Through the Lu family’s introduction to a farming household, Huangfu Tieniu finished his morning business and drove his cart out of town to haul grain. At a rate of four hundred wen per day, he was to haul five shi of grain first.

“Don’t rush back. The sun is scorching this early in the morning, and Mother and I can handle the afternoon meal on our own.”

Tang Xianling saw Tieniu off and handed him a straw hat. “Don’t be lazy and refuse to wear it. We’re not in the mountains under the shade of trees; there’s no shelter along the way, and you’ll get sunburned.”

Huangfu Tieniu agreed to everything.

“A-Liang will be coming a bit earlier today to lend a hand. I’ll just pay him a little extra cash,” Tang Xianling said hurriedly, afraid Tieniu would rush back. “Oh, and take the water bottle with you.”

“Make sure to stay hydrated in the sun.”

With nothing else to discuss, Tang Xianling had work to attend to and didn’t linger with Tieniu. Huangfu Tieniu drove his cart, with Lu Dalang driving his alongside, and they left the city together.

The evening meal was much the same as yesterday’s. Tang Xianling was now a seasoned worker and didn’t find it tiring. At a little past four in the afternoon, he served up a boxed meal on time, along with a jar of yogurt. Today, he had A-Liang collect the used bowls and chopsticks from in front of the shop.

He served the food while his mother handed it out and collected the money. They were sure to be kept busy.

“Mr. Tang, do you have any yogurt today?” This customer loved yogurt; he’d arrived late yesterday only to find it sold out, so he’d come early today specifically to wait.

Tang Xianling checked and saw it had fermented just right, so he said, “Yes. We have two flavors of yogurt today: apple jam and red date jam. If you prefer plain, you can have it without any toppings.”

“Can I have half plain and add some jam later?” 

“Sure,” Tang Xianling replied with a smile.

In the food business, everyone has their own tastes, but food lovers and those with a sweet tooth always want to try as much as possible.

When the other customers heard this, they were surprised to learn they could eat it this way. They all wanted to do the same: for five wen, they could buy one bowl and try three different flavors—they had to try them all to see which one tasted best.

Tang Xianling later brought out two bowls of jam and placed them on the table, offering a communal spoon for everyone to help themselves.

“Do we serve ourselves?”

“Can we add as much sweet sauce as we like?”

Tang Xianling, holding the serving spoon, took a moment to reply amidst the bustle: “I’ve already scooped out the yogurt. As for the sweet and savory sauces, please help yourselves according to your taste. Please use the communal spoon—don’t mix them up. Whether you prefer sweet, mild, or sour, help yourselves.”

The regulars were delighted, finding it comfortable and relaxed. The newcomers thought it was quite interesting. Naturally, there were also some diners who didn’t like the way he mixed it, so they asked Mr. Tang if he could prepare a portion for them.

“No problem!”

Mr. Tang is a laid-back and cheerful guy.

In the end, some people added too much jam, making it a bit too sweet, but the customer who let Mr. Tang mix it for him wore a look of pure contentment and delight on his face—it turned out that the flavor Master Tang had prepared was just right for him.

“Mr. Tang, make me a yogurt too.” 

“I want Mr. Tang to make mine too.”

Well, in the end, Tang Xianling ended up mixing the yogurt flavors for most of the customers, though a few preferred to do it themselves. Some even asked to take the leftovers home after finishing.

“Oh no, I didn’t bring a bowl. Can I borrow one from you, Mr. Tang? I’ll return it another day.”

Tang Xianling: “Sure. Mom, I’ll need a jar.”

Jiang Yun hurried to fetch a jar, wax paper, and twine. Tang Xianling deftly filled the jar with yogurt, wrapped it up, and handed it over.

The customer paid five wen, held the jar of yogurt in his hand, and gave it a satisfied look.

“Sir, it’s hot out today. Please eat the yogurt today—don’t let it sit around too long,” Tang Xianling advised.

