Transmigrated into a minor official in a county government, with children at home waiting for rice t

There was only one proper kitchen in the old house, located on the east side of the main room. The stove was made of blue bricks mixed with broken stones, and two iron pots, one large and one small, were embedded in the stove hole.

There was a small shed next to the stove, piled with firewood and wheat straw.

This kitchen had always been used by Zhou Qing and his wife. Since they paid the most rent, they naturally had the best stove. Zhou Chenshi was a meticulous person; the stove was spotless, the iron pot was polished to a shine, and even the firewood was stacked neatly.

Now that Zhang Sanlang has moved into the main house, the kitchen naturally belongs to him.

Lin Qiao'er had already tidied up the kitchen. Under Zhang Sanlang's instructions, she wiped the bottom of the pot with pigskin, placed it on the stove, and heated it. The lard seeped into the iron creases, making the pot surface black and shiny.

"Uncle Zhang, the kitchen is ready." She stood at the kitchen door, her hands still covered in soot.

Zhang Sanlang peeked out and nodded.

He stood under the eaves and called out to the gatekeeper, "Uncle Sun, are you free tonight? Help me kill this chicken, and come over for drinks later."

Old Sun was squatting at the gatehouse mending a jacket when he heard this. He looked up, grinned, and said, "Okay. I'm coming right now."

He tied a knot in the hemp thread in his hand, bit the end of the thread, stood up, and patted the dust off his knees.

Upon hearing the words "kill the chicken," Qingge jumped up, ran to the kitchen, grabbed a cleaver, and ran back carrying it with both hands. Huzi followed behind him, clutching a fire poker.

"Grandpa Sun, here comes the knife!" Qingge handed over the kitchen knife, holding his two little hands high.

Old Sun took the kitchen knife and weighed it in his hand.

The knife is not sharp; the blade is a bit dull.

He rubbed the blade on the whetstone a few times, tested it with his thumb, and then nodded.

He squatted down, untied the straw rope, grabbed the hen's two wings with one hand, and with the other hand, turned the hen's head back, exposing its neck to pluck the feathers. The hen's comb was bright red, and its claws were kicking wildly in the air.

Qingge squatted down beside him, watching intently.

Tiger also came over, his mouth watering at the sight of the live chicken.

Old Sun muttered a couple of words, like a Taoist priest chanting incantations, and then slit the chicken's neck with a kitchen knife.

The cut wasn't deep; a line of blood seeped from the chicken's neck.

The chicken struggled a few times, kicking its claws even more fiercely.

Old Sun gave it a good stab. This time the cut was deeper, and blood gushed out, dripping into the prepared earthenware basin. The blood droplets trickled down the side of the basin, forming a small puddle at the bottom.

The chicken's struggles gradually weakened. Old Sun put the chicken on the ground; its claws twitched twice and then stopped moving.

"Alright." Old Sun stood up, put the cleaver aside, and said, "Once the blood has drained, we can scald the hair."

Qingge took a closer look at the chicken.

The chicken had its eyes closed, its wings drooping, and its belly was still rising and falling slightly.

He reached out and poked the rooster's comb.

Tiger also came over and poked the chicken feet with the fire poker.

The chicken claw moved slightly, startling Tiger, who took a half-step back.

"It's nothing, he's dead." Qing-ge patted his chest and stood up.

Before he could finish speaking, the chicken suddenly rolled its eyelids and jumped up with a flap of its wings.

Blood splattered from the chicken's neck onto the ground, and a drop of blood landed on Qingge's forehead. The chicken flapped its wings in the yard, kicking up dust that rose half a person's height.

Qingge cried out in surprise and turned to run. He slipped and fell on his bottom, but got up and kept running.

The chicken chased Qingge'er for a few steps, then wobbled and turned a corner before chasing Huzi. Blood was still dripping from his neck, leaving a broken red line on the ground.

"It's alive! The chicken is alive again!" Tiger was stunned for a moment, then threw away the fire poker and ran to the backyard crying and shouting.

The sound echoed in the courtyard, a sobbing tone, squeezing in through the crack in the back door.

Qingge ran to the west wing, where he leaned over the door frame and peered out.

The chicken stood in the yard for a moment, tilted its head and looked around, then slowly walked to the porch and pecked at a few grains of husk.

When Zhang Sanlang came out of the kitchen after hearing the noise, this was the scene he saw.

Old Sun stood by the stone table in the courtyard, still holding the basin of chicken blood in his hands, a sheepish grin on his face. "Sanlang, I probably didn't cut it deep enough. I'm old and my hands trembled, so I didn't cut it all the way through."

Qingge peeked out from the west wing, his face ashen with fright, his lips trembling.

Upon seeing Zhang Sanlang, he burst into tears, "Dad, the chicken isn't dead! It chased me!"

Zhang Sanlang glanced at the chicken still pacing in the yard, then at the tear stains on Qingge'er's face and the mud on his trousers, and couldn't help but laugh, "You're afraid of even a chicken, and you're supposed to be a boy."

Qingge wiped away his tears and sniffled, "It was dead, but it came back to life! That was terrifying!"

Zhang Sanlang rolled his eyes and ignored him, turning back to the kitchen.

A-Yun came out from the west wing, holding a broom in her hand.

She saw the chicken under the porch and paused for a moment. She walked over, held the broom horizontally in front of her, and slowly approached.

The chicken tilted its head and looked at her, but didn't move.

A-Yun blocked the way with her broom and stepped aside to make way. Chao-Qing waved to her, "Come here, I'll protect you."

Qingge hesitated for a moment, then slipped out of the west wing and ran along the wall to Ayun's side. Ayun held up a broom in front of him and escorted him step by step to the door of the main room.

The chicken wasn't chased.

It walked a few steps under the porch, pecked at a few grains of husk, walked a few more steps, swayed, and slowly tilted to the side. It kicked its feet twice, and this time it truly stopped moving.

Ah-Yun breathed a sigh of relief and leaned the broom against the wall.

Qingge peeked out from behind her, looked at the chicken lying on the ground, and then shrank back inside.

"Is he really dead?" he asked in a low voice.

"It's really dead." A-Yun squatted down, poked the rooster's comb, and touched its wing. "It's starting to get cold."

Qingge'er then stepped out from behind her, squatted down next to the chicken and watched for a while. Only after confirming that the chicken would not jump up again did he let out a long sigh of relief.

"Sister Yun, thank you." He looked up at Yun and his face turned red.

A-Yun smiled, picked up the broom, and went back to the west wing.

Just then, Aunt Sun came in from outside the courtyard gate, carrying a bundle of firewood on her shoulder. She saw chicken feathers and bloodstains all over the yard, and then she saw the chicken sitting by the kitchen door. "Oh, Zhang Qianxing killed a chicken today?"

Zhang Sanlang poked his head out of the kitchen. "Sister-in-law Sun is back. Perfect timing, help me boil some water to scald the chicken and pluck its feathers."

Aunt Sun placed the firewood beside the stove, dusted herself off, and said, "Okay. I'm good at this."

She squatted down, picked up the chicken, weighed it in her hand, and frowned slightly. "Zhang Qianxing, this chicken isn't big, only about two pounds. It's a Yunying chicken that hasn't laid eggs yet, right?"

Just as He's eldest daughter-in-law reached the porch and was about to go to the front yard, she paused upon hearing this, turned around, and went back to the back yard.

Zhang Sanlang caught a glimpse of her and smiled. "Sister-in-law He gave it to me for free. Yunying chicken it is, it's fine. We don't need to make soup, so boiled chicken will do just fine too."

Aunt Sun smiled slightly and turned to boil water.