After the Sweet Little Husband Got Remarried - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was precisely the hour of dusk — the sun had sunk beyond the western hills, twilight draped the land, and the endless folds of the mountain forest melted into the misty veil of evening.

At the far end of Shuitang Village, however, the Shen household was alight with lively bustle.

Today was the wedding day of the Shen family’s eldest son, Shen Ying. Yet, curiously, the wedding banquet was not held in the newly built house at the eastern end of the village, but at the foot of the mountain behind the village — in the family’s old residence.

“The Shen patriarch really is a partial man,” someone muttered. “The eldest has always been the one hunting in the mountains and toiling in the fields. Even the new house was mostly built through his hard work, but in the end, all the money went to the third son’s schooling. Now that the family’s been split, the old man doesn’t even show up for his own son’s wedding feast.”

“Isn’t that just the way of it? They say once there’s a stepmother, there’s also a stepfather. Even if Shen Wenlu were willing to pay for the wedding, would that wife of his, Feng Xianglian, agree? Besides, Shen Wenlu’s always been biased. No matter how you put it, it’s true — a birth mother can never be replaced.”

“Speaking of that, I heard Shen Ying’s new husband also has a stepmother. Supposedly, his stepmother remarried too. Wasn’t he originally engaged to that young man from the Lu family in Shiqiao Village? How did that change?”

“I’m not too sure about the details,” another said. “But the Jiang family next door accidentally let something slip — they said the two brothers from the Lu family swapped marriage partners. The one marrying into the Shen family is now the younger brother, Lu Lu.”

“Swapped marriage partners? So that’s what happened? No wonder the wedding came so soon after the betrothal gifts were exchanged.”

“Exactly. Shen Ying really hasn’t had it easy. Now that he’s separated from the family and moved into that shabby hut under the mountain, who knows how hard his days will become?”

Just then, the crackling of firecrackers sounded from outside the courtyard — the wedding procession had returned from Shiqiao Village. The two women helping in the kitchen immediately stopped gossiping and craned their necks to look outside.

Beyond the earthen wall of the courtyard, a crowd had gathered. Amid the joyous sound of festive music, a tall figure clad in wedding robes bent down, lifted the bridegroom—his head covered with a red veil—from the mule cart, and carried him through the gate toward the main hall.

Not a single person from the Shen family proper had come. On the central table of the hall sat only a memorial tablet for Shen Ying’s late mother. Holding the red silk ribbon, Shen Ying and the veiled groom crossed over the brazier, bowed to the tablet, and under the cheers of the onlookers, Shen Ying carried his spouse into the bridal chamber.

The unveiling of the red veil and the traditional teasing of the bridal chamber would take place later that night. Outside, guests were still dining and drinking. Shen Ying gently set his new husband upon the bed, freshly covered with red bedding, and then went out to toast the guests, leaving the groom alone inside.

Before he left, he called out to the Jiang family’s young man following behind him, “Later, help me bring a bowl of food to your sister-in-law. Make sure there’s plenty of meat.”

Madam Jiang had once been close friends with Shen Ying’s late mother — the two had married into Shuitang Village around the same time. After Shen’s mother passed away early, the Jiang family often looked after Shen Ying. Even the mule cart used for the wedding procession had been lent by them.

The Jiang boy grinned and replied, “Don’t worry, Brother Shen, leave it to me.”

Inside the bridal chamber, Lu Lu sat quietly on the edge of the bed.

The window before him faced the courtyard, its paper panes decorated with a bright red double happiness character. The cheerful chatter and laughter of the guests drifted in from outside, mixed with Shen Ying’s voice as he toasted the crowd.

Lu Lu didn’t dare lift his veil. His hands rested properly on his knees. The thought that today was his wedding day — that he had truly become Shen Ying’s spouse — still felt somewhat unreal.

His original fiancé had not been Shen Ying, but a scholar from Qinghe Village, surnamed Song — Song Sheng — to whom he had been betrothed since infancy by his late fathers.

Not long after Lu Lu’s birth, his biological father passed away from illness. His remaining parent worked the fields alone to raise him, until a matchmaker introduced a new husband, now his stepfather.

While his remaining parent was alive, the stepfather had treated him indifferently but not cruelly. Yet after the man’s passing, the stepfather’s disdain grew into open hostility — calling him a bringer of misfortune, striking him with switches, and forcing upon him all manner of hard labor.

So, he endured in silence until he came of marriageable age, hoping that once he wed his fiancé, he could finally escape that household.

But fate had other plans. On the day the betrothal gifts were to be delivered, Lu Lu accidentally stumbled upon his stepbrother and his fiancé, Song Sheng, in a secret embrace.

That stepbrother, Lu Wei, was the child born to his stepfather and his late parent — only two years his junior. Earlier that year, Lu Wei had been engaged to a hunter from Shuitang Village surnamed Shen. The Shen family had built a new house the previous year, and Shen Ying, being a skilled hunter, made a desirable match. Their stepfather had agreed at once.

Both brothers were to be betrothed on the same day. Since Qinghe and Shiqiao were neighboring villages, Song Sheng arrived first with his gifts.

Though they lived nearby, propriety kept them apart — Lu Lu was too shy to speak much to Song Sheng. Even when they crossed paths, they exchanged only a few polite words.

Thus, when he opened the door that day and saw the two men embracing, he froze in place, unable to believe his eyes. Never had he seen such intimacy between a man and a ge’er, let alone between his own fiancé and brother.

