After the Sweet Little Husband Got Remarried - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Standing knee-deep in the water field, Shen Ying rinsed his hands and walked over, using the sweat towel draped around his neck to wipe his face.
“In weather this hot, why didn’t you stay home and rest? I’ll be done soon and head back,” he said.

Lu Lu stood under the shade of a tree at the edge of the paddy field, holding a bowl of freshly steamed, still-warm buns. Afraid they would turn cold and lose their flavor, he had covered the top with a layer of steaming cloth before leaving the house.

Under the tree was a large flat stone perfect for sitting. Shen Ying patted away the dust on its surface and gestured for Lu Lu to sit down.

Lu Lu set the rough porcelain bowl on the stone, lifted the steaming cloth, and said softly, “I made some buns this morning. I thought you might be hungry, so I brought a few for you to try.”

The buns inside were plump with thin skins, still steaming hot. Shen Ying took the one on top and bit into it, glancing at the filling. “Pickled mustard greens and pork?”

Lu Lu nodded. “There’s also leek and egg, and tofu with minced pork.”

Shen Ying finished the first bun in two bites, then picked up another with tofu and meat filling, taking a large mouthful. “This one’s delicious too. What made you think of making so many today?”

“I went with Huai-ge’er to buy meat this morning,” Lu Lu explained. “I wanted to send some over to their family later. Since there was enough filling, I just made a big batch together.”

He spoke while quietly watching Shen Ying’s expression, worried that his husband might think he had spent too much. To reassure him, he even explained what kind of meat he had bought and how many copper coins it had cost.

Shen Ying, chewing on a leek and egg bun, said between bites, “You can decide these things yourself. I told you—buy whatever you want, don’t hold back. If you’re sending some to Huai-ge’er’s family, pack a few more of the mustard green ones. Auntie and Uncle Dashan both love those.”

Hearing that, Lu Lu let out a subtle breath of relief and nodded with a faint smile.

A light breeze swept across the rice paddies, bringing with it a hint of coolness as the tender green seedlings swayed gently with the wind.

After finishing the buns, Shen Ying uncapped the bamboo tube he had brought, tipped his head back, and drank a mouthful of water. From the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of sweat beading and sliding down his husband’s forehead. Without thinking, he reached out to wipe it away.

Lu Lu froze at the sudden gesture. His first instinct was to retreat, but his body refused to move, as if locked in place, letting Shen Ying’s calloused hand brush gently against his brow.

Across the paddy, in the Shen family’s field, Feng Xianglian had stormed off earlier after throwing down the seedlings. Not long after, Shen Wenlu followed her back as well.

Their daughter, Shen Sui, stayed behind, crouched at the edge of the field, picking at the roots of the grass.

Whenever Feng Xianglian lost her temper, she would always take it out on the girl—pinching her, hitting her, sometimes even refusing to give her food.

Lu Lu, worried that someone might see him and Shen Ying together, shifted uncomfortably. When he turned his head, he caught sight of Shen Sui crouched nearby.

Two buns still remained in the bowl. Shen Ying followed his gaze and noticed the girl as well. Not knowing the two had met before, he said, “That’s Sui-jie’er, my stepsister—my stepmother’s daughter. Wait here for me; I’ll bring her a couple of buns.”

Lu Lu nodded and stayed where he was as Shen Ying took the buns and walked over. From under the tree, he watched from afar.

When Shen Sui saw her brother approaching, she immediately stood up, wiping her hands nervously on her clothes before accepting the buns with both hands. Shen Ying said something to her that Lu Lu couldn’t hear. Her eyes reddened, and she began to eat the buns hungrily, almost desperately.

Once Shen Ying returned to his work in the field, Lu Lu went back home, picked up more buns, and brought them over to the Jiang family. Jiang Dashan and the others were still busy transplanting rice seedlings, while Du Qinghe was in the kitchen cooking. After handing the buns to Huai-ge’er, Lu Lu quietly took his leave.

Over the next four or five days, the rice planting came to an end. Shen Ying managed to finish planting his two plots in less than two days, and afterward, he spent another couple of days helping the Jiang family.

While Shen Ying was out working in the fields, Lu Lu wasn’t idle either. Together with Huai-ge’er, he went up the mountain to dig bamboo shoots.

It was the best season for them—tender and crisp, perfect for stir-fries or soups. The mountain in front of the village was full of mao bamboo and ku bamboo. Just peeling all the shoots took Lu Lu half a day.

