Ch 32: Transmigrated to become a Koi Husband

“Neither this nor that works. Do you even know what kind of person he likes?” Chen Yanan asked.

“I…” Jing Li hesitated.

Chen Yanan widened his eyes. “You haven’t even asked him, have you? How are you going to help him find someone?”

Jing Li felt a bit guilty and replied quietly, “I just thought… I’d filter through some options first myself…”

Chen Yanan suddenly had a look of realization.

He leaned in a bit closer and said, “Why don’t you write him a letter and ask? Since you’re looking for a man for your brother, it has to be according to his preferences. What’s the use of you fretting over it by yourself?”

“But…”

“Not really keen on asking, huh?” Chen Yanan raised an eyebrow, his tone slightly teasing.

Jing Li averted his gaze.

“I knew it. You don’t actually want to find someone for him,” Chen Yanan said. “My sister got married early, and I was the same way when I was looking for a husband for her.”

Jing Li asked, “How so?”

“This family’s financial situation wasn’t good enough, that one’s personality didn’t match—no one seemed right, and I felt like no one was good enough for her. I didn’t even want to ask her who she really liked,” Chen Yanan said thoughtfully. “I found all sorts of excuses, but really, I just didn’t want to let her go, I couldn’t bear it.”

Chen Yanan raised an eyebrow at Jing Li and smiled. “Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing, pulling me in here to talk so much?”

Jing Li: “…”

Jing Li turned his head away, his ears turning slightly red. “I’m not like you.”

“How are you not like me?” Chen Yanan put on the air of someone who had been through it all and said earnestly, “You have to relax a bit. Even the closest siblings will eventually have to start their own families. You’re already married; don’t you want your brother to find happiness too?”

“I…”

Jing Li lowered his head.

Was Chen Yanan right? Was he… just not willing for Qin Zhao to find a husband?

But that’s Qin Zhao’s wish…

Seeing that Jing Li’s mood was off, Chen Yanan quickly moved to comfort him. “Hey, don’t be upset. If Qin Zhao comes back and thinks I bullied you, I’ll be in big trouble. I’ll stop talking, okay? I—”

“I’m not upset,” Jing Li interrupted him. “It’s not like you said. I’ll ask him—I’ll ask him right away!”

“What are you going to ask?”

The door creaked open, and Chen Yanan quickly took half a step back, looking guilty. “Qin Zhao, we didn’t do anything!”

Qin Zhao: “…”

Jing Li: “…”

Of course, Qin Zhao wasn’t going to misunderstand anything. He just gave Chen Yanan a brief look before placing the items he was carrying on the stove.

“Wow, you bought meat again!” Chen Yanan’s eyes widened. “That’s a whole chicken—how much did that cost?”

Qin Zhao didn’t respond to that and instead asked, “What were you two talking about just now?”

Chen Yanan blurted out, “Nothing much. Your fulang said he wanted to—”

“Uh-huh!” Jing Li coughed forcefully, giving Chen Yanan a significant look.

Chen Yanan: “?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, nothing at all…” Chen Yanan quickly corrected himself. “We were just chatting, just having a casual conversation.”

Qin Zhao’s gaze swept slowly over the two of them.

These two sillies seemed to be cut from the same cloth.

He didn’t expose them, instead asking, “What brings you here?”

“Oh, right, I came to see you for something,” Chen Yanan finally remembered his purpose. “Today is a rest day for the private school; you didn’t forget that you promised to tutor me, did you?”

Qin Zhao nodded.

The private school had a rest day every ten days, with additional days off on certain official holidays. Qin Zhao had previously agreed to tutor Chen Yanan on these rest days, and he hadn’t forgotten.

There wasn’t a separate study in the house, and the bedroom wasn’t suitable for Chen Yanan to enter, so they had to study in the outer room.

Chen Yanan laid out his books on the table. Qin Zhao first had him recite previous passages and then asked about the progress in the private school’s lessons.

As expected, Chen Yanan had fallen behind in his studies again after just a few days.

Chen Yanan wasn’t particularly gifted and couldn’t immediately grasp concepts or methods. Qin Zhao had to help him by explaining things bit by bit.

Today, they were working on Shangshu Zhengyi.

The text of this book was so obscure that to Jing Li, it sounded like gibberish—he couldn’t understand a word.

