Chapter 168
The next day, after getting up, Zhao Ger discovered that the cooking oil at home was almost finished. He instructed Fang Zichen to buy a few jin of pork fat on his way home from work.
They had to eat every day, and cooking meals required oil. While an ordinary family could make a single bowl of lard last nearly two months, this was impossible in Fang Zichen's case. He could use it all up in just two or three days.
If the dishes weren't cooked with enough oil, he simply refused to eat them.
After work, he headed towards West Street. As he approached, he grabbed a young man and asked, "At the pork stall on West Street today, is it Lao Li selling or his daughter?"
The young man understood and patted his arm. "Don't worry, brother. It's Lao Li today, you can go boldly." He paused here, then said, "Ah, his daughter probably won't be coming anymore from now on."
Fang Zichen only heard the first part. "Thanks."
After not seeing him for half a month, Lao Li seemed to have aged considerably and looked much more haggard. Though only fifty, his hair had turned completely white. When he noticed Fang Zichen approaching, he managed a strained smile. While slicing the fat and weighing it, he made small talk.
It was the last large piece of pork fat, over nine jin. Fang Zichen originally wanted eight jin, as the remaining half-jin or so would be harder to sell.
Fang Zichen said, "I'll take it all. Wrap it up for me!"
Lao Li liked this about him. After wrapping the pork fat, he added two large bones for him.
Returning home, Zhao Ger washed it directly and started rendering it in the pot. The pork fat was cut into pieces the size of fists.
The three of them were busy in the kitchen when Zhou Ger arrived, calling Zhao Ger to go pick chilies from his vegetable plot.
At noon, villagers had successively delivered over four hundred jin of chilies. Zhao Ger thought that after collecting them in the village, he would hire two people to help. He instructed Fang Zichen to watch the fire at home, took a basket, and was about to leave when Guaizai pattered over, saying he wanted to go help.
The fire crackled for a while, and fragrance began to rise from the pot.
The aroma was truly mouth-watering. Just smelling it made Fang Zichen feel hungry. He had watched Zhao Ger render lard before, so now he imitated him, using the spatula to turn the pieces. He handled the spatula with a practiced ease that made it seem like he knew exactly what he was doing.
After eight or nine minutes, the oil started to render, and it began spluttering violently in the pot. Oil splattered everywhere.
"Damn, damn..."
The back of his hand got splashed, it stung sharply. Fang Zichen threw the spatula down, yelping and hopping around erratically like a dancer in a ritual, then stood there completely stunned.
Last time, this didn't happen!
Why is it exploding now that it's my turn?
Should I cover it with a lid? But if I cover it, how am I supposed to stir it? If I don't stir it, will it stick to the pan?
Cooking is as tricky as solving Olympiad math problems.
He thought for a while but still didn't know whether he should cover it or if he could cover it.
Ah, this is too hard! I just can't figure it out.
I should go find Zhao Ger.
Fang Zichen's intelligence was still online; before leaving, he remembered to remove the firewood from the stove.
He hadn't wandered around Xiaohe Village many times, but after one or two trips, he knew all the shortcuts, where each path led, completely clearly.
In intelligent people's minds, it's like they have a built-in navigation map.
Head south, left turn 100 meters ahead, go straight through the threshing ground, then right for 260 meters to reach the destination.
This path passed by the upper part of the threshing ground. As soon as Fang Zichen arrived, he heard Zhao Ger's name.
Several young wives were sitting on the stone benches by the threshing ground. Some were sorting vegetables, others were sewing shoe soles.
In the dead of winter, chilly and cold, yet it seemed these chores couldn't be done at home, they had to come to the threshing ground to do them.
When young wives gathered together, what did they love to do most? The answer was beyond doubt!
Back in school, it was talking about schoolmates, seniors, little idols. Here, there were no idols, no seniors, so they could only gossip and chat about daily life. Today, the subject of gossip was Zhao Ger.
Originally, they weren't talking about Zhao Ger either, but they had just seen him and Zhou Ger pass by, so they started talking about him.
It was cold, and there weren't many people around, so everyone chatted without restraint.
"Did you see Guaizai just now?" someone asked.
"I saw him, so small, quite cute."
"Yes, but," the speaker lowered her voice, "I heard people say he's not of the Ma family's seed."
The village had many speculations about Guaizai's origins.
Some said he was Ma Wen's, but others carefully calculated the timing of Guaizai's birth and said he wasn't.
The Ma family had previously told outsiders that Guaizai was indeed a descendant of the Ma family, but they themselves kept calling him 'bastard'. After Zhao Ger was sold to Fang Zichen, the Ma family were resentful but also afraid that speaking too harshly would provoke Fang Zichen. They didn't say it blatantly outside, but their words were always laced with insinuations that Zhao Ger had been unfaithful. It wasn't until Ma Laosan had his leg broken and Fang Zichen went to threaten them that they finally stopped daring to say such things.
Ma Wen's loud shout in the yard last time had also been overheard by many people.
"Guaizai was born from Zhao Ger's affair, Ma Wen said it himself last time. It's confirmed."
"Guaizai doesn't look much like Zhao Ger, and he doesn't look like any of the men in our village either. Who did Zhao Ger cheat with?"
"Who knows, maybe someone from another village! I knew at first glance he was no good."
"How can you say that!"
"He's a slut. A few years ago, I often saw him going up the mountain after dark. What do you think he was going to do? Definitely not to gather firewood. Ma Wen was away from home all year round. He probably became skilled at cheating, his skills in bed must be good, otherwise how could Fang Zichen dote on him so much?"
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