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Before Shen Linchuan could say a word, Xu Zhifan let out an exasperated “Ah! Qian Dazhi, why are you still snatching my work? Shen Linchuan just entrusted this job to me.”

Qian Dazhi waved his hand with a laugh, “It’s just that I have someone ready right here—near Jinshui Street.”

Shen Linchuan politely declined, “I don’t want to take advantage of you, but I’ve already entrusted this to Zhifan. Please don’t look for anyone else.” 

Xu Zhifan looked up smugly, “I told you so.”

He and Shen Linchuan were classmates who’d come all the way from Qinghe Town together—there was no way Qian Dazhi could snatch business away from his very best friend.

Qian Dazhi didn’t know what else to say. Shen Linchuan didn’t look down on him the way others did, but he was also quite wary of him—he was indeed a shrewd and perceptive man.

Qian Dazhi had always intended to be on good terms with Shen Linchuan; Shen Linchuan was far easier to get along with than Luo Qingshan. Ever since he’d given Luo Qingshan some silver last time, Luo Qingshan hadn’t given him a friendly look whenever they met—he’d likely long since labeled him as one of those scheming types. Still, Luo Qingshan hadn’t exactly been wrong about him.

The Qian family was one of the top grain merchants in Nanling Prefecture. As the young master of the Qian family, he naturally had no shortage of people vying for his favor. He’d gone to great lengths to pass the Xiucai examination precisely to break into the circle of the scholarly gentry—yet they looked down on him.

Many of the young masters traveling with him had purchased the title of “jiansheng” through donations—a title that sounded impressive but was nothing more than that; it certainly wouldn’t grant them entry into the circle of true scholars.

Qian Dazhi sat there for a while. Xu Zhifan had gotten a bit drunk again and kept rambling about how incredibly difficult the Bailu Academy was. Qian Dazhi listened from the side, feeling his every word, “You’re absolutely right. Just look at me—I’ve lost several jin of weight.”

Shen Linchuan chuckled. Xu Zhifan was quite clever, though he did tend to overemphasize the hardships. Shen Linchuan stood up to take his leave, leading the intoxicated Xu Zhifan out, while Qian Dazhi waved them off with a smile.

In the private room next door, the playboy who’d been dining with Qian Dazhi emerged, fanning himself. “Young Master Qian, they’re just a bunch of penniless Xiucai—how can they compare to your vast fortune? Why should we go out of our way to curry favor with them when they’re so unappreciative?”

Qian Dazhi shot him a cold glance. It was his business to curry favor with those scholars; these rich merchants’ sons who tagged along with him had no right to criticize him.

Seeing Qian Dazhi’s stern expression, the man stopped laughing. With a sly grin, he raised his hand and slapped his own face. “My bad, my bad. It’s my head that’s shaped like a butt.”

Someone inside called out, “Young Master Qian, hurry inside! Xiao Taohong, the singer, will be here soon. You lot are just a bunch of good-for-nothing, idle young men—Young Master Qian, on the other hand, actually passed the Xiucai exam with flying colors.”

The gentle smile Qian Dazhi had shown toward Shen Linchuan vanished from his face. When he wasn’t smiling, he exuded a certain imposing presence, and the teasing young masters dared not speak out of turn to him anymore.

Qian Dazhi snorted coldly. “What do you lot know? He’s the top-ranked scholar in Kaiping County—a title the entire county produces only twice every three years. In the future, who among them won’t be invited to the Flower Viewing Banquet?”

“So he’s the top scorer, is he? No wonder you, Young Master Qian, are being so polite to him.”

The crowd was filled with astonishment, and when the small palanquin, adorned with colorful ribbons, was carried over, the young gentlemen grew boisterous once more.

Qian Dazhi took a sip of wine. He’d lost several jin of weight and hired renowned scholars and Confucian masters to tutor him—only to finally gain admission to the Bailu Academy with great difficulty. Little did he know that his wealth wouldn’t get him far there; people still looked down on him. The path to building connections and climbing the social ladder was no easy one.

Shen Linchuan was a clever man, unlike those dull, pedantic scholars, but he was simply too perceptive. He saw right through Qian Dazhi’s intentions at a glance. He treated Qian Dazhi with great courtesy, but he treated everyone else that way too—and he was also afraid that if something happened to the Qian family in the future, it might drag him down with them.

To outsiders, the Qian family appeared to be in the full bloom of prosperity, but who knew that inside, the situation was already like pouring oil on a raging fire? Who could say when the flames might turn on them?

Shen Linchuan first walked Xu Zhifan home before turning back toward his own house. As he passed the Yan residence, he saw Luo Qingshan sitting in the courtyard copying a text, so Shen Linchuan simply continued on his way home.

