Ch 42: Transmigrated to become a Koi Husband

The carriage soon arrived at Linxi Village.

Jing Li lifted the curtain and saw the scene outside, freezing in place.

The small clearing at the village entrance was filled with people, familiar and unfamiliar faces all gazing at them with the same eager expression.

“What’s going on?” Qin Zhao asked from inside the carriage when he noticed Jing Li wasn’t moving.

“It’s… nothing…” Jing Li pulled back the curtain and helped Qin Zhao out of the carriage.

Qin Zhao only paused slightly when he saw the crowd. With Jing Li and the coachman supporting him, he got off the carriage.

They walked toward the crowd, with the village chief standing at the front.

Qin Zhao said, “I just asked the village chief to find a few people to help me move some things. But this…”

“You’ve done such a great service for the village; everyone wanted to come and see you,” the village chief smiled and then turned to give orders, “What are you all standing around for? Get those things unloaded quickly.”

The crowd responded in unison, and a few sturdy men jumped onto the carriage, quickly unloading the stacks of medical books.

Qin Zhao glanced around and saw people from the Chen family, the Lin family, the Li family, and even Li Hongyu, who was helping with one arm in a sling.

He looked back at the village chief and asked, “Has your health recovered?”

“After drinking the medicine you gave me, that little illness is long gone,” the village chief waved it off, then added, “But you, you don’t look well. Have you been overworking yourself?”

Qin Zhao replied, “I’m fine.”

“You’re always trying to be tough,” the village chief sighed, then said, “Ever since I heard the county magistrate kept you in the county, I’ve been worried. I wanted to visit you, but the construction of the dike in the village kept me busy. It’s only now that everything’s finally done.”

As they walked along the road from the village entrance, they could see that the original dike had been significantly raised, and the drainage ditches along the fields had all been completed.

“I’ve been overseeing the work day and night, making sure everything was done according to your instructions. You can rest assured,” the village chief said.

Qin Zhao nodded, but then someone tugged at his sleeve.

A little boy, only as tall as Qin Zhao’s waist, stood before him holding a basket of eggs. He looked up at Qin Zhao and said, “Uncle Qin Zhao, thank you for getting the officials to fix the dike. My family’s field is in the lowest part of the village, and it used to get flooded every year. My mom asked me to give these to you to thank you.”

The boy’s skin was tanned dark from the sun, but his eyes were bright.

Qin Zhao hesitated for a moment, then said softly, “Take them back. There’s no need to thank me; this is what I should do.”

“This is just a small token from the villagers; you should accept it,” the village chief said. “It’s not just his family; many villagers have brought things over. Some are still at my place; I’ll send them over later.”

“Yes, please accept it.”

“You’ve done so much for the village; we have to show our appreciation.”

“Don’t be polite, just take it!”

The crowd chimed in, and Qin Zhao, unable to refuse, hesitated.

Someone beside him reached out and took the items from him, saying, “No need to be so polite with everyone. Here, I’ll hold them for you.”

It was Li Dali.

Li Dali said, “We’re all neighbors; there’s no reason to let you help us for nothing. If you don’t accept, we’ll feel bad. Isn’t that right, everyone?”

The crowd agreed enthusiastically.

Qin Zhao, having no other choice, nodded in agreement.

The boy in front of him hadn’t left yet and tugged at Qin Zhao’s sleeve again. “Uncle Qin, next year, I’ll be going to the town to start school too.”

Qin Zhao’s gaze shifted slightly.

It was rare for children from Linxi Village to go out for schooling; before this, only Chen Yanan had gone to town to study.

“It’s not just him,” the village chief said. “After this incident, many in the village are considering sending their children to learn to read and write. Even if it’s not for the sake of achieving scholarly success, it’s still good for them to know more characters.”

The village chief paused, sighing with emotion. “Years ago, I advocated for the younger generation to go and study, but no one was willing. You’ve helped fulfill a wish of mine this time.”

Qin Zhao responded, “That’s indeed good news.”

“Alright, chief, we can talk about this another day,” Li Dali chimed in. “Let’s disperse, everyone. Our Qin Zhao has been on the road all day; let him go home and rest.”

The village chief nodded and helped to send everyone on their way.

Only Li Dali stayed behind to escort Qin Zhao home.

On the way, they received more gifts from the villagers—fruits, vegetables, bedding, and other daily necessities.

Jing Li and Li Dali carried the items back home.

The men who had helped carry the books had already arrived at Qin Zhao’s courtyard.