He quickly gave up on the idea of trying to follow along and instead laid his head on the table, daydreaming.

Qin Zhao didn’t have this book at home, but he was extremely familiar with it. No matter where Chen Yanan asked from, Qin Zhao could recall the passage and provide an explanation. His fluency was so impressive that Jing Li began to wonder if Qin Zhao himself had written the book.

Bored, Jing Li started flipping through Chen Yanan’s textbooks. Qin Zhao glanced at him and then said calmly, “We’ll stop here for now. Go over the previous sections, memorize them, and I’ll quiz you in half an hour.”

Chen Yanan: “???”

Does he have to be so strict?

Seeing Chen Yanan’s look of disbelief, Qin Zhao added, “If you want to study with me, you have to follow my rules; otherwise, you can leave.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll memorize it.”

“Go study outside.”

“Got it…” Chen Yanan responded and obediently took his stool outside.

Qin Zhao then turned his attention back to Jing Li, looking down at him. “Do you want to learn too?”

Jing Li hesitated and said, “It’s not that I want to study these things—I just want to learn to read.”

He had no plans to take the imperial exams, but living in this era without being able to read was undoubtedly a big inconvenience.

Jing Li asked, “Can you teach me how to read?”

Qin Zhao nodded. “Of course.”

He retrieved some rough paper and ink from the bedroom, laid them out in front of Jing Li, and without sitting down, dipped his brush in the ink and wrote two characters on the paper.

Qin Zhao’s calligraphy was bold and powerful, his strokes decisive and sharp, revealing a hidden strength that contrasted with his usually gentle demeanor.

Qin Zhao said, “These are my name characters.”

“So complicated…” Jing Li blinked, once again genuinely appreciating the benefits of simplified characters.

Even writing a name has so many strokes. On the imperial exam, you’d need not only knowledge but also speed.

“No worries, I’ll teach you,” Qin Zhao said as he handed the brush to Jing Li, slightly bending down and holding Jing Li’s hand.

Jing Li: “!”

Jing Li rarely found himself this close to Qin Zhao when fully awake. Although he occasionally woke up in the middle of the night to find himself curled up in Qin Zhao’s arms, he always sneaked away before Qin Zhao woke up.

Now that he knew Qin Zhao liked men, he was even more determined not to share a bed with him.

Not that he was afraid of being misunderstood… he just didn’t want to be disliked by Qin Zhao.

Qin Zhao guided Jing Li’s hand, tracing the characters on the paper, but Jing Li’s mind was completely elsewhere. Unable to focus, he quietly glanced up at Qin Zhao.

From this angle, Qin Zhao looked different from usual. He was slightly bent over, with a lock of hair falling over his forehead, the tip swaying gently with his movements, as if teasing his heart.

Qin Zhao’s hand rested on the table while the other held Jing Li’s hand, as if he were embracing him entirely. The scent of Qin Zhao’s medicine filled Jing Li’s nose, and he secretly inhaled, realizing Qin Zhao had already finished writing the characters.

“Have you learned it?” Qin Zhao asked.

Jing Li: “…”

He hadn’t paid attention at all.

Looking up innocently, Jing Li shook his head. “One more time.”

That expression was just like when he was a fish, asking for food.

So confident and straightforward.

Qin Zhao didn’t get angry. He just chuckled softly and playfully pinched Jing Li’s cheek. “If you don’t focus, I’ll have to punish you.”

He then took Jing Li’s hand again, slowing down as he carefully traced the characters on the paper.

Jing Li’s body was always cold, never warming up, even after holding his hand for a while. But it wasn’t an uncomfortable cold—more like a coolness that felt just right, making it particularly pleasant to hold.

Jing Li wasn’t trying to make Qin Zhao redo it on purpose; it’s just that whenever Qin Zhao was close, his thoughts would scatter, leaving him unable to focus on anything else.

After writing a few more times, Jing Li still hadn’t absorbed anything.

Qin Zhao put down the brush and stood up. “Let me think, how should I punish you?”

“S-sorry,” Jing Li mumbled, lowering his head.

Qin Zhao, with a hint of amusement in his eyes, softly said, “Copy it fifty times, and you’ll remember it.”

