A Mortal’s Immortal Gourd
Chapter 3: Slaughtering the Pig for New Year

There was only one day left until the New Year. Maybe to add to the festive atmosphere, a heavy snowstorm had hit over the past two days, freezing everything solid.

In the bitter cold, the bedridden folks in the village who were just waiting to die didn’t waste any of the already scarce food rations—three people died in a single day.

Families who lost someone barely bothered with mourning—just a couple of perfunctory cries, then the body was wrapped in a straw mat and buried in the mass grave.

The poor were cheap lives, like wild grass. Every winter, a batch died off, and people had long since grown numb.

But today, Uncle's household was full of joy.

Zhang Youliang, the cousin who was studying martial arts in the county, had come back, and the private school where the younger cousin studied had already started the holiday break.

The big black pig that Ergouzi had raised for two years finally met its end today, slaughtered for the New Year.

The pig weighed 83 jin with the hair; after being cleaned and gutted, there were still 50 jin of meat left—enough for the whole family to enjoy a bountiful New Year.

Today, Ergouzi didn’t go out to collect firewood. He stayed busy helping out—boiling water, scraping hair, gutting the pig, and shoveling out the pig pen.

He figured that after raising this pig from dawn to dusk over two tough years, even if Uncle didn’t care about family bonds, surely he’d give him a couple of fatty pieces out of gratitude for his hard work.

So Ergouzi was genuinely happy today.

It was destined to be a fruitful and joyous day. Even the rice seedlings in his room had matured, their heads heavy with plump grains.

Ergouzi harvested them all and laid them out in his room to dry, planning to keep them as seed.

The batch he had secretly planted on the mountain had also started to head and would be ready to harvest soon.

Right now, Ergouzi was squatting by the clay stove, feeding the fire. The pot was bubbling and steaming, and a rich meaty aroma wafted out, making him salivate uncontrollably.

Just then, his older cousin came over carrying a big wooden plate, and Aunt began fishing out pieces of meat from the pot with her chopsticks and placing them onto the plate.

The fatty meat was white and tender, wobbling like tofu pudding, and it oozed oil that filled the air with mouthwatering fragrance.

"That's enough! That's enough!"

Seeing the plate stacked into a little meat mountain, the cousin quickly stopped her.

"My boy, eat more. You martial arts students have big appetites. You won’t have strength if you’re not full!"

Aunt said, adding a few more large chunks of fatty pork to the plate, pressing them down until the oil dripped off the edge.

"You boys are the family's hope. If one of you can pass the county or provincial exams one day, our whole family will rise to glory!"

After loading up the older cousin’s plate, Aunt started fishing out more fatty meat for the younger cousin.

"Mom, I want lean meat."

The younger cousin looked at the greasy plate of fatty pork and asked for lean.

"What do you know, kid? Fatty meat is the best! Lean meat is the worst part of the pig—tough, dry, and gets stuck in your teeth."

"Look how scrawny you are, like a bean sprout. You need more fat to fill you out."

Without another word, Aunt gave him a full plate of oily pork belly.

Pork belly was already her biggest compromise.

After splitting the meat between the two cousins, only some ribs, marrow bones, and lean meat were left in the pot.

Those less desirable cuts were for the two elders and the younger cousin.

Ergouzi looked at the bones and lean meat left in the pot, and his dream of tasting a piece of fatty meat was shattered.

Still, even getting a bit of lean or gnawing on a bone wouldn’t be bad.

Aunt scooped out all the remaining meat and bones, then glanced at the broth in the pot, still floating with a layer of oil.

"Ergouzi!"

"Yes, Aunt!"

Seeing the pork in Aunt’s hands, Ergouzi responded loudly, his face lit up with a joyful smile—after all, it was New Year’s.

"Add more water to the pot, then cook a big batch of dried wild vegetables."

"And look at all that pig poop on the ground—you don’t even think to clean it up!"

Ergouzi could only stare as Aunt carried all the meat away.

Not even a bone was left for him—just a pile of chores.

Sigh. A dependent will never get to eat meat.

He obediently added water to the broth and tossed in several bundles of dried wild greens.

Even boiled in meat broth, wild vegetables smelled delicious.

After he finished all his chores, he still harbored a shred of hope and went to check the living room.

Sure enough, not even a bone had been left for him.

He could only eat wild vegetables and make do for this pig-slaughtering feast.

