Xie Zheng rose from his bed with a grim expression, pulling on his clothes. He had barely made it out the door on his crutches when he saw Fan Changyu coming down from the loft, a lamp in one hand and a bedraggled gyrfalcon in the other, its feathers fluttering in every direction.

Seeing Xie Zheng, she looked a little surprised. “Did I wake you?”

The gyrfalcon, looking utterly dejected after being smacked several times, immediately began calling pitifully the moment it spotted its master. This time, however, it did not dare screech hysterically. Its cries were as weak as a chick’s, and all the feathers on its head were sticking up. It was a far cry from its former sleek, glossy appearance.

Xie Zheng was silent for a moment before asking, “This is…”

Fan Changyu gave the gyrfalcon dangling from her hand a little shake and broke into a wide grin. “I’ve seen this gyrfalcon around here several times. I happened to have bought an old hen, so I thought I’d try setting a trap for it. I never expected I’d actually catch it!”

Ordinary hawks and falcons could only carry off chicks, but this gyrfalcon was exceptionally large. With its wings spread, it was nearly a meter across, and it was astonishingly strong. When it struggled on the rooftop, it tore a sizable hole in the roof. If Fan Changyu hadn’t heard the commotion and hurried upstairs in time, it might really have broken free of the trap and escaped. It was only after taking several smacks from Fan Changyu that it finally settled down.

She said, “I’ll take it to the market tomorrow morning and see how many taels of silver I can get for it.”

The gyrfalcon continued staring pitifully at its master with a pair of beady little eyes.

Xie Zheng could hardly bear to look at the foolish bird. With a cold expression, he said against his conscience, “No one in the market buys live birds of prey like hawks and falcons. The meat is tough and sour if you kill them for food, and ordinary households can hardly afford to keep one. And without a skilled falconer to train it, its wild nature is difficult to tame, making it highly prone to injuring people.”

“Oh.” Fan Changyu was immediately crestfallen.

She scratched her head, “But this gyrfalcon’s leg was injured by the trap, and it hurt its wing when it thrashed against the roof beams, too. If I release it back into the wild, I’m afraid it won’t make it through the winter.”

The gyrfalcon let out a suitably weak and pitiful cry.

Xie Zheng: “…I happen to know a little about the art of training birds of prey. I could try to tame it. A trained hawk or falcon can fetch a hundred taels of silver or more.”

“Ei?” Fan Changyu looked genuinely surprised. But the moment she heard that this enormous falcon could be sold for dozens—even a hundred—taels of silver once it was trained, she brightened considerably. Even the thought of having to repair the roof tomorrow no longer seemed like much of a problem.

“Then we’ll keep it at home for now!”

She immediately found a chicken coop and put the gyrfalcon inside, then brought out some medicine and gauze.

The gyrfalcon huddled in the corner of the coop. Fan Changyu lifted one of its legs to apply the medicine and wrap it in gauze. Its beady little eyes were filled with terror, yet it did not dare move an inch.

Xie Zheng watched as the gyrfalcon’s leg was wrapped up until it looked like a little rice dumpling, and his eyelid twitched twice.

Once Fan Changyu had finished, she crouched beside the coop, gazing at the gyrfalcon with the fondness one might reserve for a hundred or so taels of silver.

“Tomorrow morning, when I butcher the pig, I’ll give you some fresh offal to eat.”

The pork had to be kept for sale. The offal, on the other hand, could be used however she pleased.

The offal from the pig they butchered today had already all been made into braised delicacies.

Before returning to her room, Fan Changyu thought about it and decided that the main room was simply too cold. She and her younger sister had a kang bed in their room, so they had not lit a charcoal brazier. She had only lit one in Yan Zheng’s room because she was worried that he was badly wounded and physically weak. Now that she thought about it, it would be perfect to keep the falcon in his room as well.

A kang (炕) is a traditional heated brick or clay bed system used for warming homes in cold regions.

After all, it was worth a hundred or so taels of silver. She absolutely could not let it freeze to death!

With that thought, Fan Changyu turned on her heel, picked up the chicken coop with the gyrfalcon inside, and knocked on Xie Zheng’s door.

Paying no attention whatsoever to the expression on the face of the man inside, she set the chicken coop down in a corner of his room. “It’s cold at night. We can’t let this gyrfalcon freeze, so I’ll leave it in your room for now.”

Xie Zheng cast the gyrfalcon a dark, ominous look.

“…Fine.”

Once the door was shut, the gyrfalcon’s beady little eyes met its master’s long, shadowy phoenix eyes. Dragging its injured leg and trembling, its wings drooped, many of their feathers already missing.

·•—–٠✤٠—–•·

Early the next morning, Fan Changyu slaughtered the pig as promised, then carried half a side of chopped pork lungs over to feed the gyrfalcon.

