He grasped her hand. “Between husband and wife, there’s no need to say thanks.”
His palm was warm, rough with calluses, but steady and reassuring.
They walked home together and pushed the door open. The kerosene lamp hadn’t been lit yet, and the room was completely dark. Lu Zhanye felt around, found the matches, struck one with a snap, and lit the wick.
A soft yellow glow spread outward, illuminating the small new bedroom.
Lin Wan suddenly felt a bit nervous. Even though they had already registered their marriage and were legally husband and wife, tonight… was their true wedding night.
Lu Zhanye seemed to notice her tension. He didn’t say anything, only went to heat a basin of water. “Wash up first.”
They washed simply. Then he blew out the kerosene lamp, and the room fell into darkness.
Moonlight filtered through the papered window, casting faint shadows on the floor. Lin Wan lay on the kang bed, listening to his breathing beside her, her heart pounding.
He lifted the blanket and slipped in beside her. There was a faint scent of soap on him, mixed with a man’s natural warmth.
“Cold?” he asked softly.
“No,” she replied.
An arm reached over and gently wrapped around her waist. Lin Wan stiffened for a moment, then gradually relaxed.
His movements were careful—tentative, but respectful. When he kissed her, his lips were warm, his touch gentle. Lin Wan closed her eyes and slowly responded.
The night was tender, the world folding into warmth.
At first, she was still unfamiliar with it, but Lu Zhanye was patient, always attentive to her feelings. Gradually, the pain faded, replaced by an unfamiliar, shivering sensation.
She clutched his back tightly, her nails sinking into his solid muscles.
Outside, a dog barked in the distance, and wind rustled through the treetops.
But inside the room, there was only their intertwined breathing and heartbeats.
The next morning, Lin Wan woke up in sunlight.
She opened her eyes, her whole body sore—especially her waist and legs, as if she had fallen apart. When she turned over, the space beside her was already empty; Lu Zhanye had gotten up at some point.
A note was pinned under the pillow, written in crooked pencil handwriting:
“I’ve gone to work. I’ve already asked for leave for you. Breakfast is kept warm in the pot.”
Lin Wan picked up the note, then looked at the sun outside the window—judging by its height, it was already close to noon.
She hurried up to get dressed. Her legs weakened, almost making her stumble. She mentally complained about Lu Zhanye a few times, but her face still burned slightly.
Breakfast in the pot was corn porridge and two steamed corn buns—clearly only enough for one person.
Lin Wan thought for a moment, rolled up her sleeves, and got busy. She scooped out some cornmeal, chopped leftover greens from yesterday, and made a pot of dumpling soup. The dough pieces were evenly shaped, the greens fresh, and she added a few drops of oil—the lard rendered from what Wang Xiuying had given them yesterday.
Just as she finished, the courtyard gate rang.
Lu Zhanye had come back from work.
Seeing her in the kitchen, he paused. “Why are you up? You should’ve rested more.”
“I’ve rested enough,” Lin Wan said, ladling out the soup. “Let’s eat.”
They sat down at the table. Lu Zhanye looked at the steaming bowl of dumpling soup, then at her. “You made this?”
“Mm.” She kept her head down as she ate. “The breakfast you left wasn’t enough for two people, so I made something extra.”
He took a spoonful. The soup was fragrant, the dumplings chewy, the greens tender, with a faint aroma of oil.
“Delicious,” he said.
Lin Wan smiled slightly but didn’t respond.
“About last night…” Lu Zhanye looked at her, a little awkward for once. “Are you okay? I’ll be more careful next time.”
Lin Wan’s face turned even redder. She lowered her head. “I’m fine. Eat.”
They ate in quiet. Sunlight poured through the window, brightening the table. Sparrows chirped outside in the courtyard.
“I’ve already taken the day off for you,” Lu Zhanye said. “You don’t need to go to work this afternoon either. Rest at home.”
“Mm.” She nodded.
After the meal, Lu Zhanye insisted on washing the dishes. Lin Wan didn’t argue and leaned against the doorframe watching him.
He worked efficiently; the water ran loudly as he moved, his tall, solid figure outlined in the sunlight.
When he finished, he wiped his hands. “I’m going to build the chicken coop. The materials are already in the yard—it’ll be quick.”
“I’ll help you.”
“No need. You rest.” He pressed her shoulder gently. “I can handle this much alone.”
Lin Wan watched him go outside—lifting stones, mixing mud, moving with practiced ease. Sweat formed on his forehead under the sun.
She pulled over a small stool and sat by the door, watching him build their chicken coop.
It felt steady.
This was her home now. A husband, a house, soon chickens and a vegetable garden.
The road ahead was still long, still full of unknowns.
But at least in this moment, the sun was good, and life was calm.
And that was enough.