By the time they finished wrapping the wontons, it was nearly dinnertime. If they hadn’t nibbled on a few biscuits to tide themselves over, they might have starved waiting for this meal.
“These wontons are plenty, but we can only eat them in one sitting—they won’t keep. Let’s send some to Second Uncle’s family.”
The dumplings, plump and shaped like little ingots, filled a large bamboo basket. Unlike city shops that skimped on filling, these were generous, with plenty of meat. Even after setting aside a portion for themselves, there would still be plenty to share.
“I’ll keep forty, the rest go to Second Uncle’s house. Is that okay?”
Du Heng had bought two pounds of meat and added green onions, making plenty of filling for many dumplings. The portion left for themselves was probably half of what they’d made.
Qin Xiaoman was generous toward his uncle’s family. Though he didn’t like his aunt or Qin Xiaozhu, his cousin was okay, and his second uncle had never been stingy with him. He often sent over extra meat, despite what his wife might say. “Fine.”
Seeing Du Heng rise, Qin Xiaoman quickly snatched the basket. “I’ll go! I’ll deliver it myself!”
He hugged the basket in his arms. “I can tell Second Uncle we’re preparing for something and ask him to pick a good day.”
Du Heng wanted to handle it himself—after all, a bride’s family typically didn’t need to worry about such things. But seeing Qin Xiaoman dash inside, wrapping the scarf he had bought around his neck again, Du Heng let it slide.
“Alright, just come back soon. I’ll prepare the vegetables and boil water, so when you return, the wontons can go straight into the pot.”
“Okay!”
Qin Xiaoman ran off eagerly to Qin Xiong’s house. After the seventh day of the lunar new year, villagers usually stayed home, preparing for chores or spring plowing. His uncle’s family had returned from visiting relatives, so there were people at home.
“Second Uncle!” Qin Xiaoman called before even reaching the yard. Inside, it was bustling with people preparing food.
Qin Xiaozhu, carrying a basin of hot water to wash her brother’s hands, muttered under her breath, “Here he comes again.”
Qin An, washing his hands, glared at her. “How do you talk?”
Pouting, Qin Xiaozhu replied, “I just said something, and he can’t even say anything back. If you didn’t know, you’d think he was Second Brother’s own younger brother.”
Qin An raised his hand to tap Qin Xiaozhu, but she dodged. “Mother, look at him—he wants to hit me again!”
Li Wanjv, busy in the kitchen, hadn’t seen anything but shouted, “Second Brother, such a grown man, and you still bully Xiao Zhu?”
Qin Xiaozhu made a face at Qin An just as Qin Xiaoman ran in.
“Oh, Second Brother’s home too.”
Qin An’s tone softened. “Just got back from the fields. Xiaoman, come inside and sit. We’re cooking, so you can eat before heading back.”
Qin Xiaoman handed the basket to Qin An. “My husband made these wontons specially. We wanted you to try them.”
Qin An looked at the neatly arranged white dumplings. They were plump, at least twice the size of city dumplings, with filling that anyone who had eaten in town could appreciate.
The farmers’ eyes widened with desire. Qin Xiaozhu, who occasionally went to the city to buy a single bowl for herself, had only tasted this kind of food once in a while.
Though Qin An appreciated the meal, he knew the flour and meat were not ordinary. He pushed the basket back. “Why bring so many? Eat them yourselves with Du Heng.”
Qin Xiaoman hated this back-and-forth. Luckily, his aunt was straightforward and accepted gifts without ceremony.
“I ran all this way to deliver them. Bringing them back would be ridiculous. We have more at home, and Du Heng and I can’t finish it. They won’t keep.”
He shoved the basket into Qin An’s hands.
Feeling a bit embarrassed, Qin An accepted it and called Qin Xiaozhu to help carry it inside.
“Thanks to you and Du Heng, then.”
Qin Xiaozhu took the basket, secretly delighted, making sure her brother didn’t push it back. She wore a façade of indifference, though inwardly she was pleased.
He saw the rabbit-fur scarf around Qin Xiaoman’s neck and puffed up with pride. If it weren’t gray, he might have thought she had taken his.
“Copycat. You saw me buy a scarf and got jealous, so you went and got one too,” he teased.
Qin Xiaoman smiled, touching the soft fur around her neck. “This was bought for me by my husband!”
“Who cares,” Qin Xiaozhu rolled her eyes, irritated, carrying a basket into the kitchen. “Here, Xiaoman, take it.”
“Ah, your dad’s sent meat to him again!”
“Who knows about dad.”
Hearing the chatter from the kitchen, Qin An’s expression darkened slightly. “Xiaoman, sit down. Your mother and Zhuge’er have their tempers, their words aren’t always pleasant.”
