Song Ning scooped up his clothes and stumbled out of bed, trailing behind Wei Hu like a little shadow. When Wei Hu stopped, Song Ning bumped his forehead right into the other guy’s back. Clutching his nose, he whimpered, “Wei Hu!”

Wei Hu was in a good mood this morning. “What’d you like to eat?”

“Scallion pancakes.”

Wei Hu sent Song Ning to cook porridge while he rolled up his sleeves to knead dough and fry pancakes. Country folk rose early; the first light of dawn brought sounds from outside.

Chen Cuihua also got up. Seeing the young couple cooking—one tending the fire, the other flipping pancakes—Song Ning, who’d hoped to catch up on sleep, gave an awkward chuckle. “Mother, you’re up.”

“Ah.”

Wei Hu made many pancakes. He wouldn’t be back for lunch since he was hunting in the mountains. Today, his mother also needed to go to town to sell baskets, so he had to leave some pancakes for Song Ning’s midday meal.

After breakfast, the family went about their respective tasks. Wei Hu untied the Hei Dou and Hua Dou, releasing them. They’d been tethered in the backyard during the rainy days, and now they bounded out joyfully.

Wei Hu set off first, carrying his bow and arrows and a knife. Chen Cuihua also packed some baskets into her basket. “Ning-ger, you stay home and watch the place. Mother’s leaving too.”

“Okay.”

Song Ning saw them both out the door. Now he was the only one left at home. He wandered around inside and outside the house but couldn’t find anything useful to do.

Both Wei Hu and his mother were hardworking people. The house was always kept spotless. Seeing a few fallen leaves in the yard, Song Ning picked up a small broom and obediently began sweeping the ground.

He thought he’d go find Qiu-ger later to see what he was up to.

Just as Song Ning was thinking about Qiu-ger, the boy came over carrying a wood rack. “Ning-ger, I just saw your mom head to town. Since you’re home alone, I thought I’d come over.”

The moment Song Ning saw Qiu-ger, a smile spread across his face. “Qiu-ger, I was just about to come find you.”

“Want to go gather firewood?”

“Sure, sure, sure!”

Song Ning quickly dropped the small broom in his hand. He looked at the wooden frame strapped to Qiu-ger’s back, complete with ropes, wondering what it was for.

He pointed at it. “Qiu-ger, am I supposed to carry that?”

“You just started gathering firewood, so you don’t need the rack. Just grab a basket.”

“Alright!”

Song Ning trotted to the backyard to find a basket. He was thrilled to be doing something useful for the household; otherwise, he felt awkward just sitting around.

Together, they headed to the back mountain to gather firewood. Qiu-ger pointed out fallen branches scattered on the ground, explaining they could all be collected for fuel. Song Ning gathered them with enthusiasm, suddenly finding household chores not so daunting after all.

“Qiu-ger, what do you usually do around the house?”

“There’s always plenty to do. After meals, I gather firewood or pick chestnuts. Back home, I cook and wash clothes. When there’s nothing else, I embroider flowers. I just can’t sit still.”

“Wow, you’re so skilled!”

Qiu-ger chuckled. “This is nothing. This is all during the farming off-season. In spring and summer, we have to go out to the fields to plant rice seedlings and weed. My family also keeps chickens and ducks, so I have to get up early to cut grass for them. Harvest time is even busier. This is all pretty leisurely compared to that.”

Qiu-ger moved swiftly, leading Song Ning to deserted fields where dead branches littered the ground. At first, Song Ning thought gathering firewood would be easy, but after a while, he changed his tune. The basket on his back grew heavy, and he hadn’t even collected as much as Qiu-ger.

Qiu-ger carried a huge bundle without even pausing for breath, while Song Ning was already sweating on his forehead.

They found a flat spot to rest. “We’ve gathered enough. We can pick up more on the way back.”

“Qiu-ger, farm work is no easy task.”

“You’re just a young master. Marrying into our village must be hard on you.”

“It’s not hard, it’s not hard. Wei Hu even cooks for me.”

Hearing Song Ning say this, Qiu-ger snorted. “Your Wei Hu is really something. Just the other day, I asked Dazhuang to cook, and my mother-in-law got upset. She started nagging me the moment she saw it. She’s always gossiping—spreading rumors that I’m lazy and make my husband do all the work. It’s infuriating.”

Song Ning gasped, “How could she say that about you? You’re such a hard worker!”

Song Ning sighed deeply and lowered his head. “If even someone as diligent as you gets called lazy, what would happen to me if I married into your family? They’d probably kick me out of the house.”

Qiu-ger burst out laughing. “You’d better not come. You’re too soft-hearted. If you met a mother-in-law like mine, I’d be afraid you’d be bullied to death.”

“Wei Hu is much better,” Song Ning muttered. “By the way, is Granny Sun’s stomachache better now?”

“Better? Not just that! After drinking two bowls of medicine that day, she was hopping around the next morning, gossiping away. Hmph! She should’ve suffered longer—then she wouldn’t have the energy to run around spreading rumors about this family and that. So annoying.”

The two sat chatting idly. Qiu-ger didn’t have many friends in the village, so meeting Song Ning meant he finally had a companion. He told Song Ning everything.

