Filling one’s stomach and savoring a meal are two different things; the latter requires a little extra money.

Compared to the boxed dinner they ate at dusk and the yogurt costing five wen per bowl after the meal, the yogurt seemed a bit of a waste of money. But when Mr. Tang offered to give away the leftovers for free, everyone wanted to try some.

Tang Xianling: …

The first customer smiled and said, “Since Boss Tang is offering it, I can’t be the only one to enjoy it. Let’s each take a spoonful to taste it, and thank Boss Tang.”

Everyone thanked him.

Tang Xianling smiled and said, “You’re welcome.” Although it was a gift, he didn’t want the customers digging into it with spoons—one after another—as that would be unsanitary. Instead, he used small bowls, serving each customer a single spoonful one by one.

He thought about ordering a batch of small wooden spoons specifically for desserts like yogurt and milk drinks; the current porcelain spoons were too large, meant for soup.

Perhaps because the portions were small—just a single bite per serving—the customers who got to taste it initially found it sour, really sour. But after eating it, their mouths watered, and it was quite appetizing, with a rich, creamy aroma.

Even customers who usually disliked goat’s or cow’s milk because of its gamy taste were surprised.

“This yogurt doesn’t have much of a gamy taste at all. It’s delicious.”

“It really is good.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, praising it endlessly. However, some felt that while it was tasty, it wasn’t worth five wen—they’d try it this time but wouldn’t buy it again. Meat was still better, and Mr. Tang’s boxed meals were the most fragrant.

As the evening crowd grew, Tang Xianling kept serving dishes. A latecomer asked curiously, “Have you introduced any new dishes?”

“I’ve seen the new dishes—they haven’t sold out yet.”

Someone chimed in, “Mr. Tang is selling yogurt today.”

“Yogurt?”

“It’s curd, but it seems a bit different.” The diner glanced at Mr. Huang.

Mr. Huang had finished his meal; he pulled out a silk handkerchief to wipe his mouth before saying, “Mr. Tang calls it yogurt—it’s more straightforward. Some shops in the East Market call it curd, but Mr. Tang’s version is thicker.”

Upon hearing the word “yogurt,” someone’s eyes lit up immediately. He loved it, and so did his wife. Yogurt was only a bit cheaper in the summer, but even then, it wasn’t easy to come by—it was considered lucky to find it two or three times a month.

In winter, it was even more expensive.

“We’re sold out, sir. Please come back tomorrow,” Tang Xianling said helplessly.

This batch of yogurt had fermented for about twenty-six hours, making it quite rich and tangy—just like the thick yogurt he’d eaten in modern times. The batch made the day before had fermented by now, but the flavor was weak and the consistency thin.

The customer was surprised: “Will there be any tomorrow?”

“Of course.” It was Tang Xianling’s turn to be taken aback. “The batch I made yesterday didn’t ferment properly, but by the time we open for the evening meal tomorrow, it’ll be ready to sell.”

If he sold out every day, why bother with a cellar? But once the cellar is dug, they can store other things in it too.

Huangfu Tieniu packed the yogurt that Mr. Huang wanted to take home, handed it over, and said, “Please, Mr. Huang, when you return the food boxes tomorrow, bring the yogurt jars back with them.”

“Alright.” Mr. Huang nodded, picked up the food box, and walked out of the shop. As he lifted the lid, he realized that Mr. Tang’s yogurt wasn’t served in bowls, but in pristine porcelain jars wrapped in oil paper and tied tightly with twine. They looked spotless—hardly what one would expect for just five wen.

When Tang Xianling ordered the small wine jars, he’d also requested a few small jars on the side. He’d originally intended to use them for yogurt—but in the end, he decided small bowls were more convenient for eating and easier to wash.

Now that he was packing it up for Mr. Huang, these small jars would come in handy.

Mr. Huang stood there holding the food box for a few seconds before moving. If he weren’t in the silk business, he would surely have gone to the Tang family shop to discuss with Mr. Tang how to expand the yogurt trade.

These simple, unadorned jars—with a label reading “Brother Tang” stuck to the rim—were the perfect opportunity to strike while the iron was hot. With Brother Tang’s recent legal troubles still making the rounds, he could tie a hemp rope tightly around the jar’s mouth and take them to the Grand Restaurant in the Goods Market. Even if he couldn’t get thirty wen for them, twenty wen would surely be enough.

