Chapter 38: How to Eat Wild Geese

Chapter 38: How to Prepare Wild Geese

"I'm already here with you. Wouldn't it be redundant for you to come to my house tomorrow to propose?" Zhao An yearned to utter romantic words, but it felt as if his mouth was stuffed with cotton, allowing only trivial remarks to escape.

However, appearances can be deceiving. While Zhao An found certain things hard to say, Hu Sheng spoke them directly: "Nothing I do for you is redundant. I wish I could give you the entire world, but I cannot. I can only follow ancient customs and present you with a pair of wild geese to bear witness to our love, hoping we remain as devoted and steadfast as these birds, always deeply in love."

Zhao An felt like screaming. Was this man truly from ancient times? How could such sweet words flow so effortlessly from him?

In that moment, all he wanted was to kiss the person before him. But the thought of others watching made him feel a little self-conscious.

Just as Zhao An rose on his tiptoes only to hesitate and retreat, Hu Sheng cupped his chin and kissed him deeply.

In reality, no one dared to watch. Li Dake hadn't even had time to grab his beloved chessboard before his wife dragged him into the kitchen.

Zhao An was kissed until he was breathless, still trying to regain control. Yet, he was swept away, left dazed and disoriented. When the kiss ended, he couldn't help but gaze at Hu Sheng with suspicion.

Though he didn't care about Hu Sheng's experience, Hu Sheng had once told him he was his first man. However, recalling their first intimate moment, Hu Sheng had been so considerate and gentle, which made Zhao An deeply skeptical.

If he had been deceived, a misty layer of tears welled up in Zhao An’s eyes, and he bit Hu Sheng’s shoulder hard. "Even if I find out you lied to me, it seems I still don’t want to leave you," he confessed in despair.

Seeing Zhao An on the verge of tears, Hu Sheng quickly wiped them from his eyes and said tenderly, "What did I lie to you about?"

"You—" Zhao An struggled to articulate it, but under Hu Sheng’s concerned gaze, he finally bit the bullet and blurted out, "Why are you so experienced?"

Hu Sheng parted his lips slightly, chuckled softly, and kissed the corner of Zhao An’s eye. "Didn’t I tell you? When I was young, I was often watched. To avoid being taken advantage of, I had to learn more."

Now it was Zhao An’s turn to feel heartbroken. "I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have doubted you."

"It’s alright, as long as we talk it out," Hu Sheng said, kissing Zhao An again. "Do you want me to take you to see the pair of wild geese?"

"Yes, please," Zhao An agreed. Hu Sheng took his hand and led him outside. Only then did the three people hiding in the kitchen emerge, each patting their chests in relief—such stimulation was too much for their age.

The wild geese were kept in a cage outside their house. Zhao An examined them carefully, confirming they were indeed wild geese, not ducks—their necks thicker and wings stronger.

After observing for a while, Zhao An’s first question was, "How do we cook these?"

"Braised or charcoal-grilled. Wild geese taste similar to ducks, with a gamey flavor, so they’re not suitable for plain boiling," Hu Sheng replied with experience, having often hunted wild geese for meals during his time in the northern frontiers.

While they discussed whether to slaughter the geese at Zhao An’s house the next day, Auntie Zhang had already prepared the first dish: scrambled eggs with scallions, followed by boiled shrimp and two plates of greens.

Dinner that night was quite a spread. Since thousands of people had moved up the mountain, even Hu Sheng had less to eat. Though the strength of thousands was formidable, feeding thousands of mouths was no easy task.

After dinner, the sun had not yet fully set, making it the perfect time to plant the sweet potato vines without needing torches.

When Zhao An and Hu Sheng arrived on the mountain, the 300 people assigned to Group A were each planting cut sweet potato vines in the soil. With so many people, it took less than fifteen minutes to plant all the vines Zhao An had brought, covering about ten acres of land.

Of course, merely planting the vines wasn’t enough. Taking advantage of the last light before dark, the Group A members used rough wooden buckets made from tree roots and trunks to fetch water from the nearby mountain stream, watering the newly planted vines to help them take root.

After everyone had left, Zhao An held Hu Sheng’s hand and slowly walked through the fields.

According to Zhao An’s calculations, the improved sweet potato seeds he developed should yield at least 2,000 jin per acre. Though not comparable to the super varieties of later times that yielded tens of thousands of jin per acre, this was already an excellent variety compared to the current sweet potatoes, which yielded only 700 to 800 jin at most.

Everyone saw Hu Sheng strolling with Zhao An through the fields as if they were just taking a walk after dinner. But they didn’t know that where Zhao An walked, the newly planted sweet potatoes exuded vigorous vitality.

Only Hu Sheng, who had some prior knowledge, carefully observed the seemingly wilted sweet potato vines. While the leaves still drooped, the parts near the soil had turned emerald green. He believed that by the next morning, with the morning breeze, these vines would all turn into lush green seedlings.

