There were only two official matchmakers, but the mere association with the word “official” still intimidated common folk, even though hiring one wasn’t particularly expensive—a successful match arranged by a private matchmaker in Fengyuan City typically cost two or three taels of silver, though it might be cheaper in the villages.

Common folk avoided officials whenever possible, regardless of rank.

Those who sought official matchmakers were mostly wealthy merchants or respected gentry families. Thus, the matchmaker’s office remained relatively quiet most of the year, especially during April—a month many superstitious people avoided.

“You know how to write?” the clerk inquired.

Huangfu Tieniu nodded. “I studied it for a few years as a child.”

Hearing this, the clerk grew even more convinced that this young master had been deceived by that older husband, but he dared not say more. “Very well,” he said. “Write down all the details yourself. I’ll go seek Lord Yuan’s instructions. Wait here for me.”

“Alright, thank you for your trouble.” Tieniu bowed slightly.

Seeing this, the clerk found Master Yuan and briefly explained that a hunter outside wished to request his matchmaking services, though he seemed hesitant. Yuan Heqing immediately asked, “Speak plainly—is there some issue?”

“The one waiting outside, Tieniu, is seventeen years old—a strapping lad over six feet tall, handsome in appearance, with manners and speech beyond the common folk. Yet he’s taken a fancy to a widower who’s been cast off. This humble servant fears the young man has been bewitched and deceived by that widower. If Your Honor were to meet him, perhaps you could dissuade him, sparing us a match made in misery.”

Yuan Heqing replied, “Since you say he’s well-mannered and not vulgar, he likely has his own convictions. Besides, you haven’t even seen this husband-to-be. We shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

The clerk thought about it and conceded, bowing his hands. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Let’s go see for ourselves.” Yuan Heqing stepped out the door. The clerk’s concerns weren’t entirely unfounded, but one couldn’t apply the same logic to every situation.

They arrived at the council chamber.

Huangfu Tieniu bowed to greet Master Yuan. Yuan Heqing observed him—this man truly didn’t resemble an ordinary hunter. “Show me your identity records.”

“Please examine it, Your Honor.”

Yuan Heqing’s brow furrowed as he studied the document. “You’re from the Huangfu family of Lu Capital? Then your biological father is still alive. If you’re to be betrothed, you must return to Lu Capital. As the saying goes: ‘Parents’ command, matchmaker’s word.’”

“Your Honor, I corrected my household registration two years ago.” Huangfu Tieniu pulled his registry from his robe and handed it over. “Truth be told, when I was drowning but not yet unconscious, my father said there was no need to search anymore—I should leave it to fate.”

Yuan Heqing looked up in surprise.

“My birth mother passed away early in the Huangfu household. Surviving my childhood was a struggle. Had my adoptive father not rescued me, I would have perished long ago,” Huangfu Tieniu explained. After being adopted, he learned hunting in the deep mountains and mastered some martial arts, never bothering to update his household register.

Later, on his deathbed, his adoptive father told him that if he didn’t want to return, he didn’t have to. He should go to Tingjiang Prefecture early to register his household status, buy land, marry a wife, and settle down there.

Yuan Heqing, who had served as a matchmaker for six years, had never encountered such a situation before. It was quite unusual. This young man, though still young, possessed a resolute demeanor and acted decisively. He was a man with his own convictions, not the sort who could be easily deceived into making a lifelong commitment with a few sweet words.

“The widower you wish to marry—”

“His name is Tang Xianling. He lives on Zheng Street in Baxing District and runs a breakfast shop.”

Upon hearing the name ‘Tang Xianling,’ Yuan Heqing felt an immediate sense of familiarity. As the young man continued, it suddenly clicked—this was the pork floss bread his husband had brought home, saying it came from Brother Tang’s breakfast shop in Baxing District.

“Is he the fifth son? Called Wu-ger?”

This time, Huangfu Tieniu looked surprised. He nodded. “That’s correct.”

“Tell me everything clearly,” Yuan Heqing demanded.

