In the courtyard just beyond the wall, Huo Ling stood at the doorway greeting guests, dressed in a neat, clean cotton robe with a fresh red sash tied at his waist.

“Jun, look at your Uncle Er Ling—his grin stretches from ear to ear!”

Hearing that familiar teasing voice, he turned to see Yang Qingsheng leading his son, Yang Jun and his daughter-in-law Xia Qingman toward him, their faces beaming with mischievous delight.

Upon reaching them, he bowed his hands. “Brother, no need for long speeches—congratulations on your wedding!”

“Congratulations on your marriage, Uncle Er Ling! May you enjoy a hundred years of bliss!”

Though Yang Jun was a bit mischievous, he was genuinely generous outside the home. His voice was clear and resonant when speaking to anyone, making him quite endearing.

“Thank you, Dajun.”

Huo Ling ruffled his hair, then nodded to Xia Qingman before adding, “I haven’t seen you in ages. You’ve grown taller. Keep at it—you’ll tower over your father someday.”

“You praise him, but why drag me into it?”

Yang Qingsheng, gifts in both hands, strode in without hesitation. Spotting Huo Feng and Ye Suping, he greeted them, “Big Brother Feng, Sister-in-law, where should I put these?”

“You chatterbox, can’t you spare us the nonsense?”

Xia Qingman playfully scolded him before turning apologetically to Huo Ling. “We promised to help earlier, but business matters held us up. We’re rushing back today and barely made it in time.”

Huo Ling thanked her, waving it off. “We’re family here. No need for formalities.”

He slapped Dajun’s shoulder. “Yingzi was just talking about you the other day. Go find her to play. Dager’s in the backyard too.”

Yang Jun practically jumped three feet in the air and dashed off. Xia Qingman asked Huo Ling where Yan Qi was, saying she’d go inside first to greet her sister-in-law.

Yang Qingsheng, ever the enterprising one, set down his gifts before swiftly fetching a table. He spread out his own paper and ink, then sat by the doorway to record the wedding gifts for Huo Ling.

After all, as a merchant in town, he might not be a scholar, but he knew the basics—reading, writing, and keeping accounts.

The Yangs were townspeople with shops and houses—respectable merchants in Xiashan Village. Seeing him record gifts at the entrance, the banquet guests couldn’t help but regard the Huo family with greater esteem.

Adding to this, the caterer was none other than Chef Liang. After taking their seats, everyone agreed the Huo family hadn’t prepared this feast lightly.

“Seems they care deeply for that boy.”

“Though I’ve only met Yan a few times, he seems like a decent sort.”

“Decent is good enough. Outsiders are always in trouble—what if he runs off someday? Who would we complain to then…”

“Oh dear, talking like that on their wedding day!”

Little did they know this was just the beginning. Later that evening, Village Chief Zhou Chengzu arrived with several family members. The moment they entered the courtyard, they were ushered straight to the head table.

The villagers knew Zhou Chengzu and Old Huo Shuan were close friends. Had Zhou not spoken up that day, Huo Ling and Yan Qi might never have been together.

Because of this, some villagers who were notoriously stingy—the kind who’d bring only a meager gift and then parade their entire family around to freeload at banquets—didn’t dare to be too blatant. Afraid the word might reach the village chief’s ears, and they’d face retaliation later, they gritted their teeth, stamped their feet, and added a bit more to their offerings.

This time, mindful of relatives from neighboring villages, the Huo family didn’t schedule the banquet for dusk but instead moved it to noon.

As the sun hung high in the sky, a cart pulled by oxen approached from the village entrance, carrying several people.

Seated boldly at the front was a burly man—Huo’s mother’s elder brother, Yue Songbai, the maternal uncle of the Huo brothers. Accompanying him were his wife, Qiao, and their eldest son’s family of three.

The couple also had a son, who had followed his father to do business in another county and clearly hadn’t made it back in time.

Huo Ling couldn’t hide his delight at seeing his maternal relatives. Living so far apart, they rarely met except during the New Year celebrations.

A flurry of greetings—Uncle! Cousin! Brother-in-law!—filled the air. By the time they entered the house, everyone was warm and affectionate.

On the Huo family side, the main table was reserved for the Zhou family, with the rest occupied by the maternal relatives.

The next table over seated villagers like Yang Qingsheng, who were close friends with Huo Ling or Huo Feng. They were the kind who’d lend a hand without hesitation whenever needed.

