Xie Yushu had just received the custom gift boxes when word came from Tang Zhiyi: the batch of laver was selling exceptionally well, and she needed to rush delivery.
The three drying kilns were running at full capacity—kept blazing red through the day and even through the night with overtime shifts. Tray after tray came out, yet supply still couldn’t meet demand.
Beyond the Tang family’s large order, word traveled fast among merchants. Like hyenas catching the scent of meat, they came swarming.
Somehow, news had spread that Xie’s Seafood had a new product—though Xie Yushu hadn’t even announced it publicly, and only the Tang family had inventory.
But some merchants had already gotten their hands on a piece of dried laver, saying it sold even better than dried kelp. They flocked to place orders with Xie Yushu, rushing as if afraid they’d miss out if they were even a quarter-hour late.
Staring at the thick stack of orders, Xie Yushu fell into thought.
She wasn’t some heartless employer. She immediately decided to raise everyone’s wages, with extra pay for night shifts. When the workers heard, their motivation soared—no one complained of exhaustion; they just kept their heads down and worked.
During the day, Xie Yushu led the sorting team in hurriedly packaging the gift boxes. Everyone was seeing such fine, delicate boxes for the first time and handled them with extra care, afraid of damaging them.
Each gift box contained four liang of dried laver.
Four liang didn’t sound like much, but laver was light yet bulky—a large, fully dried sheet weighed only four or five liang. Trying to fit a full jin or half jin into a regular gift box was impossible, and even if it did fit, it wouldn’t look good. So Xie Yushu settled on four liang—neither skimpy nor overstuffed, just right.
She planned to sell each gift box for one hundred and eighty-eight wen—an auspicious number that sounded good.
Four liang of laver cost eighty wen, plus the custom box at twenty wen. Since she’d ordered in bulk, the box maker had given her a good price—originally twenty-eight wen, now twenty. She’d added another eighty-eight wen on top.
This deluxe gift box was aimed squarely at well-off households. With the base’s product quality being so high, she could have sold them for over two hundred wen a box if she’d wanted.
But for now, she wasn’t rushing. The priority was building the brand’s reputation—letting all the ferry merchants know that Xie’s Seafood offered high-quality products with beautiful packaging that made buyers look good, especially during the New Year season.
Once the base was more established and could produce a wider variety, she’d create a premium line—even more refined packaging, with a backstory and matching tagline, and sell them at ten times the price.
She knew well that wealthy families bought for the price tag—set it too low, and they’d think the quality wasn’t good enough.
The sorting area was quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of folding and packaging.
Until a hurried footstep broke the silence.
“Did you close the deal?” Xie Yushu said without looking up, knowing it was Ye Youchun returning.
“Done.”
“The shop’s all cleaned out and the shelves are set up.”
Ye Youchun was slightly out of breath. She pulled a land deed from her robe—the deed to a small shop at the ferry, with a fresh thumbprint still glistening.
She’d just come back from the ferry. Xie Yushu had sent her to find a small shop to serve as a retail outlet for the base’s goods, and she’d just finished negotiating.
“Good—that shop’s yours to manage.”
“These thirty boxes go to the shop this afternoon.” Xie Yushu pointed to the stack of wrapped boxes on the table.
Ye Youchun acknowledged the order: “Got it.”
She turned and walked out without delay.
·
“Now, Auntie, that’s just too much.”
“Oh, Chao Ge’er, how can you say that? It’s almost the New Year—everyone wants to earn a bit extra to help the family. Your boss’s prices are lower than elsewhere, so naturally we’d sell to whoever pays more. Isn’t that right, Chao Ge’er?”
“You—you said you’d always deliver here, and now you’re…” He Chao’s voice grew agitated, at a loss for words.
He’d been working under Xie Yushu for a while now, dealing with honest, straightforward people. She’d taught him that the most important thing in business was integrity, and he’d absorbed those values. But the villagers were illiterate—talk of integrity meant nothing to them. They only cared about copper coins, especially at this time of year.
He Chao hadn’t encountered this kind of person in a long time, and being caught off guard today, he felt a surge of anger—but didn’t know how to vent it. It choked in his chest, suffocating him.
“What’s going on?” A low voice came from the door of the purchasing station. He Chao looked up, as if finding his anchor.
Ye Youchun stepped in from outside, looked at the people inside, and continued. She’d just come from the base to pick up fresh goods for processing when she heard the argument.
He Chao seized the chance to complain: “Auntie says she’s not selling her kelp to us anymore—she’s selling it elsewhere.”
Ye Youchun asked, “Selling to whom?”
He Chao said, “She says she’s selling to the Bai family.”
