Xie Yan twisted his body, leaning across the table and reaching for Lu Yang’s hand.
“Wu Pingzhi said to get a shopkeeper and a few assistants to help us sell goods. I refused. Then he said he would bring two people himself—I couldn’t refuse that. Li Feng just said that when the delivery men arrive, we’ll go together. With so many people, it should be fine.”
Lu Yang wanted to laugh. “Hong Chu only brought two guards. How many am I bringing? Someone seeing this might think trouble is coming for me.”
Xie Yan laughed softly. “Big family businesses come with big trouble. Look at ours—we were only a bit wealthier than the others in the village, and we were still noticed. For a family like the Hongs, seeking wealth and causing harm is completely normal.”
Lu Yang showed Xie Yan what he had written. “See? I didn’t lie. This isn’t the imperial exams, only every three years. I really don’t mind missing this one.”
Xie Yan took the paper, noticing he had mentioned the engraving workshop and the study room. Suddenly he remembered something and said, “Oh, I was thinking today—I could ask someone to review the essays, then bind them into books to sell outside. I haven’t seen such books, but from my perspective, if they appear in a study, I’d look through them. I have a good memory; I’m different from other scholars. If people like what they see, even with money, they’ll buy it. Do you think this is the moment you’ve been waiting for?”
Lu Yang had yet to open a study because the silver on hand was barely enough to fund one, and the return would be slow.
A proper moment required a “hit” book—like The Civil Service Answer Manual—one that would sell out quickly, recovering costs fast. With silver in hand, he could handle unexpected events.
Xie Yan had thought about this in the morning, asked classmates at the academy, and found they were willing to read annotated essays.
Currently, few essays had commentary. Seeing others’ opinions was good for them.
Lu Yang didn’t understand essays. Xie Yan said it was good, so it was good.
Too bad he hadn’t asked Wu Pingzhi—a man who could read and do business—someone who would have a sharp judgment about this type of book.
Lu Yang stood, stretched, moved his legs, and called Xie Yan to the bed to rest.
“This idea of yours is good. After your provincial exams, organize some essays for me. When my godfathers come to the city, we can engrave them. Sell them by the end of the year—perfect timing for the New Year. The first silver of the year will be earned by you. Are you happy?”
Xie Yan let him enter the mosquito net first, laughing all the way, climbed onto the bed, and hugged Lu Yang, laughing together for a long while.
“We haven’t earned anything yet. Jingzhi, stop imagining so much. Today you drew too many cakes—you won’t finish them all!”
Lu Yang laughed. “Just a few cakes? I can keep drawing!”
He spoke from the heart. “A Yan, do you know how I felt seeing Hong Chu today? I felt my heart lighten. I didn’t expect the young master to take on such a huge family business. These past two years, I’ve been busy doing many things, but in the city, I’ve been cautious. I always remember Uncle Wu’s losses in the city, remember why the God of Wealth was so strict about studying, remember how hard it’s been for us to get here. I just wanted to be steady. Now I have a new goal. Hearing from the God of Wealth about the shop business makes it even clearer. To earn that silver, I need to do certain things.
“I’ve always been afraid of being satisfied too early, which is why I delayed opening a study—I wanted something to drive me. Now I’m not afraid. I can have a goal and keep moving forward. Meals are eaten bite by bite. Silver isn’t earned by drawing cakes. Later, I’ll have many things to do. I can open a study, buy fertile land, acquire shops. I can invest in workshops, even buy them outright. Earn silver, accomplish things one by one. I also want to buy a house—have a home entirely ours. Look, there’s a long road ahead. I won’t rush.”
Lu Yang unconsciously showed his softer side. Strong, confident in all he did, he always had a plan. People around him could follow his lead.
Turns out, he could also feel lost, could be afraid.
Being satisfied too early meant achieving goals prematurely, losing a sense of purpose.
Xie Yan had always thought him confident. Their time together, their love, had shown him his worth. Yet fear remained.
Xie Yan rolled over on top of him, lowered his head, kissed him on the cheek and lips, eyes gentle.
“Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you. You’re not doing anything wrong—you just want to do business. It’s fine. I’ve got it. Go steady, take it slow, wait for me a bit, and I’ll catch up.”
Lu Yang gently pushed him, eyes reddening. They gazed for a moment. Before tears fell, he lifted his head to kiss back, arms wrapped around Xie Yan, sinking together into the night.
Having seen their brother and brother-in-law, Lu Liu discussed with Li Feng whether to go set up a stall at the grand market.
He was excited. He told Li Feng his eyes had been opened; he’d seen everything.
He couldn’t imagine how wealthy the market merchants would be or if throwing a thousand coins was really like that.
The couple had no further opinion. They only waited for Lu Yang’s decision. If he said to go, they’d go.
The grand market opened early the next morning. That night, nothing happened—they went to bed early.
For some reason, Lu Liu couldn’t sleep.
It felt as though he had wandered all day, been excited all day, only to awaken from a dream at night.
Awake, his body and mind were exhausted. Opening his eyes, he saw he was in their little home, lying beside his man, everything as usual.
Feeling Li Feng’s warmth, he was inexplicably anxious.
The summer night was hot; the windows were open, the room stuffy.
He grew more restless, breathing heavier. When Li Feng asked something, he reacted like he’d been startled: “Did I wake you?”
Li Feng hadn’t slept either. He asked, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
Lu Liu pressed his lips, hesitating.
Li Feng had to be up early as a guard, so chatting now might disturb him.
He tried to brush it off, but Li Feng asked directly: “Are you worried the grand market is dangerous?”
Lu Liu didn’t nod. After a pause, he said, “If you say we can go, I trust you. I’m just hot. I’ll fan myself; you sleep. I’ll fan us both.”
The fan was in Li Feng’s hands. He had his mother weave a large palm fan, fanning vigorously, while holding Lu Liu close. His large hand felt damp; he had Lu Liu stand to wipe sweat.
Lu Liu obeyed, quietly removing clothes in the dark, wiping down with a sweat cloth, putting on the sleeveless vest by the pillow.
It belonged to Li Feng, who slept shirtless because it was too hot.
Lu Liu lay back, listening as Li Feng recounted going up the mountain:
“I often heard old hunters say, greed is the greatest taboo in the mountains—more important than hunting skill. Those drowned knew swimming; those killed on the mountain knew hunting.
“At first, I couldn’t grasp greed. Many times we returned empty-handed, only catching a few snakes. If I didn’t catch them, they’d bite me.”
Lu Liu, long absent from mountain stories, listened intently, lying against him, arms around his chest, fingers touching his neck, feeling the pulse, matching the heartbeat.
Li Feng’s heartbeat was steady. Listening to it, Lu Liu’s own slowed.
Li Feng’s tone held nostalgia, though he’d left the mountain not long ago.
“When I first went with Wang Meng, we kept an eye on each other—neither daring to be greedy. Long after, we descended, covered in blood, empty-handed. Ridiculous. We held our anger, agreed not to take more than necessary. Any game we killed had to be carried down.
“You don’t know—it’s hard carrying prey down. The scent of blood attracts predators, including us. We learned from the old hunters: like other beasts, we marked territory with urine, pretending to be powerful. Usually it scared off some predators. The rest was a brutal fight.”
