After fleeing the famine, my older sister and I married the brother next door.

As the rooster crowed for the first time, Chen Dashan groped his way out of the darkness. The kang (heated brick bed) was warm, and Su Xiaoyin was fast asleep beside him, her breathing even and deep. He moved very quietly, afraid of waking her. Ever since her belly grew bigger, she rarely got a good night's sleep, always woken up by the baby's kicks or tossing and turning because of back pain. She wanted to sleep as much as she could.

He had just put on his cold cotton trousers when the rustling sound woke Su Xiaoyin from her sleepy eyes. Outside the window, the sky was still a deep, inky blue, with only a faint sliver of gray-white showing through the eastern horizon.

"So early today?" she asked in a sleepy voice, trying to sit up while propping herself up on the kang (a heated brick bed).

Chen Dashan quickly turned around and gently pressed her shoulder: "It's still dark, sleep a little longer. Butcher Wang is coming to pick up the pigs today, and he'll also slaughter the New Year's pig for the old house. There's a lot to do, so we need to go help out as soon as possible. It'll be crowded and chaotic there this morning, so you and your sister-in-law shouldn't go. Just stay home. I'll have Mom come over to keep you company after she's done her work, or I'll try to finish up and come back as soon as possible." He tucked her in, his tone gentle and uncompromising, "Be good, sleep a little longer."

Su Xiaoyin felt sleepy again, her eyelids grew heavy, and she mumbled, "Hmm... okay, Xiaoqing and I can manage on our own, you guys go ahead..." Before she could finish speaking, her breathing became even again, and she quickly drifted off to sleep.

Chen Dashan stood by the kang (a heated brick bed), gazing at her peaceful sleeping face for a moment in the dim light filtering through the window. His heart softened, and he felt an indescribable pang of heartache. He shook his head, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear before turning and tiptoeing out of the room, carefully closing the door behind him.

In the courtyard, Chen Xiaohe had just come out. The two brothers exchanged a glance, said nothing, and tacitly began to tidy up. Chen Dashan checked the ropes and carrying pole, while Chen Xiaohe went to the woodshed to bring out the largest iron pot, preparing to boil water. The two hastily washed their faces with water from the well, instantly becoming much more awake, before stepping through the still-melting snow and heading towards the old house.

The lights were already on in the kitchen of the old house. Chen's mother was busy at the stove, cooking a thick corn porridge in a large pot, while steam rose from a steamer next to her, filled with steamed cornbread made yesterday. Chen's father squatted at the door, puffing on his pipe, the red glow of the pipe tip flickering in the pre-dawn darkness.

"Father, Mother," the two brothers greeted.

"You're up? Dinner will be ready soon, have a bite first," Chen's mother said without turning her head.

After a quick breakfast, just as dawn was breaking, the sounds of oxcart wheels and shouts could be heard in the distance. Butcher Wang arrived with his two burly sons, driving an empty cart. Butcher Wang was a dark-skinned man in his forties, broad-shouldered and thick-waisted, with a booming voice. Despite the cold weather, he wore only a thin padded jacket, the sleeves rolled up high, revealing his thick forearms.

"Brother Chen! Big Mountain, Little River! Good morning!" Butcher Wang jumped off the car and greeted them in a loud voice.

"Brother Wang, thank you for making this trip!" Mr. Chen greeted him and handed him the tobacco he had prepared beforehand.

After a few pleasantries, they got down to business. The first thing they sold was the pig that the Chen brothers had raised in the backyard of their new house. Wang the butcher, experienced as he was, circled the pigpen twice, pressed down on the pig's back, and patted its rump, causing the pig to grunt in dissatisfaction.

"Hmm, this pig is well-raised! It's plump and strong, with a glossy coat!" Butcher Wang praised. "As we agreed, it's ten coins a pound, based on its weight."