“But my Dazhuang is decent. He earns copper coins and gives me the bulk of it. He only keeps a few loose coins for his mother’s pocket money. Thankfully, Dazhuang knows how to handle things. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to get by.”

“Would your mother-in-law agree to that? She doesn’t seem like the type.”

“How could she? Not long after I married in, Dazhuang gave me his earnings. She threw such a fit, demanding to take it all back. She even called him unfilial. Only when Dazhuang got really tough did she finally calm down. Since then, she’s disliked me even more.”

Song Ning recalled how Wei Hu had given him silver to keep the very next day he arrived, and his mother hadn’t said a word. He couldn’t help but remark, “Your life hasn’t been easy either.”

“It’s okay, just like that. Back then, my father saw that Dazhuang was good at farm work.”

Song Ning fidgeted with his fingers, his face flushing. “Qiu-ger, you and Dazhuang… you know… are things okay between you?”

“What exactly do you mean by ‘you know’?”

“You know what I mean!” Song Ning glanced around furtively, making sure no one was listening, then whispered, “How are things between you and Dazhuang in bed?”

Qiu-ger nearly choked on his own spit, coughing until his face turned crimson. Song Ning hurriedly patted his back to help him catch his breath. “Qiu-ger, what’s wrong with you?”

Qiu-ger’s face was flushed as if it might bleed, though it was unclear whether from choking or embarrassment.

Though usually carefree, being asked such a personal question left him flustered. “It’s… It’s just okay.”

Song Ning tugged at him. “Oh, come on, just okay? Good Qiu-ger, tell me!”

“You’re already married, why ask me this? It’s kind of embarrassing.”

Huddled together like thieves, Song Ning pleaded until Qiu-ger finally relented. ”It was… it was okay.“

”What was it like?“ Song Ning tilted his head, asking like a student eager for knowledge.

Qiu-ger gave Song Ning a light kick. ”Ning-ger, you’re so mean! Don’t you know? Why ask me? Really!“

”I know, I know. I just wanted to ask you.“

”Well, it feels kinda good,“ Qiu-ger whispered softly into Song Ning’s ear.

”Good?“

”What? Didn’t you enjoy it with Hu-zi?“

”Good, it was good,” Song Ning nodded quickly.

Qiu-ger playfully nudged Song Ning. “Brother Hu-zi is quite the stud, isn’t he? Few in the village are as robust as him. I’ve heard that if it weren’t for his reputation for being unlucky with wives, plenty of girls in Daliushu Village would want to marry him.”

“Huh?” Song Ning nodded like a pecking chick. “He’s pretty robust, pretty robust.”

Song Ning didn’t understand what Qiu-ger was talking about. Nodding seemed like the right reaction. What did “robust” even mean? Wasn’t sleeping together just… that? The books made it sound pretty comfortable—warm red silk curtains and all that.

Qiu-ger nudged Song Ning again, nearly knocking him flat with the force. Laughing, he caught him before he fell. “How many times a night do you and Hu-zi do it?”

Song Ning looked utterly confused, but his little brain was sharp. “How many times do you and Dazhuang do it?”

“You tell me first.”

“You tell me first.”

“Fine. Maybe two or three times. My stepfather said you can’t indulge a man. When my Dazhuang first got married, he was restless night after night. You can’t let a man get his fill, or he’ll stray.”

The blush on Song Ning’s face spread all the way to his neck. He began counting on his fingers, making Qiu-ger’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “Five times! That many!”

Actually, Song Ning had just opened his hand and hadn’t closed it yet. Feeling embarrassed that the number was too low, he added two more fingers. “Hmm, seven times.”

“Seven… seven times! Brother Hu-zi is truly formidable! No wonder so many young ladies want to marry him!”

Song Ning nodded firmly. “Yeah, formidable!”

The two leaned heads together, whispering something inaudible. Seeing noon approaching, they shouldered their firewood and headed down the mountain. Their steps felt light and airy, as if they’d drunk watered-down wine.

When they met each other’s gaze, they both grinned foolishly, sharing a knowing look.

Having shared their little secret, they grew even closer, now truly becoming best friends who could talk about anything.

This time, Song Ning filled his basket to the brim with dry firewood on his trip up the mountain, leaving him thoroughly exhausted. Qiu-ger, knowing he was home alone today, seized the chance to teach him how to cook.

The kitchen erupted in chaos once more. “Oh my, too much oil! Who puts that much oil in their cooking? Wrong jar, wrong jar! That’s sugar, sugar! The salt’s over there! My goodness, stir it quickly…”

The kitchen echoed with Qiu-ger’s impatient shouts. Song Ning stood there like a timid little servant, not daring to utter a word. Qiu-ger was so fierce! Wei Hu was much nicer—when Wei Hu taught him, he never raised his voice.

That’s right. Wei Hu wouldn’t even let Song Ning do anything once a tiny spatter of oil hit his hand. With that kind of teaching, it’d take until the year of the monkey to learn anything.

“Ning-ger, you’re cooking? So early?”

The two looked up to see Li Xiaolian, who had arrived unnoticed. Song Ning remembered her—she’d helped him stoke the fire that time. He smiled at her. “Xiaolian, you’re here.”