Chapter Thirty-Two: Just a Little Taste

Leaving the house and standing under the sunlight, Feng Yuan finally breathed a sigh of relief. Unbeknownst to him, he was drenched in cold sweat from head to toe.

He glanced at the black dog’s blood in his hand—it was useless now—so he tossed it aside in the courtyard. Turning back to look at the closed door behind him, he caught a vague glimpse of a shadow flickering inside.

“Find Young Master Huang? Where am I supposed to look for him?”

Feng Yuan frowned deeply. He recalled that just a few days ago, when he had first moved here, the old man mentioned that the entire family had relocated to the capital of Fuguo. But the capital was vast, and seeking one Young Master Huang there would be no easy task. Even if he found him, why would the man be willing to return?

After all, Feng Yuan didn’t even know him. How was he supposed to explain? That a female ghost, his former lover, yearned to see him one last time and begged him to return? That would frighten anyone out of their wits. More likely, Feng Yuan would be dismissed as a lunatic and thrown out. Matters of ghosts and spirits, though often rumored, were seldom believed.

Besides, he suspected this matter might be Young Master Huang’s own scheme. If everything was within his grasp, Feng Yuan might risk his own life just by seeking him out, perhaps even silenced for knowing too much.

“No, absolutely not.”

Feng Yuan shook his head. This was a tricky situation.

Of course, he could just abandon the matter and abscond with the money, as Lan Qirou could not follow him beyond a hundred meters from the house. If he ran, she would be powerless. But that wasn’t something Feng Yuan could bring himself to do.

Though he was glib of tongue and fond of trickery, there were lines he refused to cross. Some things could be taken lightly, but others not; one must have a basic sense of decency, or else what separates man from beast?

Moreover, Lan Qirou was a pitiful woman, stirring his sympathy. Even without the promise of a thousand taels of silver, Feng Yuan was inclined to help her.

This matter would require careful consideration. For now, the most important thing was... to eat the dog meat.

With that, Feng Yuan strode quickly toward the front courtyard. Even before arriving, the aroma wafted to him, making his mouth water and his stomach quarrel with itself.

As the saying goes: “When dog meat simmers twice, even immortals can’t stand steady.” To Feng Yuan, nothing in this world was more delicious.

“Feng Yuan, where did you run off to? I looked everywhere and couldn’t find you!” At that moment, Fatty Zhang emerged from the house.

“Nothing much, just took a stroll in the back yard.”

“Don’t wander back there! Did you forget what the old man said? The backyard is haunted, full of evil spirits!” Fatty Zhang admonished him sternly.

“Yeah, I know. Is the meat ready?”

“Almost—just needs a little longer to get tender. I was just about to go out and buy a couple jugs of good wine!” Fatty Zhang rubbed his hands together, grinning with delight.

“Perfect. While you’re out, bring back Master He to join us. We should discuss the novel together,” Feng Yuan said.

“Alright, I’ll go now. And no one’s allowed to sneak a bite before I return—especially keep an eye on Hu Xiao! That little girl could eat the whole dog herself. She was drooling just now while it was simmering!” Fatty Zhang warned.

“Enough. You think everyone’s like you? Hu Xiao won’t sneak anything. Go on,” Feng Yuan replied, patting him on the shoulder, then headed for the kitchen, thinking to have Hu Xiao cook more dog meat—just in case there wouldn’t be enough once Master He arrived.

“Xiao, make sure you cook extra—”

He spoke as he walked, but as soon as he entered the kitchen, he found Hu Xiao sitting by the pot, gnawing voraciously on a dog’s hind leg, a pile of bones already heaped on the ground.

So Fatty Zhang was right after all...

Upon seeing him, Hu Xiao’s face flushed with embarrassment and she hung her head, unable to meet his gaze.

“I suppose you’re about to tell me you were just tasting it, right?” Feng Yuan said with a smile.

“Master... I really was just tasting it.”

“And in tasting, you’ve eaten half the dog, is that it?” Feng Yuan pointed to the pile of bones.

“Master... your servant was wrong. I don’t know what came over me—it just tasted so good, and I couldn’t stop. I won’t do it again!” Hu Xiao apologized, her face so aggrieved one would think Feng Yuan was at fault.

Feng Yuan could only shake his head, exasperated. “You, you... Good thing I came early, or you’d have tasted half the pot as well!”

“Master, I’m sorry! If you’re angry, punish me—spank me if you must!” Hu Xiao blurted out, then promptly turned around, bent over the stove, and stuck her bottom in Feng Yuan’s direction. Though only fifteen, she was already well-developed, her hips round and pert.

The posture was so suggestive that it brought to mind scenes from certain foreign films, stirring a forbidden excitement in Feng Yuan. Unable to resist, he brought his hand down on her backside.

A crisp smack rang out.

A soft moan escaped Hu Xiao’s lips—a sound strikingly reminiscent of those films—sending a ripple through Feng Yuan’s heart.

Damn, this is too wicked. What am I doing? She’s still just a girl! Feng Yuan admonished himself, shook his head, and said, “Enough, get up now.”

“No, my mother says a proper spanking is ten swats!”

“If I listened to your mother, you wouldn’t last past three. After that, it’s not a spanking anymore—it’s an injection!” Feng Yuan muttered under his breath.

“Huh? Only three? Injection? What do you mean, Master?” Hu Xiao asked, puzzled.

“Ahem... Never mind. Children shouldn’t ask too many questions—it’s bad for your health. Just focus on simmering the dog meat. And no more sneaking bites!”

Feng Yuan spoke awkwardly; he certainly wasn’t about to explain. It was all too indecent.

“Master, I’m not a little child anymore! The villagers call me Little Milk Cow, and my mother says I’m old enough to bear children!” Hu Xiao pouted, thrusting out her ample chest.

Indeed, though only fifteen, she was already voluptuous, with a sweet, innocent face. In his previous life, such a girl would have long since fallen prey to some lecherous old man.

Feng Yuan felt a flicker of desire, but he could never act on it with someone so young.

“Enough nonsense. Tend to the dog meat, and don’t stick out your chest or say such things again—or I’ll sell you off!”

He spoke gravely, then hurried away. This little minx was already too seductive—who knows what trouble she’d cause when she grew older.

“Why is Master angry? What’s wrong with sticking out my chest?” Hu Xiao wondered, glancing down at herself in confusion.