The night was still deep.

Tang Xianling crept out of bed, carrying a basin to fetch water from the stove room. Soon, sounds stirred in the east room. Feeling guilty like a thief, Tang Xianling was quick to whisper, “Mother, it’s me.”

“I’m a bit thirsty.”

A flimsy excuse—he usually slept straight through until it was time to open shop.

Jiang Yun, who had just lit a candle in the east room, promptly put the firelighter back. “Alright.”

Tang Xianling secretly scrubbed his trousers under the eaves. After washing them, he hung them toward the corner of the wall, wishing he could hang them eight zhang away from his own courtyard, all the way to the middle of the backyard. Naturally, that was impossible.

After finishing all this, Tang Xianling shook the water droplets from his hands and returned to his room. He tossed and turned, unable to sleep, thinking about this and that, though without the usual worries.

Three years of the apocalypse had taken his closest family. Now transported to this world, Tang Xianling told himself to look on the bright side of everything, brimming with drive. Yet these past few days, inexplicable melancholy and longing had crept in.

No more thinking about it now.

Tang Xianling sprawled out in a sprawling ‘大’ shape, muttering to himself: When someone cares, they become vulnerable and sentimental.

But this feeling wasn’t unpleasant. On the contrary, it brought a sense of peace and even a touch of happiness.

He would have a new home.

Lost in thought, Tang Xianling drifted off, though his sleep was light. This time, he had a few dreams. He faintly heard the sound of a wooden clapper outside—the night soothed collector had arrived. He could sleep for another half-hour.

Inside the inn.

Huangfu Tieniu had chosen the cheapest room available, though he hadn’t opted for the communal dormitory. He valued cleanliness; the communal dorm smelled unpleasant. He’d also woken in the dead of night. The pitch-black room held no candles, and Huangfu Tieniu’s face flushed crimson.

…How could he have dreamed such an improper, ill-mannered dream?

He’d been too forward with Tang Xianling.

Before dawn, Jiang Yun rose first in the Tang family courtyard.

“Wu-ger? Wu-ger?”

In the west room, Tang Xianling stirred at the sound, responding groggily, “I’m awake, Mother. I’ll get dressed.”

“Are you feeling unwell?” Jiang Yun’s voice carried a hint of concern. “Your face was flushed last night.”

Tang Xianling rolled out of bed in one swift motion, dressing briskly as he said, “Nothing, nothing. I’m perfectly fine, Mother.”

“That’s good.” Jiang Yun headed into the kitchen to begin her chores.

Tang Xianling hurriedly got up, fumbled for a candle in the darkness, and said, “Mother, when Tieniu comes later, don’t mention this to him. I really am fine—”

Before he could finish, the shop door creaked open.

“Must be Tieniu,” Jiang Yun murmured.

Tang Xianling: “I’ll get it.”

As the door swung open, moonlight and starlight allowed them to exchange a glance. An inexplicable, slightly awkward yet faintly flirtatious atmosphere hung between them.

Tang Xianling: …

This feeling of being a greenhorn was utterly helpless yet strangely exhilarating.

“Come in.”

Huangfu Tieniu: “I… I’ll go fetch water.” He dared not look at Tang Xianling for long, lest he recall how he’d dared to be so forward with him in his dreams. He really was hopeless.

If Tang Xianling found out, he’d only say: “We’re even.”

Last night, I dreamt of getting up to no good with Tieniu, too!

The two went about their tasks, still a bit awkward. But once the shop opened and they got busy, the atmosphere returned to normal—they worked together seamlessly. Huangfu Tieniu had only been helping out for three days, yet he was already quite skilled, knowing exactly what Boss Tang needed and when. He assisted flawlessly, moving tables and passing items without a single mistake.

Some customers even teased, “The young man Boss Tang hired is so efficient, saving us a lot of trouble. We can get our breakfast earlier now.”

“He is very good,” Tang Xianling said.

Huangfu Tieniu carried the stove with his head bowed, his face mostly showing shame. Tang Xianling praised him, yet in his dream, he had bullied Tang Xianling so badly.

The bread was placed into the oven.

“Mr. Tang, could you make the stuffed pancakes first?”

“Yes, start with a stuffed pancake—we’ll eat while we wait.”

