Xie Yan let him have his way: “My husband gave it to his younger brother. Do with it as you please.”
He also intended to lend a hand, sparing Lu Yang future worries. “I’ll be heading to the provincial capital in a few months,” he said. “I’ll pick up a few more sketchbooks then.”
Having read extensively, he knew the tricks of the book trade and advised Li Feng: “When you print them, don’t bind them in the original order. Mix them up randomly. When people open them, they’ll see fresh, different content. They’ll think it’s a new book and pay to buy it.”
Li Feng looked at him in surprise: “You can do that?”
Xie Yan nodded. “Exactly. That’s how we scholars spend our silver.”
Li Feng was impressed.
For once, the two parted on friendly terms without bickering.
Lu Erbao’s chicks were in Wang Meng’s cart. Wang Meng and Da Qiang were waiting near the city gate; they planned to meet up there shortly.
Among the six piglets, one was reserved for Lu Lin. Lu Yang had Xie Yan bring it out first, placing it in a cage found in the courtyard. They’d take it home together when Lu Lin and his wife finished work.
As dusk fell, the house gradually grew quiet.
Shortly after the two fathers left, Lu Lin and his wife returned from work.
A little while later, Xie Yan went to the front to take down the shop sign, remove the door panels, and close up the shop.
After dinner, curfew began, and the back door could be shut as well. No one would come by suddenly to buy vegetables or sauce anymore.
That night, while waiting for the water to boil for washing up, the family of three each held a book to read.
The book had a title already: The Handbook for Answering Imperial Examination Questions.
Lu Yang’s literacy hadn’t kept pace, and Zhao Peilan hadn’t read much in recent years, having forgotten many characters.
They read slowly and with difficulty, so they had Xie Yan read aloud to them.
Xie Yan began reading from the title on the cover. When he reached the author’s signature—“Xie Zhuozi”—Lu Yang echoed the name aloud: “Zhuozi.”
One adopts a courtesy name to use when interacting with others outside the family.
Xie Yan had few friends and hadn’t mingled in scholarly circles for years. Not even Wu Pingzhi had ever called him by that name.
Lu Yang’s sudden utterance of it stirred an odd sensation in Xie Yan, like something had scratched him, leaving a tingling itch.
They read through six pages before the water boiled.
They washed up first, then gathered around the stove to listen to the book for a while longer.
Zhao Peilan, seeing the late hour, urged them to sleep early: “Don’t burn the midnight oil.”
Both husbands agreed, but once inside their room, they grew clingy again.
The clingy one was Lu Yang. He truly missed Xie Yan. With a rare day off, they’d been busy with this and that, leaving only the night for some intimacy.
Xie Yan rarely saw him act so clingy. He grasped his hand, feeling the emotions welling up inside. It was strange—he wasn’t upset, yet his heart felt full and tight with a bitter ache.
Xie Yan lifted him onto the kang, causing Lu Yang to let out a small gasp.
“You can actually lift me!”
Xie Yan’s hands were strong, and the room was small—just a couple steps. He didn’t lift him waist-high; he simply wrapped his arms around Lu Yang’s waist and hoisted him up like a green onion, setting him down to sit on the kang.
Lu Yang’s genuine surprise embarrassed Xie Yan.
Xie Yan said, “Next time I’ll carry you around the room.”
Lu Yang jabbed him right in the chest: “Just one lap?”
Xie Yan replied, “Just one lap. Next time you’ll have put on some weight, gotten a bit plumper, like when we were training strength together. Then I’ll be able to carry you around the whole room.”
He hadn’t actually increased the challenge, but Lu Yang felt pleased nonetheless. This simpleton was getting sweeter with his words.
Xie Yan fell silent for a moment before replying, “Here’s the thing—I didn’t kill the chicken. Someone else did that. Someone else plucked it too. I just chopped it up. As for the seasoning? I just watched them add spoonful after spoonful.”
He remembered the size of the spoon and the amount of seasoning it held. Next time, he could just measure it out the same way—no mistakes.
Lu Yang said, “My dad bought me two bags of sugar today. He wants me to stew eggs.”
That’s good—simple and convenient.
Speaking of which, you could also steam them. Xie Yan recalled a soup recipe and told him, “You could also steam lean meat soup with codonopsis root added.”
