Chapter 17.1

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Xie Zheng, his face cold and composed, draped a cloak over his shoulders as he rose from bed. Leaning on his crutch, he stepped out the door only to see Fan Changyu descending from the attic. In one hand, she held an oil lamp, and in the other, a flailing gyrfalcon whose feathers were now a chaotic mess.

When she spotted Xie Zheng, she appeared mildly surprised. “Did I wake you up?” she asked.

The gyrfalcon, which had been subdued after a few slaps, perked up pitifully the moment it saw its master. Letting out soft, feeble cries—nothing like its earlier hysterical screeches—it resembled a scolded chick, its feathers disheveled and sticking up, a far cry from its earlier sleek, glossy appearance.

Xie Zheng was silent for a moment before speaking. “This is…?”

Fan Changyu shook the gyrfalcon in her hand with a broad grin. “I’ve seen this gyrfalcon hovering around here a few times. Since I happened to buy an old hen today, I thought I’d set up a trap to try catching it. Turns out, it actually worked!”

Ordinary birds of prey could only carry off small chicks, but this gyrfalcon was exceptionally large. When it spread its wings, the span was nearly a meter, and its strength was astonishing. As it struggled on the rooftop, it even managed to tear a hole in the roof. If Fan Changyu hadn’t gone up to investigate the noise in time, it likely would have escaped the trap and fled. It wasn’t until she landed a few firm slaps on it that the bird finally settled down.

“I’ll take it to the market tomorrow morning,” she said. “Let’s see if I can trade it for a few taels of silver.”

The gyrfalcon continued to fix its round, beady eyes on its owner, looking utterly pitiful.

Xie Zheng couldn’t bear to look at the foolish bird. With a cold expression, he calmly lied, “There’s no market for live birds of prey like this. Its meat is tough and sour, not worth eating. As for keeping it, ordinary households couldn’t afford to, and without being trained by a falconer, its wild nature is hard to tame. It’s dangerous and could easily harm people.”

“Oh, I see.” Fan Changyu’s face fell, disappointment written all over it.

Scratching her head, she added, “But this gyrfalcon has an injured leg from the trap, and it broke a wing struggling on the roof beams. If I release it back into the wild, it probably won’t survive the winter.”

The gyrfalcon let out a weak and pitiful cry at just the right moment.

Xie Zheng hesitated, then said, “I know a bit about falconry. I could try to train it. A properly trained bird of prey like this could sell for over a hundred taels.”

“Huh?” Fan Changyu was surprised at first but quickly became delighted at the prospect of the large bird fetching dozens—or even hundreds—of taels of silver once trained. Suddenly, even the thought of fixing the roof tomorrow didn’t seem like such a big deal.

“Then we’ll keep it for now!”

She promptly found a chicken coop and locked the gyrfalcon inside. Then, taking out some medicine and bandages, she prepared to treat its injuries.

The gyrfalcon shrank into the corner of the coop, trembling. When Fan Changyu grabbed one of its legs to apply ointment and wrap it in bandages, its round, beady eyes were filled with terror, but it dared not move a muscle.

Xie Zheng glanced at the bird’s leg, now bundled up like a rice dumpling, and his eyelid twitched twice.

After finishing the treatment, Fan Changyu squatted by the coop, watching the gyrfalcon with a gaze brimming with affection—an affection directed at the potential hundred taels of silver. “I’ll slaughter a pig tomorrow morning and save you some fresh offal to eat.”

The pork itself had to be saved for selling, but the offal could be used as needed. The pig slaughtered today had its offal fully prepared as braised dishes.

Before heading to bed, Fan Changyu reconsidered. The main hall was too cold, and while her and her sister’s room had a kang (heated bed platform), they hadn’t lit a charcoal brazier. However, considering Xie Zheng’s severe injuries and frail condition, she had already placed a brazier in his room. It seemed like the perfect spot to keep the gyrfalcon safe.

That bird was worth over a hundred taels of silver—it absolutely couldn’t be allowed to freeze to death!

Making a quick turn, Fan Changyu picked up the chicken coop holding the gyrfalcon and knocked on Xie Zheng’s door. Without waiting to see his reaction, she walked in, placed the coop in a corner of the room, and said, “It’s cold at night. Don’t let this gyrfalcon freeze. I’ll leave it in your room for now.”

Xie Zheng’s gaze darkened as it landed on the gyrfalcon. His tone was icy. “…Alright.”

As the door closed, the gyrfalcon’s round, beady eyes met its master’s sharp, gloomy ones. Dragging its injured leg and drooping its featherless, battered wings, the bird trembled in silence.

The next morning, Fan Changyu followed through on her promise. After slaughtering the pig, she brought a portion of chopped pig lungs to feed the gyrfalcon.

The weather outside seemed particularly cold that day. Snow had piled nearly to the threshold, and when the door opened, an icy gust sent shivers through anyone nearby. Looking outside, icicles hung in neat rows from the eaves, gleaming in the cold morning light.

Fan Changyu’s hands were red from the cold. After placing the large bowl of pig lungs into the coop, she rubbed her hands together for warmth and then turned to the man sitting by the bedside. “Today is Dahan (Major Cold), the chilliest time of the year. It’s freezing out there. When you get up, make sure to wear more layers. I’ve cooked mao xue wang (spicy hot pot with duck blood and offal); it’ll warm you right up.”

Xie Zheng nodded to show he understood, though he truly didn’t have much in the way of thick clothing. Not long after, Fan Changyu brought over a heavy jacket that had belonged to her father.

When Xie Zheng put it on, the layers made him look a little bulky, but his tall stature still lent him a refined and striking appearance. The winter jacket was wonderfully warm, shielding him from the biting wind entirely.

Along with the jacket, Fan Changyu had also brought over a dark blue hairband. Xie Zheng immediately recognized it; it was the same one Fan Changyu had tied angrily around her own head during their last argument. His brow furrowed slightly.

By the time Fan Changyu came out of the kitchen carrying a large soup bowl, she saw that Xie Zheng had already gotten up, washed, and dressed. “You’re up?” she said, pleased. “Perfect timing. Sit down, and let’s eat.”

The soup bowl in her hands gleamed with a vibrant red surface, exuding a bold, mouthwatering aroma of spice and Sichuan pepper that filled the air.