“I think a stuffed pancake paired with a red bean pot sticker would be perfect. We wouldn’t even need lunch.”

Cui Dabao arrived a bit late today, still yawning constantly. Hearing this, he said, “My husband loves pork floss bread. Stuffed pancakes are delicious, but my father didn’t get to try any yesterday. Same as usual—two stuffed pancakes, one pork floss bread, and one red bean pot cake.”

“The red bean pot cake will be a bit later—my apologies. I’ll heat the griddle first,” Tang Xianling replied.

Cui Dabao: “Then I’ll come back later.” He wasn’t one to shy away from trouble.

Since adding egg-stuffed pancakes to the menu, mornings were hectic—no time to think about the pants hanging in his courtyard corner, let alone feel embarrassed.

The griddle sizzled as Tang Xianling began making the pancakes.

Yesterday, the pancakes were ready late, and by the time Cui Dabao got home, his father had already left for work. Today, he grabbed the pancakes and hurried back, arriving just before his father headed out.

Father Cui: “Why did you buy this for me? You kids eat it. Look how rushed you were.” He was pleased inside—Dabao was such a dutiful son.

“Here, Dad. It’s a stuffed pancake—a new item from Master Tang’s. Try it. I think you’ll like it.” Cui Dabao handed him one.

His father disliked sweet-and-salty flavors, finding them “off-putting.” The pork floss bread had a savory, scallion-infused meat floss filling, but the bread itself carried a milky aroma—something his father wasn’t used to. Yet yesterday, the moment Cui Dabao tasted the egg-stuffed pancake, he knew his father would love it.

Not wanting to hurt his son’s filial heart, Father Cui readily accepted the pancake. He resolved to say it was delicious regardless of whether it suited his taste, to praise Dabao. But after taking a bite, he let out a surprised “Eh!”

Cui Dabao immediately perked up, feeling triumphant. Couldn’t he tell what his father was thinking?

His dad was just too indulgent, too eager to praise him!

“Underestimated me, huh? Tasty, right?” Cui Dabao said without a care for propriety.

Father Cui laughed heartily. “You know what? This fresh pancake is really good. Did you buy some for Douzi?”

“Douzi doesn’t really like this. I got him some bread,” Cui Dabao replied.

Father Cui nodded. “Alright then. I’m heading out. You and Douzi stay home and take care of yourselves.”

Even though Cui Dabao was this old, Father Cui still treated him like a child. Fortunately, Cui Dabao wasn’t a reckless troublemaker. He responded with a grunt, took a bite of his egg-stuffed pancake, and mumbled, “Where could I possibly run off to? I’m going to buy some sweet red bean pot stickers later to satisfy my sweet tooth.”

Douzi loved sweet things, and he also loved salty-sweet flavors.

Father Cui held the pancake and ate it all the way home. The more he chewed, the more fragrant it became—the dough mixed with egg was soft yet slightly crispy, the sauce flavorful. Paired with smoked pork and Chinese cabbage, it was rich and savory. After devouring the whole pancake, his stomach felt full and satisfied.

Dabao had found a delicious treat this time.

Business was as usual, and everything sold out before noon.

It was just past eleven.

Tang Xianling sat to rest for a moment while Huangfu Tieniu packed up their belongings. Tang Xianling said to Jiang Yun, “Mother, I’ll make locust flower wheat porridge for lunch. We won’t buy food outside. If you’d like some millet congee, I can make a bowl for us to share.”

Barley rice tends to be a bit dry, so porridge is the perfect accompaniment.

Jiang Yun replied, “Then go get a bowl. You don’t need to cook it.”

Before, when Father Tang fell ill, and money was tight everywhere, Jiang Yun, used to saving, would never have bought porridge. But now things were different. With income coming in, she saw her Wu-ger had worked hard all morning and was tired, so she decided not to make it.

Three or four wen could buy a large bowl of porridge.

“I fetched water. Wash your face. I’m not hungry now,” Huangfu Tieniu said. “Are you hungry?”

Tang Xianling shook his head and smiled. “I’m not very hungry either. I’ll eat later.”

The family had prepared breakfast earlier. Some leftover scraps from roasting could fill the stomach, so they had already eaten.

