There were many games for young girls to play. When the weather was clear and the sun was shining, they would play with bamboo dragonflies, spin tops, and toss iron hoops in the courtyard and alleyways. On rainy days, when they were cooped up indoors, they would trace floral patterns, do some needlework, and play house.

Lu Sanniang knew a little bit of reading and writing; her older brothers had taught her after they came home from private school. She was a bit slow to learn, and her parents weren’t strict about whether their daughter learned to read and write—if she wanted to learn, she could; if not, it didn’t matter much.

This was unlike Lu Dalang and Lu Erlang, who had been sent to private school at their parents’ expense to learn to read and write. After returning from school, they had to practice writing on a sandboard; once they were done, their father would sternly quiz them, and they had to recite their lessons before they could eat.

As a result, both brothers were literate and could read and write.

It was cold outside now; though there was no rain or snow, the wind was biting. Lu Sanniang asked the three young girls what they wanted to play, and the three girls exchanged glances for a moment.

“How about I teach you to draw floral patterns?” Seeing that the three sisters were too shy to speak and were all following her lead, Lu Sanniang began to take on the air of a “teacher.” Having just asked a question, she now stated with certainty, “Then let’s draw floral patterns.”

“After the New Year, my older sister-in-law taught me how to draw floral patterns. Now I can draw orchids, chrysanthemums, lotus flowers, and water lilies.”

“Once you’ve learned to draw floral patterns, you’ll be able to embroider flowers and handkerchiefs.”

Zou Ling couldn’t read, but her needlework was considered quite good among the young women in the neighborhood. This was because, back when she was still living at home, there was a young woman in the neighborhood who had been abducted as a child and, through a series of unfortunate twists of fate, sold into a wealthy household as a maid; she wasn’t found and brought back until she was sixteen.

After she returned, her story became the talk of the neighborhood. The older girl explained that, even in that wealthy household, she hadn’t been a first-class maid; she’d spent some time in the young mistress’s sewing room and had picked up some needlework skills.

Later, when Zou Ling became close with this older sister, she finally told her the truth.

Although she had worked in the sewing room, her skills were lacking—she couldn’t sew items for the young mistress herself. Instead, she made the clothes worn by the maids in their courtyard.

Even so, to the average person, this older maid’s embroidery was exquisite and beautiful.

During the New Year, the shop was closed, and the whole family had nothing to do. Zou Ling had to endure a few more passive-aggressive jabs and nitpicking from her mother-in-law. She felt a bit annoyed, but she remembered what Mr. Tang had said: “Don’t try to manage the household or take on too much responsibility,” and that during the New Year, her mother-in-law would be busy with kitchen chores, deciding what to cook and what gifts to bring when visiting relatives—all of which was entirely up to her. Any questions her mother-in-law asked were just polite small talk; why should she take them seriously or actually offer suggestions?

So Zou Ling turned to Sanniang and began teaching her how to trace patterns and do embroidery.

Having something to do—and “proper” work at that—meant her mother-in-law couldn’t really interfere. Zou Ling had grown close to Lu Sanniang, and working on embroidery brought her inner peace; as a result, her relationship with Lu Dalang as his wife actually grew closer.

Zou Ling had figured it out: as long as she didn’t put Dalang in a difficult position between her and her mother-in-law—

There was no such thing as “being caught in the middle.” Her husband had always, first and foremost, prioritized his mother; toward her, he felt nothing but resentment, implying that she was meddlesome and oversensitive—that even when her mother said a word or two, she was reading too much into it when there was no hidden meaning.

Lu Sanniang’s calligraphy was nothing to write home about, but she was quite skilled at tracing floral patterns and embroidery. After speaking with the three sisters, she set off to fetch paper and brushes. Just as she stepped out the door, she ran into Aunt Jiang in the courtyard.

“Where are you going, Sanniang?” Jiang Yun asked.

Lu Sanniang explained her plans. Jiang Yun smiled. “No need to go back. We have ink and brushes at my house, and sewing supplies too. Wait a moment—I’ll find them for you.”

Before the New Year, Wu-ger had gone shopping and stocked up on bedding and quilts. Since he’d bought so much, the shop had thrown in quite a few spools of thread in various colors—perfect for Lu Sanniang and the three sisters to practice with.

Jiang Yun found her some ink, brushes, and paper, as well as a basket of sewing supplies.

