They used to barely manage a few litters of rabbits. A single rabbit didn’t yield much meat, and although raising an extra litter meant earning a bit more, breeding took months. And if you weren’t careful, they died—leaving you with nothing to sell.
It was strange, really. They raised other livestock—dogs, chickens, even mules—yet rabbits were the ones that kept dying. Well, not rabbits in general; mostly the mothers right before or after giving birth.
They treated rabbits as wild game to be sold, not animals to be cared for the way they treated their hunting dogs. If they were willing to put in a little more effort, half of their breeding problems would disappear.
Yao Fulang said, “I’m idle anyway—might as well give it a try.”
Working together meant sharing experience. If someone’s rabbits had an issue, they’d trade tips, and if nothing worked, they’d ask around. But each family still raised their own stock.
Lu Liu finished cutting his paper and headed off to print books. Yao Fulang didn’t follow; he went to sit in the courtyard instead.
Shun-ge’er was sorting mushrooms. When he saw Yao Fulang come out, he poured him tea.
Yao Fulang wanted to tease him a bit, and Shun-ge’er was already half-afraid of him.
Then he started chatting with Chen Guizhi. “Auntie, can I help sort mushrooms too?”
Chen Jiu immediately cut in: “No.”
Yao Fulang rolled his eyes. “You’re just a hired hand. Who are you to say no?”
Chen Jiu said, “Exactly. I’m a hired hand. You’re not. I don’t agree.”
Yao Fulang snorted. “You’re a helper. If I came to sell mushrooms, I’d be a customer. Just wait—there’ll be a day when you’re begging me for something.”
Chen Jiu: “…”
He might be a helper, not the boss, but he couldn’t just refuse business.
He glanced at Chen Guizhi. She looked at Yao Fulang and said, “It’s actually not very busy here.”
Sorting mushrooms was tedious, but you could do it whenever you had time. Otherwise, they just needed to be dried and bagged.
Once the rainy season arrived, drying the mushrooms became troublesome. She would even tell people to take them home, dry them themselves, and bring them back to sell.
There were more mushrooms during rainy days—too many for the two courtyards to handle.
Yao Fulang was only asking out of curiosity. He couldn’t really come help right now. As his belly grew, he’d barely be able to stand long. It’d look ridiculous.
He was just asking ahead of time—after the baby arrived, he’d ask again.
After a while, Lu Liu finished printing and came out with his embroidery basket to stitch the book bindings.
Once these were finished and sold, he’d start making shoes again. Li Feng was going to the county in the next day or two and could deliver the shoes to his brother.
Yao Fulang had nothing to do, so he helped sew the books.
Lu Liu didn’t stand on ceremony and taught him how to do it.
Sewing books was faster than sewing shoes, and with both of them working, they finished before sunset.
As the sun slanted low, Yao Fulang headed home to cook.
Lu Liu packed half a bowl of fried tofu—just six pieces—and sent him off with it to curb his cravings.
It was Yao Fulang’s first time eating fried tofu. He held the bowl and sniffed; it smelled heavenly.
“Honestly, smelling meat and oil like this… that’s when earning money actually feels worth it. Just talking about silver all day feels empty.”
Lu Liu chuckled. “Exactly. I want to save up and buy all sorts of good food.”
Yao Fulang thanked him and left.
Once he sent that portion out, he had to give some to Chen Jiu too.
The same six pieces of fried tofu, but because they were closer, Lu Liu added two meatballs.
Chen Jiu took the bowl, glanced at him a few times. Lu Liu didn’t say much—just smiled and handed it over, then wiped his hands and headed to the kitchen.
He was feeling good today—hadn’t thrown up much and had an appetite—so he went to cook. Otherwise, leaving all the chores to his mother and Shun-ge’er made him feel guilty.
That night he made stir-fried eggs with fresh-cut chives. The chives were new and tender, bright and fragrant.