After tidying and washing the dishes, Huangfu Tieniu went to fetch water. The water jar was empty. He then noticed a pair of underwear propped up in the corner between the stove and the wall.

Huangfu Tieniu glanced at it briefly at first, not looking closely. But when he picked up the water bucket, something occurred to him, and he glanced again. This time, it was as if his gaze had been scalded by the underwear. He immediately looked away, his face burning as he gripped the wooden bucket handle tightly.

“What are you looking at—” Tang Xianling stopped mid-sentence, noticing his own underwear.

The atmosphere turned awkwardly suggestive.

Tang Xianling cleared his throat twice, feigning composure. “Everyone washes their underwear.”

“Right.” Huangfu Tieniu nodded, his face flushed crimson.

Tang Xianling: …

Somehow, both men exchanged a glance and burst into laughter.

A knowing smile, sweet in its unspoken understanding.

“I’ll go wash the locust flowers.”

“Then I’ll fetch water!”

Locust flower wheat porridge was simple to make. Mix locust flowers, eggs, and flour evenly, getting the proportions just right, then steam it in a bamboo steamer. After steaming, fluff it up. The most crucial part was seasoning and drizzling oil. Tang Xianling had heard from his college friends that back home, you could make “wheat rice” with just about anything.

Potato wheat rice, green bean wheat rice, vegetable wheat rice.

Naturally, with all things growing, eating locust flower, wheat, and rice was also a seasonal ritual.

Tang Xianling chopped scallions generously, adding plenty. He mixed in his homemade spice blend, garlic paste, and soy sauce. A splash of hot oil ignited the aromas. This dressing was tossed with the fluffed locust flower wheat porridge. The locust flowers carried a natural sweet fragrance that blended with the wheat flour, creating a simple, earthy dish where the inherent flavors of the ingredients shone through.

Served with millet congee.

Simple and delicious.

Jiang Yun returned carrying a large bowl of congee. As she dished it out, setting aside a bowl for Old Tang, she said, “Just went to buy the congee and spotted Madam Ding heading this way—scared me half to death!”

Huangfu Tieniu:!

“Thankfully, she turned the corner toward Lu’s shop,” Jiang Yun finished. Her heart had been pounding then, fearing it might be the matchmaker sent by the Zhao family matriarch. She wasn’t one for harsh words.

Tang Xianling handed the large bowl to Tieniu. “You stir it. My hands are getting a bit tired.” What was this dumb ox afraid of? Just because Matchmaker Ding came to his door, did he have to agree to the match the sugar-oil cake shop arranged?

His face turned pale.

Huangfu Tieniu, given a task, got to work cheerfully.

Tang Xianling couldn’t help but smile as he chatted with Jiang Yun: “So it’s the Lu family’s celebration.”

“Yes, I was wondering about it too. Lu Dalang is over eighteen now. I suppose they’re looking for a match for him. Sanniang is still young, so there’s no rush.” Jiang Yun nodded repeatedly, thinking she’d have to go out this afternoon to ask around. Old Zhao’s wife hadn’t been seen in days—who knew if she’d returned yet.

After lunch, Tang Xianling told Tieniu not to bother with chores and said he’d take a nap.

Huangfu Tieniu stammered, “Sleep… sleep—”

“Aren’t you tired?” Seeing Tieniu’s awkward expression, Tang Xianling’s courage grew. She pressed further: “Oh ho! What are you thinking about, Tieniu? We have a bed frame at home. I’ll prop it up in front of the shop for you to lie down and rest.”

The Tang household had plenty of beds and chests—left over from when the three sisters were still unmarried. Later, half the courtyard was rented out, and while some furniture was sold, enough pieces remained to cobble together a makeshift resting spot for Huangfu Tieniu.

With the heat, no quilts were needed—just a bamboo mat and a light, cool blanket.

“Thanks, Tang Xianling.” Huangfu Tieniu was actually quite pleased by the unexpected compliment.

“Silly.”

The two of them fumbled around setting up the makeshift bed. Jiang Yun had gone out, saying she was buying meat. She was quite enthusiastic about it, so Tang Xianling didn’t bother her. He figured Jiang Yun was probably off gossiping.

He assumed she was gossiping about the Lu family.