Luckily, the bookcase that Fang Tianying had given them before was large enough, with plenty of space left for all the medical books Qin Zhao had brought back.

After placing the items down, the villagers didn’t linger, with one of them drinking a bowl of water before leaving.

Jing Li saw them out of the courtyard, but when he returned, he found Qin Zhao already at the table, starting to organize the books.

The number of medical books Qin Zhao brought back was considerable, and there wasn’t enough time to place them neatly in the bookcase, so they were scattered across the table and floor. As Qin Zhao bent down to pick up a book from the floor, he suddenly felt dizzy, stumbling slightly.

“Stop it,” Jing Li quickly walked over to support him. “You should go rest; I can organize these.”

Qin Zhao replied, “It’s fine, I can still… cough, cough!”

Without warning, he began to cough.

They had been traveling all day to return to the village, and Qin Zhao’s complexion had already looked poor. Now, with the coughing, it seemed as if he was about to cough up his very lungs. One hand covered his mouth, while the other gripped the table, his thin shoulders trembling slightly with each cough.

His vision darkened repeatedly, and when he finally managed to catch his breath, he realized that Jing Li had already helped him to a chair.

A cold sweat had broken out on his forehead, and his palm felt clammy and cool.

Qin Zhao glanced down and saw a stark red stain.

“……”

He closed his eyes and let out a silent sigh.

Jing Li fetched a clean cloth, dampened it, wrung it out, and first wiped the cold sweat from Qin Zhao’s forehead before moving to his lips.

Qin Zhao’s thin lips were tightly pressed together, frighteningly pale, making the crimson at the corner of his mouth stand out even more strikingly.

Jing Li’s fingers trembled as he silently wiped away the bloodstain, then knelt down to help Qin Zhao clean his hands.

“I told you to rest properly,” Jing Li said after offering a cup of warm water for Qin Zhao to rinse his mouth. “I’ll go make the bed first. You might feel better lying down for a while.”

Qin Zhao nodded.

Having been away from home for over a month, all the bedding needed to be taken apart and washed.

Jing Li was fairly skilled at these tasks and quickly removed the old covers, replacing them with fresh, clean ones.

Only then did he help Qin Zhao lie down.

After tucking Qin Zhao in, Jing Li asked softly, “Are you hungry? Do you want to eat something before you sleep?”

“Can you cook?” Qin Zhao asked with a smile.

“No… but I can go buy something.”

“No need,” Qin Zhao replied. “Come lie down with me for a while.”

“I’m not tired. You sleep; I’ll go organize those books,” Jing Li said, standing up, only to be pulled back by Qin Zhao.

Qin Zhao’s warm palm enveloped Jing Li’s hand, causing his fingers to curl slightly. Jing Li didn’t turn around.

“Little fish,” Qin Zhao gazed at him and said gently, “Have you forgotten what I told you?”

“…I haven’t forgotten,” Jing Li’s voice was low, tinged with a faint sob.

Qin Zhao sighed, “You’re just taking advantage of the fact that I’m too weak to punish you right now.”

“……”

Jing Li obediently turned around.

The young man’s eyes were red, and when he lowered his head, a tear finally slipped down from his overflowing eyes, landing squarely on the back of Qin Zhao’s hand.

Qin Zhao squeezed his hand, his voice still soft, “Come here, let me comfort you.”

Jing Li bent down and was enveloped in Qin Zhao’s embrace.

He buried his head in Qin Zhao’s shoulder, his voice choked with sobs, “I know you’ll be okay. As long as we find all the herbs, you’ll be fine. I just… I just…”

“You’re worried about me, I know.”

Qin Zhao gently patted his back, speaking softly, “Alright, don’t cry. Otherwise, people will think I’m bullying you.”

Jing Li mumbled a response.

True to his word, he didn’t cry for long.

A few moments later, Jing Li managed to calm down. He leaned back and rubbed his eyes, then willingly pulled away from Qin Zhao’s embrace, saying, “I’m done crying.”

Qin Zhao was already suffering enough; Jing Li didn’t want to make things harder for him.

Jing Li straightened up, his eyes still slightly red, looking like a little rabbit who had been wronged. “You should rest now. I’ll go organize those books.”

“Wait,” Qin Zhao didn’t let go of his hand, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Jing Li blinked, puzzled. “Huh?”

“Punishment,” Qin Zhao said, his tone casual, but it instantly made the atmosphere a bit more suggestive.

Jing Li bit his lip, a little embarrassed, and leaned in closer.

But Qin Zhao said, “I can’t get up.”

