Shun-ge’er burst into the house, blurting out, “Did my brother hit you?!”
Lu Liu blinked, confused. “Huh?”
Shun-ge’er was getting anxious just looking at him. “Did he hit you or not?”
Lu Liu stared blankly, then shook his head. “No… no, he didn’t hit me?”
Shun-ge’er let out a huge sigh of relief. “I knew it. My brother’s not the type to hit anyone.”
He then led the mule cart to the back shed, tied it up, and came back in. “When I passed Yao Fulang’s place just now, there were a bunch of people saying he did!”
Lu Liu stood there stunned—and then he started to panic.
If Shun-ge’er was this surprised, that meant in Lì Village, a man hitting his husband wasn’t something to be proud of at all.
Wait—then what did Yao Fulang mean when he said he’d been “beaten”? Did everyone really mean beatings with a stick or something? Nobody told him that!
What was he going to do now? He’d already told everyone!
He quickly told Shun-ge’er, “Go sit inside, I boiled some sweet water for you. I’ll go talk to Yao Fulang and clear this up.”
When he got to Yao Fulang’s house and started explaining, Yao Fulang cut in before he could finish, “I get it, I totally understand. I didn’t want to say it either. You’re not mad at me, right?”
Lu Liu was nearly in tears. “But… are they going to talk badly about Da Feng?”
Yao Fulang waved him off. “No way. Who’d dare?”
What Lu Liu didn’t know—thanks to rarely going out—was that in a tight-knit village like this, gossip didn’t sleep overnight.
Still, he believed him and went home, settling down with Shun-ge’er to sew some gloves.
When Shun-ge’er found out Lu Liu had already finished curing all the meat, he was thrilled.
“My brother told me to come help you out, said you hadn’t finished!”
Lu Liu had finished. He hadn’t told Er Huang about their wedding, but he had wanted Li Feng to take the dog to the new village to play. So he only mentioned the cured meat, not how much. Li Feng hadn’t gone to check for himself.
Lu Liu brought over his sewing basket and asked Shun-ge’er if he knew how to trace a glove pattern. “I’ve never made gloves before.”
At home, they had tons of chores to do. Out in the cold, you just tucked your hands into your sleeves. Back inside, you sat by the fire. No one wasted cotton on making gloves.
But Shun-ge’er had experience. He picked up a charcoal stick made from animal bone, sized up Lu Liu’s hand, picked a good spot on the fabric, and traced the pattern for cutting.
“You making these for your dad?”
Lu Liu almost said yes—then remembered his dad was now technically his second uncle. After a pause, he corrected himself: “For my second uncle.”
Shun-ge’er had heard of Lu Liu’s second uncle—Li Feng had mentioned him at home. Generous guy.
Speaking of which, today he even had pig stomach soup for lunch.
“You really made it delicious. Mom loved it too. Big Brother wouldn’t stop praising you. Mom asked me to bring you a hundred wen so you can pick up a few things when you go to the market,” Shun-ge’er said.
Li Feng liked Lu Liu and spoke well of him everywhere. Chen Guizhi had a good sense of things—she knew her eldest son wouldn’t let Lu Liu go without. A hundred wen wasn’t enough to buy anything big, but it could go a long way with smaller things. Lu Liu didn’t bring much in his dowry, just enough warm clothes to get by. With a bit more cash, he could stock up while he was out at the market—just to make life a little easier.
As Shun-ge’er spoke, he pulled a small coin pouch from inside his jacket, took out a string of coins, and handed them to Lu Liu.
Lu Liu took it, eyes suddenly misting over.
“Your mom is so good to me.”
Shun-ge’er smiled, seeing he understood. “My mom just has a sharp tongue. You’ll figure it out the more you’re around her.”
Lu Liu nodded eagerly. With the New Year just around the corner, he figured he’d go to the market before they started hanging the cured meat to dry. Once that began, someone would have to stay home to watch over it.
He took advantage of the clear weather to wash and hang the laundry—hands never idle. It was just the two of them at home. The most time-consuming part was taking everything apart and washing it. Once that was done, getting the house ready for the holiday would be easy: just dust, sweep, and wipe things down.
That part was simple. Once finished, he planned to head to the new village to help out and see if his mother-in-law needed anything.
That morning, the two of them continued working on the gloves—mostly working on the pattern. They stitched rough outlines to hold things in place, then cooked lunch together.
The pantry was well-stocked, and Lu Liu had started being more frugal. He figured since Shun-ge’er lived with his mother, he’d also appreciate a little thriftiness, so he didn’t hold back.
For lunch, they had stir-fried greens with sliced meat, and then used the meat again to stir-fry some pickled veggies. Since Shun-ge’er didn’t visit often, Lu Liu made fish soup for him too—same dishes as yesterday.
