Boss Ding laughed as he spoke. “Ah, I thought I’d seen through life in my first thirty years, but after my son was born, I couldn’t anymore. Now I’m in a rush to get him educated. You know, a person shouldn’t think too much. Since he started studying, my carefree days are gone. Hopes of a son becoming a dragon—what a beautiful dream! Exhausting to the point of death!”
Lu Yang chuckled. “Well, you just let him run a bit. If your little nephew passes the imperial examination and becomes a xiucai, it will change everything at home. You already have a family business; if he earns a degree, and later continues to study or raises scholarly descendants, your household could truly rise in status.”
Boss Ding had exactly that in mind. “To be honest, I wouldn’t dare dream of even a xiucai. Eight generations of my ancestors never produced a scholar. As for me, I only studied for a few days—couldn’t absorb it at all. So we’ll just learn slowly. If he loses interest, he can work at the distillery, doing manual labor. Once skilled, he can manage the distillery. Then he can come to the shop to learn how to run it. That way, this generation won’t worry about food or drink.”
Life had endless paths; no need to be fixated on just one.
Lu Yang cupped his hands in respect. “You’re very open-minded, old sir.”
Boss Ding laughed heartily. “Not as much as you.”
They joked and laughed their way to Lu Family Village.
Lu Yang hadn’t returned home in a while, so he went to see his two fathers first.
As it was his biological father, he introduced him to Boss Ding and invited him to have tea.
While the assistants busied themselves with grain collection, the two fathers were delighted to see him bring the big boss along. They wanted to support his business by selling a few sacks of wheat, but Lu Yang told them to keep it.
“There’s not much at home anyway—keep it. Boss Ding is buying plenty, and what we have isn’t enough to matter.”
Lu Yang had called Boss Ding “old brother,” which prompted Boss Ding to want to call Lu Erbao and Wang Fengnian “uncle.” The two weren’t used to such formalities from a big boss. Boss Ding cupped his hands in return, and the two young men cupped back over ten times in succession, leaving Boss Ding bewildered.
In the end, being seasoned in business, he didn’t care anymore. Not reacting made Lu Erbao and Wang Fengnian more at ease.
Soon, people from the elder uncle’s household arrived—Uncle Aqing brought along Big Song.
Perfect timing: Lu Yang brought a bundle of scrap fabric for the yet-to-be-born grandson of the elder uncle, to make a “hundred families’ garment.”
Peasant families had very few clothes, and making a “hundred families’ garment” was difficult; borrowing scraps from others often annoyed people.
Those with a little more could go to a tailor to buy scraps by weight—unselective, often dull and gray.
Lu Yang had chosen the best in the shop: bright colors, soft texture. There were even larger scraps leftover from his own home sewing. With some skill, two pieces could be pieced together to make a tiny outfit.
Miao Qing took the fabric, unsure what to say.
Their familiarity with Lu Yang came from practical interests. Over time, trust had developed.
Lu Yang always remembered them. They weren’t stone-hearted; in turn, they also remembered him.
He returned this time bringing good things, even remembering his pregnant daughter-in-law. Miao Qing’s eyes were a little red. “You really care too much—why go out of your way for this?”
Lu Yang smiled. “This is nothing. A new life coming! Once the child is born, I’ll come for a celebratory feast.”
Miao Qing hurried to say, “Of course! Once the child is born, I’ll have Erbai send word to you in the county!”
After a bit of small talk, they discussed grain collection.
Their family had only sixteen mu of land, like Zhang Tie’s, so they sold just a thousand jin.
The rest was up to other relatives. Lu Yang didn’t interfere—he let Boss Ding decide which grain to buy.
The wheat had just been dried, and with enough hands and carts, it could be transported to the county in one go.
They didn’t bother with Chenjiawan or Lizhai.
Lu Yang had no acquaintances in Chenjiawan, so there was no need to pay special attention. Lizhai was too far; a trip there would be exhausting. Besides, Lizhai’s livelihood meant the grain in the fields was only extra—no need to rush.