Unfortunately…

Sitting in his carriage, Mr. Huang reflected on the few days he’d spent dining at the Tang family’s eatery. He’d heard from regulars in the Baxing District that Mr. Tang was an open and generous man, but he couldn’t quite handle the grind.

Of course, those weren’t his exact words.

Rather, they said Mr. Tang found the pork floss bread business too exhausting and hectic, so he’d stopped making it. Yet that pork floss bread was Brother Tang’s signature breakfast item—and now he’d simply decided to stop making them.

Mr. Huang had grown from a single silk shop to four stores, and his ambition hadn’t stopped there; he still wanted to expand further, aiming to become the largest silk merchant in Fengyuan City.

But Mr. Tang had no such ambition.

Well, he’s not going to let himself get caught up in that sort of trouble. Mr. Huang smiled, leaning back to sit more comfortably. He’d eaten more than usual today without realizing it, but he didn’t feel uncomfortable—just at ease.

After the evening meal, with some food left over, Tang Xianling called it a day.

The dishwasher, A-Liang, had arrived half an hour early and was now washing the dishes and cutlery in the backyard.

Once the diners in the shop had finished eating, Jiang Yun and Tieniu cleared the tables and carried the dishes to the back, wiping down the tables and sweeping up any food scraps that customers had accidentally dropped on the floor along the way. They kept the shop spotless so that new customers could sit down and eat right away.

Before six o’clock in the evening, the evening meal was sold out, and service ended.

There weren’t many dishes left.

A-Liang washed them thoroughly and said little. Jiang Yun, being a kind-hearted person, told A-Liang to take a break and not to rush. A-Liang said, “It’s fine, Sister Jiang. I have to go home after I finish washing.”

Jiang Yun said no more; she figured there must be chores waiting for him at home.

Tang Xianling divided the remaining food into two bowls for A-Liang and asked if he wanted to eat it there or take it home. Upon hearing this, A-Liang’s eyes lit up a bit, and he said, “I’ll take it home. Thank you, Boss Tang.”

“I’ve put the food in your basket. You can leave as soon as you’re done washing and tidying up.” Tang Xianling placed the food basket on the cutting board, leaving the now-empty large plates for A-Liang to wash.

Only these four large plates are left.

Huangfu Tieniu led his mule. “Mom, Xianling, I’m heading out first.”

“Alright, go early and come back early,” Tang Xianling said. “We’ll wait for you to come back for dinner.”

Huangfu Tieniu smiled.

Since there wasn’t enough yogurt at home to sell, Huangfu Tieniu had to go to the East Market to speak with the dairy shop—they’d deliver a barrel of milk every day—and then head to the woodworking shop in the West Market to place an order for fifty small spoons.

These errands could be run quickly on the mule, so there was no need to hitch up the cart.

Huangfu Tieniu took the receipt and some qian and headed out. Tang Xianling saw him off to the front gate. “Oh, and if you see any apples at the West Market, buy some. I think they’re in season now.”

“If there aren’t any apples, just pick out some other fruit.”

Huangfu Tieniu couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he nodded in agreement. Tang Xianling: “Huh? I told you to buy some fruit—what are you laughing at?” Why is he getting more and more silly?

“I’m happy. You remind me of my mother.”

Tang Xianling: ?! Are you asking for a beating?

In the alley, Huangfu Tieniu reached out and tugged at his fulang’s hand. “When I was little, before Mother passed away, I can’t remember much else, but I remember how she’d always remind me like this: ‘Eat your meal, be careful, take your time, and don’t run.’”

“I feel like when you were talking to me just now—”

Tang Xianling’s eyebrows twitched. If he said that “you remind me of my mother” thing again, he’d have to punch him—never mind, he wouldn’t punch him this time.

“I just feel like… I have a home now,” Huangfu Tieniu said earnestly.

He knew, of course, that he loved Xianling; their bond as husband and husband was nothing else.

“How long has it been since we got married?” Tang Xianling’s furrowed brows relaxed. “How old were you back then?”

“Three, I guess,” Huangfu Tieniu said.

Tang Xianling’s brows furrowed again. Huangfu Tieniu reached out to smooth them, smiling as he said, “I’m off now. I’ll come back with some fruit—we’ll eat it together, the two of us with Mother.”

“Hmm, don’t pick anything too sour. If you don’t know how to choose fruit, just watch how the other couples buy theirs and learn from them.”

“Alright, I’ll remember that.”

