Go ahead, compete all you want—my little brother still likes me best. Heh.
Right on cue, Lu Liu also noticed Li Feng standing there all by himself and reached out a hand.
“Da Feng!”
Li Feng’s mood instantly lifted. He walked over and took his husband’s hand, completely ignoring Lu Yang’s smug grin. He looked straight at Xie Yan, eyes full of meaning: My husband cares about me.
Xie Yan: “…”
He was just thinking about how to clap back when he got hit with an even bigger blow.
Lu Yang called out,
“A-Yan, go grab some buns—make sure they’re the meat ones!”
The shop sold all kinds of food, but the meat buns were special—they were Lu Yang’s own recipe.
The very first time the brothers reunited at the market, they had meat buns together. Today, they were meeting again—so of course, it had to be meat buns.
Lu Yang hadn’t seen his brother in ages, and now his brother and brother-in-law—both blood relatives on his side—were here. If he just left them there awkwardly and made Xie Yan, who wasn’t close to them, entertain, the conversation would die real fast.
And it wouldn’t be right to make his brother and Li Feng get up and fetch their own food. So, Xie Yan got volunteered.
Xie Yan let out a reluctant “Okay,” but before he left, he shot a glance at both Lu Liu and Li Feng. The two of them were clearly feeling themselves.
Lu Liu: Hehe, Big Brother still likes me best.
Li Feng: See? Your man clearly doesn’t care about you.
This silent exchange was so obvious that even Lu Yang could’ve read it with his toes.
He sat down first. His little brother sat beside him. Li Feng sat beside Lu Liu. When Xie Yan came back, he had no choice but to squeeze in between Lu Yang and Li Feng.
That left Lu Yang and Li Feng facing each other—and Lu Liu and Xie Yan sitting face-to-face.
Once everyone sat down, the air turned… awkward.
Lu Yang glanced at the buns, then tried to break the ice. Time to boost his little scholar’s confidence.
“So, you all know each other now, right?”
Obviously, yes. That ship had sailed.
He followed up with, “You all know which one of us is older—me or Liu-ge’er?”
Li Feng immediately got a bad feeling.
Lu Liu, as clueless as ever, chirped, “Big Brother!”
Lu Yang smiled and pointed to Xie Yan.
“This is my man. You two can go ahead and call him ge (big brother).”
Li Feng: “…”
Lu Liu: “…?”
Xie Yan straightened up with pride, puffing out his chest.
He definitely knew how to pick his battles. He stared down Lu Liu first, and Lu Liu obediently mumbled, “Ge-fu…” (brother-in-law).
Then he turned his sights on Li Feng.
Li Feng deadpanned, “Lu Yang’s man.”
Xie Yan froze for a second—and then beamed.
Now that was the way to his heart. Li Feng had said exactly what he wanted to hear, so Xie Yan looked right at him and said,
“Lu Liu’s man.”
Li Feng suddenly didn’t find him quite as annoying anymore.
Just then, Lu Yang picked up a bun and placed it directly in Lu Liu’s bowl.
First bun of the meal—Lu Liu got it.
Lu Liu’s voice perked up. “Thanks, Big Brother!”
Xie Yan’s proud little chest visibly deflated. He didn’t perk back up until Lu Yang dropped a bun into his bowl too.
Lu Yang: “…”
Man, he really was the king of keeping things fair.
Lu Liu, a total foodie, immediately dug in. He’d heard his two dads praise his brother’s buns so many times, it had become a lifelong craving—and now that he was finally getting a taste, it was even better than he’d imagined.
The dough was soft and fluffy, the filling savory and juicy, and the juices had soaked into the wrapper perfectly—every bite was bursting with flavor.
There was dipping sauce on the table—soy sauce and vinegar—but he didn’t even bother. He just chomped straight into that bun and devoured it.
Then, with cheeks full of food and a huge smile, he picked one up and offered it to Li Feng:
“Da Feng, this is so good—try one!”
Sensing a bit of competition brewing between Li Feng and Xie Yan, Lu Yang cut in before it escalated.
“So how’s life at Li Village?”
He could already tell how things were going—just by the glow on his brother’s face.
Lu Yang had made sure to send someone to sell rice cakes because his little brother still looked just as silly—grinning all the time, eyes full of light.
He also remembered that day they swapped places—they’d changed out of everything, from their outerwear down to their socks and shoes. At the time, his brother had looked scrawny, with a pale yellowish complexion and a faint pregnancy mark.
But now, things were different. His cheeks had filled out, his color was much better, no more sallow tone—just a healthy, rosy glow. Even the pregnancy mark looked clearer.
