the gap in their meat supply. After finding the table, Lu An returned home and picked up a handful of millet on the way.
The capture went smoothly, but Lu An went a bit too far; one chicken died on the spot, and he only brought back two lively little hens.
The house they lived in didn't have a chicken coop, but the mud-walled house next door did. That house had a complete living area and kitchen, and a chicken coop and two pigsties in the backyard. Although they were quite old, they could be repaired and used. Lu An had reinforced the fence before leaving, so all he had to do now was sweep away the dust and lay down some straw. He put the two frightened hens into the coop and then scattered a handful of rice.
460, with bright, sparkling eyes, lay outside the chicken coop.
The remaining chicken was plucked and used as an extra meal for dinner.
There's no time to stew the chicken, but offal like chicken hearts and gizzards can be stir-fried quickly.
Before the apocalypse, Lu An had never killed a chicken. His mother was a very virtuous woman who never let Lu An into the kitchen. Back then, Lu An didn't even dare to kill fish because he disliked the sticky feeling on fish scales. But now, he is very skilled at killing chickens and fish.
He still didn't like the feeling of blood on his hands, but he knew that Zhao Xuan was even less adept at these things.
There are some things he knows Zhao Xuan is unwilling to do, so he will do them himself.
After rubbing the removed chicken innards with salt several times, the fishy smell will be reduced. Then, blanch them in boiling water with ginger slices and wine until they are half-cooked, and the fishy smell will be reduced by more than half.
As Lu An dealt with the chicken feathers, he watched Zhao Xuan carefully cut the chicken giblets into small pieces.
It was completely dark by then, so Zhao Xuan had to light a candle for illumination. She vaguely sensed someone looking at her, and when she glanced over, she met Lu An's gaze.
They all laughed involuntarily, but said nothing.
Life in this village was too peaceful; most of the time nothing new happened, and even the most talkative person couldn't come up with anything new to say. Sometimes they would talk very little, and for long periods of time they would go about their own business in silence.
But Zhao Xuan really liked this feeling.
Chicken giblets need to be stir-fried with ginger slices. Charcoal is burning in the small stove. The charcoal fire is not as strong as firewood, so she can stir-fry them slowly. A few chicken hearts, a few chicken livers, a few chicken gizzards, and a few pieces of chicken intestines will slowly release their oil. When they are fried until they are slightly golden on both sides and sizzling with oil, a little chili powder is added, and it becomes a delicious plate of spicy stir-fried chicken giblets.
A plate of spicy chicken giblets, a plate of stir-fried fresh bamboo shoots, and two bowls of rice—this time, the food wasn't just casually eaten sitting on the steps; it was placed on that stable little wooden square table.
Lu An is never a picky eater; he eats everything Zhao Xuan makes with relish.
The candlelight cast a hazy glow over everything, and all was quiet. Zhao Xuan suddenly felt a strange sense of belonging.
"Safe travels."
"Um?"
"That's great."
The man across from her, eating heartily, paused for a moment, then nodded, followed by a faint smile. He wasn't a serious person; after knowing him for a while, one might even find him quite naive. Yet, sometimes, Zhao Xuan couldn't understand why he smiled.
Just like when she first decided to stay in the village, he smiled and agreed.
Is he smiling because he agrees, or is he laughing at Zhao Xuan for being easily satisfied?
The dog, who was nestled on the large leather sofa with its eyes closed, heard their soft voices, lifted its eyelids to look, and realized that it wasn't Zhao Xuan feeding it. So it shifted its head, which was resting on its paws, and settled into a more comfortable position before falling asleep again.
For the next few weeks, the two of them plowed the seven acres of dry land they had planned and planted potatoes, corn and other crops. Zhao Xuan didn't know the exact planting time for these crops, and she wasn't even sure if the wheat they planted would survive. Her and Lu An's initial idea was that these coarse grains had a high yield, so if the rice harvest was not good, they wouldn't go hungry eating these for the following year.
But to everyone's delight, the rice is growing well.
The rice seedlings that have taken root are changing almost every day. Now they are a tender green, and the leaves have long covered the soil, looking like a fluffy blanket from a distance.
The myth of a thousand catties per mu is naturally impossible to appear in these few mu of fields without chemical fertilizers and pesticides. Zhao Xuan doesn't know how many catties of grain this rice, which depends on the weather, can produce through her own efforts, but she still takes it very seriously and goes to the field to weed the rice from time to time.
The lack of fertilizer troubled her for a while—the little bit of farmyard manure they produced each day certainly wasn't enough to irrigate all the fields, but since there was no other way, Zhao Xuan could only let it be.
After planting all the crops, the first busy farming season was finally over. During that time, Lu An went to the neighboring village a few more times and caught two live chickens. Now there are three hens and one rooster in the coop. After that, the chickens, having learned their lesson, fled to the distant mountains and never appeared again.
Two of the chickens they raise have already started laying eggs, meaning they can get an average of one egg a day.
Zhao Xuan salted the dead chicken, tied it with hemp rope, and placed it in a ventilated place. Whenever they craved meat, they could cut off a piece and stir-fry it. This way, the salted chicken could be kept for more than a month, and they could eat it sparingly. Therefore, after all the crops were planted, one chicken was just enough to finish the meal.
At this point, Lu An and Zhao Xuan began discussing making a trip to the county town.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com