Tang Xianling took a bite of the mushroom-meat sauce pork floss buns, still craving more. But he didn’t touch the sweet-salty red bean pork floss one. Instead, he said, “I’ll go brew some tea to go with it.”

The bread truly transported him back to his college days in the modern era. Those were his happiest memories.

“Wu-ger, I’ll go.” Jiang Yun stood up.

Tang Xianling didn’t argue. Once Jiang Yun left, he glanced at Tieniu. The pure-hearted Tieniu seemed a bit flustered, stealing glances at him. 

Tang Xianling: Hehe.

Even when shy, a handsome guy is still charming.

“The sweet-salty flavor tastes even better with tea,” Tang Xianling said earnestly to Tieniu.

Huangfu Tieniu stopped moving the bread in front of him upon hearing this.

Silence fell. It was different from before. Earlier, though they were also alone, Tang Xianling had been busy making bread. He was deeply focused when creating food, his mind free of distractions. Now it was different. Now, having eaten a piece of bread and satisfied his craving somewhat, he was starting to be captivated by beauty.

Tieniu was truly handsome.

He possessed a unique aura—clean, pure, yet radiating a vibrant vitality and wildness.

“Do you have family?” Tang Xianling asked, seemingly roundabout but actually direct.

Huangfu Tieniu sat upright. “Which family are you asking about?”

“Huh?” Tang Xianling froze. “You have more than one family?”

Huangfu Tieniu paused briefly before answering truthfully, “I grew up in the Huangfu household in Lujing until I was thirteen. That year, my grandmother passed away. On the journey back to our hometown with them, the boat capsized, and we were swept apart by the water. Later, my adoptive father found me. I had lost my memory then, and only recalled it a couple of years ago.”

“You never went back after remembering?” Tang Xianling looked at Tieniu, furrowing his brow. “Did your family treat you badly? What about your mother?”

“My mother passed away early. Even as a child in the Huangfu household, I never had a real place to call my own.” Huangfu Tieniu spoke in a level tone before continuing, “My adoptive father was a good man. He taught me skills. Two years ago, he fell gravely ill. On his deathbed, he couldn’t let go of me. After he passed, I’ve been living alone in the mountains—”

At this point, Huangfu Tieniu flushed slightly, as if recalling something. His expression grew earnest. “Though I live deep in the mountains, I’ve saved quite a bit of silver money from hunting over the years. My foster father wanted me to buy land and marry, but I’ve kept it untouched.”

His heart pounded louder with every word, thumping wildly, and he dared not look at Tang Xianling.

The atmosphere in the shop felt slightly off.

Tang Xianling: …

His lips trembled slightly, struggling to suppress his expression.

“Oh.”

Huangfu Tieniu’s hand tightened. His pounding heart stopped, and fear washed over him.

“My ex-husband Hu Kang is dead. He left me a divorce letter. Though I’m single now, the ties between the Tang and Hu families aren’t severed yet. I must cut them completely first.” Tang Xianling’s gaze was clear and upright as she declared, “We must be open and honest. We must date openly.”

Huangfu Tieniu’s tense heart relaxed. So that was it. He replied, “Exactly,” while a surge of sweetness welled up inside him. Including today, he’d only met Tang Xianling three times, yet they were already discussing marriage. His courage, honesty, and passion for life were unlike anyone he’d ever known.

…To marry a husband, one must hire a matchmaker, present three letters and six gifts—I wonder how to request the official matchmaker in Fengyuan City.

After Tang Xianling finished speaking, he noticed Tieniu remained silent, seemingly deep in thought. His face grew increasingly crimson, nearly reaching his ears. Tang Xianling paused—had Tieniu just gotten angry on his behalf when he mentioned confronting the Hu family?

It didn’t look like the flushed anger of righteous indignation.

Jiang Yun paused for a moment, hot tea in hand, overhearing their conversation. An inexplicable pang of sorrow welled up inside her, yet it also stirred a quiet courage. She recalled her earlier misunderstanding about Wu-ger and Tieniu being alone together in the shop. Now she felt she shouldn’t have doubted Wu-ger’s character.

