It was midday, and everyone was hungry. Without exchanging too many pleasantries, they picked up their chopsticks and started eating.

Wu Lanshu sat down and first served her young master a bowl of soup. The heat always affected Shen Qingzhu’s appetite, and the only thing he could handle during such times was some soup. Anything too greasy was out of the question.

Shen Qingzhu took the bowl from her and told her not to worry about him, urging her to eat quickly.

At the same table, Liu Fang, who was pregnant, couldn’t eat anything too heavily flavored. She tried a spoonful of the soup her mother-in-law had served her, and it was light and refreshing, perfectly to her taste.

Lin Erzhu stretched his neck to check that his wife was eating well, and once he was satisfied, he turned his head and noticed that Zhou Song was also watching in that direction.

Lin Erzhu turned back, then turned again and nudged Zhou Song with his elbow. “What are you looking at?”

Zhou Song, nudged by him, withdrew his gaze without answering. Instead, he picked up a piece of fish and placed it in his mouth.

Lin Erzhu was used to his friend’s behavior by now. He smirked and didn’t ask further. Grabbing a piece of braised pork, he tasted it and immediately raised his eyebrows in delight. “Aunt Wu’s cooking is really something! It’s no worse than the restaurants in town!”

His voice wasn’t quiet, and everyone in the room heard him. Aunt Qian looked up at him and laughed, “You talk as if you’ve been to the restaurants in town before.”

“I may not have, but I can imagine it, right? I just think Aunt Wu’s cooking is better than those restaurants,” Lin Erzhu replied, completely unembarrassed by the teasing.

Wu Lanshu laughed at his words. “If you think it’s good, eat more today. If it’s not enough, I can make more for you later.”

“That’s great!” Lin Erzhu leaned toward her. “Can I pack some to go? I’d love to eat it again tonight!”

His blunt request sent the room into laughter, with people joking that inviting him for a meal was a loss, as they’d have to feed him twice.

Thanks to his humor, the initially somewhat formal atmosphere relaxed considerably.

Wu Lanshu, laughing with squinted eyes, turned to Aunt Qian and said, “Your son is truly entertaining. He must keep you laughing all the time.”

Aunt Qian, pretending to be annoyed, shot her son a glance, but her eyes were filled with pride. “This boy is just shameless like that. He never knows how to be polite, no matter whose house he’s in.”

“It’s good that he’s straightforward. He speaks openly, and it’s easy to get along with him,” Wu Lanshu patted Aunt Qian’s arm, adding, “You’ve raised a good son.”

“That’s true.” Aunt Qian nodded in agreement. “Though he’s a bit cheeky and talks a lot, he’s got a good heart.”

Shen Qingzhu, overhearing their conversation, glanced at the man named Lin Erzhu. At that moment, Lin Erzhu was pouring wine and toasting the village head, leaning sideways against the table, talking non-stop and making everyone laugh.

In contrast, Zhou Song beside him remained silent, focused on eating, sitting upright without any intention of drinking.

These two personalities were complete opposites, yet they had somehow become friends, which was quite unusual.

Perhaps sensing his gaze, Zhou Song, who had been eating with his head down, suddenly looked up. Their eyes met unexpectedly.

Caught off guard, the man seemed a little flustered, instinctively looking away. But feeling something was off, he tentatively looked back, realizing it might still seem impolite. His gaze flickered uncertainly.

Shen Qingzhu found it amusing and let out a soft laugh.

Wu Lanshu, sitting next to him, heard the laugh and asked what he found funny. He shook his head and naturally shifted his gaze away, sparing the flustered man.

Seeing that he wasn’t being stared at anymore, Zhou Song let out a small sigh of relief but also felt a subtle disappointment. He grabbed the cup beside him, took a sip, and frowned—it was wine.

He distinctly remembered that his cup had always been filled with water. He wasn’t fond of drinking and rarely participated in such drinking games.

