On the way back from the county office, Yan Xiaoyu and Yan Shaoxuan sat in Niu Fugui’s oxcart, both silent and somewhat distracted.

Earlier, he’d been too preoccupied with official business to dwell on it, but now, recalling how he had slept in Yan Shaoxuan’s arms the entire journey, Yan Xiaoyu felt genuinely embarrassed.

Yan Shaoxuan had been the one to embrace him—it was impossible to imagine otherwise.

Back when he’d mistaken Yan Shaoxuan’s intentions, the young master had issued countless overt and covert “warnings,” clearly afraid he might develop feelings.

Their relationship had improved somewhat now, earned through Yan Xiaoyu’s tireless efforts of sending him food, but he dared not overstep.

When he woke up, his entire upper body was nestled in Yan Shaoxuan’s embrace, his arm still wrapped around the other’s waist. Likely the carriage’s jostling had caused him to fall onto Yan Shaoxuan after drifting off, and the other, being thin-skinned, hadn’t had the heart to push him away.

Yan Shaoxuan’s face was flushed crimson, likely mortified to the point of death—truly putting him in an awkward position.

Yan Xiaoyu felt terribly guilty and hadn’t dared look at Yan Shaoxuan the entire journey.

Upon reaching the village, they dismounted the oxcart and walked together toward the mountain’s base. Yan Shaoxuan strode ahead confidently, while Yan Xiaoyu kept his head bowed, trailing behind him slowly and hesitantly.

As they approached a secluded path, Yan Shaoxuan abruptly stopped. Caught off guard, Yan Xiaoyu collided headfirst into his back.

“Ouch!” he cried, clutching his forehead.

“Are you okay?” Yan Shaoxuan snapped back, his hand hovering mid-air before dropping awkwardly.

Yan Xiaoyu stared at him for a moment before suddenly laughing. “Hehe, I’m fine!”

Yan Shaoxuan’s expression froze, then his lips curved upward involuntarily.

The indescribable, subtle atmosphere between them was suddenly shattered.

Yan Xiaoyu scratched his head. “Second Brother Yan, you know how I am. Today, I’m just being myself. Don’t take it to heart.”

Here we go again! How could he not take it to heart? Yan Shaoxuan hastily averted his gaze, his face flushing as he murmured, “Your feelings… I understand them all.”

“Good!”

Yan Xiaoyu relaxed, stepping forward to walk beside him. Lost in thought about Ji Wenyuan and the eatery near the county school, he remained silent.

Yan Shaoxuan stared straight ahead, walking with solemn composure, but stole several glances at him. After a long while, he finally found a topic to broach.

“Where did you learn martial arts?”

He’d been wanting to ask this for ages.

Yan Xiaoyu taking on two opponents alone and leaving Wang Ergou and Yan Xiaobao in such a state didn’t seem like something sheer strength alone could achieve. After all, Wang and Yan had come prepared—bringing drugged pills, ropes, and clubs. Though the pills were fake, they’d clearly come ready for action.

Yet Yan Xiaoyu had knocked them both to the ground with just a single pole. When Yan Shaoxuan arrived, the two weren’t even bound. If it were merely brute strength without martial arts training, they wouldn’t have been so careless.

Then there was the earlier tree-climbing, leaping down from the tree, and the bamboo ladder—this young fellow moved with extraordinary agility. Yan Shaoxuan had been puzzled by this all along.

Lost in thought, Yan Xiaoyu froze at the question before explaining, “Yan Yonghe had a martial arts manual he rarely looked at, just sitting on his bookshelf. I spotted it while tidying his room. Curiosity got the better of me, so I secretly studied it. Never imagined it’d actually come in handy.”

Yan Shaoxuan was somewhat surprised, his disbelief lingering. “You can read? You know how to recognize characters?”

“I recognize some characters, but not all of them.”

Yan Xiaoyu had prepared for these questions and answered them calmly and without hesitation.

“Aunt Yan taught Yan Xiaobao characters every day, even having him copy his grandfather’s calligraphy. But Yan Xiaobao was slow and never got the hang of it. He grew impatient and often forced me to write for him. Over time, I picked it up.”

Yan Shaoxuan nodded, seeming to believe him.

Yan Xiaoyu breathed a sigh of relief.

It was true he’d picked up a few characters through Yan Xiaobao, though limited to parts of the Thousand Character Classic—this explanation was half-truth, half-fiction.

As for learning martial arts, that was entirely Yan Xiaoyu’s fabrication.

Yan Yonghe’s house held no such book. Yan Xiaoyu’s martial arts skills came from the security captain at the orphanage before his journey through time.

The security captain was the director’s husband. Both were kind people, but with so many children in the orphanage—many physically or mentally impaired—normal children like Yan Xiaoyu rarely received much attention. The security captain had never intended to teach the children martial arts.

It was after a young boy from the orphanage was adopted and nearly sexually assaulted by his adoptive father that the security chief resolved to teach the children self-defense.

That couple had originally intended to adopt Yan Xiaoyu.

That boy used underhanded tactics to snatch the opportunity meant for Yan Xiaoyu, never imagining he’d nearly bring ruin upon himself.

His ordeal left a deep shadow on Yan Xiaoyu. Later, when the security captain offered to teach them martial arts, Yan Xiaoyu responded with the most enthusiasm and practiced with the greatest diligence.

He would later use these skills to avenge himself.

He was twelve then, just starting seventh grade, when he encountered the boy who had beaten him during his illness at age five.

That youth had since been adopted, but his vicious nature remained unchanged. Upon reuniting with Yan Xiaoyu, he bragged about his orphan status throughout the school and plotted with others to bully Yan Xiaoyu.

