“The steamed buns aren’t ready yet. I’ll bring some over in a bit,” Lu Lin said.
Xie Yan froze for a second. He could carry the porridge back, but he wasn’t sure if he should accept the buns.
Trying to copy Lu Yang’s way of speaking, he politely replied, “Oh no need. My husband made a whole lot of pancakes this morning—we can’t even finish them all.”
Lu Lin: “…”
Such a clever, capable husband… married to a block of wood.
When Xie Yan got home, Lu Yang asked what had been said.
Xie Yan had a good memory. He repeated everything word for word.
Lu Yang: What?
“That’s how you talked? Just like that?”
There was some logic to how Xie Yan spoke.
First you politely decline, then mention you have food at home, so the other person will keep theirs for themselves. It’s a polite script.
Lu Yang: …
What in the world has he been learning?
Xie Yan grabbed his hand. “Yang ge’er, can you teach me again?”
Lu Yang looked down at him.
Honestly—he’s getting way too good at acting sweet.
Lu Yang said, “If it were me, I’d say something like this: ‘Oh no, no, we’ve got lots of pancakes at home—need to eat them while they’re hot. It’s just the two of us and my mom—three mouths total, so we can’t finish too many! But wow, those buns smell amazing! Next time, bring me a couple so I can try. Today’s fine, don’t worry about it.’”
Since Xie Yan wanted to learn the polite way to talk, Lu Yang laid it all out.
“You gotta make it sound genuine. Saying ‘no’ once sounds too blunt. Say it two or three times—it feels more sincere. And when you say you’ve got pancakes at home, add a detail that sounds real. If you just say, ‘We have too many to finish,’ it might come across like you’re showing off how well-off you are. But if you say, ‘Just three mouths to feed,’ then no matter how many pancakes you have, it makes sense.
“As for the buns—he’s already steamed them and wants to give you some. You gotta compliment him. You haven’t tasted them, so just say they smell great. And if you say you want to try them next time, be realistic. Don’t go asking for a whole basket—two is perfect. It’s a polite number, not too much, not too little.
“Finally, wrap it up by saying, ‘Today’s fine.’ Just leaving it at ‘no thanks’ sounds cold. ‘Today’s fine’ gives it a nice ending. And since it’s the festival, throw in a couple of festive wishes to close out the chat.”
Xie Yan felt like he was listening to a foreign language. People had always called him smart—this was the first time he’d felt like a total fool.
“What is all this…”
Lu Yang patted his hand. “This, my dear, is the wisdom of daily life.”
Everyone loves hearing nice words. Showing off a little makes people happy. But if you run into someone who doesn’t get it, and you brag too much, they might take advantage—and then the two families could end up enemies.
That’s daily wisdom—learned through living. No one really breaks it down like this in real life.
Lu Yang called him to eat, telling him not to overthink.
“Be flexible. Nobody’s words are set in stone. You read all those books—same characters, right? But every sage wrote something different. Don’t box yourself in.”
Xie Yan seemed to be mulling it over, distracted at breakfast, who knew what he was thinking.
Lu Yang didn’t have a care in the world—he just ate with gusto.
Since he cooked the porridge himself, he’d been generous with the ingredients. Simmered overnight, everything was already half-soft, and the morning’s slow boil had made each part tender and fragrant.
The sticky rice gave the broth a rich, velvety texture that coated every bite. Every mouthful was a burst of flavor as all the ingredients came together.
Lu Yang didn’t like hard textures, but after two rounds of slow cooking, the walnuts and peanuts were as soft as chestnuts. He hadn’t added too much sugar, so the natural flavors still shone through. It really was a good pot of porridge.
Lu Lin’s porridge had fewer ingredients but had simmered a long time. The big peanuts were soft and creamy. He hadn’t added sugar—just shredded red dates, and their sweetness had infused the whole pot.
Lu Yang kept nodding as he ate. Next time, I’m definitely adding red dates to mine!
Sipping his porridge, he took a big bite of the radish-stuffed pancake. Fried in pork fat, the crust was crispy and fragrant—delicious even without the filling. The inside was hot, the radish tender, and the wood ear still had a bit of chew. Big bites—so satisfying.
His scholar husband really didn’t know how lucky he was—what was he daydreaming about at mealtime?
Such tasty food, and he couldn’t even appreciate it. Might as well feed it to the pigs. Hmph.