That night, back in his own room, he shut the door.

He took out the dried rice grains and started counting them one by one.

Relying on others was never as good as relying on himself—these seeds, and the yellow gourd tucked in his arms, were his only hope of eating meat one day.

This harvest had yielded 355 grains of rice.

A farmer needed one or two dou of seed per mu, and in a good year, could harvest two shi of grain. (One shi equals ten dou; one dou equals ten liters.)

He had planted just four shriveled grains and gotten over 300 in return—a yield far beyond normal farming.

Aside from the rice, he had two new pairs of straw shoes hanging on the wall and over a dozen copper coins stashed under his bed.

Ergouzi carefully moved the bed frame and took out a small cloth pouch hidden underneath.

Opening it, he found over a dozen copper coins.

"One, two, three... sixteen!"

He stroked each coin with his fingers—his entire savings from secretly selling handmade straw shoes.

Every now and then, he would take them out to count and touch them, which gave him a sense of security.

Knock knock knock...

Just then, a faint knock came at the door.

"Brother Gouzi! Open up, quick!"

It was his younger cousin’s voice.

Ergouzi quickly pulled over a straw mat to cover the rice and coins.

When he opened the door, he saw his younger cousin wrapped in a thin cotton jacket, shivering in the snowy yard, her teeth chattering from the cold.

"Xiao'e, what are you doing here so late?"

"Brother Gouzi, look!"

She rummaged around inside her clothes and finally pulled out a tightly wrapped bundle of leaves and held it out to him.

Even from two or three feet away, the rich, delicious smell of meat hit his nose.

"Hurry and eat it. I have to go back to bed. Don’t let my mom find out."

"Thank you!"

As Ergouzi took the bundle and said thanks, his cousin had already turned to leave.

In all his years at Uncle’s house, she was the only one who treated him like family, always secretly looking out for him.

The bundle was still slightly warm. He opened the layers of leaves to find a piece of pork, already flattened and deformed.

He tore off a strip of lean meat and chewed it slowly.

So fragrant.

Pork was really delicious.

If he could eat pork twice a month, he’d be willing to work like an ox or a horse for someone.

Bang!

Just as he was savoring the meat, the door burst open with a loud kick.

Aunt stormed in, fuming, holding a firewood stick in her hand.

"You little b*stard! How dare you steal meat!"

She charged at him and started beating him over the head with the stick, while trying to snatch the meat from his hand.

Ergouzi clung to the meat, turning his back to her, stuffing the pork into his mouth as fast as he could.

He knew he couldn’t avoid the beating—better to take the hits and get the meat down first.

Thud thud thud...

"You little b*stard! Give me back that meat!"

Enduring the pain, Ergouzi finally shoved the whole chunk of meat into his mouth, choking so hard his eyes rolled back and he couldn’t breathe.

Luckily, Aunt’s firewood stick slammed him hard on the back a few more times, helping him force that big chunk of meat down his throat.

Ergouzi felt satisfied, but his actions had completely infuriated Aunt.

“You little b*stard! Stealing meat today—next thing you’ll be stealing the family’s gold and silver!”

She cursed as she kept chasing and hitting him. Ergouzi didn’t dare talk back, let alone fight back. All he could do was dodge and silently endure.

He had gotten used to it from a young age—just endure it, and it would pass.

If he dared to talk back or resist, he’d only get beaten worse, and wouldn’t even be allowed leftovers.

By now, Ergouzi had been driven to the edge of the bed, with nowhere left to retreat. But Aunt still wouldn’t let up—she shoved him onto the bed and kept hitting him.

She just wanted to teach him a lesson—make sure he’d never dare touch anything that wasn’t meant for him again.

Suddenly, Aunt froze, her eyes fixed on a corner of the straw mat.

A few copper coins had slipped out from under it.

Ergouzi's heart sank. He reached out to cover them, but it was already too late.

Aunt yanked the straw mat aside, revealing the hidden coins and rice grains underneath.

“Oh, so that’s how it is! I feed you, clothe you, raise you for over ten years, and in the end, you steal from me?! You ungrateful little wretch!”

“That’s mine!”

Ergouzi threw himself over the scattered coins and grains, shielding them with both arms.

It was everything he had saved up over a long time—his only hope for the future.

As he protected his treasure, he shoved Aunt away—causing her to fall to the ground.

Her face scraped against the wall, leaving a shallow cut that started to bleed.

