Ch 26: Transmigrated to become a Koi Husband

Jing Li looked up at Qin Zhao, his innocent eyes blinking, before lowering his head without giving an immediate response.

Qin Zhao’s fingers, hanging at his side, curled slightly.

The words he’d just spoken were indeed somewhat forward, and as soon as they left his mouth, Qin Zhao felt a twinge of regret.

Earlier, when he’d claimed the little guy as his husband in front of the villagers, it was only because the boy was lying on his bed in that state. If he hadn’t said that, it would have inevitably aroused suspicion.

But now?

How much of what he said was a joke, and how much was sincere? Qin Zhao himself couldn’t say for sure.

Qin Zhao had never considered himself a frivolous person.

Since losing his memory and ending up in this place, he’d always told himself to be cautious and careful. But ever since he met this little fish, those principles had been repeatedly broken.

Whenever he was around this little guy, Qin Zhao couldn’t resist the urge to tease him, to see him show even more adorable expressions.

But as he watched the little fish seriously consider his words, Qin Zhao couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious.

How would he respond?

The room was silent for a long time as the little guy kept his head down, thinking deeply. His bare toes gently tapped the floor, just like the way his fish tail used to lightly splash the water when he was zoning out.

Having been a fish for so long, it was hard to break the habit even after turning into a human.

After a while, Qin Zhao finally couldn’t bear the silence any longer and softly said, “If you don’t want to—”

“I don’t mind at all!” Jing Li immediately interrupted him, sounding a bit nervous. “It’s okay, no matter what you want, I’m fine with it. I don’t mind.”

Qin Zhao was taken aback.

In that moment, it was as if something inside him had broken free, and the uncertainty he had felt seemed to melt away.

“You…” Qin Zhao’s voice was slightly hoarse, “Are you serious?”

“Of course I’m serious!” Jing Li’s tone was firm. “I’ll keep my word and fulfill your wish, as long as you don’t make me leave…”

Qin Zhao asked, “Are you really that afraid of me making you leave?”

“Yes…” Jing Li replied, “I have no family or friends here. If you don’t take me in, I don’t know where I’d go.”

Fearing that Qin Zhao might still not agree, he quickly added, “Don’t worry, I’ll learn to earn money, help with housework and farm work. I won’t just freeload off you.”

Seeing the little fish so serious for once, Qin Zhao gently patted his head.

“It’s alright,” Qin Zhao said, “You don’t need to force yourself to do those things.”

He walked to the wardrobe, took out a pair of shoes, and returned to the bed, kneeling down. “These clothes don’t fit you well. Tonight, I’ll take your measurements, and tomorrow I’ll go to town to get you some new ones made.”

“Okay!”

He helped Jing Li put on the shoes, then pulled him up. “Come on, I’ll make you something to eat.”

Jing Li was particularly enthusiastic now. He obediently grabbed a stool and sat down by the stove, his eyes fixed intently on Qin Zhao.

Watching Qin Zhao cook had always been one of Jing Li’s few pastimes, and even now, having turned into a human, he couldn’t break the habit.

He didn’t think anything was odd about it, but Qin Zhao certainly did.

After all… having a fish watching you from nearby was completely different from having a person watching you.

Especially with those eyes…

Qin Zhao resisted the urge, taking a deep breath. “Little fish.”

Jing Li: “Hmm?”

“Stop looking at me.”

“?” Jing Li blinked, not asking further, but obediently turned around. “Is this better?”

—A clear sign of someone who knows they’re dependent on others and needs to behave.

Qin Zhao: “…”

Jing Li kept his head down, stretching out his legs as his toes playfully wiggled up and down out of boredom.

He was only wearing Qin Zhao’s long robe, tied loosely at the waist, but the hem couldn’t quite cover everything. His slender, straight legs peeked out with every movement, faintly visible beneath the fabric.

He found his long hair bothersome, so he gathered it all and draped it over one shoulder, exposing a small, smooth patch of his pale neck.

The oversized collar of the robe was slightly loose, and if Qin Zhao got any closer, he might catch a glimpse of what lay beneath.

For the first time, Qin Zhao didn’t dare turn his head, making cooking a much more difficult task than usual.

With most of the remaining vegetables used up to feed the workers helping build the house, there wasn’t much left in the kitchen. Today, Qin Zhao had little interest in making anything fancy. He simply stir-fried two dishes and steamed a plate of buns before setting them on the table.

Jing Li, already starving, didn’t bother complaining about the lack of meat. He focused solely on eating, head down and fully engaged.

His appetite had grown considerably along with his body. Though not as large as the farmhands working outside, it was still quite hearty.

Qin Zhao observed him carefully, roughly estimating the future daily food consumption in their household.

After their meal, as Qin Zhao washed the dishes by the stove, Jing Li sat at the table, resting his chin in his hands, feeling unusually troubled.

