After the crucian carp Wen Xi had caught spent four days in the basin and turned belly-up, as Chen Lanfang was pondering how to cook it, he mustered his courage and said, "Mom, I'd like crucian carp and tofu soup."
Tofu wasn't like other vegetables—if you wanted it, you had to buy it from the village tofu maker. A single block cost as much as six copper coins, so Wen Xi felt a little anxious as he said it.
"You want crucian carp and tofu soup? Sure." Chen Lanfang didn't think it was a big deal at all, and called out the door, "Xiao Jin, go buy a few blocks of tofu from the tofu maker's house. We're going to stew crucian carp soup."
He Jin answered, "Alright, I'll go right now."
Chen Lanfang went back inside, got some copper coins, and handed them to him. "There are a lot of people in the family, so remember to buy a few extra blocks. If there's leftover from the soup, we can mix it or stir-fry it. And try to haggle with your Aunt Zhang…"
Seeing He Jin grinning at her the whole time, Chen Lanfang lightly smacked her own forehead. "Xi ge'er has been hovering around me these past few days, so I can't help chattering at everyone I see. A sly one like you doesn't need my reminders. Off you go."
He Jin deliberately complained, "So Xi ge'er needs reminders but I don't? Mom, you really do play favorites."
Chen Lanfang shook her head and sighed. "Xiao Xi, look at your Jin gege—such a sharp tongue. Aren't you afraid it'll snap?"
Wen Xi could tell they were teasing each other, and smiled softly. "Mom isn't playing favorites. Jin gege is good too."
He Jin teased him, "So it's just me and Mom who are good? Your eldest sister-in-law isn't?"
Wen Xi quickly added, "Eldest sister-in-law is good too. Everyone in the family is good."
That silly look of his was, at times, a rather distinctive kind of adorable. He Jin was amused by him and went off happily to Aunt Zhang's to buy tofu.
Aunt Zhang was the only tofu maker in the village. Every day her husband carried a shoulder pole, selling tofu either in the nearby villages or in town. It was hard work, but he earned quite a bit by the end of each day.
When He Jin arrived, several village neighbors were also there buying tofu, and among them was an old acquaintance of their family—Wen Liu.
Running into that person first thing in the morning—He Jin thought to himself what bad luck, but showed no disgust on his face.
Aunt Zhang was on good terms with Chen Lanfang, and greeted him warmly, "Xiao Jin, buying tofu today too?"
He Jin's expression was as usual, smiling as he said, "My third brother's husband woke up this morning saying he wanted crucian carp and tofu soup, so my mother-in-law sent me off to buy tofu."
Whether it was a complaint or a boast, everyone could tell. Seeing him all smiles, a few of the old ladies buying tofu said, "Your family really treats this new husband of yours impeccably."
"That's right. A few days ago you went to the Zhao family to stand up for him, and today you're eagerly spending money to buy him tofu. This little husband is truly blessed."
"Not only that—I saw Lanfang the other day taking her son and the new husband to town, saying she was going to buy him a bolt of cloth for clothes. Attentive in every way—you'd say she were his own mother."
He Jin had Aunt Zhang wrap up a few blocks of tofu for him, and listening to their chatter, he said with a smile, "It's heaven's blessing that our family married such a lucky husband. Since he married in, not only has my third brother's illness gotten better, but my father-in-law has taken on plenty more work too. Such a little lucky star—do you think my mother-in-law could treat him badly?"
"Looking at it that way, this child really is blessed. No wonder your in-laws are so fond of him."
"Xiao Xi is hardworking and polite, always calling me sister-in-law this and brother that. Never mind my in-laws—even my eldest sister-in-law and I are fond of him." With so many people watching, He Jin naturally wanted to praise Wen Xi to his heart's content, so everyone would know their family held no resentment whatsoever about the substitution marriage, and that they were genuinely fond of Wen Xi.
Someone glanced at Wen Liu and said with a snicker behind a hand, "What good does it do if only you all like him? He's your third brother's husband—it's your third brother who has to like him."
He Jin had been worrying about how to steer the conversation toward Yan Feng'an, and here someone had handed him the perfect opening: "Such a well-behaved boy—how could my third brother not like him? Since Xiao Xi married into our family, he's cared for my third brother diligently every day without a word of complaint. With such devotion and loyalty, how could my third brother not be grateful? You have no idea how protective he is of his new husband at home. Aiyo, newlyweds really are different—so lovey-dovey, it's enough to make a person die of envy."