Li Feng had taken Er Huang out and wouldn’t be back for lunch.
Watching Lu Liu cook, Shun-ge’er laughed. “That’s exactly how my mom does it! I hate it, though. I want meat in every dish. My mom says I’ve got too expensive of a taste—that no regular family could afford to marry me if I don’t change.”
Lu Liu had a lightbulb moment. No wonder when he reused meat in different dishes, Li Feng didn’t even notice—he grew up eating that way.
But Lu Liu didn’t say there was anything wrong with liking meat. If he could afford it, he’d eat meat too—every day, every meal.
That afternoon, they chatted more. Shun-ge’er opened up about things at home.
Mostly about his second brother and sister-in-law. Things had gotten smoother lately.
“You remember last time when you said he listened to his wife? He totally flipped out. Now Mom keeps saying he listens to her too much, so he’s gone the other way—arguing with her all the time just to prove he doesn’t.”
“I don’t really like it. The two of them fight no matter what. I wish they’d just live their lives. But Mom says she still has to keep an eye on Second Brother. Ugh.”
Lu Liu could understand Chen Guizhi’s thinking. If Second Tian could stand on his own two feet, she and Shun-ge’er could live in peace. With Lu Liu and Da Feng, she didn’t interfere much—never came by to scold or nag.
The real issue was that Second Tian just couldn’t hold things up on his own. His wife was just part of the problem.
Lu Liu thought for a moment. Over in the new village, farming wasn’t easy, and meals weren’t shared potluck-style anymore.
Second Tian was one of the main farmhands. Dongmei had to help him. He and Da Feng would also go help from time to time, which meant meals would have to be eaten together again.
Lu Liu didn’t know what to say—so he said nothing at all.
Shun-ge’er waited for a bit, then looked up. “You’ve got nothing to say?”
Lu Liu replied, “I believe your mom will figure something out!”
Shun-ge’er: “…”
He knew it was flattery—but still felt a little pleased.
It was getting late. Shun-ge’er had to leave. He wasn’t staying for dinner. Once he was back in the new village, Li Feng could take the mule cart to pick him up, saving them both a trip on foot.
Lu Liu wanted to pack a jar of fresh fish soup for him to take home for his mom, but Shun-ge’er waved him off.
“Next time. I just had pork stomach soup today. If I drink fish soup too, Mom won’t be able to sleep tonight.”
As for himself? He could eat as much as he wanted and still sleep like a log.
After walking Shun-ge’er to the gate, Lu Liu went back inside to bring in the laundry.
The weather was clear, so the clothes would dry in two days.
Yesterday’s laundry was already dry. He folded it neatly and put it away.
The clothes he washed today still needed more time to dry, so he set up some bamboo poles in the woodshed and hung them there for now.
It was about time to start preparing dinner again. Thinking about Li Feng made him remember the whole “hitting” misunderstanding. When Li Feng got home, he would tell him everything honestly—and hopefully cook something nice to smooth it over.
When Da Feng was well-fed and happy, he was easier to talk to. Lu Liu really hoped he wouldn’t be mad.
Li Feng came home a little later than usual today. By the time he drove the mule cart back, it was nearly dark and hard to see the road.
Lu Liu had been getting worried while waiting, so he went to sit a bit at Yao Fulang’s place. The moment he spotted Li Feng coming down the road, he stood up, walked out, called out to him, and hopped on the cart to ride the last stretch home together. Once home, he quickly fetched hot water so Li Feng could wash his hands and face.
“Why are you back so late?” he asked.
Li Feng replied, “Er Tian and his wife were working for free again and feeling resentful. Lately, Er Tian’s been ignoring her, so she got mad and deliberately steamed an extra pot of sticky rice. We had to pound it into rice cakes while it was still hot—took longer than expected.”
Lu Liu didn’t know what to say. He remembered he had promised Li Feng he’d try to talk to them. Last time, he talked to Er Tian—maybe next time, he should try talking to Wang Dongmei?
He said as much to Li Feng, who chuckled and said, “Don’t bother. If you keep trying to talk to them, they’re going to end up smashing their pots and splitting up.”
Lu Liu pouted. He didn’t even say anything harsh last time—Er Tian just got mad on his own!
Dinner that night was a good one. Lu Liu, hoping to make up for things, added meat slices to the stir-fried greens, meat to the stew, and didn’t even serve the pickled vegetables. All that penny-pinching over the last two meals didn’t make up for what got eaten tonight in just a few bites.
Li Feng finished dinner feeling fully satisfied, never even realizing that his little husband was trying to coax him. After all, Lu Liu was always this sweet—he made him feel completely relaxed, body and soul.
