Li Feng didn’t show it, but once he got serious, it finally turned into a real back-and-forth as he and Lu Liu fought over the food. Lu Liu, sweet and clueless as ever, even praised him: “Da Feng, you’re amazing!”
Li Feng couldn’t handle that kind of praise. “You’re the amazing one,” he muttered.
Lu Liu just smiled. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to fight for my food.”
His family had been down and out. When he stepped outside, there were always people ready to pick on him. And even at home during mealtimes, freeloaders would barge in to snatch their food.
There was no getting rid of those scoundrels. They’d just say they were visiting, and what could you do? Cursing didn’t help—he couldn’t out-shout them. And sure, relatives sometimes stepped in to help, but that couldn’t last forever. If people wanted to freeload, what were they supposed to do—invite someone over every meal to help chase them off?
Eating was no small thing. Without a full belly, you had no strength for anything else. All that grinding hardship—what was it for? Just to put food on the table.
Lu Liu had been fighting for his share since he was little. At first, he never won. Later, when he started catching bugs for the chickens, he couldn’t even bear to touch the creepy crawlies. He’d use a stick to pinch them instead. By accident, that’s how he honed his skills.
Bugs squirm and crawl—the food on a plate doesn’t even move. Years of practice gave him chopstick skills that no one could match.
He said it lightly, with a little smile, but Li Feng’s heart ached hearing it. He immediately loaded Lu Liu’s bowl with food until it was piled high. Lu Liu, not realizing he’d let something slip, just felt happy. His smile was soft, and his eyes reddened slightly.
He wanted to finish the whole bowl, but overestimated his appetite. In the end, there was still half a bowl left. Li Feng took it from him and polished it off in two or three big bites.
As Li Feng ate, Lu Liu chatted about the day.
“I found the paper flowers and got them sun-dried. I cleaned up the bath barrel too—we can soak tomorrow. I want to bathe too. Can I go in with you?”
Li Feng had good self-control, so he didn’t choke on the spot. But he repeated, slowly and deliberately, “You… want to bathe… with me?”
At home, Lu Liu had always bathed with his father—to save water and firewood.
That’s all he was thinking. They’d already be heating up the water; wouldn’t it be wasteful to use it for just one person?
Seeing how serious and earnest Lu Liu was as he nodded, Li Feng gave in too.
“Alright. We’ll bathe together tomorrow.”
The bath wasn’t until the next day, but that night Li Feng got right to work.
He roamed the house, checking every room, until he found the perfect spot for the bath barrel: the small side room that used to be Shun’s. When money had been tight, Shun had slept on a narrow cot there. Later, when they didn’t put in a proper heated brick bed, he moved out.
The room had been used to store chopped firewood. They’d gone through some of it lately, so the space was half-empty. Li Feng, strong as an ox, hauled out a good pile of the wood, stacked it neatly by the kitchen wall, then swept and tidied the little room.
He strung up ropes across the rafters and hung up bamboo mats to block the wind.
There were still bundles of straw mats at home—big, thick, fluffy ones they usually used to insulate the animal pens. Li Feng often made them when he had spare time, so the dog and mule wouldn’t freeze.
And now, he didn’t want his husband to freeze either. He hung a straw mat curtain right next to the bamboo mats, so when it was drawn closed, it created a cozy nook just big enough for the bath.
When Lu Liu came to see, he found that behind the curtain, there was barely room for the barrel. The bamboo and straw mats wrapped the space all the way around. The thought of squeezing in there naked with Li Feng made his face burn hot, his whole body flushed just from breathing.
Li Feng glanced sideways at him—then without another word, pulled him into his arms for a deep, heavy kiss.
His hands were big enough to circle Lu Liu’s slim waist with one palm. It was easy for those hands to explore up and down, leaving Lu Liu squirming and whimpering.
Not that he ever really tried to get away. Even when Li Feng kissed him breathless, he’d just gaze up at him with those dewy eyes, silently begging for mercy.
Li Feng would finally let him catch his breath—only to plant kisses elsewhere.
Lu Liu was a modest man. When he bathed, he never lingered or explored his own body. All the touches that made him burn and itch came from Li Feng. Those rough hands left him tingling and hot.
Li Feng’s lips, dry and a little chapped from not drinking enough water, somehow always set off a fresh wave of ticklish heat wherever they touched.
