Xie Yan’s heart skipped a beat. Strange—he hadn’t said anything flirtatious or romantic, yet his chest thumped so fast he could feel it.
Late at night, Lu Yang sat a while longer. His arms and shoulders felt comfortable again, so he got up and went back to their room with Xie Yan.
Xie Yan suddenly became clingy, wrapping himself tightly around Lu Yang, giving a little push here and there, letting out soft hums and sighs.
Lu Yang yawned. “Why are you being so clingy in the middle of the night? Are you trying to become top scholar or something?”
Xie Yan hummed again. “No, I just really like you.”
Lu Yang touched his ear. “Of course you like me. Why only cling to me now?”
Xie Yan thought for a moment, then said, “Everyone says I’m a bookworm, that being with me is boring. You also call me a dummy sometimes—I worried talking with me would feel dull. Ever since I started school last year, I met Elder Cui and gained a lot of thoughts and questions in my studies. I often tell you, whether you understand or not, I can talk to you. Last night, I told you I was joining the debate. Tonight, you wrote an article, too. I feel like we’re doing the same thing, you’re with me… I don’t know how to say it, but my heart keeps racing.”
Lu Yang didn’t tease him about feelings. He smiled warmly. “How could I ever find it boring? I love talking with you. You make me happy.”
He added, “We’re a couple. Whatever we do, we support each other. You don’t understand something, I teach you. I don’t understand something, you teach me. Don’t say you’re a dummy while I’m clever—people only have one brain, mistakes happen. We complement each other. Don’t overthink it. We sleep together anyway. Who could ever separate us?”
Xie Yan felt his heart settle.
Once he felt secure, he yawned, then nuzzled against Lu Yang, saying, “Jingzhi, you’re so sweet.”
Lu Yang opened his mouth, speechless for a moment, then, in the dark, mimicked Xie Yan’s soft, hum-like tone, letting out a string of gentle hums that made Xie Yan laugh.
Laughter was enough.
Lu Yang ignored the racing heart of his little scholar; he closed his eyes and slept.
The next day, he sent Xie Yan to school, then went with Shun Ge to the pawnbroker to look at a house.
House hunting was a slow process—you had to think long-term. Lu Yang took it easy; he was willing to rent, but there was no rush. The broker, anxious, sat with him at a table, calculating with an abacus, and agreed to Lu Yang’s price: sixteen taels of silver a year for the pseudo two-room house with a moon gate. But Lu Yang had to put down a deposit on that house and the adjacent one.
People were still living in the house. They drafted a contract: if the house wasn’t rented by the end of the year, the deposit would be returned. Once settled, they could move in.
Lu Yang was excited, personally overseeing every bit of cleaning and preparation.
This was their new home—more like a real home than a shared rental.
The rooms were large and elegant. He could hang his portraits and put up the two door-god paintings.
The sketchbooks he had saved could fit neatly on a shelf, easy to access. He could also bind Xie Yan’s essays into volumes, keeping track of his thought process—his own path of growth.
Of course, his collection was small, so he didn’t need much space. Most of the shelves were for Xie Yan.
Books from home were few; Xie Yan would gradually fill the shelves.
While organizing, Lu Yang found a copybook—Elder Cui’s handwriting, famous among scholars in the capital for practicing calligraphy.
After a moment’s thought, Lu Yang placed it on the desk.
It took three days to organize the house. Two shelves still needed to be custom-made, and the barn had been built. On moving day, Xie Yan eagerly brought a stack of scrap paper, intending to paste it on the walls with Lu Yang. Entering the room, he found there was nowhere to paste it—his world collapsed!
Lu Yang smiled helplessly. “You wanted to live in a dirt house forever?”
Xie Yan no longer felt disappointed. Looking at this room, it seemed perfect.
The shelves weren’t ready, and the bedroom and tea room weren’t impressive yet. Lu Yang took him to the inner room. Passing through the moon gate, they saw the study.
He liked this study a lot. Xie Yan entered, eyes wide with delight.
