They ate quickly, then went out to the yard with Father and Mother to bask in the sun. The two dogs lay at their feet, calm and content.
Wang Fengnian’s face was full of smiles, glancing left and right.
With the children home, the house was lively, even if just for half a day—that alone made him happy.
Today he had killed another rooster. Following Lu Yang’s suggestion, he cooked it with chestnuts—a dish everyone loved, leaving a lingering flavor in their mouths.
He also boiled some chestnuts in salted water, like preparing salted peanuts. They weren’t dried yet, but he could snack on them.
Just after finishing his meal, he held a chestnut in his hand, nibbling it slowly, savoring it for a long time.
Lu Yang mentioned that Xie Yan was still in the city, not back yet, and Wang Fengnian asked if he was feeling better.
Lu Yang simply replied that he was fine. Anything else that felt off was just minor ailments from being busy.
Wang Fengnian then asked why Lu Liu had been crying.
Lu Liu explained that Li Feng had promised to let him raise chicks and rabbits.
Wang Fengnian didn’t quite understand, but Lu Yang did. He praised his brother: “He’s quite good—he cares about you.”
Lu Liu knew that and continued, sharing the child’s name with the family.
Jinshan and Wanli—spoken aloud, neither was bad.
Hearing that Li Feng had come up with the names, Lu Yang said, “That hunter brain of his, able to think of such good names?”
Lu Liu defended him: “My Da Feng can already read!”
He also praised Xie Yan: “All thanks to Brother-in-law for teaching him well!”
Lu Yang didn’t even comment on that.
Lu Liu didn’t neglect Zhao Peilan either. He said, “Auntie, the designs you taught me are beautiful. Yesterday I made shoes in the yard, and everyone who saw them liked them. When I visit, can I teach others?”
Zhao Peilan didn’t stop him: “I’m drawing more patterns these days. Next time I see you, I’ll teach you some more.”
Lu Liu was delighted, glancing into the house, asking, “Auntie, can you teach me to make men’s clothes? Da Feng often goes to the city; his cotton jackets always get holes. I’ve patched them, but new ones are bulky, not as neat as store-bought. Can you teach me?”
Since they had free time, Wang Fengnian fetched some old cotton jackets from inside, along with needles, thread, and a piece of fine charcoal, letting Zhao Peilan demonstrate.
He said, “We have a new jacket, but this one needs adjustments. Add padding, make it thick and warm. You can draw patterns on it, but it will need to be taken apart and washed later.”
Zhao Peilan spread a mat on the ground, laid out the jacket, and showed Lu Liu where to tuck, where to fold.
She had previously made cotton jackets for Xie Yan’s father. Scholarly jackets were harder: long outer robes, thin ones too cold, thick ones like wearing a quilt, no grace at all. She had invested much effort, later made jackets for Xie Yan, becoming skilled.
As they taught and learned, Lu Yang chatted with Father, catching up on family matters.
During the last wheat harvest, Li Feng had helped, arranging everything for this year—they just had to follow along.
With the new wheat harvested, whenever they had time, they borrowed a stone mill from Uncle’s house, ground some flour, roasted it, and had Lu Song deliver it with vegetables to sell in town.
This year, the couple didn’t have much free time to gather firewood. Li Feng took care of that—they weren’t short of fuel.
Soybeans had been sown. After harvest, they sold them to save silver.
The pigs still needed fattening before breeding. Now they were plump, and they looked at them as if counting silver.
Village relationships were still new to them and somewhat overwhelming.
“Everyone knows you married well and did good business. Some distant relatives come for weddings and funerals, ask us to attend, and we shake with nervousness when giving money.”
Lu Yang thought of his brother, who counted coins carefully at the temple, also worried. He understood, saying, “It’s okay. You’ll get used to these things. Living in a village is meant to be lively—chatting, visiting. You invite me today, I invite you tomorrow; life won’t be lonely.”
Wang Fengnian took it to heart.
When it was just the two of them at home, it was truly quiet.
They had grown used to silence, thinking speaking was wasting energy.
Now, there was nothing to fear—they could eat full meals, no one bullied them, and a stroll outside was pleasant.
That afternoon, they were set to leave. Lu Yang, seeing it was early, hurried back to town.
Lu Liu did the same, returning to the village.
The lively moment was brief. Their fathers walked them to the main road, one on each side, looking at this, unwilling to part with that, keeping their eyes busy.
Lu Liu shouted, “Go back quickly! Watch the piglets—don’t let anyone steal them!”
Lu Yang laughed as he walked.
By now, anyone daring to steal their piglets? Unlikely.
They would pass Shangxi Village on the way back for wheat collection—Lu Yang wasn’t worried.
At the village, he asked Sha Zhu to accompany them with an iron spade and took his grandmother to pay respects at his grandfather’s grave.
They dug away grass, added soil, fenced the plot, burned paper money, and offered a mooncake.
Sha Zhu squatted nervously, staying silent.
Lu Yang warned, “You watch this place. If anyone dares to mess with the grave, I’ll dig up your family grave.”
Sha Zhu’s eyes widened—why dig up his ancestors’ grave?!
Still, he said nothing, simply nodded.
“I’ll keep watch.”
After finishing, mother and son returned home.
In town, they carried two square lanterns for a walk.
The lanterns depicted couples; those carrying them were also couples.
Lu Yang said, “Mother, a mother-child bond is also love. Don’t be shy; I’ll link arms with you.”
Zhao Peilan cherished this.
She had always thought the best-behaved child was Xie Yan.
Lu Yang wasn’t conventionally obedient, but to her, he was even better than Xie Yan: capable, responsible, and thoughtful, strong-willed but gentle in action.
Zhao Peilan asked, “Are your two brothers celebrating the festival?”
Lu Yang said, “I packed some mooncakes. We’ll check the streets. If we run into them during the Mid-Autumn patrol, I’ll give them mooncakes.”
Zhao Peilan agreed.
The Mid-Autumn lanterns weren’t spectacular, only bright.
On the brightly lit street, she kept an eye out for anyone in official attire, helping Lu Yang find his brothers.
Meanwhile, in Li Village, Lu Liu and Shun Ge’er lit lanterns, playing in the yard before visiting Yao Fu Lang’s house.
Yao Fu Lang treated them to honeycomb.
It was from the first comb in Da Qiang’s hive—fragrant and sweet.
“First comb—I hid it and didn’t give it to anyone. You two can enjoy it.”
Lu Liu happily ate and invited him to play with lanterns.
Yao Fu Lang hadn’t made lanterns in a while. Seeing Shun Ge’er’s moon lantern, it was clearly bought, not handcrafted.
He said, “Your brother and sister-in-law treat you well—I’ve never played with a bought lantern before.”
His family always did bamboo weaving, so he asked Da Qiang to bring one home.
At night, roads were rough. With wives carrying children, they didn’t go out.
Lanterns were simple—just to see the light, shake them, or hold up to admire the design.
Lu Liu had been waiting eagerly. Finally, he could show off, holding up the lantern to display the painted figures.
“This tree is me, this mountain is Da Feng. Look at these people—the short one is me, the tall one is Da Feng. We watch the moon together; he looks at me, I look at him. Isn’t it beautiful?”
Shun Ge’er: “….”
No wonder he hid the lantern inside—he had fallen for it.
