He said, “We trusted you when we handed this shop over to you. Since we trust you, whatever decisions you make are fine. We keep track of the shop’s profits and expenses—it’s business. You can’t expect last year to be good and this year to be just as good. Jingzhi and I aren’t unreasonable people.
“As for the relatives—now that I’ve come back this time, they won’t dare act out of line again. For everything else, let your husband take on more responsibility. With people supporting you from both sides, why do you have to stay in the shop every single day? Go out, visit people, live a little.”
Lu Lin’s eyes reddened. “I was afraid you’d be short of money in the prefectural city.”
Xie Yan didn’t even know what to say.
The more people he met, the more he felt.
He watched how Lu Yang handled things, listened to how Lu Yang taught him how to deal with people, and slowly figured things out himself. Sometimes he felt tired—he even felt tired on Lu Yang’s behalf.
But when all those feelings were returned, his heart felt full to the brim. He couldn’t quite put it into words—it was simply a deep sense of fulfillment.
That day, he stayed at the shop until late, talking with them for a long time. Some things were Lu Yang’s ideas; some were his own.
No matter how far they went, Sanshui County would always be their roots.
Life meant gatherings and partings—they would always return home one day.
There was no need to dwell too much on temporary separation, nor to burden themselves completely just because they had entrusted responsibilities to one another. First, they were brothers and family; only after that were they partners in business.
Since business came second, they should take good care of themselves first.
Hearing Lu Lin and Zhang Tie mention Chen Jiu several times, Xie Yan figured they must be close. Thinking that Wang Meng was saving money these past couple of years and could still be their neighbor for another year or two, he said, “You’re in the shop every day, surrounded by people all the time—how do you even live like that? I’ll rent you a small place outside. You can move out and live next to Wang Meng and his husband.”
Lu Lin and Zhang Tie had savings. They ate, drank, and lived at the shop, barely spending anything, so they had saved it all. They immediately declined.
They also said that since there would be staffing changes in the shop this year, they needed to stay. They would talk about moving next year.
Xie Yan was about to return to the Wu residence, hurrying to make curfew.
He finished his porridge, waved his hand, and settled it decisively. “Take it as my filial respect to you. It’s decided. Having a place won’t stop you from coming to the shop—it won’t affect anything.”
With that, he left.
It was late, so Lu Lin and Zhang Tie didn’t try to keep him. The couple stood at the street corner, watching him run past a bend until he disappeared. Even then, they stayed there for a long time, unmoving.
Tears ran down Lu Lin’s face. Zhang Tie wiped them again and again. The wind dried his face, and wiping it more only made it hurt.
Zhang Tie took his hand and led him back to the shop, back to their room. Yinxing and Shiliu watched them. Seeing Lu Lin crying, they asked a question but didn’t dare press further. They exchanged glances and kept their thoughts to themselves.
Back in the room, Zhang Tie comforted him. “I told you—Yang-ge’er hasn’t forgotten you. He treats you like an older brother. You’re always afraid you’ll mess up the shop and disappoint him. Seeing you like this, he’d feel bad too.”
Lu Lin said, “I didn’t expect that just one year of knowing each other would lead to such deep feelings.”
Zhang Tie sat beside him. Not good with words, he managed to say, “You have feelings for him, and he has feelings for you.”
That made Lu Lin laugh, and the tightness in his chest eased.
They had considered renting a place before, but they couldn’t stop worrying about the shop. Now that Xie Yan had decided for them, the couple talked it over—better to rent a place themselves and not let him spend the money.
Zhang Tie went along with him. “I’ll go ask Boss Ding early tomorrow, see if he can introduce a young worker for the shop. We should prepare in advance. Yinxing and Shiliu are grown now—we won’t be able to keep them.”
Lu Lin let out a long breath. “Alright.”
He would teach Yinxing and Shiliu the same way Lu Yang had taught him.
Teaching them hand in hand, feelings had grown. Thinking about parting in the future, he felt deeply reluctant.
But there are no banquets in this world that never end.
The further one goes in life, the more deeply that truth is felt.
That same day, Xie Yan and Wu Pingzhi were in the study writing essays. On paper, Xie Yan also wrote the line: “There is no feast in this world that does not end.”
Wu Pingzhi said, “We’ll part one day too.”