“The three of you be careful not to prick your fingers with the needles. Little Sanniang mustn’t handle the needles—watch out for her eyes,” Jiang Yun cautioned.

The eldest sister said, “Don’t worry, Grandma. I’ll keep an eye on my third sister.”

“All right, go ahead and play,” Jiang Yun said as she left.

Lu Sanniang was overjoyed to see that the sewing basket was filled with needles and threads of every color. The selection of thread colors was far more complete than what she had at home. During the New Year, her eldest sister-in-law had taught her how to embroider, but since embroidery used up a lot of thread, her mother had said, “Embroidering patterns is too wasteful; for ordinary families like ours, mending and patching is enough.”

Her sister-in-law would surely disapprove of that, so Lu Sanniang said, “I love learning it—it’s really fun. Mom, take a look—isn’t it pretty? These patterns are much prettier than the patches on our clothes.”

Chen Qiaolian was used to being frugal; having lived a thrifty life for so long, she’d developed the habit of being careful with everything—whether it was cash, charcoal, or thread. But when Sanniang acted so playful and insistent, she held her tongue.

It’s the New Year—let her have her fun.

So, in the main hall, Lu Sanniang began teaching the three sisters how to paint.

Jiang Yun went into the kitchen to speak with her Wu-ger, and Tang Xianling reminded her, “Mother, light another candle in the main hall. Even though the lighting is better now, it’s still better to have plenty of light when using your eyes for long periods.”

“Let them paint for a while, then have them go out to the courtyard to stretch their legs so their eyes don’t get strained.”

Upon hearing this, Jiang Yun nodded repeatedly. “I hadn’t even thought of that. I’ll go right away.” After delivering the candle and tending to a few things, Jiang Yun remembered and went back to the main hall to call Lu Sanniang and the three sisters out to the courtyard to play.

Tang Xianling had just finished frying meatballs. He scooped a bowl of the freshly cooked meatballs and sent it over for Lu Sanniang and the three sisters to snack on.

Tang Zhen bustled back and forth; whenever she looked up, she’d see the three girls sitting under the canopy eating meatballs—one moment playing, the next going into the main hall to practice drawing.

In short, they weren’t even allowed to wash a single bowl.

They had truly become pampered guests.

At noon, Chef Tang was in the mood to cook. Since the family had bought plenty of fish and there was ready-made bone broth on hand, he decided to make fish soup with stewed rice the way Xiangtangzi did—though instead of using small, bony fish, he used large fish with plenty of edible meat.

With children in the house, he had to be extra careful when preparing this dish, making sure to remove all the fish bones and spines.

“Mi, prepare two side dishes: a large vegetable salad with round onions, wood ear mushrooms, and dried mushrooms—blanch them first—then fry a handful of peanuts, slice a few century eggs, and toss them all together. We’ll have it as a cold salad.”

“You don’t blanch the onions,” Boss Tang quickly added.

Xiao Mi laughed from the side and said, “Boss, I got it.”

After eating so much meat during the New Year celebrations, the boss was craving some light, refreshing cold dishes. He’d made this salad before, but he didn’t realize that the julienned onions had been blanched as well. It wasn’t until after the meal that he mentioned that for future cold salads, the onions should be eaten raw—salting them beforehand to draw out the water would suffice.

“One more thing: stir-fry the dried bamboo shoots with smoked pork.”

The wood ear mushrooms, other mushrooms, and dried bamboo shoots were all brought by Uncle Zhang.

There were also a few rabbits—Tang Xianling was craving cold rabbit, and once again regretted not having any chili peppers; otherwise, he would have made a fiery, spicy stir-fried rabbit dish.

He handed these two dishes over to Xiao Mi to prepare, and he began making fish soup rice. To achieve a thick, creamy consistency, Tang Xianling planned to mix the fish broth with bone broth and add a few potatoes. Once the potatoes were simmered until soft and crumbly, he’d scoop them out, mash them into a puree, and then return them to the pot to continue simmering.

Lunch for the staff was ready by noon.

As usual, everyone took turns eating. The rice stew was piping hot, and the pot of fish soup was simmering over low heat on the stove, keeping it warm. They scooped rice into a bowl, topped it with a spoonful of thick fish soup, added some cold side dishes, and ate it with a spoon—it was so delicious and full of flavor.

Tang Xianling carried a tray into the main hall to serve dinner. When he saw the table covered with ink and brushes for drawing floral patterns, Lu Sanniang deftly cleared the table.

