Lu Liu hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “No.”
Nights were long, after all. Two people sharing a bed—what else were they supposed to do if not have some fun? Just chatting felt dull. His body even felt restless.
He said firmly, “I want to be the head chef.”
Lu Yang nearly burst out laughing.
He had taken Li Feng’s cart back early so he could leave with his brother.
Xie Yan was trailing behind, dragging Lu Lin and the others along.
After buying glutinous rice, Li Feng stopped by the front to settle accounts with Xie Yan.
They’d sold eighty catties of rice cakes at the shop—mostly thanks to support from nearby vendors and neighbors. Give it more time, and they could sell the whole cart without breaking a sweat.
Word had already gotten around. Not wanting to make things difficult for the others, Li Feng had them weigh and unload the rest of the rice cakes too. He left 350 catties of rice cakes at the grain store. A few odd pounds here and there didn’t matter. If they sold them retail, the cut would come to seven taels of silver.
He didn’t take payment upfront—he’d wait until everything was sold.
To be fair, he lowered the price by two coins per catty, so everyone shared the profits.
Xie Yan refused to take a cut no matter what.
Li Feng then turned to Lu Yang, who also refused.
Lu Yang was more smooth about it: “If you really feel bad, just buy me a meat pie later—consider it my booth fee.”
Fair enough.
Li Feng went next door to the liquor shop and picked up two jars of wine—twenty-five catties each. Boss Ding had already told the workers to tie them up securely with straw rope. As long as the cart didn’t flip, a few bumps on the road wouldn’t be a problem.
Lu Yang grabbed a basket of steamed buns for Lu Liu to eat at home.
Once again, Lu Liu pulled his scarf up to cover his face. With his brother beside him, he felt a little shy. But before leaving, he looked longingly back at the shop.
He rarely ever left the village, and now that he had to go, he was already feeling the sting of parting.
Lu Yang reminded him, “You forgot? We’ll see each other again in a few days. We still need to swap stuff.”
Lu Liu pouted, “You’re going to Chenjiawan. I’m not going with you.”
Poor little guy—clingy, too.
Lu Yang chuckled, “Once you’re done handling things in the village, you can come with Li Feng to the county to pick up goods. Let him run errands while you come find me. I’ll make you something good to eat. Since lunch was a mess today, I’ll cook next time.”
Lu Liu nodded happily. “Having a shop is so great. You can earn money, make friends, and even come into town.”
Still, there weren’t many people in the village, so there wasn’t much profit to be made. Most of the work came from collecting mountain goods, and that was no easy job.
Li Feng bought them both meat pies. Lu Yang tasted the filling and thought it was similar to his steamed buns—just juicier and richer.
He saw how Lu Liu was devouring it with obvious delight. The pies weren’t cheap, so he gave Lu Liu some cooking tips: “I haven’t made these before, so it might not be perfect. But give it a shot at home. Meat pies never taste bad. Try mixing different fillings until you get the hang of it. Then, whenever you’re craving one, you won’t need to travel this far just to eat.”
Lu Liu nodded eagerly, mouth full, and then launched into full-on praise mode, showering his brother with compliments.
After the pies, Lu Yang covered his face, and it was Lu Liu’s turn to “breathe.”
Once they passed the city gates, there were lots of people on the road—mostly folks from nearby villages. Among them were some men from Li Village selling rice cakes.
They noticed a young husband on Li Feng’s cart and asked about him, but didn’t press. They all chatted along the way.
When they got to Shangxi Village, Li Feng told the others to go ahead. Lu Yang jumped off the cart and ran all the way home to grab five cookbooks, which he gave to his brother as a blessing—wishing him success in his culinary adventures.
Even though the phrasing was innocent, the meaning underneath wasn’t exactly clean—it was suggestive in a very not-so-subtle way.
Even Li Feng couldn’t help giving Lu Yang a double take. He was standing right there, listening—did Lu Yang have no shame?
The whole day had gone by just fine, but Lu Yang had to end it with that smug look. Li Feng shot him a glare.
Lu Yang didn’t back down. “What? You’re fine doing it, but can’t stand hearing about it?”
Lu Liu quickly jumped in to break up the tension, “Brother, brother—Da Feng, Da Feng…”
His awkward attempt at peacemaking made Lu Yang burst out laughing.
“Alright, fine, you two get going. I’ll have A-Yan write some more characters, and next time we meet, I’ll teach you.”
Li Feng grumbled, but didn’t say no in the end.