The customer replied, “Got it.”

Old Man Cui came back to buy a boxed meal, and Tang Xianling handed him the yogurt. Old Man Cui happily took the container, examining it with curiosity, and said, “I’ll come back later to return the container.”

“No rush—whenever you’re ready is fine,” Tang Xianling replied.

After finishing his work that day, Tang Xianling didn’t feel like cooking, so he and his mother ate at the shop. They were halfway through their meal when Tieniu returned. After a flurry of activity, they put the grain sacks in the storage room and stacked them up.

“I’ve noticed more people from the city are coming to the village to buy grain,” Huangfu Tieniu said.

Tang Xianling: “Then the grain shops in town will have to lower their prices.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Huh?” Tang Xianling thought for a moment, then realized what Tieniu was getting at. “They don’t want to spit out the meat you’ve already swallowed, do you?”

Huangfu Tieniu nodded in agreement.

Tang Xianling said, “What do these grain merchants stand to gain? If they just paid the usual purchase price, everything would be settled. But by pulling this stunt this year, they’re making enemies on both sides—”

“But they can make a little extra. Even if it’s just for a few more days, it’s still money.”

“Never mind. We’re just small shopkeepers; it’s none of our business.” Tang Xianling dropped the subject.

Huangfu Tieniu changed the subject, asking how business had been at the shop that day and if he’d managed to keep up with the workload.

Tang Xianling: “It’s all been fine. Business is pretty much the same as usual.”

Business at home was just as he and Tieniu had predicted. As time went on, breakfast sales became more stable, mostly coming from residents of the Baxing District and Dingyi District; their stock levels were just right. For dinner, people from the outer quarters came in droves, and it seemed the foot traffic was growing day by day.

New faces came in every day. The shop was busiest right after opening, when sales were brisk; sometimes, items would sell out before the rush even began.

“I figure after a while, people might get a bit tired of it, and the foot traffic will probably level off. The current hype isn’t really a reliable indicator,” Tang Xianling said.

Even if he rotates the menu every three days—five days a week—eventually, the slightly more affluent customers will surely get tired of it. However, Mr. Huang came almost every day last week, skipped two days, and has been coming consecutively this week as well.

Tang Xianling actually wanted to “gauge the situation” to see what his shop’s long-term, stable customer flow would be like, so he could adjust the restaurant’s positioning later, to determine whether he could actually make it work.

It’s still a bit early to say that, though, because the evening business is really booming—there’s no shortage of customers. In fact, latecomers often leave empty-handed after traveling all that way.

Tang Xianling had considered increasing the portion sizes, but after some thought, he decided against it.

Increasing the volume would be exhausting, not to mention that the shop’s space is limited. If there are too many people, he won’t be able to keep up, which would affect the dining experience for current customers. It’s better to maintain the current setup. In ten days or so, the foot traffic should drop a bit… right?

On “Wednesday,” Tang Xianling changed the menu and made steamed pork with rice flour. He’d arranged it with the Lu family the day before, and they ordered some “lotus leaf-shaped buns”—palm-sized, folded open, and made from leavened dough, soft and fluffy.

The spare ribs have been replaced with braised spare ribs, seasoned with five-spice marinade and stewed until tender and falling off the bone.

Vegetables: stir-fried loofah with eggs and stir-fried Chinese cabbage.

Steamed pork with rice flour stuffed in flatbreads. Tang Xianling had prepared them in advance, arranging the flatbreads neatly on a tray. Since access to water is inconvenient now, he couldn’t very well have the guests tear open the flatbreads themselves to stuff them with meat—that would be unhygienic.

So after Tang Xianling finished preparing the steamed pork, he stuffed all the buns himself in one go. These lotus leaf buns were slightly smaller, after all, since the boxed meals were portioned for one person and included other side dishes. 

Tang Xianling announced, “Today we have steamed pork buns. Since this serves as a staple, if a customer can’t finish the rice, they can buy half a portion for one wen.”

