OFTLHFRO C38

Honestly, Luo Mingchen didn’t want to step foot in that kind of large aristocratic clan. Just the thought of it felt suffocating.

In this society, the rules and hierarchies pressed down like a weight. Though women suffered much tighter restraints, in others’ eyes he had substituted for a woman’s role. No matter what, he would only invite scorn.

“My home is here. Why should I go back there?” Huo Yan replied.

Seeing Luo Mingchen watching him, he added, “Back when my eldest uncle and grandfather died and I had nowhere to live, I did return once. They threw me out. I knelt outside the gates for three hours before I finally saw my so-called father. He called me worthless—fifteen years old and still asking him for money. He tossed me one hundred taels of silver and said never to call him father again, that he would never acknowledge me as his son.”

Luo Mingchen asked, “And then?”

“Then I told him I only wished to join the army, to wipe out the bandits and avenge my grandfather and uncle. He refused, and he even forbade any military camp from accepting me. So, in the end, I left with only the hundred taels.”

“…I thought you would’ve just slammed that money back in his face and shouted, ‘I don’t need it!’”

The tone made Huo Yan laugh. “Why throw away free money? Especially considering that the Hou family’s debts had been paid with my mother’s dowry. They seized her inn and every one of her assets. That hundred taels was merely what I was owed.”

“True. My father didn’t give me a single coin.” Luo Mingchen paused, then frowned. “But if he cast you off so thoroughly back then, why are they calling you back now?”

The more he thought about it, the more wrong it seemed. “Could it be some scheme?”

Huo Yan smiled faintly. “I heard when I returned that he crippled his leg. As for his other two sons—raised on their mother’s indulgence—useless. No difference between them and actual cripples.”

“Why didn’t your father teach them himself?”

“He was stationed at the frontier.”

Luo Mingchen nodded. “So if we don’t go back, nothing will happen?”

“Nothing.”

Huo Yan understood well. His father hadn’t yet reached desperation—he was only sending letters now, hoping his son would crawl back to beg forgiveness.

But… why should he?

“Then we won’t go back,” Luo Mingchen decided cheerfully.

At the door of their home, he suddenly recalled something. “When you said you wanted to kill bandits—you meant the ones who slaughtered your eldest uncle’s family?”

“Mm.”

Huo Yan would never forget the scene, when he and his grandfather and cousin went to the yamen to collect corpses. After that, his grandfather fell sick, while his second uncle took advantage of the illness to strip the house of valuables, even leaving no money for medicine.

Huo Yan only found out later, returning from work, that his second uncle’s family had long ceased paying the village doctor. Still, the medic never spoke, continuing to supply his grandfather medicine.

Even so, his grandfather could not survive the bitter winter.

The two walked together, deliberately taking the long way round with no one in sight, and lingered homeward until dusk.

There at the gate, Huo Yuhui held a lantern, with his siblings waiting beside him.

Seeing their two fathers return, Huo Xiang shouted joyfully, “Little Daddy! Daddy!”

Even little Huo Xinyue joined in with a cry of “Daddy,” though to her, Little Daddy and Daddy were reversed.

Huo Yuhui led his siblings forward. Relieved to see both parents unhurt, he said, “I already cooked the rice.”

“Good boy. I’ll cook the dishes then.”

At this, Yuhui added, “Little Daddy, I also fried two dishes.”

“Really?”

Smiling, Luo Mingchen ruffled his hair. “Then let’s wash our hands and eat.”

And so, the family sat down to the table in delight.

Huo Xiang asked curiously, “Little Daddy, why did you two come back so late? Did you fight someone?”

Luo Mingchen almost laughed. “Why is your brain always full of fighting? We were just chatting on the road.”

“What were you chatting about?”

“Just…” He turned to Huo Yan and chuckled. “Comparing tragedies?”

“…” Huo Yan paused. Well, he had to admit, that wasn’t inaccurate.

In the kitchen, seeing the dishes Yuhui had stir-fried, Luo Mingchen was genuinely surprised.

“These eggs are well-cooked.”

He’d been prepared for a disaster, but it turned out the boy had talent.

Yuhui, embarrassed by the praise, said, “I didn’t find any other ingredients. So I just made eggs.”

“That’s already very good. I’ll add some meat.”