Ye Youchun had a fierce look about her—she seemed formidable and spoke coldly, her words like shards of ice. The auntie who’d been arguing with He Chao took one look at her and instantly lost her nerve, falling silent.
She’d come carrying a basket of freshly harvested kelp to sell to the Xie family, but just as she was about to hand it over, her daughter had arrived from home and stopped her, saying the Bai family was offering a higher price to buy the kelp and not to sell to Xie. That’s when the argument with He Chao had started.
Ye Youchun was more philosophical than He Chao: “If they want to sell to someone else, let them. We’ll just let them be.”
After the mother and daughter left, He Chao sighed in defeat: “What do we do now? We haven’t received a single strand of kelp today.”
“Is everyone doing this today?”
“Yes. Some came and were called away by their families; others didn’t even show up. We haven’t received a single piece today.”
Ye Youchun went back and reported this strange turn of events to Xie Yushu. Xie Yushu didn’t say much—just told them to keep processing the kelp they already had and focus on rushing the laver. That was the priority right now.
She couldn’t quite figure out where this Bai family had come from or what they wanted.
What, were they trying to get into the dried kelp business too?
Or were they targeting her specifically, trying to cut off her supply chain?
In her months of doing business, she’d never heard of the Bai family. This came out of nowhere, so she had to be on guard.
With her modern mindset, her first thought went to corporate warfare.
Though it was sudden, Xie Yushu wasn’t particularly panicked. Right now, the base’s most important product was dried laver—the year-end profits and employee bonuses all depended on it.
This product wasn’t easy to make, and the drying method she and Aunt Hong had developed was unique, with plenty of careful thought behind it.
Merchants loved to follow trends—if one shop released a hot new product, other profit-driven merchants would swarm in. But Xie Yushu had confidence in her own products. Her methods couldn’t be learned just by looking; they required technical expertise and management support. She wasn’t afraid of being copied overnight.
Even in the worst-case scenario—if someone did copy her—she could just develop something new. The endless stream of product ideas in her mind wasn’t something they could compete with.
At that thought, Xie Yushu felt a wave of relief. The advantage was still with her.
She still planned to sell dried kelp too. Though the profit margin wasn’t as high as laver’s, it was still profitable. She’d already built up a solid base of repeat customers who’d come back for more. She wasn’t about to give up that cash cow.
She was curious to see what this Bai family would do.
Were they deliberately raising purchase prices to lure the villagers to sell to them and cut off her supply? Or were they trying to force her to raise her prices too?
Xie Yushu shook her head with a faint smile. But if she didn’t play along and found another way, wouldn’t all that kelp just rot in the Bai family’s hands?
Trying to starve someone out when you might end up starving yourself—this “hurt a thousand enemies, lose eight hundred of your own” tactic—who in the Bai family had come up with that?
No wonder she’d never heard of them.
As it happened, she’d already been planning to set up her own kelp and laver farm. Buying from villagers wasn’t a long-term solution—unexpected disruptions like this could happen at any moment. After the New Year, she could start moving on that plan.
But everything was piling up one after another—before she could even finish one thing, she had to arrange something this big.
Finding a farm site, training workers, researching cultivation methods—just thinking about it gave her a headache. She reached up and rubbed her tired brow.
Why was there so much to handle at year-end?
It was like a mountain of work crashing down at once.
Xie Yushu slumped into the armchair and let out a long sigh.
By the time she dragged her exhausted body home, all she wanted was to hold Su Chi and breathe in his scent. But she looked in every room—he wasn’t there.
Still at the shop? Or at the Tao household, or the Hu household? She was about to go bring him back when she heard movement at the courtyard gate.
When Su Chi saw she was back, he dropped the bolt and closed the gate securely.
“Where did you go?” Xie Yushu immediately pulled him into a tight embrace, her voice tinged with complaint.
“I was next door at the Yu household chatting. You’re home a bit early today.” Su Chi patted her back in explanation.
He genuinely hadn’t known she’d be back early—she’d been so busy these past few days.
Su Chi was well-liked in the lane, on good terms with several neighboring households.
He would occasionally make some food to share with them, and everyone who tasted it said his cooking was even better than what you could get at restaurants in town. They were honest folks and didn’t take advantage of him—they’d always give him something in return. Over time, they’d all become quite familiar with each other.
There were a few gossipy fulang who privately sneered at the Xie household, but they’d still greet Su Chi with smiling faces and polite words when they saw him.
After all, the Xie family had money. Their fulang even ran a shop. Their small, modest households couldn’t compare.
The meat and vegetables had all been prepped before Su Chi left, so stir-frying them over high heat was quick. Before long, Xie Yushu was eating a hot, freshly cooked meal.
Before bed, Xie Yushu lay on the bed with her eyes closed, breathing evenly—as if she’d actually fallen asleep.