It seemed to be especially cold outside today. The snow had nearly piled up to the threshold, and the moment the door opened, a blast of frigid air hit them hard enough to make anyone shiver. Looking out through the doorway, they could see a whole row of icicles hanging beneath the eaves.

Fan Changyu’s hands were red from the cold. After placing the large bowl of pork lungs inside the cage, she rubbed her hands together before saying to the man sitting at the head of the bed, “It’s Dahan today, and the cold is fierce. Put on a few more layers when you get up. I made máoxuewang for you. Eat some to warm yourself up.”

大寒 (Dahan) — One of the Twenty-Four Solar Terms in the traditional Chinese calendar, marking the period of “Great Cold,” traditionally regarded as the coldest time of the year.

毛血旺 (máoxuèwàng) — A spicy Sichuan-style dish made with blood curd, offal, and other ingredients simmered in a richly seasoned, often fiery broth. It is the sort of hot, hearty dish that would be particularly fitting for warming up on a bitterly cold day.

Xie Zheng nodded to show that he understood. However, he truly did not have much in the way of thick clothing to wear. Before long, Fan Changyu returned with a thick padded coat that had belonged to her father.

Once Xie Zheng put it on, his figure looked somewhat bulky. Fortunately, he was tall enough that he still managed to look handsome.

And the winter coat really was warm. No matter how fiercely the cold wind blew, he remained comfortably warm inside it.

However, Fan Changyu had brought something else along with the padded coat: a dark blue hair ribbon.

Xie Zheng had seen this ribbon before. The last time, Fan Changyu had tied it around her own hair in a fit of pique.

He frowned.

When Fan Changyu came out of the kitchen carrying a large soup bowl, she saw that Xie Zheng had already gotten up and washed. “You’re up? Perfect timing. Sit down and eat.”

The surface of the soup in her bowl was a vivid, glossy red, and the air was filled with an intensely spicy, numbing aroma.

Fan Changyu noticed that he hadn’t used the hair ribbon she’d given him, but she said nothing.

She knew he was very particular about cleanliness. Bathing was inconvenient in winter, yet every few days he would still wipe himself down with hot water. He also washed his hair ribbon frequently, and when it sometimes took too long to dry, he would take it over to the firepit to dry by the flames. That was why she’d bought him another ribbon to alternate with.

She wasn’t the sort to be petty, after all. Just because she’d said she wouldn’t give him one didn’t mean she would really refuse him!

The bowl was filled to the brim, and since it had just come off the stove, it was scalding hot. After setting it on the table, Fan Changyu hurriedly pinched her burned fingers against her ears. “Hū, that’s hot!”

Little Changning leaned over. “Ningniang will Hūhū on them. Hū, hū, and they won’t hurt anymore.”

Fan Changyu was both amused and helpless as she held out her fingers to her little sister. Changning puffed out her cheeks and blew several times before finally stopping.

When Fan Changyu looked up, she saw Xie Zheng staring at her with an odd expression. She wiped a hand over her face and, finding no trace of soot there, asked, “Is there something on my face?”

He looked away. “No.”

Fan Changyu eyed him suspiciously twice before setting out the bowls and chopsticks. “Try the xuewang (shorten of Maoxuewang the dish)! It’s best when you eat it piping hot straight from the pot, but I didn’t have time today.”

The top of the soup was covered with a layer of Sichuan peppercorns and dried chilies sizzling in hot oil. Beneath that were chunks of pig’s blood, along with the braised pork intestines, pork stomach, pork lungs, and other offal from the night before. Unfortunately, the household had no bean sprouts growing, so there was no layer of plump, crisp, tender white bean sprouts lining the bottom.

Fan Changyu fished a piece of pig’s blood into her little sister’s bowl. Little Changning sucked in breath after breath from the heat, yet after finishing the piece, she still gazed longingly at the soup bowl.

“More!”

Fan Changyu fished out two more pieces for her.

This was the first time Xie Zheng had ever seen such a hodgepodge of ingredients cooked together into a single soup. From the looks of it, the broth itself wasn’t meant to be drunk, and besides, the Fan family had no habit of using serving chopsticks.

用公筷 — Gōngkuài, or serving chopsticks, are communal chopsticks used to transfer food from shared dishes to everyone's own bowl instead of using their own chopstick.

With ordinary stir-fried dishes, that was hardly an issue; everyone could simply pick food from their own side of the plate. But with everything stewed together in one pot, there was practically no way for him to use his chopsticks.

While he hesitated, the Fan sisters had already polished off nearly half a bowl of rice. Seeing that he was eating only rice and none of the dishes, Fan Changyu asked in confusion, “You don’t eat spicy food?”

“…It’s not that.”

In the end, he abandoned his fastidiousness about food and, with a frown, picked up a piece of pig’s blood that had been cooked to a deep red.

The first thing he noticed upon tasting it was the numbing heat and spice. It barely needed chewing; with the slightest press of his tongue, the blood curd dissolved between his lips and teeth. Unexpectedly, it was delicious.

