Li Xiangdong grinned, "I'm using these mugs as liquor bottles. They've got the two jin of Erguotou I just bought."
"Why bother with loose liquor? Just grab some from home. Binzi, don't forget to bring my two bottles of Tongzhou Laojiao when we head out," said Uncle Qian.
"Got it, Dad," Qian Bin replied cheerfully.
Uncle Qian was a generous man, and Qian Bin took after him. When their group of friends ate and drank together, Qian Bin usually footed most of the bill.
"No way, Uncle Qian. We're already imposing enough. How could we take your liquor?" Li Xiangdong protested.
"Yeah, Uncle Qian, if you keep this up, we won't dare come back," added Xiang Lin.
Li Xiangdong and his friends quickly waved off the offer. Qian Bin paying for the pig's head and offal was already their group's business—how could they let an elder chip in? Besides, loose liquor was fine for them. Tongzhou Laojiao wasn't cheap at two yuan eighty per bottle, and it required a liquor ration ticket!
Uncle Qian didn't push. "Alright, I'll save these bottles for when Binzi's wife has the baby. We'll crack them open for the one-month celebration."
Li Xiangdong suddenly remembered Qian Bin's wife was due soon. No wonder he hadn't seen her in the courtyard—she was probably resting inside.
He clasped his fists and said, "Uncle Qian, let me congratulate you in advance. When my big nephew has his one-month party, I'll make sure to have a good drink with you."
He said this because he knew Qian Bin's wife would give birth to a healthy boy.
Uncle Qian's face lit up with a smile, fanning himself twice with his palm-leaf fan. "Nephew, niece! In our Qian family, boy or girl, it's all the same. I'd love a granddaughter too," he said loudly.
But despite his words, Li Xiangdong's comment clearly tickled him. The Qian family had been a single line for three generations, so of course he hoped his daughter-in-law would give him a fat grandson.
"Well, you boys get to work. I won't meddle. I've got a shift at four this afternoon, so I'm heading inside to rest," Uncle Qian said.
Li Xiangdong nodded. "You should rest up. Your health is the foundation of the revolution. The kitchen's counting on you, Uncle Qian."
"You always know what to say, kid. Now that you're back from the countryside, come by more often," Uncle Qian said, fanning himself as he stepped over the threshold. Then he turned back to his son. "Binzi, don't forget the braising spice packet. I made it special for the restaurant. It gives the meat that authentic flavor."
"Got it, Dad," Qian Bin replied.
Once his dad was inside, Qian Bin stood, rubbing his numb legs from squatting too long—he was a bit chubby and couldn't stay down for long.
"Dongzi, you're too damn smooth. Your sweet talk's got my dad so charmed he can't tell north from south. He even pulled out the braising spice packet. Why don't you just become his son?" Qian Bin teased.
The braising spice packet was the Qian family's secret recipe. His dad never let outsiders use it, even keeping a close eye on it in the restaurant kitchen to prevent anyone from copying it.
Xiang Lin, holding a pig's ear, chimed in with admiration. "Dongzi's got a silver tongue. How else could he, living off his dad's relief grain in the village, still manage to snag a wife?"
Zhang Sen piled on, "Exactly! When Dongzi met his wife, he bragged about his good grades, high moral character, eagerness to help others, and being named a 'Five Goods' student with a wall full of awards at home."
After a round of laughter, Qian Bin asked curiously, "Hey, Dongzi, when your wife found out you lied, didn't she slap you twice?"
Li Xiangdong fumed, "Stop spreading rumors! None of that happened. My wife saw my outstanding qualities. Now get to work and clean that pig hair off!"
Under their mocking gazes, he found a shady spot by the wall to squat, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a satisfying drag.
After singeing, the pig's head was blackened and needed a thorough scrub. Qian Bin gathered the head, singed hooves, and tail, filled a bucket with water, poured it into a basin, and started scrubbing with a loofah.
Xiang Lin and Zhang Sen tackled the pig offal in the other basin. The large intestines were slimy and foul-smelling, sending the nearby kids running.
Wiping sweat from his forehead, Qian Bin grumbled, "Dongzi, can you stop acting like a lord and come help?"
"I don't know how," Li Xiangdong said, shaking his head. He was fine with eating but hopeless at cooking.
Xiang Lin snorted, "Dongzi only knows how to eat. Don't expect him to do any real work!"
"Xiao Linzi, watch it. Who doesn't know how to eat? Binzi, clean that pig tail well—my daughter loves it, and I'm taking it home for her tonight," Li Xiangdong said.
"Do it yourself!" Qian Bin shot back.
"Come on, Binzi, what's wrong with an uncle cleaning a pig tail for his niece?" Li Xiangdong teased.
Li Xiangdong walked over, fished the pig tail out of the basin, and decided to do it himself. Qian Bin's squinting eyes made him look half-asleep while working, and Li wasn't confident in him.
It took a while to clean everything. The stuff was not only wasteful to prepare but also a hassle to clean.
Seeing Xiang Lin and Zhang Sen still peeling the white membrane off the pig kidneys, Li Xiangdong asked, "You two done yet?"
"Almost," they replied.
They dumped all the cleaned items into the bucket, scrubbed the two basins with soapberry powder, and put them back inside.
Xiang Lin and Zhang Sen carried the bucket, while Li Xiangdong and Qian Bin followed, each holding a tea mug.
Leaving Qian Bin's place, they wound through several narrow alleys, some so tight Xiang Lin and Zhang Sen had to sidestep. It took a while to reach the main road.
Zhang Sen stopped, set the bucket down, and turned to Li Xiangdong and Qian Bin. "This is too heavy—it's killing my hands. You two take a turn."
Xiang Lin stayed quiet, knowing his friends weren't the diligent type.
Li Xiangdong, holding his mugs, didn't break stride and passed them. "Switch what? You and Xiang Lin can swap hands. Hurry up, we're almost there."
"Why're you looking at me? I'm the chef today. Don't ask me to do the grunt work," Qian Bin said, not falling for it. Besides, Dongzi was right—they were almost there.
Crossing the main road led to Hutong North, or Beichuanban Hutong, where the big households lived.
Shi Zhengzhe's family had a single-courtyard house there, about the same size as Li Xiangdong's. Rumor was it was his mom's dowry, but since the deed was in his dad's name, the street office returned it to them.
The lanes here were wide enough for four people to walk side by side. After passing two more alleys, they reached Azhe's door.
"Finally," Xiang Lin said, setting down the bucket and pounding on the door.