Xie Yan replied, playing with words, “What separates long enough will reunite; what stays together long enough will part. No matter how far you go, you’ll end up in the capital. So will I.”
Wu Pingzhi smiled faintly. “The jinshi exam is a major hurdle. I don’t know if I can cross it.”
Xie Yan asked, puzzled, “Didn’t you say you’d give it a try?”
Wu Pingzhi nodded, still smiling. “Do your best, and leave the rest to fate.”
It sounded like discouragement, yet his demeanor didn’t seem defeated at all.
“You’re talking like some mystic—just focus on studying,” Xie Yan said.
Wu Pingzhi spread out a piece of calligraphy. It bore a line of poetry:
“Today, a wanderer returning from rivers and seas; tomorrow, a man soaring ten thousand miles into the clouds.”
Xie Yan set down his brush and applauded him.
“So you’ve been hiding this well? I thought you were all calm and detached, like a lotus flower about to serve under a bodhisattva—turns out you were putting on an act!”
Wu Pingzhi curved his lips into a smile. “Before I’ve even put on official robes, how could I willingly resign myself to fate?”
Still, his recent “busywork” had a purpose—he was trying to restrain his desires and temper his mind.
Seeing improvement in his writing, Xie Yan thought the method worked and didn’t stop him.
He only said, “Just remember the time—don’t end up deceiving yourself.”
Wu Pingzhi muttered, “I examine myself three times a day.”
Xie Yan picked up his own paper and glanced at the day’s notes—they were terrible.
He changed his approach, turning it into a letter—specifically, a letter to Lu Yang. Immediately, his writing became lively and engaging. The same events now carried real emotion.
Comparing carefully, he realized the difference lay in “emotional language.”
When writing formally, he tended to choose overly refined, stiff expressions. Too rigid, and it lost its vitality.
Sitting there, he continued writing, trying several styles, but still couldn’t quite get it right.
He took a fresh sheet and drew a little figure collapsed over a desk, as if fainted. From where it lay, scattered sheets piled around, dotted with tiny marks and wavy lines. On one page, he circled a spot, drew an arrow, and wrote:
“To Jingzhi—there’s too much I want to say. I’ve already fainted from exhaustion.”
The next day, after visiting his teachers, the county school, and private academies, his trip to the county ended. The day after that, he set out for the countryside, while the Wu father and son packed their things to head to the provincial capital to fulfill a vow.
On the day he returned to the village, Zhang Tie accompanied him, and Wang Meng came along as well, worried that the Xie clan might cause trouble.
They ran into each other on the way. Xie Yan mentioned the plan to rent a house and asked Wang Meng to keep an eye out. Zhang Tie, less adept at handling such matters than Lu Lin, took the initiative to say they would rent it themselves.
Wang Meng, of course, sided with Xie Yan. He patted Zhang Tie on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it—he’s got money. His husband knows how to earn. You two should be spending their money!”
Xie Yan praised Wang Meng for being clever, considerate, and thoughtful.
Wang Meng: “…”
That was exactly how Xie Yan praised his own son.
When Xie Yan relocated his father’s grave, he had already consulted geomancers and chosen an auspicious date. This time, the visit wasn’t so formal.
He first went to the estate. The tenant farmers all knelt upon seeing him. Some people from Lu Family Village working there followed suit, and for a while, it turned into a chaotic scene of people trying to stop one another.
On the way from the county to the estate, one passed Shangxi Village.
By the time Xie Yan reached his father’s grave, many people from Shangxi Village had gathered—former clansmen and neighbors.
They stood at a distance, watching him. Every face bore furrowed brows, and beneath them, weary, regretful eyes.
Xie Yan pretended not to see.
He took a shovel and cleared away the weeds nearby.
There weren’t many weeds—the area had clearly been tended, and not just recently. The grave had been well cared for.
He swept away the fallen leaves, cleared a space, and soon his uncle’s family arrived, bringing incense, candles, and paper offerings.
Xie Yan had prepared his own as well. He used both sets, even muttering about where each had come from.
This time, he spoke more during the offering.
He talked about their life in the prefectural city—how being together as a family made studying more meaningful, how his mother had become more cheerful, how she had things to do every day and people to talk to, how she had learned to do business and even call out to attract customers.
