Every household lived about the same. When guests came over, a few plates of plain vegetables seemed shabby, but meat dishes never stretched far enough for everyone to get more than a bite. That’s why fish-bone dishes were so popular.
One fish could give you a pot of soup and a dish—two meat dishes for the price of one. A good deal.
There were also dishes of mixed pork offal or fish offal—stir-fried organ meats. They had a strong smell, and if not cooked right, tasted awful. But put them on the table, and they still counted as a meat dish.
Lu Liu made a mental note of all this.
When the noodle soup was ready, he filled a big bowl for Li Feng—full to the brim—and took just half a small bowl for himself.
The kitchen, warmed by the fire, was cozier than the main room. That night, they ate right there, dragging over a little table and sitting side-by-side on small stools.
Li Feng took out the pie, tore it in half with his hands, and gave a piece to Lu Liu. Lu Liu tore that piece in half again and only ate a quarter.
That was all he could ever manage. Li Feng didn’t say a word.
The pie had cooled a bit and wasn’t as good as when they’d first bought it, but Lu Liu ate with contentment. He took a bite of pie, sipped the hot fish soup, now and then picking up a bit of fish or noodles with his chopsticks. The warmth spread through his belly.
By the time he was done, the flush of tears was gone from his face, and he looked much better. Li Feng, relieved, started telling him about San Miao’s wedding plans.
“On the day of the Laba Festival, I’ll head out early. You and Shun-ge can go with my mother straight to the banquet. I’ll cover the gift money—you don’t need to worry about it.
“The paper red flowers I used when we got married are still around. I’ll dig them out and tie one on the mule’s head. In the next couple of days, pick a time to heat more water. No matter how cold it is, I’ve got to bathe.”
Li Feng chuckled. “It’s not my wedding, but the lot of us stink too much. Wouldn’t be right to go pick up the bride like that.”
Who shows up to a wedding reeking of sweat?
Lu Liu nodded at everything. With the cold weather, they’d just been wiping down with damp cloths—proper baths were rare. He wanted to wash too, and planned to bathe with Da Feng when the time came.
Then he asked, puzzled, “Aren’t we selling rice cakes this time?”
He’d helped count and divide the money last time, and knew San Miao’s family hadn’t made much—those few hundred wen wouldn’t even cover the banquet.
Li Feng shook his head. “We’re waiting for the big market in the middle of the month.”
He kept talking, trying to distract Lu Liu, and added, “San Miao’s mother is good at managing the household. She’ll leave their savings untouched if she can help it, and they budget carefully for the year. The wedding money’s already set aside. They want a lively wedding like ours, so costs are up, but what they made from the rice cakes was enough for red decorations and other wedding stuff. The banquet will be made from their own stored meat, eggs, and fish—they hardly touched their silver.”
Lu Liu thought about how he and his dads had saved silver over the years—it wasn’t saving so much as scraping it together penny by penny.
He remembered: before his wedding, the family had just over one tael saved. The Xie family’s bride price had been six taels, considered above average in their village.
His dad had given him 500 wen to buy extras for the dowry, along with red cloth for his wedding outfit and new quilts and padded clothes. Six taels sounded like a lot, but the bedding and clothes alone ate up more than three, even though the red cloth was the cheapest kind. They’d splurged on good food for him too. In the end, the bride price went into the dowry, and little was left. Weddings really did cost a fortune.
He took all this to heart. He’d learn from San Miao’s mom and save carefully.
After dinner, there wasn’t much to do. Lu Liu used the leftover fish soup to cook down some greens for the dog, while Li Feng fed it. Lu Liu washed the dishes and boiled water. Then they settled in for the night.
After soaking his feet, Lu Liu felt nice and warm. Once in bed, he couldn’t help but snuggle up against Li Feng.
Li Feng didn’t make a move tonight. Lu Liu had worn himself out at the market and with all his crying, so for once Li Feng just held him gently.
But Lu Liu felt a bit wronged. He’d cuddled up close and waited for a good while. The urge to cry welled up again.
Li Feng, listening to his breathing, could tell he wasn’t asleep. “Not tired?” he asked.
The question startled Lu Liu, like he’d been caught doing something bad. It took him a moment to calm down.
Then, still feeling aggrieved, he said, “Why won’t you touch me?”
