With the Horse Carriage, They Could Sleep Two More Hours Than Before
Qinghua was an energetic young horse, running swiftly. By the time they reached the county town, they would stable the carriage in the backyard to rest while they set up their stall.
Customers who loved their braised meats always arrived early.
Sharp-eyed regulars noticed He Zifeng carrying a basin of braised pork bones to deliver to the inn.
The bones, with their glistening tendons and meat still trembling slightly, were maddeningly tempting.
“Hey, why the rush? Let me take a look!”
Others asked Qiu Yu, “New dish?”
Qiu Yu replied, “That’s an order for the inn.” They had only made a small batch—the bones shrank significantly after braising. Luckily, they had prepared extra, though they had eaten quite a bit themselves.
The customers’ mouths watered at the thought of gnawing on those bones. “How much? Are you selling it separately?”
Qiu Yu said, “Our custom-made large iron pot hasn’t arrived yet, so we can’t take new orders for now.” With only two pots at home—one from the rented courtyard and their original one—they were constantly in use. Braising these bulky bones required both pots. They simply couldn’t handle more, especially with Gouzi’s Father’s market day order. It would be a while before they could expand.
Disappointed, the customers reluctantly accepted this, urging them to start selling as soon as possible.
After delivering the order, He Zifeng returned to help at the stall.
Qiu Yu had already informed their regulars that they would no longer sell scallion pancakes, focusing solely on braised meats.
This news was met with regret. Though several stalls in the street sold pancakes, none matched theirs. The dough was chewy, with a natural grain aroma that grew richer with each bite, and the sauce added a savory depth that made them irresistible.
Their chili sauce was equally popular—perfect with steamed buns, rice, or noodles. The only downside was how quickly it disappeared. A large jar lasted two days at most; for bigger families, one jar was just enough for a meal.
Now, with the pancakes discontinued, customers anxiously asked if the chili sauce would still be available.
Qiu Yu assured them, “Yes.” They needed it for the braised meats too. But with limited pots, they could only make about thirty jars daily, far less than before.
They had bought out Old Lame’s entire year’s supply of sauce, forcing him to hurriedly prepare a new batch, which wouldn’t be ready for some time. Until then, they had to ration sales.
This was another reason they stopped the pancakes.
Soon, the inn’s waiter and the escort agency’s Brother Liu came for their usual pancake order, only to be dismayed by the news. The fragrant pancakes had been a highlight of their mornings.
Other stalls’ pancakes paled in comparison.
They could only hope that once He Zifeng and Qiu Yu settled into their new routine, the pancakes might return.
With only a hundred pancakes prepared, two large orders and a few small ones quickly cleared them out.
Only about five catties of braised meats remained. If every day’s sales were this smooth, they could earn well without backbreaking labor.
Soon, the last five catties were snapped up by two customers.
Counting their earnings—six taels of silver—they set aside one tael for yesterday’s carriage rental. Qiu Yu planned to use the remaining five taels to buy spices and herbs for the braised meats’ seasoning, telling He Zifeng to wait for him.
But He Zifeng said, “I’ll go for a walk too.”
They went their separate ways, with He Zifeng taking Qinghua along.
The handsome horse turned heads wherever they went.
He Zifeng headed to Xiao He Ran’s private school. As a man, he was too proud to admit he missed his son. Though the children would have a three-day break in five days, He Zifeng couldn’t wait. He just wanted a glimpse from afar.
Arriving during recess, he saw the children playing—some tossing sandbags, others hopping in chalk-drawn squares.
His eyes immediately found his son, squatting on the ground, carefully writing characters with a stick.
He Zifeng’s heart melted.
Just then, a voice called, “Uncle He!” It was Gouzi.
Looking around, Gouzi asked, “Is my dad here?”
He Zifeng said, “He’s busy. He’ll pick you up next break.” He handed over a few pieces of malt candy wrapped in oiled paper.
“Thanks, Uncle He.”
He Zifeng added, “Be good. Don’t fight with your classmates.”
Gouzi nodded, then shouted to Little He Ran, still absorbed in his writing, “Ranran, your dad’s here!”
