However weak Shen Linchuan might be, he was still a man. He immediately kicked the machete free. Zhang Xiaoyi rolled his eyes nearby. No wonder the villagers said Ning-ger’s man wasn’t up to par.

Shen Linchuan finally got to work, swinging the machete steadily. Soon, the bamboo groan under the blows, creaking as if about to snap. “Ning-ger, watch out, it’s about to fall!”

Zhou Ning stepped aside, pulling the gawking Zhang Xiaoyi with him to safety.

Shen Linchuan shifted his stance and kicked twice. The bamboo crashed down with a clatter. Finding the spectacle dull, Zhang Xiaoyi pouted and walked off, not forgetting to pick up a few of the peeled bamboo shoots he’d prepared and hand them to Zhou Ning. “Take these home to stir-fry.”

Zhou Ning hadn’t brought a basket, so he scooped them up with the corner of his sleeve. Zhang Xiaoyi, basket in hand, strolled off leisurely.

Shen Linchuan was drenched in sweat. “Ning-ger, let’s go.”

“Let’s cut one more. We don’t want to come back later if we run out.”

“Alright.”

As Shen Linchuan moved to cut another bamboo, Zhou Ning had already placed the bamboo shoots from his sleeve onto the grass pile. He casually took the machete, “Let me do it. You rest.”

Before Shen Linchuan could respond, Zhou Ning bent down and swiftly chopped the bamboo down in no time. Shen Linchuan watched in stunned silence. Impressive—truly worthy of being his Fulang!

No, this physique was simply too frail. How could a country bumpkin develop such delicate stamina? He needed more training.

He planned to pursue the imperial examinations path. The prefectural and provincial exams would last days on end. If his constitution was too weak, he wouldn’t even make it out of the examination hall. That simply wouldn’t do.

Two felled bamboo poles were enough to fence a chicken coop. Zhou Ning gathered the bamboo shoots scattered on the ground, tucking them into his sleeve, then hauled the poles away with one hand. Shen Linchuan dragged another pole behind him, growing ever more impressed by his Fulang’s strength.

Remember, this man once carried me without even breaking a sweat!

The moment they emerged from the bamboo grove, they encountered Zhou Xiaonan picking wild greens by the roadside. Spotting Ning-ger, Xiaonan steeled himself and greeted him, “Ning-ger, off to cut bamboo?”

“Ah, this is my husband, Shen Linchuan. You met him a couple of days ago when we got married.” Worried Shen Linchuan might not know anyone in their village yet, Zhou Ning introduced him further: “This is Zhou Xiaonan, from our same clan.”

Zhou Xiaonan gave Shen Linchuan an awkward half-smile. “Hello, brother.”

Shen Linchuan gave him a casual glance and nodded briefly in acknowledgment.

His memory was sharp. During today’s commotion at Granny Diao’s house, though the crowd was large, he recalled Zhou Xiaonan being among them. The boy should have been home—his house was right next to Granny Diao’s. How could he not have known about Ning-ger’s debt collection, yet deliberately shut the door?

Zhou Xiaonan felt a pang of guilt at Shen Linchuan’s earlier glance. He fidgeted with his fingers, unsure what to say.

Shen Linchuan was dragging a heavy bamboo pole. He said to Zhou Ning, “Ning-ger, let’s go. This bamboo is awfully heavy.”

As the two dragged the bamboo away, Zhou Xiaonan finally breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, Shen Lichuan hadn’t brought up the debt. If he had copper coins, he would have paid back immediately. But his younger brother wanted to eat meat, so he had borrowed some. His family’s life… well.

Shen Lichuan chatted with Zhou Ning as they walked. “So those two ger you met today are your friends?”

“Same village. I’m three or four years older than Yi-ger and Nan-ger.”

Shen Linchuan hummed in acknowledgment. They must have played together as children—being from the same village, they’d naturally know each other.

He recalled what his father had told him on the eve of his wedding: his Fulang had been too busy working as a child to have many playmates. Yi and Nan were several years younger, so they couldn’t really count as friends.

As for that Zhou Xiaonan, well, whatever his reason for hiding today, Shen Linchuan wasn’t the kind to be heartless. He wouldn’t shut his Fulang out like that.

That Yi-ger seemed quite protective of his Fulang, though his tongue was sharp. Still, he and his Fulang got along well enough.

Back home, Shen Linchuan was drenched in sweat. Seeing his Fulang remain unflustered, Zhou Ning loosened his grip. The thick bamboo clattered to the floor, and Shen Linchuan tossed the bamboo he’d dragged back down as well.

