Chapter 32

The words carried weight, and Lin Yue instinctively glanced at Shen Huaizhi.

Shen Huaizhi happened to turn his head toward him as well, replying with a look of agreement, “Father is right.”

Lin Yue felt a momentary stumble—his worries had been entirely for naught.

Shen Zhengchu nodded approvingly at Shen Huaizhi, then addressed Lin Yue: “Yue’er, your father isn’t stopping you. We’re all heartened by your initiative, but it’s truly unnecessary. If you wish to set up a stall, go ahead. Keep whatever you earn—whether it’s buying a new garment, treating yourselves to a meal, or saving for your future children.”

Song Xunchun also chimed in with a smile, “Brother Yue, seeing how well you two get along makes your father and me happy. You don’t need to worry about money.”

Lin Yue always knew the Shen family was kind, but he still felt deeply touched at that moment.

“Father, Mother, I know you’re good to me, but we’re family. Why draw such clear lines? Besides, I don’t know if I’ll even make any profit. If I can’t sell it, I hope you won’t blame me.”

The rest didn’t need to be said. When he had extra money in hand, they could discuss what to buy with it—like building a house. He’d only mentioned that he wanted to live in a tiled-roof house himself. Could they really stop him?

Song Xunchun patted Lin Yue’s hand and said, “Profits and losses are part of business. Besides, with your skill, even if it doesn’t sell, we can enjoy it ourselves. Don’t worry.”

Shen Zhengchu added, “Go for it boldly. You needn’t fret about household chores. Even if you lose money, it’s no big deal.”

Lin Yue beamed brightly. “Thank you, Father and Mother. I’ll think it over and head out in the next couple of days.”

Song Xunchun was more meticulous, asking gently, “Have you decided what kind of business to start? For a stall, shouldn’t you get a cart with shelves? Selling food isn’t like selling vegetables—you can’t just spread a burlap cloth and pile things on the ground. Townspeople value cleanliness.”

Lin Yue hesitated. He knew how to make quite a few dishes—some learned from his mother as a child, others picked up while visiting uncles and aunts in the village. He could handle daily meals, pastries, and beverages.

After deep thought, Lin Yue finally spoke slowly: “Mother, back home, I sold pastries in town a few times. It wasn’t often, but business was decent. So this time I plan to start with pastries too. First, I have experience, and second, pastries are light—no need for a cart. Just a basket on a shoulder pole will do. If business picks up, I can gradually add other foods.”

Shen Lingzhi’s eyes sparkled as she raised her hand eagerly. “Brother, can I go with you? I don’t need to pay—I’ll just help you out!”

He’d never set up a stall in town before, and even shopping trips were rare—especially these past two years since his brother often handled household purchases. Though his brother brought him things, Shen Lingzhi still yearned to explore the town himself, even if he bought nothing.

Lin Yue chuckled. “Of course you can. If you come, we can make several more kinds of pastries in a day. Just one thing—you won’t be shortchanged. If you refuse payment, then once we’re in town, consider it a trip for fun. You won’t have to help me sell anything.”

Shen Lingzhi hesitated, but seeing Lin Yue’s determined expression, he agreed.

Song Xunchun watched them smile. What could be better than a harmonious family?

Meanwhile, Lin Yue and Shen Lingzhi had already begun whispering, discussing what pastries to make.

Shen Huaizhi had been listening quietly. Seeing them start their discussion, he suggested, “It’s the height of summer. Perhaps we could sell beverages. Last time I went to the county town, I saw many vendors selling drinks, and their business seemed quite good.”

Lin Yue slapped his thigh. “Right! How could I have forgotten that? It’s June now. The bayberries on the mountain should be ripe, and we still have some apricots left in our backyard. Both are perfect for making drinks—tart and sweet. I’m sure many people would love them.”

“We could also make perilla drinks, mung bean balls, and fermented water—all delicious. Come September, when the hawthorns ripen, we can make hawthorn soup and candied hawthorn on sticks.”

Shen Lingzhi propped her chin on her hand, her mouth moving as if tasting the flavors already. “Brother, you know how to make so many things!”

Song Xunchun chimed in with praise: “Brother Yue is truly remarkable. In our village, with so many people, I’ve never seen anyone else make drinks. Most just gulp down a bowl of cold water. Those who can boil water and steep tea leaves are already considered quite refined.”

After all, boiling water required firewood. Villagers spent all year tending crops, leaving few days free to trek into the mountains for firewood. Even if they stockpiled some, it was reserved for cooking or carried to town to sell—a bundle fetching up to ten wen at a good market, enough to add a few coins and buy a pound of meat for the family to treat themselves.

In town, where wells were scarce, firewood was mostly bought. There were even vendors selling hot water by the pot for two wen each.

Song Xunchun added, “If you’re selling drinks, you’ll need a cart to push them around. Carrying them on a shoulder pole would be too heavy.”

Shen Zhengchu agreed, especially since Lin Yue and Shen Lingzhi were still children in his eyes. Unable to accompany them to help, he pondered and suggested, “We have a carpenter right in our village. He made our tables and cabinets before—he should be able to build a display rack. I’ll go ask him tomorrow.”

Lin Yue realized once again that this family was all hotheads. They hadn’t even figured out how to set up their stall yet, and already they were fretting about business being so big they’d need a shelf.

