I'll Raise Pigs to Support You - Chapter 35
The pork stewed with taro was truly delicious. The firewood burned fiercely, nearly stewing the taro to mush. The meat was coated in a thick layer of taro juice, making it incredibly appetizing with rice.
Shen Xizhi watched her eat with such relish, the corners of her lips curling upward. She picked out a piece of meat with just the right balance of fat and lean, placing it in her bowl. “Eat more, it’s all for you.”
Her voice was soft and pleasant.
Song Yugui, however, looked up at that moment, displeased with her words. Her delicate brows furrowed. “What do you mean, ‘all for me’? Aren’t you eating? You should eat too.”
Afraid Shen Xizhi would repeat her earlier habit of being reluctant to take meat for herself, Song Yugui proactively served her several pieces. The young girl was so startled she quickly stopped her, her little face falling. “Enough, enough! I won’t be able to finish this much. Sister Yugui, I really can’t eat this much.”
Her eyes were watery with distress as she stared at the towering pile of meat in her bowl.
How could she give me so much? How am I supposed to finish all this? Sister Yugui is really…
Yet, despite her complaints, an uncontrollable sweetness bloomed in her heart.
Song Yugui didn’t think much of it. To her, that amount of meat wasn’t excessive at all. Still, she said, “Just eat what you can. If you can’t finish, I’ll eat the rest.”
They were both women, and the “villainess” before her smelled so nice—she didn’t mind sharing her leftovers.
Shen Xizhi bit her rosy lips lightly, barely daring to look at her. Her face flushed as she replied in a tiny voice, “Oh.”
She said she’d eat what I can’t finish… but I’ve already taken bites of it…
She wasn’t unhappy. On the contrary, she was overjoyed. She doesn’t mind sharing with me at all.
But that was only natural. After all, wasn’t she her wife?
Shen Xizhi’s eyes curved into crescents as she lowered her head to eat.
She had fried the meat beforehand, rendering out a lot of lard, so even the fatty parts weren’t greasy.
But it was still too much.
As if afraid she wouldn’t have enough, Song Yugui had piled her bowl high with meat.
Shen Xizhi buried her face in her bowl, her cheeks puffing up like a little hamster storing food—adorable beyond words.
While eating, Song Yugui scooped a spoonful of broth and poured it over Shen Xizhi’s rice. “Rice tastes better with broth.”
The broth was rich with taro and meat flavors, perfect for drizzling over rice.
“Mhm, mhm. You should eat more too.”
Since her wife was the one handling all the household chores, she worked the hardest and naturally needed to eat more.
“I am.”
With a few pieces of meat and taro-laden broth, a bowl of rice was quickly finished. Song Yugui leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes to digest her meal when a small hand tugged at her sleeve.
Song Yugui opened her eyes and looked over. “What’s wrong?”
Shen Xizhi stared at the remaining meat in her bowl, her delicate face troubled. She pursed her lips hesitantly. “I… I can’t finish.”
The young girl had a small appetite. Finishing a whole bowl of rice was already commendable. Song Yugui sighed. “Then… give me another half-bowl of rice.”
She had originally planned to eat less today since there wasn’t much to do, but since Shen Xizhi couldn’t finish, she might as well mix the leftovers with rice.
By the end of the meal, a light sheen of sweat covered them, but it was a comfortable warmth. It had been a long time since they’d eaten meat so heartily.
“Should we take a walk to digest?”
Post-meal walks had gradually become a habit of theirs.
Shen Xizhi nodded softly in agreement, standing up to walk over and grasp Song Yugui’s slender fingers. Her dark, glossy eyes fixed on her, waiting for her to lead the way.
Song Yugui didn’t find anything odd about it and simply took her hand as they left.
They didn’t walk for long—it was too cold outside. The moment Song Yugui noticed her wife’s little hands were icy, she hurriedly brought her back home.
Once inside, she rubbed Shen Xizhi’s hands while scolding her. “Why didn’t you say anything if you were cold?”
Shen Xizhi shook her head obediently. “Being with Sister Yugui, I didn’t feel cold.”
Song Yugui’s hands paused briefly before resuming their ministrations. Only when those small hands were warm again did the furrow between her brows ease. She reached up to tousle her wife’s hair. “When you’re with me, you never have to be afraid.”