After all, he had plenty stocked in his space, but only a few eggs available outside. He’d left those specifically so the boys could make themselves something at night if they got hungry—knowing he himself slept heavily.

At the village chief’s house

Wang Xiulan, the chief’s wife, turned restlessly in bed, unable to sleep.

Her husband, Yu Hu, dozed beside her, thinking she was uncomfortable from the heat. Half-asleep, he picked up a fan and lazily waved it. “Sleep, go on.”

She chuckled, gave him a push, and whispered, “Lao Hu, don’t sleep yet. I need to tell you something.”

Groggily prying his eyes open, Yu Hu muttered, “If it’s about that Lin Qingfeng, I’ll go into town tomorrow, ask at the academy. If it’s true, then we won’t give him any more money.”

“That’s not it.”

Xiulan looked at him seriously. “Mingchen’s cabbages—he sold them to the tavern for two and a half coins a jin. They barely cared for those fields, yet the vegetables grew so much better than ours. I checked—they don’t even have a single bug hole. Why don’t we ask tomorrow where they got the seeds and buy some?”

“Two and a half coins?”

Her words jolted him awake, his fan slowing midair. “Are you sure?”

“They didn’t seem to be lying. I just don’t know what price the seeds would fetch.”

Never occurred to her that Mingchen and Huo Yan might refuse. Surely if asked, they would sell them—perhaps even gift them freely.

But still, she felt guilty at taking without paying. Best to negotiate a fair price.

Yu Hu thought for a while. “If they’ll sell, paying about fifty percent more than common seeds is fair.”

“Then let’s ask tomorrow.”

Having voiced her worry, Xiulan drifted quickly into slumber.

But Yu Hu recalled the lush fields he’d glimpsed. If every villager could grow vegetables like that, the whole village would enjoy a prosperous year.

That vision made it hard to sleep. He prodded his wife. “Xiulan…”

She frowned in her sleep and turned over. “Shut up.”

“…” Yu Hu sighed.

Back at their fields, the vegetables were ripening faster than expected.

Rising early, the couple harvested the remaining cabbages, picked plenty of peppers, and left the radishes to grow a few more days.

Corn needed to age before drying into kernels for poultry feed. If they wanted fresh corn, there was always more in Luo Mingchen’s space.

They delivered tofu and vegetables to the tavern and then checked their new home. The tiler said repairs would be done in ten days—just in time for the Mid-Autumn Festival.

That news lifted Luo Mingchen’s spirits.

When Huo Yan opened the tofu shop door, a familiar auntie came by with a basket, smiling. “So you really moved here? I came yesterday but didn’t see anyone. Thought I had the wrong place.”

Luo Mingchen recognized her—she had defended them once at their stall. Smiling in turn, he said, “We just moved yesterday. Had some business to handle, so we left early.”

In truth, the boys’ friends had bought out all the tofu, so they’d simply locked the shop and gone to inspect their new home.

The auntie looked surprised. “So you’re not living here yet?”

Luo Mingchen chuckled, setting out tofu. “Not for now.”

“Give me three blocks of tofu, then.”

Handing him coins, she added warmly, “My little grandson cries for your tofu every day.”

Wrapping up three blocks, Luo Mingchen returned a coin to her. “Only two coins today. Opening special for old customers. Come again anytime.”

Taken aback, she stared at the returned coin. “Really?”

“Of course.”

Beaming, she thanked him and left.

One block of tofu wasn’t much, but the goodwill of old customers was priceless.

Running the shop was fairly relaxed. At this point, Luo Mingchen didn’t want to push himself busier; he wanted to plan long-term items for the shop.

“You think once we’re settled in Taohua Town, we could sell spicy hot pot skewers?”*

Then he frowned. “Wouldn’t that steal business from the restaurant lady?”

Huo Yan, grasping his concern, replied, “Why not open it together?”

Luo Mingchen’s eyes lit up. “That could work. Their shop’s bigger, perfect for seating. We could provide the vegetables and broth, they sell, and we pay them wages…”

But then it sounded strange. “Wouldn’t that make them our hired workers?”

Turning a restaurant owner into his employee sounded ridiculous even to himself.

Maybe it needed more thought…

Footnotes:

• Spicy hot pot skewers (麻辣燙, málàtàng) – Street food/snack resembling hotpot, where skewers of vegetables, tofu, or meat are cooked in a spicy broth and sold individually.