Chapter 32: Lamb Offal Soup

Money. He must make money.

This was the most direct and urgent thought in Li Po’s mind after he had gone through great pains to secure a place to stay. In the refugee camp, even if you had money, there was nowhere to spend it, but here in the human market, you could not take a single step without it.

Sheep offal and sheep innards soup—in later times, these would be considered genuine delicacies. Furthermore, the preparation process was extremely simple, with no secret recipes involved. This was the only thing Li Po could think of that would satisfy so many hungry mouths without requiring any initial capital. After all, nowadays, unless people were starving, no one would even consider touching animal organs.

However, making money from this alone was likely not going to be enough. Yet, the necessity of earning a living was already staring him in the face. Looking at the strange-looking "big pot" resting on the fire, Li Po thought helplessly.

He had scavenged this item from the house's kitchen. It was rusted through and through, and it had taken a great deal of effort to clean it up. In truth, it could not really be called a pot; it was more of a cauldron, though it lacked legs. Among the refugees, someone had recognized it, and that was how Li Po learned it should properly be called a "huo" (a large bronze vessel). It was made of bronze, thick-bodied, and rough on the surface; it also consumed a tremendous amount of firewood.

Li Po did not hesitate to dismantle the large table in the room. If that wasn't enough, there was a small grove of old trees in the market; he could take some men to chop them down, and he reckoned no one would dare to say a word now.

Several men huddled around Li Po, their eyes fixed on the large pot. They had no idea if what was being boiled inside would be edible or how it would taste. After changing the water twice, an exhausting process that left Li Po drenched in sweat, he finally began the actual preparation of the sheep offal.

The offal had already been chopped up and was floating in the water, a chaotic mess of colors. The smell of the boiling mixture was foul. The men huddled around the pot had grim expressions on their faces—they were being choked by the stench. Of course, as refugees, they had smelled worse, so there were no extreme reactions.

Li Po began to add seasonings continuously. This was exactly why he felt he had to make money; while the offal from cows and sheep might be free, the seasonings certainly cost money.

This time, thanks to Li Er, he hadn't had to spend any money, but that surely wouldn't be the case in the future. The smoke was thick, stinging Li Po’s eyes until they watered. Finally, feeling that it was just about done, Li Po plopped down on the ground and habitually slapped Li Chun on the shoulder.

"Look closely. There’s no secret to this pot, just one thing: you must use plenty of scallions, ginger, and garlic. The soup must be thick. If we had some spice, it would be even better, but we don't, so we have to make do with what we have. The flavor must be strong to mask the gamey smell."

Li Chun fiddled with her red, swollen hands, waving them in front of Li Po while nodding vigorously. The other men had heard enough and instinctively kept their distance from the two siblings. It sounded like a family secret, and while Li Dalang was an upright man, they could not be ungrateful enough to steal his trade.

"The main ingredients should be sheep intestines, liver, and lungs. Beef won't do; it's too tough, and if you insist on using it, it wastes too many ingredients."

"This dish is filling, much like meat, but it must be cleaned thoroughly. Otherwise, not only will the taste be poor, but it will easily make people sick."

"If you pair it with flatbread, it will be even more delicious..."

As he transitioned from lecturing a boy to a girl, the tone of his teaching shifted slightly. Yet, as he spoke, Li Po felt his own mouth watering, and he couldn't stop gulping.

"Big Brother... we didn't go to collect porridge today."

"Why beg for handouts when we can feed and clothe ourselves? Remember this: things you get by holding out your hand don't taste good, and you'll never get anything worth having that way."

Li Po’s face grew stern, which frightened Li Chun. She hunched her shoulders and nodded repeatedly, though she was grumbling to herself—Xiao Chun just wanted to say she was hungry, why be so scary? Li Po huffed twice, feeling a slight sense of satisfaction. A child's values must be cultivated from a young age...

The meal took all day to prepare, and everyone in the room was famished, yet no one dared to mention collecting porridge again. As evening approached, Li Po finally decided it was ready. Truth be told, his tools were inadequate; otherwise, it wouldn't have taken so long.

Making a delicious batch of offal requires slow simmering until the broth is fully infused with flavor. The most important component is the "old broth." The first time requires all this effort, but later on, it wouldn't be so difficult. By keeping the broth and letting it thicken over time, it could serve as a permanent base.

When the lid was lifted, the smell was still not very pleasant. But there was no help for it; when it came to meat dishes, everything depended on the seasonings.

And so, a room full of people—some sitting on the floor, some standing, some squatting—gathered together. The sound of slurping filled the room, as if they were in a pigsty. Bowls were scarce, so they used whatever vessels they could find.

Offal isn't much to look at, and those who haven't eaten it wouldn't have much of an appetite just from the smell. But for these starving refugees, there was no discomfort at all; everyone ate with gusto. Li Po was no exception. It was only when he was on his second bowl that he realized the flavor was far from exquisite, though the texture was decent. He couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia for the camp on the grasslands.

The knocking on the door had been going on for a while before anyone in the room noticed. When the woman opened the door, she was startled; outside stood five or six men, each with a fierce, scarred face—they clearly weren't the friendly sort. The man at the front had graying hair and was quite old, but his expression was as somber as if he were attending a funeral.

He poked his head into the room and immediately covered his nose; the stench was truly overpowering. When he saw the room full of people, his facial muscles twitched. The woman retreated into the house, and the men immediately set down their bowls and chopsticks, surrounding her. Regardless of age, in that instant, everyone was filled with a sense of grim determination to defend their territory.

However, the situation was completely different from what they had imagined. Once Li Po stepped forward to inquire, he learned that the man was the market inspector—essentially the equivalent of a local constable.

Throughout the day, people had been coming and going, leaving behind blood and filth, followed by the thick black smoke from the backyard. Combined with the fact that this was known as a "haunted house," by midday, the merchants in the market were already terrified. Someone had gone into the city to fetch this man.

The inspector himself was extremely reluctant. It was freezing cold, he didn't want to get near that house, and furthermore, he couldn't figure out the background of the house's new owner, so he was even less inclined to stir up trouble. But he was out of luck; he wasn't as tough as the other inspector, so he had no choice but to come.