Chapter 201: The Pig Slaughter Feast

Zhou Cheng’s movements grew increasingly practiced, making it a pleasure to watch.

Soon, he had gutted the pig completely, placing all the offal in a large basin—he ended up with quite a lot. Some people began cleaning the pig intestines, cutting an opening and turning the inner wall inside out, then scraping away the residue clinging to it.

If this were modern times, someone would probably be pouring flour inside and kneading it around to remove the smell. After thoroughly washing the inner wall, they’d flip it back and fill it with water for another rinse, then rub salt inside and out for a final clean.

But in this era, flour is fine grain!

Who’d dare waste grain like that? They’d probably get beaten to death.

So, no one should expect the villagers to get the intestines all that clean—the taste was bound to linger a bit. Zhou Yimin had no interest in this kind of pig offal; maybe he just couldn’t get over the psychological hurdle.

Honestly, pig intestines could be pretty tasty, like stir-fried with pickled cabbage or braised.

“Hey! Wash that properly,” someone shouted.

“Why don’t you come do it, then?”

Those who don’t work have the most to say—unbelievable.

The old party secretary came over and started shooing people away. “What? None of you have work to do? The feast won’t be ready for a while yet.”

In many places, pig slaughter feasts are a tradition, especially in the countryside, both north and south.

Still, pig feasts in the past were different from now. The pigs used to belong to the household; now they’re collective property. In the past, such feasts were usually held just before the New Year, so they were also called New Year Pig Feasts.

In some regions, when a household slaughtered a pig, the entire village was invited to help. Everyone came—old folks, kids, relatives, and friends. The feast would take over ten tables, with guests coming and going all day, lively and festive.

In other areas, the pig feast featured six signature dishes: “First-Cut Dish,” “Pig-Slaughter Dish,” “White Triumvirate,” “Kung Pao Tendons,” “Old Cured Meat,” and “Pig Trotters with Greens.”

The “First-Cut Dish” was made with pig’s blood curd and fresh tofu with coriander. The “Pig-Slaughter Dish” had liver, loin, and kidney, seasoned with medicinal herbs.

The “White Triumvirate” was a platter of pork belly, flour sausage, and pig stomach. “Kung Pao Tendons” required precise technique—taken from the two tendons near the spine, deep-fried just right, and stir-fried in a specific wok.

…

Thinking about the feast filled everyone with energy again.

A large group of people left the slaughter scene and went to harvest wheat. Today’s task was about the same as yesterday.

Yesterday, a threshing machine was delivered to the commune and instantly drew a crowd. After hearing Chen Hua’s description, the commune officials had someone cut some wheat to test it out.

The results surprised them.

This kind of machine was genuinely useful.

They immediately reported it to the higher-ups. And just like that, Zhoujiazhuang became a “star village” once again and caught everyone’s attention.

Truth be told, Zhou Yimin had hoped Zhoujiazhuang could quietly make a fortune, but it was clearly hard to stay low-key.

Last night, the threshing machine was transported from Hongxing Commune overnight. The authorities had taken it seriously—they planned to dismantle and replicate it.

This morning, two people from Hongxing Commune arrived, including Chen Hua from yesterday.

From the pleased expression on Chen Hua’s face, it was clear he had gained a lot from this.

“Comrade Yimin, come have a smoke,” he offered.

This time, it was Chen Hua offering the cigarette to Zhou Yimin.

He owed Zhou Yimin a big favor now.

Though Zhou Yimin didn’t smoke, he still accepted it with a smile and exchanged a few pleasantries. Of course, he didn’t neglect the other visitor either.

“Brother Chen, you two take your time chatting. I’ve got work to get to.”

He’d promised Director Ding he’d go to the factory today.

“Alright! Don’t let us keep you.”

When Zhou Yimin returned to the steel factory, the first person he bumped into was the driver, Li Fu.

Li Fu came over and shared some gossip about one of the leaders.

In truth, it wasn’t particularly useful to Zhou Yimin, but he still said, “Thanks, Brother Li!”

“Comrade Yimin, if I hear anything else, I’ll let you know,” Li Fu replied.

He wanted to get on Zhou Yimin’s good side.

As a driver for the leadership, he had seen a thing or two and had a decent sense for people.

Seeing Zhou Yimin present that big seafood gift box to Director Ding, he guessed Zhou Yimin wasn’t ordinary. Building a good relationship with someone like that could only be beneficial.

Besides all that, Zhou Yimin had already invented two or three products for the steel factory. His role was rather unique—even Factory Director Hu valued him greatly.

Clearly, Zhou Yimin had a promising future. It was only wise to establish a connection early on.

And aside from that—

Zhou Yimin was the team lead in the Procurement Department, a juicy position! In this kind of economic climate, being friendly with someone like that could at least keep you fed.

So, Li Fu had made up his mind: he’d be Zhou Yimin’s “eyes and ears.”

Zhou Yimin wasn’t clueless—he picked up on the subtext.

He nodded. “Brother Li, if you ever need supplies, just come to me.”

Naturally, Zhou Yimin was happy to accept Li Fu’s goodwill. More friends meant more paths to take—these people might come in handy someday.

“Great!”

Hearing that, Li Fu let out a breath and looked visibly pleased.

Zhou Yimin headed to Wang Weimin’s office.

This used to be Section Chief Zheng’s office, but Wang Weimin had finally gotten what he wanted.

As for Section Chief Zheng—he’d been transferred. Lately, he seemed pretty busy and hadn’t even had time to invite Zhou Yimin or Wang Weimin out to eat.

When he left, he had said he’d treat them to a meal, especially Zhou Yimin. Even after leaving, he still hoped to maintain their friendship.

Inside, Wang Weimin was “loafing around.”

Honestly, as a Section Chief, there wasn’t much work to do. He didn’t have to go out for procurement; most days, he just handled some documents, read the paper, and attended a few meetings.

Life was easy.

“Well, look who it is!” Section Chief Wang said jokingly when he saw Zhou Yimin walk in.

Zhou Yimin rolled his eyes. “Still so relaxed, Chief.”

If he had a pretty secretary in here, it’d be straight out of a movie.

Zhou Yimin placed a canister of tea on the desk—it was some Tieguanyin he’d bought from the supermarket in his mind, about half a jin.

As soon as Wang Weimin saw it, he picked it up.

“Yimin! You really care about your old pal Wang. A Section Chief drinking low-grade leaf tea—it’s just not right!” Wang Weimin said, clearly delighted.

That Tieguanyin looked premium.

He couldn’t help but wonder—was this the kind of tea supplied only to top officials?

“Low-grade isn’t bad either,” Zhou Yimin replied with a smile.

He didn’t have high standards for tea. In his previous life, he’d even drunk tea dust—not far off from the low-grade stuff.

Speaking of tea, Zhou Yimin suddenly missed milk tea from modern times.

(End of chapter)