The main meal was dinner, and after noon, guests gradually arrived to drink and celebrate.
Kang He and Fan Jing, led by Fan’s father and Madam Chen, greeted the guests at the door.
Since Kang He was the one marrying into the family, the customs were less formal than those for a groom’s family.
Typically, after the bride and groom completed the rituals, they would be sent to the bridal chamber.
However, in cases like Kang He and Fan Jing’s, they could receive and entertain guests outside.
Introduced by Madam Chen and Fan’s father, they addressed this person as “aunt,” that one as “cousin,” or “Uncle Zhang” and “Elder Li.”
Kang He had a good memory and could roughly recall the faces of those he spoke with more.
He followed the elders’ instructions on how to address people and even managed to say a few polite, pleasant words.
That day, both openly and behind their backs, the guests remarked that the Fan family’s son-in-law was truly impressive.
Later, even the village head arrived.
Fan’s father and Madam Chen felt greatly honored and eagerly ushered him inside, arranging for him to sit at the main table.
The village head, surnamed Chen and named Chen Yushun, wore a short, red-collared cotton jacket with rolled-up sleeves.
His clothes were not particularly clean, stained with some soup and dirt, as if he had come straight from work at home.
He sat upright, his eyes sweeping over the Fan couple, and said, “Well, your family’s putting on quite a lively show today. Brother Fan, you’re a lucky man.”
“It’s nothing impressive, Village Head, don’t tease us. Your presence is what makes this feast lively,” they replied.
The village head glanced at Kang He and Fan Jing, seemingly about to say something, but then spotted Fan Shoushan, who was chatting with two elderly relatives at one end.
He left the couple and went over to greet him.
“Brother Fan, you must be thrilled to be the big uncle today. Where’s your little scholar? Back at the schoolhouse? And the second girl, she didn’t come home either?”
“Thank you for your concern, Village Head. My eldest son’s back at school studying. The exams are coming up, and his studies are tight. Xiangxiu came home for the feast, but the main family’s busy, so she couldn’t stay long.”
“You’re a fortunate man; your children are so capable. When Daxin excels in his studies, our village might produce a proper scholar-official.”
It was Kang He’s first time meeting this village leader.
He wasn’t tall, about the same height as Fan Jing, but full of energy and spirit.
Kang He had heard some talk about the village head before and didn’t have a good impression of him.
Seeing him in person now, he felt his judgment wasn’t entirely wrong—the man clearly didn’t think much of their branch of the family.
Still, Kang He wasn’t bothered, and Fan’s father and Madam Chen seemed accustomed to the village head’s attitude, remaining cheerful.
Earlier, when a scoundrel named Sun Dasheng had set his sights on Fan Jing, Chen Yushun had even tried to act as a matchmaker.
Fan Jing naturally refused, speaking bluntly, which embarrassed the village head and caused some resentment.
When it came time to choose an auspicious day for the wedding, Fan’s father, fearing they couldn’t please the village head and might offend him further, had Fan Shoushan accompany him to make the arrangements.
The fact that the village head showed up for the feast, likely out of respect for the main branch, already left the couple quite satisfied.
At the appointed time, Kang He and Fan Jing performed the rituals in front of the village head and other elders.
A string of firecrackers went off outside the courtyard, marking the completion of the simple ceremony.
With that, the tables outside were set with bowls and chopsticks, and the helpers called for everyone to take their seats as the dishes were served.
The lively feast began.
Madam Chen had prepared for twelve tables, but when everyone was seated, three tables remained empty.
A few more guests arrived later, filling one more table, but two tables of food and wine were still left unused.
Kang He and Fan Jing went around with wine, toasting each table.
After sharing a cup, since Kang He was the one marrying in, some men thought they could tease him and insisted he drink more.
On such a joyous day, Kang He couldn’t lose face, so he drank.
After a couple of tables, it was still manageable, but as the rounds continued, even watered-down wine started to take its toll.
At one point, a distant uncle, quite shamelessly, insisted Kang He toast him a full bowl alone.
Kang He complied, but the man still wasn’t satisfied, claiming it was rare to enjoy a Fan family feast and who knew when the next chance would come.
He wanted to drink to his heart’s content with his “nephew-in-law.”
He poured himself a half bowl of watered-down wine but filled Kang He’s bowl to the brim.
“Come, nephew-in-law, give your uncle some face today. Let’s drink to our hearts’ content, and I’ll give face to your father, Old Fan, in the future.”
Kang He saw the uncle was being unreasonable, ignoring both pleas and reasoning, sticking to his own logic.
Just as Kang He was about to take the wine, a hand from the side intercepted it.
Turning his head, Kang He saw Fan Jing tilt his head back and down the entire bowl in one go.
When finished, he turned the bowl upside down to show not a drop remained.
