Du Heng had been here for a while, but this was the first time he went to the county with Xiaoman.
It was the fourteenth day today, with the Lantern Festival tomorrow. After the festival, the holidays would be officially over, and everyone would return to work. Naturally, the town was bustling.
Early in the morning, Xiaoman got ready, and they flagged down a bullock cart at the village entrance.
The cart already had a few passengers—villagers traveling along the main road, men on one side, women and children on the other.
There was just one empty seat on each side, so they each took one.
Du Heng sat and pulled out a small thread-bound notebook from his sleeve, the kind he had carefully crafted himself, palm-sized and easy to carry.
He reviewed it and checked the list of items to buy in town, afraid of forgetting anything.
“Who’s that young man? I’ve never seen him before, he’s so handsome.”
“Looks like a scholar. Studying diligently even on the cart.”
Xiaoman adjusted the scarf around his neck, noticing two young women whispering to each other, glancing at Du Heng.
Though he couldn’t hear their conversation, he caught their eyes on him. Like a peacock in a chicken coop, it was no wonder people couldn’t help but envy him.
Qin Xiaoman’s expression darkened, and he brusquely stood up, startling the two girls nearby.
“Move over, I want to sit here.”
Du Heng was holding his notebook, but in the blink of an eye, the person across from him had slid right up next to him, forcing him to squeeze inward.
“What are you doing?!”
The man beside him, jostled, shouted in protest.
Qin Xiaoman shot him a glare. Before he could speak, the man sitting closer in saw it was Qin Xiaoman and immediately went silent.
“Let me see what you’re looking at.”
Qin Xiaoman leaned against Du Heng again, smiling.
Du Heng didn’t understand and assumed his brother was just being playful, letting him peek at what was written in the notebook.
But Qin Xiaoman’s mind wasn’t on the notebook. His head leaned toward the notebook in Du Heng’s hands, while his eyes provocatively darted toward the person across from him.
Seeing their young master with someone else, the opposite pair pouted, looking as if they’d glimpsed a flower in a pile of dung—utterly unlucky.
The county town was still alive with festive energy. The window paper-cuts were still fresh, and the lanterns hadn’t been taken down.
They had heard that on the fifteenth there would be a lantern festival, and the wealthy merchants along the river would even rent boats to set off fireworks—both lively and beautiful.
Of course, people from the surrounding villages rarely got a chance to see such spectacles.
“Are you really going to buy me an ox as a betrothal gift?”
Once past the city gate, Qin Xiaoman asked again, almost in disbelief.
Before coming to the county, Du Heng had mentioned buying some betrothal gifts for him. Though he hadn’t specified what, Qin Xiaoman had been so excited he barely slept, urging him early on to go into town to choose them.
Earlier, on the ox cart, he had sat next to Du Heng and saw the same word written repeatedly in the notebook—“ox.”
He didn’t recognize many characters, but simple ones like this he could read, and he found it hard to believe.
Oxen, sheep, donkeys—such large livestock were incredibly valuable to farming households, with oxen being the most prized. Only a few families in the village even owned one.
His second uncle had bought an ox when it was still a calf. Though cheaper than a fully grown ox, raising it had still cost a lot. But the convenience an ox brought was obvious—transporting goods, traveling to town, plowing fields. Qin Xiaoman had long wanted one.
But such animals weren’t cheap. Even a young calf cost several taels of silver; a strong, mature ox could cost ten taels or more. Even knowing its usefulness, an ordinary family would hesitate to spend so much.
Considering that marrying a wife cost only three to five thousand in gifts, plus a wedding banquet, it still wouldn’t match the price of an ox. Spending such money was simply not easy.
So having someone willing to buy an ox for him filled Qin Xiaoman with joy. That’s why, upon learning of Du Heng’s plan, he kept confirming it.
“Yes, I told you I came to spoil you.”
“Do you know the price of an ox? Even a calf costs several thousand, and a strong bull is even more expensive.”
“Money is enough to buy one—just go pick it out.”
With a heart full of excitement and nerves, Qin Xiaoman followed Du Heng into the livestock shop.
Inside, they saw only about ten oxen, both young and old combined.
Du Heng boldly passed over the old and small ones, instructing the dealer to show them the strong bulls.
When asked for the price, the dealer said twelve taels of silver. Qin Xiaoman, shocked, tried to persuade Du Heng not to buy it. But seeing Du Heng determined, he relented, suggesting at least a smaller ox, which they could raise themselves.
“A calf will cost six or seven taels. It’ll take time to grow, and there’s the feed. The main thing is it won’t be ready for spring plowing this year.”
“Yes, yes.” The dealer, seeing Du Heng looked like a pampered young master and spoke confidently, tried to persuade Qin Xiaoman: “Master, just get your husband the strong bull. Spring plowing is coming soon—it’ll be useful.”
“Useful, yes, but too expensive,” Qin Xiaoman said bluntly. “I’ll pay eight taels.”
“What?!” The dealer’s eyes widened. “No strong bull in town sells for that price.”
“If you sell it sincerely, I’ll buy it sincerely.”
“No, no. Even sincerity can’t make me sell at a loss.”
Hearing Qin Xiaoman and the dealer arguing loudly, Du Heng was about to intervene, only to be tugged back by Qin Xiaoman.
“You have to lower it a bit, at least.”
“You also need to raise the price a little, Master. I can’t be the only one giving in.”
After their bargaining, Qin Xiaoman returned and said to Du Heng: “Ten taels—this is the lowest the dealer will go.”
Du Heng shook his head with a smile. Luckily he had the right person with him today, or he would have been cheated. He paid willingly.
