Lu Yang stifled a laugh, his lips pressed tight, but his mischievous eyes gave him away, leaving Xie Yan flustered and unable to continue for a long while.
After a moment, he finally said, “I’ve been busy for ages. I figured you guys must be worried too. I wanted to see what shape they were in after getting beaten up, so I went to their house to look for them.
First I went to Yuan Ji’s place. He was lying on the heated bed, moaning softly. I said I was his classmate and close friend. His family was surprisingly polite, even serving me tea. I mentioned I’d brought his essays for us to discuss. His family led me inside. When Yuan Ji saw me, he flew into a rage. I hadn’t even said a word, yet he was furious. It was truly strange. Seeing he was nearly choking with anger, I told him to calm down and look at the essay I’d revised for him. He didn’t read it—he tore it to shreds. What kind of unreasonable person does that? I’d spent ages writing it! I told him tearing up the paper wouldn’t help; a poorly written essay remains poor. Then he jumped off the bed and tried to hit me.”
Yuan Ji’s family, unaware of the cause, naturally tried to break up the fight.
Xie Yan didn’t wait around to be beaten up by the whole family. He slipped away quickly.
After running for a while, the more he thought about it, the more it didn’t add up.
He’d clearly come to provoke trouble, so why had he ended up being scared off instead?
If he ran away, wouldn’t Yuan Ji be overjoyed?
So he ran back. Daring not enter, he called from outside the door.
This family was domineering—they meddled in matters outside their door and even shooed people away from the alley.
Xie Yan was a bit single-minded and stubborn. He thought, This won’t do. Today would be wasted.
So he went to the street to tell stories. He talked about Yuan Ji’s terrible writing.
Unversed in social niceties, he was fundamentally unafraid of people. His emotional responses were slow, leaving him oblivious to awkwardness. A fine young man, yet he didn’t mind looking like a little old man.
Taking to the street to tell stories was what he excelled at and what he was meant to do. As the crowd grew, he grew more animated, his storytelling brimming with energy.
Across the entire Sanshui County—nine villages, ten plots of land—they couldn’t muster a thousand examinees. The literacy rate speaks for itself.
The nearby villagers didn’t understand the content, but seeing him perform so energetically, they treated it as entertainment. Some asked what this phrase meant, or that one.
Xie Yan was patient, explaining whenever asked. Many concepts couldn’t be grasped in a sentence or two, and the villagers didn’t press for details, lest they seem foolish. But they understood this story was poorly written—so badly that it couldn’t be summed up in a single sentence.
When asked who wrote it, Xie Yan gave a name, and word quickly reached Yuan Ji’s household.
Xie Yan had no idea how furious Yuan Ji became.
In any case, everyone in his household who could run—including Yuan Ji’s elderly father—chased him out, intent on beating him.
He took off running, hiding and dodging all the way, narrowly escaping danger.
“I visited one family today. Next time, I’ll go to another,” Xie Yan concluded.
Lu Yang applauded enthusiastically: “Brilliant! Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! You’re no longer some pitiful little scholar—you’re the firecracker of the literati world!”
Xie Yan pondered the “firecracker” comparison, then cheerfully accepted the title.
Zhao Peilan listened to his story, her eyes wide with undisguised shock. Soon, tears began to fall. Still eating, she couldn’t spare attention for the two children. She scooped some clean vegetables onto her plate, went back to the room to pay respects to Xie Yan’s father, and only then returned to finish her meal.
With the family’s improved circumstances, paying respects at the memorial tablet now included offering food alongside incense.
Lu Yang loved listening. Seeing she was still captivated, she had Xie Yan recount the most thrilling parts over and over.
The meal stretched on long. By the time they washed up and tidied, all three were yawning.
Returning to their room that night, Lu Yang dozed off while soaking her feet, her head nodding uncontrollably, utterly unable to stay awake.
After bathing, Xie Yan simply attended to his husband.
As he knelt before the foot basin, his hands dipping into the water, the moment his fingers touched Lu Yang’s feet, Lu Yang jolted awake. His eyes snapped open to find Xie Yan crouched before him, and he was so startled he couldn’t sit still. Barefoot, he scrambled to the floor and scrambled back several paces.
He was genuinely terrified.
Ever since their marriage, Xie Yan had accommodated him in every way.
After moving onto the kang bed, he’d even been guided by Lu Yang to learn how to please him.