“It’s so bright! The desk is huge!”
He saw books on the desk and flipped through them, stopping at the copybook. “Jingzhi, what’s this? I don’t have to practice writing?”
Lu Yang explained its origin: “It’s said to be praised by the emperor. Many examinees copy it.”
Xie Yan flipped carefully, then asked a simple, naive question:
“Jingzhi, can this copybook be sold for money?”
Lu Yang nodded. “Yes. So many people want it—it would sell well.”
Xie Yan pouted. “Why can’t the emperor just praise my writing for no reason? Then I could make money too. Selling copybooks is way faster than writing books!”
Lu Yang laughed. “Then you need to become top scholar first.”
Xie Yan put down the copybook.
The debate had sharpened his mind and quickened his reactions.
He told Lu Yang, “I can be your little top scholar in your room first.”
Lu Yang was momentarily caught off guard by the playful teasing. He blinked, then kissed Xie Yan.
“No need to pick a date—tonight we start. I’ve heard this place gathers scholarly energy. I want to try.”
Xie Yan had come as agreed.
A new day began. The little ones woke early. When the couple opened their eyes, the children had been awake for some time, staring at the ceiling with curious expressions, letting out pure, baby-like laughter.
They weren’t afraid of Li Feng. A little teasing from him worked better than ten silly faces from Lu Liu.
Li Feng explained that his large face and pronounced features made expressions more noticeable.
Lu Liu didn’t mind. Seeing Li Feng’s size next to the tiny children, he smiled again.
The morning was busy. Lu Liu fed the children a small meal first; when the wet nurse arrived, they had a proper breakfast. Then Lu Liu could work in the kitchen.
He rendered lard and prepped pig ears. Li Feng wanted a quick stir-fry. Spare ribs had been chopped and blanched—he gave a few pieces to Er Huang and Wei Feng, reserved half for soup, and cooked the rest.
Cleaning pig stomachs was hard—they had to go to the river. After feeding the dogs and livestock, Li Feng took the pig stomachs to the river.
Now, going out to wash things was nothing unusual—villagers were used to it, secretly envious.
Wang Meng was there too. The brothers ran into each other at the river and chatted briefly.
Li Feng said, “Both of the San Miao couple are about to crack under the pressure. The workshop can’t wait long. What do you think?”
The brothers worked together. Li Feng leaned toward fairness; overall, it was equitable.
The shop and workshop belonged to the business, not an individual. Visiting the county or managing the workshop seemed respectable but lacked freedom. Wages were fixed; only with free time, climbing the hills, or trips to the prefecture could they earn more. The rest was profit sharing.
Er Jun and Si Hou stayed in the village. The drying fields didn’t keep them occupied, so they could gather herbs, forage mushrooms, hunt, and even go to the prefecture occasionally. Busy days meant more silver. They rotated duties when tired.
According to Wang Meng, Chen Jiu could handle the county trip. His husband always wanted to go; he couldn’t hold him back and still had to provide for the family.
He said, “Two people are enough to watch the drying fields. There are people from the village leader’s household, too. Or ask Er Jun and Si Hou who wants to go. Later, Jiu Ge will also go; someone will accompany him. When we return to the county, we can help with heavy work—it’ll be manageable.”
Li Feng suggested, “Go home and discuss—it’s not your decision alone.”
Wang Meng scoffed. “Who says? At my house, what I say goes.”
Li Feng didn’t argue.
Wang Meng added, “He just wants to go to the county. If he can, great. I wander around in front of him every day; if he doesn’t like it, I still have to go.”
Li Feng said, “Pregnant people have fluctuating emotions. My husband thought too much back then, cried easily. Jiu Ge is petty; this matter can wait until after the baby. Don’t make him sick with anger. I think you should send someone first. The weather is warm, it’s not cold outside. You can transport goods to the workshop, leave someone to watch, and just make one trip a day. He’ll be home morning and evening; with his labor about to start, keep him at home.”
