Husband, Let Me Touch Your Abs - Chapter 45

The new year begins, and everything feels renewed.

 

Today is the thirtieth day of the twelfth lunar month, marking the eve of the Lunar New Year. It’s also the first New Year Lu Yao has celebrated since crossing over.

 

Lu Yao got up early in the morning and got busy. With a new iron pot in the house, cooking became much easier. Dishes that couldn’t be stir-fried before could now be made. This New Year, he planned to show off his cooking skills and impress the Zhao siblings!

 

For breakfast, he made a simple dish of stir-fried pork intestines. Although there were no green peppers to pair with it, the intestines were fried in plenty of oil until crispy and aromatic, completely different from the braised ones made before.

 

Zhao Xiaonian and Zhao Xiaodou hesitated to pick up the pork intestines with their chopsticks, knowing intestines were used to hold waste, which gave them a psychological block.

 

But seeing their elder brother and sister-in-law eating so happily, they couldn’t help but swallow their saliva.

 

“Maybe just one bite?”

 

Zhao Xiaonian tried picking up a piece, held his breath, and put it in his mouth to chew. “Huh? It actually tastes pretty good.”

 

Hearing this, Zhao Xiaodou immediately grabbed a piece. Not only was it not smelly, but it was also incredibly delicious! The two kids quickly devoured it.

 

Zhao Beichuan commented, “Not smelly anymore?”

 

The two shook their heads simultaneously. “Not smelly, it’s delicious!”

 

Lu Yao couldn’t help but laugh. These two kids were too amusing.

 

After breakfast, it was time to tidy up the house. Since the new house had just been built, there wasn’t much to clean. Zhao Beichuan took the two kids to sweep with brooms, quickly finishing the task.

 

Lu Yao brought frozen meat and vegetables indoors to defrost. He planned to make eight dishes for the New Year’s dinner, symbolizing prosperity for the coming year.

 

The eight dishes were: braised pork, scallion-braised ribs, chicken stewed with mushrooms, cabbage with wood ear mushrooms, cold pork head meat, stir-fried bean sprouts with eggs, sliced sausage, and sweet candied radish.

 

The sausages had been prepared the night before, using pig intestines given by a restaurant owner. After soaking, cleaning, and removing excess fat, the intestines turned into thin casings. The ground pork was seasoned with salt, minced ginger, and scallions, then stuffed into the casings using a funnel.

 

The sausages were boiled for fifteen minutes, with small holes pricked to prevent them from bursting. Once cooked and cooled, they were ready to eat. Although not as good as store-bought ones from his previous life, they were considered a delicacy in this food-scarce era.

 

The two kids ate one sausage as soon as they were made last night. Seeing they wanted more, Lu Yao quickly hid the remaining two in the cupboard—he didn’t want to run out before New Year’s Day.

 

The ribs were already stewing in a clay pot, and the stir-fry ingredients were prepped to cook fresh later. Dumpling filling was also prepared for wrapping in the afternoon. With most of the kitchen work done, Lu Yao took out red paper to cut window decorations.

 

He had learned paper-cutting in elementary school, and it was impressive that he hadn’t forgotten after all these years. He cut out several “Spring” characters and a pair of slightly more intricate “Four Seasons Peace” patterns to paste on the doors and windows with glue.

 

Xiaonian and Xiaodou were fascinated by the paper-cuts. “Sister-in-law, what are these?”

 

“These are spring flowers, also called Spring Festival decorations during the New Year.”

 

“They’re so pretty! Can you teach us how to cut them?”

 

“Sure.” Lu Yao handed them two pieces of red paper and showed them how to fold and cut step by step.

 

The children learned earnestly, and after cutting their own designs, they called Zhao Beichuan to help paste them on the doors.

 

Neighbor Tian Dazhuang came over to watch. He wore a new jacket, a cotton hat, and was sucking on a piece of candy. Sniffling, he asked, “Xiaonian, what are these on your house?”

 

“We cut spring flowers. Aren’t they pretty?”

 

“Really nice. Can you give me one?”

 

“No way. We don’t even have enough for our house!”

 

Tian Dazhuang pouted. “Fine, I don’t want it anyway. I won’t play with you anymore.” He hopped away toward the village.

 

Passing the Song family’s house, he saw Song Ping playing in the snow in the yard.

 

Tian Dazhuang hesitated before calling out, “Song Ping, what are you doing?”

 

Hearing the voice, Song Ping looked up but said nothing.