Pushing open the door, he saw his Fulang holding a handful of corn to feed the chickens, his father trimming the mule’s hooves, and Dahuang chasing its own tail and nipping at it. Seeing this scene, Shen Linchuan’s heart warmed. He was already quite content with his life now, but it wasn’t enough—he wanted to ensure his family’s lasting peace and stability.

Shen Linchuan thought back to the minor official who had once driven them away, as well as the Sun family’s rowdy servants—people who, relying on a little power, had arbitrarily oppressed ordinary folk.

Zhou Ning smiled at Shen Linchuan when she saw him return. “You’re back.”

“I’m back.”

Shen Linchuan walked over, scooped up a handful of corn, and tossed the kernels one by one into the chicken coop just for fun, causing the chickens inside to scramble for them. Some even spread their wings and began pecking at one another.

Zhou Ning gently tapped Shen Linchuan’s hand. “Don’t tease them.”

Shen Linchuan chuckled and only then tossed all the corn kernels he was holding into the coop. His fulang treasured these chickens above all else, tending to them with great care every day. As a result, the flock had grown plump and round, their feathers beautiful and glossy.

“Uncle, Uncle!”

Shen Linchuan looked toward the gate and saw an oxcart parked there, piled high with trunks and baskets. The two little ones were sitting up front, their eyes crinkling with laughter. Shen Linchuan’s heart leapt with joy. “Eldest Brother, Eldest Sister-in-law.”

Zhou Ning also hurriedly set down the gourd dipper he was holding to go greet them. Shen Hu-zi had been in high spirits the whole way; now that they’d arrived, his eyes were darting around curiously as he hopped down from the cart, holding onto the frame for support.

Zhou Ning happily helped Shen Xiaoyu down. “Were you tired on the trip? Come inside and have some water.”

Zhou Da was also delighted to see the two little ones; he couldn’t stop smiling as he patted each of them on the head. “Grandpa Zhou thought you’d be coming over any day now, so he bought you some ‘xituan.’ All the kids in the county seat love them.”

“Xituan” refers to rice that’s been stir-fried in fine sand until fluffy, sifted through a sieve, mixed with sugar syrup, then rolled into balls between two split bamboo strips, and finally marked with a red dot. Here, people call them “Xituan.” Many street vendors sell them from their shoulder poles—two for one wen—and children love them most of all.

When Zhou Da went for a stroll in the street, he saw quite a few preteens gathered around the peddler’s stall, each clutching a snow-white rice ball in their hands. Thinking that the two little ones from the Shen family would be arriving in the next few days, he bought a whole basketful in one go.

The courtyard became even livelier. Shen Linchuan pitched in to help unload the luggage, while Zhou Da led the two little ones off to get the “xituan,” and Zhou Ning hopped into the chicken coop and pulled out a big, plump chicken.

Although Zhou Ning cherished his chickens dearly, he wasn’t the least bit stingy about sharing them with his family—after all, he raised them for their own consumption.

The once-quiet courtyard grew even livelier. Their rented courtyard had an eastern side room, which Zhou Ning had tidied up early that morning. Whenever the sun was out, he’d bring the bedding out to air it, eagerly awaiting his brother and sister-in-law’s arrival.

Shen Linchuan was also bustling about, pouring water and bringing out some snacks. “Brother and Sister-in-law, have a little something to tide you over. You must not have eaten or slept well on the journey. I’ll go cook dinner.”

Shen Dage gave a soft “Hmm, we’re all family here—just whip up something simple.”

“Got it, Shen Dage.”

Zhou Ning had already cleaned and chopped up the rooster, and Shen Linchuan rolled up his sleeves to help. Since they’d been living on dry rations the whole way, they decided to prepare some dishes with broth.

With the four members of the Shen family now gathered, the courtyard was filled with the joy of their reunion.

They added soybean paste to the large iron pot on the earthen stove, then poured in the cleaned chicken pieces. The splattering oil sizzled as the lid clanged shut. The firewood beneath burned brightly, and soon the aroma of stewing chicken wafted out.

Next door, Old Old Lady Song was sitting in her courtyard, playing with her leaf-shaped playing cards. She’d just heard the sounds of children playing at the Zhou family’s house next door, and now the aroma of stewed chicken was wafting over. Old Old Lady Song couldn’t help but curl her lip. “Those country bumpkins sure do live the good life.”

