The three of them fell silent again. In the midst of this lively New Year’s Eve, they became a scene apart.
………………….
With the arrival of the new year, the dividends from the trading firm were distributed. Li Feng brought home seven hundred and forty taels of silver.
Lu Liu had already seen far larger sums in silver notes before—those had been deposits and payments for goods, money they could not touch for personal use. Back then, he would check them several times a day, endlessly grateful that there were many people and dogs in the household; otherwise, he might have gone without food or sleep, clutching the notes in fear of theft.
Now, holding more than seven hundred taels of their own, his mood did not diminish despite the difference in scale. He counted those few “pieces of paper” with great enthusiasm, already planning how to spend them.
For the time being, he did not intend to open a large restaurant. He wanted to wait until family matters settled down.
The twelfth month market would remain busy into the first month of the new year.
From before the New Year to after, Li Feng had no shortage of obligations. Aside from matters at the trading firm, he had to make the rounds delivering holiday greetings. Just as he finished one round before the New Year, the first day arrived and he was once again running about everywhere. After the holiday, he still needed to visit all the merchants who had stayed in the city to celebrate.
He did not stand on ceremony and simply dragged Hai Youtian along to share the burden.
Shun Ge’er had wanted to choose a wedding date in the first month, but seeing how busy his elder brother was, he postponed it, settling on the twenty-seventh day of the first month.
Lu Liu carefully reviewed the household affairs and felt that nothing too ambitious could be accomplished this year. He wanted to spend their money on practical matters.
He told Li Feng about his plan to purchase farmland in the prefectural city. Li Feng assumed he simply wanted to acquire land and agreed without much thought.
As for building coops for chickens and rabbits, Li Feng again gave it little thought. He even referenced Lu Yang’s estate layout and suggested they could add a mill.
For the remaining silver, Lu Liu did not dare to invest in business ventures. Wanting to be cautious, he sought his brother’s advice.
They needed to keep some silver on hand, but should they save all of it?
Lu Yang offered several approaches. If they wanted stability, they could acquire fixed assets—shops, farmland, or houses. These could always be converted back into silver later and would not become a burden. Renting them out would also provide steady income.
If Lu Liu wanted something more secure, he could buy according to his own needs—for example, purchasing a restaurant to establish a family-owned enterprise. After all, renting was never quite the same.
Beyond that, since their fortune had come from Xishan, they should give back to their hometown.
Giving back was not merely about having a trading firm, building drying yards, or setting up workshops so villagers could earn money. It was about uniting everyone and giving them a shared belief.
Large clans all had ancestral halls. They could also fund one, gathering people’s hearts together.
For the sake of their ancestors and the promise of being honored after death, the villagers’ sense of unity would become extremely strong.
Then there was the matter of farmland. The prefectural city and the county were not far apart. Lu Yang suggested that Lu Liu should also retain some land in the county. Having a family estate in the village would set an example and reassure everyone that their roots lay in Li Village.
Unlike hunting, which was hard to measure, farming offered something tangible. Once people saw vast stretches of fertile land, they would understand what kind of future they were striving for.
When they returned home, they could encourage everyone to use the value of one mu of land as a goal—save enough for one mu, then another.
Who could resist the allure of land? It was far more compelling than a small piece of silver.
However, this land could not be directly farmed by the villagers. Over time, it could breed resentment—people might feel that, despite being so wealthy, they still quibbled over a few sacks of grain.
Lu Yang suggested hiring tenant farmers instead and donating a portion of grain to the village each year, depending on the harvest.
There were widows, orphans, and the elderly in the village who needed support. This would count as accumulating merit and blessings.
By the time all these plans were carried out, half of Lu Liu’s silver would be gone.
Lu Liu stared in shock. “Brother, you really know how to spend money.”
If he happened to take a liking to a large restaurant, then that would be the end of it—he would not even have enough silver and might need to borrow more.
Lowering his gaze, Lu Liu thought it over and decided to prioritize his family.
Farmland in the prefectural city was a must. He would also buy new clothes and jewelry for his family.