 

“I heard your mom is having a baby brother for you,” Tian Dazhuang teased.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Once your brother is born, your mom won’t care about you anymore.”

 

Song Ping sneered indifferently, “Who needs her care? Grandma said he’s sick and told me to stay away from him.”

 

“What kind of sickness?” Tian Dazhuang asked, wiping his nose.

 

“I don’t know. Stop asking.”

 

“Song Ping!” Song Widow suddenly called from the yard.

 

Tian Dazhuang jumped in fright and ran home. Song Ping hesitated before walking back inside.

 

“It’s so cold outside; don’t catch a chill.” Song Widow brushed the snow off his clothes, but Song Ping dodged away awkwardly and darted into Madam Song’s room.

 

The widow sighed deeply, forcing a stiff smile as he returned to the kitchen to continue cooking.

 

The Song family had also bought a pound of pork for dumplings this year. The widow finely chopped the meat filling and kneaded the dough, slowly wrapping each dumpling.

 

Every dumpling was crafted beautifully, like carved flowers, with neat and tidy folds. Madam Song couldn’t help muttering, “They’ll just be boiled and eaten. Why bother making them so fancy?”

 

The widow pretended not to hear, humming softly as he carefully folded each one. It was the New Year, and he was happy.

 

–

 

By the time evening approached, it was already dark. Someone in the village set off a few firecrackers, shaking the snow off rooftops.

 

Lu Yao lit all the oil lamps in the house, making it bright and warm.

 

“Sister-in-law, when are we eating dumplings?” the kids asked, hungry.

 

“When your brother gets back.”

 

Zhao Beichuan had gone to pay respects at their family graves, a local tradition on Lunar New Year’s Eve to invite deceased ancestors back home for the reunion dinner.

 

The graves were on North Mountain, where two lonely mounds stood amidst a snowy pine forest. Unlike larger families with sprawling ancestral plots, the Zhao family, being outsiders, only had these two graves.

 

Carrying incense and candles, Zhao Beichuan cleared the snow, lit the lamp, and placed incense sticks in front of the graves.

 

“Father, Mother, your son is here to visit you.

 

“I’ve gotten married to a virtuous husband, built a new house, and bought a mule cart. Life is getting better. Xiaonian and Xiaodou are growing up well. Everything at home is good, so don’t worry anymore.”

 

He sat in the snow, talking about the family’s affairs for a long time. When the incense burned low, he knelt and bowed three times.

 

“Father, Mother, please come home for dinner with me!”

 

The echo of his voice carried through the mountain, joined by others calling for their ancestors to return. The chorus formed an ancient melody, a testament to unbroken tradition.

 

Covered in snow, Zhao Beichuan returned home and left the door open. On Lunar New Year’s Eve, doors must remain open to welcome the ancestors inside.

 

“Elder brother’s back! Sister-in-law, time to cook the dumplings!”

 

Lu Yao boiled water and dropped the plump dumplings into the pot. They floated up after a few rolls in the boiling water.

 

“Xiaonian, set the table!”

 

“Okay!” Xiaonian arranged the dishes on the small kang table.

 

Xiaodou wanted to help but was stopped by Xiaonian. “Go play. Don’t get in the way.”

 

Upset, the little one ran to Lu Yao. “Sister-in-law, she won’t let me carry the dishes.”

 

“She’s afraid you’ll get burned. Go wash your hands and wait to eat.”

 

Zhao Beichuan entered the room, stomping the snow off his boots. “Are the dumplings ready?”

 

“Almost. Come warm up by the fire.” Lu Yao moved a wooden stool for him by the stove and warmed his ears with his hands.

 

“Snow deep on the mountain?”

 

“More than a foot, nearly up to the knees.”

 

“Good thing the kids didn’t go. They wouldn’t have made it.”

 

Zhao Beichuan nodded. “Heavy snow is good. Fewer pests next year, and the crops will grow well.”

 

“I know. A good snow promises a bumper harvest.”

 

“Does auspicious snow herald a good year? That’s right! Auspicious snow heralds a good year!” Zhao Beichuan wrapped his arms around Lu Yao’s waist, burying his face against his stomach and nuzzling affectionately.

 

The dumplings in the pot were ready, and Lu Yao quickly pushed him away to scoop them out.

 

The first bowl couldn’t be eaten; it had to be placed on the windowsill as an offering to the ancestors. Only the second bowl could be served at the table.

 

The chicken and pork ribs had been stewing in a clay pot and were kept warm, while the stir-fry dishes were ready within minutes. The most time-consuming dish was the caramelized radishes.