Due to Xiao Mingming’s close friendship with Yan Qi, the Lin family mother and son also sat at this table this time.

“Good lad, you’ve finally gotten married! Your uncle and I heard the news but couldn’t quite believe it.”

Yue Songbai first bowed to Zhou Chengzu, then slapped Huo Ling’s back twice with a hearty “thump-thump,” grinning widely.

His nephew was of marriageable age yet still unmarried—how could the maternal family not worry? Every New Year’s gathering brought the same lament, though they sighed that daily oversight was beyond their reach. After all, he was a Huo, not a Yue.

Whether he married a local or an immigrant was beside the point. Changlin County was full of outsiders, most tracing their roots to the Central Plains. No one looked down on anyone else.

“Once the formalities are done, I’ll bring Qi out to meet uncle’s family.”

“Very well, very well. You needn’t trouble yourself with that here. Go quickly and entertain the villagers outside.”

Once all ten or so tables were filled, Huo Ling smoothed his robes and went to the doorway to greet his husband.

Yan Qi, flanked by Sun-shi and Ye Suping on either side, smiled shyly as he extended his hand, allowing Huo Ling to take it in his.

Amidst the mingling laughter and cheers filling the courtyard, the couple exchanged simple greetings amidst the lively commotion.

With neither set of parents present, they paid respects to the elders seated at the main table. Finally, they bowed to each other, rose, and offered a toast to the guests.

After the formalities concluded, the tables eagerly began eating.

Eight dishes graced the table, each rich with meat. Four hearty main courses featured fish stewed in an iron pot, mushrooms with hazelnut chicken, stir-fried rabbit cubes, and pork with vermicelli. A large bowl of cold-mixed pork offal graced each table, while the remaining vegetable dishes were generously studded with sliced meat.

In the countryside, banquets emphasized rich flavors, abundant meat, and ample wine. No one came here for leafy greens—especially when only dried vegetables were available this season.

Chef Liang’s culinary skills were unquestionable; every dish was a feast for the eyes, nose, and palate. Diners repeatedly declared themselves fortunate to partake today.

Take the hazelnut chicken and wild rabbit—though abundant in the mountains, not everyone venturing in could catch them. City folk occasionally splurged to buy them, but who in the countryside would? Getting a few bites to savor was absolutely worth it.

After a round of toasts, many men at the tables were already flushed and red-necked. They were the sort who craved drink at home but were kept in check, unable to drink freely. They seized the banquet as their chance to drink their fill. As the host, one couldn’t really say anything—after all, the whole point of hosting a feast was to enjoy the lively atmosphere.

Others who usually dared not provoke Huo Ling took advantage of the festive occasion to cling to him, demanding toasting rounds. Refusing was seen as refusing to give him face.

Seeing the commotion outside growing increasingly unruly, the air thick with the stench of alcohol, Huo Ling seized an opportunity to escort Yan Qi back to his room first.

Yang Qingsheng seized the moment to team up with Lin Changsui and herd that troublesome Miao man aside.

This fellow was the son of Old Lady Zheng, who had made disparaging remarks about the two young men when the matchmaker visited the village. As the third son and the family’s only male heir, he was named Shougen, though villagers often called him Miao Laosan.

When he first heard his mother had rejected the match, citing the suitor’s ugly looks and poor fertility prospects, he dismissed it, confident he could find someone better.

But later, seeing Yan Qi and Xiao Mingming in the village, he was startled by the ger’s striking beauty. Watching him laugh and chat with Huo Ling and the stammering Lin family member, their affection so palpable it made his heart ache bitterly.

He’d even argued with his mother over it, enraging Old Lady Zheng so badly she fell ill and hasn’t recovered to this day.

That’s why Old Lady Zheng couldn’t come to feast and profit today, yet he showed up shamelessly, bringing a meager gift.

Only after listening to Lin Changshui’s stammering account did Yang Qingsheng grasp the full extent of the legal case he’d missed out on. The more he thought about it, the more furious he grew toward the Miao family.

The moment Huo Ling was free, the two of them dragged him away. If they just wanted to get drunk, why bother with Huo Ling? The two of them alone could easily get him so wasted he’d end up under the table, vomiting so badly his own mother wouldn’t recognize him.

Over here, Huo Ling had settled Yan Qi and stepped out just in time to see Lin Changsui “persuading” Miao Laosan to drink.

