Luo Xiu asked around until he found the grain shop, walked in, and inquired about the prices.

Since it was early spring, grain prices were considerably higher than in the fall: beans were sixty wen per dou, foxtail millet was seventy wen, and even old rice cost sixty-five wen. Whole wheat flour cost a hundred wen per dou—foods so expensive that Luo Xiu didn’t even dare to think about them.

With the little money he had, he needed to make it last until the fall harvest and also prepare clothes for his child in advance, so he had to live frugally.

In the end, he bought three dou of beans, three dou of foxtail millet, and six dou of grain—enough to last him a few months. He couldn’t carry any more than that, and once the weather warmed up and he planted his crops, things would be fine.

The shop assistant quickly weighed his purchases. Since he hadn’t brought any bags with him, he had to pay an extra six wen for two burlap sacks.

After settling the bill, Luo Xiu tried hoisting the load onto his back. The two sacks were heavy but manageable. He still needed to buy a pot and some bowls, as well as a padlock to prevent thieves from breaking in while he was away.

Just as he was thinking about leaving, he bumped into someone head-on; the other person was so tall that he was knocked backward.

“Watch out!” A large hand gripped his waist, saving him from falling. Unfortunately, the grain on his back wasn’t so lucky—the loosely tied hemp sacks spilled onto the ground with a clatter.

“My grain!” Without a second thought, Luo Xiu crouched down to pick up the beans and foxtail millet.

At least the beans could be picked up, but the foxtail millet grains were no bigger than sesame seeds—how could he possibly gather them all? With no other choice, he had to scoop them up along with the dirt and gravel and stuff them into his sack, planning to sort them out slowly once he got home.

“It’s all my fault for walking too fast and accidentally bumping into you. I’ll go back in and buy you a new bag.” Zheng Beiqiu looked contrite, though in truth, he had recognized him the moment the collision happened.

Two years ago, he met Luo Xiu once. Back then, the ger was still quite young, washing clothes by the river with bare feet and rolled-up sleeves. A stretch of his arm was exposed, looking as white and smooth as a fresh lotus root—a sight he couldn’t take his eyes off of.

Unfortunately, he’d been too busy buying a saddle at the time to strike up a conversation. Once he got home, he’d intended to find out whose son he was—if he wasn’t already betrothed, he’d make the match himself.

As luck would have it, before the matchmaker even arrived at his door, he ran into the young ger a second time.

The Liu family in the same village was holding a wedding—they were distant cousins by marriage—and since he happened to have some free time, he went over to join the festivities. When Luo Xiu, dressed in a red gown, was led into the house, he was completely mesmerized…

Zheng Beiqiu couldn’t remember how he’d made his way out of the Liu household; consumed by regret and frustration, he set off for the military camp that very night.

Young men in the prime of their lives like them—who doesn’t have erotic dreams? From then on, the person Zheng Beiqiu longed for in almost every dream remained the same.

Back then, he didn’t even know Luo Xiu’s name, but in his dreams, he longed to kill the man who married him.

He’d thought he’d never cross paths with this young ger again in his lifetime, but to his surprise, he ran into him again the very day he returned, so he found himself following him without thinking.

“No need…” Luo Xiu stammered, kneeling on the ground to hurriedly pick it up. Quite a few foxtail millet grains were wedged into the cracks between the stones and wouldn’t come out. The more anxious he became, the harder it was to get them out. Combined with the death of his husband and the fear and anxiety of the past few days, his emotions suddenly collapsed, and tears burst forth.

Zheng Beiqiu was startled. “Don’t cry—it’s all my fault. Wait here; I’ll go inside and buy you some new ones!” He hurried inside and soon returned carrying a sack of foxtail millet, which he set down beside her.

“Don’t bother picking them up anymore. I’ll make it up to you with this.”

Luo Xiu lifted his head, sobbing, and saw the burly man with a full beard standing beside him. He was so startled he nearly fell over. Forgetting about the grain on the ground, he hurriedly hoisted his own grain sack onto his back and left.