It’s all flexible.

The customers were intrigued. “Is there pork inside this bun, too?”

“Yes.” Seeing the customers’ curiosity, Tang Xianling tore one open to show them, explaining, “The meat inside is tender and sticky, rich yet not greasy.” 

“Mr. Tang’s pork is second to none—I’ll have one to try.”

Some customers were already eager to try it.

Tang Xianling set the one he’d just broken open aside—he’d save it for Tieniu later—and used bamboo tongs to serve the customer a fresh one. The customer who had been first in line looked on, a look of “great relief” spreading across his face. Clearly, the customer hadn’t wanted the bun Tang had handled and displayed earlier, but had been too shy to say so.

A furry customer.

Running a shop is really interesting.

The customer who received his boxed meal sat down, first pulling out a handkerchief to wipe his hands. He picked up the cake and took a bite; his eyes immediately lit up. He took two more bites—the cake was very soft, with the pork mixed in. Some parts were sticky and glutinous, with a distinct rice flavor, and there was a savory, sweet aroma. He savored it carefully; the sweetness came from the sweet potato, not sugar, and it tasted very natural.

He bit into a piece of fatty pork.

Just as Mr. Tang had said, it was rich but not greasy. The fat in this bite was different from that in braised pork; here, the meat was a bit “drier,” as if the rice flour had absorbed the fat, whereas the fat in braised pork is soft and sticky with a greasy sheen.

“Mr. Tang, can I buy just the bun? I don’t feel like eating rice.”

“I’d like to have more of these buns, too.”

“You mean the steamed pork bun?”

Tang Xianling: “I’m sorry, everyone. Today’s steamed pork with rice flour is only available as a set—we don’t have any extras. But if you like it and think it’s delicious, I’ll make sure to prepare more tomorrow.”

“This is delicious. Boss Tang, please make sure to have more tomorrow.” 

“I’d say you should double the amount.”

 “I’ll come back tomorrow—this is all I want to eat.”

That’s because you haven’t tried the other dishes yet.

When that customer got to the braised spare ribs, they looked rather plain—not as visually appealing as the sweet-and-sour ribs or the aromatic ribs, both of which had beautiful colors —one with a rich, glossy dark red sauce, the other fried to a crispy red. The braised spare ribs had a dark, almost blackish hue, and the sauce wasn’t as thick or sticky; it had a somewhat “light and clear” texture. But when you tasted them—

It wasn’t as overpowering as those other two, but upon closer tasting, it had an indescribable savory aroma. It goes perfectly with rice.

Boss Tang’s braised pork is truly a masterpiece; there isn’t a single place in all of Fengyuan City that can prepare pork with such masterful skill.

“The steamed pork bun is delicious, and these five-spice spare ribs really live up to their name—they’re so fragrant, with a lingering aroma that goes perfectly with rice.” 

“Exactly, exactly.”

Mr. Huang came by again today—how could he not come when Mr. Tang has introduced new dishes? He took a bite, had a taste, and was amazed all over again. Nothing—not even venison or bear paw—compares to the aroma of Mr. Tang’s pork.

He loves this steamed pork bun.

“Mr. Tang, you must make plenty of this tomorrow. Could you serve the meat and buns separately? I’d like to take some meat home.” His mother is getting on in years; she’ll surely love this—it’s tender and soft, easy on the teeth, and not too greasy.

“Elderly people shouldn’t eat too much greasy food in the summer—it’s hard on the stomach.”

The customers’ requests were all over the place, so Tang Xianling took them all into account and replied, “Alright, I’ll prepare extra steamed pork tomorrow. Anyone who wants to buy it separately for takeout can do so—eight wen per serving.”

“Does that eight wen include a bun?” asked a customer, secretly thinking eight wen was a bit pricey. Tang Xianling replied, “Yes, it includes one lotus leaf bun.”

“That’s acceptable.”