As for shopfronts, he would keep an eye out nearby. Though business here was not as bustling as elsewhere, dealings with scholars were relatively easier—they cared about reputation. With a successful degree-holder in the family, they would enjoy many conveniences. While there might be fewer large banquets from merchants, the quieter atmosphere suited them just fine.
Then they would first use the money to build the ancestral hall.
They had built drying yards, a honey workshop, and houses in the mountain stronghold before. For just over thirty taels, they could construct a large house. Having never seen an ancestral hall himself, Lu Liu decided to double that and round it up, planning to spend seventy taels.
That day, Li Feng brought Hai Youtian home for a meal. Lu Liu asked him about ancestral halls and learned that carved wooden or stone pillars alone could cost ten taels each, with some reaching several hundred taels. His vision darkened.
Hai Youtian said, “When building an ancestral hall, you have to stay firm and not be fooled. People will pressure you with talk of your ancestors—saying things like, ‘Would you really let your ancestors live in a thatched hut?’ Or, ‘Other families have guardian lions at their gates—yours have nothing.’ They’ll also suggest all kinds of grand, expensive decorations, claiming a large empty hall would make your ancestors uncomfortable. It’s all just rhetoric.
“If you say you only have thirty taels, they’ll still dress it up nicely, praising your filial piety—saying your ancestors can move from their graves into a proper house, sheltered from sun, rain, and snow, and enjoy incense offerings every day. As you earn more in the future, you can gradually add to it, letting your ancestors witness the family’s growth. They’ll be pleased and will bless you from the afterlife.”
The whole family fell silent after hearing this.
Clearly, there was an art to making money.
Li Feng asked about the typical cost range for an ancestral hall. After some thought, Hai Youtian replied, “Anywhere from fifty to three hundred taels, depending on the landscaping and materials. Some wealthy families spend several hundred taels just decorating a small courtyard. But if you keep it simple—build it large and sturdy, with separate inner and outer rooms, one for meetings and one for worship, plus a few additional rooms—you could manage it within one hundred taels.”
Money really did not last. With just a few words, one hundred taels was already spoken for.
Chen Guizhi added, “You should bring this up with the village chief. He’ll spread the word—those with money can contribute money, those with strength can contribute labor. That way you can raise more and save on wages, and the final result will not be lacking.”
The one hundred taels would come from their family, with additional contributions from the trading firm and the villagers. Together, they could build an excellent ancestral hall.
Hearing this, Lu Liu finally felt reassured.
When Hai Youtian came for dinner, Shun Ge’er was noticeably uneasy, not saying a word throughout the meal. Only after dinner, when Chen Guizhi mentioned that an auspicious date had been chosen and that the two families should meet—sending a matchmaker with the betrothal gifts in the coming days—did Shun Ge’er finally glance at Hai Youtian.
Hai Youtian had slimmed down slightly these past few days, looking more spirited. When the topic of marriage came up, he was open and cheerful, his eyes full of joy. He glanced at Shun Ge’er as well, leaving both of them flushed red.
The families set the meeting for the eighth day of the first month, when Chen Guizhi would bring Shun Ge’er to visit.
Li Feng said he would go along, but Chen Guizhi stopped him.
“You’re not his father—what are you going for?”
Li Feng: “…”
From that day on, Li Feng found Hai Youtian displeasing again.
Lu Liu, stealing moments from his busy schedule, coaxed his man—on a fine day, he cleaned his ears, trimmed his nails, tidied his beard, and smoothed his calluses, helping him relax.
With fewer places to roam in the city, even the horses and dogs had no place to wear down their hooves and claws, so those needed trimming as well. The couple worked on it together.
Li Feng said, “Our mountain stronghold doesn’t need stone lions at the ancestral hall. A few dogs will do.”
Lu Liu agreed. “Exactly. Lions don’t even bark—dogs do.”
The children were playing outside, leaving the couple with a rare moment of peace.
After a pause, Li Feng said to Lu Liu, “Second Tian has come to the prefectural city twice recently. I didn’t run into him, and he didn’t come to see Mother. I’ve kept it from her.”
