Fu Ruyi left Pinghe Village carrying an empty vegetable basket. Both the Lou and Wang families were bustling with activity—one preparing to buy meat and cook a meal for their honored guests, the other locking up and heading out to avoid being cornered at their doorstep. The Wang family planned to simply avoid meeting them altogether.
Fu Ruyi crossed the bridge back to her village and arrived home to find her elder brothers, brother-in-law, and nephews from both sides of the family all present—a whole crowd of people who turned to look at her in unison the moment she walked in.
“What’s with those looks?” Fu Ruyi suddenly felt three cun shorter, though she couldn’t say why.
Her eldest brother, Fu Changgui, shook his head helplessly. “We’ve been waiting for you. Come on, let’s go see for ourselves this man who’s got you so completely dazzled.”
“I just told you not to treat him too well, and the next thing I know you’re rushing off with vegetables to fawn over him.” Fu Yuan shook his head in frustration.
“Hey! You lot have done plenty of fawning yourselves. I wonder who sent holiday gifts year after year to court a wife—three years straight, and only after throwing in a whole fat pig did she finally say yes.” Fu Ruyi dropped her basket and strolled with her hands behind her back. She walked up to the beaming man and asked, “Am I right, Second Brother-in-law?”
“I didn’t provoke you—don’t come after me.” Second Brother-in-law was afraid of her sharp tongue.
“I’m speaking up for you! Back in the day when you came to the Fu family to curry favor, not a single man in this household said a good word for you.” Fu Ruyi shot her brothers a sideways glare.
Second Brother Cao Xin pointed at her. “Keep stirring up trouble, and we’re not going.”
“Please, my dear and honored brothers, this way, if you would.” Fu Ruyi immediately dropped her attitude and gestured invitingly with great deference.
Even the always-serious Fu Changgui couldn’t help but laugh. He took the lead and walked out, and as he passed Fu Ruyi, he curled a finger and tapped the top of her head.
Cao Xin and Fu Yuan followed, then Second Brother-in-law walked out together with Father Fu.
Fu Ruyi jogged to catch up with her father and brothers.
Out of the village, across the bridge, into Pinghe Village.
Beneath the big tree at the village entrance, Lou Zhaoshui was waiting. When he spotted Fu Ruyi’s figure, he walked forward to meet them.
“Father, brothers—it’s him,” Fu Ruyi said in a low voice.
“Tall, with a big frame—a man with real strength.” Father Fu nodded in satisfaction.
“He’s got more presence than Wang Erlang, that’s for sure. Presentable.” Cao Xin studied the approaching figure, then said with complicated feelings, “Men can look like this?”
“Not bad. She didn’t pick wrong.” No matter how closely Fu Yuan scrutinized him, he couldn’t find a single flaw.
The distance between the two groups closed rapidly. Lou Zhaoshui didn’t dare look at Fu Ruyi. Suppressing his nervousness, he stepped forward respectfully before Father Fu. “Uncle Fu, I’m sorry to trouble you to make the trip.”
Father Fu glanced at his youngest daughter and said, “It’s just across the bridge—no trouble at all.”
“This is my eldest brother.” Fu Ruyi introduced him.
“Eldest Brother.” Lou Zhaoshui greeted him.
Fu Changgui nodded without saying anything.
“This is my second brother.” Fu Ruyi continued, “This is my second sister’s husband, and the youngest one here is my third brother.”
Lou Zhaoshui greeted each of them in turn.
Fu Yuan looked at Lou Zhaoshui’s face, then touched his own, and said with displeasure, “Let’s go.”
A group of tall, strapping men made their way through Pinghe Village. The villagers who saw them understood the situation—the Fu family approved of the match, and this outsider had built connections in the area.
Arriving at the Lou household, Father Lou set down the meat he was chopping and came forward to greet them. Father Fu exchanged pleasantries with him while the rest surveyed the Lou family’s home.
A few bare thatched cottages stood there, with no chicken coops or pigpens in front, and no cattle or donkey sheds behind. The fence serving as the courtyard wall was sparsely built, and the bare little yard held nothing but a large water vat.
“Where is your land? Let’s go take a look right away. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can head back. We’ve already got meals prepared at home, so don’t go to any trouble,” Father Fu said.
“That won’t do—you must stay for a meal,” Father Lou said with emotion. “I may not understand Han customs, but I know what’s right. Given the relationship between our two families, there’s no way you can leave.”