Shen Xizhi blinked, confused. “Huh? What?”
She didn’t immediately grasp her meaning. Song Yugui sighed and continued, “You can speak your mind. Even if I get upset with you sometimes, I’ll always care for you. I’d never truly be at odds with you. So if you’re cold, say you’re cold. Don’t endure it for my sake. I’m not some terrible person. What’s there to fear, hm?”
Shen Xizhi was sharp. Once explained, she understood immediately. Sister Yugui thought she was afraid of displeasing her, so she’d endured the cold without complaint.
She really is kind… just a little dense.
After spending so much silver to marry me, she hasn’t laid a finger on me. Isn’t that just foolish?
Only knows how to make losing deals. Dummy.
Shen Xizhi’s lashes fluttered. She didn’t explain, instead letting Song Yugui pull her hand away. She then lifted her arms to wrap around her wife’s neck, her expression downcast. “I’m always afraid you’ll stop liking me… that you’ll abandon me.”
Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her pearly teeth lightly biting her lower lip—a picture of pitiable vulnerability.
Used to her affectionate gestures, Song Yugui naturally slid her hands around her waist, her voice softening as she comforted her. “I’d never abandon you. You’re my wife, my only close friend here. How could I ever leave you?”
Even if it came to the point where she had to set the “villainess” free and divorce, she’d still arrange for Shen Xizhi to stay somewhere she could keep an eye on her. That way, her soft-hearted, easily deceived wife wouldn’t be bullied.
Song Yugui’s mind slowly formed a plan as she nuzzled against the fluffy crown of her wife’s head.
Shen Xizhi, however, was anything but pleased in her embrace. Her lips pressed into a thin line.
What does she mean by ‘only close friend’?
Who wants to be your stupid friend? Ugh, this dummy. Always calling me foolish, but you’re the real fool here.
Who marries someone just to be friends?
Some words Shen Xizhi didn’t dare voice aloud, so she could only vent her frustrations inwardly.
The resentment radiating off her was palpable.
So much so that while washing her feet later, Song Yugui couldn’t shake the feeling of being stared at by a resentful ghost, sending chills down her spine.
She hardly dared to lift her head, quickly finishing up before burrowing under the blankets with a contented sigh.
So warm. The new quilts are wonderfully warm.
Lying down felt different from just sitting on the bed during the day. Song Yugui rolled over, muttering, “Why does it feel softer?”
Shen Xizhi, sitting on the inner side of the bed, glanced down at her and replied calmly, “I spread the old quilt underneath as padding. It’s more comfortable this way.”
Oh. Why didn’t I think of that? The villainess really is clever—no wonder even the protagonist almost lost to her.
An inexplicable sense of pride swelled in Song Yugui’s chest.
After a while, realizing she was the only one under the covers, she looked up in confusion. “Aren’t you sleeping?”
Shen Xizhi was currently stewing in resentment, yet her wife remained oblivious, not even bothering to ask.
Dummy.
Her cheeks puffed up in a pout. “Hold me.”
Oh, she wants a hug. Should’ve said so sooner.
Song Yugui obliged, sitting up and wrapping her arms around her in one smooth motion.
Her little wife’s body was soft, as if boneless, and incredibly pleasant to hold.
She gave her a good squeeze before loosening her grip slightly, whispering in her ear, “Ready to sleep?”
Shen Xizhi, having gotten her dose of affection, finally brightened, though her response was still tinged with coyness. Her snow-white body inched closer until she was practically in her lap.
Song Yugui ran a hand down her back—icy cold.
Her brows furrowed in displeasure, mixed with self-reproach.
I didn’t realize she’d been sitting outside the blankets this whole time.
Should’ve called her in sooner. Sitting out there in the cold—what if she catches a chill?
That would be disastrous.
“I know you prefer sleeping without clothes, but don’t sit outside uncovered like this again. If you get a fever, you’ll regret it.”
Who likes sleeping naked? You’re the one who likes it, yet you pin it on me.
Shen Xizhi’s face grew even rosier, nestled in her arms as she was. Still, she couldn’t help a petulant protest. “What nonsense. I’d never… act indecently, hmph.”
“What?”