Several men worked together, and it took considerable effort, to drive the restless, fat pig out of its pen. They bound its four hooves with thick rope and lifted it onto the large scale. Wang the butcher's eldest son weighed the pig, while his younger son announced the weight: "Two hundred and thirty catties exactly!"

Mr. Chen had already done the math in his head, and upon hearing this, he smiled and said, "Two hundred and thirty catties, ten coins per catty, that's exactly two taels of silver and three hundred coins."

Butcher Wang readily agreed, pulling an old money pouch from his pocket and counting out some silver coins, handing it to Chen's father: "Brother Chen, count it, is it correct?"

"That's right, that's right, Brother Wang is honest!" Father Chen took it and handed it to Chen Xiaohe, who was waiting eagerly. Chen Xiaohe grinned and carefully put it in his pocket.

Wang the butcher's two sons deftly lifted the pig onto their own cart, secured it with hemp rope, said goodbye to everyone, and drove off with a creaking sound. They had to hurry home to process the pig, as they still had other places to visit in the afternoon.

Next came the main event of the day—killing the fat pig that had been raised for a whole year and specially kept for the New Year at the old house. Butcher Wang called on the Chen family father and son to help boil several large pots of water, while he took out various knives from his satchel and began sharpening them on a whetstone with a "whoosh," the blades gleaming coldly in the morning light.

By this time, the neighbors who were there to help had arrived one after another. First to arrive was Chen Ermu, a cousin of Chen's father, and the two families were usually very close. Next came Chen Youtian, the eldest son of the village head, who came on behalf of the village head's family, also to give face to the Chen family. Chen Wufu also came with his third son, a strong young man who could help herd the pigs. Two or three other families who were on good terms with the Chen family also came, some carrying large wooden basins, others carrying hemp ropes, chatting and laughing as they entered the courtyard. The once quiet morning suddenly became lively.

The men gathered around the pigsty, discussing how to get the pig out. The women were welcomed into the kitchen by Chen's mother with a smile to help. The village head's daughter-in-law, Chen Ermu's wife, and two other quick-witted aunts rolled up their sleeves as soon as they entered, some washing vegetables, some chopping meat, some scrubbing pots and pans, all chatting about everyday matters, praising Chen's mother's good fortune—her two daughters-in-law were expecting babies, and the family had slaughtered a large, fat pig; life was prosperous.

Mother Chen was secretly pleased, but she said modestly, "It's all thanks to everyone that we're managing to get by. Thank you all for your hard work today, aunties and sisters. Let's have a good feast of pork stew later!"

"That's great! We've been waiting for your cooking skills, sister-in-law!" Chen Ermu's wife said with a smile.

In the courtyard, several men finally subdued the larger pig and carried it out. Realizing its end was near, the pig let out a mournful squeal, struggling desperately with astonishing strength. Chen Dashan, Chen Xiaohe, Chen Wufu's son, and others who were holding it down all turned red in the face. Butcher Wang seized the opportunity, his movements as swift as lightning. Before anyone could even see clearly, after a short, muffled groan, the pig's struggles gradually weakened.

Boiling water was already prepared. Scalding, scraping, gutting, and butchering... Butcher Wang was the master butcher, his movements skillful and fluid. Chen's father and others assisted him, handing him tools, collecting the blood (to be used for blood sausage), and cleaning the internal organs. The air was filled with a strong stench of blood and the unique smell of offal, but it wasn't repulsive. Instead, it mingled with the smoke from the firewood and the steam from the boiling water, creating a busy atmosphere unique to the end of the twelfth lunar month, filled with the anticipation of a bountiful harvest.

Chen's mother took a moment to come out of the kitchen and glance at the meat. She said to Butcher Wang, who was cutting meat, "Brother Wang, keep the pig's head, four trotters, offal, lard, and those big bones. Also, save the blood sausage for us when it's ready."

"Don't worry, Sister Chen, I've picked them all out as you instructed!" Butcher Wang replied.