The little one's purse connects the two worlds, turning a desolate village into a paradise.

On both sides of the road, there were piles of clean, whole chickens, plucked and gutted, laid out naked on the cutting board, their claws outstretched.

It seemed to be waving to Ya Ya.

On the other side was a bustling fish stall, where the smells of fish and freshness mingled together.

Ya Ya stared curiously at the processed chickens. These chickens were different colors—yellow, white, and black!

What kind of chicken is this black one?

She was already walking slowly, and looking around made Yaya walk even slower.

Her short legs were struggling a bit, and her arms were starting to ache, but a little thought popped into Ya Ya's mind:

Since it's already this heavy, adding a little more won't make it any harder to push.

Since we've already bought such a large truckload, and we've seen it, let's buy the chickens too.

Having figured things out for herself, Ya Ya dragged her little cart to the chicken stand.

This is a fairly large and comprehensive stall.

On one side are freshly slaughtered and cleaned chickens from the chicken farm, then transported over for chilling. Each chicken is plucked, gutted, and washed, then neatly stacked.

On the other side was a freezer, full of frozen whole chickens, but not many people were asking about them.

There were also plates of chicken gizzards, chicken feet, and chicken legs.

Business was good at the stall, with people coming and going, all bending over to pick out chickens.

"Sis, buying chicken again?"

"My wife is in postpartum confinement, so please give me another old hen to make soup."

How much are the Three-Yellow Chickens?

"Give me a small, free-range chicken, the meat will be delicious."

"The black-boned chicken looks good today. Want two? Can you give me a discount?"

Ya Ya lingered among the crowd, ignoring the other chickens, and peered towards the pile of dark, indistinct-looking chickens.

After hearing "black chicken" a few times, the stall owner picked up one black-skinned chicken after another in front of her, and she understood that this was called black chicken.

Jet black, that's so apt.

She pricked up her little ears, listening to the chatter of the older women around her, and soon understood what they were saying:

Black-boned chicken, with its black skin and bones, is a nourishing food when stewed in soup.

Old hens are also nutritious; the soup is especially rich, yellow, and fragrant, replenishing vital energy and warming the stomach.

Free-range chicken meat is firm and becomes more fragrant the longer it is stewed.

There's also the cheapest kind of chicken, which you can stir-fry because it cooks quickly.

Ya Ya looked at the chickens in front of her, glancing at each one.

I wondered to myself: Why is that stupid chicken the most expensive?

The dumbest are often the most valuable.

I can't tell the difference. Do the people here have a special way to tell whether a chicken is smart or stupid?

So the others are smart chickens?

Ya Ya thought for a moment and decided that she couldn't buy a stupid chicken; she would buy a smart chicken instead.

There's only a little space left in the shopping cart, let's buy... two!

I want one black one and one white one.

She stood on tiptoe, waving vigorously between people's legs, and called out to the boss as others did.

The stall owner didn't see it at first, but after squinting at the sound, she noticed a little head tucked between the people, grinning at her and waving its little hand.

"Little friend, what do you want to buy?"

Ya Ya pointed her little finger at the black-boned chicken in front of her: "I want one of these...this black-boned chicken! And one of these white-skinned chickens!"

The stall owner smiled and glanced at them. "Black-boned chicken is 13 yuan per jin, and whole chicken is 8 yuan per jin. Would you like these two?"

He picked up one in each hand and gestured to Ya Ya.

"Mmm!" Ya Ya nodded.

The price is within my budget, so I'll buy it!

"Two catties and two ounces of black-boned chicken, 28.5 yuan; two catties and two and a half catties of whole chicken, 20 yuan. Total, 48.5 yuan."

A kind auntie nearby handed Ya Ya the packed chicken and then handed the money to the owner for her.

After buying the chickens, Ya Ya moved to a less crowded spot, opened the cart lid, and carefully stuffed the two chickens into the cart box, one in each corner, until they were perfectly secured.

Then snap the lid on.

Two little hands gripped the handle of the cart, and with a push, it became heavier. The beggar's chicken hanging on the pole was no longer steaming much, and it swayed precariously.

"Heave-ho, heave-ho—"

Ya Ya cheered herself up in her heart, slowly pushing the stroller to find a secluded corner. She went into the alley and couldn't see anyone, so she stopped and shook her stiff little hands.

Waiting for Xiao Hebao to take her home.

Today was another very fruitful day!

The little purse gradually began to tremble and heat up, and Ya Ya gripped the stroller handle tightly.

The fish underneath were weighed down by bottles and jars, and there was no water to begin with. After the little guy bought the chicken, most of them were practically squeaking. Only a few stubborn cucumber fish were barely keeping their gills open.

After the little red dumpling and the cart disappeared, a few tiny fish fell to the ground.

……

The village chief and a few others were sitting at the table, resting their chins on their hands, waiting for Ya Ya to return.

Zhao Hu suddenly sniffed sharply, his brow furrowing:

Why does it smell so strongly of fish?

As he spoke, he turned around and glanced at the kang (a heated brick bed).

I saw Ya Ya holding a small cart, and it seemed that water was still dripping from under the cart, and the fishy smell was coming from there.

Even Granny Liu, an elderly woman with a somewhat dulled sense of smell, could smell it now.

Zhao Hu was startled and quickly reached out to lift the cart. It was surprisingly heavy to lift with one hand, so he quickly used his other hand to support the bottom of the cart.

It's all wet.

"Goodness, what did my little girl bring back? It's all wet and fishy."

The beggar's chicken hanging from the handle of the small cart swayed and tapped Zhao Hu's head, sometimes smelling fishy and sometimes smelling delicious.

Grandma Liu quickly grabbed a cloth and wiped the mat on the kang before helping Ya Ya down.

Ya Ya plopped down on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), shook her little hands, and snuggled into Grandma Liu's arms. This trip had really exhausted her.

You need to eat more of the milk and milk powder that Sister Hemiao bought to grow stronger.

Grandma Liu gently took Ya Ya's little hand and rubbed it little by little, her eyes full of heartache.

In the corner of the room, Zhao Hu and the village chief were already tidying up the cart, which reeked of fish and meat and needed to be cleaned up as soon as possible.

First, he took the bag off his hand. A rich aroma of roasted meat mixed with the scent of oil wafted out, so strong that it couldn't be blocked even through the bag. The aroma made Zhao Hu's head spin and his stomach rumble.

They only eat two meals a day, and don't eat after noon, so how could they resist this aroma?

Zhao Hu took a deep slurp before carefully placing the golden-brown roasted chicken on the table, then reached out to lift the lid of the trolley.