Wei Hu emerged from the backyard, carrying a half-filled sack of sweet potatoes. He remembered Song Ning mentioning yesterday that they were for a gift.

Chen Cuihua noticed and asked, “What’s this, Hu-zi  ?”

“Packing some sweet potatoes.”

Chen Cuihua gasped. “What are you doing with these? They’re worthless. People will laugh at you.”

“Ning-ger asked me to bring them.”

Upon hearing it was Song Ning’s request, Chen Cuihua held her tongue.

Song Ning had already slung the egg basket over his shoulder. Wei Hu carried a hen and a jug of wine in one hand, while the other shoulder bore the sack of sweet potatoes.

Chen Cuihua held her head high as she walked them to the village entrance. She wanted the whole village to see—who said her Hu-zi was unlucky in marriage? Look at the fine Fulang he’d married now! Unlucky in marriage? Bullshit!

Chen Cuihua greeted everyone she passed along the way.

“Cutting grass for the animals.”

“Gathering firewood? Look at all you’ve collected!”

“Oh my, look at Tieniu! So young and already helping his mother with chores.”

When she greeted them, people always replied, “Cuihua, are you visiting your in-laws today?”

“Yes! The weather’s perfect for it, and Ning-ger is visiting his parents today too.”

Chen Cuihua beamed as she led the two men toward the village entrance. Song Ning felt a bit awkward and ducked closer to Wei Hu.

Qiu-ger was carrying some rice to the village threshing floor when he spotted the trio from afar. Wow, Wei Hu’s Fulang really is quite handsome.

“Auntie Cuihua, Brother Hu, where are you headed?”

Though Chen Cuihua disliked Qiu-ger’s mother-in-law, Granny Sun, she got along well with Sun Dazhuang, her son Hu-zi’s friend. She also quite liked Dazhuang’s Fulang. Qiu-ger had married into Daliushu Village during the New Year celebrations, less than a year ago.

Chen Cuihua smiled and said, “Qiu-ger is off to pound rice at the village entrance.”

“Oh, Auntie, Brother Hu-zi and his new wife are visiting their parents!”

“That’s right.”

“Look at all these gifts! Auntie Cuihua, you’re so generous!”

“Not at all. It’s all because Ning-ger is such a good boy.”

Wei Hu also whispered to Song Ning, who was hiding beside him, “This is Qiu-ger. He’s the Fulang of Sun Dazhuang you met that day—also newly married this year.”

Qiu-ger, with his cheerful nature, introduced himself: “My name is Qiu-ger. I’m Sun Dazhuang’s Fulang. Come visit me sometime.”

Song Ning nodded shyly. “Uh, I’m Song Ning. I’m… Wei Hu’s Fulang.”

Chen Cuihua covered her mouth and giggled. How adorable her Ning-ger was.

Qiu-ger chuckled too. “Alright. I don’t really know anyone in the village.”

Qiu-ger quite liked Song Ning. He thought Song Ning was not only handsome but also spoke with a refined grace, unlike the fiery-tempered country girls. Oh, he felt he had a fiery temper himself.

After exchanging a few words with Qiu-ger, Song Ning felt quite pleased. This was his first friend in the village, and Qiu-ger had said he’d come find him to play.

Song Ning and Wei Hu had to return home, so after exchanging a few more casual words, they parted ways. Chen Cuihua walked them to the village entrance before leaving, not forgetting to remind them, “Hu-zi, when you see the oxcart, flag it down and head over early.”

“Got it, Mother.”

Early that morning, many villagers were pounding rice and grinding flour at the village entrance. They craned their necks curiously to look at the new Fulang. Chen Cuihua returned home after seeing the two off.

Yesterday, she’d made Ning-ger a full-length robe and undergarments. She remembered the measurements perfectly. Seeing how the days were growing colder by the day, she decided to go ahead and make Ning-ger’s padded coat now, so he wouldn’t be without warm clothes when the real cold set in.

Chen Cuihua returned home in high spirits. She wanted to show those gossipmongers who said her Hu-zi was a wife-killer. Pah! Look how well Ning-ger was doing in her family.

At that moment, Li Guifen was pounding rice at the village entrance. She saw everything clearly. There were only two stone mortars for pounding rice at the village entrance, and both were in use now. Qiu-ger was waiting nearby.

Daliushu Village wasn’t large to begin with. If any household had a trivial matter, the entire village would know about it. How much more so for something as significant as a marriage?

Song Ning and Wei Hu had already walked far away carrying their gifts, yet many still watched them depart.

“Quite a haul they’re carrying! Just the eggs—I’d say twenty or thirty—and that chicken too. It’s surprisingly old.”

“Aunt Cuihua is being generous. She’s finally married off her son; of course, she’s happy!”

“Chen Cuihua used to be so stingy she’d pick up every grain of rice she dropped. Today she’s being generous. Wei Hu’s just a hunter—how often do you see meat cooked in his house?”

“Look, she even made him a new outfit. I’m jealous just looking at it.”

“You know, they actually make a pretty good match. You won’t find a better-looking ger in our village than Ning-ger.”

Li Guifen curled her lip. “Wei Hu has a rough life ahead. You can’t tell from just a day or two. Who knows what tomorrow brings?”

A gossipy onlooker chimed in, “Guifen, you’re still holding a grudge against Cuihua? Her husband’s long dead, and yours is gone too. Why dwell on it?”

The remark drew a chorus of laughter from the crowd. Here were these middle-aged women, still dwelling on matters from their youth, even though their grandchildren were already running about everywhere.

Li Guifen, embarrassed and unable to save face, spat out, “Pah! What nonsense are you spouting, you little minx? I was just speaking off the cuff.”

