Chapter 217: The Chicks Have Hatched

The sharp-eyed old village secretary noticed a distinct pattern on one of the eggs and asked, “Yimin, do you think this egg is becoming a huozhuzi?”

Huozhuzi originated in Jinling. As early as the Xianfeng era of the Qing Dynasty, they were already popular in Nanjing.

Huozhuzi is a traditional nourishing delicacy of Jinling, a famous specialty of the Liuhe District in the city, and considered a type of Jinling street food.

In fact, huozhuzi refers to a fertilized egg that is on the verge of hatching into a chick but hasn’t fully developed. At that point, the embryo inside already shows signs of a head, wings, and feet—neither fully chick nor egg, this partially developed embryo is what’s known as huozhuzi.

The name “huozhuzi” comes from the traditional incubation process. At a certain stage, the developing embryo in the egg appears like a moving pearl under light, hence the name—live pearl.

Zhou Yimin took a look and replied, “That’s not a huozhuzi, that’s a mao dan.”

Mao dan, also known as feathered egg, chick egg, or embryo egg, appears in various regions of China. In Jiangsu and Zhejiang, it’s often called prosperity egg or lucky egg, while in southern Fujian, it’s referred to as chick fetus.

Mao dan isn’t only found in China—it’s also considered a traditional snack in Southeast Asian countries like Vietnam.

According to legend, mao dan even has a connection to Emperor Qianlong. It’s said that during a southern tour, he encountered an old woman who made this dish, which was then named “Chick Phoenix, Pearl of Fame.”

Some of the onlookers were confused. “Aren’t mao dan and huozhuzi the same thing?”

After all, most people had only ever heard of these things, never seen them. At a glance, many would simply assume the egg had gone bad and throw it away.

Zhou Yimin explained, “Mao dan is an egg in which the embryo dies inside the shell due to improper temperature, humidity, or bacterial infection during incubation—it’s a chick that failed to hatch. Huozhuzi, on the other hand, is a fertilized egg that’s about to develop into life but hasn’t yet fully formed. Usually at around twelve days into incubation, the process is artificially stopped, and at that point, the egg already shows traces of a head, wings, and feet.”

Both of these aren’t things the average person can accept. It’s like durian—people who like it, love it; people who don’t, feel sick just seeing it.

“Oh, so that’s how it is. I always thought they were the same,” a villager said in surprise.

Clearly, educated people like Zhou Yimin really do know more. Unlike himself—standing in front of Yimin, he realized how little he understood.

The old village secretary shot him a glare. “Told you all to study more, and you went off playing in the mud.”

Zhou Yimin continued, “Secretary, bring over the hens from the village and let them help care for the chicks. That’ll save us some trouble.”

The old secretary nodded. This was something he understood. “Alright, I’ll go catch them myself in a bit.”

Clearly, someone had to stay and watch over these chicks—they were an important village asset. Whether or not the village could improve its fortunes depended on this batch of vegetables.

After three days on the road, Daniu finally made it back to his village—Rongyi Village.

But to avoid being noticed with the food he was carrying, he didn’t take the main road. That path passed by many homes, and if anyone saw him, there was no way he’d be able to keep all fifty jin of grain.

So, for safety, he took the side roads. It was a longer route, but he had no choice.

Daniu moved cautiously, frequently checking his surroundings to make sure no one saw him.

A trip that should’ve taken just two or three minutes took nearly fifteen, but it was worth it. No one saw him, and he was able to bring back the food. With the heirloom they still had, he could probably trade for even more grain—enough to last them a year or more.

He didn’t knock. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. Four people were lying on the beds, unmoving. When they saw Daniu return, they only turned their heads.

A pale, skinny little girl immediately asked, “Third Brother, did you get the food from Second Sister’s place?”

She felt like if they didn’t get something to eat soon, she’d starve to death.

The girl was already eleven years old, but because she had been malnourished for so long, she looked like she was only seven or eight. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on her body—she looked like a gust of wind could blow her away.

“Don’t worry, Siniu, I got the food from Second Sister’s place. We finally have something to eat!” Daniu said excitedly.

A middle-aged woman, also pale and thin, looked unsure. “Daniu, are you serious?”

“Mom, of course I am. Look—I brought back a whole sack of grain.” Daniu pointed to the sack on his back.

Siniu couldn’t wait. Despite the discomfort from long-term hunger, she jumped up and rushed to the sack. As she opened it, golden yellow corn came into view—her eyes lit up with joy.

“Third Brother, all this is from Second Sister?”

That sack had at least forty or fifty jin of corn. In the past, when food wasn’t scarce, it wouldn’t have been so shocking. But now, with most of the country struggling to get enough to eat, this was a big deal.

The middle-aged woman couldn’t help but get up to take a closer look. She was stunned and quickly asked, “Daniu, you didn’t take all your second sister’s grain, did you?”

Given how precious food was now, she’d thought they might get a few jin at most. This—this was dozens of jin. No family would easily give away so much. If her son-in-law were still alive, maybe it’d be understandable—he had been an enviable driver, after all.

But since his passing, her daughter’s life hadn’t been easy.

“Don’t worry, Mom. Second Sister lent it to us. Her father-in-law sold the family heirloom to someone and got this grain in exchange. Then Second Sister told me to bring back these fifty jin.” Daniu explained.

After hearing his explanation, Daniu’s mother finally relaxed.

With fifty jin of grain, they could last a while longer. Lately, people in the village had already started dying from starvation. Without food, their family wouldn’t last long either.

That day, the head of the household cooked all the remaining grain at home to restore some strength, then planned to go out and search for wild vegetables or tree bark to eat.

If they didn’t find any, the family wouldn’t survive much longer.

But Daniu unexpectedly managed to borrow so much grain from his second sister’s in-laws. It seemed their family wasn’t fated to die just yet.

Since the end of last year, many villagers had been scouring the fields for anything edible—sweet potato skins, radish tops, even rotting cabbage leaves and dried radish greens. They’d gathered everything. Even the dried sweet potato vines usually reserved for animal feed had been washed, ground into powder, and mixed with a bit of sweet potato flour to make steamed buns just to keep hunger at bay.

(End of this chapter)