Fan Jing had formally become an apprentice, and Kang He had originally planned to make him a set of Butchery Tools.
But the prices were simply too high—after going around all the iron workshops in The Town, it would easily cost over two strings of coins.
Previously, the family had already given Hu Dasan a red envelope of two strings and eight hundred coins, so their hands were indeed not exactly flush with cash.
It was Butcher Hu who rummaged up some old Butchery Tools from his home and handed them to Fan Jing, letting him pick and choose.
Since he wasn’t about to start working independently just yet, there was no rush to get a brand new, complete set.
So Fan Jing took Butcher Hu’s old Butchery Tools to the iron workshop for a thorough sharpening, paid a little labor fee, and made do with them for now.
One day, Hu Dasan came a day early to tell Fan Jing that the next day they’d be going to Tang Family Village to slaughter a pig, and he was to follow along.
Fan Jing agreed.
When Butcher Hu was young, he had a stall at the Meat Market in The Town, slaughtering pigs and sheep and selling the meat at his stall, earning a decent sum.
Life at home was comfortable; he had both a son and a daughter, both well married, with generous dowries.
But in the past two years, Hu Dasan had developed back pain—his body wasn’t what it used to be, and he couldn’t stand for long periods. So he stopped manning the meat stall and now only did lighter, easier work.
Whenever a family needed a pig slaughtered, they’d call for him, and he’d go and kill the livestock, earning a slaughtering fee.
But just slaughtering livestock without buying the meat meant fewer people called for him than before, and Fan Jing didn’t get many chances to hone his craft.
So whenever someone called, he’d try to follow along as much as possible.
The sky was barely light when Fan Jing got up and hurriedly ate breakfast.
Kang He packed the Knife Set into a cloth bag and rolled it up. After receiving Hu Dasan’s message yesterday, he had spent the night instructing Fan Jing, reminding him to be polite when out and about.
Truthfully, Fan Jing was already grown and had learned Archery and Hunting even before, so even without Kang He, he’d have managed just fine.
He wasn’t a hot-tempered, unreasonable person, so there was little to worry about.
But since Fan Jing was going out to practice his craft under Kang He’s watchful eyes, Kang He still felt a bit uneasy. Fan Jing, on the other hand, was patient and didn’t find it annoying, quietly listening to Kang He’s instructions.
After finishing a bowl of soup porridge, Fan Jing slung the cloth bag over his shoulder. “I’m off.”
Kang He hummed in response and saw him out the gate, watching as he headed toward the Hu Family’s direction, only turning back inside once Fan Jing’s figure had disappeared.
Today, the wind was especially strong, blowing the two broken baskets in the yard around and around. Who knew if it was going to rain?
After the family finished breakfast, Kang He followed Fan Father to work the fields for half a day. When they returned for lunch, the weather had already changed.
A mass of dark clouds drifted over and blocked out the sun, and the sky darkened all at once.
In less than a quarter of an hour, the wind picked up, blowing the long beans and cabbage leaves drying on the firewood all over the yard.
Chen Sanfang came out cursing, hurriedly calling for Juner and Qiaor to help bring the beans and cabbage back inside.
The wind blew for a while and showed no signs of stopping—instead, it only grew fiercer, tossing the lush green trees back and forth as if trying to rip them from the ground.
Every household was busy gathering in their drying clothes, vegetables, and fruits. Someone’s house must have been empty, as their bedding was blown right out into the fields.
Kang He looked at the weather, a bit worried that Fan Jing wouldn’t be able to make it back easily, and spent the whole afternoon restless.
By late afternoon, after a rumble of muffled thunder, fat raindrops came pelting down, stinging like hail when they hit.
Standing under the eaves, the dense rain drummed on the Clay House’s thatched roof with a dull thud.
But Kang He didn’t have time to worry—before long, Chen Sanfang was shouting that the roof was leaking.
Kang He hurried to find containers to catch the rainwater.
The Clay House was always most afraid of the Summer Month’s wild winds and heavy rains. If it rained long enough, water would seep in, and if the wind picked up again, it could lift the thatch and let even more rain inside.
The two girls ran from room to room catching rainwater, and in less than the time it takes to burn an incense stick, every basin and bucket in the house was in use.