Qiu-ger, listening nearby, chuckled too. Though he’d only been in Daliushu Village for less than a year, his mother-in-law, Granny Sun, was a real gossip. She could mutter about others even while cooking alone, and Qiu-ger had overheard plenty.

He knew all about the feud between Li Guifen and Chen Cuihua. Understanding the insinuations, he joined in the laughter.

Li Guifen snorted. “Don’t be fooled by Ning-ger’s good looks. He’s useless—nothing but a pretty pillow. All show on the outside, but inside? Nothing but empty chatter.”

Qiu-ger couldn’t bear to listen anymore. Ning-ger had only been here a few days, yet Li Guifen was already speaking so harshly about him. Even if the two families didn’t get along, there was no need to be so cruel.

Qiu-ger spoke up, “Auntie Guifen, how do you know? Young Master Ning is handsome—more so than Brother Li Gui’er’s wife. There’s no need to disparage him.”

“Pah! Who’s disparaging him? That Ning-ger comes from town. He can’t even tend a fire, let alone cook. Even a child his age knows how to do that. He’s a new Fulang who can’t manage basic chores. What good is he? And he’s another ger who can’t bear children. If you want one, why don’t you marry him yourselves?”

“Besides, my daughter-in-law gave me a grandson the moment she walked through the door. What’s there to envy about Chen Cuihua? Envy that she married an ancestor? Or envy that her family got a ger?”

Li Guifen rattled off her complaints like beans from a bamboo pod, prompting someone to ask, “What? That Hu-zi’s Fulang can’t even cook or tend the fire?”

Li Guifen, delighted someone was finally engaging her, quickly added, “Exactly! He can’t wash clothes or cook. If you’re willing to take him home, go ahead.”

Granny Sun, who had appeared from somewhere, chimed in, “What good is marrying someone who can’t do any work? You’d have to wait on him hand and foot. That’s just asking for ridicule.”

Qiu-ger grew displeased at his mother-in-law’s words. He picked up the grain and headed back home. Granny Sun called after him, “Qiu-ger! Where are you off to? It’ll be your turn soon! Why are you leaving again?”

Qiu-ger didn’t even turn his head. “Mother, I’m thirsty. I’m going home to get a drink.”

Granny Sun muttered behind him, “Working and drinking water—doesn’t he know to be more diligent?”

Fuming, Qiu-ger carried the grain back home. Entering the courtyard, he saw Sun Dazhuang fiddling with the stool, missing its legs. Qiu-ger slammed the wooden basin down before him with a clatter. “Go pound the rice.”

Sun Dazhuang jumped in surprise. “What’s gotten into you? Who’s upset you?”

“No one. Just get to pounding that rice.”

Sun Dazhuang brushed dust from his hands and grinned as he approached. “Who dares bully my Sun Dazhuang’s Fulang? I’ll teach them a lesson.”

They had been married less than a year, still in the honeymoon phase. Qiu-ger was quite content with the match. During their year-long engagement, Sun Dazhuang often came to help with farm work during the busy seasons.

Sun Dazhuang was a skilled farmhand. His work in their fields drew envy from villagers, which pleased Qiu-ger.

Life after marriage had been relatively smooth. They were poor, but at least his husband was capable. The only trouble was his mother, Granny Sun, who constantly nitpicked at him.

Today, she’d said something like, “What good is marrying someone who can’t do any work?” It annoyed him to hear it—as if he’d been brought into the Sun family just to be their ox or horse.

Sun Dazhuang circled Qiu-ger, coaxing him, only to get kicked. “You’re so annoying! Hurry up and pound the rice—otherwise we won’t have lunch.”

“Fine, then don’t be angry.”

Sun Dazhuang carried the wooden basin to the village entrance to pound the rice. When he arrived, his mother was still gossiping with neighbors at the village entrance. Seeing Sun Dazhuang come to pound the rice, Granny Sun grumbled, “Why are you pounding the rice? Where’s Qiu-ger?”

“Qiu-ger is busy at home.”

“What kind of Fulang is so lazy he can’t even pound rice?”

Someone nearby spoke up in defense, “Oh, Granny Sun, you complain about Qiu-ger being lazy? He’s actually a hardworking Fulang! Right after marrying into your family during rice planting season, he went out to the fields with you the very next day. He gets up early to work, cooks meals, does laundry, and even does embroidery. Your Qiu-ger is quite diligent!”

Hearing praise for her Fulang, Sun Dazhuang grinned foolishly. “Right? My Qiu-ger is the most capable.”

Not long after Song Ning and Wei Hu set off, they encountered an oxcart catching up from behind. Wei Hu stopped it and helped Song Ning climb aboard. This time, she clutched his sleeve tightly. “Brother Wei Hu, you should ride too.”

“I’m young and strong. Why would I need a cart?”

Wei Hu had never ridden a cart or mule into town—he always walked on his own two feet. It wasn’t that he couldn’t spare the three copper coins; he just figured the road wasn’t that long and he’d reach town soon enough.

Song Ning wouldn’t relent. Seeing Wei Hu refuse to sit, he started to jump down. “Then I’ll walk with you.”

Wei Hu’s face hardened. “Sit still. You’ll fall off.”

Song Ning looked hurt. “Why are you being so mean?”

Wei Hu panicked a little. “No, no, I’m not being mean. I just talk like this. I’ll sit.”

Song Ning quickly shifted over to make room, and Wei Hu sat down beside him.

A young woman riding in the cart teased, “Your Fulang is so considerate of you.”

Wei Hu cleared his throat awkwardly, while Song Ning felt a sweet warmth in his heart.