“Tea’s ready,” Jiang Yun called softly.

Tang Xianling poured tea into a bowl, smiling. “Sweet and savory pair well with tea. Try some, Mother. You too, Tieniu. Eat plenty—I saved a lot.”

From five jin of flour, he’d baked sixty-two buns, keeping twenty for his family.

“I’ll pack some for you when you leave this afternoon.”

Huangfu Tieniu obediently hummed in response. He paused, then decided not to mention payment. He thought that next time he went into town and caught game, he could bring it to Tang Xianling. Last time he’d sold a deer, Tang Xianling’s eyes had lit up at the mention of it.

By late afternoon, Huangfu Tieniu needed to collect the plaque and lead his mule. Tang Xianling happened to be heading to the East Market to discuss milk arrangements, so they set off together. After leaving the main street, Tang Xianling hailed a carriage. Huangfu Tieniu climbed in after him and paid the fare.

Seeing this, Tang Xianling didn’t offer Tieniu any money.

During the ambiguous phase, it’s best not to draw too sharp a line.

Inside the carriage sat a slightly older man and a woman cradling a child. Tang Xianling took a seat, leaving the spot next to him vacant. When Huangfu Tieniu climbed in, the entire compartment instantly felt cramped. The woman and child inside the carriage both looked at Huangfu Tieniu.

Huangfu Tieniu sat beside Tang Xianling, sitting stiffly and properly.

But the compartment was small, and Tieniu was large. Their robes brushed against each other.

Tang Xianling looked at the touching edges of his and Huangfu Tieniu’s robes, and a faint sweetness stirred within him—

Could he be secretly in love?

Tang Xianling startled himself. He racked his brain but couldn’t reach a conclusion—because he hadn’t dated anyone!

Inside the carriage, only the child the woman carried babbled, asking when they’d be home. The woman replied, “Soon, soon. We’ll be in our neighborhood any minute.”

“Driver, how do we get to the Fengyuan City Magistrate’s Office?” Tang Xianling wanted to discuss something serious.

The driver outside on the carriage shafts didn’t respond—probably didn’t hear—but the gentleman seated inside spoke up: “Depends which magistrate’s office you mean.”

“The one that settles disputes and lawsuits for the citizens of Fengyuan City,” Tang Xianling replied, though he wasn’t entirely sure.

The man who had spoken nodded. “The magistrates’ offices are all in the three major wards: Bu Zheng, Fu Zheng, and Jian Zheng. Fengyuan City is the capital of Xidu Province. For lawsuits involving no loss of life, go to Fu Zheng Ward. There is a patrol officer there who can give you detailed directions.”

Seeing that the man was older and quite gentle, having kindly offered his guidance, Tang Xianling proactively introduced himself: “I run a food stall in Baxing District. My name is Tang Xianling. Thank you for your help.”

“Is it a business dispute?” the woman carrying the child inquired curiously. Before he could answer, she added decisively, “If that’s the case, it’s best not to involve the authorities. You’ll only get ten lashes each before the magistrate even considers right or wrong.”

Tang Xianling:!

“It’s not a business dispute,” Huangfu Tieniu answered, his brow furrowed. “Is this how the Prefect of Fengyuan City handles matters?”

The woman was stumped. “I only heard it said—anyway, when merchants quarrel, they always come to blows.”

Tang Xianling: ???

“Our Prefect Li of Fengyuan City isn’t such a foolish official. The case you describe must involve fault on both sides,” the older husband replied. He then turned to Tang Xianling: “If you wish to file a complaint, you’d best hire a litigation lawyer.”

Tang Xianling: “I intend to hire one, but I don’t know how much money it costs or where to find one, or whom to approach. I’ll ask around once I reach the West Market.”

The woman kindly advised, “For minor disputes, both sides should just give a little. Hiring a lawyer costs a lot of money—I hear they’re expensive. Ah, we common folk just have to endure. If it’s truly unbearable, just vent by cursing a bit.”

“Some things can’t be compromised,” Tang Xianling replied gently, thanking the woman. “Thank you for your kindness.”