He watched Qin Zhao’s movements, pondering for a while, before nervously calling out, “Qin Zhao…”

“Hmm?” Qin Zhao didn’t turn around.

“Well… I want to ask you something, but don’t get mad,” Jing Li hesitated. “I’m not trying to back out of our deal now that I’m full. I’m just not entirely sure… um, could you tell me, what does ‘fulang’ mean?”

Qin Zhao’s hand slipped, nearly dropping the dishes.

“You mean… you don’t know what ‘fulang’ means?” Qin Zhao asked, his voice tight. “Then earlier you…”

“I’ve never heard that word before…” Jing Li mumbled quietly, then added, “But whatever it is, I’ll find a way to fulfill your wish. You can trust me!”

Qin Zhao: “…”

Qin Zhao almost laughed out of exasperation.

So, when this little guy was thinking it over earlier, it wasn’t because he felt Qin Zhao was being forward, or because he was debating whether to agree.

He simply didn’t understand what Qin Zhao meant.

In this era, a “fulang” wasn’t an uncommon term. In fact, in more affluent places, male companionship was popular, with some nobility even gifting male concubines to each other.

Qin Zhao had considered everything except for the possibility that the little fish wouldn’t know what the term meant.

Despite being able to navigate life in this unfamiliar mountain village, this was the first time Qin Zhao didn’t know what to do with the person in front of him.

This guy is really…

Jing Li felt too guilty to look at Qin Zhao’s face.

He hadn’t lied earlier. No matter what Qin Zhao asked, he would try his best to fulfill it. But given the situation, how could he have had the chance to ask more questions?

What if Qin Zhao thought he was making excuses and decided to kick him out right then and there?

First, calm him down, have a good meal together, then sit down and discuss it calmly.

Wasn’t that the best way to solve things?

That’s what Jing Li was thinking.

After a long silence, Qin Zhao finally spoke again, “Alright, if you don’t know, then let it go. No need to worry about it.”

“How can that be?” Jing Li protested, “I promised to help you achieve it. My word is my bond. I won’t go back on it.”

Qin Zhao, who was already familiar with his stubborn nature, calmly said, “It’s fine. I won’t kick you out.”

“…Really?”

Qin Zhao: “Yes, really.”

“Thank you!”

Jing Li immediately brightened up.

If he were still in his fish form, his tail would probably be wagging furiously behind him.

Qin Zhao couldn’t help but smile wryly.

What else could he do? He was the one who decided to save this little guy in the first place.

He would just have to deal with it.

As for other matters… there was plenty of time in the future.

Late at night, Qin Zhao, as usual, was reading under the dim light of a lamp.

Jing Li was curled up at the foot of the bed, hugging a blanket, and yawned sleepily.

“If you’re tired, just go to sleep. You don’t need to wait for me,” Qin Zhao said without looking up.

“I’m not tired.” Jing Li rubbed his eyes, then crawled over to the edge of the desk and peeked at what Qin Zhao was reading. “What are you reading?”

“Zhou Li,” Qin Zhao replied.

“The Book of Rites?”

Qin Zhao turned to look at him. “Have you studied before?”

“Uh… not exactly,” Jing Li answered hesitantly.

If it was about books from this era, he hadn’t studied them, but he had learned some things in modern society.

The “Book of Rites” consists of three parts: “Yi Li,” “Zhou Li,” and “Li Ji.” It’s one of the “Five Classics” and has always been part of the ancient imperial examination curriculum.

But that’s about all Jing Li knew.

He thought for a moment and then asked, “Are you planning to take the imperial exams?”

“Would you like me to?”

“Of course,” Jing Li replied. “You’re so talented, you’ll definitely pass on the first try. Once you pass, you can become an official, and then you won’t have to worry about food and drink anymore!”

Qin Zhao couldn’t help but laugh, “Still thinking about food.”

“It’s not just about food,” Jing Li said. “In ancient times, the path of an official was highly valued. Being an official would surely be better than staying here!”

Qin Zhao: “Ancient times?”

“Uh… I mean, the previous dynasty. Yes, the previous dynasty,” Jing Li hastily covered up.

Qin Zhao replied, “The previous dynasty didn’t focus on the path of an official. You’re probably referring to when the former emperor was on the throne.”

Jing Li froze.

Qin Zhao continued softly, “During the former emperor’s reign, the government heavily promoted the path of an official, expanded the enrollment of students, and encouraged scholars to pursue official careers to serve the country. This did bring in many talented individuals, but it also had clear drawbacks.”

“It led to the neglect of military affairs, resulting in a significant reduction in military strength. Moreover, the officials selected through this system often formed factions, protected one another, and oppressed the common people…”

Noticing that Jing Li had suddenly gone quiet, Qin Zhao stopped speaking and looked at him, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I was just thinking…” Jing Li asked, “Why do you know all this so well? Did you used to be an official?”

“An official?” Qin Zhao shook his head, “I don’t remember.”

He lifted his eyes and gazed out the window.

