The key was the relationship. Lu Yang was helping them make money—it was only right they understood the value of that.
When you hold a favor in your heart, it’s friendship. When you act on it, there’s usually some benefit involved. Give and take—it’s part of life.
Chen Guizhi went into the house and brought out a hat and a pair of gloves.
“I’ll hold on to the extra leather for now. I’ll have Shunge help out in the next couple days. We’ll make another hat before we send everything over. Your husband’s still slow with his hands.”
Li Feng looked at Lu Liu, who nodded.
Doing it himself meant sincerity—but if it was made by his mom and little brother, that was heartfelt too.
He was slow, and forcing himself to do it would only annoy Mom and make his brother suffer in the cold.
There was still a half-finished hat at home. He’d rush to finish it in the next couple days too.
If he managed to complete it in time, they’d send it along with the rest of the gifts.
There were only three people in the Xie family. Since both Lu Yang and Xie Yan were getting something, it’d be bad for their mother-in-law to be left empty-handed. As for anything else—they’d see.
With the hat and gloves in hand, the couple lit their lantern and headed home.
On the way, Li Feng took a slight detour toward Sanmiao’s house. The lights were still on, so he called out from outside the gate: “Sanmiao!”
Their dog, Sanliang, was the first to respond—barking away.
Even the bark of that dog made you feel happy—it was that likeable.
Lu Liu was eyeing Sanliang too. He muttered to Li Feng, “Erhuang really has no taste. He doesn’t like this kind of pretty, well-behaved dog? What’s wrong with him?”
Li Feng was used to Lu Liu by now, so he answered bluntly, “He’s just a dumb mutt.”
Lu Liu: “…”
He shot Li Feng a glare, blushing as he climbed into the cart and turned his head to stare at a house on the other side of the road.
Sanmiao came out with his husband. Lu Liu had left early on their wedding day, so this was his first time meeting Sanmiao’s spouse.
Sanmiao’s husband was from Chenjiawan. After being introduced by his aunt, he married into Lizhai and often said life there wasn’t nearly as hard as he’d imagined. Every family had some savings, and even though the village was far from the county seat, they never lacked food or drink.
There wasn’t much land, but it wasn’t tiring to farm. They could make ends meet doing sewing work or crafting things from leather.
Word of that had spread back to Chenjiawan, and now plenty of young men and women were getting interested.
Li Feng’s marriage this year had also come through connections in Chenjiawan. With Old Man Chen flaunting his wealth, matchmakers were running themselves ragged trying to set things up. A man that the Chen family thought wasn’t good enough was considered top-tier elsewhere.
Sanmiao had also proposed this year—he’d fallen for Miao Fulang.
The two of them shared a character in their names—a sign of fate.
Lu Liu knew another Miao Fulang too, a friend of Chen Fulang’s.
Sanmiao’s husband introduced himself: “My name’s Miao Xiaohe—‘He’ as in rice stalk.”
Lu Liu wasn’t sure how to make friends yet. After thinking for a bit, he pulled out a sketchbook. “Here, take a look at this. When you’re done, we can trade.”
Miao Xiaohe had seen one before—it was the one Li Feng gave to Sanmiao.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly still in that honeymoon phase. His cheeks were rosy as he asked Lu Liu, “Where’d you get this?”
Lu Liu answered, “My brother gave it to me.”
Then he added, “Oh right—my brother has some connections. He asked me to help sell some goods. If you ever want to buy wine or sunflower seeds or anything, come find me.”
Miao Xiaohe nodded. “Sure. Sanmiao said he still has rice cakes to make. You coming to New Village?”
Lu Liu wasn’t sure. Probably not. The house was a mess—he wanted to stay home and do more cleaning.
“I’ll see tomorrow.”
They kept the conversation simple. Meanwhile, Li Feng asked Sanmiao to bring out a big soup bowl so he could pour him a jin and a bit of wine.
Li Feng said, “I’m thinking of leaving Erhuang at your place for a few days—what do you think?”
Being a dad and arranging a marriage for his “son” meant acting like a total pushover.
Letting a male and a female dog stay together under the same roof—there you go, arranged marriage.
Sanmiao burst out laughing. His hands were steady from years of archery practice, but he still doubled over, shoulders shaking—but not a drop of wine spilled.
He said, “Big Bro Feng, you’re already giving me wine, and I’ve already agreed. What more do you want? I should be paying you for this!”
Li Feng waved him off. “Just keep an eye on them for a few days. They should’ve been together already. No one’s going up the mountain during rice cake season, so might as well settle this now.”