Yan Xiaoyu had never forgiven the boy for what happened when he was five. When the bully crossed him again, he showed no mercy, beating him severely.

One beating was enough to scare him off for good.

The boy hadn’t fared well after being adopted either. Still craving the warmth his adoptive parents offered, he dared not go home to complain after Yan Xiaoyu’s beating.

From then on, he avoided Yan Xiaoyu wherever he went.

Because of that fight, Yan Xiaoyu became notorious at school, earning the infamous title of “school bully.” This meant he barely made any friends during his three years of middle school.

Later, he developed a vague crush on one of the flag bearers in the national flag team.

He found himself glancing at them more often during Monday flag-raising ceremonies, which led to rumors that he was eyeing their position. The flag bearer sensibly left the national flag team.

At the time, he thought that his classmate was pretty, but looking back now, he couldn’t recall her features at all. She paled in comparison to the stunning impression Yan Shaoxuan had made when they first met.

Nor was he as clever as Yan Shaoxuan.

Thinking of this, Yan Xiaoyu flashed Yan Shaoxuan another ingratiating smile.

“Second Brother Yan, next time you go to the county seat, could you ask about the shops around the county school? How much rent do they charge monthly?”

Yan Shaoxuan glanced at him. “Sure.”

 ━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

The day after returning from the county office was Mid-Autumn Festival.

This was their first festival since the family split, and everyone took it very seriously.

Yan Xiaoyu began making mooncakes days in advance—egg yolk, lotus seed paste, red bean paste, sesame salt, pork… Many flavors were new to Yan Xingmao and the others.

After baking, he delivered several to families they were close with, with the Yan brothers receiving the most.

Ji Wenyan received his box because, after tasting them at the Yan household, he had praised them highly, prompting Yan Xiaoyu to send him some.

The moon cakes eaten by villagers during the Mid-Autumn Festival were all homemade, plain and unadorned, nowhere near as exquisite or delicious as Yan Xiaoyu’s creations.

After Yan Xiaoyu distributed his moon cakes, they earned him much praise.

After her two children tasted Yan Xiaoyu’s mooncakes, they refused to eat any others. Aunt He even planned to take some of the mooncakes back to her parents’ home.

Uncle Li also received a box. For helping Yan Xiaoyu borrow an oxcart once, he earned several treats from her, making many in the village envy him.

Forget the tofu and bean curd pudding from before—this box of mooncakes alone used premium fillings! Buying them at the town pastry shop would cost at least one hundred wen!

That day, Uncle Li had helped Yan Xiaoyu with the trip, delaying his own farmwork. His husband had grumbled a bit, but now he praised Uncle Li for his foresight and ability to recognize talent.

With his precedent set, villagers were now far more willing to lend a hand whenever Yan Xiaoyu and his family needed assistance. Even Yan Xingmao and He Qiuhua found that the villagers treated them differently when they went out.

Beyond treats like mooncakes, Yan Xiaoyu’s family also solemnly donned new clothes for the festival. 

This time, buying cloth and making clothes, He Qiuhua and Yan Xingmao didn’t feel the slightest bit of regret about spending the silver.

Yan Xiaoyu’s tofu business had been running for about two months. Now, the daily income was roughly stable at fifty copper coins and forty jin of soybeans, with the cost being three jin of soybeans and five copper coins worth of gypsum.

With four people working together, fifty wen a day might not sound like much, but soybeans could be sold for profit!

Ji Wenyan saw them collecting a few dozen wen, unaware of the dozens of catties of beans—the bulk of their income.

At five wen per catty of soybeans, their daily earnings amounted to roughly two hundred and twenty wen.

The math was startling: over these two months, the Yan Xiaoyu household had earned roughly thirteen taels of silver.

Household expenses and Yan Xingmao’s medicine costs consumed six taels. The silver received during the family division also had six taels remaining. Income and outgo balanced perfectly, leaving exactly thirteen taels.

Last month, beyond the initial fifty wen, Yan Xiaoyu later distributed one hundred wen each to his elder sister and parents, while he himself took two hundred wen.

This month’s distribution was larger: Yan Xiaoyue received three hundred wen, Yan Xingmao and his wife three hundred wen, and Yan Xiaoyu alone took five hundred wen.

He had initially refused to take more, but both Yan Xingmao and his wife, along with Yan Xiaoyue, insisted that he worked the hardest and handled all external dealings, so he couldn’t be shortchanged.

Yan Xiaoyu couldn’t argue with the three of them, so he let them have their way.

Three months had passed since Yan Xingmao’s leg injury. After Dr. Yu’s examination, he no longer needed medication.

He could now walk normally, though he still couldn’t overexert himself. That’s why He Qiuhua didn’t let him go to the mountain to look for their son that day.

With Yan Xingmao’s leg healed, the family had even saved up thirteen taels of silver—an amount they had never dared to dream of before.

This Mid-Autumn Festival, the smiles never faded from the faces of Yan Xiaoyu’s family.

 ━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

After the Mid-Autumn Festival, a few days passed, Yan Shaoxuan made another trip to the county seat, bringing back news of a new shop for Yan Xiaoyu and Ji Wenyan’s return gift.

A few more days passed peacefully.

On the day of the Autumn Equinox, the Qian family—whose tofu business had been snatched away yet remained quiet—suddenly made their move.

They slashed the price of tofu in Beiling Village to four wens per block.

Yan Xiaoyu suddenly found that his tofu wasn’t selling. On the first day, only ten of his fifty blocks sold. He initially thought it was because people had eaten heavily during the Mid-Autumn Festival and wanted a change of taste.

But when sales dropped the next day, he sensed something was off.

Soon after, Nian-ger came rushing over, sharing the news of the Qian family’s price cut.