Chapter 202: Revisiting the City God on New Year’s Eve
It was the thirtieth day of the twelfth lunar month. The kitchen was thick with smoke, a mix of the scent of dried firewood, the burning logs, and the fragrant aroma of rice cooking. Together, these smells created the essence of everyday life.
In front of the stove sat a tiny stool. On it, a little girl, dressed in a tricolor outfit, looked small and delicate, diligently tending the fire.
The firewood they had bought just days ago was pinewood from the mountains, and when it burned, it gave off the distinct scent of pine branches. The wood burned easily, requiring little effort to maintain.
Most of the time, the little girl sat still in front of the stove, her gaze fixed on the flickering flames. She was trying to absorb the spiritual resonance of the fire, just as the Daoist had instructed her.
However, her mind was often blank. She enjoyed selecting a straight, thin piece of wood to serve as an accomplice for burning the other logs, promising to carefully use it before finally burning it last.
“Whoosh…”
The little girl poked a stick into the stove’s opening, skillfully adjusting the firewood inside. Seeing the sparks fly and the flames burn brighter, she felt a great sense of accomplishment.
Nearby, the Daoist was slicing meat. He was cutting the preserved pork they had made earlier.
The freshly cooked pork was warm on the outside but still hot inside. The knife was razor-sharp, and the Daoist wielded it with practiced precision. With a single slice, the pork released a slight sheen of oil, revealing a thin, delicate piece of meat.