Song Yugui stared, stunned by the words she’d never expected to hear from her wife’s mouth.
Shen Xizhi buried her face against her chest, her voice muffled and sulky. “I said I’d never act indecently for no reason. Don’t bully me.”
“You’ll regret it”, in Shen Xizhi’s mind, had automatically translated to: If you act indecently, you’ll be in trouble.
Why would she say that about me? I’d never…
The young girl’s heart ached with grievance.
Song Yugui fell silent for a long moment, her lips parting and closing until, just before Shen Xizhi’s tears could spill over, she finally understood the misunderstanding.
The term “fever” didn’t exist in ancient times.
They referred to it more as “excessive heat” or “warm illness.”
Ugh, my big mouth—always causing misunderstandings.
Shen Xizhi, having endured too much unkindness, was naturally sensitive and easily hurt—not to mention prone to tears. How could Song Yugui not be more careful?
She bundled Shen Xizhi into the blankets, the warmth instantly enveloping her.
The spot had already been warmed by her wife’s body heat.
As they lay together, Song Yugui hastened to explain. “‘Fever’ means an excess of heat in the body. If you don’t dress warmly, stay in the cold too long, or experience sudden temperature changes, you can develop a fever. You misunderstood—I’d never say such a thing about you.”
Accuse the villainess of being indecent?
Might as well sign my own death warrant.
Shen Xizhi listened to her earnest explanation, then lifted her watery eyes to glance at her. Though a trace of resentment remained, she was no longer angry. With a soft, sulky tone, she said, “Then hug me properly.”
Song Yugui tightened her embrace, her hands resting properly on her waist, confused. “Aren’t I hugging you? When have I ever not hugged you at night?”
Does the villainess have some form of touch starvation?
Well, it’s not a big deal. If she does, she does.
Shen Xizhi’s feet were perpetually cold. Even with thicker quilts, they remained icy. Song Yugui slid a hand under the blankets to find them, clamping them between her thighs.
Feeling her feet being warmed, Shen Xizhi bit her lip lightly, her small hands resting on Song Yugui’s waist. She peeked up at her with shimmering eyes before quickly lowering them again. Her fingers twitched against her waist as she murmured, seemingly displeased, “But you didn’t hold me like this last night.”
Last night?
Song Yugui’s mind went blank before realization struck. Her grip around Shen Xizhi’s waist tightened, her face flushing crimson. It was as if lightning had struck her.
No way. She remembers?
She knows?
This can’t be real…
Song Yugui refused to accept it.
Her eyes widened in shock, her hands trembling slightly against Shen Xizhi’s waist. Tentatively, she asked, “Last night? How… how did I hold you last night?”
Shen Xizhi’s face turned pink, her toes curling nervously against Song Yugui’s legs. She had always been proper—obedient to her parents in childhood, and to her wife after marriage. She’d never done anything improper. But now, to take the initiative…
How embarrassing…
Her eyes brimmed with unspoken emotions, yet she couldn’t let this slide. Such an outrageous act between a married couple should be commonplace.
So her delicate hand drifted to Song Yugui’s arm, which was wrapped around her, and applied slight pressure, lifting it.
And placing it on a certain soft, plump curve.
The moment her palm cupped that supple flesh, it felt as if the tender mound might spill over.
Song Yugui was stunned. Disbelieving. Her jaw practically hit the bed.
She remembers. She really remembers. Not only that, she’s reenacting it. What does this mean?
Her mind was a tangled mess, helplessly following Shen Xizhi’s lead. The girl fluttered her long lashes, her shy, hesitant voice dripping with sweetness. “This is how you held me last night.”
“I… I held you like this?”
Song Yugui was mortified and desperate to deny it. Flustered, she could only play dumb, but she was a terrible liar. In the dim lamplight, every flicker of panic was visible to Shen Xizhi.
Shen Xizhi pressed her lips together, finding her wife both adorable and innocent. Instead of exposing her, she softened her voice. “Yes, this is how you held me. Really, Sister Yugui, if you wanted to hold me like this, you could’ve just said so. Why sneak around? You scared me so much I couldn’t sleep half the night.”
Though her tone was complaining, her body snuggled closer, her hips even wriggling slightly under Song Yugui’s palm—clearly still seeking affection.
