Chen Guizhi nodded repeatedly. “That’s right, he’s a clever one.”
Lu Liu nearly cried with emotion.
Mother praised him for being clever!
The sauce in the kitchen still needed watching, or Er Tian would mess it up.
He’d sat outside long enough, so he returned to the kitchen with a smile.
Li Feng chatted with Chen Guizhi outside for a moment before heading to the kitchen too.
When he arrived, Er Tian insisted on leaving.
Since he wouldn’t stay, Shun Ge looked from his older brother to his sister-in-law. The half-understanding child grinned, winking and making faces before heading out too.
Lu Liu was in a good mood, humming mountain songs while stir-frying the sauce.
Li Feng helped out beside her. Lu Liu felt shy and sang softly.
The bold words of love became cheerful and sweet.
They lacked intensity, just like his outward personality—soft and warm.
When Li Feng sang a line back to him, Lu Liu flinched like a startled fawn, glancing sideways before blushing and joining in the playful call-and-response.
Deep affection, sweet as honey.
……………………………………………
The worst part of daily life is chaos—a jumble of tasks that never seems to unravel.
After a few busy days, Lu Liu sorted out the “main dishes” and “side dishes,” finding her anchor.
Just like household chores—they never end. People need clothes and food to live, and things in the house move around or gather dust even when still. Even the laziest person faces seasonal changes, when bedding and clothes must be swapped out. Firewood and water needed constant replenishment, and meals were non-negotiable—when the hour came, she headed to the kitchen.
These tasks, when listed, seemed endless and chaotic. In her daily work, Lu Liu prioritized, set schedules, and juggled both sides simultaneously.
Urgent matters took precedence; when the hour struck, she set aside whatever she was doing. If rushing to finish, he completed the hour’s tasks and pressed on without delay.
He worked tirelessly, squeezing in minor chores whenever possible.
Daily tidying was simple, requiring only diligence.
When hands were free, he chose a sunny day to clean inside and out.
This way, hot meals are served at every meal, the heated bed and hot water are ready daily, clothes and socks stay clean, and everything feels fresh inside and out.
When everything is handled smoothly, you have a clear grasp of things. Then you can find moments of leisure amidst the busyness, knowing which tasks can wait or be piled up. This creates free time for rest, play, or doing things you enjoy.
In his experience, a day should have a few main tasks—don’t let trivial matters crowd it out.
Otherwise, you pick things up and put them down, wasting time and energy going back and forth. When you tally it up, you haven’t accomplished much, yet you’re exhausted.
Speaking of exhaustion, making stir-fried sauce lately has been draining. He even feels sleepy while soaking his feet at night.
Too busy during the day, he’d clutch his character book to study while soaking his feet at night.
Li Feng hadn’t yet sought out the old scholar to learn characters; things at home had been too hectic lately. Both diligent and eager to learn, they’d now begun teaching each other.
Li Feng focused on mountain produce terms, while Lu Liu learned counting money and rabbit-raising vocabulary, plus common village surnames like Yao, Miao, Chen, and Wang.
As Lu Liu repeated mushroom names with him, his eyelids grew heavy.
Li Feng said, “No more studying tonight. Wipe your feet and go to sleep.”
Lu Liu wanted to learn.
He always thought he was slow, and if he was slow, he had to work harder.
He said, “I won’t learn much. I’ll just repeat after you a couple more times, then I’ll sleep.”
He’d start by getting familiar with the characters. Day by day, he’d recognize them.
No more hot water was added to the basin. Li Feng led him through one more recitation before it was time to wipe his feet and climb onto the heated bed.
Lu Liu got onto the bed and tried to stumble through the names himself, but he didn’t recognize most of them.
After Li Feng returned with the foot-washing water, he’d read along once more before bedtime.
As the weather warmed slightly, Lu Liu felt cold sleeping alone. Sharing the bed with Li Feng kept him warm.
They no longer heated the bed at night. Once tucked in, he’d curl up against Li Feng.
After so long, he’d grown accustomed to it.
Li Feng said, “When it gets hotter soon, you’ll have to sleep on one side of the bed and I’ll sleep on the other. You’ll take the east side, I’ll take the west.”
Lu Liu lay limp and soft against him, not even hugging him tightly, his voice lazy.
“Why? I don’t want to.”