“Ahhhhhh—!”

“Help! I’ve been attacked—!”

Aunt screamed like a banshee. Even that big black pig they slaughtered earlier hadn’t made such a scene. Her voice shook the whole house.

The earlier noise had already disturbed everyone. Now, hearing her screech, the whole family rushed over.

The first to arrive was his older cousin. He stepped into the room and, without saying a word, kicked Ergouzi square in the chest, knocking him flat.

Martial artists were incredibly strong. The moment Ergouzi took that kick, the world went black—he clutched his stomach, his body limp and powerless.

Worse yet, a spasm wracked his insides, and he vomited up all the meat he’d just managed to eat through that beating.

But his cousin wasn’t finished. He stomped on Ergouzi’s head with one foot, like he was trying to crush it.

At that moment, the younger cousin, usually the bookworm, rushed in and joined in, kicking and stomping on Ergouzi as well.

“Big Brother! Second Brother! Stop! I was the one who stole the meat!”

His younger cousin tried to hold the two of them back, but Aunt grabbed her and flung her aside.

“Beat that ungrateful little b*stard to death!”

“If I hadn’t taken you in back then, you’d have starved in the streets!”

“Ungrateful traitor!”

“Beat him! Harder!”

Aunt wasn’t even crying anymore. With her hands on her hips, she stood to the side, screaming obscenities.

Ergouzi felt dizzy, his mind in a daze. The memories of his life flashed before his eyes.

His parents had died when he was five. At six, his only brother passed away too. From then on, he had done heavy labor every day—living worse than a dog.

He never had enough to eat, wore threadbare clothes, survived on scraps and pig feed, and still didn’t even own a full pair of pants.

A surge of anger and sorrow welled up in his chest.

“You’re the ones who are ungrateful!”

“You’re the ones who stole my parents’ inheritance!”

Overcome with grief and rage, Ergouzi didn’t know where the strength came from, but he shouted at the top of his lungs.

The moment he did, the room fell dead silent.

Aunt, older cousin, younger cousin—all of them stared at him, unmoving.

As soon as the words left his mouth, Ergouzi knew he’d made a mistake.

That secret had been buried deep in his heart for years. He’d never dared to even hint at it.

All this time, he had pretended to be clueless, obedient, and submissive—never talking back, never fighting back.

“Ahhhhhh—!”

“You heartless little b*stard!”

“We raised you for ten years and this is how you repay us?!”

Thud thud thud—!

Aunt’s shrieking became a battle cry. The two cousins began another savage round of punching and kicking.

This time, they held nothing back. They were going to beat him to death.

Ergouzi felt something snap in his ribs—he couldn’t breathe. His head was ringing.

This time, he was really going to die…

“Stop!”

“That’s enough!”

A powerful male voice rang out. The two cousins froze mid-strike.

Through the haze, Ergouzi saw Uncle walking into the room.

“Enough! If you keep going, someone’s going to die!”

“But—”

The older cousin tried to speak but was cut off.

“We’re all family. If someone dies and word gets out, people will talk. It’ll damage our reputation, and worse, we’ll get dragged into lawsuits.”

So Uncle wasn’t actually worried about Ergouzi’s life.

He just didn’t want a dead body on his hands—didn’t want gossip, didn’t want to lose face, and certainly didn’t want to bribe the authorities.

“Ergouzi, I’ve raised you from age five to thirteen. That’s eight full years. As your uncle, I’ve done my duty.”

Uncle knelt beside him, said a few self-righteous lines, then gestured for the cousins to drag Ergouzi out.

“Dad!”

His younger cousin clutched Uncle’s sleeve.

“Dad, it’s freezing out there—if you throw Gouzi out now, he’ll freeze to death!”

Smack!

A crisp slap rang out. Aunt had yanked the girl aside and struck her hard.

“What goes on in this house is up to your father and brothers. Since when is it your place to speak?”

“Mom, can’t we at least wait for spring—”

Smack!

Another slap cut her off. Aunt then dragged her away and locked her in another room.

As Ergouzi was being hauled out, he turned his head to glance at his cousin, now locked away.

And then he was shoved out the door.

“Ergouzi, from now on, walk your own path. Live or die—it has nothing to do with us!”

Creak—slam!

With that, the older cousin slammed the door shut.

In the icy wind and snow, only Ergouzi remained—lying on the ground, shivering uncontrollably.