Chapter 73

Lu Liu kept dawdling, going back and forth without saying anything. It was late already, and instead of talking to Li Feng, he wandered out to check on the rabbit in the doghouse, patted Er Huang, and only then came back to soak his feet.

Even when soaking his feet, he didn’t rest them on Li Feng like usual, which made Li Feng notice something was off.

Lu Liu used to call it “serving him a foot wash,” so when he didn’t do it this time, Li Feng asked, “You’re not gonna serve me a foot wash today?”

The moment Lu Liu heard him say “serve,” he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

So he fessed up to the whole thing. After listening, Li Feng just blinked: “?”

He sat quiet for a bit, then said, “You’re telling me… to save my pride, you went around saying I beat you so bad you couldn’t even get out of bed?”

Lu Liu just nodded, “Mhm,” not daring to say more.

Seeing Li Feng fall into silence again, he quickly added, “I made you something good for dinner to make up for it—and you already ate it all, so you can’t get mad!”

That finally made Li Feng laugh. “If you really wanted to make it up to me, you should’ve made chicken.”

Lu Liu’s whole face turned red.

That night, it was Li Feng’s turn to serve him. He helped wash his feet, even stepped on them a little. Lu Liu’s feet were so ticklish, he wriggled in the tiny basin but couldn’t get away. As usual, he ended up stepping right on top of Li Feng’s feet—Li Feng didn’t let him escape.

Li Feng grinned and asked, “So which do you want—getting beaten or eating chicken?”

Lu Liu thought about it and said, “Then you better beat me.”

That way, it wouldn’t count as him lying to others.

But the “beating” Li Feng gave wasn’t the kind of beating he meant.

In the end, it was still chicken. Made no difference.

The fifth day of the twelfth month—market day.

From Li Village to the county seat was over twenty li. On market days, people in the village had to set out before dawn.

Lu Liu was woken up early by Li Feng, but he didn’t want to leave his warm bed. He burrowed into Li Feng’s arms, holding him tight and refusing to let go.

Li Feng patted his back. “So, not going? I’ll just take you along when I head in to sell rice cakes.”

Lu Liu mumbled into his chest, “Let me lie here a little longer…”

But his “little longer” turned into him falling right back asleep.

Seeing him sleep so soundly, Li Feng didn’t wake him again.

By the time Yao Fulang came over and called at the door, Lu Liu jolted awake, scrambled to get up—and failed.

Li Feng’s arm was wrapped around him so firmly, he flopped right back down again. He just yelled toward the door, “Wait a sec! I’m coming!”

No more dragging his feet—he got dressed, put on his shoes and socks, tied up his hair, then rushed out to open the door.

Yao Fulang came in right away and asked, “Li Feng didn’t let you get out of bed again?”

Lu Liu was busy washing up and fetching water, shaking his head hard: “No, no!”

But Li Feng, still lying in bed, casually called out, “Yup, that was me.”

Yao Fulang nearly jumped. What kind of man butts into a conversation between two husbands?

He didn’t stay a second longer. “Hurry up—we’re all waiting on you!”

Those words made Lu Liu feel deeply embarrassed. He hurried to rinse his mouth, barely washed his face—just scrubbed at it with a hot towel—then went to the stove and pulled out a clay pot. He poured the porridge into a bamboo tube to bring along.

The porridge had been slow-cooked overnight, simmering in the residual heat of the stove. It smelled amazing, the grains soft and broken down, the soup thick and creamy.

Li Feng listened to him ramble on about food this and food that, and finally said, “Go ahead and toss in some diced meat too.”

The meat had also melted into the porridge, turning it into a savory meat congee. The smell made Lu Liu lick his lips.

There wasn’t time to eat it at home, so he packed it all into the bamboo container.

Right before heading out, he ran back into the room for money. He told Li Feng, “The porridge smells so good! The pot was too small, though. Once I poured it out, there wasn’t much left. You won’t have enough. Just try a little—if you like it, I’ll make you a big pot when I get back!”

Li Feng handed him the money. He’d previously given Lu Liu two strings of cash, and Lu Liu had asked him to keep them. Then Lu Liu’s mother gave him another string, which he also handed over to Li Feng.

All together, three strings—after buying meat and salt, there was still about 300 coins left, enough for miscellaneous items.

Lu Liu hung his gloves around his neck, tucked the money inside them, slung the basket onto his back, and grabbed the bamboo tube—ready to go.

His eyes sparkled with excitement. He was heading to market—maybe he’d run into his brother.

The thought of his brother completely wiped the man from his mind. Just like that, he ran off, happy as could be.

Li Feng, sitting on the kang bed waiting for his little husband to come kiss him goodbye: “…”

Why did his little husband suddenly forget all about him?

