When the magistrate of Beilu returned to the main hall, everyone could see he was looking refreshed.
No one thought much of it—until the man sat down and said, with a fawning smile, "My lord, as soon as I get back, I'll have the people plant forage grass."
Everyone blinked.
What happened?
Weren't you against it before?
This was the magistrate of Beilu. The land there wasn't good for growing grain—yields were low, hardly worth mentioning. So Fang Zichen told him: plant forage grass instead.
Plant forage grass?
The magistrate of Beilu hadn't wanted to do it at all. If they really planted grass, the common folk wouldn't have a single bite to eat.
Every household there raised a few sheep and cattle—not many, just a handful per family—because outsiders bought very little, and the animals could already graze freely outside and eat their fill. So why go to the trouble of planting grass in the fields? That just didn't make any sense to him.
Fang Zichen had explained: they needed to raise livestock on a large scale. Small-time efforts wouldn't amount to anything. The wild grass outside wouldn't be enough to feed them all.
Besides, cattle and sheep had to be penned up at night, and they needed fodder then too.
The people of Hezhou were poor and didn't eat much beef or mutton—and oxen couldn't be slaughtered casually anyway. They thought the prefect must have had some other plan in mind.
The magistrate of Beilu had agreed to follow his orders, but the others could tell he wasn't thrilled. Yet now, after one trip outside, he'd come back looking like he'd follow Fang Zichen to the ends of the earth.
Fang Zichen gave a few more instructions—the specifics could wait until tomorrow. After seeing the guests off, Zhao Ger finally smiled.
They'd eaten in the inner courtyard, since the main table was packed, and it wouldn't have been proper for the family to dine together with the guests.
"Husband, did you hoodwink them again?"
The magistrates had come in high spirits and left beaming with joy.
Fang Zichen shot him a mock glare. "What do you mean hoodwink? I swear, you really don't know how to talk, do you? Good thing I've got a good temper—if it were anyone else, you'd be in a coffin by now."
"Yes, yes, you're the best." Zhao Ger laughed, leaning over to rest his chin on Fang Zichen's shoulder and give him a peck. "So, husband, after the New Year, are you heading to Beilu County?"
Fang Zichen shook his head. "That was the original plan, but I can tell that Beilu magistrate is a decent man. He may not have great talents, but he should manage the small stuff well enough. I'll leave it to him—no need for me to go."
Zhao Ger: "Then where do you want to go?"
Fang Zichen pulled him into his lap, playing with his fingers idly. With a roguish air, he leaned close to Zhao Ger's ear, wrapping his arms around him—then his hands started wandering, slowly sliding down to his waist, and he teased: "I want to go to your sweet embrace."
Zhao Ger gave him a punch, his face flushing. "Behave yourself."
"You love me like this best." Fang Zichen pouted. "Come on, good big brother, let Xiao Fang give you a kiss—I didn't get enough meat at lunch."
Zhao Ger pushed him away. "No way, your mouth is all greasy."
"I'm a greasy man now! If I weren't greasy, I wouldn't be a greasy man. Come here, come on—I want to kiss my little fulang, steal a couple of sweet moments. I just love you to death."
Zhao Ger laughed, his brows relaxed and eyes bright with mirth, and sat on Fang Zichen's lap, playfully wrestling with him.
Fang Zichen ran his hand over the soft flesh at Zhao Ger's waist—smooth as silk, but so slender, so easily held in his palm. With just a little pressure, it seemed like it could snap.
His gaze deepened as he studied him. "Zhao Ger, you know, I think you get more charming with age. I like you even more now."
Zhao Ger gave him another punch. "You're the one getting old."
Fang Zichen kept teasing: "I tell the truth and you hit me? Can't handle being called old? But don't worry—even when you're old, I'll still love you. After all, your husband isn't the shallow type who judges by looks."
Zhao Ger clamped a hand over his mouth—but Fang Zichen mischievously licked his palm. Then he sniffed, frowning. "Zhao Ger, what did you just touch?"
Zhao Ger took a moment to calm the tingle that had shot up his palm, then smiled. "I was washing pig intestines!"
Fang Zichen: "…"
He wanted to throw up.
But he'd just eaten meat—a catty cost several copper coins, and throwing it up would be a waste… No, no, he had to swallow it back down.
Yu Ger and the others were about to come in and clear the table when they saw Fang Zichen with his lips puckered like a pig's snout, the two of them all tangled up and playfully bickering like a newlywed couple.
Most couples, after a year or two of marriage, start squabbling over petty little things. But these two—their affection stayed the same year after year, as if it would never fade.
Yang Ger couldn't help but feel envious. Even back when she and her husband were first married, they hadn't been this lovey-dovey. She chuckled and said, "Let's give them a moment and come back later."
---
The pig they bought was a big one, over two hundred catties. But since it had been raised on kitchen scraps and greens, it didn't have much lard, so they rendered all the fat for cooking oil. The rest of the meat wasn't salted for preservation—they kept it all for the household to eat.
And there were plenty of mouths to feed at home! It would probably be gone in just a few days.
Guaizai, Liuliu, and Gungun caught the smell and came running over, saying they wanted to try the crispy fried pork cracklings. Da Mi cut up some lean meat and fried it together with the fat, then scooped it out and let it cool before handing it to them.
The lean meat was fried until dry—crispy and crunchy, even tastier than the cracklings themselves. Chewed carefully, it was fragrant and savory. Guaizai loved it: "Auntie, fry some more! I want to bring some to godfather. He didn't get to eat at home today."
Xie Xiaoyu's belly was now noticeably big. With so many guests these past few days, he'd been staying at the shop to keep an eye on things. Today, while they were butchering the pig and entertaining the county magistrates who had come from out of town, Yu Ger and the others had gone back to help. The shop was busy, but they'd just taken a break when Guaizai and Liuliu showed up carrying a basket.
"Godfather!"
"Uncle Xie!"
The two called out, and Xie Xiaoyu looked out to see the little ones walking in through the door.
He beckoned them over, and when they drew close, he treated them like his own sons—patting one, then the other, his face full of affection: "You're here, hm? What's that smell? It's wonderful."
"It's fried lean meat! Do you want some, godfather?" Guaizai lifted the basket and asked.
Of course he did.
Xie Xiaoyu ate several pieces in a row, finishing them all in no time—barely enough to stick between his teeth. He licked his lips, still wanting more: "Why is there so little?"
Guaizai and Liuliu's faces turned a little red. They were too embarrassed to admit that on the way here, they hadn't been able to resist. They'd told themselves they'd only have a tiny bit, but as they walked and chatted, their hands kept drifting into the basket without thinking. By the time they realized it... well, the fact that there were still a few pieces left was only because the fried lean meat was a bit tough, and since both of them were losing their baby teeth, they couldn't chew very well. If their teeth had been stronger, the basket would probably be empty by now.
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