Chapter 7 — The Mother Who Wouldn't Go Hungry

“Bui Kinh Chi.” She opened her mouth, her voice calm: “Do you remember fifteen years ago, the day I gave birth to Canh Nhi?” Marquis Bui was stunned. "That day, I intentionally asked the kitchen to make a table of food, wanting to have a nice meal with you. You came to the door, looked at me, said something, do you remember?" Marquis Bui's lips trembled, speechless. "You said, I'm so fat and still eat, don't you feel embarrassed?" The mother's tears finally flowed down, but she didn't wipe them away. She just looked at the man in front of her and said word by word: "Bui Kinh Chi, I have put up with you long enough." In the end, the Bui Hau family was ordered to return the entire dowry, beaten forty times, and exiled for three years. Concubine Lieu was an accomplice and was sold out of the palace and sent to the parish. Bui Canh, because he helped his father seize his mother's dowry, had his name erased from the family tree, his title was stripped, and he was forever barred from entering the official government. On the day of sentencing, Concubine Lieu cried until her heart was broken, hugging the yamen pillar and refusing to leave. I walked in front of her, squatted down and looked at her tear-stained face. "Di Niang." I smiled and said: "Isn't she the one who likes to show off her small waist the most?" "In the guild, everyone has a small waist with one hand, and people who come there are considered to have returned to their old hometown." 10 After everything was over, my mother and I moved out of the Marquis Palace, living in the estate according to her dowry. On the page there is a peach forest. When the peach blossoms bloom in the spring, I order people to build a clay kitchen in the forest. That day, a whole goat was grilled, coated with five layers of honey, and the outside was scorched and the inside was succulent. The mother sat by the kitchen, looking at the peach blossoms in the distance, eating goat meat, and suddenly said: "I want to eat grilled baby pork belly for the first time." I smiled, picked up a piece of pork belly that was sizzling and dripping with fat from the plate next to me, and stuffed it into her mouth. She chewed and chewed, tears shining in her eyes. "In this whole life, the thing I regret most is not marrying the wrong person." She looked into the distance, her voice was very light: "It's that I've been hungry for fifteen years, and only now have I discovered that rice is so delicious." I put a skewer of pork belly that had just been grilled into her hand, sprinkled it with dill, and then sprinkled a handful of chili powder. "Mother." I said: "In the next few decades, we will eat meat every meal, to make up for all the things we have wronged ourselves before." She took the meat skewer and took a big bite, the corners of her mouth were covered with dill. The sunlight passed through the peach blossoms and fell on her face, the years were peaceful. Two years later, I opened a restaurant on the site, specializing in selling grilled meat and hot pot. All of them are dishes I like to eat before going through, they are so fragrant that I can't stand it. All the ladies and gentlemen in the capital flocked to the place, all saying that the meat of this house was fragrant for ten miles, and they were addicted to eating it. The model is the shopkeeper of the restaurant. Now she had gained twenty pounds, the cold expression on her face was filled with meat. When he smiles, he has dimples on his cheeks and looks younger than me. That day, a woman walked in wearing a hat to cover her face, skinny and staggering. She ordered a plate of pork belly, but she couldn't eat a single bite, so she just sat in the corner secretly wiping her tears. I recognized her as Concubine Lieu. She was so thin that she was deformed. Her face, which once fascinated the Bui Hau family to the point of going crazy, was now as old as a dried tangerine peel. I didn't chase her away, I just told the young lady to give her a third of a tael, sprinkled with twice as much dill. She stood at the door and turned her head to look at me, her lips moving, as if she wanted to say something. I didn't listen, so I turned around and went back to the kitchen. On the iron plate, a row of pork belly is sizzling and dripping with fat, the fragrance spreading everywhere. I picked up the broom, dipped it in honey and then swept it onto the meat, the fire flared up, lighting my face red. The smoke and fire of this human world is so fragrant that it can kill you.