After patching the roof in the morning, the siblings swept the entire house with a freshly made bamboo broom that afternoon before returning to the Yan residence to prepare for their move.

Upon arriving home, they ran into Yan Xiaobao.

Sitting at the entrance to the main hall, bowl of bean curd pudding in hand, Yan Xiaobao greeted them with a smug, gloating smile: “I heard you’re moving into the Yan family’s old house? Tsk tsk, how pitiful. That thatched hut hasn’t been lived in for years—it might collapse any day now! Well, who can blame you for acting crazy and opposing my parents all the time? Otherwise, you could still be living in my family’s big mansion!”

Yan Xiaoyu glanced at the bean curd in his hand and scoffed, “Your house may be big, but didn’t we live in a small, dilapidated thatched cottage too?”

“Hmph!” Yan Xiaobao was momentarily stumped. After a pause, he deliberately said, “Why are you staring at my bean curd? My big sister specially asked someone to bring this for me—no share for you!”

He held up the bowl triumphantly. “You’ve never had tofu pudding before, have you?”

“…” Was a measly bowl of tofu pudding really worth such a show-off? Yan Xiaoyu retorted irritably, “If I wanted this stuff, I could have as much as I wanted!”

As the words fell, Yan Xiaoyu’s eyes lit up with a new idea—his dream of starting a food business could begin with tofu!

After graduating from middle school, Yan Xiaoyu had sold stinky tofu at a street stall to earn money. To cut costs, he made the tofu himself—and it turned out surprisingly good.

Among the four surrounding villages, only the Qian family in Beiling Village knew how to make tofu. People from the other three villages had to buy theirs from the Qians.

The Qian family wasn’t just any family—they were the in-laws of Yan Xiaobao’s older sister, Yan Yongfang.

As a girl, Yan Yongfang had little standing in the Yan household, even sharing a thatched hut with Yan Xiaoyue. But after marrying Qian Hong, the Qian family’s only son, the attitude of Old Master Yan and the eldest son’s family toward her changed completely.

The Qian family opened a shop in town using a secret tofu-making recipe. After marrying Qian Hong, Yan Yongfang often sent money back to her family. Last year, when Yan Yonghe went to take the county exams, she sent five taels of silver.

The tofu business must be quite profitable; otherwise, the Qians wouldn’t be so generous.

Village households couldn’t afford meat, but they’d readily spend five wen on a block of tofu. Even the poorest families would ensure tofu or eggs graced their tables during festivals.

This business was viable!

Just as Yan Xiaoyu was deep in thought, Yan Xiaoyue tugged at her sleeve: “Xiaoyu, let’s go move things.”

He nodded. Moving house and the summer harvest were the most urgent matters now; everything else would have to wait. Yan Xiaoyu followed Yan Xiaoyue toward He Qiuhua’s room, hearing Yan Xiaobao’s sarcastic voice behind them.

“Talk is cheap. ‘Whatever you want, we’ve got it’—as you can even afford it?”

“I can’t afford it.” Yan Xiaoyu suddenly turned and walked up to Yan Xiaobao, letting out a cold laugh. “Then I’ll just eat yours.”

Yan Xiaobao’s smile froze. Terrified, he backed away while wailing, “Mother! Grandfather! Yan Xiaoyu is bullying me again!”

Tao Cuiqing rushed over upon hearing the commotion. Meeting Yan Xiaoyu’s icy glare, she turned and snapped, “Go inside and eat! Where did all the lessons your brother taught you go? Who do you think you are, getting into arguments with him?!”

Yan Xiaobao scurried back inside like a frightened quail.

Yan Xiaoyu rolled his eyes, ignoring them entirely.

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

While the siblings bustled about their new quarters that morning, Yan Xingmao and He Qiuhua weren’t idle either.

He Qiuhua gathered all four of their belongings together, thinking they could move straight in once Yan Xiaoyu and the others returned. Yan Xingmao, still unable to work the fields, helped pack up miscellaneous items.

Their entire household fit into one wooden crate, two bundles, some worn bowls and chopsticks, a wooden bucket, and a wooden basin. The most valuable item was an iron wok—purchased yesterday by Yan Xiaoyu while renting the townhouse. He Qiuhua treasured it like a precious jewel, carefully packing it into the wooden crate.

Before their departure, Old Master Yan came by several times to inspect, fearing they might take anything of value.

Yan Xingmao and He Qiuhua said nothing, letting him look. But Yan Xiaoyu wasn’t about to indulge him. Each time he came, he’d rush to the vegetable patch and the rice bin to gather extra greens and grains.

Old Master Yan was furious, but he couldn’t do anything about it. If he scolded him, Yan Xiaoyu would go outside and shout, calling the villagers to settle the matter.

All these vegetables were grown by He Qiuhua, her daughter, and the original body. By rights, they could take as much as they needed without being unreasonable. Arguing over this would only invite ridicule from the villagers. Yet Old Master Yan, fearing the second branch might gain favor, was stingy with anything the first branch needed.

Yan Xiaoyu took what he wanted with righteous indignation, even managing to take all of He Qiuhua’s pickled vegetables.

He borrowed a flatbed cart from Aunt He’s house and loaded Yan Xingmao and He Qiuhua’s only dowry item—that wooden chest—onto it. The rest of their belongings went into their baskets.

Yan Xiaoyue pulled the cart, He Qiuhua pushed from behind, while Yan Xiaoyu carried the two baskets.

Yan Xiaoyue bore the heaviest load. Though Yan Xiaoyu wanted to help, he simply couldn’t match his elder sister’s strength. Worried he might lose control of the cart and injure Yan Xingmao again, he settled for carrying the baskets.