Xiao Daniang led her two younger sisters to fetch some paper, which they placed on the writing desk, quickly clearing the table.

Tang Xianling set down the tray. “One bowl each. The large bowl is for Lu Sanniang. If you run out, go to the kitchen and serve yourselves.” He looked at the three younger ones. “I served you smaller portions because I was afraid you wouldn’t finish them and would force yourselves to eat just to avoid wasting food. If you’re still hungry, just help yourselves to more.”

“If there’s anything you don’t like, just pick it out and set it aside.”

Lu Sanniang couldn’t help but laugh. Fifth Brother really was different—what elder would ever tell a child to be a picky eater?

Tang Xianling heard the laughter and looked over. He knew what Sanniang was laughing at, so he explained with conviction, “Those three are still young. Kids have very sensitive palates—they’re different from adults. We find the round onions just right—the spiciness is perfect—but kids can’t handle them.”

Since they were mixed together, it was hard to pick them all out one by one when serving the dish.

Tang Xianling told the girls to pick out the parts they didn’t like themselves.

Upon hearing this, Xiao Daniang’s eyes sparkled as she looked at Uncle Wu, then she nodded firmly and said, “I understand.”

“Good girl, let’s eat. Be careful, it’s hot.” After serving the girls, Tang Xianling sat down to eat himself. Once he was finished, he’d go up front to help, and then it would be Tieniu’s turn to eat.

Just a couple of days ago, Xiao Daniang and her two sisters had eaten fish soup rice for the first time, and they’d loved it. It was their first time trying it, and they found it incredibly fragrant and delicious—especially since they’d washed up so thoroughly, leaving them feeling completely refreshed.

The fish soup rice Uncle made this time was different from what they’d had before. Xiao Daniang had her younger sisters sit down first, then scooped up a spoonful, blew on it, and put it in her mouth. The fish soup was incredibly savory; mixed with the rice and tender fish meat, it had a slightly gritty texture, with hints of potato and a milky flavor…

That’s right—Tang Xianling had added just a little milk to this pot of fish soup.

It wasn’t much, but just enough to enhance the flavor.

“Mom, are you going to feed Si-ger? Hold on—even though he’s starting solid foods this month, he shouldn’t have any salt yet,” Tang Xianling said. “I forgot to make a separate small pot just for him.”

Jiang Yun paused, deciding not to feed him. “I see the fish soup you made is milky white and has a hint of milk. He’s got one tooth now—if he won’t eat rice, he can have some of this thick soup.”

“I heard that too—you shouldn’t give a child salt too early before they turn one.” All of Tang Xianling’s parenting knowledge came from watching modern food videos online.

…Some food bloggers make children’s baby food with great care—it looks really delicious.

Tang Zhen happened to be coming into the backyard to eat when she heard this and paused in surprise. “No salt? But he’s already had some.”

“Huh?” Seeing his second older sister’s concern, Tang Xianling hurriedly said, “It’s fine. A little bit won’t hurt.”

Jiang Yun motioned for Erniang to sit down and eat; she’d gone to the front and had already finished her meal. “Hold Si-ger and play with him for a while—there’s no rush.”

Tang Zhen ate her fish soup with rice while lost in thought, then added, “When Si-ger was four or five months old, my mother-in-law used to dip a bit of mustard greens soup for him to lick.”

“What adults eat is different from what children eat,” Tang Xianling said, adding, “Just don’t feed him that way from now on. He’s still young. Now that he’s drinking milk, you can introduce solid foods—give him some rice porridge or rice and vegetable porridge, but don’t add any salt.”

Tang Zhen hummed in acknowledgment, taking his words to heart, then added, “Actually, my eldest and her two younger sisters were raised the same way when they were little. During the New Year, the older relatives on my mother-in-law’s side would even dip their chopsticks in wine to scare them.”

Tang Xianling furrowed her brow. “That’s a bad habit. Adults shouldn’t put chopsticks that have been in their own mouths into a child’s mouth. Who knows if they smoke or if their mouths are dirty? They say illness enters through the mouth, so it’s best to be careful.”

“True…” Tang Zhen didn’t finish her thought. She wanted to add that since they were all young girls, the elders didn’t mind, and Mother Cui and her father-in-law didn’t pay it any mind either.

Two days later, Sun Douzi came over to play, carrying Cui Xiaoyuan in his arms.

