Kang He was pulled aside by Chen Shi as soon as he arrived at Fan Jing’s house.
“Your father’s finally come to his senses—he actually knows how to sell manure now!”
“It was me who persuaded Dad to make fertilizer and sell it. With all the chickens, ducks, and livestock at home, we’ve got plenty of compost material. We can’t use it all ourselves, so selling some to folks in the village who want it is a good idea. He thinks so too.”
Kang He told Chen Shi everything he’d said to persuade Fan Father.
After hearing this, Chen Shi was quite pleased: “I tried persuading him before, but he never listened. It’s your words that work. If he can earn a bit of money for himself, I’m happy too. I can make money selling tofu myself, so I don’t need his few coins for wine.”
Once they started selling fertilizer from home, every few days someone would come by to buy some.
With spring plowing underway, fertilizer was in high demand, and many families were opening up new fields, making manure even more sought after.
Outside, a load of fertilizer went for eight coins per shoulder pole, and thirty coins for a cart.
Following Kang He’s advice, Fan Shoulin set his prices lower than the market—seven coins per shoulder, twenty-five for a cart.
His prices were lower, but the fertilizer was just as good. Even if it was only one or two coins cheaper, the farming families all preferred a good deal.
Not only did people from the village buy, but somehow word spread to other villages too, and they came asking about fertilizer.
For a while, there wasn’t enough to go around, but folks were willing to wait, and some even placed orders with Fan Shoulin in advance.
Fan Shoulin was energized—after a full day’s work in the fields, he wouldn’t rest when he got home, but dove right into the manure shed, only stopping for dinner.
That day, when things were less busy in the fields, Kang He and Fan Jing went together to the Linzhong Wooden House.
In April, the temperature up on the mountain had risen a bit—it wasn’t as cold as early spring anymore.
They hadn’t stayed here for some days, and the trees had shed their leaves. The roof and yard were covered with a thick layer of dead leaves, some of which had rotted after the rain, giving off a damp, musty smell.
Kang He picked up a rake and scraped the dead leaves and branches off the roof, then swept the leaves in the yard into a pile and burned them.
A column of white smoke rose up. They didn’t dare leave for fear of starting a fire, so both stayed outside.
Fan Jing didn’t stay idle either. Taking advantage of the midday sun on the mountain, he brought out the bedding, palm mats, furs, and a couple of changes of clothes, hanging them on the pole in the yard to air out the damp.
Though they’d planned to hunt during this trip to the mountain, since they’d stay for a day or two, rushing to collect honey in a single day would be too much.
They spent the day tidying up and then went out to check on the honey.
Kang He made sure the bee veils were secure, checked the gloves, and cleaned and dried all the jars and filters for the honey.
Though they hadn’t gone out wandering in the mountains, by the time they finished tidying the wooden house, it was already late.
Fan Jing brought the aired bedding back inside and had just finished making the bed when Kang He pounced onto it, rolling around on top.
The bedding had soaked up some sunshine, but there was still a faint forest scent—not as sun-warmed as the bedding at the foot of the mountain.
Kang He lay on the bed, looking at Fan Jing. “I’ve boiled the hot water.”
Fan Jing knew exactly what he meant.
The two of them were always more restrained at the foot of the mountain. Chen Shi and Fan Father had been married for many years and knew how to handle things, but there were still two young girls at home.
Now that they were up on the mountain alone, there was no need for words—they both understood.
Fan Jing asked, “Not eating dinner?”
Hearing this, Kang He guessed Fan Jing was thinking the same thing. He pulled him over. “We brought dry rations. If we get hungry, we can make do with a bite or two.”
Fan Jing said no more.
The two of them made the wooden bed creak as they tangled together. The dampness in the forest made the raw wood prone to rot, and when the bed started sounding strange, Kang He coaxed Fan Jing, saying they’d break the bed if they kept going and wouldn’t have anywhere to sleep, then dragged him over to the table at the side.