Jing Li, feeling dejected, replied, “Got it…”

So, half an hour later, when Chen Yanan came in to recite his lessons, he saw the young boy diligently sitting on a stool, carefully writing “Qin Zhao” over and over, filling up an entire page.

Chen Yanan’s expression became indescribable.

Qin Zhao sure knows how to have fun.

Chen Yanan had a decent memory, and after stumbling through the recitation of what Qin Zhao had taught him, he noticed Qin Zhao was also holding a copy of Liji beside him.

“Are you finally preparing for the imperial exams too?” Chen Yanan asked curiously.

Qin Zhao replied, “It’s possible.”

“I’ve always said you should try. With your knowledge, you could easily pass the Xiucai exam, maybe even get top rank. Then you’d be the first Juren from our village!”

(T/N: the main ranks in the imperial examination system:

1. Xiucai (秀才) – Entry-level, passed county exams, low-level scholar.
2. Juren (举人) – Mid-level, passed provincial exams, eligible for lower government roles.
3. Jinshi (进士) – High-level, passed metropolitan exams, eligible for top government roles.
4. Tanhua (探花) – Third place in palace exams, top 3 Jinshi.
5. Bangyan (榜眼) – Second place in palace exams, top 2 Jinshi.
6. Zhuangyuan (状元) – First place in palace exams, highest rank.
7. Gongshi (贡士) – Passed national exams, eligible for palace exams.
8. Shengyuan (生员) – Early-stage scholar, basic privileges, pre-Xiucai.
9. Jinshi Chushen (进士出身) – Final Jinshi title, fully qualified for high-ranking positions.)

Qin Zhao shook his head. “It’s too early to talk about that.”

“You’re right, let’s focus on passing the Tongsheng exam first,” Chen Yanan replied. “It’s better this way. When we go to the county, we’ll have company. It’s been lonely traveling alone every time.”

He thought for a moment and then asked, “Are you planning to study on your own, or will you find a tutor?”

Qin Zhao closed the book and said calmly, “I don’t need one.”

Chen Yanan: “…”

He could see that Qin Zhao, despite his modest appearance, was quite proud at his core.

But who could blame him? Qin Zhao had the skills to back it up.

Qin Zhao spent the afternoon teaching Chen Yanan about ten pages of text. As the sky began to darken, he said, “It’s likely to rain tonight; you should head back.”

It was almost summer, the season when it rained frequently.

Chen Yanan also noticed the sky and nodded, “I’ll come back during the next rest day.”

Qin Zhao walked him to the door.

Chen Yanan glanced at Jing Li, who was still practicing calligraphy inside, and pulled Qin Zhao aside to ask, “Did you really send that koi away?”

Qin Zhao remained expressionless. “Yes, I sent it away.”

“What a waste!” Chen Yanan said, “Even if you didn’t want to keep the koi to avoid trouble, you could have taken it to the county to sell for some money. Now, you’re left with nothing.”

“…That’s not the right way to use that phrase,” Qin Zhao replied.

Chen Yanan waved his hand dismissively. “Same difference.”

Qin Zhao didn’t want to continue the conversation and instead asked, “What did the little one talk to you about earlier?”

“You mean, sister-in-law? Nothing really…” Chen Yanan looked away nervously.

Qin Zhao looked at him calmly.

Unable to withstand the pressure of Qin Zhao’s gaze, Chen Yanan finally confessed, “Alright, it wasn’t much. He was just worried you might overthink things, so he didn’t tell you. He just wanted to…”

A moment later, Qin Zhao returned inside.

Jing Li was still hunched over, practicing his writing. When he saw Qin Zhao, he excitedly held up the paper to show him. “Qin Zhao, I’ve got it down!”

The paper was covered with Qin Zhao’s name, clearly written more than fifty times. The writing at the beginning was a bit rough, but it became noticeably smoother and more natural towards the end.

Jing Li had some previous experience with brush writing; it was only the characters of this era he wasn’t familiar with.

So, once he memorized the strokes, he learned quickly.

Qin Zhao took the paper but frowned slightly.

This speed of learning… was it a bit too fast?

However, he didn’t say anything and just nodded. “You’re learning quickly.”

Jing Li said, “Teach me something else!”

Qin Zhao asked, “What do you want to learn next?”

Jing Li replied, “I want to learn my own name.”

