Chapter 33: A Fragrance That Stirs the Heart

First, set the dough for the steamed buns.

Taking advantage of the time, Duan Chengliang took out the fatty pork he had bought to render into lard. Having eaten ribbon fish for two days straight, he didn't want any more fish today. He wanted meat—at the very least, a plate of cabbage stir-fried with pork cracklings.

Because he had spent his time since returning home inside his secret space—building a chicken coop and digging a fish pond—it was already pitch black outside. Cooking at this hour meant he was one of the latest to eat in the courtyard.

Across the way, the Yan Bugui family had already finished their meal. At that moment, Yang Ruihua was busy clearing the bowls and chopsticks. As she worked, she said to Yan Bugui, "Why is Duan Chengliang’s eating schedule so strange? When it’s time to eat, there’s no movement from his room, and not a smell to be found. Yet at night, when everyone else is already asleep, he makes such a fuss."

Yan Bugui replied, "He’s a bachelor. When one person is full, the whole family is fed. He’s not hungry, so he’s too lazy to move, and only thinks about cooking when his stomach is growling. You could say he has no discipline in his life. Mostly, it's because there’s no adult in his home to teach him."

No sooner had he finished speaking than a sound of running footsteps echoed from outside, followed by a knock at the door.

"Third Uncle, it’s me, Guangtian. My dad and the First Uncle want you to come to the First Uncle’s place in the middle courtyard. They have something to discuss with you."

Yan Bugui stood up, opened the door, and waved at Liu Guangtian. "Alright, I understand. Go back and tell them I’ll be there immediately."

Liu Guangtian scampered back to the middle courtyard to deliver the message. Yan Bugui returned inside and draped his cotton-padded jacket over his shoulders.

"You lot clean up and get to bed quickly. Early to bed, early to rise, keeps the spirit high. I’m going to see what Old Yi wants."

As he spoke, he couldn't help but twitch his nose. *Hmm? That smells delicious. Whose house is rendering lard?*

Once he smelled it, the others in the room couldn't sit still either. Yan Jiefang, who had been doing his homework, stood up, ready to run out into the courtyard.

He was grabbed by Yan Bugui at the door. "Where are you going? Get back to your homework!"

"Dad, let go! Let me see whose house is rendering lard. Maybe I can go get some cracklings to eat."

Hearing this, Yan Bugui chuckled, loosened his grip, and gave him a smack on the backside. "Go on then—it’s across the way, at Duan Chengliang’s. If you’re capable, fill your belly before you come back."

Yang Ruihua chimed in, "Husband, Duan Chengliang has been living quite well these past two days. Not only is he stewing fish every day, but now he’s even eating pork. What is he doing? Is he planning to live through the year or not?"

Yan Bugui’s small eyes darted around. He curled his lip and said, "That kid has money in his hands. Eating a bit of fish and meat won't make him poor. But if he eats like this every day, he’ll eventually squander the money his late uncle left him, and then he’ll know what it’s like to suffer. If you don't know how to budget and live extravagantly, you aren't someone who knows how to keep a household."

He then said to Yan Jiefang, "When I get back from talking to the First Uncle, I’ll see if you managed to get any cracklings into your mouth."

Yan Jiecheng also came out from the inner room and told Yan Jiefang, "Just take a bowl with you. Duan Chengliang is easy to talk to. Just tell him you’re craving it and borrow some cracklings to stir-fry with your cabbage. Tell him we’ll pay him back whenever our family renders lard."

As he said this, he thought to himself that, as far as he could remember, their family hadn't rendered lard in years, so if Duan was counting on them to pay him back, he’d be waiting a long time.

Yan Bugui and Yan Jiefang—who was holding a bowl—stepped out together. Yan Bugui headed through the passageway to the middle courtyard, while Yan Jiefang, drooling, knocked on Duan Chengliang’s door.

"Who is it?"

"Duan Chengliang, it’s me, Yan Jiefang. Open up, quick!"

Duan Chengliang had just finished separating the golden-brown cracklings and pouring the lard into a small bowl. He left a little rendered fat in the bottom of the wok, planning to grab a head of cabbage from the cellar out back, chop it up, and start stir-frying.