Zhou Song put down the cup and shot a sideways glance at Lin Erzhu. No one else would dare switch his cup but that guy.

As Lin Erzhu was happily drinking, he suddenly felt a cold chill on the back of his head. He turned around and saw Zhou Song giving him a stern look, which sent a shiver down his spine. “What are you staring at me for, Brother Song?”

Zhou Song lifted his chin, indicating his cup.

Lin Erzhu followed his gaze, realized what had happened, and chuckled sheepishly, “Oh, come on, Brother Song. We’re having fun here. How can you not drink a couple of cups to match this great food?”

Zhou Song didn’t bother responding. He downed the wine in his cup, refilled it with water, and took a bite of food to wash away the taste of alcohol.

Having tricked him into drinking one cup, Lin Erzhu felt satisfied and didn’t dare push further.

Their Brother Song was just different from the usual guys—he didn’t even like drinking.

At another table, halfway through the meal, people had grown familiar with each other.

Aunt Qian, her curiosity piqued, couldn’t help but ask the quieter Shen Qingzhu, “Shen Xiaolang, how old are you?”

Hearing the question, Shen Qingzhu put down his chopsticks. “I’m eighteen.”

“Oh! That’s the age to start looking for a marriage partner.” Aunt Qian sighed.

For someone his age, especially in the village, he was considered late. The girls usually started looking for suitors at fifteen or sixteen, and Kun Ze were about the same.

But she didn’t want to sound too direct, so she simply asked, “Haven’t you found someone you like?”

“No, I haven’t,” Shen Qingzhu lowered his eyes.

His parents had always told him they would help him find a Qian Yuan he truly liked. If they couldn’t, they were fine with keeping him by their side forever—no one would force him into something he didn’t want.

His sister often said that her brother deserved only the best Qian Yuan in the world, and those pompous, useless men in the capital weren’t worthy of him.

Noticing his expression, Aunt Qian thought she might have touched on something sensitive and was about to apologize when Shen Qingzhu looked up and smiled at her.

“My family, like Aunt Wang, can’t bear to marry me off too soon. They want to keep me around for a few more years.”

Seeing how calm he was, Wu Lanshu sighed inwardly.

Aunt Wang, holding her daughter’s hand, nodded in agreement. “That’s right. We’ve raised her for so long, it’s hard to let go.”

“Indeed,” Aunt Qian chimed in, relieved she hadn’t upset him. “Good thing I only have a boy. If I had a daughter, I’d probably never want her to leave.”

Then she turned and patted her daughter-in-law Liu Fang’s back. “But I love my daughter-in-law like she’s my own daughter.”

Liu Fang blushed and smiled shyly. Her mother-in-law truly treated her well, even better than her own mother had.

This thought saddened her, and she lowered her eyes.

Sensing her shift in mood, Aunt Qian gently placed her hand over Liu Fang’s, softly comforting her.

Liu Fang had been quite emotional since becoming pregnant. Sometimes, even the smallest things could bring her to tears, and she couldn’t control it.

Shen Qingzhu noticed this and reached for his cup. Holding it with both hands, he raised his voice and said, “I’d like to offer everyone a toast with tea instead of wine. In the future, Wu Lanshu and I will surely need to trouble all of you for help in the village, so I thank you in advance.”

Everyone at the tables lifted their cups in response, saying there was no need to be so polite. Now that he was living in Qi Shan Village, they were all neighbors, and there was no such thing as trouble.

Zhou Song, watching his radiant profile, reached over Lin Erzhu and grabbed the wine jar from the other side. In response to the surprised looks around him, he poured himself a cup and downed it in one gulp.

It wasn’t a bother—whatever it was, it wouldn’t be a bother.

With that thought in mind, he finished his meal, which was filled with lively chatter and laughter. Everyone was satisfied. Despite the festive atmosphere, the men managed to restrain themselves from getting drunk.