Zhou Xiangping, the butcher’s wife, was a sharp and spirited woman. Lately, she’d been buying bread from Jiang Yun’s shop, and since the butcher’s family bought pork daily, Jiang Yun and Zhou Xiangping had grown closer.

“Auntie, you’re here? I saved your meat—just take it.” Zhou Xiangping spotted Jiang Yun early and greeted her warmly.

Jiang Yun paid and had her meat packed, but didn’t leave. “Little Zhou, do you know where the Zhao family’s old lady went?”

Zhou Xiangping chuckled. Who asked such a direct question about someone else’s private affairs? She replied casually, “Haven’t seen her for two or three days.”

“Today’s the third day,” Jiang Yun noted.

Zhou Xiangping replied, “Then she should be coming back soon. I heard from her daughter-in-law that she went to visit a distant cousin. They said it’s quite a distance, not near the city outskirts, but somewhere around a town.”

Jiang Yun’s heart sank. She knew it—this old lady wouldn’t find a good match for her Wu-ger.

“Auntie, did you need something from Mrs. Zhao?”

Jiang Yun flustered: “No, not really. I was just asking.”

 ━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Before long, with a few well-placed questions, Zhou Xiangping coaxed the truth out of Jiang Yun. She whispered to Aunt Jiang beside her, her tone sincere: “You absolutely mustn’t agree to it. Wu-ger has finally gotten back on his feet. His business is thriving—everyone on the street knows it!”

“Of course, I won’t agree. I’m just afraid…”

“What are you afraid of, Auntie? Does she have the power to force a respectable husband into marriage?”

Jiang Yun nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. “You’re right. Wu-ger isn’t the same person he used to be.” She was simply too timid, afraid of dealing with people and refusing them, unsure how to find the words to decline.

“Marriage is about mutual consent, not coercion. The Zhao family isn’t some thug gang hooking up with officials. We’re all common folk—who’s stronger than whom?” Zhou Xiangping’s sharp words reassured Aunt Jiang. She then beamed, “Look at your neighbors—now that’s a match made in heaven about to happen.”

Jiang Yun: “Oh? I saw Matchmaker Ding go to their house at noon.”

“You probably didn’t know—shortly after, Chen Qiaolian took Lu Dalang out. They must have gone for a proper meeting.” Zhou Xiangping said cheerfully.

This was how a proper match was sought—both parties had to be willing and get to know each other properly.

Jiang Yun: “That’s wonderful.”

Perhaps gossip shouldn’t be spoken behind closed doors. Come evening, the old lady from the Zhao family—the one who sold sugar-oil cakes—returned home. When she left, she’d been dressed in fine clothes, full of vigor, an old woman with a straight back. Now she came back hunched over, pounding her back with one hand, groaning, “Oh my, oh my! The bumpy ride nearly shook my bones out of my body!”

Zhao Dalang and his wife helped their mother-in-law sit down and settled her in, bringing hot water and food. Once she caught her breath, her complexion still poor, she launched into a tirade against Uncle Zhao, saying this family was so stingy they wouldn’t spend a single money, stubbornly refusing to let their youngest son marry, just waiting for her to foot the bill.

The eldest daughter-in-law hesitated: “But Mother, are you really going to pay? Otherwise, maybe—”

“Maybe what?” The old lady frowned unhappily. The Tang family was a juicy morsel. She’d set her sights on it for Second Son, and she wouldn’t rest until she’d taken a bite.

The eldest daughter-in-law dared not say more, only signaling to her husband: Mother favors Second Brother to the point of absurdity. Speak up—are we really to pay the matchmaker ourselves?

Zhao Dalang muttered sullenly, “The matchmaker’s fee is two taels, right?”

The old matriarch shot her eldest son a look, catching the implication. She didn’t want to pay this matchmaker fee to an outsider, knowing she’d be at a disadvantage, yet she couldn’t let go of this “prize.” Finally, she declared, “Fine, I’ll go talk to her.”

“Her Wu-ger is a widower—not exactly a pure-hearted ger. Why bother with a matchmaker at all?”

“Do you expect a grand wedding procession with three letters, six gifts, and a flower-adorned palanquin?”