Later, he’d even licked chicken soup for real. That alone had shocked Lu Yang beyond belief.
After the doctor’s visit, Xie Yan busied himself at home, tending to every detail—bringing medicine, fetching water, pouring drinks—whilst Lu Yang simply watched, secretly pleased.
But washing his feet? That was something Lu Yang couldn’t bring himself to do.
It felt too lowly.
He accepted younger servants tending elders, but between newlyweds? He disliked it.
Seeing Lu Yang’s strong reaction, Xie Yan froze, jolted awake from his drowsiness.
“What’s wrong? Did I touch you?”
He wasn’t even sure if he’d touched Lu Yang’s feet.
He motioned for Lu Yang to sit back down. “The floor’s cold. Don’t go barefoot.”
Lu Yang didn’t move. He raised his voice to ask, “What were you doing just now?” ”
Xie Yan blinked and answered honestly, “Washing your feet.”
Lu Yang pursed his lips, his expression unsettled. He couldn’t quite figure out what look to wear, but he refused to let Xie Yan wash his feet.
Unable to calm down, Xie Yan took two steps back. “Fine. You can keep soaking your feet. I won’t touch you.”
Lu Yang took a step forward, and Xie Yan retreated again.
The room was small. Before Lu Yang could sit down, Xie Yan had already backed to the doorway, looking pitifully at him.
Lu Yang relented. “Alright, you don’t have to leave.”
He didn’t soak his feet either. He just dipped them in the basin to rinse off the mud and grime, dried them, and climbed back onto the kang. Xie Yan still poured out the foot-washing water.
After this little incident, the couple could finally lie down in bed.
Lu Yang knew he’d overreacted earlier and even initiated a hug with Xie Yan: “Don’t read too much into it. I just didn’t want you washing my feet.”
Xie Yan didn’t understand: “Why? I’ve washed my mother’s feet too.”
Lu Yang found it hard to explain clearly, so he described what Xie Yan had understood.
Generally, wives and husbands who had to serve their masters at home were pitiful—they were the ones being worn down.
He’d seen Old Chen act that way when he was a child.
Hearing this, Xie Yan understood Lu Yang’s concern for him.
His hand gently stroked Lu Yang’s back as he said, “We’re different. We love each other. You treat me well, and I treat you well. There’s no need to dwell on it.”
The words struck straight to his heart, and Lu Yang snuggled closer.
Just as the moment grew tender, Xie Yan suddenly went limp and sprawled out, whispering, “Am I soft? Let you enjoy yourself.”
Lu Yang smiled again.
They lived in a shop, a large room partitioned into two smaller ones. The couple had to whisper even their quietest conversations, lest their mother overhear.
When it came to dirty talk, they had to be extra quiet. Lu Yang leaned close to Xie Yan’s ear and whispered every naughty thing he knew.
Xie Yan went limp, and Lu Yang fell asleep with a mischievous grin.
………………………………..
Half a month seemed short in theory, but felt interminably long in practice.
When the fortnight passed without Li Feng’s return, it became clear his trip would be delayed. The remaining days of waiting stretched out dreadfully.
Lu Liu busied himself for a while, then glanced at the clock to find the day hadn’t even ended yet.
Whenever he felt the days dragging on, a deep sense of grievance welled up inside him. Tears streamed out in waves, soaking his eyelids until they cracked, stinging at the slightest touch.
That day, Chen Guizhi found herself free and called him into the room to talk.
Lu Liu obediently followed, immediately apologizing upon meeting her.
“Mother, I was wrong. I won’t cry anymore.”
Chen Guizhi motioned for him to sit, and Lu Liu dutifully took a seat on the stool.
Lu Liu truly didn’t want to cry. In the village, someone who shed tears at the slightest provocation was called a mourner or a harbinger of misfortune—an unlucky omen.
But sometimes he couldn’t hold it in—it hurt too much.
Chen Guizhi told him, “Just wait another couple of days. Those three are experienced hunters. After spring comes, many animals leave their dens. Other hunters from the village will be up in the mountains too. A shout carries far. The hunting grounds on this mountain behind us are all divided up. Just tell us where they are, and we can find people to help. You care about him, but what if you wear yourself out?”
Lu Liu was stunned that she hadn’t scolded him. He felt touched and nearly cried again.
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