As he stood there in shock, the pair noticed him. Startled, he instinctively turned and fled, but his foot slipped, and he tumbled into the river behind the house — just as Shen Ying was crossing the nearby bridge. Shen Ying dove in and pulled him from the water.

He had heard of Shen Ying before — the villagers often spoke of the man. A tall, stern-faced hunter, said to have once killed a wolf with his bare hands; cold and fierce, not someone easily crossed.

Lu Lu had seen him only twice — once when Shen Ying came to propose marriage to Lu Wei, and once again when he rescued him from the river.

But the rescue soon became a weapon turned against him. Lu Wei twisted the story, claiming Lu Lu and Shen Ying had shared improper physical contact. Pretending to be magnanimous, Lu Wei offered — before all the villagers — to “exchange” betrothals with his brother.

Lu Lu knew exactly why — Lu Wei wished to marry Song Sheng. And knowing Shen Ying was being wronged because he had merely saved him, Lu Lu, timid as he was, gathered his courage for the first time in his life and confessed what he had seen.

But before the words even finished leaving his mouth, his stepfather had struck him and shouted abuse. Lu Wei denied everything, Song Sheng said nothing, his guilt written across his face. The villagers gathered to watch the spectacle. His stepfather, furious, grabbed a stick to beat him — only for Shen Ying to intervene.

The scene descended into chaos until the village headman arrived and stopped the fight. In the end, the matter was settled when Shen Ying, perhaps out of honor or resignation, agreed to the marriage swap. The wedding date was set for three days later.

Because of the haste — and the scandal — Lu Lu was sent off with only a small wooden chest containing a few old clothes.

At first, he couldn’t understand why Lu Wei would forsake Shen Ying, who was strong and capable, for Song Sheng, whose family was poor and whose father had died early, leaving only a widowed mother and modest means.

Later, he overheard the truth — Shen Ying had quarreled with his father and stepmother over the wedding and had angrily moved out to live alone in the old hut by the mountain. Marrying him meant a life of hardship, and Lu Wei had no wish for that.

Looking down at the faint marks still visible on his wrist from his stepfather’s beatings, Lu Lu carefully drew his sleeves over them, afraid someone might see and be frightened.

He didn’t fear hardship or toil — only the hunger and pain of being beaten. If he could live in peace, that would be enough.

Outside, faint voices murmured beyond the door. He couldn’t make out the words. Soon after, the latch gave a soft creak — someone was entering.

The footsteps were lighter, not those of the tall man who had carried him earlier. Lu Lu straightened his back, sitting motionless at the bed’s edge.

It was the Jiang family’s young man, carrying a bowl brimming with food. Smiling brightly, he greeted him, “Brother Shen was worried you might be hungry, so he asked me to bring you this. My name’s Jiang Huai — you can just call me Huai.”

The boy’s cheerful tone eased Lu Lu’s nerves a little. Slowly, he lifted the red veil. Traditionally, it was improper for a ge’er to remove his veil before the husband did, but since the visitor was another ge’er, there was no taboo.

Jiang Huai stared at his delicately rouged face for a moment, then couldn’t help but exclaim, “Brother Shen’s lucky! You’re truly beautiful.”

Lu Lu’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Aside from his two late fathers, no one had ever complimented his appearance before. This was the first time someone had called him beautiful.

Blushing, he murmured a shy “thank you.”

Before coming, Jiang’s mother had reminded him that the new bride was timid, and that he should leave quickly after delivering the meal. So he set down the bowl and utensils on the bedside table and turned to go.

As he closed the door, he added warmly, “I’ll come back later to collect the bowl. Take your time eating — if it’s not enough, I’ll bring you more.”

The bowl was piled high with food: golden meat cakes, braised red pork, tender stewed chicken glistening in its sauce, and spicy stir-fried giblets — each dish generously portioned atop the rice.

Just the sight made Lu Lu’s mouth water.

In the countryside, it was customary for a ge’er’s family to prepare a pot of noodle-dumpling soup on the wedding day for those who came to help. Wealthier families added a few slices of meat; poorer ones cracked in an egg or two.

That morning, his stepfather had ordered him to cook the soup. He had dared to add an extra egg — and for that, he’d been scolded and denied even a single bite.

The journey from Shiqiao Village to Shuitang took nearly two hours by mule cart. Having eaten nothing all day, his stomach now growled at the aroma of the steaming dishes before him.

He hesitated only a moment before picking up the bowl and chopsticks. Tentatively, he tasted a piece of meat, then, overcome by hunger, began to eat in earnest.

The meat cakes were savory and tender, the braised pork rich yet not greasy, the stewed chicken crispy-skinned and melt-in-mouth, the giblets spicy and fragrant. The rice beneath had soaked up the juices, each grain glistening with flavor.

He had never eaten anything so delicious. By the time he looked down again, the bowl was empty. When Jiang Huai returned to collect it, Lu Lu felt almost embarrassed, worried the other might think him greedy.

Night deepened. The feast ended, and the guests dispersed. A few rowdy men tried to tease the newlyweds, but Shen Ying drove them all away.

When the noise outside finally faded, the door to the bridal chamber opened softly.

Knowing who it must be, Lu Lu’s heart began to race. He tightened his grip on the fabric at his sides.

At the doorway stood Shen Ying. He glanced around the room, then closed the door behind him and stepped forward. His tall shadow loomed before Lu Lu, stopping right in front of the bed.

[Author’s Note]
A brand-new story begins!

1v1 sweet slice-of-life farming romance — pure devotion, gentle hearts, and daily warmth~