Lu Yang sat close to him, quietly running his hands over Xie Yan’s waist, easing away his melancholy.
When Li Feng arrived, Xie Yan kept staring at him, leaving Li Feng a little dazed. Once they picked up the people and drove off, Li Feng noticed Xie Yan was still watching and asked, “What are you looking at?”
Xie Yan asked, “How did you build up all that strength? Can you teach me?”
Li Feng raised an eyebrow. Well, well—he had been meaning to deal with this bookish kid, and now, even before leaving the county, the bookish kid came knocking on his own.
Li Feng asked, “Who do you want to teach you?”
Xie Yan only wanted to call him by his given name; Li Feng insisted he call him “brother.”
Xie Yan replied, “My husband is senior; you’re younger in rank.”
Li Feng said, “Since they aren’t here, by age, you should call me elder brother.”
Xie Yan refused.
Li Feng said, “In that case, if you have nothing to do, go plow a few fields.”
Xie Yan: “… I don’t have time to plow.”
Li Feng looked at his expression and teased, “Can’t even lift your husband?”
Xie Yan didn’t admit it. “I can lift him!”
Li Feng asked, “Lift in place, or lift and walk? How long can you hold him? Lu Yang’s skinny—you manage him like that, aren’t you embarrassed? I’ll tell you this: I won’t tell anyone else, the brothers on the trip won’t teach you. Before leaving the county, if you call me elder brother, I’ll train you along the way. If not, in the future when I see you, I’ll just call you ‘Xie Meijin’.”
Xie Meijin: “….”
Xie Yan said, “I’m stronger than before; I know how to train.”
Li Feng could guess even with eyes closed. “A year of training, huh? What can you do now? Carry foot baths? By the time you make two trips, the water’s cold.”
Xie Yan didn’t know how to answer. He was strong—carrying water, running errands, even physical chores were fine—but his lower back lacked stamina. He couldn’t admit that. Without admitting it, calling Li Feng “elder brother” wouldn’t help him learn anything.
Li Feng glanced back at him, shook his head, and offered options: “Strength comes in many forms. Do you want arm strength, waist strength, abdominal strength, back strength, leg strength, or foot strength?”
Xie Yan: “…?”
So many options…
Seeing the city gates approaching, Xie Yan bargained: “I want to learn it all.”
Li Feng: “Then you’ll have to call me grandfather.”
Xie Yan: “I’ll start with waist and abdominal strength.”
Li Feng rubbed his ears.
Xie Yan quietly called out, “Elder brother.”
Li Feng reminded him, “Next time you see my husband, call him ‘brother’ too.”
Xie Yan turned his head. Next time, he would be with Lu Yang. He couldn’t handle being away from his husband—he’d already been put in his place as soon as he left!
On the first day of winter, Li Feng led a group to the prefectural city to sell mushrooms.
He hired five extra people, making ten in total.
His cart carried some luggage, along with Xie Yan and his attendant. The remaining nine carts were all goods.
This trip, they brought a small number of pictorial books and some leather hats and gloves, focusing on wild mushrooms. They also carried medicinal materials prepared by Hu Langzhong, including Lingzhi mushrooms, delivering them to the apothecary, completing this batch of business.
With Li Feng gone, the house felt quiet.
Hu Langzhong would go up the mountain to gather herbs on fair days. He also wanted to venture into deeper woods, accompanied by a few hunters, staying in a safe house for temporary lodging.
According to Hu Langzhong, he had gathered herbs on many mountains before, but never had shelter—he had to make do, sometimes sleeping in trees.
He especially liked the western mountains. Each day, his enthusiasm grew. When asked if he was tired, he said that the process itself was enjoyment, and finding good herbs was even more so.
In other mountains, he had only dared to bring two guards, never staying long. Now, with this rare opportunity, he could venture deeper.
Shunge’er understood Hu Langzhong’s feeling: the thrill of chasing the mountains, knowing treasures were hidden, yet uncertain what one might find, made every discovery a delightful surprise.
He couldn’t accompany them into the deeper mountains—only men went. If his elder brother were present, he could tag along. Going alone with a group of men was inconvenient.
In October, the drying yard stopped work for a few days. They consulted for an auspicious date to raise the main beam.
On that day, Mother and Shunge’er went to the new village to pray and offer incense.
Lu Yang, heavy with pregnancy and with a long path ahead amid a crowd, stayed home.
At home, an assistant oversaw Lu Yang’s needs.
After the altar and incense rituals, the beam-raising concluded, followed by a feast for the builders. The village head would also attend.
Many people gathered to watch. Once the next batch of goods was shipped, everyone focused on their own mushrooms, only bringing them to the drying yard to sell when it opened. Recently, no one came to sell at home.
Just as Mother had said, once the yard was complete, the household would have leisure time.
With nothing pressing, Lu Yang picked up an abacus, calculating wages, expenditures, purchase costs, taxes, and living expenses.
Their business yielded roughly 1,800 taels of profit per year. With the drying yard operating, labor costs would rise. Unlike during the rice cake season, when village labor was brief, long-term work required additional wages aside from profit sharing.
Compared to the profit share, these wages were minor. Everyone was content with the arrangement.
After accounting, the household’s annual profit was about 200 taels.
Lu Yang had previously only dared hope for 200 wen.
He calculated post-move expenses: with 200 taels, half would go to inventory, leaving 100 in hand.
Renting a place in the city, paying for public restrooms, and buying firewood added up. With no harvest yet, each day cost money. His elder brother said living in the city was costlier than the village—over two taels a month.
With a large family and children, expenses would total around 40 taels per year. Lu Yang rounded up to 50, leaving 50 taels to save.
Next year, after moving, they couldn’t save much; counting from the following year, by the time their child was five and starting school, they could have about 300 taels, enough for education.
Lu Yang set down the abacus, leaning back, contemplating.
Earnings shouldn’t just be saved—what needed spending should be spent.
Li Feng liked horses, traveling between places. Horses were more convenient than mules. By year-end, after accounting, with the shop rental shared, they would have surplus funds, enough to buy a horse for him.
Transporting goods risked bandits, so they took weapons along. Li Feng’s weapons needed repair at the blacksmith; he had mentioned it last year but hadn’t gone—this year, he would.
Shunge’er had recently grown eager to learn. Li Feng promised to buy him a beautiful inkstone in the prefectural city.
Mother had worked hard collecting mushrooms all year. She liked pork stomach but couldn’t eat it every day—there needed to be practical meals.
Life was about eating and staying warm. Lu Yang planned to make his mother a fine jacket. Mountain hands had rough skin and couldn’t wear silk; he’d buy good cotton cloth, ideally embroidered. She would look respectable outside, admired by all.
Clothes were ready, now to choose some jewelry.
Mother had lived a hard life, pawned her ornaments, and later saved for her sons’ wedding gifts. She claimed she didn’t care about material things, waiting instead to hold her grandchildren. As parents, they needed to consider her wishes and provide some adornments.
For his mother and Shunge’er, they would need about twelve taels. A horse would cost around fifteen, possibly more with price fluctuations. Lu Yang wondered if young Master Wu’s connections could secure a fair price.