While they believed they were doing something good, they couldn’t be so reckless. Lin Yue made a mental note and said, “Father, Mother, there’s no need to rush this. We still need to figure out exactly what to sell and how to sell it. Tomorrow, I’ll make a few pastries and drinks for you to try. Once we decide which flavors are best, we can start by selling them from a shoulder pole for a couple of days. If business is good, then building shelves later won’t be too late.”

Seeing Lin Yue had made up his mind, Song Xunchun and the others said no more. The matter was settled.

Each went to wash up and return to their rooms. Shen Huaizhi reviewed his lessons while Lin Yue sat nearby, pondering food ideas. Only when Shen Huaizhi paused to rest did Lin Yue approach, waiting for Shen Huaizhi to teach him writing.

These days, the two had scarcely a moment to spare. Lin Yue was still learning how to hold a brush; his characters scrawled crookedly.

This wasn’t Shen Huaizhi’s first time teaching someone to read. Years prior, he’d tutored Shen Lingzhi, though that instruction had been sporadic. Compounded by their family’s earlier hardships, purchasing brushes and ink was a burden. Most of the time, they’d simply use sticks to write on the ground. By the time their circumstances improved enough to afford proper writing tools, both were older by then. Even as brothers, certain boundaries had to be observed. Thus, this was Shen Huaizhi’s first time personally guiding someone through the process of learning to write.

Lin Yue stood before the desk, pen in his right hand. Shen Huaizhi positioned himself just behind and to the side, his embrace nearly enveloping Lin Yue entirely.

With his back pressed against Shen Huaizhi’s chest, Lin Yue felt extremely uncomfortable. Though newlyweds, their intimate moments were frequent—except on days when exhaustion overtook them. Shen Huaizhi loved kissing him, from his neck to his forehead, leaving no spot untouched.

But that was in the bedchamber, unlit except on nights of exceptionally bright moonlight when Lin Yue couldn’t even make out Shen Huaizhi’s face, making it far more comfortable. Now, with daylight still streaming in, even this slight touch made Lin Yue tense up completely.

At first, Shen Huaizhi exercised great restraint, deliberately avoiding all contact except for his arms. But seeing no sign of Lin Yue’s displeasure, he gradually pushed further. Each time, he stopped short of crossing the line, withdrawing the moment he sensed Lin Yue’s expression change. Thus, Lin Yue was slowly boiled like a frog in warm water—tense yet gradually adapting, even finding his tension easing.

“Keep your wrist steady. Don’t rush. Take it stroke by stroke.”

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

The next day, Lin Yue and Shen Lingzhi set out before dawn, heading straight for the back mountain.

It was Lin Yue’s first time climbing this mountain. Everything along the way fascinated him. “Lingzhi, there are even azaleas here! Too bad they’ve all bloomed. Next year, we’ll come pick some.”

Azaleas, a type of rhododendron, were stunningly red. But villagers, especially children, cherished them for another reason: their petals could be eaten raw, sweet and refreshing. Shen Lingzhi had devoured plenty as a child.

“Great! Besides these, there are several more flowering trees up ahead. We can gather quite a lot.”

Lin Yue said excitedly, “Then we can figure out a few dishes to make with the azaleas. If we set up a stall to sell drinks, using them as decoration would look pretty too.”

Shen Lingzhi imagined it and felt her heart flutter. “Brother, can I be the third one to taste it?”

“Why the third one?”

Shen Lingzhi chuckled. “You’re the first, my brother is the second, so I’ll be third.”

Lin Yue blushed at the teasing and quickly changed the subject. “Are we almost there?”

Shen Lingzhi glanced around and nodded. “Almost. I remember a few trees up ahead—they’re especially big.”

“Then let’s hurry. We’ll pick them early and make some bayberry soup.”

“Alright!”

Both had been running up the mountain since childhood. The bayberry trees weren’t far away, and they reached them in just over half an hour.

It was just the beginning of June, and most of the bayberries were still green. They picked and chose, gathering a mix of red and green berries, along with a few fully red ones. Carrying their basket, they headed toward another bayberry grove.

As Shen Lingzhi walked, he found himself unconsciously veering off the main path. He was still moving forward overall, but now he was traversing an area thick with mountain weeds.

With the rainy season upon them, mushrooms should be emerging in the mountains. Though it wasn’t yet time for the first flush, one or two mushrooms had already poked their heads out.

“Brother, look at me! I found a red mushroom!”

Lin Yue had initially wondered why Shen Lingzhi was veering off course, but now he understood completely. “Really? The mushrooms are coming out early this year.”

Shen Lingzhi ran over holding the mushroom, her voice tinged with regret. “Still too early. It’s all shriveled up. Looks like it won’t taste good.”

Lin Yue nodded. “Better toss it. These mushrooms aren’t edible yet. Let’s come back after it rains a bit more.”

“Brother, could we come pick mushrooms in the morning and set up a stall in the afternoon?” Shen Lingzhi asked, convinced it made perfect sense. Mushrooms could be sold for money, especially matsutake—the town’s wealthy loved them most.

Recalling past mushroom sales, Lin Yue nodded. “That’s a good idea. We can sell mushrooms alongside our food stall. Renting just one stall would save us money.”

The mention of money sparked a new idea in Lin Yue, his eyes lighting up instantly. “Lingzhi, what if we collected mushrooms from the villagers to sell in town? There are so many varieties, and some people only like specific ones. But one person can only gather so much. If we collected everyone’s harvest and sold them by type, we could make a profit.”