Seeing this, Zheng Beiqiu hoisted the newly purchased grain onto his own shoulder and followed closely behind him.

Whenever Luo Xiu quickened her pace, he quickened his as well. Exhausted and gasping for breath, Luo Xiu had no choice but to lean against the roadside and stop. “I—I don’t want your compensation. Stop following me—if you keep this up, I’ll report you to the authorities.”

“You’ve misunderstood. I recognize you—come to think of it, your husband, Liu Changfu, is actually my cousin’s son.” Seeing the look of confusion on Luo Xiu’s face, Zheng Beiqiu said with a chuckle, “Liu Hua is my Tang-ge’s wife.”

“So you’re my Biaoshu,” Luo Xiu said, feeling slightly relieved, though he was still a bit afraid of him. He was a full head taller than him, with broad shoulders and clad in leather clothing; he looked like a small mountain.

“You’re pregnant—how come your in-laws let you come out alone to buy grain?”

Luo Xiu froze, and tears began to well up again.

Zheng Beiqiu, a rough-and-tumble man, didn’t have a handkerchief on him. After rummaging through his clothes, he finally tore a piece of cloth from his undershirt and handed it to him. “Wipe your face. It’s so cold out here—don’t let the wind make you cry.”

“Thank you.” Luo Xiu used the fine cloth to wipe the tear streaks from his face before finally revealing the news of his husband’s death.

Zheng Beiqiu’s eyes lit up the moment he heard this. “You’re saying Liu Changfu is dead? When did that happen? Oh… I had no idea something so big had happened.” 

“The funeral was just yesterday. My mother-in-law said she couldn’t afford to support the baby I’m carrying and me, so she kicked me out.”

“What a pity about my nephew Changfu—gone at such a young age…” Zheng Beiqiu’s face showed not the slightest trace of regret; on the contrary, he could barely contain the smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“So where are you living now?”

Luo Xiu hesitated for a moment before telling the other person where he lived. “The old family home over in Hedong.”

“That’s so far away—can you carry it all the way back by yourself?”

Luo Xiu was at a loss; he still hadn’t bought a pot yet, and without one, he wouldn’t be able to cook the rice.

“I happen to be heading back to the village anyway—we’re going the same way. Let me help you carry the grain; consider it my way of apologizing to you.”

“I can’t possibly accept that…” Luo Xiu hesitated.

“If you’re worried people might see and gossip, I’ll just carry it to the village entrance. Once we’re inside, you can take it from there yourself.”

With him having gone to such lengths, it would have seemed ungrateful for Luo Xiu to refuse any longer, so he could only nod in agreement. “Thank you.”

Zheng Beiqiu reached down and hoisted several bags of grain from the ground onto his shoulders. “Let’s go. Let’s just buy everything we need now so we don’t have to make another trip later.” 

“Well, thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it—we’re family, after all.”

As Luo Xiu turned to leave, Zheng Beiqiu finally couldn’t help but flash his big teeth, his face practically splitting with laughter.

Who would’ve thought that kid from the Liu family would die so young? His husband was widowed at such a young age—what a pity, such a pity!

Luo Xiu spent one tael on a lock and another two taels on a clay pot. The old house didn’t have any quilts yet—it didn’t matter if he went without one himself, but he couldn’t let the baby freeze once it was born. Gritting his teeth, he went to the fabric shop and bought half a bolt of coarse cloth, which used up more than half of the money he had on him.

Once he’d finished shopping, Luo Xiu said apologetically, “I’m sorry to have kept you running around with me for so long, Biaoshu. Now that we’ve bought everything, let’s head back.” 

“All right, let’s go.”

Zheng Beiqiu carried over a shi of grain on his shoulder and walked briskly ahead. If it weren’t for his consideration for him—his husband had just passed away—he would have loved to sing a little tune to celebrate.