Su Chi slipped in quietly from the warm room. He’d changed into clean underclothes and applied his balms, his whole body soft and moist as if steeped in warm water.
He climbed into bed softly, knowing Xie Yushu wasn’t asleep—just waiting for him.
“Yushu.” Su Chi reached out his right index finger and gently poked her firm shoulder. When she opened her eyes to look at him, he whispered, “Lie on my lap—let me massage you, alright?”
The moment he finished speaking, Xie Yushu didn’t hesitate. She smoothly rested her head on her fulang’s soft thighs—the fluid motion making Su Chi want to laugh.
Not only that, Xie Yushu grabbed his hand to complain about how exhausted she was, how many orders there were, and how her brain cells were dying off.
Her warm head resting on his lap, Su Chi’s heart was full of his wife.
He didn’t know what “cells” were—his wife often said things he didn’t understand—but it didn’t matter. He felt a pang of worry. It must be something that made her feel awful. He decided to go see Wuyou tomorrow to get a calming, restorative prescription to help her recover.
Su Chi’s body was warm and slightly damp from the bath. His hands pressed against Xie Yushu’s temples with gentle pressure, slowly massaging in circles.
The moment his warm fingertips touched her temples, a tingling, soothing sensation spread along her skull, making half her body go weak. A faint, elegant fragrance of balm still lingered on his fingers, drifting lazily to Xie Yushu’s nose—intoxicating.
Because he was leaning down to massage her, they were incredibly close, their breaths intertwining. Their noses occasionally brushed against each other.
Whenever Xie Yushu opened her eyes, she could see Su Chi’s thick, long lashes trembling slightly.
She turned her face toward his lean but soft-as-cotton belly—so soft that if she leaned in just a little, she could bury her face right in it.
And she did exactly that, nuzzling against him without ceremony.
Su Chi giggled at the ticklish sensation, his voice soft and helpless: “Don’t move—if you wiggle around, I can’t massage you properly.”
Xie Yushu said yes with her mouth, but her hands were restless—they snuck around to his lower back, stroking slowly. Her lips were just as unruly, pressing kisses against his belly through the thin layer of cloth, kissing contentedly for a long while.
Nothing relieved stress better than her fulang. Xie Yushu sat up, pulled him into her arms, and kissed him deeply. The room was soon filled with an intimate, languid warmth.
It wasn’t until the dead of night that Xie Yushu got up to feed Su Chi half a cup of water before letting him drift off to sleep.
·
Early the next morning, smoke rose from the Xie household kitchen, the aroma of fried pancakes wafting far down the lane.
Su Chi hadn’t gone to the bun shop early. Instead, he was in the kitchen making breakfast for Xie Yushu.
He ladled out a large bowl of scallion and marrow bone soup for her. On the table sat a stack of old-dough mini buns, a big plate of laver pancakes, and a small dish of chili-oil pickled mustard greens.
The old-dough buns were soft and fluffy, the meat filling trembling inside. Xie Yushu could polish one off in a single bite. Before long, she’d finished two steamers and half a bowl of soup—and still wanted more. Su Chi served her two more laver pancakes.
These were made with the freshly dried laver he’d brought back from the base last time—delicious in soup, fried into meatballs, or made into pancakes. He’d pan-fried them until golden on both sides—crispy and fragrant, with the wheaty aroma of the batter coming through. Su Chi had eaten one whole piece himself before stopping.
One bite of pickled mustard greens, followed by a bite of crispy pancake—Xie Yushu polished off another one.
Soon, a knock came at the courtyard gate. Su Chi went to open it and saw Ye Youchun. He invited her in for breakfast.
Su Chi brought her a large bowl of scallion and marrow bone soup, and told her to help herself to whatever was on the table.
Then he sat down beside Xie Yushu, and the three of them ate breakfast in quiet companionship.
Xie Yushu finished early and just watched Su Chi eat.
Her fulang ate the same way she did—neatly and quietly, without any unpleasant sounds—but in much smaller bites. It was a pleasure to watch.
Suddenly, Xie Yushu’s gaze shifted to Ye Youchun’s face. She made a faint “ugh” face and was about to look away when she noticed Ye Youchun seemed to be holding something back, hesitating to speak.
Curious, she asked: “What’s wrong? Just say it.”
Su Chi also turned, equally curious, his voice gentle: “What’s the matter?”
Ye Youchun hadn’t wanted to bring it up in front of Su Chi, but with both of them staring at her, she decided to just come out with it: “It’s not about me—it’s Uncle Wang.”
“Father? What about Father!” Su Chi put down his chopsticks, his expression tense. Xie Yushu pressed his hand to calm him down.
“Uncle Wang has been hounded by Su Ping and that couple.”
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