Tang Xianling was overjoyed. Since the family was busy with their business, Lu Sanniang had been taking the three sisters out to play, leaving only Si-ger behind. Though he was an exceptionally well-behaved child, he certainly couldn’t be left sitting alone all morning with no one to talk to or play with.

So Sun Douzi’s visit came at just the right time.

Sun Douzi was happy too, because his little tyrant, Xiaoyuan, had arrived in a new place but didn’t cry or throw a tantrum the moment he saw Si-ger. The two children sat on the four-poster bed and continued their mixed-up conversation. In just a few days, Cui Xiaoyuan actually broke her habit of needing to be held by an adult to fall asleep and refusing to sleep in her own bed.

Cui Dabao was both delighted and a little sad.

Tang Xianling:???

“The kids are growing up. They don’t need their dad to hold them anymore—they’re all sleeping in their own beds now,” Cui Dabao mused.

Tang Xianling: …You’re exaggerating way too much.

For several days after that, Lu Sanniang came over every day. Although she took care of lunch, it wasn’t quite right—the Lu household was short one pair of hands. Tang Xianling thought for a moment and told Aunt Chen that he would pay Sanniang twenty wen a day.

Chen Qiaolian’s heart skipped a beat. She said she wouldn’t accept it, insisting, “There’s no need to be so polite—we’re neighbors. I’m just a young girl playing with the kids; how could we possibly take money? We wouldn’t do such a thing.”

Tang Xianling felt awkward, but since Aunt Chen wouldn’t accept the cash, and with all the back-and-forth, he didn’t know how to go about giving it to her.

Afterward, Jiang Yun said, “I’m afraid we’ve incurred a debt of gratitude, but it’s all right—we’ll just return the favor later.”

“Or if Third Sister gets married, we’ll give her a more generous gift.”

When Lu Sanniang gets married, his family will send a gift, which would be listed on her dowry list as a gift for her.

That was for the best.

Lu Sanniang began coming over more often, though she didn’t stay at the Tang household all day. She usually returned before dinner, as she had to prepare the evening meal for her family—her sister-in-law handled lunch. A few days later, Lu Sanniang asked Fifth Brother if her sister-in-law could take over teaching the three sisters.

Her sister-in-law’s embroidery was better than hers.

“Did your sister-in-law tell you to say that?” Tang Xianling asked.

Lu Sanniang shook her head vigorously, like a rattle. Family matters shouldn’t be aired in public, but glancing around and seeing that no one else was listening besides Fifth Brother, she whispered, “My sister-in-law and my mother seem to be at odds.”

“If your sister-in-law comes, there’s no need to worry about appearing inappropriate—there are plenty of men and women in my household. It’s just that your mother probably wouldn’t be too happy about it, and your eldest brother would likely think she has a short temper and would avoid her after a few words. Here’s what we’ll do: the two of you can come over after lunch. If you teach embroidery, I’ll still pay you for your work.”

Lu Sanniang waved her hands repeatedly, refusing the cash.

“If you don’t want cash, then once the work is done, I’ll give you some fabric scraps and colored thread—that should be fine, right?” Tang Xianling said, looking at Lu Sanniang. “If you keep being so polite, I’ll feel bad.”

This time, Lu Sanniang agreed readily.

On the second day of the second lunar month—known as the “Dragon Raises Its Head”—the weather cleared up a bit. According to the custom in Fengyuan City, people would get their hair and faces done on this day and eat stir-fried chess-piece beans. The day before, some people had already asked Cui Dabao whether Mr. Tang would be making chess-piece beans this year; they were willing to buy them.

Cui Dabao thought, “This isn’t really a question—it’s a hint for me to tell Mr. Tang to sell chess-piece beans.”

But after thinking it over, Cui Dabao agreed to handle it—mainly because he was certain the boss would make them anyway.

Sure enough, when Tang Xianling heard this from Cui Dabao, he readily agreed: “It’s a holiday tomorrow, so I’ll make some. We’ll give a plate to every table at the restaurant for free—we won’t sell them—and you can have some too.”

Chess-piece beans made from flour and eggs weren’t expensive, so it was just a way to offer a special treat to customers.

After breakfast that day, Cui Dabao didn’t go home; instead, he stayed in the back kitchen to make the chess-piece beans. He’d tasted the version his husband had made before—it differed slightly from Mr. Tang’s, but not by much. Since they were giving them away to diners the next day, it would certainly be too much for Mr. Tang to make them all by himself.

