Shi Wuxiang had originally intended to eat downstairs with them, but Zhang Xiang and Wen Hao insisted they go upstairs. Unable to refuse, he agreed.
Besides, it was cooler upstairs.
They had a small private room for meals. Shi Wuxiang brought them in to wait. Hearing movement, Zhang Xiang and Wen Hao quickly came over.
They had seen Yuan Zhao before, but this was the first time meeting him as “Shi Wuxiang’s husband”—the feeling was naturally different.
“Brother Shi’s husband!” Zhang Xiang greeted.
“Sorry to trouble you…” Yuan Zhao stood and greeted them, then nudged Yuan Yuan. “This is Scholar Zhang, and that is Scholar Wen.”
Yuan Yuan obediently greeted them.
Zhang Xiang wanted to pat his head but held back, remembering he was a ge’er.
The restaurant usually provided meals for staff like them, so what they were eating now was not unusual.
Only when Yuan Zhao saw the dishes did he realize—Shi Wuxiang had deliberately ordered better food for them.
He and Yuan Yuan liked sweeter dishes—what Shi Wuxiang considered “children’s food.” Shi Wuxiang himself ate more lightly, clearly prioritizing them.
“How was business today?” Shi Wuxiang asked after swallowing his food.
Yuan Zhao, now used to how he spoke in front of others, simply answered the essentials. “Pretty good. Good thing I brought enough—otherwise it would not have been enough to sell.”
“Good,” Shi Wuxiang replied, not pressing further. “The restaurant has been receiving watermelons recently. I will buy one for you to take back—if you do not feel like eating dinner, you can eat that instead.”
Who would not want to eat rice? Grain was precious.
But outside, whatever his husband said, he would agree.
That slice of watermelon earlier—Yuan Zhao had only taken one bite, but the sweetness lingered. If they bought a whole melon, he would eat one slice… no, two!
After eating, Yuan Zhao thought he could rest—but Shi Wuxiang insisted on talking.
He really did not know how to behave… but Yuan Zhao was very tolerant.
They sat chatting in a small back room.
“Did you run into any trouble?” Shi Wuxiang asked. “Tell me—I will help you think of a solution.”
“I have so much to tell you, but you only have this little time—not enough at all,” Yuan Zhao complained. “You are so inconsiderate.”
“I am inconsiderate now?” Shi Wuxiang snorted. “Then tell me what you can. The rest tonight.”
“I ran into Scholar Cheng and Scholar Fu today,” Yuan Zhao said. “They are your friends. I gave them wraps, and they now know we are married.”
“That is fine,” Shi Wuxiang said. “It is the truth. Was it hot working?”
“Very hot… Oh right, the vendor next to me said I should build a shade canopy, but it is too troublesome. And we are renting the cart.”
In the end, it all came down to money.
Shi Wuxiang thought for a moment. In his previous life, small vendors often used large umbrellas for shade.
“I will have a craftsman make one for you,” he said. “That is a small matter. There is something else I want to discuss tonight.”
Yuan Zhao immediately nodded. He liked that Shi Wuxiang discussed things with him.
When it was time, Shi Wuxiang escorted them out through the back door. Spotting a watermelon vendor, he bought two—one for now, one to cool in the well.
“We are heading back,” Yuan Zhao said softly. “Can you come home earlier tonight? I have so much to tell you…”
His tone carried an unconscious hint of affection.
Shi Wuxiang raised a brow slightly, then smiled. “I will try. Be careful on the way.”
“Okay!”
Yuan Zhao happily drove the cart home, his steps almost bouncing with excitement.
Watching him leave, Shi Wuxiang shook his head helplessly.
Still a child at heart—just a few words could make him this happy.
He really should go home earlier.
By the time Yuan Zhao returned home, it was already afternoon. The sun was still blazing. Even with straw hats, they were drenched in sweat.
Madam Shi hurried them inside. “There is hot water ready—wash up! And drink the herbal soup on the table!”
The herbal drink was pungent and bitter. Yuan Zhao pinched Yuan Yuan’s nose and made him drink, then forced himself to do the same.
Afterward, neither of them wanted to speak.
Even saying it out loud, he himself felt a little dazed.
The others watched his expression. No one said anything, but they all knew—he had once lived in town, then after his family fell into decline, he slunk back to the village in embarrassment, only to now go back to town to make a living again. It was something that hurt one’s pride.
So they all tacitly avoided the topic. If they didn’t want to go to town, they wouldn’t—everything depended on their mood.
They just hadn’t expected Shi Qingyue to bring it up first. At that age, young men cared most about their dignity. Running into old acquaintances from the past might very well invite ridicule.
“What about the fields at home—just abandoning them?” Madam Shi snapped him back to reality. “Even if the mountain plots don’t need watering, the cucumbers and yardlong beans behind the house still depend on you!”
Shi Qingyue clicked his tongue lightly, clearly having forgotten all about it.
“Yuan Ge and I can handle it. Let’s ask A-Xiang later and decide then,” Yuan Zhao said.
They had to listen to the pillar of the household. When he came back, they would still need to count the money.
Heh heh.
Everyone’s just trying to make a living—how could anyone afford to slack off, working a few days and resting a few days? And rent still had to be paid here. Two hundred coins were enough for an ordinary family to live on for a whole month!
“I’m thinking of pushing a cart and trying street vending,” Yuan Zhao said. “We’ve basically sold everything here anyway.”