In the kitchen, Mr. Song was wiping sweat from his brow as he cooked. Old Lady Song looked at her son-in-law with disdain. “I tell you, you’re not even as good as that Zhou family’s Fulang. He can even sell steamed corn buns, but all you know how to do is wash clothes and cook. You can’t even lay an egg. What on earth did the Song family marry you for?”

Old Lady Song grew angrier and angrier as she spoke, her voice rising louder and louder, so loud that the neighbors next door could hear every word clearly.

Shen Xiaoyu was snuggled up against his mother, munching on a rice cake, when he heard Old Lady Song’s loud outburst. “Mom, can people lay eggs?” 

Shen Dasao covered her son’s ears. “You heard wrong. Just eat your rice cake.”

Even Shen Linchuan, who was busy in the kitchen, heard it. He called Shen Xiaoyu over: “Xiaoyu, come here. Your uncle roasted some chestnuts for you.”

Shen Xiaoyu didn’t ask any further questions; he took off running over.

Zhou Ning played with Shen Xiaoyu for a while, but worried it was too hot in the kitchen, so he brought the child out. “Shen Linchuan, I’m going to the market to buy some cold jelly.” 

“Okay, come back soon—it’ll be time for dinner in a little while.”

Zhou Ning led the two little ones out. Shen Dasao was worried Zhou Ning wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on both of them by himself, so she went along too. The little boy was fine, but Shen Hu-zi was an exceptionally mischievous little rascal—with the market so crowded, they’d have to keep a close watch on him.

As they passed by the Song family next door, Old Lady Song happened to look up toward the doorway. “The Zhou family’s children are certainly well-built,” she thought. “Look at that little boy—he’s got a sturdy, robust build.”

Seeing Shen Hu-zi only made Old Lady Song even more irritable, and she seized the opportunity to berate her in-law again, blaming him for not giving her a grandson.

Old Lady Song’s tirade left Song Fulang too afraid to retort. Shen Linchuan could hear every word clearly from the kitchen. He didn’t meddle in the Song family’s affairs, but Old Lady Song was far too loud—her foul language was truly annoying to listen to.

Shen Linchuan shook his head in the kitchen, deftly cracked a few eggs, peeled some salted duck eggs, and boiled some baby bok choy in broth. He took special care to strip the Chinese cabbage down to just the inner core, then set to work with both hands.

Their house was close to the market, so it wasn’t long before Zhou Ning and the others returned. The two younger children were carrying quite a few snacks, and Zhou Ning’s basket was also filled with goodies.

Shen Dasao felt quite embarrassed. “Why did you buy such expensive things?” 

“We haven’t had beef in a long time. I bought a piece so everyone could have a taste.”

As they passed the Song family’s house, Old Lady Song was sitting on the threshold of the front gate. Seeing Zhou Ning and the others return, she made a point of greeting them: “Zhou Fulang, you’re back.”

Zhou Ning replied briefly but said little else. Even though he’d been here for so long, this was the first time Old Lady Song had ever greeted him. He didn’t really want to acknowledge her—since she spent every day at home berating people—and her sudden greeting made him feel uneasy.

Zhou Ning carried the basket into the kitchen. There was a shop on Jinshui Street that specialized in beef; their plain-boiled beef was exceptionally flavorful. If you brought your own bowl, they’d even give you a bowl of clear beef broth for free—a real bargain.

He’d left in such a hurry this time that he used a bowl from the shop for now; he’d return it in a little while. “You bought beef? Perfect—then I won’t have to stir-fry anything.”

Shen Linchuan sliced up the beef and prepared a dipping sauce to go with it. He’d also cooked some vegetables in the beef broth. “Come on, let’s eat.”

The two families sat together in the house, eating in a lively atmosphere. Xiaoyu loved rice soaked in beef broth, so Zhou Ning served him a generous portion. Shen Xiaoyu picked up his spoon and began eating big mouthfuls.

Shen Hu-zi, sitting nearby, was already quite adept with his chopsticks. He’d pick out whatever he wanted to eat on his own. With a large chicken drumstick in his bowl, he gnawed on it until his face was covered in sauce and his cheeks bulged. As he ate, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Shen Dasao gently scolded him, “Shen Hu-zi, eat properly—you’re getting your clothes dirty.”

Shen Hu-zi chuckled, “Second Uncle’s cooking is delicious.”

Shen Dasao took out a handkerchief and wiped Shen Hu-zi’s face. “Eat a little slower.”

She then turned to Zhou Ning, who was sitting beside her, and joked, “Boys just aren’t as easy to raise as gers. Xiaoyu’s been a good kid since he was little, but Hu-zi—that kid’s hands have never been clean.”