At home for lunch, the two fathers had slaughtered a rooster but didn’t have time for a soup, so Lu Yang made a quick stir-fried chicken dish to complement it.
Miao Qing had Lu Bai bring over some vegetables and sent half a grass carp. The fish was large; they couldn’t eat it all. They gave Lu Yang the head portion with belly and thick meat. They could stew a fish-head soup and use the rest in pieces, marinated and pan-fried.
They also stir-fried two seasonal vegetables and steamed an egg.
It was a proper peasant meal, and Boss Ding made do and enjoyed it thoroughly.
Being in the wine business, Boss Ding hadn’t brought wine today. When the grain was returned to the county in the afternoon, he would have the villagers bring two jars of good wine back—one for Lu Erbao, one for Lu Dahe—to thank them for their hospitality.
Lu Yang didn’t yet know about this. After a busy day, neglecting his younger brother, he returned to the city without stopping by the shop and went straight home.
Lu Liu didn’t go out today; he stayed home.
He and Zhao Peilan felt a little awkward together, but fortunately, both wanted to get along. Holding their embroidery baskets, they could sit together, chatting quietly for a long while.
Lu Liu’s needlework was quite good—tight, precise, and technically solid. He only knew a few embroidery patterns. His split-thread technique was decent, a skill he had practiced while mending clothes to save thread. Embroidery didn’t require thick threads; splitting and counting the strands was crucial.
Zhao Peilan hadn’t done heavy work before but was skilled in mending and embroidery. Lu Liu wanted to learn, so she taught him.
He wanted to embroider plum blossoms, which bloom in winter. Small and red, he had seen them in New Year paintings and found them beautiful. He was making winter boots for his brother, perfect for plum blossoms.
Zhao Peilan took paper and brush to draw the pattern.
She had learned drawing before calligraphy. As a young embroiderer, she would first sketch a rough pattern to guide the stitches.
Many skilled embroiderers could work without a pattern, but she hadn’t trained that way.
Lu Liu compared her sketch to his hands and liked it very much.
The paper was soft; once the ink dried, it could be placed on the shoe surface to guide stitching.
She explained to him: “Usually you draw according to the shoe pattern. As a beginner, you can sketch different designs, place them on the shoe to see how they look. The more you practice, the faster you get familiar. Eventually, you can use charcoal to mark directly on the shoe.”
Lu Liu knew the charcoal marks were used to guide stitching. Every foot differed in length and height, so comparing and marking ensured a better fit.
When he had made embroidered cloth shoes before, Miao Xiaohe taught him the same method: mark approximate positions with charcoal, then embroider within those boundaries. The result looked very nice.
Once the pattern and placement were set, Zhao Peilan explained the plum blossom motif in detail.
In paintings, often only a single plum branch was shown—its dark brown branch contrasted with the red flowers, sometimes snow pressing down on them.
For shoes and clothing, the branch was softened into a light, continuous stem with blossoms dotted along. Skilled embroidery could include flowers in full bloom and buds.
Lu Liu first stitched the continuous branch, selecting threads and splitting strands under Zhao Peilan’s guidance. He also used threads of the same color to define the flower edges. The general shape was set.
Lu Liu worried the thread was too fine and light, but once the stitching was done, holding the shoe at a distance, the branch pattern was clear.
Once the red blossoms were added, they highlighted the branch color. At first glance, the flowers stood out; upon closer look, the branch appeared. The shoe surface now featured a single plum branch in bloom.
It was stunning. He knew his brother would love it.
When it was nearly the proper hour, he stood up to stretch and rub his back, preparing to make dinner.
Weimeng lay sprawled at his feet, fast asleep. When Lu Liu got up, the little dog rolled once, shook its head, and dozed again.
Summer lethargy and autumn fatigue combined; even the dog couldn’t resist.
Lu Liu watched it for a while before heading to the kitchen to cook rice.
Zhao Peilan certainly wouldn’t let him do the heavy work; he was a guest, and she was pregnant.
So he offered to help with small tasks instead.
By August, the autumn heatwave had arrived.