He went on to sample the braised offal inside. Braised first and then simmered again, the rich fragrance of the seasoned braise blended perfectly with the numbing spice, making it nearly impossible to slow the pace of his chopsticks.

By the time the meal was over, Xie Zheng had almost forgotten that he was particular about food at all.

And just as Fan Changyu had said, sweat soon broke out all over his body from the heat, and he didn’t feel the slightest bit of the bitter cold outside.

He asked, “Is this a local specialty?”

“Sort of,” Fan Changyu said. “It’s a signature dish at Yixiang Restaurant in town. That female proprietor knows all sorts of recipes!”

Xie Zheng entertained the thought of introducing the dish to the army for no more than a moment before abandoning it. Food in the army only needed to be filling; there was no way they could prepare something this elaborate. Besides, spices such as chilies and Sichuan peppercorns would be a considerable expense.

After clearing away the bowls and chopsticks, Fan Changyu carried the gyrfalcon from his room over to the firepit. Before leaving, she didn’t forget to remind him, “There’s still half a side of pork lungs in the kitchen. Chop them up later and feed them to that gyrfalcon.”

She scratched her head and said, somewhat sheepishly, “If you have some free time, maybe try training it, too?”

The lazy glance Xie Zheng cast her way was positively murderous.

“…Fine.”

Inside its cage, the gyrfalcon trembled and shrank its neck, looking like a giant quail.

Satisfied, Fan Changyu pushed her handcart to the shop. The snow was heavy today, and even at this hour, there were still very few people coming and going in the streets.

The street where the butcher shop was located was just as deserted.

Fan Changyu opened the shop door and cleared away the snow that had accumulated beneath the eaves. Only then did she discover that someone had smashed the makeshift stove she’d built from brick outside.

She was so angry that she actually laughed.

How many days had her shop even been selling braised meat? And already someone was jealous enough to start smashing her things?

After what had happened with Fan Da and the gambling house, Fan Changyu had long since become known for being fierce and hot-tempered. A fearsome reputation had its advantages sometimes.

Fan Changyu immediately tossed aside her broom, planted her hands on her hips, and shouted, “Which bastard son of a turtle smashed your Gu Nainai’s things? Got a problem but don’t have the guts to say it to my face, so you sneak around behind my back doing this kind of shit? Were your ancestors all turtles or something?”

鳖孙犊子 — This is a colorful insult. 鳖 (biē) is a soft-shelled turtle, while 孙犊子 (sūn dúzǐ) is itself an insulting term roughly equivalent to “bastard” or “son of a bitch.” Fan Changyu deliberately piles insults together.

She had practiced martial arts from a young age, and when she sank her breath into her dantian and started cursing, her voice could carry down the entire street.

气沉丹田 — A martial-arts/breathing concept referring to sinking one's breath and qi into the dantian, the area of the lower abdomen traditionally regarded as a center of qi.

The butchers from the neighboring shops all kept silent. Only Butcher Gu happened to meet her gaze and immediately shouted, “Why are you looking at me? I’m not the one who smashed your stuff!”

Fan Changyu genuinely didn’t suspect him. Apart from the gleeful schadenfreude on his face, there wasn’t the slightest trace of a guilty conscience to suggest he’d done anything.

One of the butcher’s wives nearby seemed to remember something and suddenly said, “Oh no, Changyu! Your shop was closed for a month before, wasn’t it? Did you not pay the protection fee?”

This was the first time Fan Changyu had ever heard of such a thing. Confused, she asked, “What’s that?”

The butcher’s wife sighed. “We open our doors and do business, so besides paying the government our monthly taxes, we also have to hand over a little money to curry favor with the gang leader who runs this street. Your shop must have been doing exceptionally well these past few days, and word got around to those people. If you ask me, they’ll probably come collecting soon.”

Fan Changyu understood immediately. Those people had smashed the stove outside her shop last night as a warning. They would certainly be coming today to demand protection money from her.

She thanked the butcher’s wife, then laid out the fresh meat and braised meat she’d brought on the chopping block. After that, she placed a long wooden staff behind the door and waited for the ruffians to come while continuing to sell meat.

It wasn’t until a third-quarter past the Chen hour (around 8:45 AM) that a group of street thugs came swaggering and shoving their way toward the meat market. They were so brazen and overbearing that everyone along the way hurriedly stepped aside when they saw them.

Fan Changyu heard the commotion from inside the shop and looked outside.

Well, well. An old acquaintance!

⟡ Aewoo’s Ramble ⟡

The title for the chapter is 使劲忽悠 (Shǐjìn Hūyōu). 忽悠 (hūyōu) is very colloquial and has the sense of talking someone into something through persuasion, exaggeration, or outright bullshit, while 使劲 (Shǐjìn) means doing it with gusto / going all out.

Basically just Xie Zheng lying with all his might to manipulate Fan Changyu into keeping the falcon lmao.