Together, they led the ox out of the shop.
Qin Xiaoman held the rope in his hand but couldn’t resist looking back at the strong bull trailing behind. He still couldn’t believe Du Heng had actually bought it for him—a sturdy, healthy bull.
His heart wasn’t merely stirred; it felt like boiling water.
After paying the main expense, Du Heng took the still-distracted Qin Xiaoman to the fabric shop to order two new outfits.
Traditionally, wedding clothes were only worn once, on the wedding day. Qin Xiaoman felt that it was more practical to have two sets of bright, well-made clothes, tailored to their sizes. They could wear them on the wedding day and for other occasions afterward, ensuring dignity and comfort.
Du Heng agreed—it made sense, and more importantly, it was Qin Xiaoman’s wish.
Du Heng had also considered buying a new wedding trousseau and custom furniture as noted in the notebook, but Qin Xiaoman insisted on canceling those.
Spring was approaching, and the family already had bedding and sheets—no need to specially buy red ones, since sleeping under red fabric in the summer would only feel hotter.
The furniture at home was fine, too, made from quality wood from his father’s and uncle’s own forest when they married. It was sturdy and not overly old. Ordering new furniture in town would be expensive—the materials might not even be as good.
Du Heng wasn’t one to waste money. Since they already had usable furniture, there was no need to buy more just for show. Instead, he suggested using the money for a cart—after all, they already had the ox.
Originally, they had planned to go back to the village to hire a local carpenter to make the cart. It would have been cheaper, and they could use wood from their own mountain, only paying for labor.
But as they passed a workshop in town and saw ready-made carts, they couldn’t resist. In the end, they chose one that could be used immediately.
After tallying everything, Du Heng had spent less than fourteen taels of silver on the trip. The most expensive items were the ox and the wooden cart. He insisted on quality wood and craftsmanship for the cart—it had to be durable for travel. A broken cart on the road would be a real problem, so the cart alone cost two taels.
Qin Xiaoman also purchased a few chickens and ducks from the poultry shop and some fish at the riverside market, ready to be picked up before the banquet.
For a farming family, a wedding feast with six or seven meat dishes was considered decent. They would also buy some pork, which, along with the other dishes, would be enough.
Moreover, Du Heng was skilled in cooking, so they didn’t need to hire a chef; he could handle it himself. After careful planning, they managed everything efficiently, both saving money and keeping appearances.
By the time they finished visiting the eastern and western markets and returned home, it was already afternoon.
Qin Xiaoman sat at the front of the cart, using the whip from the livestock shop to guide the ox. One ox was tied to the reins—a gift from his husband—and sitting beside him was the handsome Du Heng. His heart couldn’t have been happier.
He let the ox move slowly, reluctant to actually strike it with the whip.
Seeing the frequent glances from people along the official road, Qin Xiaoman felt incredibly proud.
When they reached their village, he shouted loudly at the ox, making it slow down even more, and naturally, the curious villagers peeked from the fields. From afar, someone called out, “Brother Man, did your second uncle lend you his ox?”
Qin Xiaoman saw Zhao’s mother among the villagers and patted the ox, shouting, “No! My husband bought this for me!”
“Who?”
Patiently, Qin Xiaoman repeated, “My husband!”
Du Heng, seeing Qin Xiaoman almost stand up on the cart to chat with the distant villagers, felt his ears burn and tugged at Qin Xiaoman’s sleeve.
“Why? There’s no need to hide good news. Let everyone know my husband is the best.”
Du Heng sighed but couldn’t argue. Seeing Qin Xiaoman’s face bright with smiles all day, he let it go. After all, he hadn’t been pampered like this in years—letting him boast a little didn’t hurt. His childish heart still lingered.
Qin Xiaoman continued, addressing the villagers in the fields: “On the seventh of next month, we’ll hold a feast at our home. Uncle Zhang, be sure to come!”
“All right, all right!”
At the mention of a feast, the villagers were enthusiastic. Village life wasn’t like the lively city; any excuse for gathering usually revolved around a meal.
The journey home was about the length of an incense stick’s burn, but with the ox cart, it took a little longer. Along the way, Qin Xiaoman called out to everyone:
“Ah, a newly bought ox, and a brand-new cart!”
“My husband bought it for me, as a betrothal gift!”
“Of course! A scholar knows the proper etiquette.”
“The feast will be on the seventh day of the second month. My second uncle carefully chose the date.”
“Expensive, very expensive—ten taels of silver!”
“He’s just that generous…”
By afternoon, the whole village knew: Qin Xiaoman’s household had a new ox, bought by Du Heng as a betrothal gift, and the couple would hold a feast on the seventh of the second month. Everyone eagerly discussed the news.
“His man wasn’t a pauper, was he? Where would he get the money to buy an ox? Probably just bragging—using his own money to keep appearances. What a wasteful fellow! Good thing our Qǐ didn’t agree to take him in.”
Zhao Qi’s mother, seeing Qin Xiaoman proudly leading the ox home, snorted and muttered to another village woman, “Qi’s son can’t show his face now. I bet he scheduled the feast a few days earlier than ours on purpose.”
The village woman smiled enviously. “Still, that ox is strong. If he really paid for it himself, then if he had ended up with Qi’s family, this ox would be yours now.”
“Who cares! My wife is capable, lovely, and will bear children well,” Zhao’s mother replied, smiling. Everyone knew the words were partly for show—they wouldn’t actually deny the ox’s value.
The whole village buzzed with gossip. Qin Xiong, hearing the news, initially thought it was a rumor and rushed to Qin Xiaoman’s home.