Kang He had been thinking about this all day, but figured Fan Jing would refuse, so he waited until dark.
But the wait wasn’t in vain. For the first time, they didn’t just stay on the bed, and Kang He was especially pleased.
No one knew how long they went at it, but by the time they finished, it was completely dark outside. The mountain was so quiet that every sound seemed amplified.
Fan Jing worried the noise might be heard outside, but in the end, it didn’t matter.
Halfway through, they ate a pancake with soup, then went another round.
Afterwards, they took a hot bath together in the yard, came back inside, and before they could even get to bed, somehow started up again.
After bathing twice in one day, they were both a bit tired and finally lay side by side on the bed.
The warm yellow glow of the stove filled the room. Kang He, content, hugged Fan Jing’s waist, inhaling his fresh scent, finding it especially pleasant.
Fan Jing’s limbs were soft and he lay on his side, too tired to even lift a finger.
“You don’t make a sound. Makes me feel like I’m all alone,” Kang He mumbled into Fan Jing’s neck, his voice a little hoarse.
Fan Jing answered him.
Kang He let out a low laugh, his voice carrying a hint of teasing. “There’s no one else on the mountain—what are you shy about?”
Fan Jing, hearing this, responded.
Kang He kissed Fan Jing’s ear. “How could you not want it? You enjoyed it enough to keep at it for so long.”
Fan Jing wasn’t the type to get embarrassed easily, but hearing Kang He say such things still made his ears flush red.
He thought to himself, This guy not only talks a lot, but can say anything.
“If you like hearing sounds so much, why not catch a few larks and keep them? You can listen to them all you want.”
Kang He snorted with laughter. “I’m not doing things with larks—what’s the point of listening to them sing?”
He stroked Fan Jing’s slim, supple waist. “How can you be so unromantic?”
Kang He was helpless. No matter what he did, Fan Jing seemed determined to go against him—clenching his teeth, at most letting out a muffled groan when it hurt, and just breathing heavily when it felt good.
If he didn’t sometimes respond or awkwardly meet him halfway, Kang He would almost think he was forcing him.
Fan Jing didn’t understand why he needed to make noise. Aside from the first time on their wedding night, this wasn’t exactly painful.
What’s the point in making a racket?
“Why?” Kang He asked, looking at Fan Jing, who’d turned over to face him.
His eyes, tinged with desire, were no longer as cool as usual, instead filled with genuine confusion.
Kang He found it especially captivating.
Taking the chance, he leaned in and kissed him. “If you don’t make a sound, how do I know if I’m doing well or not?”
Fan Jing frowned, thinking this was nonsense.
When he couldn’t take it, he’d grip Kang He’s arm, signaling him not to be so rough, but Kang He would act deaf and keep going.
Fan Jing ignored him and wouldn’t be coaxed.
He said, “Sleep.”
Seeing him like this, Kang He bit his chin in frustration.
The next day, Kang He and Fan Jing checked the bee boxes. Of the four boxes, three had honey ready to harvest. The last one had just been collected before they came up, and though there was some fresh honey, not much. Harvesting too often wasn’t good for the bees.
Kang He brushed off the bees and carefully took out the honeycomb. During the flowering season, the bees were plentiful and the honey in the comb was ripe and excellent.
It was heavy, and the sweet fragrance was noticeable even as he took it out.
Kang He broke off a piece and fed it to Fan Jing.
“How is it?”
Fan Jing smacked his lips. “A bit scratchy going down.”
“That’s how it should be. Only pure, unadulterated honey tastes like this.”
After harvesting three boxes, Kang He estimated they had about fifteen jin of comb honey. Back home, they’d extract the pure honey as before.
The next day, they went to Zhang Shili’s mountain to collect more honey.
Kang He had placed four boxes there, but only two had attracted bees—still, they were strong colonies. With the locust flowers in full bloom and wild nectar sources, the honey flow was excellent.
From the two boxes, they harvested about eight jin of comb honey.