Shen Dasao shook her head as she spoke, watching the two little ones eat heartily. Everyone at the table was smiling; both children were well-behaved, and the sight of them eating was truly endearing.

After dinner, Zhou Ning and Shen Dasao boiled a pot of hot water. Taking advantage of the warm weather, they gave both little ones a bath. After all that traveling, they could finally rest their feet.

The whole family sat in the courtyard chatting idly, and the two little ones dragged their small stools over to sit on one side. Their hair dried in no time. Shen Xiaoyu was especially clingy with Zhou Ning; while the adults talked, he sat leaning against Zhou Ning, and before long, his little head bobbed down bit by bit until he fell asleep on Zhou Ning’s lap.

Zhou Ning froze for a moment. With a fuzzy little head resting on his knee, he was afraid of waking Shen Xiaoyu, so he gently tugged at Shen Linchuan’s sleeve. Shen Linchuan looked over, puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

Zhou Ning pointed to the little one on his lap. Shen Xiaoyu was sitting in the sun, letting his hair free; his hair was already dry, and his little face was rosy from the sun.

Shen Linchuan chuckled. “He’s fallen asleep.”

Shen Dasao looked over as well. “Shen Xiaoyu’s asleep, huh? He didn’t sleep well at all on the way here. I’ll take him inside.” Shen Dasao picked up Shen Xiaoyu and carried him into the house. Shen Hu-zi was also feeling drowsy from the sun. “Mom, I’m sleepy too.” 

“Come on, go get some sleep.”

Shen Hu-zi followed her into the house. Only after Shen Dasao had tucked the two little ones in did she come back out. The four adults sat in the courtyard chatting idly. Shen Dage let out an “Oh. We still haven’t found a storefront yet. I thought Zhou Da, you’d already settled into your shop.”

Zhou Da waved his hand. “It’s hard to find. Shops on Jinshui Street are in high demand—there aren’t any vacancies. We’ll just have to look in areas a little further out.”

Pork shops aren’t usually located right in the middle of a bustling market. Slaughtering pigs is loud—it disturbs the neighbors and annoys people. You need a spot that’s both quiet and lively, which makes it really hard to find.

Shen Linchuan added, “I’ve already asked someone to look into the shop—we should find one soon. Brother and Sister-in-law, I’ve already inquired about the schools in this area, and there are some suitable ones.”

Shen Linchuan suggested two schools. He and Zhou Ning had been making inquiries in their spare time. Since they lived in Baobao Alley, not far from Bailu Academy, there were quite a few private schools run by scholars nearby. The two of them had selected a few suitable options and shared them with Shen Dage and his wife.

Shen Dage nodded as he listened. “It’ll be easy to find a school for Hu-zi, but we’ll have to look carefully for one for Xiaoyu—we can’t let the child settle for less.”

“You’re right, Brother. I’ve inquired about those three schools for gers and girls. Among them, Qing’s school is the best, though it’s also the most expensive. The curriculum is quite comprehensive—in addition to reading and writing, they teach the children practical skills for making a living, such as embroidery, cooking, the tea ceremony, chess, and musical instruments. It’s just a bit pricey.”

Shen Dasao was tempted by this and grew even more convinced that Miss Qing’s school was the best. She recalled her own childhood, when she’d never even touched a book and didn’t recognize a single character, having been forced to learn household chores from a young age. Now, her son could learn so many things and even find a way to make a living.

“Xiaoyu’s father, let’s send our son to Miss Qing’s school. If it’s expensive, so be it—we’ll just have to earn a little more silver.” 

Shen Dage nodded. “How much is the annual tuition for the ger school?”

“Twenty taels a year.”

Shen Dasao gasped at the price—twenty taels was indeed expensive; even four taels of silver was enough to feed a person for a whole year.

But there was a reason for the high cost. Shen Dasao was relieved that Xiaoyu’s father had saved a hundred or two taels of silver last year, so they could still afford this school. She said firmly, “Let’s do it. If we’re going to send him, let’s send him to this good one. If we send him to a lesser school, we’ll inevitably have regrets later.”

Shen Dage gave a nod. “All right, then. Tomorrow, the two of us will take the kids to check it out.”

Shen Linchuan also had the day off tomorrow, so he decided to tag along. The four adults and two children set off together. Although the two little ones had already been to the market once, they were still brimming with curiosity as they went out again, craning their necks to look this way and that.

Shen Dasao had also gotten up early to dress the two little ones in their finest cotton clothes; though simple, they were all neat and clean.

Shen Hu-zi’s hair was tied back with a blue cloth headband, while Shen Xiaoyu’s hair was specially tied into two small buns with red silk—round and plump, looking utterly adorable.