Lu Liu glanced sideways at him, baffled—why did this cousin seem to have such a problem with him?
He thought about it. Well, his older brother was raised in the county, so technically, what Chen Fulang said wasn’t wrong. He nodded and smiled politely. “You’re right.”
Then he turned back to Yao Fulang and said, “I’ll stick with you. I’ll just see what you buy.”
Before Yao Fulang could respond, Chen Fulang flared up. “Who do you think you’re looking down on?! So what if you’re some county boy? You still ended up married into a hillbilly village!”
Lu Liu was completely confused. He hated loud, aggressive types like this and wanted to just shrink away—but right now, he was using his older brother’s identity, and his brother was famously tough.
But with Li Feng not here, he couldn’t just hide in the back. His breathing grew rapid and shallow, and all he could force out was: “Yeah, I’m looking down on you.”
Short. Blunt. Brutally honest.
Chen Fulang practically lost it on the spot. Yao Fulang and Yao Second Sister-in-law tried to calm things down, but Chen Fulang was so furious, he jumped off the cart right there and then.
Miao Fulang, his friend, looked around in shock—left, right, clearly unsure what to do.
Yao Fulang snapped, “What now? He throws a fit, and you’re joining him? You didn’t see he was being completely unreasonable? If you’re leaving, go! It’s a long trip both ways—see if your legs don’t snap from the walk!”
That shut Miao Fulang up. He stayed.
Behind them, Chen Fulang was still cursing, “Bunch of snobs!”
Yao Fulang was finally losing his temper—then, to everyone’s surprise, his sharp-tongued husband actually stepped in to defend him.
Li Qiang pulled the cart to a stop, jumped down, and shouted back, “You’re so high and mighty—why don’t you go yell at your own brother?! Picking fights with easy targets! What a coward! If I’d known you were like this, I wouldn’t have bothered hauling you this morning! Not gonna take crap from you for free!”
Everyone on the cart stared at Li Qiang with shock—and newfound admiration.
Lu Liu turned to Yao Fulang with a grin. “Da Qiang really cares about you. Look at him—someone talks bad about you and he gets all fired up.”
Yao Fulang knew what kind of man Li Qiang was. He figured the guy just liked running his mouth and picking fights. But somehow, hearing Lu Liu say “he cares about you” made him… embarrassed.
“I mean… not really… Ai, Lu Fulang, you say things way too directly!”
Lu Liu laughed sheepishly.
That little drama in the early morning passed with a joke and a chuckle.
As the cart rolled toward the county town, conversation turned naturally to what people planned to buy, what they wanted to see, how much money they had, and how to make it stretch.
—
Meanwhile, over in Shangxi Village, there was another donkey cart heading to the county.
Shops were opening for the day. Lu Yang and Xie Yan went to their store like they always did.
Because Lu Yang had mentioned wanting to sell spring couplets and lucky characters like Fu and Xi, Xie Yan brought his brushes, ink, paper, and inkstone to the store. He wasn’t the type to sit idle—he’d help greet customers when they came, and when it was quiet, he’d practice calligraphy.
The boss from Common Sayings Bookshop still hadn’t shown up—no idea when their book shipment would arrive.
Xie Yan was starting to get anxious. He felt like he was holding up someone else’s business and couldn’t shake the unease.
Lu Yang grinned and gently touched his chest. “Uneasy? Let me check—nope, nothing here. What do you mean, ‘not at ease’? Were you just tricking me into touching you?”
After copping a feel, he even tried to play the victim. Xie Yan wasn’t bothered. He’d adapted quickly—he could now calmly hold his husband’s hand in place and let him keep feeling around.
Lu Yang laughed out loud, delighted. “Look at you, Mr. Scholar—learning fast! You should try teasing me sometime—I’d love that.”
Since he said it, Xie Yan made a mental note.
“I’ll think about it.”
Lu Yang’s grin widened. He leaned in closer and teased, “Why so stiff? You need to think before flirting? You think this is writing an essay with a thesis and structure?”
Xie Yan replied honestly, “I don’t know that many lines.”
Lu Yang didn’t mind at all. “Just give it a try.”
So Xie Yan leaned in and took a playful bite on his cheek.
Lu Yang froze, then slowly touched his face. He could feel the heat rising.
Oh. My. God.
His brilliant scholar of a husband really did know so little—so little, in fact, that he was learning how to flirt from watching someone eat a steamed bun.
Poor thing.
Lu Yang’s cheeks turned red, but his words stayed bold.
He asked Xie Yan, “Have you ever read those kinds of books? You know, the ones about… cooking chicken soup?”
