Tears finally spilled down Lu Liu’s face in heavy drops.
He grabbed Li Feng’s hand, pressing it to his cheek. It made his small face and big eyes even more endearing.
He didn’t know what to say—his heart felt so warm, so moved.
He didn’t want to be useless. He wanted to contribute to the household, to share the burden, to help Li Feng. He could do so little, and the value of the chickens and rabbits felt tied to his own worth. He wanted recognition. He could help the family.
Li Feng didn’t praise him outright, but he acknowledged his ability, rejoiced in his choice, and even said he could continue raising them in the future.
Lu Liu didn’t think about three or five years from now; he focused only on the present.
Right now, he could make the best decision. His skills had grown. He was no longer the boy who only asked, “What should I do?”
His eyes were red and teary, wiping them over and over, yet more tears still waited.
Li Feng didn’t know how long he had held it in, and seeing him like this made his chest ache.
“I want to cry,” Lu Liu said. “I just want to cry.”
Li Feng replied, “We still have to go eat at Lu Jia Tun. Aren’t you worried about father and Dad?”
Still crying, Lu Liu said, “I’ll tell them. You’re good to me. I’m happy crying.”
Li Feng stayed with him in the backyard until his tears ran dry and he grew tired, then led him inside to soothe his eyes.
Lu Liu leaned against the kang cabinet, a cushion behind his back. His eyes closed, hands still clutching Li Feng for security.
After crying, his voice carried a nasal sound.
“Da Feng, I just heard you talk about so much… about knowing this mountain, about leaving it. It makes me a little sad.”
This place wasn’t just home—it was where Li Feng had crawled, struggled, and grown from a boy into a man.
Li Feng said, “Silly Xiao Liu, don’t forget. I’ll come back for the goods. I’m not selling the house. People say summer villas in the mountains are valuable. Next summer, I’ll bring you back to enjoy the cool.”
Lu Liu felt better, then asked, “Have you thought of names for the child yet? This year’s almost over; can we decide now?”
Li Feng had two names ready. “One is Jinshan—‘near the mountain,’ also meaning closeness. Sounds grand. We came from the mountains, can’t forget our roots. Do you like it?”
Lu Liu murmured it aloud. The pronunciation echoed ‘entering the mountain’ but with a different meaning. It flowed well, so he agreed.
The second name was Wanli—ten thousand miles.
Far from the mountain, far from home, soaring to great heights.
Together, the two names expressed roots and hope for the future.
Lu Liu liked both. Initially, he thought neither fit the child, but then realized no one said the baby had to be soft. A strong name was fine.
When the baby came, these would be the names.
After chatting, they took some mooncakes and went to Lu Jia Tun for dinner.
Passing Mr. Yao’s house, Yao called to ask if Lu Liu would return home that evening.
“I’m just going out for lunch,” Lu Liu said. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to go out freely.
The timing was good. With Li Feng at home, they went to visit together.
Yao said, “Come back tonight—I’ll make you something delicious!”
Lu Liu agreed.
Passing Wang Meng’s house, they saw it was lively.
Uncle Chen’s family had arrived, carrying big bundles to see Chen Jiu. Chen Jiu’s face was bright and happy. He had taken medicine, drank sweet water, and looked well.
Uncle Chen noticed Li Feng and Lu Liu heading out and called after them, “I was going to come to your house later!”
Li Feng said, “We’ll be back this afternoon. Don’t rush. Da Meng’s house has spare rooms; he’s a rough fellow, wouldn’t know how to care for my husband.”
Wang Meng echoed the invitation.
They stayed a bit, then Li Feng drove Lu Liu home.
Today they had taken Er Huang along. He hadn’t climbed the mountain or seen Li Feng in a long time, and now he ran and jumped wildly along the road, a yellow whirlwind of excitement.
On the way back, Lu Liu noticed the path was much smoother. Many households had paved stone paths. Asking Li Feng, he learned that Da Qiang had gone out comparing with others, inspiring many men to lay stones.
He asked, “Why didn’t Brother An tell me?”
Li Feng said, “Maybe he assumed you knew.”
Lu Liu decided to ask when he returned that evening.
Along the way, they saw Er Tian and Wang Dongmei coming. Greeting each other, they learned they were bringing festival gifts to Mother.
Li Feng glanced at Wang Dongmei’s belly—there was no way Er Tian could argue.
“Go alone for the gifts. Your wife is already big; why drag her along?”
Wang Dongmei smiled apologetically. “I haven’t seen Mother in a while. I’m not busy now, so I want to visit. Er Tian didn’t agree at first. I insisted, and only then did he relent.”
Li Feng didn’t comment further, advising them: “This year’s mountain mushroom harvest was abundant, but the county is short on stock. If you can’t find good mushrooms, collect some imperfect ones and dry them at home. Merchants will come to the village entrance—it’s convenient. Sell them, save some money. Next year, you’ll have a child, need to buy livestock, and prepare fields. You’ll need silver.”
He looked at Wang Dongmei: “You can’t do heavy work now, but you know leathercraft. As the weather turns cold, tell Mother to get some leather from Wang Meng. Sew them. Save some money these months. Next year, you can buy an ox, so Er Tian can farm efficiently and have time to collect mushrooms. Your life will improve.”
Er Tian still looked slack; Wang Dongmei thanked him repeatedly, eyes glistening with tears.
After a brief chat, once they were out of earshot, Lu Liu still puzzled:
“Why has Er Tian changed so much?”
Li Feng said, “Farming is exhausting.”
Lu Liu fell silent, thinking of his own father’s quiet ways.
Exiting the new village onto the main road, the journey sped up.
Arriving at Lu Jia Tun, the aroma of food greeted them.
In the alley, they saw a horse-drawn carriage—likely Lu Yang returning.
Lu Liu, still in the carriage, looked toward the house, shouting, “Brother!”
Lu Yang stepped out, smiling: “Coming home, you call me brother before Dad? What’s this?”
Lu Liu chuckled: “I didn’t expect you home for the festival—such a surprise!”
Lu Yang had just read Xie Yan’s letter and felt even lighter inside.
He hadn’t minded much; he’d return when free.
Their honest parents wouldn’t lose out just by observing.
Once home, they ate. Seeing Lu Liu’s red eyes, Lu Yang didn’t ask immediately, instead helping everyone settle in.
Lu Yang brought Grandma and the little dog Weimeng. Six people, plus two dogs, filled the hall. The dogs had to eat outside.
Er Huang had eaten well in the morning, walked with relatives at noon, and was ecstatic, wagging his tail wildly.
Weimeng matched him, eating heartily, mouth wide open, showing half his food, making Lu Yang shake his head in amusement.
There was a jar of fine wine, delivered by Boss Ding after the wheat harvest.
Lu Erbao opened it, offering some to Li Feng.
Li Feng’s tolerance was low; he hadn’t had much wine in his life, and the family had been poor.
Seeing this, Lu Yang went to his eldest uncle’s house, called his two cousins over, added extra bowls, and had them keep Li Feng company while drinking. Lu Erbao could just sip, tasting.
With two strong men at the table, the brothers also added three more dishes to the table.
