After listening to the old Taoist's vivid description, Ji Huan stared at him for a long time with a complicated expression.
"The only thing left at Ji Xiu'e's house is an ox, right? …Were you born in the year of the Ox?"
"I was born in the year of the Pig."
Ji Huan recalled the pig that had died from ramming its head into a wall. She sighed, "Why be so cruel to your own kind?"
The old Taoist was busy stuffing his face and didn't hear clearly. "What was that?"
Ji Huan shook her head. "Can I ask why you spared only the ox?"
"Well, it's a rule of my Taoist sect. We don't kill oxen or eat beef."
Ji Huan's face lit up with mock realization. "Oh, so your sect *does* have rules!"
The old Taoist finally realized Ji Huan was taking a jab at him, and he huffed, his beard twitching in indignation.
"I treat you as a dear friend, and you mock me for having no principles? You should think about who I'm doing all this for!"
