The more Lu Liu listened to them talk about all kinds of food, the more he realized that this mountain really was a treasure trove.
“I want to go up the mountain to make some money too,” Lu Liu said, chewing on pickled radish. “Da Feng, if you took me into the mountains, how far could we go?”
Li Feng had no intention of taking him deep into the mountains. He roughly pointed out a location, only around the mountain entrance, maybe a hundred or two meters in.
Lu Liu thought that was impressive enough—he definitely wanted to go see it someday.
That evening, while practicing literacy, Li Feng also brought a brush to practice calligraphy.
You needed plenty of practice with your hands. Even after learning characters for so long, he still couldn’t write well because he hadn’t practiced enough.
He used to worry about wasting supplies, but recently, while printing books, he discovered that inksticks were actually quite durable. The paper, though, was terrible—burnt-looking, tearing at every sheet.
He prepared a few thin wooden boards and, without ink, just used plain water. He didn’t use the rabbit-hair brush Lu Yang had sent; instead, he used one made in-house.
The brush was rough, but it could write. At this stage, they didn’t care much about fine details.
Lu Liu finished a bit of food, then sat at the table with him to practice writing.
Lu Liu loved writing names the most—his, Da Feng’s, Zhuang Zhuang’s, and his brother’s.
Once done with those, he would think of more names and write them one by one. When he came across characters he didn’t know, he’d ask Li Feng, “Da Feng, have we learned this character?”
If Li Feng remembered, he’d teach him. If not, the couple would flip through books together.
For characters they hadn’t learned, they’d make a note and ask either Old Tongsheng or, later, their brother-in-law in the county.
Starting with common words, then exaggerations, rhymes, and lists of goods, followed by names to fill gaps—their literacy grew remarkably.
Practicing by hand, they would eventually be able to fool Zhuang Zhuang.
Previously, they only practiced writing occasionally, using sticks or twigs to scratch marks on the ground.
Lu Liu had specifically practiced for bookkeeping before. At the time, he was anxious and didn’t enjoy it.
Tonight, the couple sat quietly, writing character by character. After writing names, they moved on to inventory sheets. Seeing silver listed on them made them even more eager to write.
They also practiced accounts—how much for a pound of mushrooms, or a hundred pounds.
They knew the numbers well. Lu Liu, who kept the books, was faster. Li Feng, who used them less often, had to think a bit before writing.
Before they realized it, they had burned through a lot of lamp oil.
By the time their hands ached, shoulders stiffened, and eyes were sore, they realized quite a lot of time had passed.
They exchanged a glance and laughed.
It was the first time they hadn’t felt sleepy while learning—immersed in it, they actually enjoyed themselves.
When tired, they’d sleep, tidy up their things, massage each other’s arms and shoulders, and then go to bed.
The next day was another day of work.
Chen Guizhi went out to get dried hawthorn for Lu Liu, leaving him unaccustomed to the emptiness in the courtyard.
He fed the chickens and rabbits in the morning and also took care of the mule and Er Huang.
Li Feng, free from backyard chores, invited Da Qiang to explore the mountains with him.
The festival was over—they had to earn money again.
Da Qiang agreed immediately. With Yao An’s belly growing day by day, the weight of the family pressed on him; he couldn’t sit still.
With the two of them gone, Lu Liu had to watch the shop and couldn’t leave. Yao Fulang came over to chat.
This made him realize how quiet the house really was.
Li Feng and Brother Shun had gone to the mountains, Chen Guizhi went out for a walk—only four people were left at home, with Lu Liu alone.
Just after the Dragon Boat Festival, business at the shop was slow.
Several consecutive sunny days meant fewer mushrooms. With no money to buy other mountain goods, there were fewer visitors.
Yao Fulang glanced around, suddenly feeling awkward. He told Lu Liu, “Running a shop isn’t all good—it wears you out the same as other work.”
Other chores allowed freedom—you could go wherever you wanted.