But the rain showed no sign of stopping; the basins filled quickly and had to be emptied often.
The floor was just packed earth, and as the water leaked in, it turned to mud underfoot. Who would have thought that just being indoors, your shoes could get caked in mud?
Seeing things couldn’t go on like this, Kang He set up a ladder and used the thick bundles of thatch they had prepared at home to patch up the leaks.
As for Fan Jing, after meeting up with Hu Dasan at the Hu Family, they drove the cart toward Tang Family Village. The village was far from Hepingzi Road, and even by cart, it would take over an hour to get there.
The Fan family didn’t own a cart, so Fan Jing didn’t know how to drive one. Riding on Hu Dasan’s donkey cart, he quietly watched him drive for about half an hour before speaking up: “Let me do it.”
Hu Dasan glanced at Fan Jing, half-believing, half-doubting. “You know how?”
Fan Jing said nothing, just took the reins.
Seeing Fan Jing’s calm face, which looked quite steady, Hu Dasan let go and handed the reins over.
Fan Jing flicked the rope, the donkey sped up a bit, and then he tried pulling the reins tighter, slowing the cart down.
“When did you learn to drive a cart? Even when you go up the Mountain…”
“Just now.”
Hu Dasan’s eyes went wide, and he grabbed the cart in alarm. “You really are a bold one!”
The two arrived at Tang Family Village and went straight to the house where the pig was to be slaughtered.
It was to celebrate an elder’s birthday, so the pig would be slaughtered for a banquet.
The host was an old customer of Hu Dasan’s from his days selling meat in The Town, so he had specially called him to do the slaughter.
“The water in the pot’s already boiling—finally you’re here!”
“Even if you were a bit late, the pig wouldn’t run away, look how anxious you are.”
After a few words, the host looked at Fan Jing, unfamiliar with his face, and asked about him.
“He’s my apprentice, Fan Jing,” Hu Dasan introduced.
Then he introduced the host to Fan Jing, saying his surname was Zhao.
Fan Jing greeted him, his eyes falling on a Bow hanging on the wall.
The Zhao host looked at Fan Jing with curiosity, then said to Hu Dasan some polite words about having an apprentice to help in the future.
He then invited the two inside for some tea and to rest for a while before getting ready to slaughter the pig outside.
As they entered the house, a few men in the courtyard who were there to hold down the pig whispered, “How come Butcher Hu took on a boy as an apprentice? The Liu Family in our village tried to get their son apprenticed to him, but he refused.”
“Who knows what he’s thinking? There aren’t many men willing to be butchers—takes guts to stab a hundred-pound animal. Think that young lad can handle a knife?”
“Maybe he just likes the look of him.”
“He’s been married for years—his grandson’s already grown, working odd jobs in The Town. Didn’t you know?”
“Never heard about it.”
The men muttered for a bit, then quieted down as the others came out after tea.
“Let’s get to work—finish early so we don’t hold everyone up,” Hu Dasan said, and those holding the pig headed for the pigsty.
“We’ve raised this pig for over a year—couldn’t bear to slaughter it before, but now it’s nice and fat,” the host boasted, proud of his pig, which had been raised especially for his mother’s birthday celebration.
Hu Dasan followed and took a look—the pig’s ears were as big as fans, its belly round and bulging. It truly was a big, fat pig.
Soon, a few men entered the pigsty, and after a ruckus of banging and shouting, they dragged the pig toward the door.
“Zhao Seven, did you feed your pig Rice or what? It’s as strong as an ox—must be close to three hundred jin!”
“Who knows, maybe!”
Fan Jing watched from a distance, keeping out of the way, as the pig was dragged out. He’d rarely seen such a huge pig.
Hu Dasan said to him, “In a bit, when we pin it on the Stool, just watch how I handle the knife.”
Fan Jing agreed, but as soon as he spoke, someone shouted, “Aiyo, damn it, it stepped on my foot!”
Two men fell down the steps, and with two fewer to hold it, the strong pig seized its chance, let out a howl, and broke free, tearing off.
“Damn it, why wasn’t the courtyard gate closed!”
The pig stumbled out of the Zhao Family’s yard, leaping into the fields like a runaway horse, running wild in the strong wind, grunting all the way.
Everyone slapped their thighs and rushed to give chase.
