Shun gave him a look and muttered, “Big Brother’s wife, did you forget? You’re here to help Er Huang find a match!”
“Huh?” Lu Liu finally remembered.
He thought to himself, Er Huang really has no taste. Why on earth wouldn’t he go for such a pretty, well-behaved dog? Why fall for that rough, head-butting Hua Niu?
Sanliang wasn’t the type to go around licking people for no reason either. Lu Liu really wanted to feed it a treat.
Shun said, “Don’t bother. It won’t eat it. Even if you put it in a bowl, it won’t touch it. Only Sanmiao can feed it.”
So Lu Liu gave up on feeding it and instead stood up, giving a few commands—the same ones he used when playing with Er Huang. Things like jump, spin in circles. He didn’t dare say anything aggressive like chase or pounce.
The two of them were having such a good time playing with the dog, they completely lost track of time.
It wasn’t until the sound of drums and gongs drifted over that they realized—the wedding procession had arrived. They reluctantly said goodbye to Sanliang, promising to come back to play another time.
Shun said, “Go lie down in your kennel.”
The kennel had a gap at the top—about two feet between the door and the roof. That good dog showed off a little, took a few steps to build up speed, then leapt cleanly through the gap into the kennel. The half-open door didn’t budge an inch.
Lu Liu clapped in delight. “That was amazing!”
Sanliang barked once in response.
Lu Liu liked him even more. A dog that always responded, that never ignored you—what a good dog!
Shun, familiar with Sanmiao’s family, grabbed some water from the backyard, and the two of them washed their hands before heading to the front yard to watch the excitement.
The wedding party had arrived—six carts in total, three pulled by donkeys, three by mules.
Sanmiao, the groom, walked at the front, followed by Li Feng and Da Qiang.
Lu Liu recognized most of the folks helping with the wedding—they were the same group he’d shared a table with last time at a feast. All good friends of Li Feng.
The cart drivers had been chosen carefully—sturdy young men, upright and good-looking. As for the ones banging the drums and gongs on the carts? Well, they weren’t picked for their looks—just as long as they weren’t hard to look at.
The front yard was packed, a sea of people. Everywhere you turned, someone was shouting blessings. It wasn’t like casual chit-chat; no one was just rambling—but somehow every line of well-wishing flowed into the next.
Someone would yell, “Grow old together!” and right after, another would chime in, “May you have lots of children!” The whole scene was bursting with joy.
Lu Liu had been through this once himself. When he’d married Li Feng, even though he’d been under the wedding veil, the flood of blessings had filled his ears, layer upon layer. That’s part of why they’d invited so many to the feast.
The groom led his husband inside to start the ceremony. Lu Liu and Shun couldn’t squeeze inside to see—they had to stand on tiptoe to try to catch a glimpse.
Shun was just a curious kid at heart. Lu Liu? He was genuinely fascinated.
He’d never even been to a wedding feast before. In their village, unless it was close family, no one invited them—worried they wouldn’t be able to return the favor.
That’s why usually only their father went. Having extra mouths, even if he didn’t eat, people still worried he might sneak food.
In the crowd, Lu Liu spotted Li Feng.
Li Feng was laughing heartily, joking with the other men, teasing Sanmiao.
When someone shouted, “Send them to the bridal room!” the hoots and hollers nearly shook the roof.
Li Feng had never treated him like that. Li Feng had always been gentle and protective.
Lu Liu loved feeling cherished—but at that moment, for some reason, he found himself drawn to Li Feng’s wilder, rowdier side. He kinda wanted to see what Li Feng looked like when he let loose.
Once the couple was taken to the bridal chamber, it was finally time to sit down and eat.
Shun had already scoped out the seating, so he dragged Lu Liu to the table where Chen Guizhi was sitting. The two of them squeezed onto a long bench next to some young wives and husbands. Just shifting a little meant bumping elbows with someone else.
Sanmiao’s wedding followed the pattern of Li Feng’s, but everything was a notch simpler.
Fewer carts in the procession, a set menu for the feast. Once the food was gone, that was it—no endless rounds like a flowing banquet.
With the wedding party inside, no one needed to worry about the carts anymore.
Before the feast began, everyone’s eyes were locked on the dishes laid out on the table.
Lu Liu remembered Shun and asked, “What do you want to eat?”
He was determined to snag it for him!
Shun didn’t hesitate. “The big pork knuckle.”
He’d only ever managed to get a bite or two of pork knuckle at a feast before!
Everyone had their chopsticks at the ready, and in the blink of an eye, the platters were empty—no matter how fast you were, it wasn’t fast enough.