 

First, the radishes had to be coated in flour and deep-fried until golden. Then sugar was melted in a pan until it formed dense bubbles. As soon as this happened, the heat was removed, and the fried radishes were quickly tossed in the melted sugar until evenly coated.

 

Once all the dishes were ready, the four family members picked up their chopsticks and started eating.

 

—

 

“Why do these dumplings taste funny?” Song Changshun took a bite, frowned, and swallowed.

 

Song Laotai (Grandmother Song) snapped, “Funny taste? Stop being so picky and eat your food.”

 

Sitting beside them, Widow Song remained silent, quietly eating his cabbage.

 

Since it was New Year’s, the old lady had allowed him to sit at the table. Seeing that he wasn’t touching the dumplings, she picked one up and placed it in his bowl. “Eat something. It’ll strengthen you.”

 

“I’m not hungry,” he replied.

 

The old lady assumed he must have sneaked a bite earlier and paid it no mind. She picked up a dumpling and ate it herself, chewing and sighing contentedly, “Ah, meat dumplings are the best. So delicious!”

 

Song Ping was eating voraciously. It had been ages since the family had meat, and he was ravenous, splitting open the dumplings to eat only the filling while tossing the dough wrappers into the old lady’s bowl.

 

Although Song Changshun ate a few, he couldn’t shake the odd taste and soon put down his chopsticks.

 

Widow Song, raised his head and urged him, “Have a few more. It’s New Year’s—eat your fill.”

 

Perhaps because of his advanced pregnancy, the flickering candlelight made his complexion look healthier than usual. He had even tidied up, wearing clean clothes and combing his hair, making him look more presentable.

 

Feeling something stir in his heart, Song Changshun sat back down and reached under the table to grope the widow’s thigh. “Eat more; you’ll need the strength later tonight.”

 

Widow Song, understanding his intentions, blushed and lowered his head with a small smile, picking up his chopsticks to serve him more dumplings.

 

The pot of dumplings was soon emptied by the Song family.

 

After the meal, Widow did something unusual—he didn’t clean the table or do the dishes but went straight to the west room.

 

The old lady grumbled and got up to tidy the table. “Ugh—why does my stomach hurt all of a sudden?”

 

“My stomach hurts too, Grandma,” Song Ping groaned, clutching his belly.

 

“Probably too much rich food. Might give us all diarrhea soon.”

 

But as Song Ping began crying in pain, writhing on the kang, the old lady realized something was seriously wrong and hurriedly called for her husband. To her horror, the old man was already foaming at the mouth.

 

In the west room, Widow Song sat on the kang, gently stroking his belly.

 

Song Changshun pushed the door open and entered. “Something we ate must have been bad—my stomach is killing me.”

 

Widow covered his mouth and chuckled softly.

 

“Why are you laughing?” Song Changshun found his behavior increasingly odd. Then again, Widow had been acting strangely ever since his return.

 

“Nothing. I’m just happy—it’s New Year, after all.”

 

Thinking nothing of it, Song Changshun wrapped his arms around him. “It’s been a while since we slept together. Let me take care of you tonight.”

 

Widow Song didn’t resist. He obediently removed his clothes, lay beside him, and continued smiling as he looked at him.

 

“Why do you keep smiling?” Song Changshun frowned. It was starting to give him goosebumps.

 

“Does your stomach still hurt?”

 

That reminder brought the pain back in full force—it felt like being stabbed with a knife. Song Changshun doubled over, groaning and breaking out in a cold sweat.

 

“The dumplings… You put something in the dumplings!”

 

Widow Song stood up, still smiling. “Did they taste good?”

 

“You! You poisonous harlot! Are you trying to kill us all? Song Ping is your own son!”

 

“If we’re all going to die, it’s better for him to come with us than to live and suffer.”

 

“Aaaah!!! It hurts so much! Cao Qing, you—you wretch! Someone help! Help!”

 

Widow Song burst into hysterical laughter. “Haha! I’m the wretch? Your entire family deserves this! I’m dying anyway, so you’re all coming with me!”

 

Song Changshun clawed his way toward the door, as if escaping would save him.

 

“Husband, where are you going?” Widow Song followed him like a ghost demanding retribution.

 

“Stay away from me…” Foam dribbled from Song Changshun’s mouth as he weakly flailed his arms. He had no strength left and was soon pinned to the floor.

 

Then, suddenly, he felt a chill below his waist as his pants were yanked down.

 

“You… What are you doing…?”