Mr. Huang had no objections to the price and immediately ordered a portion to go—he wanted to grab it while it was still available.

“I’ll also take two servings of yogurt, both to go.”

Tang Xianling packed the meals into boxes.

For five days straight, business at the takeout shop was booming. Mr. Huang only missed one day, and Tang Xianling thought, “Finally, things are settling down.” But aside from Mr. Huang’s absence, the other customers remained as numerous as ever.

They’re still a long way from a steady period.

After five busy days, that evening, Tang Xianling tallied the week’s earnings. As expected, the main source of income was now the evening meals. This week, they’d dropped the pork floss bread, so revenue should have been lower. But because they’d added yogurt, and on Thursday they’d prepared extra steamed pork with rice flour—doubling the quantity—it sold out every time, so the total revenue actually came out a bit higher than last week.

Also, there was some wastage.

His yogurt business was truly booming, with a daily supply of thirty-six or thirty-seven bowls—he enjoyed it himself, as yogurt is incredibly appetizing in the summer. Customers who had previously taken it to go hadn’t returned the jars to him. 

Tang Xianling had originally bought twenty jars, but by now only thirteen remained.

Who on earth hasn’t returned their jar!

Tang Xianling racked his brain for a moment. “No, no, I’m face-blind—I can’t quite remember. But I do recall that on the day you went to get the grain, three customers borrowed my jars. As for whether they returned them… I remember someone returning one the next day, and another the day after that, but there were so many takeout orders, I got them mixed up…”

Damn it, someone borrowed his jars and didn’t return them.

“I’ll have to order more containers this week. I can’t keep packing like this. Maybe I should start charging a deposit?”

These jars of his are actually pretty expensive to make—he insists on using plain, unadorned porcelain, and each one costs twenty-six wen to fire. Aaaaaaah.

Tang Xianling looked pained and raised his head to ask the heavens, “Who on earth hasn’t returned my jars?”

At first, Huangfu Tieniu felt a pang of sympathy, but seeing Xianling muttering to himself like this, with that tearful, heaven-pleading expression, he suddenly found his husband’s demeanor utterly adorable—a bit childish, even. His heart melted completely. He reached out to hug Xianling and leaned down to kiss his husband’s forehead.

Tang Xianling pulled his gaze away and looked up at Tieniu. Wait, is that a “you’re messing with me” look? Which one of us is the boss here?

“You are. Tang Xianling is Huangfu Tieniu’s boss.” Huangfu Tieniu got the hint.

Tang Xianling snorted. “Good to know.”

Huangfu Tieniu added, “You looked so cute just now, like a little kid.”

“……” Tang Xianling gave a soft click of his tongue. “Tieniu, Tieniu, don’t get too infatuated with the boss.”

Huangfu Tieniu’s ears turned a little red as he said, “The boss already said it’s too late—he’s completely smitten.” 

Tang Xianling: … Hehe. I can’t keep a straight face.

The two exchanged a few sweet nothings, sweeping away all the frustration from the loss of the jars back home. They decided to treat those seven jars as “lost”—since they were already gone and couldn’t be recovered or reclaimed, so they could only think of a way to make amends.

“But putting down a twenty-six-wen deposit on the pots isn’t good either.” That’s a bit much.

Tang Xianling stroked his chin, deep in thought. Finally, Huangfu Tieniu said, “Let’s take a bath first. The hot water’s ready; I’ll go fetch it.” 

“Let Mother go first.” Tang Xianling sat at the table in the courtyard, eating an apple.

Jiang Yun called out, “Okay,” from the kitchen.

Wu-ger and Tieniu were chatting and then hugged each other, so she went into the kitchen to check on them.

With the holiday coming up, Tang Xianling would have it a bit easier on Friday night. He sat lazily on the railing, munching on an apple. Tieniu helped his mother carry the bucket of hot water to the bathroom. After she went to bathe, Tieniu came over to sit with him. The two sat shoulder to shoulder, with only the sound of Tang Xianling crunching on his apple breaking the silence.