It didn’t take long to walk through the ten acres, but by then, the sky had completely darkened. Hu Sheng held Zhao An’s hand and said, "Do you want me to carry you home flying?"

Zhao An automatically wrapped his arms around Hu Sheng’s neck. "Aren’t you coming to my house to propose tomorrow? Why not just take me home now?"

Hu Sheng firmly said, "No," then nuzzled the top of Zhao An’s head. "I’ve been tossing and turning alone these nights. Now that you’re here in my stronghold, how could I easily let you go?"

Truthfully, Zhao An didn’t want to leave either. He, too, found it hard to sleep alone. So, that night, some delightful events naturally unfolded.

The next morning, Hu Sheng brought a dozen trusted men, each carrying heavy loads, and followed Zhao An, Uncle Hai, and Qintong down the mountain.

Hu Sheng and his men walked quickly. Even though each carried over a hundred jin, they had to stop frequently to wait for Zhao An and the others, who carried only empty baskets.

The descent was much faster than their ascent. On one hand, going downhill was naturally quicker than going uphill, and they carried no heavy loads. On the other hand, as Hu Sheng and his men led the way, they trampled the thorns and undergrowth, clearing a temporary path.

This time, Zhao An brought both Uncle Hai and Qintong with him when he left. The villagers, under Liu Huan’s leadership, continued their morning training.

When they saw Zhao An coming down the mountain with this group, villagers immediately asked where he had been the previous night.

Zhao An glanced at the wild geese carried on Hu Sheng’s pole and cheerfully said to the elderly woman who approached him, "I went to deliver betrothal gifts to my partner. Tomorrow, I’ll distribute wedding sweets in the village. But my partner’s family lives in the mountains, and the wedding will be held there, so I won’t be able to host a feast for everyone."

The elderly woman looked at the son of the prime minister, who was marrying a mountain girl and not holding the wedding in the village, her eyes flickering with mixed feelings. But she quickly suppressed them, fearing Zhao An was just acting on a whim and would one day abandon this mountain woman for another, like the infamous Chen Shimei in operas.

Now that the village’s kiln and strawberry seedlings relied on Zhao An, even if she suspected he was deceiving someone into marriage, the old woman said nothing and simply replied with a smile, "Then I’ll look forward to the young master’s wedding sweets."

Zhao An also smiled but had no intention of introducing Hu Sheng to the villagers. On one hand, it was a matter of acceptance; on the other, he wasn’t very familiar with most people in the village. He only planned to tell a few close acquaintances, like Liu Huan, Liu Hu, and the kiln workers he employed, about his marriage to Hu Sheng.

After telling these people, the news would likely spread throughout the village. But Zhao An believed that even if people gossiped privately, they wouldn’t dare say anything to his face.

And that was exactly the effect he wanted—everyone knowing but having to keep it to themselves.

With a large crowd of onlookers following them to his doorstep, Li Dake stepped forward as the matchmaker and read aloud the marriage certificate and dowry list for Zhao An. The marriage certificate was filled with flowery and ornate phrases, so Zhao An never quite figured out the exact wedding date. The villagers didn’t understand much either but marveled at the valuable dowry items displayed.

Only Scholar Zhao, who followed later, discerned that the person marrying Zhao An was named "Hu Sheng," which didn’t sound like a woman’s name. Could it be the sister of this Hu gentleman, a woman of Hu descent?

Though the dowry was lavish, Scholar Zhao frowned. He wanted to step forward and say something but was stopped by Liu Huan, who tugged his sleeve.

Turning around, he saw Liu Huan smiling insincerely. "Scholar, don’t ruin their happy occasion. As the saying goes, 'Better to tear down a temple than break up a marriage.' Besides, you know how formidable that Hu gentleman is. Your walls aren’t as sturdy as Zhao Tongming’s, and your bones are even softer. Don’t be foolish."

If Scholar Zhao didn’t detect the sarcasm in Liu Huan’s remark about his "soft bones," he wouldn’t have deserved his years of education. But though he dared to retort to Liu Huan, one glance at Hu Sheng made him hold his tongue.

Another person who recognized Hu Sheng’s name was, of course, Liu Huan. He and Scholar Zhao had been classmates, but Liu Huan’s family was too poor, and he had to drop out after four years of schooling. He returned home to farm and, in his youth, worked as a porter and peddler for a few years, gaining some worldly experience.

So, was the person marrying the Zhao family’s young master this Hu gentleman? Two men? Liu Huan shuddered but didn’t dare say anything.

He could only join the villagers in applauding the luxurious dowry items, such as the solid gold crown. Though these country folks had recently seen some silver, they had never encountered such a large lump of gold.

There were also silks and satins, not to mention a full set of kitchenware made of fine steel. Using such high-quality steel, which shimmered like silver in sunlight, for kitchen tools was almost wasteful, yet it was still worthy of admiration and cheers.

After the last item, a pair of double-fish jade pendants symbolizing unity, was announced, Li Dake cheerfully handed the dowry list to Zhao An. Then, with a wave to the people behind him, he said, "Light the firecrackers."