The Butcher's Little Husband - Chapter 52

“My waist hurts a little…” Tian Xiaoman admitted softly. There was also a dull soreness in places he didn’t dare mention.

Li Wenxuan drew him close, rubbing his lower back with one large hand. But the longer he rubbed, the stronger his own desire stirred again. 

Noticing this, Tian Xiaoman quickly stops him—they’re about to serve tea, and if they get up late, it’ll be the talk of the village for years!

With no other choice, Li Wenxuan gets up and starts getting dressed. He helps Tian Xiaoman by laying out his clothes. 

Tian Xiaoman changes awkwardly under Li Wenxuan’s burning gaze. He thinks about asking him to leave, but they’re already married—everything that should’ve happened already has. What’s left to hide?

Once dressed, Li Wenxuan brings over some water for him to wash up. 

After freshening up, the two head to the front hall, where Father Li, Li Amu, Li Yiran, and Le-ge’er are already waiting.

Tian Xiaoman walks over, pours two cups of tea, and kneels before Father Li and Li Amu. “Father, Amu, please have some tea.”

They quickly take the cups, placing a large red envelope on the tray and repeating, “Good child, get up now.”

Tian Xiaoman pours another cup, walks over to Li Yiran, and bows.  “Brother, please have some tea.”

Li Yiran accepts the tea, takes a sip, and places another red envelope on the tray. “Your brother-in-law isn’t feeling well, so this is a gift from both of us. Please don’t take offense.”

Tian Xiaoman respectfully replies that he wouldn’t dare, then returns to his seat with the tray. 

Just then, Le-ge’er toddled up, bent his little body, and recited the line Li Amu had taught him: “Le-ge’er greets Momo!”

Tian Xiaoman quickly pulls him to his side.  “Le-ge’er, sweetheart, this is from your uncle and aunt.”

He takes out a pair of bracelets and a longevity lock and helps Le-ge’er put them on. 

Le-ge’er happily plays with the shiny trinkets, which make a gentle jingling sound.

Li Amu and Father Li exchange a smile. This child hasn’t changed a bit—even after getting married, he’s still as generous and thoughtful as ever.

With the tea ceremony complete, it’s Tian Xiaoman’s turn to show his skills and prepare meals for his new family.

Since the wedding feast had just ended yesterday, there were still plenty of leftover ingredients; the rest of the cooked food had already been sent to relatives and neighbors. Surveying the kitchen supplies, Xiaoman quickly formed a plan.

Li Wenxuan sneaks up from behind and wraps his arms around Tian Xiaoman’s waist.  “Xiaoman, have you decided what to make?”

“I have. And if you’d stop clinging to me, I’d have started already.” Xiaoman leaned back against him playfully.

“Hey, I just realized something!” Li Wenxuan says suddenly.

Tian Xiaoman turns to him, curious.  “What is it?”

“Well, we got married yesterday.” Wenxuan’s eyes sparkled with teasing warmth. “But Xiaoman—you still haven’t called me anything yet.”

“Li Wenxuan?” Xiaoman said tentatively.

“How does your Amu address your father?” Li Wenxuan nudges, clearly wanting to hear that word.

Tian Xiaoman bursts out laughing. “Old man! Hahaha!”

Li Wenxuan groans in mock defeat, about to protest, when Tian Xiaoman suddenly tiptoes, leans in, and whispers softly in his ear, “Fujun ~” (husband)

Li Wenxuan hugs him tightly, repeating it again and again into his ear. “Fulang.”

“Fujun”

They called each other over and over. If not for the growling in their stomachs, they might have kept going all morning.

Meanwhile, Le-ge’er sits in the front hall on Li Amu’s lap, rubbing his tummy and peeking outside—where was breakfast?

Seeing this, Li Amu has Father Li bring out some pastries to tide everyone over. Who knew how long those two in the kitchen would take!

Tian Xiaoman takes stock of the ingredients—mushrooms, a piece of meat, and a few carrots. He decides to make buns for breakfast.

First, he ferments the dough. While waiting, he chops the mushrooms, pork, and carrots finely and mixes them together with seasonings.

Once the dough is ready, he gets Li Wenxuan to knead it—more muscle meant chewier dough. Then they roll it out, cut it into chunks, and flatten them with a rolling pin.

Tian Xiaoman scoops some filling into each wrapper. With swift hands, he shapes big, plump buns in no time.

Soon, more than twenty buns are lined up and ready. 

Li Wenxuan builds a fire and sets water to boil. Tian Xiaoman places the buns in the steamer. After a quarter of an hour, they’re perfectly cooked.

Li Wenxuan carries the steaming tray to the front hall.

“Father, Amu, Brother, sorry to keep you waiting,” Tian Xiaoman says apologetically.

“It’s fine. We’re not that hungry,” Li Amu replies warmly, smiling at him.

Everyone gathers at the table. 

Tian Xiaoman brings out a separate bowl. “Le-ge’er, this is for you.”

He had also made a steamed egg for Le-ge’er, worried the little one might not eat enough with just buns.

Le-ge’er beams with delight at the sight of the egg and, with a nudge from Li Amu, thanks Tian Xiaoman sweetly.

Everyone digs in—steaming buns, warm soup, lively chatter. Time passes quickly as they eat heartily.

After the meal, Li Yiran stands up and tells everyone to wait. “I have something to announce.”

Everyone turns to him.

“Father, Amu, I don’t want to be a teacher anymore.”

His words are like thunder, leaving everyone stunned.

“What happened?” Father Li asks, concerned.

“Nothing happened,” Li Yiran shakes his head. “I want to take the imperial exam again.”

“But you haven’t studied for years… Will it work?” someone mutters. Even scholars in the neighboring village study day and night and still fail.

“I’ve been studying in my spare time. The imperial exams are held every three years—the next is next year. If I miss this chance, it’s another three years of waiting.”

Father and Li Amu exchange glances, unsure how to respond.

“I support my brother’s decision!” Li Wenxuan speaks up. He hadn’t planned to, but seeing the tension, he steps in. “Even though brother is a private tutor, he’s still under someone else’s control and doesn’t have a formal position. He used to study so diligently. If it weren’t for our family’s situation back then, he might already be an official! Now that he’s made up his mind, we should support him.”

Li Amu nods, then suddenly asks,  “Have you talked to Meng Ge’er about this? Does he agree?”

“I haven’t had the chance yet. I wanted to speak to you first.”

He had tried, but Meng Ge’er always veered the topic off-course—talking instead about someone else’s husband or ignoring him altogether.

“Well, if you’ve made up your mind, we won’t object. But the two of you must discuss this properly. Only through communication can you live in harmony.”

“I will,” Li Yiran promises.

He stayed home another day, then left early the next morning when the coachman came for him. His leave only lasted three or four days, after all.

As for Wenxuan and Xiaoman, the days that followed were filled with sweetness. Wenxuan had closed his butcher shop for several days just to accompany Xiaoman everywhere.

Xiaoman was so happy he could barely contain it—and couldn’t wait to tell his Father and Amu everything.

Fortunately, tomorrow would be the third-day return visit—when he would go home to see his family again.