Kang He wanted to give some to Zhang Shili, but he waved it off, saying he didn’t care for it and no one at home would eat it. He told Kang He to keep it or sell it, rather than waste it on him.
“If you want to give me something, make a good meat dish instead.”
Kang He agreed, and at noon stewed a pot of Ashen Rabbit. In spring, there were plenty of wild greens in the mountains—he grabbed some bamboo shoots, picked some water celery, dug up shepherd’s purse… They washed everything and cooked it around the stove, eating as they went.
Zhang Shili hadn’t hunted much this spring—since it was breeding season, he avoided pregnant animals, so there was less game to be had.
Hunters in the mountains usually didn’t spend much time at the top during this season, but Zhang Shili treated this place as his own home. Even if he didn’t hunt, he wouldn’t go back to the village.
There was an Old House in the village, but the fields had long been sold off.
When Kang He and Fan Jing were in the mountains, he’d stop by every few days. Once they went back down, things quieted down. Still, when he was free, he’d stay in the City for two or three days at a time.
At night, the two who’d come up together processed the honey, then went down the mountain on the fourth day.
A jin of comb honey yielded about seven liang of pure honey, so this time they got sixteen jin and five liang of honey in total—a rare haul.
Depending on how the bees did this year, they might harvest again in the fall.
For first-year colonies, they didn’t dare take honey too often. Once they were established, they could harvest one or two more times a year.
“You two went up the mountain?”
As soon as they reached the foot of the mountain, Kang He and Fan Jing ran into Xu Yang, who was dressed especially bright and clean.
Kang He said, “We went up a few days ago, just came down today.”
Xu Yang asked what mountain goods they’d brought back.
Kang He didn’t hide it, pulling a small jar of honey—about two or three liang—from his basket to give to Xu Yang.
It wasn’t just generosity—back when they were measuring land, Xu Yang had helped, and he was also Fan Jing’s younger cousin.
“Mountain honey, this is great!”
Xu Yang took the jar, opened it for a sniff, and was greeted by a faint floral fragrance.
Then he asked Kang He, “Do you have more? Sell me some.”
Before Kang He could answer, Fan Jing pulled a larger jar from his basket and handed it to Xu Yang. “Three hundred coins.”
Xu Yang readily agreed. He pulled out a piece of silver. “I don’t have that much copper on me. Should I pay the difference in silver now, or bring you the coins next time?”
Kang He said, “Next time is fine.”
“Alright. This big jar is what I’m buying, the small one’s your gift—so I won’t pay extra for that.”
Xu Yang wrapped the honey jar in a cloth and, clearly having business elsewhere, didn’t linger but took his leave.
After he left, Kang He was surprised Fan Jing had sold something to Xu Yang and asked what was up with him today.
Fan Jing said, “The Yuan family lives at the foot of the mountain—he’s definitely going to see Yuan Guo.”
Just as Fan Jing guessed, Xu Yang carried the honey jar straight to the River at the foot of the mountain.
There were only two households in that area; most villagers lived near the main road.
At this hour, there was rarely anyone around.
But by the riverbank, under a clump of bamboo, a slender figure was squatting.
His sleeves were rolled up, revealing a fair wrist, and he was pounding clothes in a basin with a wooden mallet. The sparkling water reflected flecks of light onto the patched shoulder of his shirt.
“Yuan Ge’er!”
Xu Yang, spotting him, was overjoyed and ran over.
Hearing the voice, Yuan Guo turned his head. His clear eyes sparkled like the river.
“What brings you here?”
“I’ve just cleared those new acres I bought, and now I’ve got some free time, so I came to see you.”
Xu Yang, usually so steady outside, was now shining with excitement before Yuan Guo, looking like a child of ten.
Seeing Xu Yang’s forehead beaded with sweat, Yuan Guo pulled out an indigo handkerchief, soaked it in the cool river, wrung it out, and wiped Xu Yang’s face.