Huangfu Tieniu recounted the details meticulously, explaining how the Hu family had deceived Tang’s family into marriage and swindled their assets. Yuan Heqing listened with furrowed brows, knowing he must verify each point. When Huangfu Tieniu mentioned wanting to propose quickly, Yuan Heqing replied, “No matter how urgent, we cannot rush this decision. You return first. Tomorrow, I will visit Brother Tang’s breakfast shop to inquire.”

“As for the divorce papers you mentioned, I must see them. Commoners who are divorced rarely register it officially. They don’t know, but it’s actually best to register it at the household registry office.”

The household registry office was right on this street. Yuan Heqing pointed out its location and mentioned the office hours to prevent Huangfu Tieniu and Tang Xianling from making a wasted trip.

Huangfu Tieniu thanked him and offered payment, but Yuan Heqing replied, “Nothing is settled yet. Pay only if it succeeds.” As a matchmaker, he had no fear of being stiffed.

Once Huangfu Tieniu left, Yuan Heqing studied his information. “I’ll go next door.”

The clerk understood—Master Yuan was heading to the Registry Office.

Having just heard the full story here, he couldn’t help but feel ashamed. This Huangfu Tieniu truly had some background; no wonder his bearing and demeanor weren’t like those of an ordinary hunter. Yet his fate had been fraught with hardship. The sages uphold filial piety; it is unthinkable for a son to sue his father. Even if Huangfu Tieniu were to spread this story, people would only accuse him of being unfilial, and others would come to his father’s defense.

A mere thirteen-year-old boy, in the water… surely there was a misunderstanding?

This child is malicious, falsely accusing his father and so on.

Clerks are common among the people. They say even a tiger won’t eat its own cubs, yet there are parents who act recklessly. The young children are the most pitiful…

Yuan Heqing walked and pondered, still finding the name Tang Xianling familiar. By the time he reached the registry office, it finally clicked.

Earlier, when he returned from outside the city, he had encountered that young driver in the carriage.

Oh, and Huangfu Tieniu.

Back then, he’d been sun-dazed and resting his eyes, not paying much attention. Plus, Huangfu Tieniu sat by the open carriage curtain, backlit by the sun, making his features hard to make out. But the name ‘Tang Xianling’ had struck him as peculiar—especially the part about wanting to sue someone. The tone had been calm yet resolute, leaving an impression.

Now, recalling it carefully, Tang Xianling was young—judging by his appearance, barely over twenty. He was slender and handsome, spoke politely yet with his own convictions, clearly a man of his own mind. Huangfu Tieniu, on the other hand, had been rather taciturn that day, listening mostly to what Young Master Tang had to say.

Yuan Heqing nodded in agreement. As a matchmaker, he knew that when both partners were strong-willed, neither yielding to the other, it often led to constant quarrels after marriage. A good match required one partner to be flexible and the other firm, or vice versa, knowing when to yield and when to stand their ground.

Their appearances also complemented each other well.

Indeed.

Now, all that remained was to verify Tang Xianling’s identity, review the divorce papers, and consult his parents before proceeding to the next step—the betrothal. Huangfu Tieniu had brought the household registry today. Yuan Heqing examined it and found no issues.

“I’ve come seeking Master Song on official business,” Yuan Heqing stated formally outside.

But the yamen staff all knew they were husband and wife. Smiling, they addressed him as Master Yuan and pointed the way. Master Song was on duty today and hadn’t left.

Song Jie knew his husband’s temperament. When dealing with official matters, especially at the magistrate’s office, Yuan Heqing would never seek him out for personal reasons. Thus, Song Jie remained formal, addressing him as Master Yuan and inquiring about the matter.

Yuan Heqing explained everything in detail: “…I came to examine the household register. I want to see how the Tang and Hu families were registered when they formed their marriage alliance—whether it was a traditional marriage or a son-in-law entering the wife’s family.”

In Fengyuan City, matters concerning the citizens—marriages, funerals, births, and population counts—were managed by the household registry office. As a matchmaker, Yuan also occasionally had official dealings with them.