The villagers, wanting to keep his business, each had Aunt Zhang knock a coin off the price of their tofu. He Jin paid cheerfully, then added, "Don't go spreading what I said, now. The young couple are thin-skinned—if they found out I was teasing about them in public, who knows how embarrassed they'd be. I'm off! We'll chat next time we meet."
Everyone present had a big mouth—of course word would get out. But that was exactly what he wanted: the whole village needed to know how harmonious their family was now.
From beginning to end, He Jin had treated Wen Liu as if he were invisible, never once giving him a proper look.
Wen Liu was no fool. He knew He Jin was deliberately snubbing him, and that those words had been said specifically for his ears.
A man who was fawned over wherever he went, he felt genuinely uncomfortable right now. But he knew everyone around was sneaking glances at him, hoping to see him make a fool of himself—at a moment like this, he absolutely would not show any weakness.
He maintained that composure the whole way home, and only after he got back did the fire in his heart finally erupt.
Seeing him slam the tofu down on the cutting board in a huff, Li Qiaozhen snapped, "Are you trying to get yourself killed? The tofu's soft as anything—how can you just throw it down like that?"
Sure enough, when the cloth was lifted, the delicate tofu had already broken into several pieces.
Li Qiaozhen frowned. "What's got you so worked up? Who provoked you?"
Wen Liu wiped his tears, aggrieved. "Who else but Wen Xi?"
"What, he went to buy tofu too?"
"If only it were him."
With Wen Xi's meek, quail-like temperament, he wouldn't dare be snide to his face in front of all those people—he wouldn't even speak harshly to Yan Feng'an's eldest sister-in-law. Only that He Jin, with that sharp, hateful tongue.
Back when Wen Liu was seeing Yan Feng'an, He Jin had already looked at him with displeasure, and after the engagement, whenever they crossed paths on the road, He Jin never gave him a pleasant face. Wen Liu had been thinking that once he married into the Yan family, he could whisper in Yan Feng'an's ear at night and drive a wedge between him and the second brother—whether it came to splitting the household or egging Yan Erlang into divorcing He Jin, anything would do. He simply didn't want to live under the same roof as someone like that.
But who could have known Yan Feng'an would be so useless—just going up the mountain to shoot a wild goose, and he ended up falling into that sorry state.
If he'd stayed a fool his whole life, fine. But the moment Wen Xi married in, his brain healed. Wasn't that deliberately going against him?
Wen Liu fumed inwardly and said sourly, "If I'd known Yan Feng'an would recover this quickly, I should have married into that family myself."
"We're not immortals—how could we know when he'll get better? If I'd known, I never would have married Wen Xi into that family. Such a fine household, wasted on that little cheap hussy." Li Qiaozhen felt sour inside too. Whether Yan Feng'an recovered or not didn't really matter to her—she simply couldn't stand to see Wen Xi live a good life.
These words filled Wen Liu with even more regret. Back then, he had gone to great lengths to get close to Yan Feng'an, and after much effort had finally won the man over and made him fall for him—only to end up making it all for Wen Xi's benefit.
Wen Xi wasn't as pretty as him, and had a timid personality. Yan Feng'an had always despised him. How could he have fallen for him so quickly, in such a short time?
The more Wen Liu thought about it, the more something felt wrong. He Jin's words must have been exaggerated. And even if they were true, Yan Feng'an had probably done it deliberately just to spite him.
However learned that man was, he was still just an ordinary mortal. With his marriage ruined like that, how could his heart be completely unruffled?
What one hasn't tasted is always what one craves. Yan Feng'an had gained nothing from him at all, and Wen Liu refused to believe the man could let go of him so easily.
With that thought, another scheme began to form in Wen Liu's mind.
The family had no good impression of Wen Liu, so to avoid spoiling anyone's mood, He Jin hadn't mentioned the chance encounter to them.
During the day, Carpenter Yan took his two sons to work in the neighboring village and wouldn't return until evening.
In the Yan household, good things were always shared by the whole family. After the tofu was bought home, Chen Lanfang rubbed it with salt and set it aside to be prepared at dinnertime.
In the bedroom, Yan Feng'an was about to grind ink and write something. Watching the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone on the desk, Wen Xi's eyes revealed a longing he himself hadn't noticed.
In their dynasty, while women and ge'er could not sit for the imperial examinations, there were no restrictions on studying. As long as a family had money, anyone could attend school.
The other adults in the family went without saying—even Tiezhu attended the village private school. Only Wen Xi and the three-year-old Tao'er were illiterate.
Yan Feng'an keenly sensed his mood. He reached out and beckoned him over, and while grinding the ink, asked, "Can you write your own name?"
