"Dad, Dad."
"I'm not dead yet."
"Stop wailing, or I'll beat you."
At the village production team's threshing ground, the aroma of meat wafted from several large pots. A child, clutching a bowl and chopsticks, drooled at the scent.
He kept shouting for his father, his demeanor akin to mourning. His father, annoyed by the wailing, would have stripped him and spanked his bottom if there weren't so many people around.
This scene, with thousands gathered for a pig-slaughter feast, was likely something young people today would never witness.
Chen Yang, too, had never seen such a grand occasion.
This was the production team's final flourish. After next year's household responsibility system, where everyone would work independently, production teams would gradually disappear.
Even if they hunted a wild boar, the meat would be divided among the villagers. At most, a few close relatives would be invited to share in the feast. Such a scene, with villagers from several villages under one production team coming together for a meal, would never be seen again.
The village committee would replace the production team. Under the village committee, in the various villager groups, people would no longer work together like they did in the production team, nor would they be as close.
They would all go their separate ways.
In the past, villagers in the countryside often visited each other. If someone cooked something delicious today, they would share a bite with their neighbors.
Later, as people bought houses and moved into cities, living in apartment buildings, they might not know their neighbors even after living there for years. The warmth of human connection was fading.
"Daddy, how much longer until we can eat?"
A little child, also holding a small bowl, sat on a tiny stool, waiting for the feast to begin.
Boiling in the pots was pig blood soup. Despite five pigs' worth of blood, there was more soup than blood due to the large number of people. Each person would likely get only a mouthful of soup.
But in this era of scarcity, everyone eagerly awaited the feast. In later times, such an event wouldn't attract so many people for a pig-slaughter feast.
Though the ingredients were not abundant, the atmosphere was undeniably vibrant, with everyone's gaze fixed uniformly on the steaming iron pots.
"Soon, soon."
"See those uncles. When they pour the chopped scallions from that basket into the pot, the feast will begin."
Chen Yang gently stroked his precious daughter's head. Today, he had brought his little foodie to witness a grand event.
"Daddy, can I ride on your head to get some pig blood soup later?"
Chen Hao looked at Chen Yang, full of anticipation.
His dad was already tall, and if he sat on his shoulders, he was sure to get the pig blood soup first.
Chen Yang's face darkened. It was the first time since he had taken the two little ones to play "horse riding" that Chen Hao had asked to ride on his neck, and it was all for a bowl of pig blood soup.
"Son, can you have a little more ambition? It's just for a bowl of pig blood soup, it's not worth it. I'll buy you some big pieces of pig blood tomorrow, and your mom can cook it for you to eat your fill."
A son riding on his father's shoulders wasn't shameful. Chen Yang was worried that the little one might not hold his bowl steady in the crowd, and end up spilling the pig blood soup all over himself. This was just out of the pot.
That would be the death of him.
"But Daddy, the pot smells so good, I want to eat it."
Chen Hao's eyes sparkled as he looked at Chen Yang. Seeing his son's expectant gaze, the old man relented.
"Your grandpa and I will go get some first. We'll give it to you to eat first, okay?"
"There are too many people, if it spills, it would be such a waste."
Chen Yang tried to reason with him emotionally and logically. Upon hearing that he would get to eat, Chen Hao stopped making a fuss.
"Daddy, I want some too, I want some too."
It was always like this with the two children; if one got something, the other had to have it too, otherwise, they would surely fight.
"Yes, both of you will have some."
"Don't worry, my good grandchildren. Grandpa will take your dad to get some pig blood soup right away."
The old man, seeing his two beloved grandchildren wanting to eat, was not hesitant at all. He grabbed Chen Yang and headed for the queue.
Soon, the soup was ready. The old village head called out the leaders of the villager groups and instructed everyone to line up with their bowls.
One ladle per person.
There was no other way. The bowls were of various sizes, and there was only so much pig blood soup. At most, it was a little over half a bowl, with only one or two pieces of pig blood in each bowl. Everyone could at least get a taste.
This was even after adding a lot of water, otherwise, there wouldn't be enough to go around.
For the stir-fried pork liver and kidney flowers, and the braised pork tripe, lungs, and intestines that came later, each family only needed one person to get their share. Those with more family members could get more, while those with fewer could get less, to supplement the meal with the steamed buns they brought from home.
"Be careful, it's hot. Wait for Mom and Grandma to blow on it for you."
Chen Yang and his father-in-law returned with the pig blood soup, and the two little ones jumped up and down with excitement.
Their little faces were so excited that they stomped their feet.
The two little ones held their chubby hands, waiting for Shen Xue and their mother-in-law to blow on the soup for them, and then took a sip.
"How does it taste?"
Chen Yang glanced at his son. He had gone to great lengths to get these two bowls of pig blood soup.
"Delicious."
Chen Hao took a sip of the pig blood soup. Shen Xue took a piece of pig's blood from her bowl, blew on it to cool it, and fed it to him.
The little guy swallowed it without even chewing, and then looked as if he hadn't had enough.
"Alright, seeing that our son still wants more, you and Mom can go get some more."
There were too many people, and not enough for everyone. The adults got soup, but the children didn't.
Chen Yang and his father-in-law gave their bowls to the two little ones. However, the little girl didn't like pig's blood soup as much and only sipped the broth before stopping. Perhaps she found it too gamey.
"Daddy, it doesn't taste good."
The little girl stuck out her tongue and spat a few times onto the ground.
It was rare for a little foodie to dislike something.
"Offal has a strong gamey smell. If you don't like it, don't eat it."
"Mom will make you braised pork later."
Chen Yang took the bowl, but Chen Hao was staring intently at the bowl of pig blood soup his sister had refused.
"Sister, if you don't want it, can you give it to me?"
Chen Hao glanced at his sister. This pig blood soup tasted so good, why wouldn't his sister want to drink it?
"I don't want it anymore, it's for you."
The little girl was indifferent. It didn't taste good at all.
"Thank you, sister."
Chen Hao immediately became happy again. He had already had one bowl, and now he could have his sister's, and soon his mother's and grandmother's.
He could drink four bowls by himself, it was simply too blissful.
Chen Yang didn't know what his son was thinking. This stuff was incredibly cheap, a large bowl could be bought for a dime. If he had known his son liked it so much, he would have bought some long ago.
"Don't drink too much. You'll have a stomach full of water and it'll slosh when you walk."
The father-in-law gently stroked his grandson's little head, looking fondly at Chen Hao drinking the pig blood soup.
"Grandpa, I can drink another bowl."
Chen Hao insisted that he could drink another bowl, but as soon as he finished speaking, he let out a burp, which immediately made Chen Yang laugh.
"If you can't drink anymore, don't force it. If you like pig's blood, I'll buy you some tomorrow."
"When you eat, you need to be mindful of your capacity. And you, Yanyan, both of you need to know not to stuff yourselves just because something is delicious. Eating until you're full can easily lead to indigestion."
The father patiently educated the two little ones. Children are raised little by little.
You can't avoid teaching them just because they don't understand. If you try to teach them when they are older, they won't listen to you.