It was late, and the old lady had been exhausted for days. She was too worn out to move, so she rested after dinner, planning to have a proper talk with Jiang Yun tomorrow. Then she heard her eldest daughter-in-law mention that the Lu family had hired Matchmaker Ding. The old lady muttered to herself: “What a coincidence. Hiring a matchmaker at this time—just showing off for whom?”

The Tang and Lu families were neighbors. If the Lu family hired a matchmaker, she’d have to go over to the Tang family to discuss the match herself. She feared Jiang Yun would get suspicious, creating obstacles for the marriage and making her seem dry and lacking in propriety.

Thus, the old lady also harbored some resentment toward the Lu family.

Not long after noon that day, Yuan Heqing also paid a visit. Jiang Yun was absent at the time, while Huangfu Tieniu and Tang Xianling were tidying the bedding in the shop. Seeing Master Yuan arrive, they hurriedly served tea. After brief polite exchanges, they got straight to the point.

“I’ve drafted the betrothal letter and the gift list. The engagement ceremony is set for the 29th. This gift list requires an additional betrothal gift. I’ve come to ask Huangfu Tieniu what that gift should be so I can include it,” Yuan Heqing stated.

Tang Xianling blinked rapidly: “Should I step aside then?” This was essentially a detailed inventory of everything Tieniu had given him!

“No need,” Huangfu Tieniu replied.

Tang Xianling hadn’t even moved his feet when he said he’d step aside. Now he smiled and stayed put—he wanted to see this.

Seeing Tang Xianling’s reaction, Yuan Heqing understood their close bond. He naturally said nothing more, picked up his brush, and looked at Tieniu, signaling it was time to speak.

Huangfu Tieniu opened his mouth and laid out his entire fortune.

Yuan Heqing grew increasingly uneasy as he wrote. He paused, tilted his head, and asked, “This is a list of betrothal gifts, not your entire personal wealth.”

The worth of an ordinary person naturally couldn’t compare to that of a great merchant. Yuan Heqing knew immediately that this represented Huangfu Tieniu’s entire fortune.

One tiger skin, two fox skins, one ginseng root, and three hundred and twenty-seven taels.

After listing his assets, Huangfu Tieniu added, “Wouldn’t it be better to have silver and cash in pairs? I can add a pair of wild geese and include all the customary gifts.”

Though called a betrothal gift list, anyone could see this was Huangfu Tieniu’s entire fortune.

To marry Tang Xianling with his entire household fortune—he was putting everything on the line.

“I understand. Write it down this way,” Huangfu Tieniu affirmed.

Yuan Heqing glanced at the pair. Since Huangfu Tieniu insisted and Tang Xianling offered no objection, he continued writing out the full list. He also mentioned that common bridal gifts should include sugar and wine. Huangfu Tieniu listened intently, committing every detail to memory.

After finishing and confirming that the list was correct, Yuan Heqing prepared to leave.

Tang Xianling called out, “Lord Yuan.”

Yuan Heqing halted. Huangfu Tieniu, beside him, grew tense—fearing Tang Xianling might change his mind, yet inwardly certain he wouldn’t. Still, unease lingered.

Such is the anxiety of lovers, caught between hope and fear.

“Are Tieniu and I really getting engaged on the 29th? It doesn’t sound right to me. When will we truly become husband and wife?” Tang Xianling asked.

Huangfu Tieniu’s heart settled back into place, leaving only joy.

Yuan Heqing’s face also broke into a smile as he explained: “Folk customs are simple. A date is set with the betrothal gifts, and on the 29th, your families choose an auspicious day for the wedding procession. I’ll write the wedding invitation then.”

This was the three letters and six rites—even simplified to fit the schedule, not a single formality was skipped.

“Oh, and Huangfu Tieniu, you need to prepare the betrothal gifts. They must be delivered on the 29th.”

Tang Xianling mentally calculated, “That’s only three days away! Perfect timing since I’m off work.”

Working five days and resting two meant the twenty-ninth fell right on his ‘day off’. He could bathe the day before, tidy himself up, change into fresh clothes, and await Huangfu Tieniu and Master Yuan’s arrival.

“Is that too rushed? If it’s too rushed—” Yuan Heqing deliberately trailed off.

Huangfu Tieniu: “Not rushed at all.”