They locked eyes for a moment, and it was clear from the smile in Qin Zhao’s eyes that he was up to no good.

Jing Li knew exactly what he was up to.

He lowered his head and quickly brushed his lips against Qin Zhao’s in a fleeting kiss.

Over the past month, Qin Zhao had occasionally “punished” him like this, but it was the first time Jing Li had initiated it.

The sensation of their lips touching was fleeting, and Qin Zhao still didn’t let go, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. “Too quick, I didn’t feel it.”

This was clearly something he had said before.

The room was silent, and with Qin Zhao holding Jing Li’s hand as if he wouldn’t let go or sleep unless Jing Li complied, Jing Li had no choice but to lower his head and press his cool lips against Qin Zhao’s once more.

Qin Zhao’s lips were soft and slightly cool. Jing Li carefully traced the contours of his lips, and after a moment, he lifted his head slightly and asked, “You will get better soon, right?”

“I will,” Qin Zhao replied, gently stroking Jing Li’s reddened eyes. “I promise.”

But this bout of illness hit Qin Zhao harder than ever before.

From the day they returned to the village, he was bedridden for nearly half a month before finally starting to feel a bit better.

On a midsummer afternoon, the cicadas hummed lazily in the courtyard.

The courtyard was cleverly designed; even in the height of summer, a gentle breeze drifted through, keeping it pleasantly cool.

Qin Zhao leaned against the bed, looking out through the half-open window.

Jing Li was squatting in the yard, tending to the plants.

Jing Li had mentioned before that he knew how to garden, and he wasn’t exaggerating.

It had been almost two months since the seeds were planted, and many of the plants in the courtyard had already sprouted green leaves. Although they hadn’t bloomed yet, it was easy to imagine how lush and vibrant the courtyard would look when they did.

The germination rate was astonishing, especially for seeds that only cost two wen per packet.

This was probably part of the lucky charm that Jing Li brought with him.

As Qin Zhao thought about this, he flipped open the medical book in his hand and continued reading, occasionally making notes in the margins.

“Qin Zhao, why are you reading again? Doctor Ge said you shouldn’t tire yourself out!” Jing Li frowned as he walked in and saw him like this.

Qin Zhao had fallen ill earlier because he had overworked himself in the county, and his body couldn’t handle it. Although he had recovered somewhat after resting for half a month, Jing Li had become particularly sensitive, not allowing him to read for too long or to get out of bed easily, fearing that he might overexert himself again.

Qin Zhao could only smile helplessly, “I’ve been lying in bed for half a month.”

Jing Li snatched the book from his hand, pouting, “If you get sick again, you can stay in bed until Elder Xue finishes making the antidote.”

“……”

Over the past half month, Jing Li had been so worried that he couldn’t eat or sleep well, and his temper had grown along with it. Qin Zhao wisely chose to remain silent and not argue with him.

Jing Li put the book Qin Zhao had been reading back on the bedside table, about to say something else when they suddenly heard someone knocking at the courtyard gate.

“Qin Zhao, are you home? There’s a letter for you!”

Jing Li and Qin Zhao exchanged a glance.

Qin Zhao had few acquaintances outside the village and rarely received letters, so this one could only be from one person.

Pei An.

The last time Pei An had sent a letter was ten days ago, in which he mentioned that they couldn’t find the herbs Qin Zhao needed in the county and that the county magistrate planned to send the request to the provincial capital for further help.

After ten days, it was about time for a reply.

Jing Li hurriedly went to the gate to retrieve the letter.

He still didn’t recognize many characters and wasn’t very fluent, but he did recognize the handwriting as belonging to the county magistrate’s assistant and handed the letter to Qin Zhao.

Qin Zhao opened the letter and read it.

After a moment, he set the letter down.

Seeing that there was no joy on his face, Jing Li’s heart sank as well. “Still haven’t found all the herbs?”

Qin Zhao nodded. “Most of the herbs in the prescription have been found and have already been delivered to Elder Xue’s shop, but there’s still one missing…”

Jing Li asked, “Which one?”

“Qidongcao.”

Qin Zhao picked up the medical book from the bedside, flipped through it for a moment, and said, “Here it is.”

“Qidongcao, sweet in taste, grows in the deep mountains during the summer and autumn seasons. It is harvested when the stems and leaves are lush, dried, and then used in medicine.”

Jing Li frowned. “If this herb grows in the summer and autumn, why can’t it be found?”

“This herb is extremely rare,” Qin Zhao shook his head. “If I hadn’t read about it in this book, even I wouldn’t have known about it.”