Zhou Ning eyed Shen Lichuan strangely. Shen Lichuan wiped his sweat nervously—was he being dismissed as useless?

“Ning-ger, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Zhou Ning turned and headed into the kitchen. His throat felt dry, and he swallowed involuntarily. His mind drifted back to what he’d just seen: Shen Lichuan, a scholar who never worked the fields, was naturally fairer than him. Now, flushed from the heat, his cheeks were a vivid crimson, like the fresh peach blossoms on the back mountain—strangely beautiful.

So what if he was weak? He and his father had plenty of strength between them. They could easily support Shen Lichuan. Besides, Shen Lichuan was handsome. When they had children someday, if a ger took after Shen Lichuan, he’d surely be a looker.

Zhou Ning poured water, drinking a bowl himself before offering another to Shen Lichuan. Shen Linchuan hadn’t expected his usually straightforward Fulang to be so thoughtful today. “Thanks.”

Zhou Ning felt his throat go dry again at Shen Linchuan’s smile. “You’re welcome.”

Shen Linchuan set his bowl aside after drinking, grabbed a machete, and began whittling off the bamboo branches. Zhou Ning fetched another machete to help. Working together, they made quick progress—cutting the bamboo into uniform lengths before splitting them into strips.

Zhou Ning, accustomed to farm work, split the bamboo strips swiftly and neatly. Shen Lichuan, clumsy and inept, kept messing up, so Zhou Ning told him to just rest for a bit.

Shen Lichuan didn’t want to struggle with the bamboo anymore. He grabbed a shovel to dig a hole, intending to bury the strips to make a fence.

After half a day of hard work, they finally enclosed the chicken coop. It took some effort to round up all five chickens. Shen Lichuan found scissors and clipped their feathers—the bamboo fence was only a little over a meter tall, and without clipped feathers, the chickens would surely fly away.

By the time they finished, the sun was already setting. Shen Linchuan hadn’t rested all day—starting with fetching water, then collecting debts, and finally building the fence. He was genuinely feeling exhausted.

After washing his hands, he prepared to cook. “Ning-ger, what would you like to eat?”

“Whatever.”

Just as he spoke, Zhou Ning paused. “Father left two pork kidneys. I’ll stir-fry them for you.”

Shen Linchuan’s breath caught. Except for the first night being a bit quick, hadn’t he tried really hard the second night? Could it be that Ning-ger thought he wasn’t good enough?

Shen Linchuan shed two tears as thick as noodles. Had he failed to satisfy his Fulang?

Though not seven times in one night, they had managed three times last night. No, three times wasn’t enough—five times it would be!

Shen Linchuan had truly misunderstood Zhou Ning. Zhou Ning feared they’d exhausted themselves too much on their wedding night. He thought Shen Linchuan was already weaker than him, and if they pushed too hard, it wouldn’t be good. He wanted to nourish him properly—wouldn’t that help conceive a child sooner?

He didn’t particularly relish these bedtime affairs—they were uncomfortable and painful—but for the sake of conceiving, he endured.

With few family members and Shen Linchuan’s striking good looks, Zhou Ning hoped to give the household two more beautiful children. That way, the home would be lively, and his father would be pleased.

Zhou Ning headed into the kitchen to start the fire for cooking. Shen Linchuan followed him in. Since it was for his own sustenance, he might as well prepare it himself. Seeing Zhou Ning had already taken out the pig kidneys, Shen Linchuan reached out and snatched them. “I’ll cook these. “

If these pork kidneys weren’t prepared properly, they’d be foul and stinky. He certainly didn’t want to eat that. Prepared well, they were delicious; done poorly, he couldn’t bring himself to eat them.

”Alright, I’ll tend the fire for you. These pork kidneys are expensive. I specifically asked Father to save them for you.”

Zhou Ning explained, wanting Shen Linchuan to know he meant well—specifically to fortify him. But to Shen Linchuan’s ears, it sounded like: You’re weak, so here’s some kidney to fortify you. Even our dad knows…

Shen Linchuan felt like crying. Not only would he have to carry water from now on—and in much larger quantities!—but he’d also have to learn martial arts from his father. A real man couldn’t be weak!

Shen Linchuan washed the pork kidneys. The white part inside was disgustingly pungent—he had to cut it off, or the dish would taste awful. He sliced the kidneys first horizontally, then vertically into neat kidney slices. Some leftover wine from the recent family celebration was perfect for marinating them and removing the odor.

Zhou Ning was steaming rice nearby. Watching Shen Linchuan add wine to the cooking seemed odd—would it even taste good? But Shen Linchuan cooked better than he did. Though pork kidneys were nourishing, he didn’t care for them. If they turned out gamey, he’d just leave them all for Shen Linchuan to eat—he’d worked hard tonight.