 

Widow Song knelt with scissors in hand. “Don’t be afraid. It’ll all be over soon. After my revenge, I’ll come join you.”

 

“Ahhhh!” A scream pierced the night, and Song Changshun fell silent.

 

Widow Song dressed himself calmly, sat quietly on the kang for a while, and then retrieved a jar of rapeseed oil from the kitchen. He headed toward the Zhao family’s home not far away.

 

His vengeance wasn’t over. He still had a score to settle with Lu Yao and Lin Daman. If Lin hadn’t led people to catch him in the act back then, he wouldn’t have ended up in this situation.

 

And Lu Yao—just thinking of his name made Cao Qing gnash his teeth in hatred. If not for Lu Yao, Zhao Beichuan would have been his! He wouldn’t have had to settle for that beast Song Changshun!

 

It was all their fault. All their fault. All their fault!

 

Cao Qing had indeed gone mad. Only one thought remained in his mind: since he wasn’t going to live, they all had to burn with him.

 

On New Year’s Eve, while families were joyfully reuniting, no one noticed a shadow sneaking into the Zhao family’s courtyard. Cao Qing poured the oil over a pile of firewood stacked by the house.

 

Sparks struck from flint ignited the wood, and flames roared to life.

 

Cao Qing stood and watched the fire for a while before heading to Lin Daman’s house to do the same. Then, he slipped away.

 

—

 

In the back yard, Lin Daman was the first to notice the fire. Waking to the smell of burning, he opened his eyes and saw faint firelight outside.

 

Throwing on a coat, he got up to investigate. The kitchen was a single-room structure, and the flames had already spread inside.

 

“Fire! Help! There’s a fire!”

 

He quickly woke his children. “Xiaochun! Xiaodong! Get up!”

 

In the front house, Lu Yao was jolted awake by the commotion. Sniffing the air, he caught a strong smell of smoke and shook the person beside him. “Beichuan, wake up! I think there’s a fire!”

 

Zhao Beichuan sprang up, threw on a padded coat, and rushed outside. Opening the door, his pupils shrank in horror—the pile of firewood on the west side of the house was ablaze, flames climbing high into the sky and racing toward the roof!

 

“Get up! The house is on fire!”

 

Lu Yao grabbed their two children. With no time to dress them, he shoved padded coats and pants into their arms and pushed them outside. “Hurry! Put these on outside!”

 

Xiao Nian and Xiao Dou ran out, clutching their coats, terrified. They saw their eldest brother shoveling snow to douse the flames, but it was futile against the spreading inferno. The flames quickly engulfed the thatched roof.

 

Zhao Beichuan abandoned the shovel and dashed inside. The grain in the west room hadn’t been taken out yet!

 

Smoke filled the house as Lu Yao carried out bedding and clothes, even dragging out the kang mats and tossing them into the yard.

 

The neighbors, awakened by the commotion, dressed quickly and came to help extinguish the fire.

 

But in the frozen winter, the river was iced over, and the ground was hard. The water in their home’s tanks wasn’t enough to fight such a large blaze.

 

Everyone stood helplessly in the courtyard.

 

Zhao Beichuan kicked in the west room’s window, tossing out sacks of grain one by one. As the smoke thickened, choking him and blinding his vision, he noticed more sacks on the kang and moved toward them. But just then, the flames consumed the entire west room.

 

“Zhao Beichuan!” Lu Yao screamed in fright and lunged toward the window.

 

The man inside immediately leaped out, grabbing him and rolling into the yard. Zhao Beichuan’s clothes were on fire, his hair was singed, and both his hands were covered in blistering burns.

 

A gust of cold wind swept through, and the raging flames instantly engulfed the entire house.

 

“Elder Brother… ah… Sister-in-law… our house is gone.” The two children cried loudly, terrified.

 

There’s nothing more heartbreaking than watching the house you painstakingly built being burned to ashes.

 

Lu Yao felt as though his heart was bleeding. Overcome with grief, he bit down hard on his lip, tears streaming uncontrollably down his face.

 

Zhao Beichuan’s eyes also reddened, but he forced back his tears. He was a man, the backbone of the family, and no matter what happened, he had to hold on.

 

“Did we get everything out of the house?”

 

“The chest was too heavy; I couldn’t move it.”

 

Zhao Beichuan patted him on the back reassuringly. “It’s okay. We’ll make another one in the future.”

 

“Our… our house is gone.”

 

“It’s okay. Hey! It’s okay. We’ll build another one!”