Father Fu glanced at the young pair and stopped standing on ceremony. “Then we’ll head out once you’ve finished your work.”
Father Lou went to chop up the remaining leg of lamb, washed his hands, and led the Fu family out.
Little Blondie and Que’er followed along, circling around Fu Ruyi from left and right.
“How much land do you have? How many mu of wheat have you planted?” Father Fu inquired.
Father Lou rubbed his hands together, worried that his poor command of Chinese wouldn’t get the point across. He called his son and grandson before him, and as though giving a statement, the three of them, grandfather, son, and grandson, took turns explaining their family’s situation in both Chinese and Xianbei.
Only then did the Fu family learn that the Lou family had moved to Pinghe Village because of the eldest son in the army. Lou Dalang was a common soldier, among the first batch to receive land. His household registration, fields, and homestead all fell under Pinghe Village, so when the Lou family moved, they settled there. As for the second son of the Lou family, he served as a guard at the estate of a military commander, as his retainer. He was attached to the commander, and the fields assigned to him also belonged to the commander. Now the Lou family had one hundred and eighty mu of open fields and sixty mu of mulberry fields, but only a little over forty mu were planted with wheat—the rest lay fallow.
Fu Changgui did some mental arithmetic. A strong adult male needed the grain yield of seven mu a year, a woman needed five mu, and a child’s rations came to about four mu. After deducting the grain tax, the wheat the Lou family planted couldn’t even feed the whole household.
“Don’t you raise any cattle or sheep?” Fu Changgui asked Lou Zhaoshui.
“Last year, since we weren’t familiar with the climate here, we didn’t dare rush into buying livestock. We plan to raise some this year,” Lou Zhaoshui replied.
Fu Changgui nodded.
“This wheat field is ours—it’s under my eldest son’s name. Before we came, it was rented out to the villagers to farm. After we took it back, we planted it all with wheat.” Father Lou gestured at the wheat field before them.
“This plot is decent—good terrain, won’t get flooded,” Father Fu said.
“The wheat isn’t growing well—it’s turning yellow.” Father Lou looked at Father Fu as if begging for help. Among the adjoining wheat fields, his was the worst.
“Not enough fertility. It was probably continuously cropped by the villagers who rented it. Once you harvest the wheat in early summer, leave this land completely fallow for a year to restore the soil,” Father Fu said.
Father Lou took note and led the Fu family to look at the newly allotted wasteland.
The newly allotted wasteland was far from the village—the whole group was sweating by the time they arrived. The hundred-plus mu of land hugged the northwest side of Mount Beimang, bordering Ling Village at the foot of the mountain.
Father Lou explained the situation of the land: being next to the mountain, there were many tree roots in the soil, making reclamation very laborious. The weeds couldn’t be eliminated either—they’d burned them twice and they still grew back.
“If this land is used for crops, it’ll just be feeding the rats, rabbits, boars, and birds from the mountain.” Fu Yuan shook his head. “The location of this land is bad.”
“I know how to hunt. If they dare come down the mountain, they’ll die by my hand,” Lou Zhaoshui said.
“Then you’ll need to stay here and keep watch—with too few people, you won’t be able to guard it all.” Cao Xin picked up the thread. “Just plant hemp. The creatures in the mountains don’t eat hemp.”
“You can also use it to plant ginger and Sichuan pepper trees—both have strong smells that wild animals don’t like either,” Fu Ruyi said. “Planting Chinese tallow trees works too.”
“Put the Sichuan pepper plot next to the hemp field, and on this side of the Sichuan pepper plot you can plant beans or wheat. That high ground over there can be used for non-glutinous broomcorn millet. It doesn’t tolerate waterlogging, so it can’t be planted on low ground.” Father Fu looked around, getting a sense of the layout, then instructed: “Farming isn’t hard. For most fields, just see what others plant and plant the same. But remember two things: beans and hemp can’t be planted next to each other—they hinder one another. And neither beans nor hemp should be grown on the same plot year after year. If this plot grows beans this year, next year it must grow something else.”
Father Lou noted everything down one by one, and when Father Fu finished, he repeated it back to ask if he’d gotten it right.
“Can I plant alfalfa in the fields? If I want to keep sheep and graze them…” Lou Zhaoshui asked tentatively. “Our neighbor, Neighborhood Head Wang, said you can’t use farmland for growing grass.”
