When Weifeng finally came over to him, Lu Liu picked it up and stroked its fur. Every time he did this, Erhuang would circle around him, howling, clearly wanting a hug too.
Lu Liu knew fishing took an unpredictable amount of time, so he had deliberately brought along a small comb. He brushed both dogs’ fur until they were so comfortable they lay sprawled under the bright sun, eyes half-closed, their barks light and happy.
Li Feng counted heads and stopped fishing after catching five fish.
He went down to the river to clean them, then came back and rubbed them with salt. He handled the grilling himself.
The smell of fresh fish made Erhuang get up to sniff around. After taking a few steps, it flopped down again beside Li Feng.
Li Feng casually patted Erhuang’s head, then lifted his waterskin and took a drink.
He said to Lu Liu, “Next time we go to the prefectural city, I’ll bring Erhuang with us. We know the road well now, and there are places to stay along the way. We can take it along.”
Dogs couldn’t run as fast as horses, but when they traveled with goods, they had the mule cart. Erhuang would be able to keep up.
And if it couldn’t, they’d just let it ride in the cart.
Lu Liu had no objections. “There’ve been a lot of people going up the mountain lately. Our house is right at the foot of the mountain, and Erhuang stands at the gate every day staring out, looking so pitiful. I can’t go up the mountain myself. I even suggested before that Da Qiang take it up to play, but it wouldn’t go with him. Da Qiang took Hua Niu with him—Erhuang followed for a few steps, then stopped at the gate and wouldn’t go any farther. I told it off with Mother, but it still wouldn’t go.”
“It’s a good dog,” Li Feng said. “It just likes playing with Hua Niu. Deep down, it still loves you.”
Li Feng laughed as he listened and patted Erhuang’s head again.
This year, Hua Niu was going to be paired with Wang Meng’s wolf-headed dog and was being kept at Da Qiang’s place. No one knew what kind of puppies they’d have.
Li Feng couldn’t say either. “Having pups really depends on fate.”
They chatted as they grilled the fish.
Lu Liu didn’t dip his in sauce, eating it simply salted and grilled.
Each dog got a fish too—just enough to fill a gap between their teeth.
Li Feng asked if it tasted good. Lu Liu thought about it for a moment and answered honestly. “The fish is tender and fresh, but a little fishy. It’s not as good as when we cook it at home. Da Feng, every time you talk about food, you make it sound so delicious. You’re really good at describing things.”
Li Feng could only describe food well because he ate with gusto himself.
What he’d made here at home really couldn’t be called especially delicious.
But in the mountains, under those conditions, being able to eat a hot meal at all was already good. Naturally, everything tasted wonderful.
He asked Lu Liu if he wanted grilled meat. Lu Liu did.
He asked if he wanted to eat outside again next time. Lu Liu wanted that too.
Lu Liu smiled brightly. “I want to be with you. Whatever you eat, I’ll eat.”
After spending several hours out—playing, eating—the two of them felt deeply satisfied when they headed home.
Lu Liu saved one roasted egg in a bamboo tube. Li Feng wrapped a grilled fish in leaves. Together they brought them to Mother. She ate the egg but refused the grilled fish.
Li Feng: “……”
Lu Liu leaned against his arm and laughed.
By the time they got home, it was already getting late.
The husband and husband washed up, then went back to their room to check on the children. Seeing them awake, they played with them for a while.
Playing now mostly meant the two of them doing everything they could to amuse the babies—pulling all kinds of ridiculous faces just to coax a smile.
When it was time for dinner, they ate. Lu Liu washed up first, while Li Feng went to feed the dogs, horses, and mule.
Lu Liu prepared hot water and waited for him to come wash his face and soak his feet.
It was quiet while they soaked their feet. Afterward, Li Feng carried the children to Mother’s room.
Lu Liu’s cheeks were flushed. In his mind, he kept repeating what Li Feng had said: if they didn’t talk about it, it wouldn’t be awkward.
He decided to act as if he didn’t know anything and pretend nothing had happened when they met.
When Li Feng came back to the room, Lu Liu urged him to put out the lamp. Li Feng didn’t. Instead, he started stripping off Lu Liu’s clothes layer by layer.
By the time he reached the end, there was no dudou.
Under Li Feng’s puzzled gaze, Lu Liu let out a quiet laugh. Before long, he couldn’t suppress it anymore and started laughing outright. Afraid the sound would carry outside, he covered his mouth as he laughed.
“I knew you were going to strip me,” he said. “I already gave you a surprise during the day. If you saw it again at night, what surprise would that be? If I don’t let you see it, then you’re surprised.”
He’d learned how to be naughty.
His words were so direct, yet his little schemes twisted around several turns.
Li Feng watched him laugh, watched him beam, and as he savored the feeling in his chest, it truly did feel like a surprise.
