After fleeing the famine, my older sister and I married the brother next door.

Su Xiaoyin smiled modestly and handed over the handkerchief, saying that the child had been with her and her aunt since she was little, learning embroidery, managing the shop, and doing accounting. She had also helped a lot with the family's general store. She was hardworking and not the kind of spoiled child who didn't know the value of money. Madam Yang took the handkerchief and examined it from all angles. The stitches were fine and the colors were elegant. The orchid on the corner seemed to exude fragrance. She praised it highly.

Su Xiaoqing chimed in, praising Qingqing as well. Madam Yang was even happier, holding Qingqing's hand tightly, and recounted her son's situation in detail. Yang Wenhu was twenty-two this year, five years older than her. Because he had been frail since childhood, doctors advised him to postpone marriage for a few years until he recovered, which was why it had been delayed until now. Actually, he had recovered quite well in recent years; he ate and slept well, and his complexion was rosy. Last year, he even went to the prefectural city with his father to purchase goods, a round trip of half a month, and he was perfectly fine. He was just an only child, somewhat spoiled, but hadn't developed any bad habits. He didn't gamble, frequent brothels, or drink alcohol; he was just a little quiet and reserved.

As Su Xiaoyin listened, she carefully observed Madam Yang's expression—her eyes were open and honest when she spoke, without any evasion or attempt to embellish anything. Having served many people in the shop over the years, Su Xiaoyin could discern seven or eight parts of a person's sincerity from their eyes and brows. At least in this marriage, Madam Yang's attitude was sincere; she hadn't hidden anything.

Madam Yang called out into the house, and Yang Wenhu came out of the kitchen carrying a plate of pastries. He was dressed in a clean, moon-white long gown, his hair neatly combed. He was of average height and build, neither particularly robust nor thin, but his complexion was very ruddy, and his breathing was steady, unlike someone who was chronically weak. He walked to the stone table, put down the pastries, lowered his head slightly, avoiding eye contact, and his ears turned red. He said softly, "Auntie, Aunt, Miss Chen, please have some pastries," his voice not loud, but each word clear, revealing an honest and unassuming nature.

Looking at him, Su Xiaoyin felt a surge of goodwill. She asked him a few questions—what he did in the shop, what books he liked to read, and what his plans were for the future. Yang Wenhu answered each question patiently, speaking slowly but sincerely. He said he helped with inventory, cashier duties, and customer service in the shop; his father was getting old and wanted to gradually hand over the business to him; he enjoyed reading the *Compendium of Materia Medica* and other agricultural books, finding them useful; and he wanted to run the cloth shop well, to live up to the family name passed down through generations. He then lowered his head, avoiding eye contact. Su Xiaoqing listened, nodding slightly. This man was genuine, sincere, and spoke from the heart.

Su Xiaoqing asked him if he thought Qingqing was a country girl and not good enough for their town's wealth. Yang Wenhu looked up, glanced at Qingqing seriously, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment before quickly shifting away. His voice was urgent and certain: "Never. I've met Qingqing, and I think she's wonderful. What's wrong with being a country girl? My mother was from the countryside too. My father married her, and they lived a very happy life." Madam Yang smiled and nodded beside him, her eyes slightly reddening.

Qingqing kept her head down, her fingers unconsciously tracing the pattern on her cuffs, her face as red as a steamed crab, and she didn't say a word. But Su Xiaoyin noticed that when Yang Wenhu said "I think she's very good," the corners of Qingqing's mouth curved slightly, very slightly, but Su Xiaoyin saw it.

Both sides were very satisfied with the meeting. Madam Yang invited them to stay for lunch, which she personally prepared: four dishes and a soup, including braised fish, scrambled eggs, stir-fried seasonal vegetables, cucumber salad, and a large bowl of pork rib soup, all light and not greasy. During the meal, Madam Yang kept putting food on Qingqing's plate, placing the tenderest piece of meat from the fish's belly into her bowl.

Qingqing also observed Yang Wenhu carefully. He ate at a moderate pace, without smacking his lips or rummaging through the food. When his chopsticks touched a bone, he used his other hand to catch it. After finishing, he neatly placed his bowl and chopsticks on the table. These subtle actions were more convincing than any words. Qingqing felt that she could give this person a try.

Qingqing had her own considerations. She was seventeen this year, and it was only because her family doted on her that they hoped she could stay at home for a few more years; otherwise, in the village, it was common for people to be engaged at fourteen, and many were married and had children by sixteen. She also had to consider her brothers—Shitou, Aji, and Afu were all still unmarried, especially Shitou and Aji, who had achieved academic success, and the families arranging marriages valued family background and reputation. If she didn't marry soon, outsiders would think there was something wrong with the Chen family's daughter, which wouldn't sound good. When her sister-in-law married into the family, seeing a younger sister-in-law of such an advanced age waiting to be married, she might not say it, but she might not be happy. Getting married now would be better for everyone.

Besides, the Yang family lives in town, less than half an hour's drive from the village, so she can come back anytime she misses home. The Yang family owns a cloth shop and is quite well-off. They only have one son, and the family fortune will all go to Yang Wenhu in the future. She knows embroidery, business, and accounting—she's worked at the general store for so many years, and she can calculate faster than Su Xiaoqing. These skills will come in handy at the Yang family's cloth shop. Qingqing thought she'd get to know him first, and if they get along, they could settle down. Madam Yang didn't seem like the kind of wicked mother-in-law; her eyes were gentle, and she spoke softly, not like someone who would mistreat her daughter-in-law.

When they got home, it was almost dark. Mr. Chen was sitting in the main room smoking a pipe, while Mrs. Chen was sewing shoe soles under the lamp. Neither of them had gone to sleep, waiting for them to return. Su Xiaoyin recounted the details of the day's matchmaking in detail, from the Yang family's shop to the backyard, from Mrs. Yang to Yang Wenhu, describing in detail his expression when he came out with the snacks, the tone of his voice when answering questions, and his every move during the meal.

Chen's mother put down the shoe sole, looked at Qingqing, and said in a low but serious voice, "Qingqing, how do you feel? This isn't something we elders can just agree on; you have to agree yourself. You're the one who has to live your life, not us to live it for you."

Qingqing looked up at her grandmother. The candlelight illuminated her face, making it appear rosy. She was silent for a moment before speaking, her voice low but clear, each word as if weighed down.

"Grandma, I think he's alright. I don't dislike Yang Wenhu. He doesn't talk much, but he's honest and not the kind of person who uses sweet talk. I've also met Madam Yang; she speaks kindly and her eyes don't betray you. She's not the kind of person who says one thing to your face and another behind your back. I feel like she won't mistreat her daughter-in-law." Qingqing paused, her voice lowering slightly, "And Grandma, I'm seventeen this year, it's time for me to get engaged."