Meng Qingluan brought over a basin of small intestines that she had washed yesterday, and another basin of minced meat that she had prepared the night before.
Meng Qingluan, understanding that he had been outside in the cold all night, did not ask him to help her make sausages again.
Seeing Meng Qingluan's actions, Shen Yan reached out and pushed all the meat filling into the sausage casing.
Shen Yan asked curiously, "What is this?"
Meng Qingluan explained, "To make sausages."
"sausage?"
“Yes,” Meng Qingluan explained to him without stopping her work, “The sausages are dried and then sold for money; they’re very delicious.”
Shen Yan had never heard of such a rare thing before, and he looked up at her with some curiosity.
Meng Qingluan was so focused on her work that she didn't notice his scrutinizing gaze. Without looking up, she spoke to him.
"You should go and rest."
Shen Yan shook his head and offered to wash his hands to help.
“I’m not made of some precious jewel, I’m not that delicate and fragile. I’ll help my wife.”
"..."
After drinking a portion of his drink, Meng Qingluan suddenly asked him, "Chen Yan, don't you hate me?"
Shen Yan was taken aback by her question, and after looking at her face for a long time, he smiled gently.
"Why should I hate you? My wife redeemed me; you are my benefactor."
"..."
Meng Qingluan did not answer, but silently lowered her head.
Shen Yan's expression was serious, his eyes calm; she couldn't tell whether his words were true or false.
When Shen Yan was at Nanfeng Pavilion, the original owner often humiliated and teased him in every way in order to save face in front of the courtesan.
Even though she later impulsively redeemed herself and married him, out of cowardice and to please Zhou San and the others, she chose to stand idly by when the male lead was almost defiled.
In this life, her timely appearance prevented the final tragedy, but what she did before was real.
Meng Qingluan sighed, praying that he truly did not hold a grudge against her.
Shen Yan lowered his head and imitated her movements to stuff sausages, speeding up considerably after hearing Meng Qingluan's question.
To dry the sausages as soon as possible, Meng Qingluan sat by the stove and carefully dried them.
After drying until the casing wrinkles and the meat filling sticks to it, the sausages are hung on a rope in the kitchen to dry.
The two lay on the same couch, separated by a quilt, in silence.
Meng Qingluan was exhausted after a long day, and she fell asleep uncontrollably as soon as her head touched the pillow.
Shen Yan slowly opened his closed eyes again.
The cold moonlight fell on his eyebrows and eyelashes, but even colder than the moonlight was the chilling glint in his eyes.
Shen Yan gently stroked his right forearm with his left index finger. It was covered in bruises and scratches that had scabbed over with blood.
I never expected that Wednesday would be so bold as to team up with a group of thugs to try and humiliate him.
Chen Yan's gentle caress suddenly changed, the force increasing as he swept heavily across the original wound.
The scabbed wound was suddenly torn open, and a trickle of blood flowed down the forearm, the faint smell of blood lingering in the small space.
Shen Yan's tongue licked the bloodstains on his forearm, then licked them onto his lips, his smile almost bewitching.
He had originally planned to let that stupid woman see the sun for a few more days.
Now it seems there's no need for that.
Chen Yan turned his head and braced himself with one hand on the quilt that was lying horizontally in the middle.
With his other hand, he gently stroked Meng Qingluan's face, then moved to her neck.
"Do you know something?"
"..."
"While I'm still somewhat curious about you, keep up the act, or your death will be just around the corner."
"...Get away, you dead mosquito..."
In her sleep, Meng Qingluan groggily slapped away the large hand that was messing with her neck.
Chen Yan wasn't annoyed when he was slapped away. He placed his hand around her fragile neck and applied a little force.
Meng Qingluan frowned uncomfortably and struggled.
Shen Yan withdrew her hand and gently pinched her cheek again, retaliating against her evaluation of her last night.
"Isn't your face just as rough to the touch?"
And they said I
…
When Meng Qingluan woke up early the next morning, she felt a pain in her neck. She rubbed it and felt better.
She got up a little late today; it was almost dawn.
Shen Yan walked in from outside and brought a bowl of thin porridge, placing it on the table.
"My wife is awake? Get up and have breakfast."
Meng Qingluan looked at the rice porridge, which was only slightly colored, and gulped it down, feeling as if she had drunk a large bowl of water.
Sigh. Looks like I'll have to stock up on food today; we're really going to be starving.
Then her braised pork ribs pigs will go hungry again!
A woman's hands are meant to conquer the world!
It's not meant to starve pigs.
Meng Qingluan quickly changed her clothes; she wouldn't need Lu Renjia today.
Chen Yan had already prepared the charcoal in advance, so Meng Qingluan hadn't moved the earthen stove off the cart yesterday.
The two put down the pot of offal stew and pushed it out.
Today, Meng Qingluan cooked all the offal she had bought a few days ago. When she returned in the evening, she planned to wander around the city to see if there were any shops selling pork.
Although Shen Yan looked thin and frail, he still had some strength.
Meng Qingluan helped a little, but the rest was almost entirely done by Chen Yan.
When the two arrived in town, they found that Meng Qingluan's spot from the previous night had already been taken because they were late.
I could only find a spot not far from where I parked yesterday.
Soon after, customers who had pre-ordered yesterday came to buy offal soup.
Half an hour later, most of the large pot of offal soup had been sold.
A nonchalant figure swaggered over, and Meng Qingluan's expression instantly turned cold.
"Is Sister Meng setting up a stall?"
On Wednesday, as he spoke, he raised his hand to lift the pot lid, and burst into laughter after seeing what was inside.
"Ha ha ha ha--"
"Sister Meng, why are you still selling pig offal to people to eat? Have you gone crazy for money?"
The thugs following behind Wednesday also laughed.
"Meng Qingluan must be starving."
"Chen Yan is really unlucky to follow her; he has to eat pig offal every day."
Meng Qingluan slapped his hand away and snatched the pot lid from his hand in a huff.
With a flick of his wrist, he scooped up a spoonful of trembling offal soup and shoved it at Zhou San's nose.
"Open your dog eyes and look! The texture of this pig intestine is an artwork carved from twenty-four spices. It smells much better than your sack of excrement."
Before Wednesday could react, Meng Qingluan smeared the spoon onto his lips again.
"Can't taste the difference? No wonder—" Meng Qingluan leaned close to her ear and chuckled, "So you really do eat shit all the time, you can't even taste the difference."
On Wednesday, in a fit of rage, he raised his hand to swing away the iron spoon, but due to excessive force...
The spoon flew out and smashed the enamel bowl of the old lady who was queuing to buy offal with a "crack".
"Hey! You little brat, Zhou San, do you have a death wish?"
I took a step back on Wednesday, but I never expected to offend these old ladies.
Although he was a tyrant all day long, he only acted arrogantly towards those who were timid.
Women in their thirties and forties like these are formidable fighters; if you mess with them, you're out of luck!
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