After seeing the village head and the others off, Aunt Qian and Aunt Wang rolled up their sleeves, offering to stay behind and help clean up. Aunt Wang’s daughter, Zhao Xiaoling, also helped carry dishes to the kitchen.

Liu Fang, who always took a nap after lunch, was taken home by Lin Erzhu after he called out his goodbyes.

Shen Qingzhu brought a basin of water into the main hall and wrung out a cloth to wipe the tables.

In the past, he had been pampered and had never done such work. But now, he had to learn. At first, Wu Lanshu always stopped him from doing any chores, worried about his status. But eventually, he persuaded her to let him do some light tasks.

However, she only compromised so much—she still wouldn’t let him do any of the heavier chores like laundry, cooking, fetching water, or chopping wood, no matter how much he tried to convince her.

Shen Qingzhu didn’t argue further. There was still plenty of time to slowly adapt.

After finishing one table, he looked up and saw Zhou Song standing at the door, making him pause. “Zhou Song, why haven’t you left yet?”

Instead of answering, Zhou Song asked, “These tables and chairs are borrowed, right?”

Not understanding why he asked, Shen Qingzhu still nodded.

These tall tables and benches for hosting guests weren’t his own. Wu Lanshu had considered hiring a carpenter to make some, thinking they might need them in the future.

Zhou Song flexed his fingers and said, “I’m strong. I’ll help you return them later.”

Shen Qingzhu looked at him, finding some sense in what he said. After all, it was the men from the other family who helped bring them over, and it wouldn’t be right to make them come back to collect them. “Isn’t that too much trouble for you?”

“No, it’s not,” Zhou Song replied quickly, almost as if he feared being refused.

Shen Qingzhu suddenly smiled and nodded in agreement. “Alright, thank you very much, then.”

After saying that, he went to the basin, washed the cloth, wrung it dry, and prepared to wipe the next table.

Seeing that Shen Qingzhu had accepted his offer, Zhou Song relaxed his curled fingers and stepped into the house to start tidying up the scattered benches.

He moved quickly and efficiently, lifting a bench with just one hand and placing it neatly in the corner, ready to be returned later.

Shen Qingzhu glanced at him but didn’t stop him.

There were only three tables, and cleaning them wasn’t much of a task. After quickly finishing, he went outside to pour the dirty water into the yard and took the wooden basin to the kitchen.

Seeing him enter, the women washing dishes urged him to rest, saying they’d be done soon.

“Zhou Song hasn’t left yet. He offered to help return the tables, so I’ll go with him,” Shen Qingzhu explained. After all, it wouldn’t be proper to let a guest handle everything.

Wu Lanshu was momentarily surprised but then smiled. “Zhou Song may seem cold, but he’s always been kind-hearted.”

“Who says he isn’t?” Aunt Qian agreed with a nod. “Though he doesn’t talk much, most of the villagers really like him.”

Aunt Wang, who was wiping dishes nearby, smiled at this. “Especially the young ladies.”

At this comment, Aunt Qian and Aunt Wang, who knew the inside story, laughed together.

Shen Qingzhu raised his eyebrows—so this quiet man was quite popular.

But thinking about it, it made sense. Zhou Song was the only Qian Yuan in the entire village and was quite handsome, so it wasn’t surprising that the girls liked him.

“With so many girls fond of him, why hasn’t Zhou Song gotten married yet?” Wu Lanshu asked, curious.

“He doesn’t want to marry, I suppose. Who knows what kind of person he likes,” Aunt Qian sighed. “A while back, there was this Kun Ze from the neighboring village, Li Yuanwai’s…”

“Aunt Qian!”

Before she could finish, she was suddenly interrupted. She turned her head to see Zhou Song standing at the kitchen door. “What’s the matter, Zhou Song?”

“I’ve tidied up the tables and benches inside. I’m here to ask when Wu Lanshu would like to return them,” Zhou Song said, carefully glancing at Shen Qingzhu.

Aunt Qian was puzzled—why had he interrupted her just to ask about returning the tables?