Because Zheng Changhe had often been invited over for pig-butchering soup, he invited quite a few people himself this time. As luck would have it, they were all busy. Only the Zhang family's father and son were there for the meal. Even Zhao San was occupied and didn't have time to come eat.
After a happy meal, the butcher, along with Zhang Dashuan and his son, took their leave.
Juhua waited until the butcher, carrying his shoulder pole and cuts of meat, was far in the distance before she came out into the courtyard. Staring at the red bloodstains on the ground, she felt the yard seemed much more empty and quiet, as if something were missing. And it was. Without the grunting of the big black pig, a bit of life had gone out of the place. Still, the two little pigs were also growing quickly. Nowadays, they squealed nonstop, demanding food all day long.