The woman felt embarrassed. She patted the child in her arms and paused before saying, “Seeing how young you are, I thought you must have suffered some great injustice. But then I realized everyone has their own life to live. I shouldn’t have advised you.”

“It’s nothing,” Tang Xianling smiled. “If it were trivial nonsense, I’d have argued my way back home. No need to drag the magistrate’s office into it.”

“Right, right,” the woman nodded, thinking to herself that this young husband truly had grievances—she had underestimated the situation.

Soon, the woman disembarked first, carrying her child, arriving at the main street entrance of her residential quarter.

With only three people left in the carriage, Tang Xianling was deep in thought. Huangfu Tieniu remained silent too, thinking that next time he went into town, he should inquire about where the official matchmakers were and how to hire them. But all that would have to wait until Tang Xianling had completely settled the Hu family matter.

The older man across from them said, “If you need a litigation lawyer, head to Ningde Lane or Jude Lane. Several practitioners reside there. You can inquire about their fees yourself.”

“Thank you,” Tang Xianling replied earnestly.

Huangfu Tieniu added, “Our thanks.”

The older man waved it off. “No trouble at all.”

Arriving at the West Market, Tang Xianling and Huangfu Tieniu dismounted. Tang Xianling wanted to tell the shopkeeper to make his plaque to engrave “Closed for Business” on the back of the “Work Five Days, Rest Two” sign. The shop assistant said, “In that case, you’ll have to wait a bit longer.”

“I’m not in a rush. Could you deliver it to my home tomorrow?” Tang Xianling asked.

Shop assistant: “We can deliver it, but it’ll cost three wen per trip.”

Tang Xianling: “Alright.”

Huangfu Tieniu paid right there. After the assistant took the silver, Tang Xianling left the address of the Baxing District food shop. Once they stepped out, Tang Xianling smiled warmly: “I’m sorry to have you spend money on this.”

“Not at all. It’s my duty,” Huangfu Tieniu replied.

Tang Xianling couldn’t resist teasing him: “We haven’t even—” started dating yet, so what duty or no duty—but seeing Tieniu blush again, he grinned and said, “Leave the court business to me. You don’t need to worry about it.”

Huangfu Tieniu glanced over, his embarrassment forgotten. “I can help too.”

“I’ve got this,” Tang Xianling affirmed.

Huangfu Tieniu met Tang Xianling’s eyes, confirming he truly didn’t need his assistance. “Alright,” he agreed. “But if you ever do go to court, you must tell me.”

“I will,” Tang Xianling replied, his eyes crinkling into a smile.

Next, they headed to the East Market. Tang Xianling approached the foreign shopkeeper to discuss daily milk deliveries. Could they start earlier in the hotter months? What was the earliest possible time? And what was the latest possible delivery in the afternoon?

“Would you like another full barrel of milk?”

Tang Xianling replied, “Not that much. Just a small bucket.”

“That won’t work—it’s too difficult to deliver,” the clerk protested, explaining the policy clearly: “If you have residents in your neighborhood who drink milk, you can place an order for a whole barrel. We’ll deliver it free of charge, morning and evening, always fresh and ready. But once the weather turns hot in half a month, we can only deliver in the morning. As soon as the city gates open, the milk carts come in. They’ll wait at the main street entrance of each neighborhood for pickup…”

Tang Xianling realized this was just like subscribing to milk as a child!

Fengyuan City truly was a metropolis, remarkably convenient for daily life. With money, you could buy anything, and people would run errands for you.

But who in their neighborhood drank milk? He couldn’t be bothered with this errand. He could only negotiate with the clerk to see if he could buy less, just half a barrel delivered. If not, he’d pay for the delivery.

Labor was cheap these days. If the carts entering the city were heading that way anyway, they could stop at the main street corner of the Baxing District.

“Please wait, I’ll ask the boss.”

Soon the clerk returned with the deal: half a barrel could be delivered daily for three wen delivery fee, twenty wen per half barrel of milk, guaranteed for ten days.

“Deal,” Tang Xianling agreed readily. Half a barrel was actually plenty; the leftovers could serve as breakfast for him and Jiang Yun, providing calcium. Any less, and the boss surely wouldn’t deliver. “Tieniu, could you take a look at the deed for me?”