His voice was gentle and unhurried, like an April breeze. “Why’d you walk so fast? Look at all that sweat. Have you been working hard lately? You’ve gotten much tanner.”
“I don’t feel tired at all.”
Looking at Yuan Guo, Xu Yang felt a fullness in his heart and couldn’t help but ask after him, his family, and how his Xiao Die’s health was.
Yuan Guo answered everything with a smile.
“The medicine you brought last time helped a lot. Now that it’s warmer, Xiao Die can do some light chores. He still talks about you, saying you’re hardworking since you’re busy opening up new land.”
Hearing this, Xu Yang was very pleased. He took two packs of pastries from his coat and gave them to Yuan Guo.
They sat side by side on the field ridge, eating candied fruit together.
“I just ran into Fan Jing and his husband coming down the mountain. They got some honey, and I bought a jar from them. You can mix it with water to drink.”
“You’re always spending money. Even if you have money, you should save it. We’ve got a long road ahead.”
Yuan Guo looked at the jar of honey, knowing it wasn’t cheap, and couldn’t help but chide Xu Yang, “You’re always buying things—wasting your money.”
“It makes me happy to buy things for you. How can that be wasting? If I spent it elsewhere, that’d be a waste. Besides, all the money I save is for you anyway—sooner or later, it’ll be yours.”
Hearing this, Yuan Guo pursed his lips and looked down shyly, a warm, sweet smile on his lips.
“I wanted to go see Jing Ge’er at his wedding banquet too, but Xiao Die was coughing badly that day, couldn’t get out of bed, so I didn’t dare leave. Otherwise, I’d have had some of their wedding wine.”
Xiao Die’s illness was one thing, but Yuan Guo also felt he had nothing proper to give as a wedding gift.
“They’re not often in the village, and even when they are, it’s not easy to see them. But a while back I went to the City and saw his husband from afar—he’s a really good man, a perfect match for Jing Ge’er.”
Xu Yang agreed, “His husband is really something—much easier to get along with than Fan Jing.”
He sounded a little jealous. He used to worry with Fan Xin that Fan Jing would never marry, but now they’d beaten him to it and were living a great life.
Earlier, he’d seen them holding hands on the mountain road. If he hadn’t been in a hurry to find Yuan Guo, he’d have teased Fan Jing.
Fan Jing and Kang He were living happily, but Xu Yang still couldn’t marry Yuan Guo, which made him feel a bit defeated.
But he was still confident, and told Yuan Guo, “Even without relying on my parents, I now own fifteen mu of land. In a couple of years, when it’s time to choose a village head, I’ll stand for it. If I win, no one can stop me, and then I’ll come to your house beating drums to propose.”
Yuan Guo smiled at his words, touched by Xu Yang’s sincerity, but soon his eyes filled with worry again.
“A-Yang… I know how you feel, but…”
Before Yuan Guo could finish, Xu Yang grew anxious. “I know I’ve made you wait too long. It’s my fault for not growing up sooner, for not making something of myself earlier, for being slow in business. You’re so good—I thought once I was of age and told my family, they’d happily agree. But my father and grandfather, both scholars, are so stubborn!”
Xu Yang had mentioned wanting to marry Yuan Guo when he was sixteen, but his family thought he was too young and didn’t take it seriously.
When he came of age and they tried to arrange a suitable match for him, he made his intentions clear. Only then did his family realize he was serious.
But the Xu family didn’t agree to the match—they only had one son per generation.
Xu Xiu Cai had only one son; Xu Tong Sheng likewise had only Xu Yang. Even if he’d been mischievous as a child and not much of a scholar, the family doted on him.
The Xu family wasn’t wealthy or noble, but they were a scholarly household, never short of food or clothing.
They had many students, and not just in the village—their reputation reached the City, where even the county magistrate had invited them to banquets.
With Xu Yang as the only heir, they naturally wanted a good marriage for him—not necessarily a prestigious one, but at least a good match. Yuan Guo’s family, though, fell short.