It was just a quick trip out. The two chatted for a little while at the door, and finally Tang Xianling waved goodbye first and turned to go back. Once he entered the courtyard, he felt a bit embarrassed, thinking to himself: He’s already grown up, he’s married, he’s done everything a man should and shouldn’t do—yet just now it felt just like being in love, so reluctant to part, so clingy and affectionate.

But his heart was filled with the bittersweet sweetness of love.

Shanuo lost his mother when he was three.

Three years old—his memories are hazy. He probably only has a few scattered fragments of his mother, right?

Life isn’t about grand events; it’s made up of small things. Every word and gesture of unconscious care and consideration can make a person feel happy.

Huangfu Tieniu mounted his mule and rode out of the alley, heading straight for the East Market, a lingering smile still in his eyes.

Mother, I have a home now. I’m so happy.

I don’t care about career prospects, official positions, or achieving great deeds.

In the past, when he went hunting in the mountains with his foster father, the farther they got from the Huangfu household, the calmer his heart became. Yet he knew he was merely suppressing his true feelings. A son cannot confide in his father; to do so would be a grave act of disobedience. But now, things are different.

He, Huangfu Tieniu, had a home now. He had a lover.

In the courtyard.

After washing up and tidying himself, A-Liang collected his money and headed home with his vegetable basket. Tang Xianling was preparing dinner in the kitchen. Today’s main dish was fragrant spare ribs—he’d set them aside earlier—and he’d just tossed together a cold salad. Mother had gone next door to buy steamed buns.

She hadn’t returned after quite a while.

Tang Xianling cooked a pot of mung bean porridge to eat with the white rice porridge.

Soon after, the back gate creaked open. Tang Xianling thought his mother had returned and wondered why he hadn’t locked the door. When he stepped out of the kitchen, he heard Old Man Cui’s voice outside: “Is Mr. Tang home?”

“Yes,” Tang Xianling replied. “Come right in.”

Besides Cui Dabao, Sun Douzi had also come. Had the couple just finished their evening meal and come over to aid digestion? Tang Xianling didn’t believe it. When he asked the reason for their visit, Mr. Sun looked quite embarrassed, and Old Man Cui said, “Mr. Tang, I used to buy three wen worth of milk every day. I’d like to add two more wen—could I exchange it for yogurt instead?”

“Sure thing.” Tang Xianling didn’t beat around the bush with the two of them; after all, they were all from the same neighborhood. In fact, the couple’s personalities were quite similar to his own—they spoke their minds. Sun Fulang was a shy man who didn’t say much, but he wasn’t the type to overthink things or jump to the wrong conclusions; he was actually quite straightforward.

He offered some advice: “Milk is good for your health, and yogurt helps stimulate the appetite and aid digestion in the summer. But if you drink yogurt or milk every single day, it might get a bit monotonous. Why not switch it up every few days? Whenever you’re in the mood for one or the other, just come by the shop and pick it up.”

“We have plenty of milk right now—we get it every day, so you don’t need to tell me a day in advance.”

So, this couple was a good bunch.

Sun Douzi breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. “I didn’t want to trouble your business—it wouldn’t do if you ran out.”

“So, do you have any today?” Cui Dabao asked anxiously.

Tang Xianling replied, “The yogurt I made yesterday hasn’t finished fermenting yet. If I open it now, the texture will be a bit runny. I prefer a thicker consistency, so let’s wait until tomorrow. I’ll set some aside for you.”

Cui Dabao was both surprised and delighted. “You’re saving some for me?” He immediately clasped his hands in a bow, beaming with joy as he replied, “Thank you, thank you, Boss Tang.”

Boss Tang’s shop didn’t usually set aside food or dishes for customers in advance, but the fact that Boss Tang had said this showed he valued Cui Dabao as a customer and was giving him face. Cui Dabao was overjoyed and couldn’t help but think: He wasn’t just any customer—he was a regular!

“He really knows a good customer when he sees one.”

Tang Xianling chuckled and said, “Today’s yogurt is red date flavored. My husband Tieniu bought some apples, so tomorrow I’ll make some apple sauce to add another flavor.”

“Then we’ll have the apple flavor,” said Cui Dabao. Lately, Douzi had taken a liking to sour foods. The few apples he’d bought for the family had turned so sour, yet Douzi didn’t bat an eye—he’d slice off a piece and nibble on it slowly, finishing an entire apple without complaining about the sourness.

How strange.

Just as they were talking, Jiang Yun returned, her eyes and brows brimming with joy. She’d clearly been deep in conversation with Chen Qiaolian next door at the Lu household. Now, seeing Old Man Cui and his husband there, she greeted them warmly.