The problem was Lin Changsui stuttered when he spoke at length. With strangers, he always took the path of least resistance. If someone said something he didn’t want to hear, he could just claim his hearing was bad and that he hadn’t heard clearly.

So this time, he opened his mouth and blurted out three words: “Come on! Bottoms up!”

Then came a clanging series of drinks.

As for Miao Laosan, his eyes were already glazed over from drinking. Finally, someone at the table stepped in to smooth things over, forcibly dragging Miao Laosan away and pinning him down. Only then did Yang Qingsheng and Lin Changshui let him off the hook.

Nearly an hour passed after that. The feast ended in a mess of scattered dishes and cups, and everyone finally dispersed, helping each other home.

Yue Songbai drank himself into a stupor, shouting about how happy he was today—no one could stop him. Thankfully, his son was still able to drive the cart back to the village. After lying in the east room for a while and sobering up a bit, they packed up and headed home.

Staying here wouldn’t have given them anywhere to sleep, and they’d have had to travel through the night anyway.

Before leaving, Yue Songbai held his two nephews’ hands, feeling strangely reluctant to part.

He had only one younger sister, who had passed away even before her elder brother. Thankfully, the two boys she left behind were doing well. Thinking of the past, his eyes reddened.

“Remember to come visit us during the New Year. Come early and stay for a few extra hours.”

He also cautioned Huo Ling to be extra careful when venturing into the mountains. “Things are different now. You have a family to protect. Money is only for sustenance. We don’t risk our lives for it anymore.”

He recalled how, had Old Shuan been more cautious in his dealings, he wouldn’t have met his untimely end, leaving his sister a widow with young children.

He had resented his brother-in-law back then, but now that he was gone, those words could never be spoken aloud.

Huo Ling understood his uncle’s lingering regret. He listened attentively, nodding in agreement at every point.

Some people became more talkative after drinking, their tongues loosening until they couldn’t stop. Yue Songbai was one such person.

They’d been at the gate for ages, the cart already harnessed, yet the man still chattered on. His wife, Lady Qiao, couldn’t bear it any longer and called their son to forcibly escort him away.

Otherwise, the Huo family would have been too busy just dealing with him. After a long day’s work, everyone was exhausted. They left early so the household could tidy up and rest.

Hours earlier, they’d welcomed the ox carts; now they watched them depart. The courtyard emptied, the once-bustling space falling silent. Only scattered firecracker wrappers littered the entrance, while untouched dishes remained on the stove.

During the feast, the guests had departed with full bellies, while the hosts, caught up in their own busyness, hadn’t had a chance to eat. Now, they quickly reheated the food, each grabbing a bowl to finally have a proper meal.

Most of the hangover soup went into Huo Feng and Huo Ling’s stomachs. Ye Suping drank some too, forcing down a bowl that made her grimace at its sourness, but it did indeed quell the alcohol fumes.

With few people in the household, and since Huo Ling and Yan Qi weren’t exactly “newlyweds,” they didn’t hide indoors to avoid chatter. After eating, they rolled up their sleeves and helped tidy up until dusk fell.

Once the yard was swept clean, the Huo brothers carried the tables, chairs, and stools back to return them. Ye Suping and Yan Qi went inside to sort the gifts brought by the guests. Those with more distant ties gave more wedding money, while those closer to the family gave additional gifts alongside the money.

For instance, the Yang Qingsheng couple brought a bolt of fine cloth, two packets of premium candies, and a box of thick red wedding candles—the kind only sold in town. The total number was an auspicious figure: three pairs, six candles.

Yue Songbai’s family prepared three sets of gifts: one for his uncles, and one each for his two cousins. Though his younger cousin hadn’t attended, Yue Songbai, as the father, ensured his share was fully presented.

Combined, they contributed eight hundred wen, plus two bolts of cloth, two jars of fine wine, and a pair of large geese with their wings bound—truly a generous gift. Such offerings were comparable to the standard betrothal gifts given before a wedding in most households.

The village chief’s household lived comfortably, never short of money, and certainly wouldn’t lose face. The gift money was an auspicious sum, sufficiently respectable, along with another jar of wine, a chicken, and a box of pastries.

Setting aside the items, once all the gift money was counted, it was just as expected. Huo Ling had married late, and over the years, he’d only given out money. Now, he finally saw some return.

The money spent on the banquet not only covered the costs but even yielded a small profit.