Song Jie replied, “I see. I’ve met Mr. Tang. He has clear features and speaks frankly—not the sort to spout lies.” He added, “Wait here a moment. I’ll look through the registry records.”

Yuan Heqing sat down to wait. Hearing Song Jie’s words,she added, “Then I’ll make another trip to Huangfu Tieniu’s village. Since Mr. Tang’s first marriage was sabotaged, he must be cautious about this second one. I need to see what kind of reputation Huangfu Tieniu has in the village.”

It wouldn’t be fair to assume that just because Tang Xianling, the widower, was older, this marriage meant Tang Fulang was taking advantage of Huangfu Tieniu. Moreover, relying solely on Huangfu Tieniu’s account wasn’t enough to judge his character; they needed to consult the villagers.

Only then could they ensure a good match.

Song Jie knew his husband handled matters with great patience and meticulousness, and he fully supported this approach.

After all this bustle, noon arrived.

With Tang Xianling on his mind, Huangfu Tieniu rode his mule straight to the main street of the Baxing District. He dismounted and led the mule by hand. Remembering Tang Xianling’s request for lunch, and knowing he’d been busy all morning, he stopped at a steamed bun shop to buy buns and then at a wonton shop to buy wontons.

“Whose family are you from? I saw you fetching water this morning,” someone asked from behind.

Huangfu Tieniu recognized the voice—it belonged to the old woman from the sugar-oil pancake shop. He glanced over with a cold expression. Having spent years hunting in the mountains, he carried an intimidating aura when silent, striking fear into others.

The Zhao family matriarch was startled, taking half a step back, hesitating to approach for further questions.

“I’ll return the bowl later,” Huangfu Tieniu said.

The dumpling shop owner, seeing the customer wanting three portions for himself—which would mean multiple trips—asked, “Are you going to the Tang household? Why not let me deliver them for you?” She had seen this young gentleman leaving the Tang residence earlier that morning.

“Yes, thank you.” Huangfu Tieniu paid the money, then led his mule toward the Tang residence.

Jiang Yun opened the door.

Tang Xianling had just finished a busy morning. He steamed the morning’s sun-dried vegetables before hanging them out again, while yesterday’s purchases were still drying. His main task was preparing the venison Tieniu had given him. He set aside a fresh piece, planning to serve it for Tieniu’s evening meal, which would be eaten early today.

He planned to make grilled meat rice then.

Half the remaining venison was cured into ‘smoked meat,’ hung from the rafters in the kitchen. The other half became ‘dried venison.’ Early that morning, he lit charcoal in the two ovens outside his shop. Slicing the venison into even strips, he placed them inside for slow-roasting. Soon, the aroma of meat filled the air.

When the first batch was roasting, the aroma wafted out as soon as the shop door opened. Passersby grew curious and drew near, wanting to ask Shopkeeper Tang what he was cooking.

Tang Xianling: …Sneaky.

Then he handed a familiar customer a strip of dried venison.

“I caught a deer and roasted some jerky. Not for sale.”

The customer blushed, protesting that he shouldn’t take any. But the aroma was irresistible—what a dilemma!

Tang Xianling recognized the familiar face of a regular foodie. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been so generous, handing out jerky to anyone who came by. Smiling, he said, “You’re a regular. You came sniffing the aroma—give it a try. I won’t give any more than this.”

Mr. Tang’s words weren’t exactly polite or tactful—they were even a bit blunt and “harsh.” What did he mean by “you came just for the smell”? Yet the customer didn’t take offense at all. Instead, he felt Mr. Tang was a straightforward and honest man.

This was likely the innate talent of a born merchant.

It’s often said: Merchants should greet and see off customers with a smile, neither appearing slick and insincere nor too stiff and taciturn, lest guests feel neglected.

A good shopkeeper naturally radiates warmth, yet mustn’t be too weak.

But Tang Xianling was different. His “warmth” stemmed entirely from his own skills—a blacksmith must first forge his own tools. His words were blunt, sometimes even harsh, yet patrons didn’t feel offended. Instead, they thought, “Mr. Tang has character,” knowing he wouldn’t push his advantage.