The moonlight outside was just right, casting a hazy glow over the distant mountains and forests, making them appear ethereal and indistinct. Qin Zhao quietly watched, as if through that scene, he was seeing some far-off, deeper memories.

Suddenly, a sharp pain surged through Qin Zhao’s mind.

“Qin Zhao!” Jing Li quickly steadied him.

Qin Zhao leaned forward on the desk, his fingers gripping the edge tightly, his knuckles turning white from the strain.

Qin Zhao’s desk was right by the bed, so Jing Li, kneeling at the foot of the bed, only had to bend over to hold him. He leaned over and embraced Qin Zhao firmly, feeling the body in his arms tremble violently, as if enduring some unbearable pain.

After a moment, Qin Zhao finally calmed down.

“I’m fine…” Qin Zhao’s voice was hoarse, with a hint of self-mockery. “I’m used to it.”

Jing Li patted his back gently, trying to comfort him, “If you can’t remember, don’t force it. It’s okay.”

“Yes, I understand.”

Qin Zhao wiped the light sweat from his forehead and soon recovered. “But you’re right; I do feel that I might indeed have some connection to those things.”

Jing Li asked, “So, are you taking the imperial exams to try to find your memories by going back?”

Qin Zhao was silent for a moment, then looked at him.

Jing Li: “?”

“No, that’s not it,” Qin Zhao said seriously, reopening the book. “It’s because I realized today that with my current income, I probably can’t afford to support a certain little fish.”

“…So, to make sure a certain fish doesn’t worry about food, I need to work harder.”

Jing Li: “…”

He doesn’t eat that much, does he???

The night deepened, and the oil lamp grew dimmer. Qin Zhao finally closed the book.

Behind him, the person had fallen silent at some point. When he turned around, he saw that the young boy had already fallen asleep, clutching the blanket.

Jing Li had a baby face, his features delicate and cute, making him look much younger than his actual age.

He held the blanket in his arms, his slender arms emerging from sleeves that had been rolled up several times, with skin as fair as porcelain adorned with a few fish scales.

Perhaps he had stayed in his human form for too long today, as a few fish scales had appeared on Jing Li’s forehead, glistening under the dim light.

Qin Zhao lowered his head, gazing at him intently.

The little guy looked just like he did in Qin Zhao’s dreams, no, even better.

Who would have thought that the fifteen coins he spent would bring him such a beautiful little guy?

Qin Zhao watched him for a while, and unable to resist, reached out to lightly touch the fish scales on Jing Li’s forehead.

The cool sensation spread through his fingertips, making Jing Li shrink back and bury his head in the blanket to hide: “It tickles…”

Qin Zhao didn’t let him off and pinched that soft, round face.

The texture was indeed as soft as he’d imagined.

“Ugh… what are you doing…” Jing Li mumbled in a sleepy voice, barely opening his eyes as he tried to figure out what was happening.

Qin Zhao sat by the bed and raised his chin, “This bed is only so big. You’ve taken up so much space. Where am I supposed to sleep?”

Jing Li rubbed his eyes and looked over.

The bed in Qin Zhao’s home was indeed not very large. It had some extra space for one person but would be a tight fit for two grown men.

Jing Li was occupying the center of the bed, leaving hardly any room for Qin Zhao even to sit.

Still not fully awake, Jing Li blinked in confusion and asked, “So, what should we do?”

Seeing Jing Li’s groggy state, Qin Zhao couldn’t resist the urge to tease him a bit. “Scoot over a bit; we’ll make do tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll go to the village and get a bigger bed made.”

After all, to the villagers, Jing Li was now considered his husband, so it wouldn’t be strange for him to get a bigger bed.

Jing Li hesitated for a while, rubbing his eyes as he slowly woke up from his drowsiness.

The bed was indeed small, and squeezing two people in would definitely be uncomfortable.

He didn’t sleep well, and what if he accidentally pushed the sickly Qin Zhao off the bed at night, causing him to fall ill again? Qin Zhao already had enough on his plate, trying to keep the household running; he didn’t want to add to his troubles.

Jing Li then said, “No need, just wait for me!”

With that, Jing Li jumped out of bed without even putting on his shoes, lifted the blanket, and ran out of the room.

Qin Zhao, sensing what Jing Li was about to do, was about to stop him, but before he could say anything, he saw Jing Li already rushing back in with the small wooden tub. He placed it on the desk.

In the next moment, a flash of red light filled the room, and with a splash, a bright red koi fish jumped into the tub filled with water.

Clothes were strewn all over the floor.

The little koi swam in the water, wagging its tail at Qin Zhao. “There, this is better!”

Then, as if surprised by something, the little koi froze. “Huh? Why can I still talk?”

Qin Zhao: “…”

Qin Zhao was at a loss for words.

He sighed silently, bent down to pick up the clothes scattered on the floor, and gently patted the little koi’s head.

“Go to sleep then. Goodnight.”