With a shop, you were rooted in place—you couldn’t go here or there freely.
Lu Liu didn’t mind; he had just been to the reed marshes a few days ago.
He said, “We have family. We look out for each other. Mother’s been busy collecting mushrooms and running around the yard these past months. Today’s trip out wasn’t just for fun—I was craving it, and she went to get dried hawthorn for me.”
Yao Fulang, who also had some, asked, “Why didn’t you ask me?”
Lu Liu grinned mischievously, “You want some too! We’re all craving it now, so I won’t eat yours.”
Yao Fulang noticed how sweet Lu Liu’s words had become. “How much candy has Da Feng fed you?”
Lu Liu shook his head earnestly, like a little scholar: “Candy alone isn’t enough.”
He wanted to teach a bit of business sense. Lately, he’d been observing people, listening to how others spoke. He learned selectively, and it really worked.
Yao Fulang teased him, embarrassed, “Candy isn’t enough—then what is enough?”
They played along well and spoke freely. By the time Lu Liu understood without asking everything, he blushed, telling him not to say such things.
“The kids might hear.”
Yao Fulang scoffed, “Do you think they could hear that?”
Lu Liu didn’t know either and told Yao Fulang about how they tricked Zhuang Zhuang into learning:
“When he’s born, we’ll read to him too.”
Yao Fulang: “…”
It sounded unreliable.
Lu Liu continued, “You have to start teaching kids early.”
Yao Fulang’s expression turned cold. “If it’s too late, he’ll learn on his own.”
Lu Liu choked, opening his mouth but saying nothing.
He looked at his belly, feeling as if the sky had fallen.
That night, Li Feng returned and noticed Lu Liu was listless. He asked him several times but couldn’t get an answer.
Chen Guizhi made him some hawthorn tea; Lu Liu smiled and thanked her, though he wasn’t as lively as before.
Brother Shun saw this and brought him some mulberries. Lu Liu ate a few bites, and his craving for food faded.
The whole family felt strangely unsettled, so Li Feng went to comfort him.
When Li Liu got into bed, he was ready to sleep, but when he couldn’t, he stared blankly, not even picking up the flashcards he usually reviewed each night.
Li Feng touched his forehead—no fever.
“What’s wrong? Do you feel unwell?”
Lu Liu didn’t feel unwell. He just realized that without the goal of tricking Zhuang Zhuang into learning, something purposeful was missing, and he felt lost.
He said, “When Zhuang Zhuang is born, he’ll learn on his own. We don’t need to rush him.”
Li Feng coaxed him, “No matter what, you can learn characters now—you can keep accounts and manage money. Isn’t that what you like?”
Lu Liu nodded. “Right. Then I don’t have to stay up late by lamplight—I can learn anytime.”
Li Feng asked why. After hearing the explanation, he fell silent for a while.
Earlier, when he went to the county, he heard that Xie Yan had scolded several scholars so harshly they could no longer write good essays. He hadn’t believed it. What harm could a few words of criticism do?
But it turned out his little husband was even more sensitive—one sentence, and his enthusiasm vanished completely.
Li Feng guided him further, “Your brother even gave you writing supplies—aren’t you eager to learn characters?”
Lu Liu thought about it but didn’t move.
Li Feng decided it was time for a stronger push.
He said, “We’ve grown up barely knowing any characters. How do you expect Zhuang Zhuang to just know them on his own?”
Lu Liu: “!!”
The thought of not knowing characters immediately sparked energy in him.
“Yes, yes, yes—we can’t learn randomly. We need to study now. If we don’t, how will we learn?”
Whether this motivation would fool Zhuang Zhuang didn’t matter anymore.
He had learned—and could teach Zhuang Zhuang in the future!
Li Feng asked, “Do you want to practice writing or reading tonight?”
Reading—meaning studying characters.
Learning was boring, so they found ways to make it fun. They stacked flashcards on the table and took turns drawing one to read aloud.