Seeing this, Huangfu Tieniu silently lowered his hand from his purse. Tang Xianling didn’t want him to pay money, and he understood.

The shopkeeper wrote out the contract for Tang Xianling. Tang Xianling had Huangfu Tieniu verify each character. He could read Rong Dynasty script—traditional Chinese characters—though it sometimes strained his eyes, especially when the shopkeeper wrote them too densely.

“It’s fine.” Huangfu Tieniu nodded, handing the document back to Tang Xianling.

Tang Xianling tucked it away, then bought a small jar of milk—he’d need it tonight.

Stepping out of the shop, Tang Xianling was overjoyed at getting the matter settled. “Perfect! Finally, no more butter—”

Huangfu Tieniu, walking beside him, slowed his pace. Forgetting to manage his expression, he turned to Tang Xianling in haste, his voice laced with surprise. “You won’t be churning butter anymore?”

“Nope.” Tang Xianling finally caught on and chuckled. “Churning butter is too exhausting.”

“I don’t mind the exhaustion. I’m really strong,” Huangfu Tieniu hurriedly insisted.

Tang Xianling: …Speaking of big—ahem.

“I forgot to mention, churning butter is tiring, but the real issue is the cost of the bread. Selling it for seven wen per loaf, the neighbors and customers in the district all think it’s too expensive. Honestly, I mainly did it to save myself the trouble and not waste the milk.” As Tang Xianling spoke, he noticed Tieniu nodding, his expression visibly falling.

Tang Xianling: …

Tieniu, you’ve never tasted the hardship of hand-churning butter!

This is no joke.

You should be happy about it!

“Let me accompany you to get the mule instead. I don’t even know where the Mule and Horse Office is,” Tang Xianling changed the subject.

Huangfu Tieniu composed himself. “You’re right.”

It was getting late indeed. Any further delay might prevent Tieniu from leaving the city. They headed to the mule station. Huangfu Tieniu retrieved the receipt and led out a mule. Its coat was sleek and glossy, and it stood tall and sturdy—clearly a fine specimen.

“Hop on. I’ll lead it back for you,” Huangfu Tieniu offered.

Tang Xianling shook his head. “You go back. I’ll take a carriage home. It’s too late—I don’t want the city gates closing. Oh, and I didn’t bring your bread—”

“Next time. Next time I come into town, I’ll grab some from the shop,” Huangfu Tieniu replied quickly, his eyes brimming with expectation.

Tang Xianling: “…” 

He stared steadily at Tieniu, then smiled and said, “Alright, it’s settled.”

Though they hadn’t explicitly discussed it, the unspoken connection between them was undeniably beautiful.

Hehehe.

After all this time alone, spring had arrived, and he’d met such a handsome guy. Tang Xianling was genuinely happy.

Especially since Tieniu was so pure-hearted. At the word “settled,” his eyes lit up. “I’ll walk you to the carts. See you next time.”

“See you next time.”

On the other side.

Cui Family Courtyard, Baxing District.

Cui Dabao brought back bread at noon. He planned to save one for his father, then share the rest with Douzi—one each for lunch.

“Mr. Tang said it’s pork floss. I couldn’t resist eating a whole one at the shop. It’s not greasy at all—even fresher than pickled plum vegetables,” Cui Dabao told Douzi.

Sun Douzi examined it curiously for a moment. “What kind of meat is this? It doesn’t even look like meat to me.”

“Pork, Mr. Tang said.“ Cui Dabao pondered it all the way home. Drawing on his years of foodie experience, he concluded, ”This meat seems slowly dried, yet it’s incredibly tender. Some bits melt in your mouth, and it’s not greasy at all. Honestly, it’s delicious. I’ve never seen anything like it before.“

Sun Douzi, hearing Dabao talk about it, stared at the food with wide eyes. He immediately said, ”If you like it, go ahead and eat it. I won’t begrudge you.”

“Try it! I brought it back especially for you.” Cui Dabao urged Douzi to take a bite. “If you like it, I’ll go buy more tomorrow.”