While the pork liver was marinating, Shen Linchuan sliced some pork belly. That ger had also given him some bamboo shoots, so he planned to braise the pork belly with bamboo shoots later.

“Ning-ger, could you cut me a bunch of chives? And if there are any spinach leaves left, pull those too.”

“Got it.”

Zhou Ning went out to gather the greens. These vegetables had been planted during the New Year season—just spinach and chives—and there wasn’t much left to eat. It was time to plant spring vegetables. Shen Linchuan said he wanted to buy seeds to plant, so he’d head to town the next day to look.

The pot was heated over a high flame until the lard sizzled. Shen Linchuan tossed in the pork belly, stir-frying until the fat rendered. He added some ginger to cut the gaminess, then poured in the blanched bamboo shoots. The aroma wafted far and wide.

Zhou Ning came over to help wash and chop vegetables. The two worked together with surprising ease.

“What’s cooking? I could smell it before I even reached the door.”

Zhou Da pushed his wheelbarrow back home. The aroma drew him toward the kitchen, where he spotted his ger and his son-in-law bustling around the stove. Zhou Da felt deeply gratified. Shen Linchuan was the one cooking—marriage had truly made him more responsible, unlike those first days when he’d been cursing up a storm.

Shen Linchuan greeted him with a smile, “Father’s back. How was business?”

“Pretty good, pretty good. A house steward ordered a whole pork leg today. Business was decent.”

“That’s good. Rest up, Father. Dinner’ll be ready soon.”

“Alright, alright.”

Zhou Da rubbed his hands together at the doorway, feeling more and more convinced he’d chosen a good son-in-law. He’d never seen a man in any other family step into the kitchen. Scholars might preach that gentlemen keep their distance from the cooking, but his son-in-law didn’t bother with such formalities. Watching him these past few days, he could tell he truly cared for his Fulang. That was all Zhou Da needed to feel at ease.

“Oh, right—tomorrow’s the return visit. I’m not sure what to buy. I hear wine and meat are essential for such occasions. We’ve plenty of meat at home—just go ahead and cut some. I bought two jars of wine today, and two packets of pastries too. We’ve chickens as well—just grab one, no need to buy. You two should head back early tomorrow morning.”

Shen Linchuan kept flipping through the dishes. “Father, we don’t need all this.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. We have meat and chicken at home. Just take what you need.”

Zhou Da feared bringing too little would invite scorn. As a scholar who had married into the family, he dreaded gossip that might upset Shen Linchuan. That’s why he insisted on packing generous gifts for the visit to the Shen household.

Shen Linchuan nodded. He recalled that even the village’s newlywed ger hadn’t brought this much during their three-day return visits.

For families slightly better off, two pounds of meat, a jar of wine, and some rice or peanuts from their own fields were considered generous gifts.

Those less fortunate might only bring homegrown melons or fruits. But here he was, being told to bring meat and chickens—gifts nearly matching the dowry given on the day of the betrothal.

How could the Zhou family father and son be so genuinely kind-hearted? If he were a bad person, sweet-talking and flattering them, he’d eventually drain their entire fortune. No wonder the original owner had caused the Zhou family such misery back then.

Now that Ning-ger was his Fulang and Zhou Da was his father, he naturally had to protect them. No one would be allowed to bully them.

Shen Linchuan soon served up the stir-fried dishes: pork belly with bamboo shoots, leeks with pork kidneys, and a pork liver and spinach soup. All three dishes featured meat, making this feast richer than what even the poorest families ate during the New Year.

As the old saying goes, ‘The carpenter’s house has no benches, the tailor wears no new clothes, the oil seller’s wife combs her hair with water, and the basket maker’s house has sun-dried grain.’ The more one has, the more reluctant they are to part with it. The Zhou family, being butchers, were likely so frugal that they wouldn’t even treat themselves to meat. Unlike them, Shen Linchuan and Zhou Ning ate freely, unconcerned with the cost.

Cooking ran late today—preparing that chicken coop took time. By the time the dishes were stir-fried, though the sky hadn’t fully darkened, the room had grown dim. Shen Linchuan carried the dishes to the main hall table, and Zhou Ning lit an oil lamp to place in the center.

Each had a bowl of rice, two dishes, and a soup. The dim light made it hard for Zhou Da to see what the dishes were. He picked up his chopsticks and started eating. Zhou Ning wanted to say something, but seeing his father didn’t seem to find it unpalatable, he kept quiet.