Clearly, Li Feng had been taking care of him. He talked the talk and walked the walk—he truly cared, and he didn’t skimp on living expenses. That was good. Really good.
Lu Liu was living a good life and genuinely happy. The moment he opened his mouth, he couldn’t stop talking.
“I’m doing great! Da Feng treats me so well. We live down the mountain. Mama and my little brother live in the new village, so it’s just the two of us cooking for ourselves most days. I can eat four whole egg pancakes now! A while back, Da Feng was busy making rice cakes, and I just whipped up some vegetables to get by. He actually got mad and made me cook some meat and eat eggs! And I got to go to a banquet—so much meat! I’d never had that much before. I totally showed off and snatched up a ton of dishes! Everyone was stunned! Mama and my little brother kept saying how awesome I was! I even made a friend—he works in the kitchen and saved me a big bowl of meat. I get to eat meat every day. I’m so happy!”
He paused, then tacked on, “I even had pork stomach soup. And Er Huang played in the snow with me. That’s Da Feng’s hunting dog—he calls me ‘Daddy.’ I’m a dad now! Hehe.”
As he talked, Li Feng’s eyebrows kept twitching with pride. He even sat a little straighter.
His husband’s praise—it was like music to his ears.
Xie Yan, on the other hand, was not having such a good time. He thought about Lu Yang’s long days of hard work, how they’d been cutting back on food to save money, and suddenly, he couldn’t sit still. He squirmed in his seat, guilt all over his face.
Who could still eat buns after hearing that? He wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.
Under the table, Lu Yang nudged him lightly with his foot.
There was nothing under the table to block it, and they were sitting close. Xie Yan felt the nudge clearly—and saw it, too. It gave him a bit of comfort, enough to settle down.
Since the brothers had switched places, Lu Liu knew Lu Yang hadn’t had a great impression of Li Feng, so he kept talking:
“Da Feng hasn’t been up the mountain lately. He’s been busy making rice cakes and earned some money. We already bought all our New Year stuff. Last time I came to the market, there wasn’t much worth buying, but I did get this really delicious pancake—Da Feng insisted I try it. Ten copper coins for one. It was so good.”
He took another bite of his bun and tilted his head up to look at Lu Yang.
“But it’s not as tasty as the ones you make.”
Lu Yang chuckled.
For someone supposedly dumb, the kid sure knew how to flatter.
Everything was going well—so Lu Yang didn’t nitpick. But this seating arrangement, with him and Li Feng facing each other, meant every time he looked up, he had to see Li Feng looking all smug. If he didn’t find some way to mess with him a little, he wasn’t Lu Yang.
So he said,
“Oh really? Is that how your man feels about it?”
Lu Liu blinked, confused. “Huh?”
He immediately turned to look at Li Feng, his eyes wide and shiny like a puppy.
Li Feng: “…”
He didn’t feel like talking.
Xie Yan seized the moment and jumped in:
“Well, what do you say—are these buns good or not?”
Li Feng now found Xie Yan annoying again.
What exactly does this guy see in Lu Yang that makes him worship him like this?
Still, he muttered, “They’re good.”
Satisfied, Lu Yang decided that was enough teasing for now. Since they were already talking about rice cakes, he switched the topic back to business.
He was quick with numbers. Ignoring the base costs, just the price difference between retail and wholesaling to the rice shop didn’t sit right.
Twenty copper per pound selling direct versus sixteen to the rice shop. That’s a four-coin difference per pound. A hundred pounds would be four hundred copper lost. And those small village operations—how many pounds could they produce in a batch?
Once volume goes up, Li Feng can’t handle it alone. He’s gotta hire people and build a team.
Last time Xie Yan came back from Li Village, he mentioned it was quite the scene—lots of men working the rice cakes, plus wives and husbands helping with the molds.
Once you subtract the costs and split the profits, you still have to pay wages. How much could each family really make? Honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that winter leaves them with no other work, trying to live off rice cakes would starve them all.
Lu Yang said plainly,
“Selling a few hundred pounds of rice cakes is easy. Take them to the market during the holidays—people buy a ton. Sure, it’s more work, but if you’re willing to hustle, even after stall fees, you’ll make way more than just selling to the rice shop.”
Li Feng was no fool when it came to numbers. Business talk without figures was meaningless, so he used last month’s sales to explain.
The rice shop offered them rice at a discounted rate—one coin off per pound. Buy 500 pounds and save 500 coins.
Their first batch of rice cakes, they sold 300 pounds to the shop—at four coins less per pound. That was 1,200 coins lost.
So on one side, they saved 500 coins on rice, but lost 1,200 on the cakes. The profit margin for that whole deal? Negative 700 coins.