Lu Liu rushed over to Yao Fulang’s house. The two of them were already hitched up and waiting on the road.

Since the baskets were bulky, they stacked them together for the ride and would separate them after shopping.

After getting on the cart, Lu Liu popped open the bamboo tube and let Yao Fulang have a whiff. “Let it cool down a bit—we’ll share it later.”

Yao Fulang had eaten flatbread that morning and brought along some dried rations too.

He looked at the bamboo tube—only two sections tall, not very big—and politely declined, “You only brought this much porridge? We won’t be back till afternoon—you’re gonna need it for both meals.”

Lu Liu blinked. He’d only packed enough for one meal.

Li Feng had told him to just buy lunch in the county and suggested a grilled meat pie.

He’d raved about it—how that vendor made the best meat pies: golden sesame seeds on top, the outside grilled to a beautiful yellow-brown, smelling smoky and delicious, crisp on the outside with a rich minced meat filling inside. The juices alone were enough to make you crave rice.

One bite and you hit meat. You could even ask the owner to brush it with extra gravy—the crust would soak it up and get soft, bursting with flavor. Just thinking about it was satisfying.

The pies were big—Li Feng said two filled him up, and Lu Liu probably couldn’t even finish one.

Of course, big pies came with a price. Sesame, white flour, and meat—it all added up. One meat pie cost ten coins. That was enough to buy a bowl of shredded pork noodles!

Li Feng told him he had to try it, and suggested asking the vendor to cut it in half—eat one side plain, the other with gravy.

Lu Liu had planned to let the advice go in one ear and out the other, but seeing how persistent Li Feng was—and clearly enjoying himself—he just smiled and agreed.

He told Yao Fulang, “Da Feng wants me to go buy a meat pie.”

Yao Fulang asked casually, “What kind of meat pie?”

So Lu Liu repeated the whole description again—except now with added flavor. He was already craving it when Li Feng described it, and once his cravings kicked in, he loved to imagine textures and taste. By the time he was done, Yao Fulang was drooling too.

Yao Fulang turned to his husband driving the cart and said, “Da Qiang, you hear that? Da Feng’s having Lu Fulang buy a meat pie. I want one too.”

Li Qiang had a sharp tongue with his husband too. “Then have Da Feng buy you one.”

Lu Liu: “…”

Seriously, what kind of man is that? Why did Yao Fulang even marry him?

Yao Fulang had barely opened his mouth before his man shot him down, which left him feeling pretty sour—his face darkened noticeably.

Lu Liu patted the back of his hand and said gently, “It’s fine. Da Feng said the flatbread is huge—we can split one in half!”

Yao Fulang couldn’t hide his surprise.

In the village, people were open and generous. Whatever they had, they shared with the neighbors—cheap goods, exchanged with good cheer. But when it came to going into town, even something as basic as a steamed bun was rarely shared. Things you spent money on felt more valuable.

So Yao Fulang was touched, but he still declined.

“No need, I brought my own bread.”

Lu Liu just smiled and didn’t insist.

They hadn’t bought the flatbread yet anyway—plenty of time to figure it out.

Before they left the village, three more people climbed aboard.

Yao Fulang introduced them: one was his cousin’s wife, whom he called Second Sister-in-law Yao. The other two were fellow husbands—Chen Fulang and Miao Fulang.

Lu Liu recognized their surnames right away. They were clearly from one of the nearby villages west of the county. Like him, they’d married into Li Village, but their maiden homes weren’t far.

One of them—Chen Fulang—was even distantly related. He was the son of Chen Guizhi’s eldest brother. That made him Li Feng’s maternal cousin. Technically younger, so he had to call Li Feng older cousin.

Since arriving in Li Village, Lu Liu had kept to himself. He didn’t like going out and mostly just spent time with Yao Fulang. He hadn’t even explored all the nearby areas yet, let alone spoken to Chen Fulang.

Now that they’d finally met, Lu Liu gave him a friendly smile. Chen Fulang gave only a curt nod in return, then turned to Miao Fulang to chat.

Lu Liu was used to that sort of attitude—it meant he didn’t want to deal with you.

That was fine. Lu Liu was perfectly happy just sticking with Yao Fulang.

He asked, “What are you planning to buy today? I’ve barely ever been to market—I don’t really know what’s worth buying.”

To his surprise, it was Chen Fulang who responded to that.

“You’re a county boy. Of course you haven’t gone to market much. You’ve seen the world. Just buy whatever you like.”

The tone was polite—but a little cold, a little sharp. A subtle jab.

Lu Liu caught the meaning right away: You’re not one of us. Must be nice to come from town. We’ll see how long you last here.