Li Feng couldn’t help laughing. His big hand wandered over Lu Liu’s body. “With your little frame? A few more times and you’ll fall apart.”
Lu Liu squirmed—it tickled—but he didn’t pull away, just stayed pressed up close.
Simple-minded as he was, he spoke his mind without any roundabout talk. “If you do it more, I’ll get used to it.”
Li Feng laughed even harder. “Can’t you just eat something to build yourself up?”
Lu Liu thought about it seriously, then changed his answer. “Then I want chicken.”
Li Feng: “…”
“Is that how you plan to build yourself up?”
Li Feng was stunned for a second—but Lu Liu looked like the sky was falling.
“Do you not like me anymore?”
How could that be?
Li Feng rolled over and got right to it. Tonight, they were having chicken.
—
Shangxi Village
As usual, Lu Yang opened his eyes before dawn.
Ever since the shop officially opened, all that gloominess had vanished. Xie Yan’s bedtime coaxing tricks didn’t work anymore—once Lu Yang woke up, he got straight out of bed. Nobody could stop him.
He had his routines. He figured it was only right to take care of his elders. His mother-in-law kept the house running smoothly; when he came home at night there was always a hot meal and hot water waiting, and he never got scolded. The least he could do was get up early and handle breakfast.
They had plenty of flour at home, so he decided on flour drop soup.
It was simple enough—just stir flour with water and drop it into the pot.
Even plain, the soup smelled good, but Lu Yang sliced up some radish and tossed that in too.
Now that life was looking up, Lu Yang felt a fire in his heart.
He knew his own body—years of hardship had left it hollow. Sure, he looked as sturdy as an ox now, but beneath it all he was full of hidden ailments. The sooner he built himself back up, the better.
Xie Yan was a scholar—he couldn’t let him go hungry. And his mother deserved it too. She’d borne so many bitter years, body and soul worn down. Time to nourish her as well.
They didn’t have money to spare yet, so any nourishing had to be done on the cheap.
He heated the pot, added oil, and stir-fried the radish until soft, then ladled in hot water from the hearth.
While that cooked, he grabbed some flour, adding water bit by bit to form little clumps. When the soup came to a boil, he dropped the flour bits in.
One egg per person was a luxury. He beat one egg and drizzled it into the soup—a single egg between three people wasn’t so bad.
There was still some dough left over. Lu Yang fetched a small steamer and made three buns. While waiting for the soup, he stir-fried some pickled vegetables.
When everything was ready, he poured fresh water into the pot, placed the soup and pickles on top, and covered it all with the lid to keep warm.
He cleaned up the kitchen and, while there was still time before heading out, kneaded a fresh batch of dough to take to the shop for making dumplings.
Meanwhile, in the room, Xie Yan struggled out of bed, rubbing his aching temples as he dressed. Just like Lu Yang had warned, his legs gave out as he tried to climb down, nearly sending him tumbling.
By the time he made it to the kitchen, it was too late. Lu Yang was already moving like a little whirlwind, busy but full of energy and not a hint of complaint or weariness.
Xie Yan stood there, dazed. He’d barely woken up, and now he just looked dumbfounded.
He was already there, already watching—might as well watch properly, though he clung to the doorframe like he was afraid of getting caught, peeking around the edge.
Of course, Lu Yang spotted him right away.
Lu Yang struck a pose, showing off his heroic vigor, then turned sharply—just as he’d hoped, catching Xie Yan’s goofy expression in full.
He burst out laughing. “What are you standing there for? If you’re gonna look, come closer! What can you see from way over there?”
There wasn’t an ounce of embarrassment in Xie Yan. If Lu Yang said to come closer, he came over happily.
Lu Yang knew this man—usually so proper and reserved, like a gentleman, but get him in a clingy mood and he turned into a little cuddlebug.
Xie Yan stepped forward and hugged Lu Yang from behind.
Taller than Lu Yang, he rested his chin right on Lu Yang’s shoulder.
Lu Yang couldn’t knead the dough properly like that and scolded him with a laugh, “What’re you doing, pestering me in the kitchen before dawn? I’m trying to earn us some money here! Just you wait till tonight—I’ll show you what’s what!”
It was still dark outside, so technically, it was nighttime.
But Xie Yan said, “Why wait? Let’s do it now.”
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