“Just now, Qiaolian told me that her eldest son’s wedding date has been set—it’s at the end of the month.” That’s why she was delayed a bit; Jiang Yun also enjoyed chatting about such topics. “I hear she’s the daughter of the pot-repairer—they make a fine match, and the young lady is quite skilled with her hands.”

Pot and bowl repairers were artisans, not registered merchants, but they could earn enough money to make ends meet. Making a fortune was out of the question; their trade catered to the common folk.

When pots and bowls cracked or broke, people were reluctant to part with their cherished items, and buying new ones was too expensive, so they’d call a pot and bowl repairer to “patch them up,” and the items would be usable again.

How much does a bowl cost? How much can a craftsman charge for his labor?

It’s all a nest egg built up little by little over time.

Tang Xianling: “Then there’ll be a celebration at the end of the month.”

After chatting for a short while, Cui Dabao and Sun Douzi returned. Once Jiang Yun and the others had left and the door was shut, she finally dared to speak: “I didn’t dare say anything while Old Man Cui and his wife were here.”

“Huh?” Tang Xianling raised an eyebrow. They’d just been talking about the next-door family’s celebration—could it be that Old Man Cui had had a falling out with them?

Jiang Yun: “Qiaolian said that the pot-repairing family’s daughter has no shortage of brothers—between older and younger brothers, there are a full seven of them. She’s the sixth child in the family, with nothing but boys ahead of her.”

Tang Xianling sat on the railing of the courtyard veranda, listening to his mother chat.

“Qiaolian took a liking to this girl back then precisely because she had so many older brothers. She said that since there are so many children in the family, she must be fertile.”

Tang Xianling: ??? Oh, oh, oh—he finally got it. His mother was talking about genetics.

If parents have a lot of kids, does that mean their children have good genes for having kids?

“Since they got such a young lady, I hear her family dotes on her quite a bit.”

Tang Xianling chimed in, “Mother, you haven’t explained how the story of the Lu family’s new bride got tied to Old Man Cui.”

“What connection?” Jiang Yun was momentarily confused, then realized, “Look at me—I was just telling you this, but I got sidetracked and forgot. Old Man Cui and his husband have been married for nearly four years and still haven’t had a child, which is why I didn’t mention it earlier.”

Tang Xianling had thought it was something serious, but realizing it was just that, he said, “I can see how much Old Man Cui dotes on his husband. I don’t think the couple really cares about whether or not they have a child.”

“Still, it’s better to have a child.” Jiang Yun said instinctively, then paused to think it through carefully. “You’re right. As long as the young couple gets along well, we can’t let the pressure to have a baby ruin their relationship.”

It was getting dark when Tieniu returned, carrying a sack of apples on his back. He dismounted the mule, took off the sack, and pulled out the apples to show his husband.

“I did as you said. I watched an older woman as she picked out her apples. After a while, she asked, ‘Young man, why are you staring at me?’ When I explained, she smiled and offered to help me choose.”

At the vendor’s stall in the West Market, the customers were all women and their husbands—except for Huangfu Tieniu, a young, handsome lad crouched nearby, quietly watching others select their fruit, which made him quite the center of attention.

Once the woman asked and heard the answer, she was overjoyed.

“This young man truly dotes on his wife.”

“He came to buy fruit himself?”

“He really cares for her.”

The auntie helped pick out a few. When she heard the young man say his husband didn’t like things too sour, she asked how he could tell if they were sweet. Holding up an apple, the auntie even demonstrated for him.

“He doesn’t like sour things?”

“Then the young man needs to try a little harder.”

It was just a simple trip to buy fruit, but it had the women and their husbands all laughing.

Huangfu Tieniu caught the teasing and understood the implication, but he pretended not to. He simply thanked the auntie and took the apples. By the time they returned home, his mother was in the kitchen, and the courtyard was empty. He took his husband’s hand and said with a smile, “The auntie told me to try harder.”

“Try harder at picking apples?” Tang Xianling took the apples—each about the size of a small fist, mostly red, with a few slightly yellow ones speckled with sesame-like dots.

Huangfu Tieniu: “They were teasing me, telling us to have a child soon.”

“…… ” Tang Xianling looked up at Tieniu and snorted, “Then you go try harder—what’s the point of telling me!”

The two bantered and teased each other as they entered the kitchen. Tang Xianling washed the two apples, sliced them, and gave half to his mother. He and Tieniu split the rest, and after taking a bite, he was immediately surprised. “This yellow one with the sesame-like spots is so sweet.”