But Qin Xiaoman was busy admiring her scarf, glowing inside. She paid no mind to these familiar jabs. “Where are Big Brother and Second Uncle then? Why aren’t they here?”
“Your father went out again, hasn’t returned yet. Big Brother’s busy,” Qin An replied, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Recently, we had a matchmaker set him up with a girl from the neighboring village. Both sides liked each other. No wonder he’s busy.”
Qin Xiaoman caught on immediately. “Is she pretty? Whose daughter is she?”
“Her surname’s Sun. They say she’s a sensible girl.”
“That’s good. Big Brother’s like a closed-off bottle; he needs someone who can talk properly.”
Qin An nodded. “Dad said the same. Mother isn’t entirely satisfied, but the bride price isn’t high, so she agreed.”
“And what about Second Brother?” Qin Xiaoman remembered her second uncle had asked if either brother had been matched yet.
Qin An scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “No news yet. Let’s wait a little longer.”
“No rush. Second Brother is still young.”
“Mm.”
Talking about family matters made Qin Xiaoman almost forget her own urgent business. Seeing that her second uncle still hadn’t returned and smelling the delicious food cooking, she felt her stomach grumble for home-cooked wontons.
“Oh, I’ve already discussed with Du Heng about hosting a banquet. Second Uncle hasn’t returned yet; when he comes back, Second Brother can help me pick a date,” she said promptly. “I’m hungry. I want to go home and eat.”
“All right! Father’s been nagging about this. Once it’s settled, he’ll finally feel at ease.”
Qin Xiaoman finished her words and headed home.
“I’m back!”
Hearing her, Du Heng poked his head out from the kitchen. “Come in quickly.”
“Hey!”
The freshly wrapped wontons went into boiling water and floated to the surface quickly. Du Heng tossed in cleaned leafy greens, prepared two bowls of broth, and scooped the cooked wontons into bowls.
The wrappers didn’t break, the fillings didn’t leak—a large, plump bowl.
Qin Xiaoman washed her hands, quickly wiped them on her waist, and carried the wontons into the main room. Today, she was going to eat properly at the table.
The pork was finely minced, with shrimp powder to enhance flavor, paste to remove the raw taste, pepper for aroma, and plenty of homegrown scallions, plus a beaten egg.
The filling was fragrant and firm. Even without broth, the spicy sauce added richness. Each wonton was plump, savory, and satisfying.
She ate silently, already quite hungry.
As they ate, Qin Xiong’s family also had their wontons.
“Du Heng is really skilled; he can cook anything,” Qin Xiong said when he returned home and saw the table full. He had thought his wife made the food, but before he could compliment, he got scolded for giving meat to Xiaoman. The couple bickered a bit in the kitchen.
The fragrant wontons, now cooked, brought everyone together at the table.
Li Wanjü thought Qin Xiong’s words were deliberately aimed at her; she felt irritated, thinking, “Even scolding me, he’s more skilled with food than a man.” Yet seeing a big bowl of delicious wontons in front of her, she couldn’t complain further.
She first served a bowl to Qin Xiaoman, then one to Qin Xiaozhu, left one for the absent eldest brother, and finally one for the second brother.
Though the portions weren’t evenly divided, each bowl was full, with large wontons. No one complained about the serving.
Qin Xiaozhu eagerly stuffed the wontons into his mouth. The fresh meat, aromatic and finely mixed with other ingredients, tasted far better than street stalls.
Though he didn’t want to admit it, he couldn’t help but envy Qin Xiaoman at that moment.
By chance, she had a skilled cook for a husband, and he was good-looking too—she’d gotten a bargain.
“Xiaoman said she’s going to settle things with Du Heng and asked Father to pick a good date,” Qin An, as the second elder, said while quickly eating, his head down. He had been wanting to eat since the wontons went into the pot.
“Is that true?” Qin Xiong asked, seeing his son nod and smiling. “They finally made up their minds. The seventh day of the second month is a good day. Better to settle it early; it won’t hold anything up.”
Li Wanjü snorted. “You’re more attentive to someone else’s son’s marriage than your own.”
“Wife, mind your words. Xiaoman’s father isn’t here, I’m his closest elder; naturally, I must be more concerned about his life events.”
Qin An agreed. “Yes, that’s right.”
“You’re the sensible one, Second Brother,” Li Wanjü said.
“I’ll handle his arrangements however I need to, but don’t expect to take money from me to cover others. Eldest Brother’s wedding also requires gifts and a banquet. We can’t spare much. Then there’s Second Brother’s marriage to prepare for. Zhuge’er isn’t young either; a substantial dowry is needed, or people will look down on him.”