Neither of them spoke; it was quiet, with the chirping of crickets in the courtyard.

Tang Xianling found the quiet, cool night quite pleasant. By the time he finished his apple, he still hadn’t come up with a “good idea,” so he decided to put it aside for now and sat next to Tieniu for a while.

For quite a while.

“It’s itchy.”

Huangfu Tieniu chuckled softly, took out a fan, and began fanning his husband, saying, “Tomorrow we’ll go to the West Market; I’ll get some insect-repellent powder.” The supply at home was almost gone.

“Wait until I roll it into incense sticks. I’ll light some in the courtyard tonight.”

Tang Xianling: “You know how to roll incense?”

“I do, but they don’t look very nice.” Huangfu Tieniu admitted honestly, “There are a lot of mosquitoes and insects in the mountains. My foster father taught me this method, but I can’t bring them when I go hunting in the mountains. The game has a very sensitive sense of smell, and if I carry these incense sticks, the game won’t show up.”

Tang Xianling: “So you’ll just get bitten?”

“Tie your sleeves and pant legs tight, and cover your neck and face. Actually, once you get used to it in the mountains, it’s fine.” As soon as Huangfu Tieniu finished speaking, he looked at Xianling, “You wouldn’t be able to handle it—”

Tang Xianling shot him a furious glare.

“You attract mosquitoes like a magnet. If you don’t carry some insect-repelling incense on you, you’ll end up covered in red welts.”

Huangfu Tieniu thought of Xianling’s skin—it was so tender and fair that it would easily show marks.

Tang Xianling withdrew his glare. “Guess I’ll just have to obediently carry a sachet after all.”

Everyone has their own area of expertise, so he decided not to venture into the hunting scene and instead stuck to being a cook.

“I’m done. You two go ahead and shower.” Jiang Yun emerged from the bathroom carrying a basket of dirty clothes. Back when Wu-ger had suggested building a bathroom, Jiang Yun had thought it was too much trouble, but now that it was the hot summer, taking a quick shower every day made sleeping much more comfortable.

It was mainly just convenient.

“Got it, Mom. You get some sleep early,” Tang Xianling replied.

The two of them took their bath a little late. After finishing, they played around in the room for a while. They woke up around four in the morning and played for another half hour or so. Huangfu Tieniu quietly got up, fetched some water, and gave Xianling a quick wash.

Tang Xianling’s back was sore, and his legs felt a bit stiff. A thin blanket was draped over him, and he was now “straining with all his might” to prop himself up on his arms. “Is Mother still asleep? She hasn’t woken up, has she?”

“No, the courtyard is dead quiet. It’s just me.” Huangfu Tieniu wrung out the washcloth and wiped the marks off his husband’s legs, then gently massaged them.

Tang Xianling withdrew his arms and lay back down, moaning,

“That’s enough, that’s enough…” He couldn’t stay in one position for too long; he had to change it up!

They didn’t buy much this weekend. The charcoal they’d saved up over the past two weeks was enough, so they didn’t need to buy any more. They had plenty of spices and such as well; they only needed to restock a few essentials—things like sugar, soy sauce, and vinegar. They also needed to pick up a wooden spoon and the newly ordered jars, so they’d put everything together to pick up tomorrow.

On Saturday, Huangfu Tieniu was at home grinding flour with a millstone.

Tang Xianling sat on the veranda railing, leaning against a wooden pillar as if he had no bones in his body. He was craving cold noodles. “Shall we have cold noodles for lunch?” 

“Sure.” Huangfu Tieniu nodded.

Jiang Yun: “Then I’ll go buy some vegetables.”

“If Mother finds a chicken, bring one.”

“Sure.”

By noon, they were enjoying the cold noodles with shredded chicken. After their afternoon nap, the courtyard gate creaked open. Tang Xianling was still dozing, half-asleep, but he faintly heard his mother’s delighted voice: “Oh my, on such a hot day, why are you here at this hour? You’ve been out in the sun—Erniang’s face is all red. Come on in.”

