Xie Yan didn’t refuse. The next day, he slept in a bit, then got up, just like before—sticking close to Lu Yang, reading only at the shop, stealing glances when he could, chatting quietly whenever there was a pause.
He drew some pictures for Lu Yang again, and Lu Yang never tired of them.
Xie Yan had even bought him a small gift: a copper mirror, just palm-sized.
He used the pocket money Lu Yang had given him. At the private school, he didn’t have many expenses. Meals were covered, ink and paper were provided, he didn’t go out much, and when he came home, he didn’t need to spend money—so he’d saved up.
He bought the copper mirror, stared into it for a few days to memorize Lu Yang’s features, and then painted them into his drawings.
He really loved sneaking glances at people. Even after putting him in the paintings, he didn’t dare openly stand by Lu Yang and be affectionate. Several sheets showed him peeking from behind doors or walls.
If Lu Yang asked, Xie Yan would reply matter-of-factly, “I’m not sneaking a look. You’re my husband. I can look however I want.”
Lu Yang laughed uncontrollably.
Flipping a few more pages, Xie Yan finally painted him face-on.
The composition was a little odd. Lu Yang stared for a while before realizing Xie Yan had painted a large mirror, showing himself adjusting his clothes and hair in the reflection.
Lu Yang had seen mirrors like that once—during a brief stop at the county school, meant for students there.
In the open sketchbook, the left side showed Xie Yan adjusting himself in front of the mirror. On the right side, the same scene appeared, but the reflection was now Lu Yang’s round, familiar face.
He stared for a while before understanding. Xie Yan explained, assuming he didn’t get it at first: “I saw you when I looked in the mirror before.”
Lu Yang nodded. “I know.”
From left to right, the two drawings captured imagined sight; from right to left, they captured reality. Either way, you could appreciate it.
Looking at the paintings always softened Lu Yang’s heart.
After a moment, he said to Xie Yan, “If I had known you’d miss me this much, I wouldn’t have let you stay away at all.”
“Stay home every day,” he thought.
Xie Yan treated this as a love remark. “Hearing you say that makes all my longing worthwhile.”
Lu Yang closed the sketchbook and carefully set it on the table, then picked up the small copper mirror.
The new mirror was polished smooth. Not quite as clear as a water mirror, but convenient.
He stretched his arm, holding it up, while Xie Yan leaned on his shoulder. In the tiny reflection, there they were—together.
Lu Yang adjusted carefully to make sure Xie Yan was visible.
In the mirror, his scholar always looked at him with a soft smile.
Lu Yang’s heart melted. “A-Yan, it’s so good having you as my husband.”
Xie Yan leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose. “Having you as my husband is the real blessing.”
They crouched on the bench together, looking into the mirror, trying different angles and expressions.
They had never seen themselves together before. The little mirror wasn’t enough—no matter how they adjusted, they couldn’t see enough.
After playing for a while, Lu Yang handed the mirror to Xie Yan.
“Go show it to your mother. She hasn’t seen you with me like this either.”
Xie Yan clasped it in his hands. “We had a copper mirror at home before. Mother saw it back then—but now that I’m older, I can look again.”
He got up and headed to the back yard. At the curtain, he paused, looked back at Lu Yang, smiling brightly, then lifted the curtain and went inside.
Lu Yang patted his own face.
His cheeks were flushed!
Just from smiling—what was the big deal?
Lu Yang hummed to himself and picked up the sketchbook again.
So beautiful.
His older brother wanted a large leather satchel, and Lu Liu immediately took care of it that same day.
Li Feng got a piece of leather from Wang Meng, told him the desired style, and called Shun to help. Once cut, the two of them worked together to sew it.
Like the satchel Lu Liu had carried before, the outside was smooth, hairless leather. This hide had been kept by Li Feng for many years—slightly scratched and pressed, but well-preserved, never torn. The color had darkened, like beeswax.
New leather started out lighter but would darken with use over time.
Recently, Lu Yang had been doing a lot of needlework and often went out for walks to rest. He also visited Yao’s house to play. The two of them chattered endlessly.
Li Feng had plenty of energy these days.
He handled urgent matters immediately at home; if it wasn’t pressing, he waited until evening.
Collecting vegetables or wild mountain delicacies, he wandered the village. If nothing else, he went up the mountain with Wang Meng.
San Miao and Da Qiang spent longer on the mountain—three to five days each trip—trying to poke at bee hives before returning. Li Feng didn’t go with them.
Wang Meng’s shipments were running smoothly, and he had no unsold stock piling up. Even without hunting gains, he brought down some mountain delicacies. Every day there was a coin or two earned, independent of the other two.
The brothers caught snakes, climbed trees, raided bird nests.
At first, Lu Liu wasn’t thrilled—Li Feng had promised to accompany him. Once Li Feng actually joined, he realized Li Feng was busy too, always occupied, and stopped complaining.
In March, there were birthdays.
Lu Sanfeng’s birthday fell on the nineteenth. Being the mother-in-law, Li Feng had to go to the county town.
He didn’t bother with the Chen family once there.
He brought some mountain delicacies—no silver.
At the table, if Old Chen didn’t serve fine wine and dishes, he wouldn’t bother coming again.
As expected, Old Chen asked for firewood. Li Feng was busy and couldn’t deliver carts of wood from far away, so he negotiated—if they accepted, Da Qiang would deliver it with him.
Da Qiang delivered five carts of firewood to Boss Ding every month; a few extra carts for Old Chen’s family were no problem.
Old Chen was furious, his face twisting, and immediately took back the wine.
Seeing this, Li Feng got ready to leave.
Old Chen stopped him to talk, telling him that Lu Yang was adopted, and mentioned a brother.
“This brother runs a shop in town too. Married to a scholar—quite impressive. We went a few times, but they weren’t friendly.”
Li Feng responded casually and asked, “Do you have any tofu products? Bring some along. My husband’s expecting, and he’s craving yours.”
Old Chen froze.
The married younger brother was expecting a child—a situation normally advantageous with the groom. How had it turned into Li Feng treating it as a chance to grab benefits from his maternal family?
Knowing Li Feng would help himself, Old Chen listed the types sparingly, saying, “Old clients have pre-ordered these. Next time, I’ll make more for you.”
Next time, he would visit the village.
Li Feng smiled. “Alright, I’ll make sure to serve fine wine and dishes then.”
He left with five blocks of tofu, a jar of fermented tofu, three pounds of bean-cake, and five pounds of soybean pulp.
Old Chen also had dried tofu sticks. Li Feng didn’t care about the weight—he grabbed a basket and took it all.
On his way back to Lu Yang, he shared half.
Seeing Xie Yan, he raised an eyebrow—all understood without words.
Lu Yang praised him for handling it well.
The next day, Xie Yan also went to Old Chen’s for a meal—ate and took more than Li Feng had.
He wanted Lu Yang’s praise too.
Lu Yang laughed heartily.
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