“According to custom, a man drinking on behalf of a woman or young man must drink three bowls. Today, it’s the other way around—I’ll drink for him. Cousin, drink three bowls and enjoy yourself.”
The people at the table cheered at Fan Jing’s words, egging the uncle on to drink three bowls.
The uncle, not much of a drinker and fond of tricking others into getting drunk for fun, found himself cornered.
He tried to dodge, but someone grabbed him back, saying, “Lai San’er, don’t embarrass us men. Drink with Brother Jing!”
Held down, the uncle had to drink three bowls for every one Fan Jing drank, eventually pleading for mercy.
After this display, no other man dared to pressure Kang He into drinking more.
After toasting a few more tables, Kang He stole a glance at Fan Jing, noticing him squinting slightly and stumbling a couple of steps.
Fan Jing quickly steadied him, frowning.
“You alright?”
“Drank a bit much. Let’s go back to the room and rest.”
Seeing it was getting dark and the event was nearly over, Fan Jing nodded and helped Kang He back to their room.
Leaning on Fan Jing, Kang He walked slowly, looking convincingly drunk.
But the moment they stepped into the room, his eyes cleared, and he promptly bolted the door.
Fan Jing, noticing his swift movements, raised an eyebrow and let go of his arm.
“You’re not drunk.”
Kang He smiled.
“How could watered-down wine get me drunk? But if I let them keep pestering me like that, when would it ever end?”
Fan Jing didn’t reply.
He, too, disliked such relentless drinking antics.
Looking at the man before him, Kang He, perhaps warmed by the wine or something else, felt his face flush.
He said softly, “Let me hold you.”
Fan Jing looked at him, puzzled.
“Hold…”
Before he could finish, his feet left the ground as Kang He scooped him up by the waist.
Fan Jing’s eyes widened slightly.
“You agreed to it,” Kang He said, looking at the man in his arms, whose cheeks seemed even redder than they had outside.
He leaned closer.
“Are you embarrassed?”
Fan Jing turned his head slightly.
“I’m drunk.”
Kang He knew exactly how much Fan Jing had drunk and whether it was enough to make him tipsy, but he played along.
“No matter. You won’t need to exert yourself for what comes next.”
“What do you mean?”
Kang He didn’t answer.
He carried Fan Jing to the bed, removed his shoes and socks, and fetched two cups of wine from beside the red candles.
Handing one to Fan Jing, he said, “See? I’m not making you work.”
Fan Jing took the cup, and they drank with their arms intertwined.
The wine in the room was much stronger than the watered-down stuff outside, burning as it went down.
After drinking, Kang He took off his own shoes and socks and sat on the bed.
Fan Jing vaguely knew what was to come, though he had never seen how such things were done between people.
He recalled Kang He once jokingly saying it was like rabbits mating, stacked together.
Curious, he had secretly observed the rabbits in their pen, but he hadn’t seen clearly.
Still, it seemed the male rabbit did most of the work.
He looked at Kang He, somewhat awkwardly.
“Can we… do it tonight?”
Kang He pursed his lips.
“What newlyweds don’t do it on their wedding night? But it’s not entirely necessary—it depends on whether you’re willing.”
Fan Jing didn’t know how to respond, so he simply lay down.
“Let’s try.”
Kang He leaned forward at those words.
“This isn’t like other things. If we try and it doesn’t work, there’s no going back.”
Fan Jing’s fingers twitched unconsciously.
Looking at Kang He, he said, “If we don’t try, how will we know if it works?”
Kang He, seeing Fan Jing’s earnestness, felt a jolt in his heart.
“It’s my first time too, and I don’t know much about how it is with a young man like you. If I don’t do it well, please bear with me. After all, I’m younger than you.”
Fan Jing fell silent.
He wasn’t worried about Kang He’s performance but feared Kang He might take issue with him.
He wanted to clarify things beforehand to avoid disappointment mid-act but didn’t know how to say it.
In the end, he only said, “Let’s try and see.”
Kang He, made cautious by Fan Jing’s words, proceeded carefully.
Clothes fell from the bed, and shadows danced on the curtains.
Fan Jing, looking at his wheat-colored arms, stopped Kang He from continuing and asked him to extinguish the lamp.
“Don’t you want to see me properly?” Kang He asked, slightly reluctant.
The room was lit only by two red candles, already dim.
Fan Jing shielded his eyes.
“It’s too bright.”
Seeing his insistence, Kang He got out of bed, shirtless, and put out the lamp.
The room plunged into darkness, with no moonlight, only the sound of breathing audible.
Later, Kang He understood why Fan Jing had insisted on extinguishing the light.
His chest bore several neat scars, and there was a deep one on the inside of his thigh—marks from an incident that had nearly cost him his life.