“You treat that little bit of money like it’s the only thing in the world, talking as if I’ll never earn another coin in my life.”
That one meal ended in a quarrel.
The night wind whispered outside as Du Heng returned to the room.
By the lamplight, he sat on the windowsill and unfolded a letter.
Earlier that day, he had gone to the county town to buy some supplies and remembered Wei Feng’s words from three days ago.
Though he had already decided from the start not to leave, and had bought things for the household, he still visited the inn his uncle had mentioned.
He arrived a little late. By then, Wei Feng and his companions had already left, and Du Heng missed the chance to see his uncle.
He inquired and confirmed that Wei Feng hadn’t come to Luoxia County just for him; the merchant caravan had stopped there, and he likely received Du Heng’s letter and came to ask about him.
The innkeeper, apparently an old acquaintance of Wei Feng, handed Du Heng a few things upon seeing him: a letter from Wei Feng and twenty taels of silver.
Du Heng had already read the letter on the way home.
Wei Feng scolded him for refusing to go to Huizhou and insisting on staying in this remote, impoverished place. The letter said little beyond urging him to take care of himself.
But, as a wealthy family, they still left him some money so that, even in this backwater, he wouldn’t neglect himself. He could use it however he wished—continue his studies or handle his affairs as he saw fit.
Worried that he might be tightly controlled as a live-in husband, and knowing Du Heng’s husband-to-be was famed for his temper, the amount wasn’t large, just enough to prevent him from being exploited or encountering unnecessary trouble.
Du Heng knew that by the Wei family’s wealth, this sum was trivial, or perhaps Wei Feng had only come by chance. Yet he was deeply grateful—he had borrowed another’s body and received the care of Wei Feng’s family, a rare blessing.
If one day the Wei family needed him, he would remember this favor.
Du Heng read the letter once more and carefully put it back in the drawer. If not for this money from his uncle, he wouldn’t have been able to promise Xiaoman so quickly.
For his uncle, it was no more than a night’s entertainment expense, but in this small place, it was more than enough to set up a home and solve his immediate problem.
He planned that once the date was set, he would go to town to buy a cow as the bride price and pick up a few simple household items.
Though technically a live-in husband, with no parents on top, it was effectively just the two of them living together—no different from an ordinary marriage.
All the more reason he didn’t want to shortchange Xiaoman.
Besides, he valued these matters sincerely, never handling them carelessly.
Originally, he had intended this, but he arrived empty-handed, relying on his own savings, which would have taken a long time to accumulate enough.
Now that he had funds, there was no need to delay.
Earlier, buying Xiaoman a rabbit-fur scarf had already spent a large portion of his savings, so his uncle’s money came at just the right time.
Du Heng tidied the table, feeling a weight lifted off his mind. After speaking frankly with Xiaoman, he felt relieved.
He set the lamp by the bed, took off his shoes, and climbed under the covers.
Just as he was about to blow out the lamp, a gust of wind passed through the room, and a shadow suddenly appeared.
In the blink of an eye, a quilt was thrown onto his bed.
Du Heng turned his head to see Qin Xiaoman climbing onto the bed.
“What are you doing here?”
Xiaoman shook out the quilt, crouching on the bed. “Sleeping—together!”
Du Heng looked at the long, slender limbs of the one who had removed his outer clothing. He pressed his lips together, secretly delighted, though his expression remained calm. “The banquet hasn’t even been arranged yet.”
Xiaoman snuggled under the covers, lying on his side with only his eyes visible. “Who said today that they want to be my husband? It’s still early spring, freezing cold—if we’re not sleeping together, how can you claim to be my husband?”
Du Heng lowered his eyes, the corners of his mouth curling slightly, and slowly turned to lie beside him.
Qin Xiaoman, not thinking too much, assumed he was reluctant. Seeing him lying properly, he stealthily tugged at the edge of the quilt, sliding one leg in to rub against Du Heng’s calf. “Is it warm in your covers?”
“Just lay down. It’s not warm yet, though the soup warmer helps.”
“I don’t have a soup warmer here.”
Du Heng glanced at him. “Then come closer.”
“Really?”
Du Heng said nothing. Xiaoman grinned and climbed on top, cupping Du Heng’s face, smiling brightly.
“What are you doing?”
“Just admiring how someone’s face can be so handsome.”
Du Heng chuckled softly, then suddenly blew out the lamp.
“Hey!”
The moment the light went out, Xiaoman felt the quilt tighten around his waist—Du Heng had pinned him close.
“Why are you so stingy? Can’t I just look at you a little?”