After all, being literate wasn’t something everyone had the privilege of in times like these.
Lu Liu thanked him too, though a bit shyly. “I heard learning to read is really hard… and I’m not that smart…”
Lu Yang reassured him, “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got a few illustrated books. You two can learn the characters by looking at the pictures. It’s actually a great way to learn. I already recognize a good number of characters that way.”
Li Feng: “……”
Lu Liu blushed, but there was a spark of hope in his eyes.
“Thanks, big brother.”
He finally admitted that Xie Yan was pretty useful too, and added, “Brother-in-law’s amazing.”
That sent Lu Yang into another fit of laughter.
Perfect. Tonight, he was going to make his little scholar husband blush.
So impressive, huh? Knows how to read? Then he definitely deserved to be read a few steamy bedtime stories tonight—really make the most of the long night ahead.
By the time Lu Liu and Li Feng made it back to Li Village, night had already fallen.
They stopped at the new village to rest and unloaded the glutinous rice.
Lu Yang had packed a basket of twenty meat buns for Lu Liu. He pulled out half and gave them to Chen Guizhi and Shun.
Chen Guizhi was startled at first, thinking they must have bought them in the county. She held back from digging in for a moment until she heard Lu Liu say with a smile, “Mom, my big brother gave these to me. He runs a shop in the county. He made the buns himself—try one.”
Chen Guizhi glanced at the buns, then at Li Feng unloading the rice, and then at Shun and the couple Er Tian and his wife, who were already drawn over by the smell.
She asked, “What kind of brother gives you this many buns?”
Plain white buns might’ve been one thing—could’ve been vegetable-filled—but these were clearly handmade meat buns, rich with oil and soy, thin-skinned and overstuffed. One glance, and your mouth would water.
Lu Liu chuckled. “My real brother.”
Li Feng, overhearing, chimed in to divert her focus. “Ma, just go ahead and eat. Give Shun two while they’re still warm. He carried them back inside his coat—they’re still piping hot.”
Er Tian got pinched by his wife, Wang Dongmei, and piped up with a grin, “Hey big bro, not even one for me?”
Li Feng didn’t budge. Normally he’d let the little things slide. He was the older brother, after all—if he could teach, he’d teach. But this one? He held a grudge even over earning a few silver and marrying a husband.
Some things just didn’t deserve further discussion.
There was another family in the village, where one brother bullied the honest one. The parents favored the bully, worked the good son like a mule, and in the end he couldn’t even get married. All the money and food he earned, he still went hungry himself.
That wasn’t the case in their family, but Er Tian wasn’t satisfied. He seemed to resent that Li Feng didn’t get treated that way.
It was pathetic.
Li Feng said flatly, “Doesn’t your wife have a brother? Go ask him.”
That settled it. Lu Liu had no reason to share, and that was just fine.
Wang Dongmei forced a laugh. “Big brother, I know you look down on your poor relatives. Sure, our family’s poor—but I didn’t even ask for much dowry, did I?”
She didn’t sound confident this time and didn’t even glance at Lu Liu.
A county relative was different, after all. The uncle who came for the wedding had brought fancy gifts—meat, sweets. When she went back to her mother’s house, they were all smiles and gave her clothes and tofu.
And now this new brother shows up, handing out twenty meat buns like nothing.
Seriously, who else in the whole village could top that?
Li Feng ignored her.
He’d bought 450 catties of glutinous rice—nine sacks in total. At the city gate, he’d shared a few sacks out to other carts. Even so, he still had four on his own.
Four sacks didn’t sound like much, but when Er Tian helped carry one, Li Feng made a mental note of it and appreciated the effort.
But just standing there watching and asking for meat buns without lifting a finger? Then letting his wife run her mouth when things didn’t go her way? Li Feng had no patience for them.
Lu Liu didn’t like hearing anyone badmouth Li Feng. He was about to speak up and repeat what he’d once said about Chen Fulang—not worth his respect—and say the same about Wang Dongmei.
Before he could, Chen Guizhi cut in smoothly: “Go to the kitchen and dish up two bowls of rice. You two can eat inside your own room.”
Li Feng had just finished unloading the last sack and was clapping the dust off his hands.
Afraid of getting hit, Er Tian didn’t argue and pulled Wang Dongmei toward the kitchen.
Though the couple didn’t say anything, when they served themselves, they didn’t hold back. Even knowing there were four people waiting to eat here, they cleaned out the pot—leaving only the scrapings at the bottom, barely a drop of broth or a bite of vegetables.