They fumbled for a long time, losing track of when the guests outside dispersed and the Fan household returned to quiet.
Having eaten little during the evening, only drinking watered-down wine, they grew hungry.
Kang He slipped into the kitchen, lit a fire, warmed two dishes, and brought them back to the room.
They ate their fill, and back in bed, Kang He asked Fan Jing if their earlier attempt had been successful.
Fan Jing didn’t answer but didn’t stop Kang He’s hands from undoing his clothes again.
The next morning, the big rooster sent by the Ge family crowed three times before Fan Jing woke.
Normally a light sleeper, accustomed to staying alert in the mountains, he had slept deeply, exhausted from the previous night.
Even awake, he didn’t want to move; his waist and legs ached terribly with the slightest motion.
An arm was still draped over his waist.
“Awake?” Kang He, noticing the change in Fan Jing’s breathing, nuzzled the back of his neck, where two red bite marks lingered.
The nuzzling caused Fan Jing some pain, but he didn’t speak.
He was still thinking about how, despite their long night, Kang He hadn’t mentioned the scars on his body.
Instead, he had touched and kissed them, showing no sign of disdain.
This eased a weight in Fan Jing’s heart.
“Why aren’t you answering me?” Kang He, getting no response, rolled over to face the man who had his back to him.
Their eyes met, and Fan Jing said, “I’m awake.”
“Then why didn’t you answer earlier?” Kang He asked.
“Did I make you unhappy? Was last night a failure?”
Fan Jing looked at Kang He’s still-reddened lips, recalling how bold they had been, and couldn’t meet his gaze.
“I don’t know. We’ll try again next time.”
Kang He laughed and leaned in to kiss Fan Jing again, but a knock came at the door.
“Big Brother, Brother-in-law, time to get up for breakfast!”
Hearing this, both felt too embarrassed to linger in bed and hurriedly dressed.
Normally, Kang He and Fan Jing rose early, but today, the sun was high, and most households had already eaten breakfast and gone about their work.
Everyone tacitly understood why the couple was up so late.
After washing up, the family ate in the main room.
“We still need to return the borrowed tables, chairs, benches, and dishes to each household,” Madam Chen said.
“There’s plenty of food left from yesterday’s feast. Share some of the meat and dishes with those who lent us things.”
“Alright,” they agreed.
After breakfast, the family got to work.
The dishes were carried back in baskets, manageable in a couple of trips, but the tables and benches were trickier, as only one table could be returned at a time.
Damaged or broken items were noted for compensation—some with coins, others with a bowl of meat or vegetables.
By afternoon, everything was returned.
Fan Jing felt out of sorts, his body aching and lacking strength, a sensation entirely different from past injuries.
Too embarrassed to admit it, he felt as though Kang He was still inside him, unsure if it was because it was their first time or because Kang He had gone on for so long.
Dazed, he helped return the items.
With nothing left to do in the afternoon, he went back to the room, kicked off his shoes, and lay on the bed.
He didn’t care if people gossiped—after a night of such exertion, anyone would be worn out.
He couldn’t help but wonder how delicate young men managed after marriage if even he, with his sturdy build, was in such a state.
When Kang He returned to the room, he saw Fan Jing lying on the bed, covered with a blanket.
He hurried over, touched Fan Jing’s forehead, and, finding it cool, felt slightly relieved.
“Feeling unwell?”
Fan Jing opened his eyes.
“Tired. I’ll sleep for a bit.”
“Is it tiredness, or is your body uncomfortable?”
Fan Jing didn’t answer.
Kang He coaxed, “If you’re sore, I’ll give you a massage.”
Fan Jing thought letting Kang He massage him would seem too delicate.
He turned away, saying, “Not sore. I’m going to sleep.”
Kang He knew from this that Fan Jing was indeed uncomfortable.
When called out, Fan Jing would never admit it and would use sleep as an excuse.
Sitting on the bed, Kang He said, “I’ll rub your shoulders and back. It’ll help, and you won’t feel so sore.”
Kang He lifted the blanket.
Fan Jing didn’t agree but didn’t refuse either.
Lying face down, he initially thought Kang He was just making an excuse for something improper.
But he was wrong—Kang He massaged him earnestly, not wandering aimlessly.
Soon, the tension in his neck, shoulders, and waist eased, and Fan Jing drifted into a hazy sleep.
Hearing Fan Jing’s soft breathing, Kang He continued his careful work.
Seeing Fan Jing like this, he felt both satisfied and regretful.
It was their first time, and he should have been more restrained.
Fan Jing’s allure had been hard to resist, especially since he endured pain silently, even in bed, which only spurred Kang He to push him further.
It had been a bit much.
Once Fan Jing was sound asleep, Kang He tucked the blanket around him and left the room quietly.
