Ch 3: Transmigrated to become a Koi Husband

“Don’t move around,” Qin Zhao said, pinching Jing Li’s body between two fingers. “You’re still injured.”

Jing Li had completely forgotten about his injury.

The water helped to numb the pain, and since the area where his scales had been removed was on his side, neither his fins nor his tail touched it, so he didn’t feel any pain.

Seeing the little fish’s dumbfounded look, Qin Zhao realized that Jing Li had forgotten about his injury.

He lowered his gaze and gently ran his finger over the injured area. Where there had once been bright red scales, a few were now missing, revealing soft, pale pink skin.

Ouch, ouch, ouch—!

Jing Li’s tail trembled from the pain, and his body wriggled in Qin Zhao’s grasp.

In this era, there was no systematic fish farming, and fishing was the main source of fish. No one would think of treating a fish’s wounds, especially in such a remote mountain village.

Even if they wanted to treat it, there were no medicines available.

Fortunately, fish have a strong ability to heal themselves, and the little koi’s wound wasn’t too deep; there was no bleeding, and once the scales grew back, it would be fine.

After checking the little koi’s injury, Qin Zhao put him back in the water.

Jing Li wiggled his tail and retreated to the bottom of the bucket.

Why does this man keep picking on a poor fish?

“Not going to talk to me anymore?” Qin Zhao tapped the edge of the bucket with his knuckles, speaking leisurely. “Do you know why I haven’t let you go? I’m a stingy person, and today I spent fifteen coins to buy you. If you don’t repay that money, I won’t let you go.”

“Little fish, you should think carefully about how you’re going to compensate me.”

Jing Li quietly floated up to the surface.

Qin Zhao had saved his life, so naturally, he wanted to repay the favor. But now he was just a fish and couldn’t turn back into a human. He couldn’t even go out to earn money.

How could he possibly repay him…

In the few days since he transmigrated, Jing Li had tried to transform back into a human, but he hadn’t succeeded once.

It seemed that aside from having a human soul and memories, he was no different from the ordinary little fish that could be found everywhere in this world.

Jing Li felt a deep sense of despair.

The little koi fretted in the water, and Qin Zhao tapped his head again. “Actually, I have an idea.”

Jing Li looked up.

What idea?

Qin Zhao’s expression was serious and sincere as he said slowly, “How about this: once I’ve raised you big and strong, you can repay me by producing some little fish? You… should be a female fish, right?”

As he spoke, his finger pointed suggestively toward Jing Li’s lower abdomen.

!!!

Where does this man think he’s touching!!!

And besides, he’s male! He can’t possibly produce little fish!

Jing Li was both angry and flustered and bit down on Qin Zhao’s finger.

But the little koi had only a row of tiny teeth, and the bite was neither painful nor threatening in the least.

Qin Zhao couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

Jing Li: “…”

Teasing him again—how bored is this man, seriously!

Qin Zhao was about to tease him some more when suddenly there was a knock on the door from outside.

“Herbs for sale—anyone home?”

Qin Zhao restrained his smile and turned to open the door.

Standing at the door was a young boy, about ten years old, with a basket on his back. He respectfully greeted Qin Zhao, “Mr. Qin, my master sent me to collect the herbs.”

The boy’s name was A-Wen, an apprentice to the only herbalist in a nearby village. Every two weeks, he would go around the surrounding villages to collect herbs.

These villages relied on the mountains for their livelihood, where medicinal herbs were abundant. When there was no farming to be done, the villagers often went up the mountain to gather herbs.

If they had the means, like Lin Lao’er, they could use an ox cart to transport the herbs to town, where they could fetch a higher price. However, the pharmacies in town bought herbs in large quantities and had very high standards for quality, so they rarely purchased unprocessed herbs from farmers.

As a result, farmers preferred to sell to the local doctor, even if the price was lower. At least it saved them the cost of transportation and processing.

In front of others, Qin Zhao returned to his usual gentle and kind demeanor. He retrieved several bundles of herbs, which had already been sorted and prepared, and handed them to the boy.

The boy carefully counted the herbs and smiled, “As always, Mr. Qin’s herbs are of excellent quality. We’ll take all of these.”

He handed a string of coins to Qin Zhao, who nodded and asked, “Why is there an extra fifteen coins?”

“It’s not extra. My master said that Mr. Qin’s herbs are of such good quality that he instructed me before I left to increase the price by ten percent for anything from your household starting today.”

Why would they suddenly raise the price?

Qin Zhao’s eyes flickered slightly, sensing that something was odd.

However, small village businesses often worked this way, offering a bit of extra profit to farmers they had good relationships with, benefiting both sides.

Qin Zhao didn’t say much more, simply nodding and saying, “Thank you.”

The boy packed the herbs into his basket and added, “Oh, and my master also mentioned that the next few days are ideal for gathering herbs. If Mr. Qin can collect more, the price can go up even further.”

Qin Zhao nodded in agreement and saw the boy out.

Jing Li lay by the edge of the bucket, peering outside.

A single copper coin is worth one wen, and one hundred coins make up a string. Along with some loose coins, there were a total of one hundred sixty-five wen on the table.

