When Shen Qingzhu entered the kitchen, the aunts were all busy preparing food. With the pig slaughtered, they were getting ready for the midday banquet, which would also serve as a celebration for Xiaobao’s birth, meaning there would be several tables set up. They’d been working since early morning.

Aside from Aunt Qian and Wu Lanshu, Shen Qingzhu only knew Aunt Wang relatively well; he had seen the other ladies around the village, but he wasn’t very familiar with them.

“Qingzhu, what brings you here? Do you need anything?” Aunt Qian, who was standing near the door, noticed him immediately.

As soon as she spoke, everyone else turned to look at him. Shen Qingzhu didn’t feel awkward under their gaze and replied calmly, “Zhou Song got blood all over his hands. I came to see if there’s any warm water for him to wash up with.”

“Yes, yes, there is. Wait a moment; I’ll fetch some for you,” Aunt Qian said, grabbing a wooden basin resting by the door and heading to get some warm water.

One of the aunts teased, “See, having a husband really makes a difference! When Young Zhou went to help at someone else’s place a few days ago, he just rinsed off with cold water. Now he’s got someone looking out for him!”

“Yes, and Young Zhou knows how to care for others too. He doesn’t even stay for the banquet after helping; he goes straight home to be with his husband,” another aunt chuckled.

Their teasing was good-natured, just some lighthearted banter about the newlyweds’ affection for each other. They were quite fond of seeing such a loving couple, unlike their own husbands, who would stay out drinking till late, needing someone to drag them home half-conscious.

Wu Lanshu smiled warmly, pleased with what she heard.

Shen Qingzhu didn’t feel embarrassed by their chatter; he simply listened with a cheerful smile.

Aunt Qian returned with the warm water and joined in, “Qingzhu is such a good husband; someone like him is rare to find. Zhou Song knows to treat him well.”

Everyone nodded, echoing her sentiment, and some joked about whether their own children would ever find such a good partner, lamenting that their kids were all too wild without someone to rein them in.

The conversation soon veered off to other topics, and Shen Qingzhu took the water outside, with Aunt Qian calling after him to be careful.

Outside, the tall man was obediently sitting on a small stool, his blood-stained hands held out, though he started to hide them behind him again when he saw Shen Qingzhu approaching.

“Alright, wash up. I’m not so delicate that I’d be scared by a bit of blood.” Shen Qingzhu set the water down in front of him and nodded for him to go ahead.

Not just pig’s blood—Shen Qingzhu had seen human blood too. In the capital, human life meant little to the nobility; servants and slaves were treated no better than livestock, easily disposed of like stepping on an ant.

Though his parents had protected him, there were some dark realities in the capital that he couldn’t avoid witnessing.

Seeing that Shen Qingzhu truly wasn’t bothered, Zhou Song relaxed and placed his hands in the warm water Aunt Qian had prepared. The blood had dried slightly on his hands, and with the cold, it was tough to wash off, so he scrubbed a bit.

Watching him wash, Shen Qingzhu commented, “I heard from the aunts in the kitchen that you’ve always used cold water to wash your hands before.”

Zhou Song nodded, “I’m not bothered by the cold; cold water is convenient.”

Shen Qingzhu placed a hand on his head, “From now on, use warm water in winter. Understood?”

Zhou Song looked up to meet Kun Ze’s smiling eyes and found himself nodding without thinking, “Alright.”

“That’s a good boy.” Shen Qingzhu patted him on the head, then glanced over at the group still working on the pig in the yard. He bent down and planted a quick, light kiss on Zhou Song’s forehead. “A reward.”

After the kiss, he turned and walked back to the main hall, leaving Zhou Song frozen in place, unable to snap out of it.

After a long pause, he looked down, raised his still-wet hand as if to touch his brow, but then stopped, unwilling to wipe away the faint sensation left by Kun Ze’s touch.

•

When the banquet started, the men and women sat separately since the men would be drinking, and it would get noisy.

Shen Qingzhu’s seating situation was a bit awkward. He was a Kun Ze, but also a man, so neither table seemed quite suitable. Zhou Song didn’t plan to drink and thought he’d just sit with him.

Aunt Qian quickly decided that she, Wu Lanshu, Aunt Wang and her daughter, Liu Fang, and the newlyweds would share a table. With a few close elders there, it was perfectly appropriate.

Lin Erzhu, being the host, had to sit with the men’s table and entertain them, raising a few cups as host.

Once seating was sorted, the banquet began. Aunt Qian was generous with her dishes, serving plenty of meat—not just scraps—ensuring everyone had a hearty meal.

Zhou Song sat right beside Shen Qingzhu on a bench, their shoulders pressed together. He picked up a piece of cabbage and vermicelli stewed with pork, steaming hot, and placed it in Kun Ze’s bowl. “Try this; the vermicelli is made by Aunt Qian herself. If you like it, I’ll make some for you later.”

Shen Qingzhu picked it up, blew on it a bit, and tasted it. This was his first time having vermicelli, soft and chewy from simmering in the broth, richly flavored. The warmth of it spread through him, bringing a comfortable fullness to his stomach.

He nodded, “It’s delicious.”

Seeing his enjoyment, Aunt Qian smiled, “I made plenty. Take some home with you.”

“Oh, so only Shen Xiaolang can take some home, and not us?” Aunt Wang pretended to be displeased, setting down her chopsticks, “I won’t allow that.”

Aunt Qian, who was close to her, gave her a playful glare, “I’ve made enough for everyone, even you. Look at you, old enough to be my rival, squabbling over food with the young folks.”