It sounded like his eldest sister had arrived?

When he finally woke up, sure enough, his eldest sister had arrived with the children.

“When did my eldest sister arrive?” Tang Xianling asked Tieniu, his eyes sparkling. Huangfu Tieniu replied, “While you were fast asleep.”

“I knew it! I thought I was dreaming, but it turns out it was real.”

In the courtyard, only Eldest Sister was there with Erniang and Sanlang. Upon asking, he learned that his brother-in-law had gone to the East Market to buy a cow, taking them along with him.

“Buy a cow?” But didn’t the Lin family already have a cow? Tang Xianling was taken aback.

Tang Qiao had just started telling her mother when she saw her younger brother ask, so she repeated the story. Tang Xianling sat down and listened as she explained that the Lin family had divided their property, and the old ox had gone to the eldest son.

“Father-in-law and Mother-in-law said they couldn’t bear to part with the ox—they’d raised it for so long—so it went to my eldest brother’s family. But they also gave each of our two households four taels of silver, so we can buy our own oxen or mules,” Tang Qiao said.

Tang Xianling had just woken up, and his mind was still a bit foggy; he merely listened to the story of the other family’s division. Jiang Yun, however, had listened from start to finish, and now she asked, “From what I heard, your father-in-law and mother-in-law gave a bit more to older brothers Huzi and Erge…”

What’s going on here? Didn’t they say earlier that the old couple doted on the third son? So why was the third so left out of the division of the family estate?

Jiang Yun had no complaints about how the Lin family divided the property among their three sons, but she was worried that her eldest daughter might have been treated unfairly here—perhaps she hadn’t made herself clear?

Tang Xianling noticed his eldest sister’s eyes suddenly welling up with tears. His mind cleared instantly, and the smile faded from his face. “What’s wrong? Did they bully you?” 

“No, not at all.” Tang Qiao glanced at her mother and younger brother and said, “I don’t even know who to blame…”

She explained the trouble caused by the twelve taels of silver.

Tang Xianling listened for a long while, at a loss for words—he’d never seen anyone so unreasonable. After a moment of silence, he asked, “What did your brother-in-law say?”

“They’re both my brothers, blood brothers at that, and it’s not that much less. Let’s just leave it at that,” Tang Qiao repeated his exact words.

Jiang Yun tried to smooth things over. “It’s just that our family didn’t help you out, and now we’ve caused you this whole mess.”

“What kind of trouble?” Tang Xianling retorted. “We didn’t make a mistake giving money to my eldest sister. It’s just that when my sister’s husband and his two brothers came over last time, we even bought them meat buns.”

Go eat the wind!

From the sound of it, the Lin family is also a house full of interpersonal conflicts and troubles.

“If you ask me, using the twelve taels as an excuse to split the family is actually a good thing. A house full of people is bound to be chaotic. Now that my eldest sister and her husband are living behind closed doors, they’ll have some peace and quiet. At least she’s in charge of the household—what to eat, what to buy, whether to come to town, or whether to go home—it’s all up to her,” said Tang Xianling.

Hearing this, Tang Qiao couldn’t help but chuckle. “How did I end up being the head?” But hearing Wu-ger speak like this, the lingering unease and frustration in her heart did indeed dissipate. “Earlier, because of that twelve taels of silver, the children suffered some injustices…”

Hearing this, Tang Xianling called out, “Tieniu, hitch up the cart! Let’s take Erniang and Sanlang to the West Market right now. I’ll buy the kids some toys.” 

“No, no, I wasn’t trying to pick a fight with you. I just—” Tang Qiao hurried to explain.

Tang Xianling: “Sis, I know you’re not that kind of person. Last time Third Sister came back, I took Xiangxiang to the West Market too—we ate, shopped, and bought toys. Now we’re even.”