Hearing Yan Jiefang knocking at the door, Duan Chengliang frowned. He whisked the bowl of lard and the cracklings away into his secret space.

Then, he stood up and opened the door. He was surprised to see Yan Jiefang holding an empty bowl with an excited look on his face. Seeing the door open, the boy lowered his head, trying to barge straight into the room.

Duan Chengliang grabbed him by the back of his collar. "Hey, kid, what are you doing? Do you know any manners? Trying to barge into someone’s room without even asking—what’s the meaning of this?"

"Duan Chengliang, let go! Let me see how much crackling you made. Let me taste how your cooking is!"

"Who are you? You barge in as soon as the door opens, wanting to see my cracklings and taste my food. Did I say you could come in?"

Yan Jiefang was as scrawny as a chick. Held by the collar, he flailed his arms and legs, but he couldn't break free. Instead, he was dragged out of the room by Duan Chengliang and pushed into the courtyard. Duan Chengliang then turned back, entered his room, and slammed the door shut.

Yan Jiefang stood in the courtyard, holding his bowl, completely dumbfounded. He stared at the shut door, feeling a sense of shock: *Why is Duan Chengliang being so difficult? Before, whenever I asked, he never refused.*

He wanted to knock again, but thinking of the strength Duan Chengliang had shown when grabbing his collar—leaving his body completely helpless—he felt a bit timid. He decided to just go home and get someone else.

Watching Yan Jiefang return with an empty bowl, Yan Jiecheng asked curiously, "What’s wrong? Was it not Duan Chengliang rendering lard?"

"It was him! But he wouldn't even let me in the door. He threw me right out of the room."

"What? Duan Chengliang threw you out? No way. You must be talking about 'Silly Pillar'—that doesn't sound like Duan Chengliang. You didn't go to the wrong door and find yourself at Silly Pillar's place in the middle courtyard, did you?"

Yan Jiecheng laughed at his own joke, then looked at the empty bowl in Yan Jiefang’s hand. "Wait, don't tell me you just grabbed it and ate it all with your hands?"

Yan Jiefang thrust the bowl toward Yan Jiecheng. "Here, if you don't believe me, go find him yourself."

Yan Jiecheng took the bowl and curled his lip in a sneer. "What use are you? When we go to borrow things from Duan Chengliang, he should be happy. Otherwise, as a coal yard loader who’s always covered in dust and wearing a tattered cotton coat, who would pay any attention to him? You just wait, I’m going over there, and I’m going to get some to eat."

Duan Chengliang had just placed the pot of two-flour steamed buns he had prepared onto the stove by the *kang* when he heard another knock.

He walked over and opened the door to see Yan Jiecheng holding a very familiar-looking bowl.

*What is this? Are they poking a hornet's nest?* Duan Chengliang wondered. *Why is this family across the way so restless?*

Yan Jiecheng sneered and said to Duan Chengliang, "Give me half of the cracklings you rendered. My mom’s cooking lacks any oil, and I’ve got no energy. I’m going to take them back, stir-fry some cabbage, and have a good meal. Don't worry, when our family renders lard in a few days, we’ll pay you back."

Duan Chengliang shook his head. "No. To borrow things from someone, you first have to have some yourself, and second, you have to have enough. Since I have neither, how can I lend anything to you?"

*The nerve of this family,* he thought. *'Pay me back in a few days when we render lard.' Let me ask, does your family even know what pork tastes like? You don't even want to eat pork during the Lunar New Year, and you’re going to render lard to pay me back? Hmph.*

Yan Jiecheng frowned. "You don't have any? How is that possible? It smells so fragrant—that’s clearly lard rendering. You must have cracklings."

Duan Chengliang laughed. He asked Yan Jiecheng, "Have the courtyard uncles started monitoring whose house is rendering lard and who has cracklings? Did the neighborhood committee assign a new task? Whether I’m rendering lard or have cracklings, what business is it of yours? One after another, you’re so annoying. Get out of here, I don't have the patience for you."

Having said that, Duan Chengliang ignored the stunned Yan Jiecheng and shut the door in his face.