I suspect Boss Tang is the type who responds to kindness, not force.

The customer accepted the offering. Before even bringing it to his mouth, he apologized: “Oh my, it smells so good! I’ll take the liberty of accepting this from Boss Tang.”

“Not at all,” Tang Xianling replied with a warm smile.

He, too, was savoring the dried venison, seasoned with five-spice. Though it required generous spices, the lean, red deer meat tasted remarkably like beef—yet firmer, with coarser grain and satisfying chew. Far from being tough, it held a subtle tenderness, proving even more delicious than five-spice beef jerky.

So fragrant.

The diner took a bite and was stunned, wishing he could buy some with silver coins—deer meat was precious.

Seeing the eager look in the other’s eyes, Tang Xianling’s alarm bells rang. “No selling, no selling. I’m saving this for my own family.”

The diner was amused and sighed again, “I thought Mr. Tang only excelled at breakfast dishes, but never imagined your grilled venison would be equally exceptional. Should you ever open a grill restaurant, I’ll save up silver to support your business.“

”Thank you for your kind words.” 

Tang Xianling: I’m opening a restaurant someday!

The customer: “This venison is costly. Since I’ve received part of a leg, it would be too bold to take it without payment. Here’s ten wen for you, Mr. Tang—”

“How much does a whole deer cost?” Tang Xianling asked curiously.

Jiang Yun, who had been listening nearby, also leaned in with interest. The customer explained, “In the Eastern Market, only the grandest restaurants serve this delicacy. A single platter of grilled venison costs at least one tael of silver.”

Only nobles and the wealthy could afford such a delicacy.

Jiang Yun gasped inwardly. At that price, Tieniu had actually given Wu-ger an entire deer.

Tang Xianling was stunned, too. He’d always measured his daily expenses in wen coins.

“I said I’d let you try it—I won’t charge you just because it’s pricey.” Tang Xianling waved off the payment, then shut the door decisively with a smile.

Once the shop door closed, there was no way he’d open it again for this grilled meat.

Jiang Yun murmured, “One tael of silver… how much must that deer have cost, in money?”

She had previously feared that Tieniu and Wu-ger’s marriage was too hasty, dithering, and hesitating. With the Hu family’s precedent, she truly dreaded another ill-fated match. But with Old Tang’s health and the Zhao family watching over him, Wu-ger suddenly seemed like a piece of meat everyone wanted a bite of.

Under these circumstances, Tieniu was the only viable choice.

But Jiang Yun was still shaken by the Hu family affair. She’d urged them to send the betrothal gifts quickly, yet the moment Tieniu left, her fears resurfaced, making her hesitate again—

To Tang Xianling, Jiang Yun seemed to be suffering from some sort of PTSD.

“Probably ten taels of silver or more,” Tang Xianling guessed.

Jiang Yun fixed her gaze on Wu-ger, her expression steadying. “I feel somewhat reassured now. Back then, the Hu family didn’t send you anything. When your eldest sister married Lin Hu, he even came to help out at our family shop. But your father suspected Lin Hu was trying to pry out the secret recipe for the mutton soup, so he kept a close watch…”

Old Tang really did see everyone as a thief trying to steal his recipe.

Who cares.

Tang Xianling thought to himself, let that recipe take him to the grave.

Huangfu Tieniu giving a deer was like a modern suitor gifting luxury goods—Tang Xianling recalled the saying: Money follows love.

There was truth to it.

Back in college, his pockets were always light, yet he loved good food. Only his closest friends would borrow money from him or receive treats from him.

Money was tight, so giving it meant he valued the friendship.

So when Huangfu Tieniu knocked on the shop door, Jiang Yun hesitated to open it at first. She feared it was another customer lured by the aroma. Only when Huangfu Tieniu spoke up did she open the door—and promptly shut it again, her enthusiasm evident.

“Tieniu, have you eaten?”

Huangfu Tieniu glanced at Tang Xianling and answered first, “I haven’t had lunch yet. I bought some steamed buns, and there are some wontons too—the wonton shop will deliver them shortly.”

