Chapter 32

Lu Liu asked for a whole slab of tofu.

Lu Sanfeng thought he meant to buy it—but no, he wanted it for free.

She blew up immediately, cursing him out on the spot:
“You ungrateful brat! Always siding with outsiders! Don’t you know what kind of situation we’re in at home? You come back and don’t even want to cook one meal. I told you your dad’s been craving your buns, and you won’t even touch the flour. Now you just open your mouth and ask for a whole slab of tofu? What—think you belong to the Li family now? When they kick you out, don’t come crying back to us!”

Lu Liu was genuinely scared of her. She always blew up so fast. Two sentences in, and she was already hurling insults. He’d been yelled at so much, now he only dared to mutter under his breath:
“Well… you haven’t gone back to visit your family either…”

As far as he knew, both of his dads talked about missing his aunt, but she’d never actually come back to Lu Family Village.

He used to think it was just a father missing his sister. But now he understood—it was the two dads who missed the child their sister had taken away.

What Lu Liu didn’t realize was that it’s always the plainest truths that hit the hardest.

And just like that, he made Lu Sanfeng explode all over again.

—

In another room, Old Man Chen invited Li Feng to sit on the heated kang and asked his two sons to keep him company.

Old Man Chen had authority in the house, and when it came to serious matters, the kids usually listened.

And right now, hosting Li Feng was a serious matter.

This was all about securing their future little money pot.

He knew the dowry had been embarrassingly small, and the Li family must have opinions about it.

The fact that they hadn’t come to the door to cause a scene these past few days? That was them saving face.

And if they cared about saving face—then everything was negotiable.

Plus, from what he’d seen, Yang-ge’er and Li Feng were getting along well. That gave him a card to play.

Old Man Chen had been around the block. He knew that during the early honeymoon phase, a man would bend over backwards to please his partner—and if you love the husband, naturally you’d show some favor to the in-laws too. What’s the problem with that? Nothing at all.

He poured a cup of wine for Li Feng. On the small table were a few dishes prepared in advance: some peanuts, and a plate of fried yellow croaker.

As soon as Li Feng picked up his chopsticks, Old Man Chen jumped in:
“I know you’ve got complaints. I really didn’t have a choice. We lost the tofu workshop, and life’s been hard. If I hadn’t been worried about Yang-ge’er getting slighted, I’d never have put on that kind of show.”

All of it, of course, had been “for Lu Yang’s own good.”

Li Feng chuckled.
“For his good, and you couldn’t even give him a decent winter coat?”

Old Man Chen didn’t miss a beat. After a flash of surprise, he slipped right into righteous indignation:
“No way! I did make him new clothes! Ask around—everything, inside and out, brand new! He’s got two full sets of winter coats!”

Li Feng didn’t respond. He just watched him act.

Old Man Chen added quickly, “Maybe his mother forgot in the rush—I’ll ask her in a bit.”

Li Feng wasn’t great at playing polite at the table. He preferred to be direct. He hated all that roundabout talk and veiled digs—it got on his nerves.

So he cut straight to it:
“So, what do you plan to do about it?”

Old Man Chen was caught off guard.
“Well… if we find it, we’ll give it to him to take back, of course.”

He wanted to steer the conversation toward the tofu workshop—maybe get Li Feng to invest a bit more. Paint a rosy picture of a comeback story: once he rebuilt his business, Lu Yang would have something to rely on too. And later, when the couple moved back to the county town, they’d have family support on both sides.

But Li Feng shut that all down with one sharp line:
“No need to find it. The one you’re wearing right now looks pretty good to me.”

Old Man Chen looked down at his own coat.

That padded jacket Old Man Chen was wearing really was a good one—stuffed with fresh cotton. When the family bought cotton, he got first dibs. They made him a new jacket, and then depending on how used the leftover cotton was, it got divvied up between the two sons.

Usually, Lu Sanfeng and Lu Yang didn’t get anything new. They’d just take an old jacket, alter it a bit, and make do. But since they lived in the county and had to maintain appearances, the clothes never got too shabby—so they’d just sell them off for some silver and use that to patch together something new. Of course, the truly new stuff always ended up on Old Man Chen.

That jacket on him had a solid three catties of cotton in it. Wearing it felt like being wrapped in a quilt. Just sitting in the room for a bit was enough to start sweating.

He chuckled and said,
“This one’s mine. How could Yang-ge’er wear it?”

Li Feng didn’t waste time trading words.
“Why couldn’t he?”

He put down his chopsticks, got up, and strode over. Without a word, he grabbed the old man by the collar and started pulling at the coat.