“But the texture is a bit mealy.”

Huangfu Tieniu held the one in his hand up to Tang Xianling’s lips. “This red-and-green one is crisp and juicy.”

Tang Xianling took a bite; it crackled with a satisfying crunch—it was indeed crisp and sweet.

“So Auntie wasn’t just teasing you; she taught you how to pick good fruit.”

Tang Xianling said with a muffled laugh as he ate the apple.

Huangfu Tieniu hummed in agreement, a smile on his face as well.

Seeing how close the two children were, Jiang Yun thought of what Wu-ger had said: “Don’t worry about having children or not.” She had given birth to five children, and most of her life had been a chaotic mess; whenever she spoke of it, it was filled with sorrow.

It was another day of eating by the light of the moon in the dark.

In Linma Village, over twenty li away.

The Lin family had divided their estate today, causing quite a commotion, but at least it was finally settled.

After selling their grain the day before, the three brothers hadn’t returned all night. Everyone in the Lin household was worried. Lin Dalang’s eldest son, Lin Mao, even said he wanted to go into the city to look for them, but his grandfather stopped him.

“Our village is practically right on the edge of Fengyuan City—where would such bold bandits come from? It’s already dark now; if you go there, the city gates will be closed, and you won’t be able to get in. Wait a little longer, and none of you is to wander off.” Father Lin said this to his eldest grandson, though he was worried himself.

That day, the whole family, young and old, shut the doors early and went to sleep.

Fortunately, the next morning, the three brothers returned, pushing an empty cart and driving an ox cart. The family finally breathed a sigh of relief, and then came the questions: What happened? What went on? Why didn’t you come back yesterday? Where did you stay?

Lin Dalang hesitated for a moment, unsure how to explain.

“The grain’s gone—we sold it. What’s the problem?”

Under his father’s persistent questioning, Lin Dalang finally spoke up, explaining how the grain shops in town had driven down the prices: “…I thought about it at the time. They were cutting the prices too ruthlessly. If it really didn’t work out, I’d just push the cart back home—the same way we came. But then I thought, that would be a wasted trip…”

His words were tangled and repetitive, never getting to the heart of the matter.

Father Lin could tell: all three sons wanted to sell the grain, but because the price was low, the eldest didn’t want to take sole responsibility for the decision—fearing his father’s blame; the second son was a good-for-nothing who pretended not to know and stubbornly kept quiet; and the third son—

“Father, Mother, it was I who suggested we not sell it. My older brothers agreed. We dawdled until it was too late—once the grain was sold, we wouldn’t have been able to leave anyway. We happened to run into Wu-ger and my brother-in-law from my mother-in-law’s family in town, and they invited the three of us to spend the night at my mother-in-law’s house.” Lin Hu finally got to the point.

Father Lin looked at his other two sons.

Lin Dalang nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly what I meant. We didn’t refuse because we were afraid of the weight—it’s just that the grain dealers in town were all sticking to the same price. I was worried that if we didn’t sell now, we’d end up getting a lower price later.”

“Father, it’s true. The grain shop owner said that with three good harvests in a row, there’s too much grain piling up, and we can’t sell it all. Right now, we can’t even get a reasonable price for it.” Lin Erlang chimed in to back him up.

Father Lin: “Did the three of you decide to sell the grain together?”

Lin Hu nodded, Lin Dalang hummed in agreement, and Lin Erlang was the last to say, “Right.”

Seeing this, Father Lin felt somewhat relieved. At least the eldest and second sons weren’t shirking responsibility here, shifting all the blame onto the third son; they still showed some sense of responsibility.

“Give me the money. As for the grain, once it’s sold, let’s not mention it again.”

Lin Dalang handed the money pouch he was holding to his father. In front of everyone, Father Lin counted out twenty wen and gave them to the third son. “Take this. Next time you go into town, buy your mother-in-law some fruit or something.”

Lin Hu accepted it. When they had returned that morning, his mother-in-law had given each of them two meat buns to take along for the journey.

Seeing this, Lin Dalang and Lin Erlang said nothing more; it was only fair.

“Father, when will we divide the family property?” Lin Erlang asked, then gave an awkward smile and quickly explained, “I’m just asking—I’m not rushing you.”

Lin Dalang was curious too; he just wanted to know what share he’d get and how it would be divided.

Over the years, though building the courtyard had cost money, his parents had surely saved quite a bit.

