Inside the house, the stove by the earthen kang was burning brightly, the firewood crackling in the hearth. An iron hook hung from the rafters, supporting a wire rack piled with roasted chestnuts and sweet potatoes, which were being slowly baked by the residual heat of the fire.
Aunt Shan had specifically moved a small stove to the veranda to watch the commotion. She handed a few chestnuts, their shells cracked to reveal golden meat, to Zhao Wu and his companion. "Shitou is just a little kid; how could he have smothered a piglet? A pig over two months old isn't exactly small—how could a five- or six-year-old child possibly hold one down?"
Indeed, a two- or three-month-old pig, when standing, was taller than a five-year-old child; it wasn't like a small chick or duckling that could be easily grabbed.
Chapter 89