He still didn’t put out the lamp. Instead, he lunged forward, hugging and kissing him.
He remembered that Lu Liu used to be afraid of being “crashed apart,” so Li Feng had always restrained himself, bracing his body and arms, veins standing out. When he finally moved, it was like fine rain tapping down—light and gentle, like scratching an itch through boots, always missing that final bit.
Lu Liu wasn’t afraid anymore. He said, “Da Feng, I think I actually like being crashed apart.”
So Li Feng crashed into him.
The candle sat on the table, casting a slanted beam of light that threw their shadows onto the wall.
Lu Liu turned his head and saw the two shadows, overwhelming him with embarrassment. Since Li Feng wouldn’t put out the lamp, he went to do it himself.
He was chased all the way to the ground. When he braced himself against the table, he could feel it trembling.
He thought to himself that he was sturdier than the table.
The table would break after a few hits. If he was hit a few times, he’d only become more capable.
Lu Liu lost track of time. When he finally slept, his eyelids felt unbearably heavy.
The next day, the sun rose, and it was a new day again.
Li Feng went to the back courtyard to feed the horses, dogs, and mule. Then he carried water, chopped firewood, and took the diapers down to the river to wash.
On his way back, he picked a handful of wild flowers that bloomed with the coming of spring and placed them in Lu Liu’s brush holder—the one that didn’t have any brushes in it.
Lu Liu woke groggily. There was no man on the kang, and no children.
His heart jumped. He looked around the room, and at a glance he saw the wildflowers blooming on the table.
Small blossoms, some white, some yellow, with long, slender green stems. Everything about them was soft. Set there, they filled the room with the feeling of spring.
Lu Liu got dressed and climbed down from the kang. He picked up the brush holder and leaned in to smell the flowers.
He was awake now. He could open the window.
He propped the window open and happened to see Li Feng in the courtyard, hanging up the washed diapers.
Lu Liu called out, “Da Feng!”
Li Feng turned around. Lu Liu held the flowers up beside his face. “I saw the flowers!”
Li Feng, without ever having been taught, grasped a phrase perfectly: the person is lovelier than the flowers.
On the second day after arriving in the prefectural city, Lu Yang packed things up and took Xie Yan to the prefectural academy.
The restaurant still needed to deliver meals, so the husband and husband went together to leave notes at the restaurant and settle the accounts. Lu Yang gave one tael of silver to cover expenses for a while.
Once the house was settled, Xie Yan would be able to eat at home.
This time, returning to the academy for classes required canceling his leave.
From now on, he would be studying at the prefectural academy. If he didn’t pass the exams, he could study there for several years.
He felt that was unlucky talk and disliked it intensely. Before entering, his expression was deeply resentful, and he kept looking back every few steps. Only after Lu Yang coaxed him a bit—telling him he was the best and would definitely pass—did he happily go inside.
During the New Year, Xie Yan had followed along to visit several relatives. Overall, it hadn’t been too busy.
He had already completed one volume of his chess manual, and it was worth looking at. After canceling his leave with the instructors, he first went to the dormitory to drop off his luggage. Without even tidying up, he hurried straight to the quiet study room to deliver the chess manual to Old Master Cui.
The quiet study room had a new gatekeeper—a teaching officer. Xie Yan asked about Old Master Cui’s whereabouts. The officer said, “I don’t know. He went home before the New Year and hasn’t come back since.”
Xie Yan pressed further. “Is he ill? Or just home for the holidays?”
The officer didn’t know.
Xie Yan asked where Old Master Cui lived. The officer didn’t know that either.
Xie Yan stood there for a long while. As other students came to borrow and return books, he was squeezed off to the side. When he turned back and saw the neatly arranged shelves inside the study room, his mind felt strangely empty.
There were classes in the afternoon. He brought the chess manual back to the dormitory, packed his bag with books and writing tools, and went to class first.
His roommate, Ji Mingzhu, went with him and asked, “I heard you canceled your leave? You’re not going home anymore?”
Xie Yan nodded. “Our family’s moving to the prefectural city. We just arrived yesterday. No more running back and forth between two places.”
Ji Mingzhu congratulated him, then asked, “Have you heard about the bandit arrests in the city lately? A few of us are planning to discuss it. Do you want to join?”
Xie Yan always came across as very bookish. In debates like these, he rarely voiced his own opinions. Every time he spoke, it was to take arguments others had already made and turn one against another.
He also liked to take notes. At first he only listened, but later he began rapidly recording and organizing the debates. Those who participated could have their book attendants make copies afterward. During debates, ideas flowed quickly; afterward, they could be slowly reviewed. Xie Yan also kept a tight mouth—aside from constantly talking about his husband, he didn’t like to talk about other matters. Everyone was willing to let him join.