He cracked an extra egg. When they were done, the dish was yellow and green and vivid enough to brighten the whole gray little house.
He also made eggplant. Lu Liu hated cooking eggplant. Fresh ones were tender, but he could never bring himself to use enough oil. Once he even steamed them first, thinking they’d absorb less later. But the end result was something he didn’t want to look at.
Eggplant was a real challenge. This time it burned a little.
Soft eggplant, plus a scorched pan…
Lu Liu: “…”
He threw up immediately.
To make up for it, he made stir-fried greens with shredded fried tofu and slices of meatball—delicious. Everyone loved it.
Before dinner, he went outside the gate to wait for Li Feng, like always.
But first, Chen Jiu arrived and gave him a bowl of pork hock.
It was a whole piece, sliced neatly, untouched, sitting in rich broth—just looking at it made you drool.
Even though he’d already eaten pork hock three times today, Lu Liu still got hungry again. Embarrassing—but he accepted it with a smile.
“Thank you. It smells amazing. I ruined the eggplant today—this’ll make up for it!”
Chen Jiu didn’t leave. He stood there waiting for Wang Meng, who had gone up the mountain with Li Feng.
Because he didn’t leave, Lu Liu couldn’t take the bowl inside. The two of them stood there guarding a bowl of fragrant pork hock until hunger made Lu Liu mutter, “Stupid men…”
Chen Jiu—never one to miss a chance—turned and tattled the moment he saw the men coming down. “Cousin, your beloved just called you a stupid man.”
Lu Liu: “!”
Li Feng looked at him. Lu Liu blinked and turned to Wang Meng. “Who do you think would say something like that?”
Wang Meng instinctively looked at Chen Jiu.
Chen Jiu kicked him and walked off.
Once they left, Lu Liu let out a sigh of relief. He turned around and saw Li Feng smiling at him in a way that was… not friendly. Like he was about to eat him alive.
Lu Liu immediately apologized. “I was just impatient waiting. I didn’t mean it. I was wrong. I won’t say that again.”
Li Feng counted on his fingers. “Good man, bad man, stupid man… what else? Next time call me something nice?”
Lu Liu knew how to coax him and smiled sweetly. “How about… my man? Next time I’ll call you my man.”
Li Feng softened and called him “my husband.”
Lu Liu added, “Zhuangzhuang’s father.”
Li Feng grinned wider and pulled him inside.
He reached for Lu Liu’s hand; Lu Liu caught his and tried to wash together.
Their palms chased each other in the basin, squeezing and splashing, giggling like fools.
Chen Guizhi said, “Like playing with water? Fine—tomorrow you two can wash the clothes.”
Lu Liu looked up at Li Feng.
Li Feng paused, then said, “It’s fine. I’ll just take everything to the river and beat them clean.”
Lu Liu laughed again.
“My man, Zhuangzhuang’s dad—you really are a good man.”
Li Feng beamed.
The next day, when they washed clothes by the river, the young wives and husbands all laughed at him.
Li Feng just replied, “Your men don’t help with laundry. What’s there for you to laugh about?”
By the end of the day, many men in Li Village were grinding their teeth.
…………………….
Lu Yang put on the new shoes his younger brother made for him, and he was thrilled.
He walked outside wanting to lift his toes right up into people’s faces so everyone could see the design.
The shoes were made with indigo cloth, embroidered with tiny scattered flowers.
The flowers were copied from the pattern on the fabric Lu Yang had given him—mostly white thread, with touches of green for stems and red at the tips of the petals. The whole look was harmonious.
Delicate flowers on dark fabric—steady on the surface, playful underneath.
The strap resembled a curling vine, crossing the top of the foot and fastening near the ankle, ending in a small unopened bud.
It was the prettiest pair of shoes Lu Yang had ever owned. The day he tried them on, he only walked on the heated brick bed, unwilling to step onto the floor.
But shoes were meant to be worn. Keeping them pristine would only waste his brother’s hard work.