Li Feng called him silly. “My body’s like a furnace. When it gets hot, you won’t be able to bear holding me.”
Lu Liu was drowsy, as if deep in thought—or perhaps just too tired to respond promptly. He said, “My body stays cool. When it gets hot, you can hold me.”
Those words were sweet indeed, and Li Feng’s eyes crinkled with a smile.
No more was said that night. The next day, they continued stir-frying the sauce.
They still needed over thirty pounds more, which would take another two days.
Lu Liu had worked at home before. Back then, with fewer family members, he claimed he never did heavy farm labor. Yet during busy seasons when both fathers worked the fields, he handled chores inside and out—carrying water, splitting firewood. He had strength and could endure hardship.
Recently, with the new business starting up, everything was chaotic, leaving him no spare moments. Now that he’d sorted out priorities, he had a clear plan. Busy as he was, there was order amid the chaos. He tackled tasks methodically, no longer rushing headlong. He’d take breaks in between.
The small shop was currently the family’s main source of income. Selling goods in the village meant talking until their lips were sore—it was neighborhood business, after all. Good relationships were crucial.
Mountain produce was the family’s “meat dish”—currently their most profitable venture. Living off the land meant that as long as the mountains remained, they would have enough to eat. With limited manpower, good relationships were also essential to convince other families to sell their mountain goods to them.
Raising rabbits required long-term commitment. After careful consideration, Lu Liu finally shifted his focus.
He’d originally planned to raise chickens for profit, but since it wasn’t the right season, he turned to rabbits instead. Whether chickens or rabbits, raising them required patience—only when they grew large and numerous could he make money.
To earn money, he had to do it right. Livestock weren’t easy to care for. Whenever he had a moment, he’d check on the rabbits, inspecting their droppings and monitoring their spirits, afraid of any mishap.
Now that he had a solid plan, he understood rabbit farming couldn’t be rushed. He fed them three times a day and took quick glances whenever he went to the outhouse.
Straw couldn’t be changed daily, so like Erhuang’s rabbits, regular cleaning sufficed.
This way, feeding was the only daily chore, leaving him some free time.
Making stir-fried sauce remained the busiest task, taking up the most time.
Having decided he could bring others into the partnership, Lu Liu felt much lighter. Mainly, his mindset had eased.
Yao Fulang and Miao Xiaohuo often came to ask. They got along well and were clearly looking for partners. His friend hadn’t spelled it out completely, leaving room for maneuver. But dragging it out wasn’t a solution.
For the sake of family harmony and smooth relations with relatives, he had also taken the initiative to be friendly toward Chen Fulang. Since he had shown goodwill, Chen Fulang, drawn by the prospect of a full belly and a bit of extra income, often dropped by the house. He couldn’t keep them waiting indefinitely without an answer.
He’d never been good at socializing, and these three people were putting him in a tough spot.
Now it was settled. He could finally speak plainly.
The weight lifted from his heart. His arms and legs felt lighter, and work didn’t seem so exhausting anymore.
Today, Yao Fulang came again.
Ever since the little shop opened, he’d been dropping by often.
With nothing much to do at home, he’d usually come over to chat and pass the time, keeping his hands busy with needlework or bamboo weaving.
There wasn’t much sewing to do, and the bamboo weaving took up space, so later he’d help Chen Guizhi sort through the mountain goods.
He usually avoided the kitchen. With the sauce being stir-fried, it wasn’t convenient for him to go in.
That day, he’d barely sat down when Lu Liu finished stir-frying a pot of mushroom sauce and stepped outside for some air. They bumped into each other, and Lu Liu invited him inside to talk.
Yao Fulang followed with a smile: “What’s up? Can’t we talk outside?”
Lu Liu motioned for him to sit and offered him a steamed bun.
The bun was leftover from breakfast, steamed thinly.
Out of habit, she’d packed it full of vegetable leaves—it could almost be called a vegetable bun.
Living as a family, no one complained. He scooped half a spoonful of mushroom paste with a small ladle, spread it with chopsticks, then folded and rolled the pancake. Every bite carried the savory aroma of the paste, with chunks of mushrooms to chew on. After a few more bites, bits of meat appeared too.
The whole family loved it. For the past couple of days, whenever they boiled noodles, they’d mix them with greens and paste.
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