He Zifeng had intended to sneak a peek, worried his presence might make the boy homesick.
But at Gouzi’s call, his son came running like a foal, arms outstretched. “Daddy!”
He Zifeng scooped him up. At home, the boy usually just called him “Dad”—now it was the more affectionate “Daddy.”
Holding his son, He Zifeng felt the child nuzzle against him. He stole a kiss, making Little He Ran giggle.
“Did you miss Ranran?” the boy asked in his sweet, childish voice.
“Yes.”
“Ranran missed you too,” he said, then proudly announced, “I can write ‘big’ now. And ‘one.’ And…”
He Zifeng praised, “My son is so smart! Daddy doesn’t know how to write. Can you teach me?” This was just to indulge the boy—He Zifeng had attended school for years and could read and write well.
Little He Ran’s sense of responsibility swelled. “Mm! I’ll learn more and teach you when I come home.” He snuggled closer.
This child was He Zifeng’s heart. When Ranran was born, so tiny and soft in his arms, he’d have given him the world.
Now, the boy chattered like a little magpie: “Did you water my rabbit?”
He Zifeng said, “Your little dad does it every day.” Only their son’s beloved pet could inspire such care. Qiu Yu had joked that if not for Ranran’s attachment, the rabbit would’ve been stewed long ago.
He Zifeng led Qinghua forward. “This is Qinghua. When you come home, we’ll ride in the carriage.”
Distracted by his father earlier, Little He Ran now gaped at the horse, eyes shining. “Wow.” Timidly, he asked, “Can I touch it?”
“Of course.” He Zifeng turned so his son faced the horse.
To Little He Ran, Qinghua seemed enormous, but he wasn’t afraid. “Qinghua,” he called softly.
The horse nuzzled closer. The boy reached out, touched its nose, then quickly hid his hand, giggling shyly into He Zifeng’s shoulder. “I touched it!”
Whispering in his father’s ear, he said, “I want to be friends with Qinghua.”
“Okay.”
The boy beamed. But then a whistle blew, signaling the end of recess.
Reluctantly, Little He Ran wriggled to be put down. Though he didn’t want his father to leave, he was too well-behaved to skip class. “Come get me next time,” he insisted.
“I will.”
Pouting, the boy waved and ran back inside.
He Zifeng lingered until the children’s recitation of the Three Character Classic began, then finally left.
Returning home, he found Qiu Yu about to rush out in alarm. Seeing man and horse, Qiu Yu relaxed. “You left together. I thought we’d been robbed.”
He Zifeng tied up the horse.
Alone now, Qiu Yu nestled into his arms. “What’s wrong?”
Though He Zifeng said nothing, Qiu Yu sensed his mood.
“Nothing.” As a man, He Zifeng was too proud to admit he’d gone to see their son—and come back more heartsick than the child.
But Qiu Yu guessed immediately. “You went to the school?” The candy, the horse—it all made sense.
He Zifeng nodded.
Though visiting wasn’t difficult, they worried it would unsettle the boy. After his first visit, Qiu Yu hadn’t returned, not wanting to distract Ranran from his studies. “Has he lost weight?”
“No. And he’s learning to write.”
Qiu Yu’s eyes sparkled with joy. To parents, every small achievement was a treasure.
“Ranran said to take care of his rabbit.”
“What else?”
“He asked us to pick him up together. Such a little sweet-talker. The moment I arrived, he wanted to be carried. A big four-year-old, still acting like a baby.”
Qiu Yu pretended to pout. “Last time I visited, he didn’t ask to be held.”
“When he’s home, you can hold him as much as you want.”
Qiu Yu lifted his chin. “I’m going to cuddle him all night.”
“With a little dad like you, no wonder Ranran acts young.” He Zifeng’s voice was fond. “When he’s back, we’ll make fried dough twists and cakes for him.”
Qiu Yu added, “And buy a fish. They say fish makes children smarter.”
“Ask Sister Xu about the radish cakes from the next village. Ranran hasn’t tried those yet.”
“Mm. And red bean milk cakes.” Qiu Yu smiled. “He’ll love these sweets.”
With five days until their son’s return, the two fathers were already planning a feast.
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