Chapter 135: Chicken Blood Vine – No Pork, Just the Stick

Being surrounded by so many people, Chu Yue had to admit—it felt unfamiliar, yet… not entirely unpleasant.

She increasingly felt that she truly belonged in this world, in this era, in this courtyard community.

It was just that the sound of the suona (a traditional Chinese woodwind instrument) was too piercing, drilling straight into one’s ears. Listening to it for too long could give you a headache.

As everyone’s eyes were glued to the slab of pork, Chu Yue also looked over, her bright eyes slightly lighting up.

But what she was looking at wasn’t the evenly marbled pork, but rather—the wooden stick used to hang the pork.

That piece of wood, while called a “stick,” wasn’t straight like an ordinary one. It was gnarled and twisted, with rough, yellowed bark. One glance and you could tell it was from an old tree.

The ends of the wood had been cut, revealing rings in a circular pattern—nothing unusual in itself, since most trees grow this way. What was unusual was that the color at the cut ends was red.
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The stick had been cut some time ago, so the red had darkened into a duller shade, making it easy to miss unless you looked closely.

But if it had just been freshly cut—it would have been a vivid, bright red.

With just a few glances, Chu Yue instantly recognized it was no ordinary wood—it was chicken blood vine (Ji Xue Teng).

Chicken blood vine grows slowly, cannot be cultivated artificially, and is only found in the wild on mountain slopes.

It may look like ordinary wood, but in fact it’s a rare traditional medicinal herb. It’s known to relax the tendons, improve blood circulation, nourish the blood, and relieve pain from menstrual cramps.

When Chu Yue went up the mountain previously, she hadn’t seen any chicken blood vine. She didn’t expect that such a rare medicinal herb would be used by the villagers as a common wooden stick. What a shame.

When Han Shi tried to offer her the pork, Chu Yue shook her head.

“Captain Han, I appreciate your kindness, but this pork is too valuable. I can’t accept it. You’d better take it back and share it with everyone at the commune.”

“How can that be? We killed the pig and saved the best cut especially to thank Comrade Chu. It’s meant to be a gift—there’s no taking it back. No, no, I insist,” Han Shi flatly refused. He was determined to give her the pork.

Chu Yue replied, “Helping out on New Year’s Eve was something I did just in passing. Now you’re making a big show of gratitude and even bringing pork to my home. If word of this spreads, my good intentions might be misunderstood. Besides, my husband is a soldier in the army. They have rules—not even a needle or a thread should be taken from the people. I follow the same standard—I truly can’t accept it.”

Her reasoning was solid and persuasive. Han Shi wasn’t an unreasonable man; he could understand where she was coming from.

Song Hongmei, standing nearby, chimed in, “Captain Han, I thought you were just coming to express your thanks in words. This really isn’t something Chu girl can accept. You should take it back.”

Han Shi thought for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, then.”

The surrounding women watched the whole exchange, dumbfounded. They began whispering in disbelief.

“The pork was right there in front of her… and she gave it back? So much pork—and Chu girl just gave it up? Oh, my heart aches just watching!”

“It’s not like the pork was for you. What are you heartbroken about? I think Chu girl was right. Doing a good deed is just that—you don’t take anything for it.”

“I agree! Commander Lu earns a high salary. Chu girl isn’t someone who can’t afford pork! Honestly, that big red flower looks better than the pork! I wish I could wear one too.”

“You? Wear a big red flower? Hahaha… maybe in your next life…”

At that moment, Han Shi agreed not to deliver any more pork and patted his chest as he spoke.

“Comrade Chu, I, Han Shi, am a man of my word. You’re a great benefactor to our village. If you ever need help or lack anything, just tell me—I’ll definitely help.”

Chu Yue didn’t stand on ceremony and directly said, “Actually, there is something I want right now. It’s the wooden stick you all use to hang the pork. I think it’s quite nice, and I just happen to need one at home. Why don’t you give it to me?”

Han Shi’s eyes widened in shock. “A… a stick? You just want a wooden stick?”

“Yes, I just want that stick.”

Han Shi turned to look at the stick that was used to hang the pork. It was about as thick as an arm, bent and uneven—barely suitable even for kindling.

He said, “Comrade Chu, that stick won’t do. If your household needs one, I’ll get you a new one.”

“No need. I want that one,” Chu Yue insisted, smiling gently.

And so, the fresh, pink pork was taken down, and the stick it had hung from was handed over to Chu Yue. She touched it, weighed it in her hand—it was unexpectedly heavy. This thing was worth more than the pork.

With the Jixueteng vine in hand, Chu Yue smiled with satisfaction.

The women who had been spectating were dumbfounded—she gave up the pork and took a stick? Was there such foolishness under heaven?

After the lively scene quieted down, Han Shi told the other villagers they could leave, while he stayed back to discuss work matters with Song Hongmei. He also followed Chu Yue and the women into the courtyard.

As the crowd gradually dispersed, Chu Yue took Lu Yuanbao’s hand and was just about to turn around when a gaunt figure suddenly rushed toward her.

Chu Yue instinctively sensed danger. Her grip on the Jixueteng vine tightened, and her body tensed, ready to strike the person at any moment.

However, the figure suddenly dropped to their knees at Chu Yue’s feet. Their rough, bony hands tightly clutched Chu Yue’s pants as they pleaded:

“Comrade Chu, I beg you… please treat me… They all say you’re a miracle doctor… a miracle doctor… Please… Miracle doctor… I’m begging you…”

The woman didn’t say many different words—just repeated the same ones over and over, but that only made the scene more tragic and pitiful.

Worn clothes, a frail body, a face full of wrinkles, and a pair of cloudy eyes.

She looked at Chu Yue as if looking at a divine being, clinging to Chu Yue’s pant leg while begging and kowtowing repeatedly.

“Miracle doctor… please… give me a child… Miracle doctor, I beg you… please…”

When the woman looked up, Chu Yue recognized her immediately—it was the blacksmith’s wife.

The same pitiful woman who had paid a few yuan to buy Wang Chunling’s child from Li Jinhua.

On New Year’s Eve, in that unlit house, when Chu Yue and Lu Zhanlin burst in, the woman was clutching the child in the darkest corner of the room.

Back then, she hadn’t said a single word—Chu Yue had even thought she might be mute.

Frightened and timid, the woman had been terrified of Chu Yue and Lu Zhanlin, but she had mustered all her courage just to hold the child tightly in her arms, unwilling to let go…