Qin Zhao was momentarily taken aback. “You have a name?”

“Of course I do. Did you think my name was just ‘Little Fish’?”

Qin Zhao: “…”

Qin Zhao then realized that he had never asked this little guy for his name.

When he first brought him home, he treated him as an ordinary little fish, not expecting that a fish would have a name. So even when the little fish turned into a person, he never thought to ask.

“You can keep calling me ‘Little Fish’,” Jing Li explained, worried that Qin Zhao might misunderstand. “I really like it when you call me that. Really, you don’t have to change it if you don’t want to. I just… I just wanted to tell you that I have another name.”

Jing Li liked it when Qin Zhao called him “Little Fish,” but he also wanted to find an opportunity to share his real name with him—as his human name.

Jing Li looked up at Qin Zhao earnestly and said, “My name is Jing Li.”

Qin Zhao: “…”

Jing Li frowned in displeasure. “What’s so funny?”

Qin Zhao met his gaze for a moment, unable to hold back his laughter. “Your name is ‘Jing Li,’ and you’re still saying you’re not a koi?”

“It’s not ‘koi,’ it’s ‘Jing Li’!” Jing Li said angrily. “The ‘jing’ from ‘scenery’ and the ‘li’ from ‘dawn’!”

(T/N: koi is 锦鲤, pronounced jǐnlǐ.)

“Alright, I understand.”

Qin Zhao picked up the brush and wrote this name next to his own on the paper.

“Jing Li… It’s a good name,” Qin Zhao repeated the name softly, but it felt a bit strange to him.

It was a good name, but it didn’t seem like the kind of name you would give to a fish.

Qin Zhao asked, “Who gave you this name?”

“It was…”

Jing Li hesitated.

He hadn’t yet told Qin Zhao about his transmigration, so he couldn’t say that the name was given to him by his parents. But he didn’t want to lie to him either.

Noticing Jing Li’s hesitation, Qin Zhao gently patted the back of his head and said, “If you can’t tell me, then you don’t have to.”

Jing Li looked up at him.

Qin Zhao was truly kind to him.

Whether it was pretending not to know that Jing Li could turn into a human to protect him or understanding and not pressing for answers when he sensed Jing Li had secrets, Qin Zhao was always gentle.

Qin Zhao was so good… so good that Jing Li didn’t want to let him go.

If he had come into this world as a human, he wouldn’t have been afraid to get close to Qin Zhao. But now, he was just a fish, a fish who sometimes couldn’t even transform properly, who couldn’t fully hide his tail.

Even though he didn’t show it, Jing Li was always worried. He was afraid that Qin Zhao would despise him because of this. So he obediently played the role of a pet fish, trying his best to please him, hoping to stay by his side as a pet.

But deep down, he wasn’t satisfied with that.

He didn’t want to be seen as just a pet.

Chen Yanan was right—although he said he wanted to help Qin Zhao find a husband, deep down, he never really wanted Qin Zhao to find someone.

Because… he wanted to be that person.

Openly and honorably.

“What are you thinking about?” Qin Zhao leaned in slightly, lowering his body closer to Jing Li.

Jing Li jumped as if someone had stepped on his tail, his whole body trembling. “N-nothing!”

His earlier resolve instantly evaporated.

Feeling deflated, Jing Li lowered his head, trying to calm his nerves as he picked up the brush on the table and continued practicing his writing.

No matter how sharp Qin Zhao was, he couldn’t possibly guess what his little fish was thinking about right now.

But he did notice something else.

Jing Li’s grip on the brush, the pressure he applied, and even some of the brushstrokes, though a bit unrefined, were mostly correct.

It was clear this wasn’t the first time he had written.

It seemed that the little guy was hiding more from him than he let on.

Qin Zhao’s gaze flickered slightly, but he didn’t intend to force the truth out of him just yet.

More than that, he was more concerned with what Chen Yanan had mentioned earlier.

He had only been out for half an hour, and the little one had already started stirring up trouble.

Where did he get a brother from?

Thinking of this, Qin Zhao suddenly called softly, “Little Fish.”

Jing Li replied, “What is it?”

Qin Zhao placed one hand on the table, looking down at the boy in his arms. He asked gently, “Is there anything you want to ask me?”

Jing Li’s brush paused mid-stroke.