At a feast like this, drinking and chatting only started after you had food in your bowl. Right now, all eyes were on the dishes.
Lu Liu kept it in mind, then asked Chen Guizhi, “Mom, what would you like to eat?”
Chen Guizhi glanced at Lu Liu, then at Shun, whose eyes were shining as he stared at the table spread. She really didn’t know what to say about these two.
She hadn’t planned on paying Lu Liu any mind—but then, she remembered she’d eaten two whole pig stomachs thanks to him.
Chen Guizhi let out a breath. “…Shun wanted the pork knuckle, right? I’ll have that too.”
Lu Liu nodded and grabbed Shun’s chopsticks along with his own. Now he had a pair in each hand.
And wouldn’t you know it—Chen’s husband was sitting at their table, and the thing Lu Liu dreaded most happened.
Chen’s husband called everyone’s attention to him. “Look at that—fancy city boys sure are different. Comes to a feast, and eats with two pairs of chopsticks!”
Lu Liu kept his focus on the food. This wasn’t the time to waste energy arguing. One second of distraction, and the plates would be bare.
But Chen’s husband kept on yapping about Sanmiao’s wedding. “Not many carts, food’s thin, dowry’s small. Why’d they even invite you? Aren’t they afraid you’ll laugh at them?”
What the hell was this guy doing, saying stuff like that at a wedding?
Lu Liu frowned. If Sanmiao’s family heard this, they’d be furious.
He shot back, “The only one I’m laughing at is you. How pitiful—you can’t even enjoy a happy occasion like this without making yourself miserable.”
Chen’s husband tried to come back with something, but Chen Guizhi shut him down. “What’s your problem? Want your tongue to rot? Your man and Sanmiao grew up together—think he’d want you stirring up trouble like this?”
That shut him right up. He called her “Auntie” meekly and fell silent.
Just then, Sanmiao’s father bellowed, “Let’s eat!”
Lu Liu sprang to his feet, chopsticks flying, both hands diving for that pork knuckle.
Before he’d stood up, he worried maybe he’d look silly—but the whole table had jumped up with him!
Shun, somehow, had found another pair of chopsticks and, unable to grab any food, was just poking and prodding at the dishes, having a grand old time.
Chen Guizhi had planned to grab the pork knuckle too, but when she saw how Lu Liu’s chopsticks never missed—each move snatching a piece, and if he missed the main target, he’d scoop up something else on the way—she froze.
…Do they have to fight for food like this in the city too?
She gave up on the knuckle and went for other dishes. The spread had been counted out: two soups (mountain chicken soup and snake stew), stewed rabbit, braised pork knuckle, pork and cabbage stew, and steamed cured pork. Four meat dishes, two vegetable dishes, two soups per table.
Lu Liu loaded up Shun’s bowl, filled his mother-in-law’s, and piled his own. Pork knuckle till it was stacked high, a chicken leg, a rabbit leg, half a bowl of cured pork, half a bowl of snake stew, and plenty of pork slices, rabbit chunks, and chicken pieces. If he spotted an empty platter, he grabbed it to use for loading up more.
By the end, he’d switched back to one pair of chopsticks, using his other hand to hold a plate. Wherever his hand went, that dish was done for. The folks at the table just stared at him in shock.
It wasn’t until Chen Guizhi called his name twice that Lu Liu realized—oh right, I’m supposed to be the “refined young master” from the city. He grinned sheepishly and finally stopped, eyeing his little mountain of loot, grinning so hard his eyes turned into slits.
Eating at a feast—simple and pure happiness.
He couldn’t wait to come to another one!
Everyone at the table praised Chen Guizhi. “You really found a good one for Li Feng! He’s amazing—better than Er Tian’s wife. Remember last time you brought her? She even needed help grabbing food!”
Chen Guizhi was thrilled. Around here, if you were too polite, you went hungry. Lu Liu’s performance today had won her over.
The only one who came out of it miserable was Chen’s husband. He’d tried grabbing food a few times, realized he couldn’t compete, and went for the least popular pork slices—only for Shun’s wild chopsticks to knock them away. He hadn’t managed two decent bites.
And now, when it was time to chat and sip wine, his bowl looked so sad he didn’t even feel like drinking.
Outside, the men had their own table.
Li Feng, under the pretense of shielding Sanmiao from drinking too much, went around with him to toast the guests. When he glanced at Lu Liu’s table and saw the pile of food in front of his little husband, his brows lifted in smug pride.
That’s my boy!
Sanmiao, just nineteen and still full of mischief, had done a round of toasts and left only Lu Liu’s glass untouched—he gestured for Li Feng to take that one for him.