That afternoon, Cui Dabao, Xiao Mi, and Tang Xianling found some time to help out. By evening, when it had grown dark, they’d filled three large basins to the brim—using nearly a whole bag of flour.

When Tang Zhen heard that the Wu-ger was planning to deliver them tomorrow, she gasped, “Deliver them?”

“We’ll give them away,” Tang Xianling told Second Sister. “Our restaurant is in the neighborhood, and our prices are a few wen higher than some places in the West Market. Patrons go out of their way to come here to eat. While my cooking skills are certainly a factor, it’s also a way to thank them for their patronage.”

“That’s how business works. Sometimes it’s the little things that matter. Customers might not mind spending a few wen on chess pieces or beans, but giving them away for free makes all the difference—it helps retain our customer base.”

At first, Tang Zhen was a bit confused, but seeing how earnestly Wu-ger was speaking to her, she listened intently. That night, she kept thinking to herself: Wu-ger’s way of doing business was different from her father’s—completely different—but the customers at Wu-ger’s restaurant were much more polite and courteous than they had been in her father’s day.

“Aren’t you asleep yet?” Jiang Yun asked quietly in the darkness, hearing Erniang toss and turn.

Tang Zhen gave a soft “Mm-hmm” and shared her thoughts.

Jiang Yun didn’t brush Tang Zhen off or tell her to go to sleep early; instead, she joined her in her thoughts. “Actually, when we used to make breakfast, there were also people who wanted to run a tab. Back then, they were all regulars from the neighborhood. I was too shy to say no, but Wu-ger insists on settling the bill right away—no credit for a small business like this.”

Hearing her mother speak, Tang Zhen rolled over and, guided by the sound, looked in her mother’s direction in the darkness.

“My heart skipped a beat at that moment—I was afraid the customer would lose his temper and cause a scene. That customer really couldn’t save face, so he started shouting loudly and spouting all sorts of nonsense. Wu-ger didn’t give him the time of day and snapped back, saying he wouldn’t sell a single pot-sticker bun to him from now on.”

Tang Zhen: “Didn’t that offend him?”

“Yes, we did offend him. He never came back after that, but we still had plenty of customers,” Jiang Yun said.

Tang Zhen had tasted the bread sold at her mother’s breakfast shop and knew they were indeed delicious. She murmured, “Wu-ger told me today that while good taste brings customers, we must also keep our customers’ feelings in mind.”

“Later, I heard from Zhang Ming that the man went to another district to eat pot-sticker buns from a different shop, and he’s been going around claiming that their buns taste better than ours.”

Tang Zhen looked a little nervous. “What should we do about that? Just ignore it? Should we give him some cash to shut him up?”

“There’s nothing we can do. We won’t do anything about it. That’s what Wu-ger said.” Jiang Yun smiled as she spoke, “If we made Wu-ger pay to silence that guy, it would hurt him more than cutting him with a knife. He’s a man of principle—he responds to kindness, not force. When others praise him for his sincerity, he treats them well in return. He says everyone has their own taste, so he doesn’t force it; he just focuses on winning over customers who love our family’s flavors.”

“How can there be no disputes in business? Wu-ger even got into a fight with the Old Zhao family once, but after that, our family’s business actually started running smoothly.”

“Back in your father’s day, he was afraid of getting into arguments with customers, so he spoke to everyone in a gentle, polite manner. But Wu-ger has said, if you can avoid a physical altercation or a loud argument, you should. Harmony brings prosperity. Diners come to our place to eat in peace—if we’re arguing today and fighting tomorrow, who’d have the heart to enjoy their meal? They’re not here to settle a court case.”

“But arguments are inevitable in business. Some troublemakers come looking for a fight on purpose. If we back down now, they’ll keep coming back every so often to eat for free. We can’t let them get away with it…”

Tang Zhen then asked, “So when should we indulge them, and when shouldn’t we?”

“For minor things—like a customer asking to round down the change or requesting an extra serving of a sample dish—Wu-ger Tieniu always agrees.”

“But when it comes to people who are deliberately looking for trouble, that’s a different story.”

It was late at night, and the mother and daughter, unable to sleep, chatted for quite a while about the ins and outs of running a business. Tang Zhen used to dislike listening to her father talk about these things, but now, hearing her mother talk about Wu-ger’s business dealings, she listened intently—mainly because it was interesting.

On the second day of the second lunar month, the Tang family shop gave away chess piece beans.

