The next day, March sunlight leapt through the window lattice before anyone else was up, scattering into tiny fragments across the room.
Qin Xiaoman rubbed her eyes, her overslept brain foggy and unresponsive.
Seeing the warmthless morning sun scattered across the room, he knew it was late. It had been years since he’d slept in so long that the sun had risen before he got up.
Though he knew no one would scold him for sleeping in, he still scrambled out of bed. Immediately, he pressed his lips tightly together.
“Awake?”
Du Heng heard the noise and came in from outside. Upon entering the room, he saw the young man standing on the bed with a sour expression. He hurried over, intending to lift him down. “Don’t make any sudden movements right after waking up.”
Qin Xiaoman didn’t resist Du Heng’s embrace. Using his strength to help him down, he slipped his feet into his shoes. In that moment, Du Heng brought him his clothes.
Stretching his arms to pull the clothes over his body, he glared at Du Heng.
“What’s wrong?”
“My body hurts now, and it’s all your fault.”
“And!”
Qin Xiaoman nearly blurted out what was on his mind, but after last night’s events, he finally exercised some restraint.
He held up one index finger to Du Heng: “I bragged about it to all the villagers.”
Du Heng had been tying his sash with his head down. Hearing this, he looked up to see Xiaoman’s eyes wide with accusation. He could ignore other things, but this demanded a rebuttal: “You kept saying it hurt, so of course I had to stop.”
“Besides, I told you from the start—if it hurt or didn’t meet your expectations, we couldn’t do it like this.”
Qin Xiaoman snorted. “I never agreed to it.”
Du Heng patted the back of his hand. “It’s like this the first time. It’ll get better later.”
Xiao Man turned to look at Du Heng. “Which one are you talking about?”
“Every single one.”
Xiao Man pursed his lips. Suddenly remembering something, he quickly rolled up his sleeve. Seeing his wrist now smooth, the red birthmark that had accompanied him for years vanished overnight without a trace. He let out a breath.
Though last night hadn’t been entirely satisfying, at least the pregnancy mole was gone. This meant he was just like any other young man, not some freak. With that thought, he stopped fretting.
Still, he walked over to the bedside and tossed the book he’d been reading yesterday at Du Heng, completely disowning it. “It’s all lies.”
He hadn’t understood a single word about what it described. Last night, he’d cried out in pain, and judging by Du Heng’s expression, he hadn’t seemed particularly comfortable either. Kissing him twice had been far more enjoyable.
Still, the process was more or less the same. He wouldn’t need it anymore.
Du Heng tucked the book away in the drawer. Watching Qin Xiaoman sitting on the stool, still looking utterly baffled, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity. He was about to go over and comfort her.
Qin Xiaoman lifted her head and looked at him first: “We’ll try again next time. If it’s like this again, I’ll get angry!”
Du Heng chuckled at her words.
“Don’t just laugh!”
“Alright, I’ll listen to you.”
Now that the land was tilled, the two prepared to sow seeds.
This year’s weather was warm, so Du Heng first soaked the rice seeds for planting. Twenty acres of fields needed sowing.
Based on experience, seedlings from one mu could be divided to plant twenty-five mu of rice paddies.
After discarding dead or poorly growing seedlings, sowing seeds from one mu was just right.
The rice paddies themselves needed no further discussion—they could be used entirely for rice cultivation. However, the family’s thirty mu of land required separate planning.
In previous years, Qin Xiaoman cultivated only about ten acres, primarily planting corn and sweet potatoes, supplemented by seasonal melons, fruits, and vegetables.
Yields were moderate. After fulfilling the grain tribute to the imperial court, what remained barely sufficed for sustenance and raising a few poultry and livestock.
Because of this, Qin Xiaoman hadn’t saved much money over the years and lived quite frugally himself.
Du Heng spent some money in town this time to buy beans, including the soybean variety; he also acquired sorghum, also known as lu su; and incidentally picked up some rapeseed.
Most of these are spring-sown, autumn-harvested crops.
Seeds commanded a significantly higher price than beans or rapeseed sold for immediate consumption, precisely because they were selected from the finest crops and carefully sun-dried. Du Heng spent over a hundred coins on his assorted seed purchases.
Farmers only bought seeds for spring planting if they had eaten their reserve seeds due to food shortages. Otherwise, no one would spare the expense of paying two or three times the price.
Qin Xiaoman examined the seeds Du Heng had brought back. He scooped a handful of plump yellow beans into his palm. These were the raw material for tofu and bean paste, fetching high prices in the city.
Many farmers valued their market price, but soybeans were difficult to cultivate, yielded poorly, and occupied valuable land with meager returns. Households struggling with scarce land were unwilling to risk planting them.
He couldn’t help but feel slightly troubled. Some seeds he had never sown before, and he worried he might not grow them well.
Once planted, they required labor to tend. If the seeds failed, the loss wasn’t significant—but the occupied land and wasted time were far greater costs.
“Uncle Wufu tried growing soybeans the past two years. Both harvests were meager. I heard he’s not planting them this year.”
Qin Xiaoman looked at Du Heng. “He’s one of the village’s veteran farmers, skilled at cultivation. Growing these beans barely broke even—no profit, just covering costs.”
“Don’t worry. I know how to grow them. We’ve cleared all the land this year. It’d be a shame to plant only corn and sweet potatoes.”
Qin Xiaoman felt uneasy, but she didn’t want to dampen Du Heng’s enthusiasm.
Just talking about it probably wouldn’t sink in with Du Heng. He’d keep dwelling on it. At worst, it’d be a bit more work. She’d just go along with his plan. If they ended up losing money, it’d be a lesson learned.
“Alright, then plant all the seeds you bought this year.”