Most of his customers came in concentrated waves—people heading out early for work, or slightly better-off families who stopped by after breakfast. By mid-morning, everyone was eating proper meals, so there weren’t many people buying wraps anymore.
Seeing that he wasn’t planning to pack up and leave, the bun-selling uncle didn’t say anything further. Pushing a cart and hawking goods was a workable idea—after all, that was how peddlers made their living.
Yuan Zhao took Yuan Yuan and headed toward the academy. Though he had never been to that particular street, he knew where the academy was, so the route felt familiar. Still, the closer he got, the more nervous he became, afraid that he would be driven away the moment he arrived.
His timing was just right—it seemed to be the scholars’ break time. Even through the walls, he could hear them chatting in small groups, mostly discussing their studies.
Yuan Zhao couldn’t understand what they were saying. He pushed his cart to the street across from the academy’s main gate. Shouting loudly wasn’t allowed here, so he could only hope the scholars would call out to him on their own.
“Hey, the one selling wraps!”
They called him!
Yuan Zhao quickly responded and looked toward the voice. The face was familiar—no wonder the voice sounded so recognizable. The moment he arrived, the person already knew he was selling wraps.
It was Cheng Du again!
Cheng Du waved at him. “Give me a wrap—make it hearty. I’ll share it with A Ying.”
“Got it!” Yuan Zhao called back with a grin.
He quickly made them an extra, extra generous one and even packed it separately so they wouldn’t have to divide it themselves.
Yuan Yuan took the wraps and ran up to the academy gate. Even though it was just a single threshold, it felt like an insurmountable divide. He clutched twelve copper coins in his hand—the price for extra ingredients.
This time, Yuan Zhao didn’t refuse. He took the money neatly, knowing they were deliberately helping him attract attention.
“Brother Cheng, Brother Fu, what are you eating? Where’d you get that?”
“It smells amazing. Is that the wrap that’s been popular in town lately? It’s huge! Where did you buy it?”
Cheng Du tilted his chin toward the gate. “Right outside. Probably came over from the street. Not sure if he brought enough—if you’re late, there might not be any left!”
As soon as he said that, the scholars rushed toward the gate, calling out to Yuan Zhao from across the threshold, all wanting to buy wraps.
Yuan Yuan hurried over to explain the prices and take their orders, then ran back to relay everything to Yuan Zhao.
The ones who had spare money to spend freely in the academy naturally came from relatively well-off families. Even when buying wraps, they all wanted the best.
Yuan Zhao worked quickly, making them one after another—fast, but careful not to make mistakes. Otherwise, once they returned to class, they would have to wait until the next break.
After making several, he suddenly heard the sound of a bell ringing from inside the academy. The scholars shouted a few last words toward him before hurrying off.
Looking at the wrap he had just finished—thick and packed—he couldn’t bear to eat it himself, yet couldn’t sell it either. So he had Yuan Yuan hold it and go play nearby; he could always make a fresh one later.
The scholars were generous and polite. Yuan Zhao had originally planned to leave by noon, knowing they would eat lunch inside the academy. But unexpectedly, they called him again to buy more wraps—some even ordering extra for classmates and teachers!
They ate happily, and Yuan Zhao was just as happy—because both of his money boxes were completely full.
Perhaps because they looked down on street vendors, Yuan Zhao had never once seen Li Qingwei or Cui Xiuxiu in front of the academy. Occasionally, he heard Cheng Du and Fu Ying mention them, saying that even if they wanted to eat, they would have someone else buy it for them. They had no idea it was Yuan Zhao running the stall—otherwise, they would have come to cause trouble long ago.
Ever since Yuan Zhao started moving between two locations, he also picked up customers along the way. Whenever someone wanted a wrap, he would stop right there and make it on the spot. It was tiring, but the money he earned kept increasing.
After more than half a month of relentless heat, a cool breeze finally arrived one day. The sky darkened suddenly—no lightning, no thunder—just raindrops falling all at once.
The parasol he had set up couldn’t keep out the rain for long. Seeing other vendors packing up, Yuan Zhao quickly gathered his things before the rain grew heavier and took Yuan Yuan to Xiangxiang Restaurant.
When he arrived, Shi Wuxiang was already waiting in the back courtyard. Yuan Zhao hurried over. “A Xiang.”
“Don’t catch a chill.” Shi Wuxiang held a cloth towel, first wiping Yuan Yuan dry, then handing it to Yuan Zhao. “Wait until the rain stops before heading back, or come back with me tonight. I happen to be off tomorrow.”
“If the rain stops, we can’t wait for you—we still have to go back and help at home,” Yuan Zhao said, clearly conflicted. He had never gone home together with Shi Wuxiang before.
“Then we’ll wait and see,” Shi Wuxiang replied. “Come upstairs and rest for a bit. You’ve gotten wet—if the wind hits you, you’ll get sick.”
He still remembered that Yuan Zhao was sensitive to cold drafts—one gust and he would break out in bumps.
So Yuan Zhao took Yuan Yuan upstairs to a small room to wait. They had planned to leave once the rain eased, but instead, it grew heavier. Even if they tried to leave during a lull, they would still get soaked.
The rain didn’t lighten until evening. Thanks to the shopkeeper’s kindness, Shi Wuxiang was able to leave early. When he went upstairs to call them, he found Yuan Zhao sitting in a chair, head tilted back, while Yuan Yuan had already fallen asleep in his arms.
“Wake up. It’s time to go home,” he said softly as he stepped closer.