Sun Douzi had no choice but to take a tiny bite. The moment it touched his tongue, the aroma of meat and scallions filled his mouth. Though it was roasted, the bread was incredibly soft, carrying a peculiar, indescribable milky and buttery fragrance. He could only stare wide-eyed.

Cui Dabao beamed with pride. Somehow, seeing Douzi react like this made him happier than eating it himself. Thinking of the bread’s taste, he silently took back his earlier words. He was glad Douzi enjoyed it, and he was glad he enjoyed it—both made him happy.

“Tasty, huh?”

Sun Douzi’s gaunt face lit up, his eyes shining brightly. “Delicious.” He chewed slowly and carefully, then said, “Dabao, I’ve never had food like this before. How is it made? How can it be so good?”

“I don’t know either. Even if I did, I couldn’t replicate Master Tang’s skill,” Cui Dabao declared with conviction.

Unbeknownst to him, the nickname “Little Master Tang” had evolved from a single meat floss bun that had completely won Cui Dabao over into simply “Master Tang.”

Catching Douzi’s gaze, Cui Dabao felt a surge of pride. Eager to show off in front of Douzi, he held up the bun and declared, “When it comes to eating, I’ve learned a thing or two. Everyone has their own touch—the heat, the seasonings, the steps. Even if someone copies it, if it’s just a little off, the flavor is completely different.”

“Take Boss Tang’s pot-sticker buns—I’ve eaten them for days straight and still can’t get enough. It’s truly strange—”

Cui Dabao loved good food, but he rarely ate the same thing for more than three days. He feared growing tired of it and wasting such deliciousness, so he always gave his palate a break to savor it long-term and not squander culinary treasures.

If a dish became tiresome, it was a wasted meal.

“It’s like an addiction,” Cui Dabao mused, slumped in his chair. “Truly strange.”

Sun Douzi hummed in agreement, a hint of embarrassment in her voice. “Me too.”

His background was humble, with no family support. His brother and sister-in-law weren’t kind, and after marrying into the Cui family, he preferred to keep his distance from them. Given their nature, if he dared to show goodwill, the Cui family’s money would surely end up in their pockets.

He wasn’t willing to risk that.

The Cui family treated him well.

So in the past, Sun Douzi lived in the Cui household, using whatever was available. He never asked for money or made demands—like wanting new clothes, meat, or pastries. It was only when Father Cui, seeing the New Year approaching, said he’d buy new clothes for the two children, or when Cui Dabao brought back something delicious he’d encountered.

But Sun Douzi would usually just take a tiny taste and leave the rest for Dabao—at first, he wouldn’t touch it at all, thinking it was too expensive and he didn’t need such fine food. It was only when Cui Dabao insisted, even getting a little angry, that he finally ate.

The couple even argued over these things at first, mainly because Cui Dabao raised his voice in frustration, saying, “Do you look down on me? I feed you, and you won’t even eat it.”

Sun Douzi, frightened by this, would cry secretly, wondering what he had done wrong to upset his husband. He only thought it was too expensive, and since his husband loved it, she gave it all to him.

Both cared deeply for each other, yet they kept clashing, talking past each other like chickens and ducks.

It was Father Cui who stepped in, scolding Dabao and then Douzi. He told Dabao to speak properly to his wife and said to Douzi, “You married Dabao. When he asks you to do something, just listen. He’s not asking you to do anything bad. Why are you being so stubborn?”

Naturally, Father Cui favored his own son more.

Three years passed in a flash, and minor friction subsided. Now Sun Douzi ate the takeout Cui Dabao brought home, though never like this—taking tiny bites of bread one after another while telling Dabao, “This is so delicious. Dabao, will you buy bread again tomorrow? I want more.”

“Buy!”

Cui Dabao was overjoyed—this was the first time Douzi had ever asked for more on his own.

“But—”

Sun Douzi grew a bit nervous. “Isn’t it too expensive? If it’s pricey, I’m not really that fond of—”

“That’s not what I meant.” Cui Dabao’s voice rose slightly, but seeing Douzi’s fear, he softened back to his usual tone. “Tomorrow’s sale will be even cheaper.”