Tang Xianling: “No, no, no—perfect timing.”

The two spoke in unison, utterly delighted with the engagement date.

Yuan Heqing wore a teasing smile on his face as he turned away, hands behind his back.

“Lord Yuan seems to be mocking our eagerness,” Tang Xianling remarked, though he felt no shame whatsoever. “I want to marry you sooner rather than later.”

A silly grin spread across Huangfu Tieniu’s youthful, spirited face.

That day, the wedding bed was prepared, as Tieniu needed to return to arrange the betrothal gifts. Though eager, Huangfu Tieniu hadn’t left early. Truth be told, his mule was swift, so he lingered at the shop, filling the water vats. While Tang Xianling smoked meats and made pork floss, he assisted on his side. Only as dusk fell and the city gates neared closing did Huangfu Tieniu lead his mule away.

The neighbors were used to this routine, merely remarking, “Why is the young helper from the Tang household leaving so early today?”

“Something came up at his place,” Tang Xianling replied with a smile, brushing off the question.

They closed shop early and retired for the night.

Tang Xianling gazed at the overflowing water jars, then went to collect his trousers. How to describe it? His heart swelled with anticipation and a touch of sweetness. He and Huangfu Tieniu would soon be betrothed…

The next day, the shop opened on schedule. He and Jiang Yun were swamped with work. Customers noticed: “Hey, where’s your handsome helper? Why isn’t he here today?”

“He went back to his hometown to handle some matters,” Tang Xianling replied, his hands never stopping.

Jiang Yun, advancing in age, sometimes had poor memory. Especially when things got hectic, she’d forget things. Tang Xianling simply stopped letting her assist in the kitchen, handling everything himself. Jiang Yun stuck to her original role: taking payments and delivering bread.

“My sincere apologies,” Tang Xianling told the customers.

“No problem, no problem.”

Ding Quan ordered six bread rolls that day. Technically, there was a purchase limit, but since the egg-stuffed pancakes had been introduced, the bread business wasn’t as hot—though naturally, they still sold out completely. The pork floss bread had its own loyal customers.

“Mr. Tang, I want to give these as a gift. Three doesn’t look right. I can pay five more wen.”

Tang Xianling glanced at the customer, who had been coming for three days. “Alright, no extra money. Mother, pack the bread for the customer.”

“Please use this box. I brought my own container; no need for oil paper wrapping,” Ding Quan said, handing over his food box.

Jiang Yun hesitated, almost embarrassed to touch it. The box was exquisitely crafted with carved patterns. Lifting the lid, her finger left a smudge on it. Inside was a beautiful wooden tray. Seeing the customer didn’t object, she carefully placed the bread inside, then closed the lid. She wiped her fingerprint with a cloth.

“Thank you,” Ding Quan said gratefully, lifting the box and leaving.

Young Master Wei had returned yesterday but couldn’t stay home long. He’d likely head to his usual haunts in the East and West Markets this afternoon—perfect timing.

Just as things were bustling, the Zhao family matriarch arrived, carrying a basket that seemed to hold some sugar-oil cakes. She had intended to speak with Jiang Yun about the marriage between their children, but upon seeing the crowd of customers at the Tang family shop entrance, she couldn’t squeeze her way in and stood watching nearby.

The Zhao family matriarch observed how readily the customers paid. She stood there for a while, watching them buy in groups of three or two—ordering stuffed pancakes followed by bread and steamed buns. The cheapest purchase was ten wen. Jiang Yun busied herself collecting payments, the money box jingling incessantly.

Just this morning, how much could she have earned? A couple of taels of silver, surely?

Grandma Zhao’s eyes widened. She didn’t seem impatient at all; the longer she waited, the more kind and benevolent her smile grew. The way she looked at Wu-ger was almost like gazing at a little money-drawing god.

Wonderful!

Little did the old lady know that the cheerful, patient, and obliging Wu-ger—who’d been smiling at customers and responding to requests with good humor—would soon transform into a completely different person, berating her mercilessly!

Tang Xianling: Without Tieniu to help, I’ve been exhausted all morning. This just plays right into my hands! Last time I didn’t go to the Zhao family’s doorstep with my fire poker to curse them out—this time I’ll make up for it!