“Sanlang, you’re here,” Madam Chen called as he stepped out.
“Yesterday’s guests brought gifts—some gave coins, others brought items. The gift money totals 880 coins. Besides that, we received four bolts of plain cloth, two packets of brown sugar, four packets of white sugar, a pair of hens, a pair of ducks, six candles, two mandarin-duck ceramic basins, and a kettle with cups.”
She handed Kang He the gift money box and had him check the items.
“You and Dajing paid for the feast, and there are 300 coins left from what he provided. Your father and I discussed it—the gift money and items should go to you two.”
Kang He, however, didn’t accept.
“Though Dajing paid for the feast, the meat came from the pigs you and Father raised, which made up most of the dishes. Also, come spring, Dajing and I will head to the mountains, and you’ll be the ones handling things in the village. If we take the gift money now, when it’s time to give gifts for others’ weddings or birthdays, you’d have to pay out of pocket. Most of the guests came for you and Father, not us, and we’ll need to return the favor later.”
Fan Jing’s maternal relatives had grown distant since his mother’s passing.
His grandfather and great-uncle had died in recent years, and his only aunt had moved away with her husband, leaving little contact with extended family.
Zhang Shili had sent a new iron knife as a wedding gift, the Ge family gave a jug of lamp oil and two foot basins, and the Liang family from town sent two bolts of spring cloth.
Kang He had already kept these gifts and would reciprocate when those families had events.
Madam Chen, touched by Kang He’s thoughtfulness, said, “Even if you don’t take the gift money, you should keep the items. Newlyweds need more than a single person does—there’s much you’ll use.”
Kang He agreed and stored the items in their new room.
His old room had been turned into a storage space.
Fan Jing, stirred by the noise, woke up.
Sitting up, he felt surprisingly refreshed—his body much more comfortable.
Looking at Kang He, he asked, “What are you moving?”
“Did I wake you?” Kang He walked over and explained the gift money situation.
Fan Jing hadn’t expected to keep the gift money when planning the feast.
He also recalled Kang He saying that to see if someone had truly changed, you couldn’t control everything.
Giving them space to act freely was the way to test their sincerity.
Fan Jing felt Kang He was far better at handling household matters than he was.
These bothersome tasks could be left to Kang He in the future.
But he couldn’t let Kang He do all the work without some reward.
He went to his old room and returned with a palm-sized box and a booklet Kang He hadn’t seen before, handing both to him.
Kang He opened the booklet first, seeing the words “deed” and his name, along with their county and village.
Opening the box, he found it full of money—copper coins strung into stacks of a thousand, a hundred, or a few dozen, plus a few pieces of silver, some as large as a thumb, others as small as a pinky.
Fan Jing said, “There’s a total of 6,857 coins and three taels, four qian of silver.”
He had saved this over recent years, living frugally and keeping a tight grip on his money.
When his family asked for funds, he never gave generously, only half at most, forcing them to find ways to cover the rest.
This was to prevent them from thinking money came easily and to avoid fostering dependency.
In the mountains, where crises could arise unexpectedly, he didn’t want them relying solely on him.
If something happened to him, how would the family survive?
His earlier experiences had driven him to amass this small fortune.
Kang He realized Fan Jing was entrusting him with everything.
“You’re giving me the deed and your savings? Aren’t you afraid I’ll take it all and run?”
Fan Jing replied, “If that’s the case, I’ll accept it. Even if I spent money on a fake son-in-law, I could still raise a child on my own.”
Kang He’s brow furrowed.
He hugged Fan Jing tightly.
“Good brother, don’t toss me aside after using me. How could I be so heartless as to leave you to raise a child alone?”
He pulled out his own money—1,123 coins and a piece of silver less than two taels.
“This is all I have, but I promise you, I’ll earn more in the future to support you and our children, so you won’t have to work as hard as before.”
Fan Jing didn’t care how much Kang He earned.
His diligence and ambition were enough.
Plus, with his clever tongue, he was already making more than before, and given time, Fan Jing had no doubt he’d succeed.
But since they were married and hadn’t split households, some things needed clarity.
“I know you’re capable, but let me be clear. Zhener and Qiaor are still young, but when they grow up and find matches, I’ll help them. If you object, I’ll manage on my own without neglecting our family.”
Kang He replied, “You’re their big brother, and I’m their brother-in-law. How could we not care for family? Besides, the girls are obedient and sensible. I know you’re warning me about the burden of supporting the family, but with our hands and feet and strong bodies, we’re not afraid of hard work. We’ll make a good life together.”
Fan Jing looked deeply at Kang He, a rare sense of solidity settling in his heart.
“Mm.”
I so love their relationship, even if it’s unconventional, it’s got healthy dose of communication