Sun Douzi had been anxious—had he upset Dabao again? But hearing this, he grew curious. “Cheaper? I’ve seen new shops offering discounts on opening day, but this bread is so good, it shouldn’t go unsold. Why would it be cheaper the next day?”

“Of course not. It’s flying off the shelves. I just got there early.” Cui Dabao explained proudly, “Mr. Tang said today’s bread has this special butter—made from less than one jin of milk essence extracted from an entire barrel of milk.”

Sun Douzi: !

“That rare? No wonder it’s so delicious.” He almost couldn’t bring himself to eat it, but the aroma and taste were irresistible, making him take one bite after another.

Cui Dabao: “That’s why it’s pricey. Others complained it was too expensive and asked for a discount. I saw Mr. Tang take the hint and explain he’d make some without the butter—”

“The bread made with it today is undoubtedly the tastiest, but also the most troublesome to make. Just thinking about not having to use butter made Mr. Tang so happy, he couldn’t wait.”

Cui Dabao spoke with conviction. At this thought, he muttered, “Then I bought too little today. Tomorrow’s flavor won’t compare to today’s.”

“From what you say, this Mr. Tang seems quite an interesting fellow,” Sun Douzi chuckled. His smile brought a hint of liveliness to his gaunt, expressionless face.

Cui Dabao stared in amazement, his mind momentarily lost. His first attraction to Douzi had been his smile; he had thought, this young ger is too thin; if he were plump and rosy-cheeked, his smile would be even more captivating.

Three years had passed, yet Douzi remained thin. That wouldn’t do.

“I’ll go check again tomorrow.”

Besides Cui Dabao planning to ambush Tang Wu-ger’s breakfast shop again tomorrow, nearly every customer who bought bread in the neighborhood today found themselves craving more after finishing their loaf. Especially those who’d split a loaf with a friend—the aroma alone had stirred their hunger pangs, but eating just half—

…well, that hunger pang had opened their stomachs wide. They wanted more.

When they went to buy more, alas, it was gone—sold out.

So they consoled themselves: No rush, no rush. Tomorrow, it will be five wen each. I’ll buy two then to satisfy my craving.

Then there were those who initially found the pork floss strange and unappealing, yet ended up finishing it without realizing it, even feeling a bit reluctant and unsatisfied. How peculiar! I’ll buy another tomorrow to try.

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

That night, the customers at Brother Tang’s breakfast shop all retired early. Zhang Ming even thought: I must rise at dawn—that rascal Cui Dabao is bound to come.

He had to beat him to it.

Ningde Lane.

Song Jie served as an advisor, working under the registrar of Prefect Lord Li. One of three such advisors without official rank, he normally managed Fengyuan City’s household registries. Today, while handling affairs, he unexpectedly acquired two novel delicacies. Carrying them home, he resisted temptation—yet couldn’t withstand the aroma and devoured half en route, leaving one and a half for his husband.

By evening, Yuan Heqing returned from his outing.

Song Jie said, “Don’t laugh at me, but I lost my resolve today and secretly ate one of the fresh treats behind your back. Still, I saved one and a half for you. I just kept looking at them—rest assured, I resisted eating them.”

Outwardly, Song Jie was refined and easygoing, maintaining the dignified demeanor of an advisor. Yet before his husband, he was adept at playful banter and clever quips.

Yuan Heqing chuckled, replying, “You know I’m not greedy. You can have my portion if you wish.”

“No, no! My dear, I’ll fetch it for you right now.” Song Jie went to get the bread, adding, “They weren’t actually selling it—they kept it for themselves. I saw through that. Normally, I should’ve left without losing face, but the aroma lured me in, and I ended up shamelessly staying to buy this.”

Yuan Heqing chuckled out loud upon hearing this. “Well then, I must see it for myself.”

Upon inspection, it was indeed something he’d never encountered before.

The last half-loaf was shared between the couple, with most of it ending up in Yuan Heqing’s mouth. Song Jie remarked with admiration, “This bread is truly exceptional.”

Even a husband who claims not to be a glutton could eat so much of it—proof enough of its quality.