But once the pig was out of the pen and frightened, it was impossible to catch easily.
A quick-footed man managed to grab its ear, but couldn’t handle its strength and was thrown to the ground.
“My vegetable patch!”
The Zhao host was both angry and worried. If it had only trampled his own crops, that would be one thing, but what if it ruined someone else’s?
Fan Jing frowned. “Just kill it outside.”
The Zhao host fretted, “We can’t even catch it, how are we supposed to kill it?”
Fan Jing’s words were for Hu Dasan. If it were up to his own nature, he’d have shot the pig down with a Bow as soon as it ran out.
But before leaving, Kang He had warned him not to act rashly when working outside, to follow the host’s wishes, and not to make trouble.
Hu Dasan had slaughtered pigs for years and had seen this kind of thing more than once. He instinctively chased after it, thinking about how to get it back.
If he were younger and didn’t have back pain, he’d have jumped into the fields and dealt with the pig himself, even if it meant losing some pig’s blood.
But times had changed, and he no longer had that ability.
Remembering Fan Jing was with him today, he said, “Killing it outside is better than letting it ruin the crops! With the Autumn Harvest coming soon, Zhao Seven, let’s just kill it outside!”
The Zhao host quickly agreed, “Yes, yes! If you can kill it, do it outside!”
“Hurry, Jing, go!”
Fan Jing took the Bow from the wall and strode outside. “Everyone, get back!”
At his shout, the men chasing the pig in the fields paused, surprised at his commanding tone.
But before they could react, there was a swish—and that rampaging Mountain Boar took an arrow squarely in the hind leg, collapsing right into the vegetable patch.
Everyone was stunned.
Fan Jing was still standing far off on the field ridge—he’d shot from over ten zhang away, and yet his arrow had hit the running pig dead on.
The village farmers rarely saw such skill, and all were impressed.
Hu Dasan was the first to recover. “Quick, get that pig back before it wrecks any more crops!”
After a flurry of activity, the fat pig was finally brought back to the yard.
Hu Dasan drew his knife and, with a swift, precise motion, put the troublesome pig out of its misery.
A whole basin of pig’s blood was collected, and the Zhao host was beyond grateful.
Those who helped hold the pig were to dine at the host’s place, and if the pig had been killed outside, they would’ve lost the pig’s blood, and there’d have been no blood dishes for lunch.
Luckily, Fan Jing not only subdued the pig, but his Archery was so precise he hadn’t shot it in the neck.
For a while, everyone in the yard praised Fan Jing’s skill, completely forgetting their earlier doubts.
Fan Jing, whether praised or scolded, remained calm as ever. He pulled out the arrow, wiped off the blood, and hung the Bow back on the wall.
The Zhao family didn’t really know how to use a Bow, but Bows and knives were both for self-defense. Farmers sometimes hung them at home to scare off thieves.
Today, it had actually come in handy.
Hu Dasan was quite pleased with himself today.
Master and apprentice butchered the pig and had lunch at the host’s. Outside, the wind was fierce, and soon the sound of thunder could be heard.
Seeing that a heavy rain was coming, Hu Dasan didn’t even drink two cups of wine before urging an early return.
The Zhao family didn’t try to keep them, quickly settling the payment with Hu Dasan and also giving him a portion of meat.
Today, they were especially grateful to Fan Jing for stopping the pig. Otherwise, what should have been a happy event would have ended with the pig ruining the villagers’ crops and making enemies.
Usually, when a master brings an apprentice to learn the craft, the host just treats them to a meal, and it’s normal not to give the apprentice money or anything. But today, they gave Fan Jing a nice piece of meat.
On the way back, Hu Dasan, after two bowls of wine, was worse at driving the cart than Fan Jing, so Fan Jing took over.
They hadn’t even left the main road when the wind and rain hit. By the time they reached the village, both were soaked to the bone.
Fan Jing first dropped Hu Dasan off at the Hu Family. Seeing how heavy the rain was, Hu Dasan and Qiao Fulang called for him to wait out the storm.
But Fan Jing knew what the house would be like in the rain and wanted to hurry home to help, so he refused, not even bothering with a straw hat or umbrella, and set off for home.
The rain was like a mountain mist, making it hard to see the way.
From afar, Fan Jing saw a figure ahead, oddly familiar. As he got closer, he saw it was none other than Kang He.
