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As the light faded and dusk settled in, the sky gradually darkened.

Although the stench of blood in the main room was repeatedly washed away with water, the smell that had seeped into the cracks in the floor tiles just wouldn't go away.

Chen Qian stood beside the mountain of flesh weighing over two hundred pounds, his gaze as calm as if he were scrutinizing a livestock awaiting slaughter.

"Move it to the backyard."

Chen Qian gave the instructions in a low voice.

It took the two of them a great deal of effort to drag Zhang the butcher's heavy body to the pile of debris at the base of the backyard wall.

There was a large, rough earthenware vat there, used for pickling vegetables and storing water.

"Head down, insert it."

Chen Qian gave orders without showing the slightest reverence for the dead.

With a dull "thump".

Zhang the butcher's twisted and stiff body was forcibly stuffed into the vat, like a dead pig.

"Go get some charcoal."

Chen Qian took the basket of charcoal that A Qing handed him and poured it all in without hesitation.

Black charcoal chunks rolled down, filling the gaps between the corpse and the jar wall, completely burying the terrified, distorted face.

"Charcoal can absorb the odor of corpses and moisture."

As Chen Qian spoke, he asked for quicklime to be brought over.

Instead of pouring lime directly onto the corpse, he thickly sprinkled it around the rim and outer wall of the vat, and then sealed the gaps tightly with a mixture of yellow mud and lime after covering it with a wooden lid.

"Seal the cracks with lime to prevent insect bites and dampness."

After all this was done, the large vat looked no different from the other junk jars around it, standing quietly in the shadows in the corner, completely inconspicuous.

Chen Qian dusted off his hands, glanced at A Qing's still uneasy eyes, and calmly said:

"This is just a stopgap measure."

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"Charcoal and lime will last for a while. But if the smell still permeates after a few days, or if something unexpected happens..."

Chen Qian spoke in a calm tone, as if he were imparting some life hack:

"Then add another ten pounds of coarse salt to thoroughly dehydrate it."

"Leave the rest to me."

"I'll handle it!"

Ah Qing listened to these chilling words.

Looking at that large vat, the uncontrollable trembling in my body suddenly stopped.

For some reason, her heart felt much calmer.

After dealing with the dirty stuff, next up was Aqing's mother.

The two washed their hands and changed the water in the basin.

Chen Qian didn't let A Qing do it alone, but helped her carefully carry the thin, cold body back to the east wing.

That was the house where Aqing's mother lived before she died.

He wiped the blood off her face, changed her into a clean but patched set of clothes, and tucked her in.

It looks like she's asleep.

After doing all this, Chen Qian returned to the main room.

One last check.

The bloodstains in the cracks of the floor tiles were removed, the tables and chairs were straightened, and the broken shards of the wine jars were swept away.

There is no trace of the killing here.

The sky was completely dark.

The night wind rustled through the old persimmon tree in the yard, making a soft, whispering sound.

Chen Qian walked to the courtyard gate and looked back.

The huge courtyard was deathly silent.

Only a small oil lamp, barely bright enough to be seen, was lit in the east wing; it was an ever-burning lamp for the dead.

And Ah Qing stood there all alone in the darkness in the center of the courtyard.

She had changed out of her blood-stained clothes and was now wearing a thin, old shirt. She looked as frail as a withered blade of grass that could be broken by the night wind at any moment.

She looked at the lamp, then at the vat in the corner, her figure swaying precariously.

This place no longer feels like home; it feels more like a grave.

Chen Qian's hand was already on the latch of the courtyard gate.

As long as he pushes open the door and steps over the low wall, he can return to his small but warm home.

But he stopped.

"Let's go."

Chen Qian's voice rang out in the night, breaking the deathly silence of the courtyard.

Aqing raised her head blankly and looked at the tall, slender figure at the door.

"Where to?" she asked hoarsely.

Chen Qian pushed open the door and turned to the side.