“Great, you’ve gone to the trouble.” Jiang Yun didn’t know what else to say, but the more she looked at Tieniu, the more satisfied she felt. “I’ll open up in a bit.”

Tang Xianling handed the roasted jerky to Tieniu. “Try some. It’s delicious.”

“Alright.” Tieniu took them but didn’t eat. He looked down at Tang Xianling and blurted out, “I asked Master Yuan Heqing. He’s a government matchmaker. He said if there’s a divorce decree, it’s best to register it at the household registration office.”

“Then after lunch, we’ll go together.” Tang Xianling nodded immediately. It was better to handle this sooner rather than later.

So Tang Xianling tidied up the kitchen, Tieniu went to fetch water, and Jiang Yun stayed at the front shop to open the door and receive bowls from the wonton shop. She also rearranged their own bowls. Hearing the wonton shop inquire about Tieniu, Jiang Yun felt nervous and lied: “He’s a distant relative from the village, just visiting me.”

“From your sister-in-law’s family?” guessed the wonton shop owner. Old Tang and Jiang Yun had no other relatives; anyone from the village must be connected to Tang Qiao’s family, whom Jiang Yun had married into. She smiled and praised, “What a fine young man! He’s sharp and strong, truly hardworking.”

Having spun her tale, Jiang Yun settled into a calm demeanor. “Yes,” she confirmed. “He’s been running around nonstop. Old Tang fell ill, so I had to tend to him. Wu-ger couldn’t manage everything alone—we were short-handed.”

“I see,” the dumpling shop owner replied, taking the bowl without lingering further. Business demanded her attention.

Jiang Yun saw her off, closed the door, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Before Wu-ger and Tieniu’s marriage was settled, the matter couldn’t be broadcast everywhere. Her Wu-ger’s reputation couldn’t afford any further damage.

Noon hadn’t arrived yet; they ate lunch in haste.

Tang Xianling carried a basket filled with evidence collected by Old Tang. He followed Tieniu out, leaving the mule behind—he and Tieniu didn’t get along well enough to share a ride, and hailing a cab was easier anyway.

They left openly, so openly that neighbors on the main street greeted them. Tang Xianling simply said, “We’re going shopping.” 

“I forgot to buy some spices yesterday.”

No one suspected a thing.

Mainly because: Huangfu Tieniu was far too young. He looked seventeen or eighteen, right at marriageable age. But he was handsome. A lad like that—when his family arranged a match, they certainly wouldn’t pair him with a widower.

But Wu-ger was twenty-three this year!

“Mother, you must be mistaken. I recall Wu-ger Tang was only in his early twenties,” Lu Dalang interjected.

Chen Qiaolian instantly grew wary. “How can you remember so precisely?” She herself had heard the Zhao family matriarch say Wu-ger was much older.

Lu Dalang retorted, “You were the one grumbling back then, saying it was pitiful that Wu-ger became a widower at just twenty. But that Juren only passed away last winter. This year he’s twenty-one, isn’t he?”

Seeing that Dalang had no ulterior motives, Chen Qiaolian relaxed. She added, “Let the Zhao family matriarch cover for me. I knew something sounded off when I heard it.”

The old lady of the Zhao family kept saying things like “Fifth Brother Tang is quite old” and “He must be twenty-three or twenty-four by now,” which only confused Chen Qiaolian. It wasn’t her own child’s age, so she didn’t pay much attention, just listened and let it go.

Still, after that, Chen Qiaolian dared not mention Wu-ger much in front of her eldest son. He was such a glutton, and she truly feared it might come true what that man had said: that her son might develop such thoughts toward Wu-ger just to satisfy his appetite.

Wu-ger was a good ger, but he wasn’t a match for Daliang.

The moment the Zhao family matriarch saw Wu-ger walking down the main street with a young gentleman, she rushed out to inquire. Her first stop was the wonton shop, where she witnessed the young gentleman buying wontons.

“He’s a distant relative from his eldest sister’s husband’s family.”

“He’s here to help out with the work.”