Most of the housework was handled by Zhao Peilan, but since she was always so busy, Lu Yang had told her to sleep in that morning. He’d saved her breakfast, no need to get up early.
After the couple finished eating, they headed out to the shop together.
When Lu Lin saw them leave, he came out of his yard to walk with them.
Xie Yan snuck a look at Lu Lin’s hands—empty. No buns, just as he thought.
Xie Yan: “…”
Living is really hard. Without my husband, how would I even survive?
As usual, the three of them rode Sha Zhu’s donkey cart into town.
Ever since that argument, Sha Zhu’s family had gone on the offensive, refusing to let go of their grudge against Sun Erxi’s household.
The two families’ feud dragged in a bunch of small villagers. The little folks couldn’t stand the drama and one by one admitted they owed nothing, insisting they were just ordinary neighbors with no debts between them and the Xie family.
The Xie family’s struggles had come from being at odds with most of the village.
The big households were few, but the small ones were many. Once the small folk wavered, the Xie family wasn’t so isolated anymore.
The big households—those took real strength to push back against. No amount of clever talk could shake them.
And look at Sha Zhu—he was so scared of Lu Yang now that even his mother treated them with forced politeness. As for the debts, she didn’t bring them up at all anymore. As long as Lu Yang didn’t outright deny the debts, they were hoping to quietly let the matter slide.
It was all about the silver. People like that won’t give up until they’re staring at disaster.
Lu Yang stared at Sha Zhu’s back for a while, then looked away. He turned to Xie Yan and said, “Once Laba’s over, it’ll be the New Year. Let me tell you something. Relationships need care. Don’t be the kind of person who runs to people when you need them, and turns your back once you don’t. We’ve already asked people for help—it’s even more important we take the initiative now.
“Today I’m not going out to sell. Let’s sit down and figure out a gift list. Business has been good lately—we’ve saved enough to spare a little. I won’t go overboard, but your good friend’s family—we have to send them a New Year’s gift. You two are so close. His father’s still alive, and no matter if it’s a big or small gift, it shows your heart’s in the right place. You didn’t even invite them to the wedding feast—you need to make up for that. And Brother Luo and Second Brother Luo too. They’ve done so much for me. I can’t just keep taking without showing any thanks. Whether it’s a small or generous gift, it tells them I appreciate what they’ve done, and keeps their hearts warm.”
Maintaining relationships meant thinking about distance and status. Folks like Lu Lin—they were close kin, lived nearby. Sharing food back and forth now and then—that’s how ties stayed strong.
The Luo brothers weren’t blood relatives, but to Lu Yang, they were as good as family. Since they lived far away and couldn’t see each other often, you had to remember the big occasions—holidays, birthdays.
People often said “three festivals, two birthdays”—follow that, and most relationships would stay solid.
Deciding what to give—that was an art in itself.
Lu Yang didn’t actually know that much. Back home, it had been Old Man Chen who handled that. Lu Yang had learned by watching. But Old Man Chen had been a stingy man, and Lu Yang had picked up some bad habits. Later, chatting with others, he’d realized how much of it hadn’t been proper etiquette at all.
Proper gifts cost money—and Lu Yang lacked experience. Today, he figured he’d stick with the basics: food and drink were always safe, because who didn’t love good food?
While the two of them talked quietly, Lu Lin listened in too.
He thought, This Lu ge’er really is something. Never hung out with him before—I had no idea he’d been holed up at home learning all these skills.
But how do you pick up skills like that just sitting at home? Strange, really.
Lu Yang was sitting with his back to Sha Zhu, facing the main road. He could see what was coming up behind them.
And far off, he spotted a mule cart coming toward them—looked familiar. It was Old Man Chen.
Lu Yang fell silent, stripped off his coat, and curled up with his head in Xie Yan’s lap. He pulled the coat up tight over his upper body, took off his gloves, and didn’t care about the dirt—he pressed both gloves over his face, leaving just enough of a gap for his nose to breathe.
“I’m tired. Let me nap for a bit. Wake me when we get to the shop,” he said.
Xie Yan didn’t think much of it. He just worried Lu Yang might get cold, so he tucked the coat snugly around him.
Lu Lin stared in shock. “Get up! The wind’s biting out here—there’s nothing but drafts in every direction! You lie like that, you’re bound to get sick before we even reach the shop!”
Lu Yang knew what was coming. So he called out to Sha Zhu, “Pick up the pace! If I catch a cold, I’m sending you the doctor’s bill!”