Jing Li had watched closely just now and saw that Qin Zhao had brought out three or four types of herbs, each bundle containing about ten stalks—so not a large quantity.

It seemed that even though he couldn’t work in the fields, the sickly man had his own way of making a living.

No wonder he could afford the cost of his medicine.

After sending off the herbal apprentice, Qin Zhao kept an eye on the simmering medicine by the stove for a while, then went into the inner room.

On the stove, the fire crackled and burned brightly, filling the room with a rich medicinal aroma.

Jing Li swam around in the bucket, feeling a bit bored.

As a fish, his movements were limited, and he couldn’t go far. Without Qin Zhao around to play with him, he didn’t know what to do.

What is Qin Zhao doing…

Jing Li waited for a long time, but Qin Zhao still didn’t come out. Eventually, he couldn’t resist the drowsiness and started to doze off in the water.

That is, until a faint smell of burning filled the air.

The fire under the stove was still burning vigorously, and the lid of the medicine pot was being pushed up repeatedly by the steam, with a ring of medicinal liquid spilling over the edges.

Jing Li snapped awake.

If it continued like this, the medicine pot would boil dry.

What on earth is Qin Zhao doing?

Jing Li swam around frantically, his tail repeatedly slapping the water’s surface, trying to splash water to get Qin Zhao’s attention. But the curtain to the bedroom remained quiet and undisturbed, with no sound of movement.

Suddenly, Jing Li remembered Qin Zhao’s pale complexion, and his actions came to a halt.

Qin Zhao’s health was poor; after walking so much on the way back from town today and being exposed to the cold mountain wind, could it be that…

The more Jing Li thought about it, the more worried he became. He steeled himself and gave his tail a strong flick, jumping out of the bucket.

Perhaps due to his former human self, Jing Li’s physical abilities were much stronger than those of an ordinary little fish. If not for this, he wouldn’t have survived the fishmonger’s knife.

He jumped down from the table and hopped toward the bedroom, leaving a trail of water behind him.

The bedroom was small, with a wooden bed leaning against the wall, and a writing desk with a low stool by the window.

There was nothing else in the room.

The light inside was dim, and Qin Zhao lay on the wooden bed, his brows furrowed unconsciously. The faint color in his lips had faded, and his cheeks were slightly flushed.

He was indeed sick.

Jing Li hopped closer, but the injury on his side hindered his movement, and it took considerable effort to finally make it onto the pillow.

Qin Zhao looked even more handsome when he was asleep.

His facial features appeared even more striking and defined in the dim light of the room. The corners of his eyes had a slight flush due to the fever, and at the very end of his eye was a faintly colored small cinnabar mole.

Jing Li stared, momentarily entranced.

He couldn’t fathom why someone like this would be ostracized.

Qin Zhao had a gentle and kind personality but lacked the pedantic dullness of ancient scholars. Someone as good as him—if not for his poor health—would surely capture the hearts of countless men and women.

They must be taking advantage of his good temper to bully him.

Jing Li thought angrily as he propped himself up and gently touched Qin Zhao’s cheek with his cold fin.

But he quickly withdrew it after being scalded by the heat.

He couldn’t let the fever continue like this.

Without worrying about whether he would be suspected, Jing Li slapped Qin Zhao’s face with all his might.

Don’t sleep, wake up! You need to take your medicine first!

But Qin Zhao’s fever was so severe that he seemed completely unconscious. No matter how much Jing Li slapped him, he couldn’t wake him up.

…Well, then he couldn’t be blamed.

Jing Li braced himself, spread his fins, took a deep breath, and jumped up, swinging his tail with all his strength.

Smack—!

The tail landed squarely on Qin Zhao’s face, leaving a faint red mark on his thin skin.

But still, there was no response.

He still won’t wake up???

Jing Li grew more anxious and frustrated. He couldn’t stay out of the water for too long, and by now, after all this effort, the suffocating feeling from lack of water was creeping in, making it increasingly difficult to open his gills.

He couldn’t delay any longer.

Jing Li took a deep breath and, with even greater force than before, launched himself into the air, his tail raised high.

But just as he was about to strike again, Qin Zhao suddenly opened his eyes, locking gazes with Jing Li.

It was like waking from a nightmare. A thin layer of sweat covered Qin Zhao’s forehead, and his expression was markedly different from usual.

The warmth and kindness that had previously characterized him were gone, replaced by a cold and wary look that made his narrow, deep-set eyes appear even more chilling.

And much more unfamiliar.

Jing Li shivered under the intensity of Qin Zhao’s stare, lost his balance, and tumbled lightly onto the bed.

For a long moment, the room was silent, the only sound coming from the crackling fire outside.

Jing Li lay on Qin Zhao’s chest, and it took him a while to realize that he was trembling slightly.

There was no denying it—Qin Zhao in this state was… a bit terrifying.

The man and the fish stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, the coldness in Qin Zhao’s eyes faded, and he returned to his usual self.

Slowly, he touched his cheek where the fresh red mark lingered, still damp.

“You…” Whether it was due to the fever or the sheer bewilderment of the situation, Qin Zhao’s expression was one of confusion. “…Did you hit me?”

Jing Li: “…”

Uh… is there still a chance for him to explain?