Luo Xiu followed behind him, clutching a pile of odds and ends. Zheng Beiqiu had originally offered to help carry them, but Luo Xiu had refused. After all, the lock was quite valuable—what if he took it and didn’t return it to him?

The two walked in silence all the way to the entrance of the Village. Luo Xiu lived on the east bank of the river, so he had to take a detour, while Zheng Beiqiu’s house was on the west bank, so their paths didn’t align.

He set the grain down and asked, “Should I carry this all the way to your doorstep, or just leave it here?” 

“Leaving it here is fine. Thank you, Biaoshu, for helping me carry it back.”

“Don’t mention it—it was no trouble at all. You should take this bag of grain, too.” 

“No, thanks. I can’t carry that much grain myself.”

Zheng Beiqiu scratched his head. “All right, then. If you need anything, come to the village and call for me. Do you know where I live?”

Luo Xiu shook his head. Even if he knew, he had no intention of bothering him. Having just lost his husband, he was in a vulnerable position where gossip could easily arise. If people saw him running to a distant cousin for help, who knew what kind of backbiting would follow.

The villagers’ tongues were as sharp as knives, and since he was a man who valued his reputation, he certainly didn’t dare let anyone talk behind his back.

Luo Xiu hoisted the two bags of grain he’d bought onto his back, threaded a rope through the pot and hung it around her neck, and finally tucked the cloth under her armpit before setting off for home.

Zheng Beiqiu watched his slender silhouette and couldn’t help but marvel inwardly: His waist was so thin it wasn’t even as thick as his own legs, yet how could his buttocks be so round and plump…

Only after he had disappeared from sight did he start humming a tune as he walked toward the village: “The big spring sun, shining down, feels so warm on my skin. It reminds me of my lovely wife—so toasty in bed~”.

“Daqiu’s back.” From a distance, several women were sitting under the old banyan tree at the village entrance, chatting. Zheng Beiqiu stopped in his tracks and said with a smile, “I’m back.”

“How many days are you staying this time? Or are you not going back at all?”

“I’m not going back. The barbarians up north have been driven off, and the border garrisons can’t support so many soldiers anymore. All the military households from our town have come back.” 

“That’s wonderful! You’d better get moving and find yourself a wife. You’ll be twenty-five by the New Year, won’t you?”

At the mention of his age, Zheng Beiqiu’s expression darkened slightly. “Third Auntie, you’re mistaken—I’m twenty-four.”

“Right. You’re the same age as my second son. He already has three kids, and you still haven’t found a wife.”

She really knew how to rub salt in the wound. Zheng Beiqiu wanted to curse her out, but then he thought—Liu Changfu was dead, and his husband was now a widower. Wouldn’t he have a husband of his own very soon?

“Hehe, Third Auntie’s right. If you see anyone suitable, please keep an eye out for me.” 

“Alright, Third Auntie will ask around for you.”

No sooner had Zheng Beiqiu left than the other women began whispering among themselves.

“Is that Old Zheng’s son?” 

“Yes, their eldest son.”

“Wow, I didn’t even dare to claim him as my own—how did he grow up to be so tall?”

“I heard their family has Manhu ancestry—his grandmother was a Manhu woman who was taken in by his grandfather years ago. Every one of the kids she had turned out this sturdy.”

“I remember their second son doesn’t look anything like him—I think he even went to school.”

Auntie San said, “Their second son is a scholar; he got married ages ago.”

“He’s this old and still hasn’t found a wife—it’s hard to find a suitable match.”

“I was just saying that off the cuff. That kid has killed people on the battlefield—he’s like a demon. Who would dare act as a matchmaker for him? I wouldn’t want to push some young man or woman into the fire; I’m not about to do something so unethical.”

Zheng Beiqiu didn’t hear what she said; otherwise, he would have surely tried to defend himself. How could someone as upright as him end up being compared to a “fire pit”?

He hurried to his front door. “Mom, I’m home!”