“Squabbling is how you get what you want,” Aunt Wang joked, nudging Wu Lanshu. “We’ll take extra when we go. Let’s clear her out, make her regret it!”

Wu Lanshu chuckled and played along, “Alright!”

“Oh, you two are shameless,” Aunt Qian pointed at Aunt Wang, “Aren’t you afraid the kids will laugh at you?”

Their lighthearted banter made the atmosphere at the table even more relaxed. It was all family, so there was no need for formalities.

As Shen Qingzhu took another bite, he turned to Liu Fang and asked, “Is Xiaobao alright sleeping alone?”

Liu Fang shook her head, “He’s fine. I just fed him, so he’ll sleep for quite a while.”

Then she chuckled, “Mother says he’s just like Lin Erzhu was as a baby—eats and sleeps well, very easy to care for.”

Aunt Qian overheard and chimed in, “That’s true. He’s a sweet child. I just didn’t expect him to grow up so wild, climbing trees and jumping into rivers, coming home covered in mud and driving me mad.”

“Well, boys are like that. They’re always a handful,” Aunt Wang laughed. “Xiaobao might be good now, but when he’s older, he’ll be running wild too.”

Aunt Qian shook her head with a smile, “I think so too—just like his father.”

Meanwhile, Lin Erzhu, still drinking and unaware he was being talked about, carried on merrily at the other table.

Inevitably, the conversation shifted to the newlyweds.

Aunt Wang looked at Zhou Song and Shen Qingzhu, “Do you two have a preference for a little boy or a little girl?”

Zhou Song’s hand, mid-reach with the chopsticks, paused, and he didn’t answer right away.

Shen Qingzhu smiled and replied, “Both have their own charm.”

“Exactly,” Aunt Qian chuckled, “And who knows? They might have a little Qian Yuan or Kun Ze. No matter who they look like, they’re sure to be a beautiful child.”

Zhou Song continued quietly listening, not saying anything, and simply placed another piece of food in Shen Qingzhu’s bowl.

Shen Qingzhu looked at him and leaned in to whisper, “What about you? Would you prefer a little Qian Yuan or a little Kun Ze?”

Zhou Song raised his eyes to meet his, then lowered them again and softly replied, “I only like you.”

Shen Qingzhu’s heart fluttered, and he placed his hand over Zhou Song’s resting on his lap, smiling, “Wouldn’t you want a little Kun Ze who looks just like me?”

Zhou Song’s eyelashes quivered slightly, and he stayed silent for a moment.

Shen Qingzhu didn’t press further, smiling to himself and quietly finishing the food Zhou Song had served him.

The banquet was lively and satisfying, with everyone enjoying themselves. After helping with a bit of cleanup, everyone headed home.

As they were leaving, Lin Erzhu asked Zhou Song if he’d be going to the town market tomorrow to stock up on New Year’s goods.

Zhou Song had been meaning to go, so he agreed, thinking he could also bring Kun Ze along and buy him a couple of new outfits for the New Year.

When Shen Qingzhu heard about their trip to town, he said, “Then let’s go with Aunt Wu to get the horse carriage tomorrow.”

Zhou Song had been thinking the same. If he were alone, he’d just take the ox cart, but with Kun Ze, a horse carriage would be more comfortable and warm.

Lin Erzhu overheard and said, “I’ll ask my mother if she wants to go too. That way, she can handle her own shopping.”

He’d initially thought it was too cold to bring anyone else along, but with the carriage, it would be manageable.

As for Liu Fang, she was still recuperating. While she could move around at home, going to town would be too tiring. Besides, the trip was mostly for errands, not leisure.

With everything decided, Shen Qingzhu told Wu Lanshu about the trip before he and Zhou Song returned home.

As they were leaving, Aunt Qian handed them some vermicelli to take back, which Zhou Song stored in the kitchen, thinking he’d make some vermicelli soup for Kun Ze that night.

When he didn’t see Shen Qingzhu in the main room upon their return, he hesitated before heading to the study, where he found him standing by the bookshelf.

He walked over, “What are you looking at?”

Shen Qingzhu turned, “Just checking how much paper we have left to see if we need to buy more tomorrow.”

“Better buy some; we’ll find a use for it,” Zhou Song replied. Now it wasn’t just Shen Qingzhu who used the paper; Zhou Song had started practicing copying simple verses himself.

Shen Qingzhu nodded and then paused, “Husband, I’ve been thinking of something, but I haven’t told you yet.”

“What is it?” Zhou Song asked, glancing at him as he organized the paper.

Shen Qingzhu turned to face him directly, looking up into his eyes. “I want to open a school in the village.”

Zhou Song was taken aback, “A school?”

Shen Qingzhu nodded, “Firstly, I want something meaningful to occupy myself with. Secondly, I’d like the village children to learn a bit of reading and writing. Even if they don’t pursue scholarly honors, at least they’d have some knowledge and broaden their perspective. When they grow up, they wouldn’t be as limited, forced to rely solely on farming. It would be a good thing.”

Zhou Song looked at his serious expression, unsure of what to say for a moment.

When he stayed silent, Shen Qingzhu thought he might have concerns, “Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

Zhou Song quickly shook his head, “No, I just…”

For a moment, he couldn’t look away from Kun Ze, who was so full of consideration for the children he’d never even met.

“What is it?” Shen Qingzhu asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

Zhou Song shook his head again and took his hand, “Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you. If there are any difficulties, just tell me.”

Shen Qingzhu had expected his support and leaned in to rest against him, “Then, after the New Year, let’s go visit the village chief together.”

This wasn’t something he wanted to do impulsively; he’d need the chief’s support.

Zhou Song pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head, “Alright.”