Song Yugui exhaled in relief. At least she didn’t think I was some lecher.
She tried to keep her voice steady, offering a gentle explanation. “Last night, I must’ve been half-asleep and misplaced my hand. If… if you don’t like it…”
Seizing the opportunity, she began to withdraw her hand, but Shen Xizhi caught her wrist and pressed it back into place—firmer this time, her palm fully enveloping that softness.
Song Yugui’s face burned hotter. She suddenly wished Shen Xizhi wasn’t nuzzling into her chest because she felt the urge to bury her own face there out of sheer embarrassment.
But Shen Xizhi wasn’t about to relinquish her spot. Shy as she was, she shook her head slightly, her voice a whisper. “I don’t dislike it. You’re my wife… you can do whatever you want with me…”
Song Yugui took a deep breath, wanting to argue that even as her wife, she couldn’t just do anything she pleased. But the words twisted in her mouth, refusing to come out. She could tell Shen Xizhi actually liked it…
And she had a strong premonition that if she said otherwise, the girl might burst into tears—eyes red, droplets falling—enough to wrench anyone’s heart.
Fine, fine. For an ordinary married couple, this kind of intimacy must be normal.
If Shen Xizhi is willing… then so be it.
Song Yugui reluctantly conceded.
“Then… are you cold?”
The silence stretched, making her restless. She couldn’t help breaking it.
Shen Xizhi shook her head obediently. “If Sister Yugui holds me tighter, I won’t be cold.”
Tighter?
That plump, snowy softness in her palm was already so malleable. Song Yugui stammered an acknowledgment but didn’t act on it.
Any tighter, and her chest might flatten. Wouldn’t that make me a genuine lecher?
Too shameless.
She couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Song Yugui’s ears burned as she buried her face in Shen Xizhi’s silky black hair.
Her mind buzzed with chaotic thoughts, but the day’s events had exhausted her. As the two fell silent and relaxed, drowsiness soon overtook her.
Her eyelids grew heavy, and she drifted off.
By the time Shen Xizhi mustered the courage to speak again, steady breathing already filled the room.
Only she remained awake, heart racing from their conscious intimacy.
It’s fine. There’s plenty of time, Sister Yugui.
Time flew, and soon it was the end of the year. Song Yugui had grown somewhat accustomed to their unique sleeping arrangement.
She constantly reassured herself: Maybe other couples are like this too—they just don’t talk about it openly.
One evening, after her bath, Song Yugui climbed into bed where Shen Xizhi—already clean, fragrant, and bare under the covers—was waiting. The moment she settled in, Shen Xizhi scooted closer, and Song Yugui instinctively wrapped an arm around her, her other hand cupping a certain softness and giving it a squeeze.
Only then did she freeze, realizing just how habitual the motion had become—as if she’d been conditioned.
Absurd.
Shen Xizhi, oblivious to her internal crisis, simply nestled closer.
In a sweet, muffled voice, she asked, “Sister Yugui, are we slaughtering the pig tomorrow?”
“Mhm. I’ve already informed the villagers.”
Not just the villagers—she’d spread the word far and wide. She’d even asked her former colleague Shen Cui to tell her village that she’d be selling pork cheaper than the market price tomorrow, inviting those who hadn’t stocked up for the New Year to come buy.
“Oh. Then I’ll help boil water for you.”
“Okay.”
Seeing her so earnest and obedient made Song Yugui’s fingers itch. Unable to resist, she reached up to pat Shen Xizhi’s hair—only for the girl to recoil in horror, her beautiful eyes wide.
“Don’t touch my head with the hand that just groped my butt!”
Song Yugui: “…”
Leaving aside the fact that it’s your own butt—why are you disgusting yourself? And since when did you start saying “butt” so casually?
This is nothing like the shy, reserved girl I first met.
I’ve definitely corrupted the villainess. Her personality and habits are nothing like the original novel’s… but I don’t hate it.
Song Yugui’s hand slid back down Shen Xizhi’s slender waist, ignoring the indignant protest. Honestly, Shen Xizhi might be bold enough to say it, but she certainly wasn’t bold enough to respond.
Instead, she changed the subject. “Which part of the pig do you like best? I’ll set it aside for you tomorrow.”