The Yan family home lay in the village center. The journey to the mountain’s base took about a quarter of an hour. The village paths were uneven, and their new dwelling was perched high on the slope. Yan Xingmao’s injured leg couldn’t endure the jolting, forcing Yan Xiaoyue to stay tense the entire way. By the time they reached their destination and lowered Yan Xingmao down, sweat drenched her hair.

The family didn’t rest for a moment. While it was still early, they carried water to scrub the household items. Even Yan Xingmao, with his broken leg, sat and wiped down stools and tables.

Yan Xiaoyu and Yan Xiaoyue moved the large water jar from the kitchen and washed it three times, preparing to use it for storing water. The rim of the vat had a large chip, limiting its capacity to just over half full. Buying a new one would cost at least two or three hundred wen coins, so Yan Xiaoyu decided to make do with it for now.

With only two wooden buckets, the siblings took turns fetching water from the well south of the village. Carrying the same two buckets, Yan Xiaoyue strode swiftly and effortlessly, managing it even more easily than Yan Xiaoyu.

After cleaning the water tank and filling both buckets to the brim, they went up the mountain to gather a large bundle of firewood. Once the wood was neatly stacked, He Qiuhua insisted on taking over all their chores.

The siblings had labored from dawn’s first light until the sky was ablaze with sunset. Now exhausted and famished, He Qiuhua felt deeply for them. Together with Yan Xingmao, she took over Yan Xiaoyu’s cooking duties. The couple worked in perfect harmony—one tending the fire, the other preparing the meal.

Yan Xiaoyu and Yan Xiaoyue each pulled up a chair to cool off in the courtyard. The gentle summer evening breeze caressed them, seeming to wash away much of their physical weariness.

Having found a place to call home, he would no longer need to scheme against the eldest branch’s family. Yan Xiaoyu gazed up at the stars, feeling an extraordinary lightness in his heart.

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Yan Xiaoyue couldn’t sit still. After a short while, she rose to fetch water to replenish what He Qiuhua had used for cooking.

“Sister,” Yan Xiaoyu stopped her. “Rest a bit before you go.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Even if you’re not tired, rest a while,” Yan Xiaoyu said, patting her arm muscles with an envious look. “You’re truly built for martial arts training.”

Yan Xiaoyue’s face flushed crimson as she sulkily sat back down. ”None of the other girls is like me. Xiaobao says I’m stronger than a man, darker than an ox, and eat more than a pig.“

Yan Xiaoyu sat up straight, furious. ”So what! People wish they had your build! You’re perfect just the way you are! If that little brat Yan Xiaobao dares to bully you, one punch from you would knock him out! Don’t listen to that kid’s nonsense—he’s just jealous! Only enemies wish you were weak!“

”So what if you eat a lot? A hearty appetite is a blessing! So what if you’re dark-skinned? Dark skin is beautiful too!”

Every word he spoke came from the heart.

Yan Xiaoyue was actually quite delicate and pretty, though her frame was much larger than the average girl. Working the fields often had tanned her skin and built her physique sturdy—what modern folks might call a “muscle Barbie.” Her mother, He Qiuhua, was much the same.

Yan Xiaoyu envied her greatly. When he first entered the orphanage as a child, his small stature made him a frequent target of bullying. Even after growing up, he only reached just over five feet seven inches. His original body was about the same height as Yan Xiaoyu’s, and whether before or after the body swap, he never surpassed her in height.

His expression was sincere, but Yan Xiaoyue froze upon hearing it: “Really?”

Yan Xiaoyu nodded repeatedly, about to speak, when a voice interjected: “Brother Yu speaks the truth. You’re absolutely perfect just the way you are.”

The siblings turned their heads in unison toward the sound, spotting Yan Shaocheng standing by the courtyard gate.

Yan Xiaoyue’s cheeks flushed a shade deeper. Noticing her discomfort, Yan Shaocheng promptly averted his gaze. “I just returned and saw the gate open, so I thought I’d check if you needed any help. My apologies for interrupting your conversation.”

After seeing Yan Shaoxuan, Yan Shaocheng now seemed perfect in every way to Yan Xiaoyu.

How could brothers from the same mother be so different? Look at Yan Shaocheng—so polite! So insightful!

Yan Xiaoyu stood up, his eyes crinkling with a smile. “Don’t be so formal, Brother Yan. There’s no such thing as interrupting! I see you’re one of the few clear-sighted people in the village. It seems we’re on the same wavelength!”

“Everything’s settled at home. No need for help, thank you, Brother Yan.” He warmly welcomed Yan Shaocheng. “Have you eaten, Brother Yan? My mother’s preparing supper. If you haven’t eaten, why not join us?”

He Qiuhua, drawn by the commotion, also came out, stumbling over her words as she invited Yan Shaocheng to stay for dinner.

Yan Shaocheng politely declined, “Thank you, but I’ve already eaten out.”

After exchanging pleasantries, Yan Xiaoyu spotted the bamboo ladder under the eaves and hurriedly thanked him, “Thank you, Brother Yan, for bringing us the ladder. You’ve really gone out of your way.”

”A ladder?“ Yan Shaocheng froze for a moment before smiling knowingly. ”I didn’t bring it. I mentioned it yesterday, but I forgot in my rush this morning. I suppose Shaoxuan must have brought it over for you.”

Yan Xiaoyu’s expression froze.

He hadn’t expected Yan Shaoxuan to be so kind—he’d assumed he’d be reluctant to rent them the house.

But why, after helping them out, did he give him such a sour look? Yan Xiaoyu was thoroughly puzzled.