There were far too many for just the two of them to eat, so Lu Lu sliced the extras in half and blanched them to remove their bitterness. Since the weather had been sunny these past few days, he laid them out on bamboo sieves and set them on the mud wall to dry.

He wove several bamboo sieves for the task, using them not just for bamboo shoots but also for drying wild vegetables—like mustard greens, goosefoot, and dandelion—all of which only grew in the mountains during this season.

Of all of them, the dried bamboo shoots had the richest flavor. In winter, when the snow fell, they could be soaked in warm water and cooked with pork belly to make a pot of braised bamboo shoot stew—fragrant, savory, and full of warmth. The dried wild greens could be stir-fried with chili and sliced meat, perfect as a side dish.

If they had a clay jar or an earthen pot, they could even pickle the bamboo shoots.

Tender white shoots could be cut into chunks or slices, mixed with salt, and submerged in water. After fermenting for about a month, they’d turn into tangy, aromatic pickled shoots—excellent for making fish soup.

Unfortunately, they had neither a jar nor a pot, so Lu Lu had to let the idea go.

When the rice transplanting was done, the next morning Jiang Dashan and Jiang Song came over to help till the vegetable plot. The three men finished the work in just one day, neatly raising ridges and digging two drainage ditches, turning the patch into a proper vegetable bed.

Since Shen Ying had helped them with the transplanting, the Jiang family invited them both for dinner that evening as thanks.

The moment Lu Lu stepped into their courtyard, the savory aroma of chicken soup wafted out from the kitchen. Huai-ge’er was feeding the cow and sheep with bamboo husks beside the shed. Spotting them, he grinned and called out, “Sister-in-law!”

That day when Lu Lu delivered buns, he had only stood briefly by the door, never going inside. This was his first time stepping fully into the Jiang household.

The Jiang family was large. Aside from the three main tiled rooms, there were two side wings and a storage shed, with a stable and livestock pen in front. The main gate opened to the east.

As soon as they entered, two huge dogs bounded toward them—one yellow with a white face, the other entirely black.

They clearly recognized Shen Ying, wagging their tails before trotting up to sniff Lu Lu curiously. Lu Lu froze on the spot, having never been so close to such large dogs before.

Seeing this, Shen Ying chuckled softly. “Don’t be afraid—they’re just sniffing you.” He crouched down, patting their heads. “This is Lu-ge’er, don’t scare him.”

The dogs seemed to understand and, after a final sniff, padded away. Just then, Jiang Song came out from the hall, bow in hand, calling out, “Huangdou, Heidou, come here!”

Huai-ge’er echoed from the shed, “Huangdou, Heidou, over here!”

Lu Lu realized then—the yellow one was called Huangdou, the black one Heidou.

Jiang Song herded the dogs back into their pen and, seeing Shen Ying carrying something, said with a grin, “What’s all this politeness? We invited you for a meal, not for you to bring gifts.”

The wild rabbit they’d caught on the mountain had been too injured to keep alive, so the next day Shen Ying had butchered it. Lu Lu marinated the meat with salt and Sichuan pepper, then hung it from the beam to make dried rabbit meat.

“This was made by Lu-ge’er,” Shen Ying said, glancing at his husband. “He said it’s his first try and wasn’t sure how it turned out, so we brought some for everyone to taste.”

At the affectionate “Lu-ge’er,” Jiang Song couldn’t help but smirk—so marriage really did soften a man.

Hearing them, Huai-ge’er dropped the bamboo basket and came over eagerly. “You made this, Sister-in-law? Then I have to try some!”

Jiang Song teased, “You just want an excuse to eat.”

Huai-ge’er only huffed and ignored him, tugging Lu Lu’s sleeve. “Come on, Sister-in-law, let’s go.”

Jiang Song stayed to repair hunting bows, calling Shen Ying over to help, while Lu Lu followed Huai-ge’er into the kitchen.

Inside, Jiang Dashan was adding firewood behind the stove with little Jiang Qiu perched in his arms. Mother Lin Chunlan and daughter-in-law Du Qinghe were busy over the pots.

The chicken simmered in a clay pot, bubbling fragrantly, while the iron wok sizzled with frying fish, oil popping and crackling—filling the kitchen with warm, homey scents.

When they came in, Lin Chunlan turned from the stove, smiling. “Lu-ge’er, you’re here?”

It was Lu Lu’s first time meeting the whole Jiang family. A little shy, he kept his hands together and greeted politely, “Auntie, Uncle Dashan, Sister-in-law.”

The couple both responded warmly, and Du Qinghe nodded with a gentle smile, then turned to her toddler. “Qiu’er, greet your little aunt.”

