Wang Fengnian made brown sugar eggs for Lu Yang.
Just as Lu Yang lifted the bowl, Lu Liu wandered over and insisted on having some too.
Wang Fengnian put down what he was doing and went to the kitchen to make another bowl.
When he came back, the two brothers each took a scoop and finished the first bowl.
Lu Yang no longer wanted any, and Lu Liu smiled, saying he was full as well.
It was such good food—made but not eaten—it felt like a waste. Wang Fengnian felt a pang of heartache!
Lu Yang encouraged him, “Dad, try it. Your cooking is excellent—the brown sugar eggs taste wonderful.”
Lu Liu’s culinary skills came from his father’s teaching. The father and son had carefully experimented over the years: the fish soup was excellent, and all the household dishes were just right. They knew the exact amounts of oil and salt needed.
Now, Lu Liu had become the little ladle, while Wang Fengnian maintained his ten-year-old habit of frugality. Even with abundant meals at home, the oil and salt were always just right.
When offered brown sugar eggs, he couldn’t bear to eat the whole portion. He went back to his room for a bowl, split it in half, and shared it with Lu Erbao. The two children watched with delighted smiles, making him awkward, and every time he tried to speak, he ended up saying nothing but “Ah!”
Lu Yang and Lu Liu echoed, “Ah! Ah!”
Lu Erbao hadn’t noticed their expressions at first, but upon hearing the sounds, he looked up and immediately felt embarrassed too.
The brothers just kept laughing—the more they tried not to laugh, the louder they did.
The three families lived nearby. As the brothers played, the two little ones couldn’t sit still. Following the noise, they ran over, squealing, and pulled the brothers into their games.
The children were growing but still had the same cheerful temper. Upon meeting, they would call “Dad!” Even though each had an assigned “Dad,” they called both at once—first Lu Liu, then Lu Yang.
The kids were too young to worry; whatever they called them, the adults let it pass.
Li Feng and Hai Youtian went out to inspect several shops, moving from near to far, visiting four in total.
Li Feng favored a grocery store slightly off the main street, adjacent to a residential area. Business along this street was modest. With nearby residents, each shop could make a living, but making a big profit was unlikely. Among the shops they visited, two had similar conditions, but the grocery was larger and suited Lu Yang’s needs.
The shop hadn’t closed yet, and the lease ran until early November, with no renewal.
Hai Youtian greeted the staff, and after looking around both inside and out, they returned to the grocery store for a closer inspection.
The shop had a large storefront, enough to place two tables and seat sixteen people.
The owner was clearing inventory and wouldn’t restock. The shelves were handmade; he had sold two racks, which made the shop feel even bigger.
Li Feng examined the shelves. They could even be repurposed as bookcases. He pushed on one—it was sturdy.
The owner explained that good-quality wood was used by an experienced carpenter, and the shelves were only two years old. They hadn’t held heavy goods, so everything remained in good condition.
This owner was subleasing. If it were his own shop, Li Feng could negotiate a package price.
The walls were old and marked. The previous tenant sold soy sauce and condiments, leaving deep stains on the walls. They looked messy, so the walls were scraped down, leaving a rough, uneven finish.
Li Feng had visited Xie Yan’s home and seen study rooms elsewhere. Comparing the usual bookcase size, he paced the shop and figured it could fit five to eight bookcases.
He heard Lu Yang wanted a reading space. The more bookcases, the more books could be displayed. Most study rooms he’d seen could fit three walls of shelves at best. Here, they could create a semi-open small library.
The counter would go in the center, with bookshelves on one side and tables and chairs on the other.
After viewing the front, they checked the backyard.
It was messy, with various items piled up, requiring careful steps to navigate. Li Feng inspected the yard and the rooms. Since the lease hadn’t expired, he was polite in his inspection.
Hai Youtian was attentive and immediately offered, “Would you like some honey water? Boss Li bought honey for you to taste!”
Honey was precious, so the owner quickly agreed and had his wife bring teapots and bowls.
The honey had been bought by Li Feng during his shopping trip, following Lu Liu’s advice to get several varieties.
Hai Youtian explained it thoroughly: “Boss Li bought several kinds. You can try each one!”
Four jars were brought out. Each needed a scoop for tasting.
The whole family smiled, and the owner enthusiastically cleared the way so Li Feng could inspect thoroughly, pointing out pros and cons of the property.
“When we first opened our shop, we didn’t have much silver. We chose this place because the rent was cheap and the space large. A family could live here and run the shop. The front could earn a living, but it’s remote. Don’t assume proximity to the academy makes it profitable—few customers pass by. My wife went out every day, making connections so neighbors knew our shop existed. Ask Hai Yazi—this is the challenge! Nearby tenants change like flowing water. People familiar yesterday are gone today. I want to do business with them, but they try to sell me junk they couldn’t pawn. How could I accept it?”
The owner had run the shop for over two years, venting accumulated frustration.
Hai Youtian was annoyed—listening further might affect the price. He prepared the honey water and said to Li Feng, “Don’t mind his complaints. Your shop will cater to scholars and book buyers. Tenant turnover doesn’t matter. If the Luming Academy stands, your business will thrive. Also, there are small private schools nearby. I’ve heard others opened academies for young boys and girls—they’ll always need books!”
Li Feng perked up. “There are such schools?”
He intended to enroll Xiao Mai there.
Hai Youtian sighed inwardly—talking to him was exhausting.
They continued inspecting the rooms.
The backyard had four rooms—two small, two large.
The two narrow rooms connected to the shop were long. They were originally designed to make the shop appear larger.
Now, one housed two children, the other the couple. Past the small courtyard in the middle was the kitchen. The kitchen was large, with firewood stacked inside. Next to it was a big room for the owner’s father, filled with miscellaneous items—part storage, part residence.
The shop’s stock was almost cleared; the warehouse looked empty. If it were a real business day, customers would have nowhere to sit—it was mainly for sleeping.
Li Feng circled three times, mentally planning. The backyard could be functional.
The long rooms could be used for reading; the large room could be partitioned into a tea room or a separate small study. After partitioning, the other half could remain for living. Someone would need to stay to watch the shop. The kitchen remained but could be cleaned up. They’d need to discuss with the tea house—scholars wanting tea or snacks could order from there.
Previously, Li Feng had visited Hong Laowu, who lived nearby in a modest house, decorated well inside. Small mats hung in the corridor, creating subtle visual separation.
Li Feng thought the study could adopt the same style. The long room could fit desks; screens would take up too much space and cost too much. Small mats would provide visual privacy efficiently.
This was a shop, not a formal academy. The backyard had a lived-in feel; hanging a few mats along the corridor could provide light screening.
Satisfied, Li Feng temporarily set aside price discussions and asked the owner which honey water tasted best.