The rarity of this herb is quite different from Wushan ginseng.

Wushan ginseng, while rare, is frequently used in prescriptions and can be found in many pharmacies.

But Qidongcao… If you were to ask about it in the city’s pharmacies, most of the attending doctors probably wouldn’t even be able to describe its characteristics or how to use it.

Since it’s seldom used, naturally, no one bothers to harvest it.

“Why would Elder Xue use such an obscure herb?” Jing Li muttered softly, then asked, “So what should we do now?”

“Elder Xue mentioned earlier that the prescription he wrote cannot be substituted with other herbs; if any one herb is missing, the antidote cannot be made,” Qin Zhao sighed. “We’ll just have to trouble Master Pei to keep searching for a few more days.”

He picked up the paper and pen by the bed and quickly wrote a reply to Pei An.

“Just like before, take the letter to the post station at the village entrance and then come back. Be careful on your way,” Qin Zhao handed the letter to Jing Li, instructing him.

Jing Li took the letter but didn’t leave immediately.

Qin Zhao asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Let me help you find the herb,” Jing Li said.

Qin Zhao was taken aback.

“Qidongcao grows in the deep mountains during the summer and autumn seasons. Don’t we live near the mountains now?” Jing Li said seriously. “I’m a lucky koi, right? If they can’t find it, then I surely can.”

“Xiao Yu…”

Jing Li continued, “You told me I should believe in myself, and now I do. I think I can definitely find it!”

Qin Zhao looked at him, his gaze softening. “Thank you.”

This time, his illness was indeed more severe than any he’d had before, but it wasn’t as unbearable as any of the times in the past three years.

Back then, he was all alone. Even though Chen Yanan would occasionally come by to check on him and bring him food daily when he couldn’t get out of bed, most of the time, he had to endure it by himself.

Now, everything was different.

Qin Zhao looked away, lifted the covers, and got out of bed.

“Why are you getting up?” Jing Li frowned, sensitive to any movement. “You can’t come up the mountain with me; you’re like this—”

“I’m not.”

Qin Zhao sighed helplessly, not understanding what kind of image he had in Xiao Yu’s mind. While putting on his clothes, he patiently explained, “I’m going to accompany you to the village chief’s house to hire a few people to go up the mountain with you.”

“…You’re so absent-minded. What if you get lost without anyone to guide you?”

xxx

Jing Li stumbled on the mountain path, his foot suddenly slipping, but someone quickly caught him from behind. “Careful!”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Jing Li said as he pushed the person’s hand away.

Li Hongyu awkwardly touched his nose and looked away. “I told you, you shouldn’t have come up the mountain. If you’re looking for herbs, you should have let us handle it.”

Qin Zhao now had a great reputation in the village. As soon as he mentioned to the village chief that he wanted to hire people to search the mountain for herbs, seven or eight villagers volunteered to help in no time.

And they all refused any payment.

Qin Zhao, however, didn’t want to take advantage of their kindness for free, so he paid each of them twenty wen as compensation and arranged for them to take Jing Li up the mountain early the next morning.

There were plenty of herbs growing in the deep mountains around Linxi Village, and the villagers would often come here to gather herbs and collect firewood. Once in the mountains, the group split up, leaving Li Hongyu to look after Jing Li.

“I had to come along,” Jing Li mumbled, struggling with the mountain path. “You guys wouldn’t be able to find it without me.”

Li Hongyu didn’t catch that. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Jing Li replied, then added, “But you’re the one who shouldn’t have come along. Your hand still isn’t healed.”

“This is nothing. Even if I broke my hand or went blind, I could still walk through this mountain without a scratch,” Li Hongyu said proudly.

He had grown up following his father hunting in these mountains and was very familiar with the terrain.

After a pause, Li Hongyu continued, “But to be honest, I’ve never seen the kind of herb you’re looking for in these mountains. Are you sure it’s here?”

“It is,” Jing Li said firmly. “We’ll definitely find it.”

But after several days of searching the mountains, Jing Li hadn’t even found a single leaf that resembled the herb.

“…I guess I’m not a lucky koi after all,” Jing Li muttered, sitting on the bed late at night, feeling dejected. “Not a single wish I’ve made has come true… Ow, ow, ow—!”

Qin Zhao was applying medicine to the blisters on Jing Li’s ankles, then wrapping them with bandages. “Bear with it for a bit. It won’t hurt tomorrow.”

“Alright…” Jing Li flopped back onto the bed, his bare feet still resting on Qin Zhao’s legs, already wrapped in several layers of bandages.