Let some moonlight stream in; his tone was calm yet carried an undeniable authority:

"Go back to my home."

"Let's have dinner together."

Aqing was stunned.

Have a meal?

On this night when two people died and their bodies had just been buried?

"Food is the foundation of life." Chen Qian didn't give her a chance to refuse, waving his hand, "Only when you're full can you have the strength to live."

"Besides, Little Fish has been talking about you for a long time."

Aqing's eyes suddenly reddened.

She lowered her head, quickly followed, and walked out of the cold courtyard.

……

Next door, the Chen family's courtyard.

A single lamp, dim in light, yet warm as springtime.

As soon as you enter, the aroma of food wafts over you—the fragrance of brown rice porridge mixed with pickled vegetables and a touch of pork lard.

"Uncle's back!"

The little fish, who was playing in the yard, spotted Aqing following behind Chen Qian at a glance.

"Oh? Sister Aqing is here too!"

The little girl cheered and ran over on her short legs, grabbing Aqing's cold hand, tilting her head back with bright, sparkling eyes:

"Sister Aqing!"

"Why are your hands so cold? Are you not wearing enough clothes?"

Children don't understand the adult world; their enthusiasm is pure and direct.

Aqing suddenly remembered her mother's words: "When your hands are cold, go near a fire."

Lin Xiu, the sister-in-law who was setting the table, was taken aback when she saw this, and then greeted them warmly:

"It's Aqing! Come quick, come quick, dinner's just started."

She looked at Aqing's red and swollen eyes and cheeks, and although she had doubts, she didn't ask any more questions. Her eyes just showed a hint of pity.

"You haven't eaten yet, have you? Here, let your sister-in-law get you a bowl of hot food."

Even the usually taciturn elder brother, Chen Ke, smiled sheepishly and moved aside.

"Sit down, sit down. We're all neighbors, don't be shy."

Aqing was pulled by Xiaoyu to sit on the bench.

A bowl of steaming hot rice porridge was stuffed into my hands, and a peeled salted duck egg was placed in front of me.

All around were the chirping of little fish, Lin Xiu's gentle chatter, and Chen Ke's occasional silly laughter.

This scene, brimming with the warmth of everyday life, seemed like two completely different worlds compared to the cold, deathly morgue just a wall away.

Aqing held the bowl, head down, tears silently falling into the porridge.

She drank it down in big gulps, swallowing the bittersweet taste of the world, a mixture of tears and rice porridge.

Chen Qian sat to the side, quietly eating his meal.

He didn't speak or explain anything, but occasionally picked up a piece of food for Xiaoyu with his chopsticks.

[Experience in reading between the lines +1]

He saw a revitalizing energy in Aqing.

After finishing the meal, Chen Qian did not stay any longer.

After discussing with his brother about letting Aqing stay at home overnight, he left the remaining warmth to them and went straight into the kitchen, which was filled with the smell of medicine.

The fire in the stove was burning brightly.

A clay pot was bubbling away, steaming with the bitter, pungent smell of the internal tonics he had bought from the pharmacy.

In the large pot on the other side, the water had already boiled.

Chen Qian handed over those expensive packets of medicinal bath ingredients.

He poured in all sorts of herbs, including safflower and other herbs.

The medicinal soup churned and instantly turned a deep, dark brown, emitting a pungent and overpowering aroma.

"call……"

Chen Qian picked up the bowl of freshly brewed internal medicine, and without caring that it was too hot to drink, tilted his head back and drank it all in one gulp.

The scalding liquid slid down my throat into my stomach, like a ball of fire exploding in my abdomen, quickly spreading to my limbs and bones.

Chen Qian could feel the surging medicinal power very clearly.

He then poured the prepared medicinal bath into a large vat that had been prepared in the room.

That jar was almost identical in size and style to the one next door where Zhang the butcher was buried.

Chen Qian wiped the medicine stains from the corner of his mouth, his eyes becoming incredibly fervent.

"Now, it's my turn."