Jiang Qiu, only three years old, with bright dark eyes, chirped sweetly, “Hello, little auntie.”

Lu Lu smiled and replied softly, “Hello.”

Huai-ge’er pinched Qiu’er’s round cheek, laughing. “Our little Qiu’er’s so good today.”

“Of course,” Lin Chunlan said, flipping the fish. “He’s getting a big chicken drumstick from his grandma later.”

The boy repeated happily, “Chicken drumstick! Qiu’er likes chicken drumsticks!”

Du Qinghe laughed at the pair.

Amid laughter and chatter, Huai-ge’er handed the rabbit meat to his mother. “By the way, Ma, this is from Shen Ying-ge and Sister-in-law—it’s homemade, Sister-in-law made it himself.”

“Dried rabbit meat?” Lin Chunlan took it without hesitation, lifted it to her nose, and smiled approvingly. “Mmm, smells wonderful. Nicely done.”

Lu Lu blushed at the praise, smiling shyly. “It’s my first time trying, I wasn’t sure how it’d turn out.”

“Nonsense,” Lin Chunlan said warmly. “For a first try, it’s already excellent—you’ll only get better.”

She handed the meat to her daughter-in-law. “Qinghe, rinse and chop it up. Once the fish is done, put a steamer rack in and warm it through.”

Lu Lu quickly rolled up his sleeves. “I can do it.”

“No need, let your sister-in-law handle it. You rest a bit.” Lin Chunlan turned toward Huai-ge’er. “Huai-ge’er, take your Sister-in-law and Qiu’er outside to get some air. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

“Okay!” Huai-ge’er replied at once—cooking wasn’t his thing anyway. He scooped up Qiu’er and led Lu Lu out into the courtyard.

Under the big tree outside, the two men were still fixing their bows, fingers brushing along the taut cowhide strings.

“That should do it,” Jiang Song said, testing the pull. Then, noticing Shen Ying’s gaze drifting toward Lu Lu playing with the child, he nudged him with a grin. “What’s this? Thinking of having one yourself?”

Shen Ying smiled faintly, lowering his eyes. “It’s still early. No rush.”

His husband was still too thin, too delicate—he needed to grow stronger first. Such things couldn’t be forced.

Just then, Du Qinghe emerged carrying a plate of golden fish. “Dinner’s ready!” she called.

As she passed the courtyard, she glanced at Lu Lu playing with Qiu’er. “Qiu’er, go wash your hands.”

The little boy pouted, wanting to keep playing. Lu Lu held up a grasshopper he had woven from blades of grass and said, “After dinner, I’ll give you this grasshopper, and then we’ll play again, okay?”

Qiu’er nodded obediently.

Huai-ge’er took his hand. “Come on, Uncle will help you wash.”

By the time all the dishes were set on the table, the western sky had already swallowed the sunset, leaving only a faint blush over the mountains.

Inside the hall, the family gathered around the table brimming with dishes.

The chicken soup gleamed golden, rich and fragrant. The fish was perfectly seared, coated in savory sauce, tender and silky within. The thinly sliced cured pork shimmered with fat, the steamed dried rabbit meat released a mouthwatering aroma, and there were a few plates of simply stir-fried greens for balance.

Lin Chunlan lifted her chopsticks. “Let’s eat.”

Everyone began to move their chopsticks. She picked up a drumstick first and placed it in little Qiu’er’s bowl. “This one’s for our Qiu’er.”

The boy’s round eyes locked on the chicken leg, and at his mother’s reminder, he grinned and mumbled through a mouthful, “Thank you, Grandma!”

Lin Chunlan chuckled, then took the other drumstick and placed it in front of Lu Lu. “And this one’s for Lu-ge’er.”

Lu Lu blinked, surprised. He hadn’t expected her to offer it to him, and for a moment he was flustered. “Oh, no, Auntie, you should have it.”

He tried to put it back, but she waved a hand firmly. “It’s for you. Don’t be polite.”

Du Qinghe added with a laugh, “When I was newly married, I got one too. Go on and eat.”

Lu Lu still hesitated—until little Qiu’er piped up, “Little auntie, eat it! Chicken drumstick is really tasty!”

“Go on,” Shen Ying said quietly beside him.

Finally, Lu Lu lowered his head and took a small bite. It had been so long since he’d eaten chicken—since before his father passed away—that he had almost forgotten the taste.

Seeing him eat, Lin Chunlan smiled and asked, “Is it good?”

Lu Lu’s eyes shimmered faintly as he nodded. “It’s delicious. Thank you, Auntie.”