“Mulberry fields can, but open fields can’t.” Fu Changgui spoke up.
“He said mulberry fields can’t either,” Lou Zhaoshui said, deflated.
“My eldest brother is also a neighborhood head—if he says it’s fine, then it’s fine,” Fu Ruyi said.
Fu Changgui knew exactly what was going on. This business about not being able to plant grass in mulberry fields—Old Wang was deliberately making things difficult for the Lou family.
“Just plant it. If he won’t let you, I’ll go talk to him myself,” Fu Changgui said.
Lou Zhaoshui broke into a smile. If he could grow pasture and raise sheep, then even if he never learned to farm, he could still support his family.
The Fu brothers were so struck by the radiance on his face that they all looked away. How could a man be this handsome? It made people not want to stand next to him.
“A few of these fields can be planted with crops this year. Plant some glutinous broomcorn millet, and by autumn you’ll have something in the grain store. If you don’t know how to plant, just plow the fields first, and once we’re done with our current work, we’ll bring the seed drill and help you sow.” Fu Yuan genuinely wanted to help this family of fools.
Lou Zhaoshui was silent for a moment, then thanked him gratefully.
Fu Yuan glanced at his younger sister, saying meaningfully: “You’re thanking the wrong person.”
Lou Zhaoshui looked at Fu Ruyi and thanked her from the bottom of his heart.
Fu Ruyi called him silly. “You’re thanking too early. Thank us after the crops are in the ground.”
Lou Zhaoshui shook his head. The kindness her family had shown his was worth thanking a thousand times over.
“It’s getting late—the meal at home should be just about ready. Let’s go back and eat,” Father Lou said.
Father Fu nodded, and the group turned back.
Over a delicious meal of mutton at the Lou house, Father Fu explained the proper season for planting ginger, which households sold Sichuan pepper saplings, and everything he had learned about farming.
The meal lasted more than a shichen, and everything that needed to be said was said before the Fu family finally left.
The Lou family walked them all the way out of the village before stopping.
Fu Ruyi walked a few steps, then stopped and looked back at Lou Zhaoshui, asking with a red face: “Don’t you want to walk me across the bridge?”
The Fu family immediately quickened their pace and hurried off.
The Lou family chuckled and, with unspoken understanding, turned back toward the village.
In just a moment, only the two of them remained where they stood. Lou Zhaoshui’s gaze drifted uncertainly for a few moments before finally, as if conceding, settling on her face, and he walked toward her.
“It’s not even nighttime,” he muttered.
“I want you to walk me at night, and I want you to walk me during the day too,” Fu Ruyi said smugly, walking backward.
Lou Zhaoshui suddenly went mute, not daring to look at her again.
“You’re really handsome.” Fu Ruyi sighed in admiration.
“A face may look good, but it isn’t much practical use—not worth much.” Lou Zhaoshui glanced at her. What she possessed was far more precious than a pretty face.
“I like it.”
“Then look.” Lou Zhaoshui stopped in his tracks. “Look. Look all you want, and go back when you’ve had enough.”
Fu Ruyi was suddenly overjoyed. She stepped closer and asked, “Are you falling for me?”
Lou Zhaoshui said nothing.
“Do you remember the old granny who stood next to me the day we met? If it weren’t for her playing matchmaker for me and Wang Erlang, I never would have met you. She’s our matchmaker. I’ve asked her to come tomorrow and make the match for us.” Fu Ruyi let the news slip.
“That fast?” Lou Zhaoshui asked instinctively.
Fu Ruyi took a step back to observe him. She gave him an out: “I’m the one who’s impatient. If you think it’s too soon, you can refuse her. But in a few days, I’ll have her come to your door again.”
Lou Zhaoshui looked straight at her. “Do you only like this face of mine?”
“You’re unhappy?” Fu Ruyi probed. “I’ve made my feelings so obvious. Why are you still uncertain about my intentions?”
Right—she’d made it painfully obvious. She liked his face, and Lou Zhaoshui knew it all too well. Why was he unhappy? She didn’t understand him; she’d only taken a liking to his face, and right now, that face was the only thing he had to offer.
“Don’t you like it? Or are you afraid of falling for me?” Fu Ruyi realized the answer was the latter, and delight swiftly sprouted within her, sweeping over her entire being. She approached him with light, quick steps, stopping just two cun from him. Staring into his flickering blue eyes, she reminded him smugly, “Great beauty, you’re afraid of falling for me.”