Sanmiao knew Li Feng well and didn’t bother with formalities anymore. “It’s you—too soft on Erhuang. Other folks’ dogs don’t act like this.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Li Feng said, “I’ll bring him over tomorrow.”
Before coming out, Sanmiao had also brought the sketchbook with him.
He thought Li Feng had come to swap books with him.
Li Feng glanced at it and asked, “You finished it already?”
Sanmiao scratched his head, a bit embarrassed. “This book looks thick, but it’s really just a few pictures.”
Yeah, he’d finished it. Long ago.
Li Feng climbed back into the cart to grab another one, but noticed one was missing. He looked over toward Lu Liu, who was chatting happily with Sanmiao’s husband, and couldn’t help but grin. He grabbed another sketchbook and handed it to Sanmiao, throwing in a lewd joke:
“Don’t use up all your energy at night—still gotta make rice cakes during the day.”
Sanmiao, young and full of pride, shot back: “What’s there to be afraid of? A real man should have endless stamina!”
Strong enough to support the household by day, and spoil his husband by night.
Couldn’t argue with that.
Li Feng liked the attitude.
He called for Lu Liu—this time they were actually heading home.
As they reached the bottom of the hill, Erhuang ran out of the courtyard to greet them.
Yao Fulang heard the barking, stepped outside, and called out loudly, “I already fed Erhuang—no need to feed him again!”
Lu Liu quickly asked Li Feng to stop the cart.
Their homes were close anyway; it was just a few steps left. He could walk from there. Li Feng didn’t move, waiting for him.
Lu Liu grabbed two meat buns and another sketchbook.
Before the trip to the county, Yao Fulang had been in a bad mood. Back in Lizhai, they had always gotten along well. Yao Fulang was the only one who used to hang out with him. When you’ve got good stuff, you should share it.
But Yao Fulang wouldn’t dare take the buns—two meat buns cost ten wen, same as a meat pie. Way too pricey!
Lu Liu handed them over anyway. “My brother made them—you gotta try one. If you like it, next time I’m in the county, help support his shop, yeah? Hehe.”
Yao Fulang was surprised. “Your brother owns a shop?”
Lu Liu gave him a quick rundown. He’d eaten ten buns in the morning, the stew at lunch had a full jin of meat, and when he left in the afternoon, his brother even packed twenty buns for the road.
Yao Fulang: “…”
Who dared say those twenty taels of bride price weren’t worth it? Was this marrying a husband or marrying a gold nugget?
Honestly, his mood had already bounced back. Daqiang had gone home and bought him a meat pie. He ate the whole thing himself—not a single bite left for Daqiang. It drove Daqiang crazy with craving, and he spent the whole evening whispering sweet nothings to him. Yao Fulang was feeling great.
He took the buns, flipped through the sketchbook casually, and for a moment his smile froze—then came back even bigger.
“Lu Fulang, you’re just—you really didn’t have to! I was just worrying about how to make a baby, and here you are delivering this to me. I won’t forget this. You go on home—I need to get into bed now!”
Lu Liu: “…”
Compared to Miao Xiaohe, Yao Fulang was… bolder. Way bolder.
But his heart warmed up too. If someone like Yao Fulang, with experience, thought this kind of book was useful, maybe if he studied it carefully, he could get pregnant sooner too?
He hurried out of the small courtyard and jumped onto the mule cart. Clinging to Li Feng’s arm with a grin, he chirped, “Dafeng, Dafeng, aren’t we busy as bees? Visiting this house, then that one. Do people not sleep anymore? It’s freezing—who stays up in weather like this? Shouldn’t we be curled up in bed?”
Li Feng couldn’t help but laugh. “What did Yao Fulang say to you?”
Lu Liu looked right at him, no need to hide it: “He’s going off to make a baby.”
Li Feng told him, “Let’s not try to compete.”
Lu Liu pouted and grumbled. He figured Li Feng must be tired, so he wouldn’t ask for chicken tonight. He stomped around while heating water at home, clearly sulking.
Li Feng heated the kang bed and set a charcoal brazier in the room.
Once you got into the heat of things, the blanket couldn’t stay on. Sweat meeting cold air—easy way to catch a cold. Li Feng could handle it, but Lu Liu couldn’t.
That night, while soaking their feet, Lu Liu sat beside the brazier, feeling the warmth.
He stepped on Li Feng’s big foot and said, “You know, all my life, this is the first winter that doesn’t feel cold. It’s not just warm—it’s actually hot in here tonight.”