In the darkness, Du Heng held him close, feeling the supple waist beneath his hands. He cupped the back of Xiaoman’s head and kissed him.
In the dim night, he struggled a bit to reach his lips, tasting the sweetness, and clung tightly for a while before letting go.
The room was filled only with the sound of their breathing.
After a long moment, Du Heng still hadn’t heard Xiaoman speak. He worried he might have frightened him.
Just as he was about to ask, Xiaoman spoke first. “Why did you keep touching me while kissing me just now?”
Du Heng nearly choked on his own saliva. The blunt question made his ears flush red.
He lowered his voice. “You’re shameless—how can you say everything so plainly?”
“There’s no one else here. Why can’t I say it?” Xiaoman said. “I asked you a question, answer me.”
Du Heng couldn’t bring himself to answer something like that.
“Isn’t it soft and comfortable?”
“……”
“I’m asking you.”
“Mm.”
Qin Xiaoman reached over and pulled at Du Heng. “Let’s kiss again. Don’t lie down this time—this time I’ll be on top.”
“Mm? Why?”
“I want to touch you too,” he said bluntly.
“……”
“Hey, hey, don’t be naughty.”
“You’re about to pull my trousers off. You can’t touch there…”
The next morning, Du Heng woke to the first light of dawn, preparing to get up and cook. Half of his body was numb.
Qin Xiaoman, like an octopus, was clinging to him, still fast asleep.
His companion had a terrible sleeping habit—snoring like thunder last night—so he hadn’t slept well.
He sighed softly, peeled the “octopus” off, covered him with the quilt, and wondered if it was too late for regrets.
He quietly got out of bed, tidied up, and went to the kitchen to heat up breakfast.
There were still a few wontons left from last night. He had dusted some flour over the remaining dough to keep it from sticking, so he could roll some noodles for breakfast.
As he kneaded the dough, someone knocked at the door.
Wiping his hands, Du Heng opened it to see Qin Xiong. “Second Uncle, up so early?”
“Have you eaten?”
Qin Xiong stepped into the courtyard, noticing the steam rising from the kitchen. “Noodles?”
“Mm, have some with me, Second Uncle.”
Shaking his head with hands behind his back, Qin Xiong said, “I just ate in the house.”
“Yesterday I heard you and Xiaoman are arranging things. I checked the almanac last night; the seventh day of next month is a good date. How does that sound?”
“Good. There’s still time to prepare everything.”
They discussed the banquet at length—how many relatives would come, how many dishes were needed—while skipping unnecessary formalities like the bride’s welcome ceremony. Their focus was entirely on the feast itself.
Du Heng even took out paper to carefully note everything. When they finished, Qin Xiong noticed Xiaoman hadn’t appeared and was about to ask, just as Xiaoman wandered out of the house, hair messy and sleepy-eyed.
Qin Xiong glanced at him, then at Du Heng, who cleared his throat without saying anything. Still, he thought highly of Du Heng—he looked gentle and refined, yet clearly had hidden depths.
“Second Uncle, why are you here so early?”
Qin Xiaoman scooped a basin of warm water and splashed it over his face without even using a washcloth, finally waking up a bit.
It was his first night sleeping in the same bed as Du Heng, and excitement had kept him awake half the night.
“It’s still early. I’ve already told Du Heng; he’ll discuss the rest with you soon.”
Hearing this, Xiaoman brightened. “Second Uncle, this is about the marriage, right?”
“What else could it be?”
Xiaoman couldn’t hide the smile on his face. “Got it.”
After Qin Xiong left, during a meal break, Xiaoman went inside to fetch a small, square box.
“This is the money I’ve saved over the years. Since we’re both getting married, there’s nothing to hide. The banquet will cost a fair amount.”
He emptied the box—silver and copper coins, no large silver notes, but several chunks of silver, big and small, enough that many families could only dream of such savings.
“Altogether about twenty taels of silver. Fifteen taels came from the compensation my father received from the county when he had that accident; the rest was leftover family money.”
Over the years, Xiaoman had been careful not to touch this money; daily expenses came from the crops he grew.
He was the only child left at home. Now, having found a decent husband and some luck, even if his two fathers were alive, they’d surely be pleased.
His younger father always supported him; whoever he liked, his father would approve. As for the elder father, Du Heng was a scholar—surely he’d appreciate that too.
Using family money to prepare the wedding was appropriate.
Seeing Xiaoman being so open with him, Du Heng naturally didn’t hide the money Wei Feng had left him.
They agreed: Xiaoman would cover the banquet, Du Heng would cover household items, making everything no different from ordinary marriages.
Two days later, they happily went to the county town together to shop.