“Afternoon, I’ll invite the village chief—our Lin family’s uncle—and we’ll divide the property first thing tomorrow morning,” Father Lin said.

That evening, Lin Hu told Qiaoniang that her mother-in-law’s place was now in great shape: the tenants had moved out, the courtyard felt much more spacious, and they’d given it a thorough cleaning. He said his mother missed her and the children, and once their family split up, they’d go into town to visit her…

Tang Qiao was very happy.

As long as Mother and Wu-ger are doing well now, that’s all that matters.

When the day of the division came, the village chief and Uncle Lin arrived early in the morning. Neither the village chief nor Uncle Lin tried to dissuade them with remarks like, “Why split up when everything is going so well?”

The Lin family was a wealthy and well-established household in the village. Because they had many children, they were allotted a large amount of farmland, and through decades of hard work tilling the fields, they had built up a substantial estate. But now that the children were all grown, it was no longer appropriate for them to all live under one roof.

Next came the division of the farmland, the courtyard, the household furniture, and the money, as well as the question of which household the elderly couple would live with. Traditionally, in the village, parents lived with their eldest son.

Deep down, Lin Dalang and Lin Erliang had always felt their parents favored their third younger brother, so they were certain the elderly couple would choose to live with him.

To their surprise, their parents chose to live with him. Lin Dalang was completely taken aback.

When it came time to divide the estate, the Lin family’s assets were indeed substantial. In fact, the amount of silver they had accumulated astonished even the village chief—a full 270 taels.

Dividing the fields, courtyards, and houses was straightforward, but when it came to dividing the silver, logically, 270 taels should have been split into three equal shares, giving each brother’s household 90 taels. However, the elderly couple insisted they needed to keep some silver for themselves, so they decided to divide the remaining 210 taels, giving each of the three brothers’ households 70 taels.

Lin Dalang and Lin Hu both agreed, but Lin Erlang felt a bit uneasy.

Since his parents were living with his eldest brother, the fact that they were keeping sixty taels of silver for themselves—what was the difference between that and simply giving sixty taels to his eldest brother? When he thought about it that way, wouldn’t his eldest brother’s household end up with seventy taels plus sixty taels, suddenly gaining so much more? Lin Erlang grew anxious.

But he dared not confront his eldest brother, nor did he dare to openly accuse their parents of favoring him. Instead, he shifted the conversation to his third brother.

“That’s not fair. Our third brother already has twelve taels, and now he’s getting seventy. We’ve been saying we’d split it evenly among the three of us—how come my family ends up with the least…”

Lin Hu: ?

No matter how he twisted and turned the argument, Lin Erlang had made up his mind to go all out. He wasn’t going to hold back this time—any extra he could get was a bonus. By attacking his third brother over the silver, he even went so far as to claim he was the dutiful one. His parents had favored his third brother all these years; now that they were living with his eldest brother’s family, he hadn’t even had a chance to show his filial piety. Otherwise, wouldn’t his parents have chosen to live with him?

He wanted to properly care for his parents and begged them to give him a chance.

Father Lin was furious—this second son was clearly scheming to get his hands on money

It wasn’t as if he truly wanted to show filial piety to him and his wife.

……After Lin Erlang made a scene, there was no way they could bring out the silver given by the third son’s wife’s family—the elderly couple couldn’t bear the shame of that. After all, who would rely on their daughter-in-law’s family for money when they had no savings of their own? But they knew the second son was just using this as an excuse to ask for money, and they felt it was unfair. They dragged their feet until noon, and even the village chief and their uncle, was getting hungry.

The elderly couple consulted with each other, obtained the consent of the eldest and third sons, and finally gave the second son a subsidy of five taels, taken from their own pockets.

Lin Dalang naturally had no objections; his parents lived with him, so even if they gave his second brother five taels, they’d still have fifty-five taels left.

Lin Hu did the math and nodded in agreement.

Lin Erlang was delighted and was about to speak up when Father Lin, his face stern, said, “If you’re still not satisfied, forget about dividing the property—just live together. When I eventually kick the bucket, if the three of you end up as enemies, I won’t know—it’s up to you.”

Not splitting up? How could they not split up? Lin Erlang hurriedly spouted a string of filial words, implying he had no ulterior motives. He knew his parents cared deeply for him; he’d always thought they favored his third younger brother, but he’d been mistaken. Today, he was deeply moved…

With snot and tears streaming down his face, he was practically on the verge of kneeling down to kowtow to his parents.