Bit by bit, his padded coat came off, leaving his chest bare. Li Feng bowed his head and kissed him in just the right places, with just the right rhythm—just enough to leave him torn between shame and longing. Then he bundled him back up in the coat, scooped him into his arms, and carried him to bed to continue what they’d started.
That night, they “had chicken.” The bath would wait for the next day.
Since they had to rise early for the wedding procession, Li Feng and the others took the afternoon to rest. The rice cake making could wait.
From the moment Lu Liu got up, his face stayed red. Even when he saw Li Feng, the blush wouldn’t fade, and his words came out in awkward stammers. When Li Feng dragged him behind the curtain, he just stood there dazed.
When Li Feng had filled the bath with hot water bucket by bucket, Lu Liu tried to resist one last time. “Maybe you should go first? The barrel looks kinda small…”
Li Feng wasn’t having it.
Lu Liu: “…”
He didn’t want to bathe anymore—let him stay dirty for all he cared.
Li Feng kissed his cheek and asked softly, “Do you want children?”
Of course Lu Liu did. He glanced at the tub, then at Li Feng, and clutched at his coat. “You’re not allowed to sneak any kisses tonight.”
Li Feng agreed readily, and Lu Liu, trusting him just like that, stripped down and hopped into the tub.
The tub was tall. Li Feng got in after him, but first he lifted Lu Liu inside.
The water was clear, and though the heat wrapped him up, Lu Liu was still shy, curling up tight with just his slender, bare back showing.
When Li Feng climbed in, the water rose higher. Lu Liu was smaller, and if he tried to lower his head, he’d end up drinking bathwater.
The bath felt wonderful. The warm water surrounded him, pressing gently but firmly on his body, easing away his tension and fatigue. Before he knew it, he’d relaxed completely.
His face, already flushed with embarrassment, was now red as a beet from the heat. Li Feng steadied him and looked at that blushing face, smiling as he praised, “You’re so beautiful, just like the day we married.”
Lu Liu froze for a second.
Just like their wedding day? He remembered how his face had been painted all red, lips and cheeks alike. He’d hated it, thinking he looked ridiculous. So it was actually beautiful?
He looked up at Li Feng. “Really?”
Li Feng didn’t lie. “Really. You’re beautiful.”
Lu Liu blinked, suddenly regretting not buying rouge at the market.
If he had some, his face could stay red all the time, and Li Feng would keep liking him. Maybe then, even when Li Feng found out about the switched marriage, he’d still love him.
His expression dimmed. Li Feng kissed him gently and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Lu Liu said quietly, “When we went to the market, I didn’t buy rouge with Yao Fulang. I thought you wouldn’t like it… and now I don’t know when I’ll get another chance…”
Li Feng’s heart softened. “Next time there’s a market, I’ll buy it for you.”
(Scene fade-out. Thank you for the mercy!)
That afternoon they’d had their fun, so they went to bed early, and when they woke, it was already the day of the Laba Festival.
Li Feng felt refreshed. Even getting up before dawn, his eyes were bright and clear.
He got the mule ready, tied the crêpe paper flower to its head, wrapped a red sash around his waist, and loaded Lu Liu into the cart to head to Sanmiao’s for the wedding feast.
Sanmiao’s family was big, with lots of relatives in the village.
Plenty of folks from down the mountain were coming for the feast too. Da Qiang and Yao Fulang had also set out early. Their families were related, and Da Qiang was helping with the wedding.
On the road, the two groups ran into each other, and Yao Fulang chatted with Lu Liu.
Lu Liu was leaning against Li Feng’s back in the mule cart, nodding off, still half-asleep.
Yao Fulang, married long enough to be shameless about teasing, grinned and asked, “What’s the matter—can’t get out of bed this morning?”
Lu Liu, dazed and sleepy, blinked at him. “I did get up, didn’t I?”
Yao Fulang laughed, “Your body’s up, sure—but your soul’s still lying on the bed!”
Lu Liu didn’t think much of it. He gave a silly little laugh and asked, “What about you—did yours get up?”
Yao Fulang: “…”
This Lu Liu really didn’t know how to talk!
If his soul had stayed in bed, would he look this bright-eyed and bushy-tailed?
Li Feng cracked up at the two of them.
Da Qiang, feeling a little left out, ordered Yao Fulang to scratch his back, fussing this way and that until Yao Fulang didn’t get a chance to joke with Lu Liu for a while.
After a bit of scratching, Yao Fulang got annoyed.
“What’s this? I got out of bed just to scratch your itch? I swear, what’s really itching is your hide!”
