Chapter 51: Lamb Bone Meatballs, The Master Skinner Makes an Entrance!

After gaining the right to be the main cook, Ming Dai asked which side dishes were available. Aunt Huang, somewhat embarrassed, admitted that for now, only radishes and cabbages were plentiful; nothing else was on hand. Ming Dai nodded, “Those two are enough. I’ve got some vermicelli here—if I chop it up, everyone can have a taste. But how will we handle the rice?”

Aunt Huang hadn’t expected Ming Dai to have vermicelli and felt a bit awkward, quickly explaining, “Everyone brings their own rice—we don’t have to worry about that.”

“Then please, Aunt and Sister-in-law, take care of the cabbage and radish. I’ll take Zhou Sinian and skin the sheep,” Ming Dai said.

Aunt Huang glanced secretly at Zhou Sinian, who had exchanged looks with Ma, “Is he alright? He scared me to death yesterday!”

Ming Dai felt a little apologetic, “Aunt, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect it either. He didn’t mean any harm—he just wanted to tell you that blood needs to be drained from the sheep for the meat to taste good.”

Aunt Huang patted her chest in relief, “It’s not your fault. If not for you, we’d never get to eat mutton soup. I was just afraid you’d get caught up in trouble.”

Ming Dai feigned weakness at the right moment, “He didn’t do anything. He was just angry because I gave up the sheep. So today, I have to make the soup well, or else…”

Aunt Huang looked at her with pity, “Poor girl, how did you end up entangled with a madman?”

Ming Dai’s eyes reddened as she sniffled, “It’s alright, Aunt. Let’s get to work!”

Such a pure jasmine blossom!

Aunt Huang responded quickly and led her daughter-in-law to start preparing.

Ming Dai ran to the stable to consult with Zhou Sinian, who had scared the horses to the point they almost knelt, about dismantling the sheep.

Zhou Sinian agreed, but refused to carry the sheep—he simply couldn’t stand the smell.

In the end, Sister-in-law Huang carried the sheep to the riverbank, and Ming Dai helped hang it from a tree.

As they brought the sheep over, the villagers were washing radishes in the river. Their calves were redder than the radishes from the freezing water, suffering indeed, so they were especially looking forward to the mutton soup at noon.

Seeing Aunt Huang bring the sheep over, everyone’s eyes couldn’t help but glance that way.

The children instantly grew excited, dropping their radishes and running over.

The adults didn’t mind—it was rare to witness a sheep being slaughtered, so let them watch if they wanted.

But because the madman was there, the children kept their distance, only daring to watch from afar.

They saw the sheep hung upside down from one leg, and the madman drew the fearsome triangular military dagger that made the people of Willow Bay tremble, and approached the sheep.

The children covered their mouths, watching as the madman skinned the sheep.

The people from the educated youth commune were also present, feeling jealous as they watched Ming Dai come to help.

Song Lanlan, her hand swollen like a radish, blew on her fingers and rolled her eyes at Ming Dai by the riverbank, “She doesn’t even know her own limits. Hope she doesn’t ruin a good pot of mutton soup!”

Chen Erhong looked worriedly at cheerful Ming Dai, then at frowning Fang Mingyang, saying nothing.

Liu Yan, equally annoyed, chimed in, “Ming Dai’s family is from the west side of the city. She probably hasn’t had much mutton soup—who knows if she can cook it?”

She glanced at Fang Rou and Qi Zhijun nearby, emphasizing their closeness.

Fang Rou ignored her, only staring absent-mindedly at the madman’s raised figure, feeling that things were drifting further from her memories.

Qi Zhijun was captivated by the military dagger in the madman’s hand. His family also lived in a military compound, so he was familiar with such weapons.

But this one was clearly different from standard military knives.

Could it be that this madman had some extraordinary background?

Seeing neither responded, Song Lanlan sneered at Liu Yan, “Heh, you’re imagining things.”

Liu Yan’s face flushed, and she retorted, “Who knows if the madman can skin a sheep? It’s a real skill—the boss at the mutton restaurant I frequent says it takes three years just to learn how to skin.”

Song Lanlan nearly rolled her eyes right out of her head—just showing off that she’s been to a mutton restaurant!

Next, Zhou Sinian’s actions slapped their faces hard.

The madman didn’t hesitate as he made his cuts. The blade tip slid smoothly, separating the skin along the joints, turning, chopping, his movements fluid and mesmerizing.

At least, that’s how Ming Dai saw it.

The others thought: The madman really is terrifying—how many has he killed to become so skilled? Sob!

Liu Yan/Song Lanlan: Sob, he’s scary!

Fang Rou: Is the madman really this formidable?

Qi Zhijun: What a pity, such a fine dagger in the hands of a madman.

Soon, a perfect sheepskin was stripped off. He tossed it disdainfully, eight yards away, and Aunt Huang retrieved it.

She cheerfully showed it to Ming Dai, “Girl, once I wash and cure this for you, you can make a sheepskin coat.”

Ming Dai didn’t refuse, smiling and agreeing.

Soon, Zhou Sinian began to carve the meat. Wherever the dagger went, meat and bone separated easily. Everyone watched silently, not daring to speak, while Ming Dai held a basket, catching the chunks of meat and bones he tossed down.

In no time, the whole sheep was dismantled.

Zhou Sinian weighed the knife in his hand, gazing at the baskets of meat and bones with satisfaction.

Today was truly exhilarating!

Sister-in-law Huang hurried to wash the meat and bones; the fat floated in the water, making everyone happy.

Aunt Huang took the intestines and stomach downstream to clean.

Once everything was processed, they carried the baskets to the brigade headquarters, where a large iron pot from the old communal kitchen was perfect for making mutton soup.

Aunt Huang and her crew scrubbed the pot, while Ming Dai carried the bones and called Zhou Sinian to find a ground mortar.

The ground mortar was widely used in villages to crush food.

Ming Dai took the large bones and used the pestle to break them into smaller pieces, chopped the spine into sections, and placed them in the mortar to pound.

Zhou Sinian pounded away, attracting Aunt Huang’s attention.

She found it fascinating, “Goodness, I never knew bones could be eaten!”

Ming Dai watched as the sheep spine was mashed into mince and had Zhou Sinian stop. She scooped the meat mush into a basin.

“Girl, what’s this for?” Aunt Huang quietly approached, watching Ming Dai crack two eggs into the basin, add flour, and seasoning.

Ming Dai stirred as she explained, “Aunt, I’m making mutton bone meatballs. This way nothing is wasted. With so many people, at least everyone can have one.”

Aunt Huang grew increasingly pleased with Ming Dai. Not only was she not spoiled, but she had such skill in cooking—no one for miles around could find a girl like her. She was still young, but in a couple of years, Aunt Huang would love to ask if Ming Dai would marry her third son.

But then she thought, Ming Dai was from the city—she probably wouldn’t care for country folk.

Still, Ming Dai’s background was special, and the old man had told Aunt Huang about her situation. There really was a chance to keep this golden phoenix.

For now, Ming Dai was still young, and there was the madman holding things up. She’d wait and see.

Maybe her third son would be lucky enough.

Aunt Huang watched cheerfully as Ming Dai deftly shaped the meatballs and dropped them into the pot, quietly calculating that it’d be best to wait a couple more years before mentioning marriage.

Ming Dai cooked happily, completely unaware that Aunt Huang was already plotting to bring her home as a daughter-in-law.