Shen Xizhi pondered, resting her chin on Song Yugui’s chest.
This was the first time she’d ever been given a say in something so significant!
After a moment, she whispered, “Let’s just eat whatever’s left. That way we can sell more for silver.”
Song Yugui: “…”
My wife’s a money-minded one too.
She sighed, gently squeezing Shen Xizhi. “That won’t do. We’re buying pork for the New Year—we should prioritize ourselves. We’ll keep whatever doesn’t sell. We can’t let our own holiday suffer.”
That made sense.
Shen Xizhi hesitated before murmuring, “Then… can we have the front leg? We can stew the knuckle.”
Her tone was tentative.
Song Yugui’s eyes lit up. My wife knows how to stew pork knuckles!!!
Amazing. Absolutely amazing.
“You’re incredible, Xiaozhi. You can do anything. I’m so lucky to have you.”
Song Yugui grinned.
Shen Xizhi flushed, nuzzling her cheek against her. “And two spare ribs. I’ll make scallion ribs for you.”
“Yes, yes!”
At the mention of ribs, Song Yugui suddenly remembered. “Have you ever heard of sweet and sour ribs?”
Shen Xizhi’s ears turned pink at the nickname “Xiaozhi.” She shook her head.
“N-No, I haven’t.”
So this era doesn’t have that dish yet. But I really crave it.
“Then I’ll save some pork ribs tomorrow and teach you how to make it.”
She knew the recipe for sweet and sour ribs, but her own cooking skills were mediocre at best—nowhere near her wife’s.
If Shen Xizhi ever meets someone she likes and wants a divorce… how heartbroken will I be?
Unaware of her wife’s gloomy thoughts, Shen Xizhi nodded eagerly. “Mhm, mhm! I’ll learn well.”
Her determination was palpable, as if vowing to master the dish for her sake.
So well-behaved.
Song Yugui’s fingers itched to ruffle her hair again, but she restrained herself. Tiny person, so many rules—disliking your own body.
“Then tomorrow, we’ll keep one front leg and two ribs?”
“Mhm, okay~”
Shen Xizhi drew out the last syllable, unbearably cute.
Song Yugui stretched her arm further, managing to pat the back of Shen Xizhi’s head despite the girl’s protests.
“Good girl.”
“Do you want pork liver?”
Pork liver was delicious stir-fried, but ancient people didn’t seem to favor it much. It probably wouldn’t sell well anyway.
“Mmm… liver is good too. It’ll nourish Sister Yugui.”
Liver replenishes bl00d—she taught me that. Shen Xizhi clearly remembered.
“Silly, you need nourishment too. Look how thin you are.”
“I’ve already gained weight.”
She buried her face against Song Yugui’s chest, her voice soft. She knew her own body best—since Sister Yugui had changed for the better, she’d been slowly filling out.
But Song Yugui seemed blind to it, dismissing it entirely. “Gained what weight? You’re still skinny. Eat an extra half-bowl of rice tomorrow.”
“Ah…”
The girl pouted, but her wife remained unmoved. She could only grumble, “I won’t be able to finish it. I’m already eating so much now.”
Her fingers poked Song Yugui’s waist.
Song Yugui pretended to have fallen asleep, ignoring her.
Shen Xizhi fumed but was powerless against her. She just loves bullying me… and yet, even when she bullies me, I still like her.
Hmph.
With Song Yugui silent, the room grew quiet. The peacefulness of the night soon lulled Shen Xizhi into drowsiness. Her head bobbed slightly before she finally succumbed to sleep in her wife’s arms.
The next morning, as dawn barely broke, the piercing squeals of a pig echoed through the yard. Song Yugui had enlisted Uncle Song and his son—her cousin—to help restrain the pig, tying it up securely.
Many villagers had gathered, along with folks from neighboring villages who’d heard Song Yugui was selling pork cheaper than usual. Home-raised pigs typically sold for a few coins less in the village than at the market, but rumors claimed Song Yugui’s prices were even lower. It was too good a deal to pass up, so even those who disliked Song Yugui had come—though most were middle-aged aunties and uncles, with few young women among them.
Song Yugui paid no mind, coaxing her wife to sleep a little longer before sharpening her knife.