“Right, right,” Jiang Yun nodded, pulling her eldest daughter to sit down. “Wu-ger, you take the kids. Your eldest sister and I will stay here to mind the house.” 

“Alright,” Tang Xianling nodded.

Lin Erniang and Lin Sanlang looked expectantly at their mother, unsure if they should go.

This visit to their maternal grandmother’s house was a complete transformation—it almost felt like they’d walked into the wrong house.

Lin Erniang remembered clearly: back when their maternal grandfather was alive, whenever their mother brought them here, none of the children dared to play or make a racket in the courtyard. If they did, their grandfather would scold them and shoo them out to play in the alley by the gate.

Things were truly different now.

Uncle Wu even wanted to take them to the West Market to play!

Tang Qiao glanced at her mother, then at her Wu-ger, who had already gone to change his clothes. He wasn’t just talking for the sake of it; he really intended to take the children out. A pang of sadness welled up inside her—all the grievances she had endured in her in-laws’ home seemed to vanish in an instant.

Her mother and Wu-ger cared deeply for her and the children.

“Go on, then. Stay close to Uncle Wu and don’t wander off.” 

“We know, Mother!”

The two children answered quickly.

Huangfu Tieniu had the mule cart hitched up, and Tang Xianling had packed the money. He motioned for the two children to get in. “Let’s go to the West Market. I’ll buy some vegetables, and Uncle will cook dinner when we get back.” He ruffled the third child’s hair.

The two children were still a bit shy and reserved, but they obediently climbed aboard and sat down.

But as they chatted along the way, everyone chimed in, and Lin Sanlang soon became lively. Lin Erniang had a steady temperament, much like her older sister, so Tang Xianling deliberately teased her.

“What do the little girls in your village like?” 

Lin Erniang: “They like little chicks and ducklings.” 

“?”

“My third sister raises chickens and ducks. Every time she sells them, she gets a red string…” Erniang also wanted to raise chickens and ducks; in the past, her eldest uncle, aunt, and older sister had kept them in the courtyard, but they weren’t allowed to touch them.

Tang Xianling got to the point: “Then let’s go buy a red string.”

Erniang’s little face went blank for a moment. She didn’t even have to raise chickens and ducks, sell them, and trade for a red string? She could just get one right away? She hadn’t even started raising chicks and ducklings to earn her keep yet.

“Last time Xiangxiang came over, I bought her a velvet peach hairpin. It looked so delicious and pretty, just like the real thing. I’ll pick one out for you, too.”

Tang Xianling asked the little girl, “Do you want a peach one?”

Lin Erniang shook her head.

Tang Xianling: “Huh? You don’t want one?” Now it was his turn to be surprised. She wanted the red hair ribbon, but not the little velvet peach hairpin? Then again, children’s minds are pure—they don’t measure things by price. Maybe Erniang just liked the red hair ribbon.

“Uncle, what’s a velvet peach?” Lin Erniang asked curiously, her eyes sparkling.

Tang Xianling laughed and ruffled the little girl’s hair. “You’ll find out once we get there!”

Upon hearing this, Sanlang threw a tantrum, demanding one too.

“That’s for girls to wear, isn’t it, Uncle?”

“Right.” Tang Xianling nodded.

Sanlang looked at his uncle with tears welling up in his eyes. Tang Xianling, dreading the child’s tantrums, quickly added, “Come to think of it, buying Sanlang a red hair ribbon to tie his hair back would work too.”

After all, he wouldn’t be the one tying it; as long as Sanlang didn’t mind the other kids in the village making fun of him, that was enough. Lin Erniang was overjoyed—now it had turned into “if we’re going to buy him one, let’s get him a red hair ribbon.”

Tang Xianling: … Hahahaha, she really is a sister through and through, just waiting to see her little brother make a fool of himself. Huangfu Tieniu, listening to his husband coaxing the child from the cart, also curved the corners of his lips.