Wen Xi glanced at him. Just as Yan Feng'an was beginning to think the question unnecessary, Wen Xi slowly nodded. "I can."
This took Yan Feng'an by surprise. He took out a sheet of xuan paper and casually pressed it down with a paperweight. "Come, write it for me."
Wen Xi shook his head. "My handwriting isn't good. I'd rather not waste your paper."
"Handwriting isn't something achieved overnight. You've never had the chance to practice—of course it wouldn't be good. This paper is for drafts anyway; I'm not afraid of wasting it."
Yan Feng'an dipped the brush in ink and lifted his chin, signaling Wen Xi to take it.
Seeing no hint of mockery on his face, Wen Xi hesitated a moment, then stood beside Yan Feng'an and wrote his name on the xuan paper, stroke by stroke.
Wen Xi was a little nervous, but his hand holding the brush was unexpectedly steady. Though the ink on the strokes wasn't even, the structure was sound—nothing like the crooked scrawls of other beginners.
Yan Feng'an praised him. "That's quite good, actually. Your name has a lot of strokes—it's not easy to write it this well. And you didn't get a single stroke order wrong. That's remarkable. Who taught you?"
Wen Xi shook his head and only said that he often practiced with charcoal, offering no further explanation.
Yan Feng'an wouldn't press on topics Wen Xi didn't want to discuss, and only joked, "How about this—you grind my ink from now on, and I'll teach you to read and write."
Yan Feng'an remembered everything that the person who had previously occupied his body had done to Wen Xi. In his presence, Wen Xi buried his feelings deep, but Yan Feng'an knew it was something he cared about very much.
Wen Xi was an honest soul; whatever Yan Feng'an said, he believed. "But I don't know how to grind ink."
"Grinding ink is easy. Just add some water to the inkstone and rub the ink stick against it."
Wen Xi's face showed hesitation, and Yan Feng'an went on, "This is a good thing, you know. Once you can read, no one will ever be able to use that against you again, and you won't be at a loss when talking to people outside."
He couldn't figure out what Wen Xi was struggling with.
How could Wen Xi not understand the benefits of learning to read? He reached out and pointed outside. "It's just, these next few days I want to learn how to make clothes from Eldest Sister-in-law and the others."
"And I haven't finished your shoes yet either."
With everything piling up, even if he wanted to learn, he simply didn't have the energy to spare.
Yan Feng'an broke into a bright smile. "Oh, I thought it was something serious. How about this—you go help Eldest Sister-in-law and the others first, and we'll talk once the clothes are done. My parents got me a long leave from the academy; I'm not going back until spring next year. There's plenty of time. Once you're free, I'll teach you at a leisurely pace."
"Alright." Wen Xi's heart eased, and he couldn't help smiling a little.
At dusk, when the tired birds returned to their nests, Yan Shichang came home with his two sons.
The men worked hard earning a living outside, so Chen Lanfang put extra effort into dinner. Besides crucian carp and tofu soup, she made two more meat dishes and one vegetable dish, each portion generous.
Dinner time every day was the moment Wen Xi looked forward to most. At the table, the whole family sat gathered together. The eldest and second brothers, both chatterboxes, never stopped recounting amusing things they'd encountered outside even while eating. Eldest Sister-in-law Jin ge'er picked food for the children while chiming in with her husband. The two elders smiled warmly and occasionally added a remark or two. Wen Xi, emboldened, picked up an extra piece of tofu, and no one thought he ate too much. Though Yan Feng'an was a scholar, he wasn't pedantic at the table about that "no talking while eating" nonsense; most of the time, like Wen Xi, he simply listened quietly and rarely joined in.
The tofu had soaked up the fish broth, becoming fresh and tender, tasting exactly as Wen Xi remembered. After craving it for so many years, he had finally eaten the crucian carp and tofu soup he'd never stopped longing for. Wen Xi's eyes grew hot, and he wished he could cross all those long years and go back to comfort that child who had been scolded and driven out of the house by his parents just for wanting a sip of fish soup.
Just as he was feeling a little sad, more meat appeared in his bowl. He didn't need to look to know who had put it there.
Wen Xi glanced up quietly. Yan Feng'an had just picked himself several more helpings of stir-fried pork with wood ear mushrooms—presumably he liked the dish, so he'd served some to Wen Xi as well.
After dinner there was a good deal of cleaning up, and when it grew late, everyone retired to their rooms. Just as Wen Xi closed his eyes and was drifting off to sleep, Yan Feng'an suddenly said, "Ah, I remember now—it was me who taught you to write your name."