This time, he kneaded the dough and prepared the filling, following the braised pork recipe his brother had taught him.
First, he steamed four longevity buns, then made some small braised pork buns. With the remaining dough, he made little braised pork patties.
Li Feng wanted a cold dish, so Lu Liu soaked some wood ear mushrooms and dried tofu sticks, softened and cooked them, then dressed them with sauce and poured hot oil over, stirring it all together.
Gradually, he became a little expert, generous with oil and seasoning.
Breakfast was the longevity noodles. Lunch consisted of the buns, braised pork patties, some cold dishes, and a few home-style dishes.
For dinner, there were the small braised pork buns, followed by a pot of mixed mushroom soup served with rice.
That day, Li Feng ate to his heart’s content. In the evening, just as he was thinking of indulging in his little husband again, they heard Wang Meng calling at the gate:
“Da Feng! Da Feng, are you there?”
Lu Liu’s robe was open, and mid-meal, he heard the shout. His eyes widened, still dazed, and he mumbled, “Why is someone at the window?”
Li Feng leaned down and kissed him twice. “He’s probably at the yard gate. Wait a moment.”
Lu Liu nodded, wrapping himself quickly, pretending to wait but clearly moving fast.
Li Feng tugged at him, lightly biting at the edges of his robe before getting off the kang.
Lu Liu wrapped up again and asked, “Is Wang Meng here to wish you a happy birthday?”
Li Feng didn’t know.
“Probably not—I didn’t set up any feast.”
Between brothers, there was no need for pretense. If there was a reason to drink, they just had a drink. Their usual opportunities to drink were plenty; one more didn’t matter.
Li Feng lit some candles, brightening the house, and opened the front and yard gates, inviting Wang Meng inside to talk.
Wang Meng didn’t come in—he didn’t even enter the yard, instead squatting outside on an open patch.
He carried a lantern, and squatting close to it, his dark face was clearly illuminated.
Li Feng glanced toward the back mountain path. “Did your brother-in-law kick you out?”
Wang Meng shook his head. “No, I’m here to buy a book from you.”
Li Feng sold chicken-rearing books there. Hearing this, he went back inside to fetch one.
Wang Meng, familiar with the price, casually flipped through it and handed Li Feng two qian of silver.
With payment settled, he still didn’t leave.
Li Feng called him over to the little shop for a drink. “Come on, no one’s around at this hour.”
Wang Meng glanced at the yard and agreed.
The shop was locked; Li Feng opened it with a key.
Inside, two square tables were joined to form a long table. Wang Meng chose a bench and sat. Though he had been there before, it was always crowded with other couples; this was his first time sitting. He looked around left and right.
Li Feng went behind the counter, brought over two jins of wine, and grabbed two plates of peanuts.
The peanuts were unshelled—they cracked them open themselves while drinking.
Each had a bowl of wine. They sipped half to wet their throats, cracked peanuts, ate, and chatted.
Wang Meng said, “Lately, I don’t know what’s wrong, he’s getting hotter-tempered each day, talking to me constantly about fields, seeds, and the baby. Three or four lines and it’s always ‘I need you.’ He’s making me flare up.”
And yet here he was, buying a book.
Li Feng, hearing this, wasn’t worried. “Is that all? Such a small thing to get worked up over?”
Wang Meng huffed. “Small? What else? I’ve been told off all the time—what more do you want?”
Li Feng explained the full planting method, then asked Wang Meng, “See? Doesn’t this make sense?”
Wang Meng: ??
“So that’s my fault?”
Li Feng chuckled, pouring another bowl of wine.
“Saying you’re not working hard enough doesn’t mean you’re at fault.”
Wang Meng looked even more aggrieved, about to protest, when Big Qiang’s voice came from outside, calling at the gate.
Li Feng exchanged a glance with him, both unsure what Big Qiang wanted.
They called him into the shop, offered a drink, and asked why he came. Big Qiang gulped down a bowl, his voice full of grievance: “My little Yuan Yuan wants to hear what you two are talking about.”
Neither Li Feng nor Wang Meng knew who Yuan Yuan was.
“Who?”
Big Qiang’s grievance toward Li Feng was particularly sharp. “Yuan Yuan, my unborn child, in An Ge’er’s belly. He saw Wang Meng carrying a lantern past my gate and insisted I come hear what’s going on—otherwise, he won’t sleep.”
Li Feng: …
Big Qiang clinked bowls with him forcibly. “Da Feng, tell me, what’s going on here?”
Li Feng handed the topic to Wang Meng. “Da Meng, tell me, what’s going on?”
Wang Meng: …
Li Feng was the strong father of Zhuang, Big Qiang the father of Yuan Yuan; he was just a poor, lazy man.
Wang Meng suddenly missed San Miao. “San Miao isn’t anyone’s dad, right?”
Li Feng laughed. “San Miao is about to be a grandfather.”
San Miao’s dog-girl was about to give birth.
Wang Meng’s dog was still single.
He looked at Big Qiang. “Hey, let’s be in-laws.”
Big Qiang refused.
“When our husbands meet, they’ll fight. You want to tie the dogs together as in-laws? You have nerve. From now on, your husband can’t yell at my little flower!”
Wang Meng, annoyed, said, “What’s your problem? Why do you always bring up my husband? Did I offend you?”
Big Qiang retorted, “I wanted to ask the same—didn’t I mention my husband? What did I say wrong? You’re mad at me for telling the truth! Why don’t you ask your husband what good he’s done!”
Their voices rose.
Inside, Lu Liu, lying on the kang waiting for his man, perked his ears. Curious, he got dressed and quietly followed to listen.
Outside the gate, two lanterns shone.
Lu Liu: ?
He looked toward the shop, then back at the yard.
Outside, a lantern was held high, revealing Yao’s face.
Late at night, shining light on a face—it was a bit frightening.
Yao passed the lantern to the side, illuminating Chen Jiu’s face as well.
Lu Liu: …
So lively.
Inside the shop sat three hunters, hyper-aware.
The three little husbands were curious but dared only to watch from afar, unwilling to approach.
Their hunter husbands had often boasted of hearing the slightest sound and locating its source. Whether true or not, the three dared not move. When the voices inside grew loud, they crept forward; when quiet, they froze, holding their breath.
After a while, they reached outside the shop, huddled by the wall.
Yao’s pregnant belly made squatting hard, so he sat on the ground.
Through the door’s light, the three gestured silently, trying to communicate but failing to understand each other.
Yao’s face was lively, full of expression, pointing at the men inside, wishing he could shout at Lu Liu: “Chen Jiu kicked the man out!”
Too bad Lu Liu couldn’t understand.
Inside, the two men’s quarrel transformed into a “husband boasting” session.
Wang Meng: “My husband scolds others but not me. He treats me so well!”
Big Qiang: “My husband runs everywhere for me, remembers if there’s food at home—he cares about me!”
Li Feng: “Do I even need to mention my husband? You two can’t win.”
…
Outside, the three little husbands formed separate factions. Yao stopped gesturing at Lu Liu, leaving him crouched alone, looking back at Chen Jiu.
Chen Jiu: …
Chen Jiu muttered, “You two are hopeless! Why did we marry? To have men take care of us!”