Xie Yan had seen them before—he’d accidentally flipped one open while browsing at the bookshop. He closed it right away and hadn’t read a full one yet.
Lu Yang had an idea. He said to Xie Yan, “Didn’t the bookshop owner ask you to go through their collection? Since the books haven’t arrived yet, why not go back and browse a few of those chicken-soup kinds of books? It could be good for us. Maybe if we follow the wisdom of the ancients, we’ll end up having a baby sooner!”
A baby…
That thought had never really crossed Xie Yan’s mind before. But seeing how happy Lu Yang looked, he smiled too.
“Alright, once the shop’s not too busy, I’ll go check it out.”
Lu Yang could handle the store by himself. He pointed at the big guy driving the cart. “Isn’t Silly Zhu still here? Go on! What if one day they stop letting you read for free?”
Xie Yan wanted to say that won’t happen, but Lu Yang’s eyes were sparkling with excitement, so he just said, “Okay.”
The cart driver, Silly Zhu, was speechless.
Why am I even human? Why couldn’t I have just been a donkey?
Xie Yan didn’t head out right away—he helped organize things in the shop first.
Once they opened, they only sold meat buns. But with such a limited selection, some customers left empty-handed.
So Lu Yang bought ten more steamers and brought along some pre-steamed mantou and flower rolls from home.
There were two steamers of plain buns, three of flower rolls, and one with meat buns that Lu Lin had made.
They were a little rough—Lu Lin was still learning the craft—but Lu Yang put them up for sale anyway.
He’d already thought it through: the buns that didn’t burst open were just regular buns. Perfect for customers who didn’t like oily ones.
As for the slightly burst ones—those were even easier to sell. He’d say they were so packed with meat the dough couldn’t hold it in. Anyone who liked meat would hear that and jump to buy. Same price, more filling? No brainer.
Back at the shop, Lu Yang kept steaming fresh meat buns.
He was fast. After packing three steamers—sixty buns—he stopped and stepped up front to take over for Xie Yan, urging him to go read.
A man out in the world needed money in his pocket.
Lu Yang handed him a string of coins.
A full string—100 copper coins—looked like a lot, but it wouldn’t even cover a meal at a proper restaurant in the county. Still, he was worried Xie Yan might get hungry or thirsty while reading, and since the shop owner might not serve someone who wasn’t buying books, it was better to give him cash to grab food or drinks himself.
Either way, it was cheaper than buying books.
Xie Yan accepted it and tucked it neatly into his coin pouch.
Lu Yang saw how obedient he was being and couldn’t help the itch in his mouth—he really wanted to kiss him. But with people constantly coming in and out of the shop, it wasn’t the time or place. So instead, he leaned in and asked Xie Yan, “Why are you suddenly so motivated just because I told you to read that kind of book?”
Xie Yan answered honestly, “I want to learn how to make soup.”
Lu Yang: “……”
So serious. So sincere.
He could only hope Xie Yan would have the same attitude when it came to sitting for the provincial exams.
He waved his hand and shooed his little scholar out the door to go learn how to “make soup,” then turned back to start another day of business.
Lu Yang was a naturally open and easygoing person. Unlike other shopkeepers who just waited passively for customers, he didn’t sit still if the store was quiet. He’d stand at the entrance calling people in, just like a street vendor. Nearby shop owners admired his energy, and when they saw he had a free moment, they’d often stop by to chat.
“Boss Lu, you’re too hardworking! If you really don’t have any help, why not get a relative to pitch in? I’m telling you, there’s plenty of folks in the village dying to come work in town. You can name your price.”
Lu Yang didn’t complain or play the sympathy card—he kept it simple and honest.
“My husband’s a xiucai—a certified scholar. Supporting a scholar isn’t cheap. Business is slow right now, so I figured we should save where we can. The New Year flew by in a blink, and he’s back to school soon. Everything costs money. So, dear bosses, just think of it this way—if you buy something from me, even just a few copper coins’ worth, you’re helping my future scholar keep studying. I’ll remember your kindness!”
“Haha! Boss Lu, you really know how to talk. I’ve never met a scholar’s husband like you before. Just for that, I’m sticking with you.” The owner of the liquor shop next door, Boss Ding, laughed.
It didn’t hurt to build ties with a scholar’s household.
If the scholar didn’t pass? No big deal, they were still neighbors.
But if he did pass? Well, having a connection might come in handy.
Even if nothing came of it, just having a bit of goodwill could offer some protection. If a thug or troublemaker came around, maybe they’d think twice before messing with someone who had a scholarly connection.
Boss Ding added, “By the way, you still haven’t made a proper shop sign?”