Thinking back on what her mother had said the day before, Tang Zhen paid close attention while helping out at the restaurant. She roughly estimated that the table, which had ordered all sorts of hot pot dishes, had spent at least three hundred wen. After they finished their chess-piece beans but hadn’t asked for a refill yet, Tang Zhen went ahead and served them another spoonful.

The customers looked up and said cheerfully, “Thank you—your shop’s ‘chess-piece beans’ are really quite good.”

“You’re too kind,” Tang Zhen replied with a smile.

Later, when this table settled the bill, not only did they not ask for the change to be rounded down, but they also left an extra twenty wen as a tip.

Tang Zhen was surprised. Although the chess-piece beans were complimentary, today’s profits were actually better than usual—most customers had paid a little extra, though naturally there were some who hadn’t and whose bills were rounded down, including Tieniu’s.

During dinner, Tang Zhen brought it up again with her mother.

“We’ve set our prices high, and now we’re getting mostly regulars. To be honest, I don’t know the exact financial situation of these regulars, but they certainly don’t seem to be short on money.”

Tang Zhen simply couldn’t fathom it: a meal costing two or three hundred wen—and they weren’t even asking for a discount, but were actually leaving tips—how could anyone possibly think that was too much money?

“For ordinary folk like us, two or three hundred wen is enough to cover ten days or half a month’s expenses, but for wealthy families, that’s not much money, is it?” Jiang Yun had seen a bit of the world by now. “I used to think the same way you do, but Wu-ger said that in this world, there are always higher-ranking officials above those in office, and among the wealthy, there are always those who are even wealthier. We should just live our own lives, treat everyone equally, and do our best to make sure our guests eat well.”

Tang Zhen had actually been a little nervous. With so many wealthy guests—could it be that government officials would be coming over for a meal? She was worried she might not serve them well enough or say something to offend them, but after hearing her mother’s words, she realized she hadn’t offended anyone today—nor had she ever before.

She decided to just keep working.

After the 2nd of the second lunar month, the weather grew much sunnier day by day. By the end of the month, grass was growing, and orioles were singing; the sun had been shining brightly for several days, and Xiao Mi asked the boss when they’d stop serving hot pot and switch to something else.

A-Liang, Mrs. Tong, nodded in agreement; some customers had mentioned they wanted to eat stir-fried dishes.

Tang Xianling replied, “Let’s wait a few more days. We’ll stop serving the mutton first and add some stir-fry dishes to the hot pot menu, but I reckon we’ll still have a few days of late spring cold snap.”

“Then keep the bone broth and sour broth hot pots on the menu, but take the mushroom broth off.”

On the weekend at the end of the month, Zhang Huai borrowed a handcart from the village, drove a mule, and arrived with Uncle Hainiu Wang and a cartload of goods. As soon as Tang Xianling opened the door, he was overjoyed.

It was Hainiu’s first time in the Tang family’s courtyard. He felt a sense of familiarity at first, but mostly curiosity. As soon as he saw Wu-ger, he was overjoyed and almost rushed over to hug him—only to get a slap on the head from Huangfu Tieniu standing nearby.

“Come on in and have a seat,” Tang Xianling said with a smile, inviting them inside.

Zhang Huai: “I did the math and figured you’d be off duty today. Is that right? I got it right, didn’t I?”

“Yes, we just happened to be taking a break,” Tieniu replied, stepping over the threshold.

Zhang Huai looked pleased, saying he hadn’t miscalculated. Wang Susu stepped into the courtyard and said, “We brought some duck eggs—I don’t know if you’d like them—as well as mushrooms and bamboo shoots. These bamboo shoots are fresh.”

“Yes, yes, yes—that’s wonderful,” Tang Xianling said.

Wang Susu said, “He borrowed your family’s mule, so you probably can’t use it. That’s why I picked a good day to bring these over.”

Zhang Huai chimed in from the side, “We stopped by town on the way to buy a cow. Your uncle said that with a cow around, I won’t have to do any heavy lifting.”

Tang Xianling: …Uncle Zhang, are you showing off now, too?

He knew the answer to this one!

“Haha, Uncle Wang is just looking out for you.”

Upon hearing this, Zhang Huai flashed a big grin, overjoyed.

“That’s right. Even though we’re an old married couple, he still cares about me.”

Wang Susu shot his husband a playful, reproachful glance—he was talking nonsense in front of the younger generation.