The Yuan family were outsiders—Yuan Die had brought his husband to settle here as refugees, and life had never been easy. In recent years, with conscription after conscription, they’d had to pay taxes to avoid service, but when they couldn’t, he’d gone to war and never returned.
Xiao Die, missing his husband, fell ill from grief. With no son in the family, only Yuan Guo, life was hard and pitiful.
If not for Xu Yang’s protection, with Yuan Guo’s good looks and poor background, who knows what might have happened to him by now.
The Xu family had always turned a blind eye to Xu Yang’s care for Yuan Guo, but never agreed to the match.
When the family refused, Xu Yang tried to make his own way—if he couldn’t succeed in the exams, he’d go out and do business.
He worked hard and managed to earn some money and saw good prospects.
Last year, Xu Yang received a letter from Fan Xin while away, saying Sun Xiansheng had harassed Yuan Guo several times, and that there were some idle men in the village with bad intentions. Yuan Guo was so frightened he didn’t dare leave home, not even to the City, and could only ask others to help bring things home.
Worried, Xu Yang rushed back.
His grandfather, seeing him getting older, wanted him to settle down and arranged a match with a quiet scholar’s daughter, hoping to get him married.
But Xu Yang refused, and they argued. Xu Xiu Cai was so angry he fell ill and was bedridden for over a week. Xu Tong Sheng was furious too, scolding Xu Yang for being unfilial and giving him a good beating.
Xu Yang took the beating but wouldn’t agree to the marriage.
The family couldn’t do anything with him. He wouldn’t stay in the City, but came to the village.
Yuan Guo knew all this and felt bad—because Xu Yang’s feelings were genuine, not just a way to depend on him, Yuan Guo’s heart ached all the more.
He didn’t want Xu Yang to fall out with his family over him. Xu Yang should have had a great life, but now he was burdened by him.
Earlier, Yuan Guo had suggested breaking up and letting their families make arrangements.
But Xu Yang was so heartbroken he wasted away, losing weight in a month.
He begged Yuan Guo, saying he wouldn’t rely on his family and would make his own way to marry him, pleading not to break up.
Seeing him like that, Yuan Guo couldn’t bear it either—after all, they’d grown up together, and how could he really let go? So he let Xu Yang coax him back.
Yuan Guo didn’t mind waiting, nor did Xiao Die, though he worried that if things didn’t work out, Yuan Guo would miss his best years and find it hard to marry well.
But if he couldn’t be with Xu Yang, it didn’t matter who he married. Besides, with their family situation, it’s not like they could expect a good match.
Yuan Guo was younger than Xu Yang—nineteen this year, while Xu Yang was already twenty-three. Hadn’t he wasted his best years too?
And it wasn’t as if Xu Yang was just making empty promises—he really was making a living, buying land in the village with his own business earnings, and working to clear it himself.
Even if in the end they couldn’t be together, Yuan Guo wouldn’t blame him at all.
“Don’t blame yourself—you’ve already done so well. I’m not afraid of waiting. I just feel bad that things are so tense between you and Xu Xiu Cai and Xu Tong Sheng. You were always the beloved child in your family.”
Xu Yang didn’t say that if his family really loved him, they wouldn’t have put him in such a difficult position—those were the words of someone immature.
Aside from the marriage issue, his family had always treated him well, and he knew they meant well, but he just couldn’t accept it.
“Don’t worry about it—I can handle it. Just, if they come looking for you, I hope you’ll stand by me and not listen to what they say.”
They talked for a long while, and when it grew late, Xu Yang picked up the washbasin and walked Yuan Guo home before leaving.
But as soon as he got home—before he even reached the house—he saw the family’s City carriage on the road.
Xu Yang guessed it was either his father or grandfather who had come.
He frowned, not knowing why they’d come out to the countryside. The exam results had just been posted, so they shouldn’t have had time to leave the City.
Xu Yang felt uneasy, but still went up to greet them.