Lu Liu’s hands found their mark on his abdomen—truly remarkable.
After feeding his husband, Li Feng went out to fetch water and helped Lu Liu wipe down. His body still had strength left over.
He wanted to tidy up the dishes and wine on the table, but Lu Liu grabbed his hand to stop him.
“Da Feng, sleep. I’m the one pampering you today; why should you be busy?”
Li Feng didn’t move and, as wished, went up onto the kang to rest.
Their household had changed greatly—from the mountain band to the city, from hunting and gathering to running a business. Each had experienced different fates, and naturally, their hearts had shifted too.
But Li Feng still felt that living under the same roof, Lu Liu’s life wasn’t much easier than his.
The chores inside and outside, the people both big and small, their relationships, even Lu Liu’s small business—all required effort.
Li Feng’s large hands rubbed along Lu Liu’s body, urging him not to overthink.
“I won’t hold back with you. If I’m tired, I’ll just collapse and sleep. I haven’t even used half my strength today, so doing housework is fine. If I didn’t, I’d get restless.”
Lu Liu didn’t resist, letting him massage. After a while, whether startled awake from sleep or having thought it over, he whispered, “I worry about you. When my brother and brother-in-law come back, you should visit the mountain band for a while. Go and stay at An Gege’s home, have a proper meal. Even if you don’t go up the mountain, you can ride, shoot, spar with others, and there’s Er Tian for you to roughhouse with. You’ll feel better.”
Li Feng’s heartbeat steadied and then quickened—his mind stirred.
“I’m a grown man. I don’t need worrying over. If you’re well, I’m well.”
Lu Liu continued rubbing him, “You’re my man, so I worry. I didn’t go hunting, but I remember when your feet swelled and couldn’t fit your shoes. I haven’t socialized outside, but I know how hard it is to read people’s faces. Through cold and heat, you go out early and return late without pause—I’ve seen it all.”
Li Feng felt the warmth sink into his ears and heart. His bones softened, lying there aching to move, wanting to dash to the ground and run.
These were words his mother had said in past years—before he went up the mountain, giving the family silver, delaying marriage year after year. She told him how he had suffered since childhood.
When he experienced it himself, he felt it ordinary.
Hearing the villagers discuss it, he felt nothing; everyone went through it.
But hearing it from close family stirred emotion. His efforts were seen, and all that experience felt worthwhile. His heart brimmed.
He told Lu Liu to hold back his magic, “Xiao Liu, if you keep talking, I can’t take it.”
Lu Liu propped himself up and kissed him on the forehead.
“All right, sleep. Tonight you’ll surely have a restful sleep.”
He was right. Li Feng slept until dawn.
The next morning began anew.
Lu Liu was still combing his hair when Li Feng strode out, carrying bowls and pots to the well in the front yard, drawing two buckets of water, cleaning everything thoroughly.
Running a shop meant leftover stew needed handling—either eaten themselves or added to the dogs’ meal. What was left over at night was fed in the morning. This weather kept it safe.
He lit the stove, added some leftover rice to the soup, then fed the horses. Returning, he prepared the dogs’ meal and checked on the dogs.
With those tasks done, it was time to wash up and eat.
Lu Liu had stewed clay pot porridge the night before.
Li Feng loved it—fragrant and thick. With a salted duck egg or a plain egg pancake, he could easily eat two bowls.
After breakfast, Li Feng played flying games with the two children. After a few rounds, it was time to go out.
He still had to continue networking, bringing in business for the shop.
Lu Liu saw him to the door, straightening his clothes, sighing with a smile.
“Da Feng, you’ve done all the work—what’s left for me?”
Li Feng’s grin was bright. “No work, just rest. I’ll be back tonight and bring you some dragon beard candy.”
Lu Liu reached into his pouch and pulled out two pieces of small silver.
“I have the money, you put in the labor. I’ll wait for you to return.”
Li Feng, coaxed, left the alley with a smile still on his face.
At this moment, the smile wasn’t stiff—it shone brighter than the sun.
………………
September began, and more people came to look at the houses.
Hai Youtian wandered nearby every few days, bringing new potential tenants.
Li Feng and Lu Liu agreed to reserve some units. With the influx of renters, Lu Liu paid a small deposit to secure the house.
Familiar with Hai Youtian, they left someone in the house to drink hot tea and have a few buns.
On sunny days, after meals, Lu Liu had He Qingzao come play in the alley and bring out a bedding set to make into winter clothes. Catching him at it, He Qingzao held the quilt, grateful to Hai Youtian.
Coming from the village, he’d rarely had good clothing. He’d hoped marrying a scholar would bring some dignity, but life after marriage was worse than at his mother’s home.
Previously, he thought of Liu Youli wanting to study, with all the expenses. Cold weather meant stuffing straw into his clothes—just bear it. Now, knowing Liu Youli’s malice, he understood: survival was just luck, otherwise, it was over.
When Liu Youli left without taking the quilts, He Qingzao had enough for warmth, combined with the two quilts Hai Youtian brought. Quilts taken to be remade into clothes were old.
Hesitating, he tried several times to say he wanted to make a set of clothes for Hai Youtian as well but couldn’t. He could only promise to send Hai Youtian a jar of salted duck eggs later.
Hai Youtian smiled in agreement. In winter, with scarce vegetables, salted duck eggs were good for meals.
Lu Liu sat nearby, sewing rabbit fur onto the edges of the clothes, making fuzzy trims, and showing them on Xiao Mai and Zhuang Zhuang—they looked lively and adorable. He hurried to finish them, so the children could wear their fluffy little outfits.
He also spoke with He Qingzao. When he first lacked winter clothes, his mother reminded him to make pants in addition to coats.
He said, “Zao Gege, after the coat, make a pair of pants. Leave some cotton to make two pairs of boots for rotation. After that, little cotton left—make a cap to wear.”
He Qingzao listened carefully. His new life was good, full of hope.
But it was September. With the provincial exam over, scholars returning home might still seek out Liu Youli.
Mid-September would bring a big market.
When Wang Meng and Da Qiang visited, Lu Liu had them draw dumplings, promising a sight to remember.
Before the day arrived, they came early, bringing many goods—beyond mushrooms, there was honey, furs, and precious herbs.
Honey and furs went to Lu Liu; herbs to the dock shop; mushrooms rented in the warehouse at the dock.
Also present was the chieftain’s eldest grandson, Li Fei, twelve years old, with thick eyebrows, bright eyes, a spirited child.
Lu Liu arranged housing for everyone.
That day they held a welcome banquet.
All were brothers—Li Feng didn’t hold back. After eating and sleeping well, they all went out to work.
Especially Li Fei—Li Feng treated him as a young successor to be trained. The future of the shop rested in the Li clan; he took Li Fei under his wing.
Da Qiang and Wang Meng assigned them rough work, going to “stick cold butts” (a playful local term for begging or social visits).
Being fathers, shamelessness was part of it. Even Da Qiang, with his sharp tongue, spoke kindly. Back home, Wang Meng teased him repeatedly, and everyone mimicked each other’s expressions and tones, creating a lively atmosphere.
Lu Liu didn’t go out with them—he stayed near the academy, selling fur products and hats.