It looked like a beatdown was coming, and it scared Old Man Chen out of his wits.

The two Chen brothers panicked too. They knew Li Feng had a temper, but they didn’t expect him to be this reckless. It was his first day back after the wedding, and he was ready to throw hands with his father-in-law? How was he planning to live with Lu Yang after this?

They rushed over to stop him, one on each side, trying to drag him off.

But Li Feng was a whole head taller and built solid. He planted his legs like a tree trunk—no matter how hard they pulled, he didn’t budge an inch.

Their hands were still gripping his arms, but now it felt like they were just getting dragged along wherever he moved.

Old Man Chen was panicking.
If this guy threw even one punch, he’d be meeting his ancestors before dinner.

“Yang-ge’er! Yang-ge’er! Come quick—your husband’s about to kill your father!”

—

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Lu Liu was still arguing with Lu Sanfeng about the tofu.

He was dead set on taking a whole slab.
“You all tricked him like that, and now you think he’s gonna keep sending things back home? Shouldn’t we at least offer something to show some good faith?”

Lu Sanfeng wasn’t having it. One slab had sixty-four pieces of tofu. No way the Li family could eat all that. Why should she just give it away?

And right then, they heard Old Man Chen’s shout.

Startled, both of them dropped everything and ran.

By the time they got there, the shouting had stopped.

Li Feng had successfully yanked the jacket off of Old Man Chen. He straightened up and gave a twist of his waist, tossing the Chen brothers aside like nothing.

He gave the jacket a good shake, brushed off the dust, smoothed out the wrinkles, hefted the weight in his hands—and looked pretty satisfied.

When Lu Liu arrived, Li Feng casually pulled him over and held the jacket up against him to check the size.

“Perfect. Fits just right.”

He wasn’t being polite at all. The whole Chen family was staring at him like he’d robbed them at knifepoint, but he didn’t care. Like it was the most normal thing in the world, he started helping Lu Liu try it on.

And thick cotton really is something else—the moment it goes on, the warmth sinks in.

Lu Liu was delighted. He didn’t even notice the pitiful state of Old Man Chen, who was still in shock.

There were six people crammed into the little room. In theory, the four Chens could block the way and beat them senseless—if not inside, then at least at the door. A tag-team effort could still wear Li Feng down.

But in practice? They were like frightened chicks. Anyone who tried to block the way got shoved aside or tossed onto the heated kang like furniture.

And Li Feng wasn’t done. One jacket wasn’t enough. He stepped onto the kang, opened the storage chest, and pulled out two more.

One of them had been Lu Liu’s—new, made for him before the wedding, but held back.

The whole Chen family just stood there, mouths hanging open. Anyone who looked ready to yell got a cold, beast-like stare from Li Feng—like he might kill them on the spot. That was enough to make them all flinch and huddle together in a corner, trembling.

Finally, Old Man Chen turned to Lu Liu and said,
“Yang-ge’er, you do this now, you’ll be punished for it later!”

Lu Liu blinked.
Punished? For what? Sure, three jackets wasn’t nothing, but it wasn’t worth divine retribution, was it?

He did some quick math. Cotton was pricey—two qian of silver per jin. These three jackets probably used around six jin total. That was 1.2 taels of silver just for cotton.

They were all made with cotton cloth. Lu Liu had bought some himself recently—he knew the prices. Cotton fabric went from 32 to 60 wen per foot, depending on the color. These three were blue, 32 wen per foot.

Factoring in different sizes, the total cloth probably came to about 6 qian. Add 2 to 3 qian for labor, and altogether, the cost was maybe 2 taels.

The Li family had paid twenty taels in bride price. Even counting the money spent on Lu Liu’s medical care and the Chen family’s wedding display, this was just balancing the scales—making both sides contribute more equally.

Nothing that would bring punishment from the heavens.

Lu Liu ran the numbers and didn’t answer. Instead, he turned and asked,
“Dad, can I bring some tofu home?”

Lu Sanfeng quickly chimed in,
“He wants a whole slab!”

Old Man Chen stared at Lu Liu.

Lu Liu stared back.

Old Man Chen tried using his eyes to intimidate him.

Lu Liu stepped behind Li Feng for cover.

Old Man Chen sighed. He could bend when he needed to. Since the Li family wanted to blow off steam, fine—let’s get it over with in one go. Next time they met, Li Feng would still have to call him “Father-in-law,” and play the son-in-law role.

He said,
“Take it. This one’s on me. Don’t blame your dad, I really didn’t have a choice.”

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