He wasn’t used to walking in the mountains, and every day he ended up with new injuries, either from branches scratching him or from his shoes causing blisters. Almost every evening, he’d return with fresh wounds.

Qin Zhao gently held Jing Li’s ankle.

Jing Li’s skin was fair and delicate, making the wounds stand out even more.

“Rest at home tomorrow. You can’t go up the mountain like this,” Qin Zhao said.

“No, I’ve already agreed with Li Hongyu and the others to check out the western side of the mountain tomorrow. We haven’t gone there yet,” Jing Li insisted. “I said I’d find the herb, and I will. You believe in me, right?”

Qin Zhao shook his head. “If only I were in better health…”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

If there were any other options, he wouldn’t have let Jing Li do this. But both he and Jing Li knew this was their only option right now.

Qin Zhao’s gaze darkened as he gently ran his thumb over a scab on Jing Li’s foot.

Jing Li, feeling tickled by the touch, shivered slightly.

They were about to go to bed, dressed only in thin undergarments. The oil lamp inside the room had dimmed, casting their figures in a shadowy light, adding a touch of ambiguity to the atmosphere.

Qin Zhao’s health had been poor recently, leaving Jing Li little time to think about anything else. But now, in this intimate setting, thoughts he wouldn’t normally entertain during the day began to surface uncontrollably, one after another.

He and Qin Zhao… were they together now?

Jing Li’s ears started to heat up.

In the light of the lamp, Qin Zhao’s face finally had a bit of color, making him look even more attractive than during the day.

Jing Li stared at him in a daze, and Qin Zhao looked back at him, the hand that had been resting on Jing Li’s ankle slowly sliding upwards, brushing against his long, toned leg.

Jing Li trembled all over, instinctively trying to pull away.

But Qin Zhao leaned in slightly, placing one hand beside Jing Li’s body, blocking any chance of retreat.

Jing Li was pressed into the soft bed, watching as Qin Zhao’s face drew closer and closer, until he could barely breathe.

Suddenly, a different kind of heat spread from his forehead.

“!!!”

“Your scales are showing again.” Qin Zhao’s fingertip touched the fish scales on Jing Li’s forehead, gently caressing them, as if he found it quite interesting.

The little demon’s skills were clearly lacking; whenever he got nervous, his fish scales would appear.

When in fish form, Jing Li didn’t mind Qin Zhao touching his scales, but in human form, the scales seemed especially sensitive to heat. Every time Qin Zhao touched them, Jing Li would shiver slightly.

Unable to bear the sensation, Jing Li turned his head away. “Don’t… don’t touch them.”

The hand resting on his forehead paused.

Jing Li looked back, only to find Qin Zhao gazing deeply at him, a silent desire slowly spreading in the dark night.

Their eyes met, and the air seemed to thin, the temperature gradually rising.

After a moment, Qin Zhao lowered his head and gently kissed the fish scales.

It was extremely restrained and incredibly gentle.

Jing Li tensed up completely, but Qin Zhao didn’t do anything further. The pressure on his body suddenly dissipated, and Qin Zhao got up, pulling the blanket over Jing Li.

“Sleep now,” Qin Zhao whispered softly. “Goodnight.”

The next day, as usual, Jing Li woke up early.

The sky outside was just beginning to lighten. As Qin Zhao helped Jing Li tie his belt, he asked, “Are you really going today?”

“Of course, I am,” Jing Li replied, chewing on a millet cake. “The sooner I find the herb, the sooner I can help cure your illness!”

Qin Zhao glanced out the window; it had rained again last night, and the ground in the courtyard was still slightly damp.

“The book says that summer rain is conducive to the growth of Qidong grass, so today might be a good time to look,” Qin Zhao said softly as he finished adjusting Jing Li’s clothes.

“I know,” Jing Li said, walking to the door. He hesitated for a moment, then turned back to give Qin Zhao a light hug. “Don’t feel burdened. Taking care of you is something a man should do.”

Qin Zhao: “?”

He couldn’t help but feel there was something off about that statement.

Before Qin Zhao could respond, Jing Li had already left. Smiling wryly, Qin Zhao was about to lie back down when he suddenly heard hurried footsteps outside.

“Qin Zhao!” Jing Li called urgently from outside the window. “That herb… it’s supposed to have lush stems and leaves, long narrow leaves with silver-gray veins, right?”

Sensing something, Qin Zhao got up and walked to the window.

Jing Li was pointing at a patch of soil in the corner. Overnight, new green leaves had sprouted there.

They looked exactly like the herb they have been looking for.