He unconsciously quickened his pace to meet him.
Kang He was wearing a raincoat and a bamboo hat, coming out to meet him. He had meant to check at Hu Dasan’s place, thinking Fan Jing would go there first if he returned.
But coming out, he saw Fan Jing, drenched and dripping. “Why didn’t you wait out the rain at Uncle Hu’s?”
As he spoke, he took off his own raincoat to put on Fan Jing, but Fan Jing stopped his hands. “I’m already soaked anyway.”
Kang He wouldn’t listen, firmly putting the raincoat on him, grabbing his cold hands, and hurrying home together. “Did you get caught in the rain on the way back?”
Fan Jing nodded. He didn’t know what Kang He had done, but his hands were warm.
“Just unlucky, I guess—went out and got caught by this weather. This morning, I thought it was nice and cool with the breeze and no sun.”
Fan Jing asked, “Did the house leak?”
“It leaked badly. I spent all afternoon fixing it. I patched up the worst spots, so it’s a bit better now, but there are still some leaks—just dripping, not too bad. I’ve got buckets catching it.”
Fan Jing had expected as much. In previous Summer Months, whenever it rained hard while he was on the Mountain, he’d worry about the thatched roof at home not holding up to the wind and rain.
But at least Kang He was home this time.
Back home, both were soaked through.
Chen Shi called out for them to heat water for a bath, so they wouldn’t catch cold. Even though it wasn’t cold in the Summer Month, getting drenched like that was an easy way to get sick.
Fan Jing gave the piece of meat from the host to Chen Shi. The family was delighted to see that just by going out to help slaughter a pig, he’d brought back a big piece of meat.
The rush and discomfort of a rainy day were quickly forgotten.
Kang He and Fan Jing carried water to the Bathhouse and washed up, changing into clean clothes. Their whole bodies felt relaxed.
Thinking about how Fan Jing had been out in the rain, and knowing the young man ran cold, Kang He even heated an extra bucket of water for him to soak his feet.
As he dried Fan Jing’s hair, watching the water streaming off the eaves outside and listening to the bucket dripping, Kang He said, “In the Summer Month, you hope for rain to cool things off, but when the house turns into a Water Curtain Cave, it’s not pleasant at all.”
“We need to save up some silver. Even if we can’t build a new house, we should at least repair this old Clay House.”
This year hadn’t had much rain, and the two of them were often up the Mountain, so they rarely encountered a downpour at home.
There had been a few quick showers before, but they came and went so fast that the house barely leaked, and Kang He hadn’t thought much of it.
But this time, with a big wind and heavy rain that lasted a long time, he realized how troublesome it really was.
Fan Jing was used to it by now, but that didn’t mean he didn’t wish for a comfortable, dry house during rain or snow.
After all, people lived in houses to keep out the wind and rain. If the roof couldn’t keep out the rain, what kind of house was it?
Every time the roof leaked, the whole family would curse and swear that they’d borrow money if they had to just to fix it up. But once the rain stopped, they’d forget about it.
Repairing a house wasn’t a small expense, and it wasn’t easy to come up with the money.
Hearing Kang He’s words, Fan Jing said, “After the Autumn Harvest, if we have a little extra, let’s talk to Father about fixing it up.”
Kang He knew that with just a few mu of land, there wouldn’t be much left over, so he said, “It’s good to have the idea, but there’s no rush. As long as we can fix it up before next Summer Month, that’s good enough.”
“We’ll replace the thatched roof with tiles then.”
Fan Jing agreed.
Kang He rubbed Fan Jing’s head, then asked about how things had gone with the pig slaughtering.
Fan Jing replied, “I know how to slaughter pigs. Nothing new, just went along for the experience.” He told Kang He about the pig escaping at the Zhao house.
Kang He laughed, “How could those people be so unreliable? I thought only Big Brother Xin was like that. If you hadn’t stopped that pig, Zhao’s pig would have harvested Tang Family Village’s crops early, and the villagers would have come with sticks to thank you. No wonder the host gave you such a big piece of meat—if you bought it in The Town, it’d cost at least a few dozen coins.”
Fan Jing chuckled softly. He wasn’t one to talk about such things with others, but he was happy to share them with Kang He.