Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Art of Slaughtering an Ox

Nevertheless, Qiu Fengyu still invited the two of them to try his hotpot fish slices together. Despite her gloomy mood, April didn’t eat any less. The fish was large, but the three of them polished it off completely, and finished a dozen beers. The spicy fish slices entered their mouths, followed by a gulp of beer—the taste was simply exquisite.

“If it weren’t for this mission, I’d definitely be friends with you,” Anthony said with feeling after the meal, turning to Qiu Fengyu, “Your cooking alone is enough to win me over.”

“I don’t like dealing with government people,” Qiu Fengyu shrugged, “Are all your killings officially sanctioned?”

“You mean the two Russians I killed?” Anthony laughed, “I took pictures, and there’ll be a report sent up. These men threatened April’s safety, so… you know the outcome.”

Qiu Fengyu didn’t ask about April’s identity—there was no need.

April didn’t volunteer who she was either, but she was very curious about Qiu Fengyu.

In the end, it seemed no Russians stepped forward to handle the matter. After they found the bodies of the two Russians, they quieted down.

“These bullets are now mostly used by federal agents—FBI. So I suggest ending this investigation here.” The new Russian leader wasn’t reckless; he sat in his office fiddling with a shiny bullet, reasoning that the two Russians were illegal immigrants anyway. It was fortunate the police hadn’t discovered the bodies.

“What about that whore and David Burke…?”

“Let it go. Our power in this city isn’t enough to cover the sky—I don’t want to provoke the FBI, understand?” The boss spoke, and the underlings followed. Once they left the office, however, the boss sat in silence for a long time. Giving up so easily risked discontent among his men, but continuing the investigation could lead to the gang’s downfall in El Paso. They weren’t strong enough to go head-to-head with the FBI.

Things seemed to settle down. Everything resumed as usual.

During his morning run, Qiu Fengyu not only encountered Officer Coffin but also April, the young woman. Yet April was always accompanied by Anthony.

After the run, April and Anthony left, but Coffin called Qiu Fengyu over while wiping his sweat. “Have you figured out their identities?”

“Federal Witness Protection,” Qiu Fengyu smiled, “You can’t interfere.”

“I knew it! Damn!” Coffin couldn’t help but curse, “Let’s hope nothing goes wrong.”

Qiu Fengyu smiled, saying nothing. She didn’t know the FBI agent had already killed two men. But it was best not to mention this to Coffin.

After selling noodles at noon, Britt called Qiu Fengyu, inviting him to watch cattle slaughter.

Because of Texas’s drought, many cattle on the farms lacked adequate feed. Under such circumstances, the surplus cattle had to be slaughtered or sold.

“Take me along,” Davis chimed in as Qiu Fengyu was about to leave.

“You’ve never seen a cow killed?”

“I have, but I’ve never done it myself,” Davis laughed, “Someday I want to try it, to be a true Texas cowboy.”

When they arrived, the slaughtering was taking place near Britt’s farm, on an open patch of land. One cow was already hanging from a crane, head up, hind legs down, gutted and split open.

Another cow stood nearby, nervously grazing. Britt’s whole family was there, including two children, who watched their father handle the cow with great interest.

“Hey, Qiu, have you ever seen a cow killed like this?” Britt greeted Qiu Fengyu with a smile, his hands busy pulling out viscera. These would be burned and buried.

“There’s nothing like this in Ukraine, but I’ve seen cows killed in China—it’s about the same. Do you use guns?” Qiu Fengyu spotted a ******** nearby—Britt’s gun, which Qiu Fengyu recognized.

“Yes, we use guns. Usually, one shot to knock the cow down, then another for good measure…” Britt expertly began to butcher the meat, tossing it into a nearby bin.

“It feels… a bit odd. We always use knives.”

“Want to try?” Britt asked, breaking down the meat piece by piece, lowering the crane and cleaning up, then handed the knife to Qiu Fengyu.

“Slaughtering cattle takes skill,” Qiu Fengyu said with a smile, taking the knife and walking toward the remaining cow. More people arrived, including April and Anthony.

Everyone watched Qiu Fengyu with surprise as he approached the cow with a knife. They rarely used knives; guns made things easier—two shots did the trick.

April, surprisingly, seemed very interested in the process.

During slaughter, cows rarely resist, which is why they aren’t tied up. But when Qiu Fengyu’s knife cut deep, blood sprayed everywhere, startling the crowd into stepping back as the cow’s front legs buckled, letting out a helpless cry.

“Oh my God, that’s… that’s truly brutal,” April recoiled.

“There’s nothing that isn’t brutal. Including this damned life,” Anthony added nearby.

April shot him a glare, said nothing, and watched Qiu Fengyu’s hand move away from the cow’s neck, his entire arm stained red with blood.

This method prevented blood from pooling in the meat, making it tastier. He intended to buy the beef from this cow—whether for noodle soup or for stewing, it would be excellent.

“Wow—” Many gasped at Qiu Fengyu’s artistry in slaughtering.

Meanwhile, Britt had finished his own work. He called his family and Zhenfan to drag the freshly butchered cow over, tie it to the crane, and hoist it up.

“Me or you?” Britt looked at the cow, then at Qiu Fengyu.

“I’ll do it!” Qiu Fengyu took the knife and stood before the suspended cow, ready to skin it.

Qiu Fengyu’s knife work was impressive—whether skinning or butchering, his movements carried rhythm and grace, almost a sense of artistry.

“This guy… he’s something else!” Anthony admired Qiu Fengyu’s skill, the artistic rhythm of his butchering.

“He’s better than you?” April asked Anthony, a hint of provocation in her tone.

“Yes, I think so.” Anthony admitted without hesitation, easily acknowledging the gap between himself and Qiu Fengyu—there was no shame in that. The world was vast, and there were plenty stronger than himself.

April watched Qiu Fengyu, whose skill amazed everyone, and pondered. “If… I mean, if you hadn’t been there that day, would he have saved me? Could he have?”

“He would have saved you!” Anthony smiled, “As for whether he could… do you even need to ask? Afterward, I checked the Russian gang’s activity in El Paso. One case—the killer was never found. But all the Russian bosses were taken out in a single room…”

“You suspect it was him?”

“I don’t know. Without evidence, I won’t jump to conclusions. But… he had ties with people from that day—Silsha, the local woman, and David Burke. His car was parked in Silsha’s garage. I think… there must be a connection.”

“Silsha?” Women are always sensitive about other women.

“A prostitute. She and David Burke were lovers, trying to break free from Russian control. The result—they disappeared that day too.”

“If it’s confirmed he did it, would you arrest him?” April looked at Anthony.

“No… it’s not relevant to my current assignment!” Anthony thought for a moment. “My job now is to protect you, until that bastard is brought to justice.”

April said nothing, turning her attention to the ring, where Qiu Fengyu was nearly done butchering the beef. The cuts were neat, the chunks uniform.

“Incredible. To turn cattle slaughter into such an art—you’re the first I’ve seen do it,” Britt said to Qiu Fengyu, taking the knife from him.

“I want to buy this beef,” Qiu Fengyu said.

“Take as much as you want!” Britt agreed readily.

Once all the work was finished, Britt gathered the cow’s viscera, poured vegetable oil over them, torched the remains, and buried everything, covering the bloodstains with dirt.

They loaded the beef from both cows onto the pickup truck, and people slowly dispersed—the day had been an eye-opener, not least for witnessing the artistry of cattle slaughter.

“You’re really brutal!” April remarked to Qiu Fengyu as she walked up, then laughed.