Earlier that day, he’d gathered some medicinal herbs for dietary supplements and consulted the old herbalist about the dosages. Only a few slices were needed—two or three would suffice.
Lu Yang agreed to everything. He also asked what the old herbalist had said: “Sometimes I feel heavy inside, and other times I feel light and free. Today, I feel really happy.”
Xie Yan briefly explained, then took his wrist and asked, “Will you be happier when I go home?”
Lu Yang only smiled, offering no reply.
Xie Yan pressed further, his voice gentle: “I’ll be gone for a while. Will you be happier when I return?”
Lu Yang just smiled, still silent.
Xie Yan spoke briefly, feeling his pulse as he asked, “When I go home, does it make you happier?”
Lu Yang only smiled, offering no reply.
After Xie Yan pressed him twice, Lu Yang finally said, “How could I not be happy seeing you? But we can’t see each other often. We both have work to do. Sticking together like glue won’t get us anywhere.”
He played on the homophones for “money” and “desire” with Xie Yan.
The “money” in silver coins, the “desire” in craving something.
Xie Yan fell silent, kissing him in the dark—from his forehead to his cheek, then his lips.
Lu Yang pressed his lips tightly shut, not giving an inch. Tickled, he clamped them even tighter.
Even when he smiled, his lips curved without parting.
As he spoke, his lips parted, offering a deep kiss.
Lu Yang flinched for a moment before relaxing, letting him kiss him.
They had been married only a short time. Xie Yan was young and full of vigor. Lu Yang, calculating the days, knew he couldn’t join Xie Yan in striving for the top scholar title—he lacked the strength. So he helped prepare him, using his hands.
His intentions were pure, but he hadn’t anticipated Xie Yan’s lingering inhibitions in this realm. Afterward, Xie Yan was left hoarse, looking like a pitiful little creature whose veneer of refinement had been torn away.
Xie Yan went off without a word.
Once the candle was lit, Lu Yang could see his features more clearly, his laughter trembling in his voice.
Xie Yan stood frozen, his face flushed crimson. He blew out the candle and leaned in to kiss him again.
Lu Yang reached out and gave him a rough pat, and he immediately calmed down. Then Lu Yang laughed at him again.
Seeing Lu Yang laugh so freely, Xie Yan couldn’t help but smile too.
Alright, it wasn’t easy to make him happy.
No words were spoken that night.
The next day, Xie Yan rose early.
The steamed buns and dumplings had been prepared the night before, so he simply steamed them today.
He cut some lamb, prepared it according to the steps, and placed it on the stove to simmer slowly into lamb broth.
This pot of soup used over a pound of meat, and Lu Yang couldn’t finish it all.
Xie Yan told Zhao Peilan, “Mother, you can eat with us later. This stuff doesn’t taste good if you leave it sitting.”
He wouldn’t be eating; he still had to go to the private school.
After finishing this task, seeing it was still early, he went back inside to check on Lu Yang.
Lu Yang had woken up and was sitting on the kang, yawning.
Seeing Xie Yan, she asked, “Are you going to school?”
Xie Yan could wait a bit longer. He’d leave once Wu Pingzhi came to call him.
Lu Yang moved closer and embraced him. “Let you enjoy this moment, so you know your husband can be soft too.”
Xie Yan savored it.
Bliss closed his eyes.
Then Wu Pingzhi came knocking. Xie Yan sighed heavily.
Ah!
While opening the door, Xie Yan hung up the shop sign. Wu Pingzhi and the driver helped unload the door panels. Together with Zhao Peilan, he carried the steamer baskets to the stove by the front door.
Business opened for the day. Young Master Wu bought thirty small buns for fifty coins, saying he’d treat a certain classmate to breakfast.
It was his own shop, so Xie Yan reached out to him: “Treat me too.”
Wu Pingzhi handed him two small buns: “You cheapskate. Let your husband treat you.”
Hearing the word “husband” reminded Xie Yan of this morning’s pleasure. He grinned happily, not responding to Wu Pingzhi.
Wu Pingzhi, being single, naturally didn’t understand what pleasure meant.
So softness was pleasure.
Next time he came back, he’d be soft too, letting Lu Yang enjoy himself.
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