“He seems kind-hearted and quite handsome. I didn’t ask if he’s married, but he looks young—maybe seventeen or eighteen?”

The wonton shop owner said.

The Zhao family matriarch nodded, smiling warmly. “Exactly. When I saw him following Wu-ger out, it looked like an older brother taking care of his younger sibling. I thought he must be some distant relative of the Tang family.”

“Actually, Wu-ger is quite old enough now. I happen to know a young man—a proper farmer with good land. He’s only twenty-seven or twenty-eight, never been married. He’d be just right for Wu-ger.”

The dumpling shop owner’s wife dared not interject. Wu-ger wasn’t her child—how could she gossip behind his back about whether he was a suitable match? Besides, a man of good standing still unmarried at twenty-seven or twenty-eight must have some serious flaw.

The Zhao family matriarch wasn’t exactly a saint herself.

“Heh heh, if you’re so concerned, you’d best ask Wu-ger’s own parents. We mere neighbors with no real connection can’t make such a big decision.”

Hearing this, the Zhao family matriarch’s smile stiffened. She said no more and returned home.

Wu-ger’s marriage matter—someone must inform Jiang Yun immediately.

The matriarch hadn’t misunderstood the relationship between Tang Xianling and Tieniu. Rather, she feared that some distant male relative of the Tang family might hold sway, making it difficult to deceive them and extract favors from the Tang household.

That young man was tall and strong, with a fierce demeanor. Fortunately, he was only related through the eldest sister-in-law’s family, keeping him at a distance. If he were a close relative, it would be disastrous—

Still, this meant they must find a matchmaker without delay.

 ━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Song Jie retrieved the Tang family file from the Baxing District archive rack. The top page listed household members: three daughters marked “married,” while Tang Xianling’s entry remained blank.

Resident records in Fengyuan City were surveyed and updated every three or five years.

“The last revision of the registry was three years ago,” Song Jie remarked.

The registry alone couldn’t prove anything conclusively. Though he suspected that if Master Tang intended to sue, the substance of his claims was likely eighty to ninety percent true—otherwise, why would he dare face the magistrate?

Yuan Heqing concurred, “But evidence is still needed. Our belief alone doesn’t count.”

“True enough,” Song Jie nodded.

Just then, a clerk arrived with news: visitors were waiting outside—Huangfu Tieniu and Tang Xianling.

Song Jie and Yuan Heqing exchanged glances. “Show them in,” Song Jie instructed.

The two rose and went out.

The moment Tang Xianling saw them, he paused. “The customer who bought the bread?”

“Precisely.” Song Jie smiled, then turned serious. “Mr. Tang, you’ve come regarding the divorce certificate registration, I presume?”

Tang Xianling, pleased that Song Jie got straight to the point, immediately pulled a wooden box from his basket, opened it, and showed it to him. “This was left by my father, and here is the divorce letter Hu Kang gave me. I originally wanted to find a litigation lawyer, but they said I lacked the virtue of a wife and should repay grievances with virtue—”

Yuan Heqing’s expression darkened at once. “Repaying grievances with virtue? How then does one repay virtue?”

“One should repay grievances with justice, and virtue with virtue,” Song Jie replied first. After carefully examining the divorce letter and the ledger left by Father Tang, he said gravely, “To break one’s promise so—how unbecoming of a scholar.”

He then handed the documents to Yuan Heqing to review.

Yuan Heqing’s expression turned to outright anger upon reading it.

“No need for a litigation lawyer. Husband, you can draft the lawsuit yourself for Mr. Tang. With solid evidence, no lawyer’s eloquence will be required—saving you both time and money,” Yuan Heqing declared bluntly.

Song Jie couldn’t help but chuckle. His husband had served as a matchmaker for six years, always steady and meticulous in his work. When arranging marriages, he would check and recheck, dreading that any oversight might lead to an unhappy union. While he handled official business impartially, he rarely addressed Song Jie so familiarly in front of others.

It seemed Hu Kang’s actions had truly angered his husband.

Song Jie readily agreed.

“I’ll draft the lawsuit petition immediately.”