The success with Madam Zhao marked a turning point. Li Wei's bold move had earned them sixteen coppers, a small fortune for a single week's work, and an established, if grudging, partnership. The money was a relief, but the deeper change was in the atmosphere of the Guo household.
That evening, the home didn't feel like a temporary prison; it felt like a shared project. As Fucheng mended the fence outside, Li Wei cooked a simple but rich dinner: millet stewed with the remaining dried pork, flavored with a light hand of their new spice blend, and served with blanched wild greens.
Fucheng sat down at the low table, the exhaustion of farm work etched on his face, yet his dark eyes held a quiet happiness. He ate slowly, savoring the food.
"This may coppers for a pinch of dirt," he chuckled, breaking the comfortable silence. "You are a wonder, Xiu'er."
"It's not dirt, it's knowledge," Li Wei corrected gently, though she returned his soft smile. "And it's only the start. We have capital now. We need to turn it into community. We cannot rely on just one buyer."
"Community?" Fucheng looked skeptical. "The village is cautious. They know your family sold you, and they see a scholar's daughter who doesn't fit in. That is why they avoid us."
Li Wei understood the isolation. But she also knew a truth Fucheng didn't: The shortest path to a person's trust is through their stomach.
"I have a plan for the village," she said, leaning forward. "Tomorrow is the mid-week holiday. We will host a meal."
Fucheng's jaw dropped. "A meal? For whom? We cannot afford to feed the whole village!"
"Not the whole village. Just three families: the Wang family next door, the elder Chen who manages the water supply, and the Luo family who sells chickens. We will invite them for a simple dinner. Not a feast, just a shared hearth."
The Unconditional Invitation
The next day, Fucheng, hesitant but obedient, delivered the invitations. The farmers were suspicious, but curious. That evening, as the sun dipped below the hills, the three invited families arrived, their faces stiff with uncertainty.
Li Wei greeted them in the courtyard, wearing her cleanest clothes and her most sincere smile. She looked fragile but composed.
"Welcome," she said warmly, gesturing to the three simple mats laid out. "My husband and I thank you for honoring our home. It is a simple meal, but it is cooked with care."
The food she prepared was deliberately rustic, not the complicated haute cuisine she could manage, but elevated versions of their own familiar dishes Steamed Buns, Braised Chicken and Mushrooms braised slowly with wild mushrooms foraged by Fucheng, seasoned with rice wine and rich soy sauce, giving the meat a fall-off-the-bone tenderness and profound flavor.
The villagers old Elder Chen, the skeptical Madam Wang, and the taciturn Mr. Luo took their seats, maintaining a strained silence.
Then, they tasted the food.
The silence was replaced by appreciative sounds of eating. The braised chicken was the turning point. Madam Wang, known for her sharp tongue, took a large bite and her eyes widened.
"This chicken," she exclaimed, wiping her mouth. "It is the best I have ever eaten. It falls apart! My own chicken never tastes like this."
"It is all thanks to your excellent ingredients, Madam Wang," Li Wei replied graciously. "The secret is slow cooking and a controlled heat. Guo Fucheng built our stove perfectly; the heat holds true for hours."
Fucheng, usually silent in company, beamed with quiet pride.
As the evening wore on, the formality melted away. The villagers weren't just eating Li Wei's food; they were observing the couple. They saw how Li Wei subtly ensured Fucheng had the largest portion, and how Fucheng, in turn, watched her carefully, refilling her water and protecting her from the drafts. They saw unconditional love displayed not through grand gestures, but through small, consistent acts of mutual care.
Elder Chen, having finished his third bowl of soup, sighed happily. "The town talked, Xiu'er. They said you would not last a month, that you would scorn the farm and your husband. But you feed us better than any wealthy house I know, and you look at Fucheng with… respect."
Li Wei took a deep breath. This was her chance.
"I have no interest in the past," she said sincerely. "My family is here, with Fucheng. I am learning from him about the land, and I bring what I know of flavor to our home. We want to be a part of this village. If you have any herbs, excess eggs, or extra vegetables, we would pay a fair price for them. We are building a spice business, and we need partners we can trust."
The tension in the room lifted completely. Madam Wang immediately offered her excess cucumbers. Mr. Luo, the chicken seller, offered them a better deal on the poultry. They weren't just neighbors anymore; they were potential suppliers, partners in her success.
As the villagers departed, full and happy, Li Wei stood in the courtyard with Fucheng. He pulled her gently against his side, his arm heavy and warm across her shoulders.
"They accepted us, Xiu'er," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You did this. You took their suspicion and turned it into friendship with a few bowls of soup."