The Second Young Master’s Obedient Husband : Chapter 31

The next day, Su Qingyu had Shuanzi pass on a message. Shuanzi said Second Brother Liang hadn’t come out of the mountains yet, and would pass it on when he returned.

After seven or eight days, Liang Yu came out of the mountains.

That afternoon, Su Qingyu was feeding the chickens in the courtyard. A few days ago he had bought a dozen or so chicks, fluffy and yellow, running around the courtyard, cheeping and calling, adding quite a bit of life to the yard.

The courtyard gate was pushed open, and Liang Yu walked in.

Su Qingyu looked up at Liang Yu, and his heart suddenly beat a bit faster.

Liang Yu walked up to him, his gaze turning around him, his hand naturally rubbing Su Qingyu’s cheek flesh, his line of sight falling on that group of chicks, and he raised an eyebrow. “Bought chickens?”

“Mm.” Su Qingyu patted the bran off his hands. “A dozen or so, raise them until they lay eggs.”

“Go to your room to talk.” Liang Yu withdrew his hand, and walked familiarly toward Su Qingyu’s room.

Su Qingyu followed him in, and poured a bowl of water. Liang Yu sat down, drank a mouthful of water, and opened his mouth. “About your land matter, I’ve asked around.”

Su Qingyu sat across from him, listening carefully.

“At the west end of the village there’s a tenant farmer surnamed Zhou, honest and steady, with a large family, always wanted to rent a few more mu of land.” Liang Yu put down the bowl. “His family has rented land from the village head’s family for three generations, never had any problems. If you’re willing, let him rent those few mu of mature land from you, rent split according to rules, forty sixty, you get forty and he gets sixty.”

Su Qingyu nodded, listening.

“Don’t rent out the wasteland yet, keep it and slowly clear it.” Liang Yu continued. “I asked around, after spring starts the village will organize digging irrigation channels. When those wasteland plots get water, they can plant beans. Beans enrich the soil, plant for a few years, and the land will be fertile.”

Su Qingyu raised his eyes to look at him, his eyes full of reliance. “Second Brother Liang has put in so much effort.”

Liang Yu looked at him like this, gave a light laugh, reached out and rubbed the top of his head.

“Stop saying these useless things.” Liang Yu withdrew his hand. “That Zhou tenant farmer will come sign the contract with you in a couple of days. When the time comes I’ll have Shuanzi come call you. Once the contract is signed, I’ll have people keep an eye on the rent collection every year after that. He won’t dare to play tricks.”

Su Qingyu nodded, his heart hot and his face hot too, nestling into Liang Yu’s arms, raising his head and actively kissing him.

Liang Yu caught Su Qingyu by the back of his neck, their lips and tongues tangling.

…

It wasn’t convenient at Su Qingyu’s house, so Liang Yu only barely satisfied his craving.

After Liang Yu left, Su Qingyu washed the cloth with warm water with a red face, looking at his own palm that had been rubbed red. On a strange impulse he secretly sniffed it, then immediately went completely red, bit his lip, and with red ears continued washing the cloth.

Two days later, someone indeed came. The Zhou tenant farmer was a man around forty, with dark skin, big hands and feet, speaking in a simple and honest manner. Seeing Su Qingyu he kept rubbing his hands, saying Young Master Su could rest assured, the land would definitely be well tended, and not a single grain of rent would be short.

They signed the contract, pressed their fingerprints, and the matter was settled.

Those few mu of mature land rented out, every year could collect quite a bit of rent, enough for mother and son to get by. Su Qingyu held that contract document, looked at it again and again, then folded it and put it away in the kang hole where the silver was hidden, his heart feeling much more at ease.

A few days later, Su Qingyu bought a calf. A yellow ox, half grown, cost several taels of silver. When it was led back, Mother Su felt around and touched the ox’s head, her eyes somewhat wet.

“With an ox, the wasteland can be cleared.” Mother Su said.

Su Qingyu nodded, looking at that calf, looking at the chicks running around the courtyard, looking at those few rooms that though worn out were kept clean, smiling and then crying again.

Finally there was hope.

That evening, Su Qingyu stood in the courtyard, looking toward the mountains. The setting sun was going down, dyeing the mountains over there golden red, like flowing brocade, shimmering with beautiful colors.

Mother Su called him to eat from inside the room. Su Qingyu responded, turned around and walked back.

The kitchen chimney was sending up cooking smoke, carrying the aroma of food, that unique homey smell of cooking fires, drifting along the warm wind, floating far toward the western sky full of sunset glow.

Spring plowing was busy, but carried the laughter and joy of life.

The courtyard gained more liveliness.

Aunt Wang’s family brought over a nest of chicks, ones that Aunt Wang had specially raised for over ten days before bringing them. The chicks were very spirited, fluffy and soft, bright yellow, together with the chicks Su Qingyu bought they became the rowdiest group in the courtyard, running around the yard. There were also a few ducklings, sent by Shuanzi. The ducklings waddled along, following behind the chicks, sometimes falling into the water basin, splashing and calling out.

Su Qingyu fed the chickens and ducks every day, and had to build a chicken coop to avoid the tragedy of accidentally stepping on chicks. He gathered firewood, cooked, and tended those few mu of wasteland. The days were busy, but steady.

Mother Su’s face was no longer so lifeless either. She helped feed the chickens, swept the courtyard, and tended the small vegetable patch in the back. Sometimes she sat in the courtyard basking in the sun, listening to the calls of chicks and ducklings, a smile on her face.

That evening, Su Qingyu came back from the fields, and from afar saw Mother Su standing at the courtyard gate. The afterglow of the setting sun shone on Mother Su, that figure straighter than before, her complexion much better, vaguely showing the graceful bearing of her youth. Seeing Su Qingyu, she waved her hand.

“Mother, why are you standing outside? The wind is cool.”

Mother Su smiled, took Su Qingyu’s hand and brought him inside. “Waiting for you to come back to eat.”

Su Qingyu and Mother Su walked toward the courtyard, the aroma of food drifting out from the kitchen, made by Mother Su, a southern style fish stewed with tofu, looking light but very flavorful. Su Qingyu hadn’t eaten this in a very long time. Su Qingyu’s eyes rimmed red, but he smiled very happily.

Su Qingyu turned his head and looked toward the east.

The direction of the Liang house, cooking smoke rising in spirals. He didn’t know what that person was eating today.