Ch 43: Transmigrated to become a Koi Husband

The Qidong grass had sprouted from the seeds Jing Li had bought.

These mixed flower seeds were mostly collected by flower farmers from the wild, often consisting of various wildflowers. Even the sellers usually didn’t know exactly what was included in the mix.

Since most people wouldn’t recognize Qidong grass or know its value, they wouldn’t pay attention to it even if they happened to collect it.

That’s likely how the seeds ended up in the mix.

“If the book’s description is accurate, then this is indeed Qidong grass,” Qin Zhao said, crouching by the wall and gently brushing his fingers over the silver-gray leaves. “The branches and leaves aren’t fully grown yet. It’ll take another two or three days before they can be harvested.”

Jing Li remained silent for a long time, and when Qin Zhao turned to look at him, he saw a dazed expression on his face. “Am I… am I really that amazing?”

To have planted a rare herb that couldn’t be found anywhere, just from some random flower seeds he had bought? And for it to sprout just at this crucial time?

Even with his doubts about his own “lucky” constitution, Jing Li couldn’t help but start to believe in it now.

Qin Zhao laughed.

He took Jing Li’s hand and led him back into the house.

“What are we doing?” Jing Li asked.

“Sleeping,” Qin Zhao replied. “You haven’t had a proper rest in days. It’s still early, so go back to sleep.”

“Oh…”

Jing Li obediently followed Qin Zhao back to bed, took off his outer garments, and lay down.

After a moment, a thought suddenly struck him, and he sat up abruptly. “So, all those days I spent searching the mountains were for nothing?!”

Qin Zhao: “…”

The so-called “lucky koi” blessing was real, but you could never predict when or how it would manifest.

Jing Li’s mindset was a bit shaken.

Qin Zhao smiled helplessly and gently pushed him back under the covers.

From the time Jing Li had returned to the village, first Qin Zhao had fallen ill, then Jing Li had gone up the mountain to search for herbs. In reality, he hadn’t had a proper rest in a long time.

Perhaps finally relieved of a heavy burden, Jing Li ended up sleeping until noon, only waking up when hunger pangs roused him.

When he opened his eyes, Qin Zhao was no longer beside him.

Instantly awake and alarmed, Jing Li sat up in bed. “Qin Zhao!”

“I’m here,” Qin Zhao responded, looking up from his book. “Finally awake?”

Jing Li frowned. “Why are you up?”

“…” Qin Zhao set down his book and walked over to the bed. “I’ve been lying down for about twenty days.”

“But—”

Before he could finish, his stomach growled loudly.

Jing Li: “…”

He looked up at Qin Zhao, blinking innocently.

The message was clear: your fish is hungry.

Qin Zhao ruffled his hair with a smile. “Go wash up first; I’ll make us some noodles.”

For the past half month while Qin Zhao had been sick, Jing Li had taken on the responsibility of preparing their meals. However, since his cooking skills were limited to making porridge, most of the time, he had to trade some of their belongings or money with the neighbors to get ready-made food.

Though they didn’t go hungry, the taste was far from what Qin Zhao could make.

It had been a long time since Jing Li had eaten anything cooked by Qin Zhao, and he was so hungry that he finished every last drop of the soup before putting down his bowl. “Qin Zhao,” he said seriously.

Qin Zhao was leisurely picking up his noodles and responded softly, “Yes?”

“I used to not believe that someone could be good at everything,” Jing Li sighed, once again realizing the difference between them. “How did your brain develop like this?”

Qin Zhao chuckled softly. “I’m not good at everything.”

“Hmm?”

“For example, I can’t grow flowers.”

“That’s just because you haven’t learned it yet!” Jing Li argued. “And you’d pick it up in no time.”

Qin Zhao shook his head. “When it comes to anything related to planting, I’m not very skilled. In this regard, I can’t compare to you.”

Even though he knew Qin Zhao was trying to comfort him, Jing Li still felt a bit happy hearing those words.

He grinned foolishly, then suddenly remembered something. “Oh no!”

“What now?”

“I promised to meet Li Hongyu at the village entrance yesterday, and I forgot to tell him!” Jing Li exclaimed.

Qin Zhao’s eyes flickered as he lowered them. “No need to worry; he’s already gone.”

Jing Li was confused. “What?”

Qin Zhao calmly explained, “While you were sleeping, he came by looking for you. I told him everything. The other villagers who were planning to go up the mountain also went home.”

Jing Li sighed in relief. “That’s good then…”

Qin Zhao glanced at him. “Why are you so concerned about him? Have you forgotten what he did before?”

“Of course not, but he’s been helping me a lot these past few days, so I—”

Jing Li started to explain but then suddenly realized, “Wait… are you jealous?”

Qin Zhao put down his bowl and answered straightforwardly, “Yes.”

Jing Li was at a loss for words.

It was the first time he had seen someone admit to being jealous so openly.

Qin Zhao asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing, it’s just…” Jing Li replied, “I feel like you’re different from when we first met.”

Qin Zhao: “Is that a bad thing?”

“Of course not, it’s great.”

Back then, Qin Zhao was silent and aloof, keeping everything to himself and trusting no one. It was as if he had built a thick protective shell around himself, making it impossible for anyone to get close or gain his trust.

Now, that protective shell was still there, but he had opened his heart to Jing Li.

After finishing his last bite of noodles, Qin Zhao got up to clear the dishes. “In the future, it will be even more different.”

Jing Li was puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Qin Zhao didn’t explain further. He just took the dishes to the kitchen, leaving Jing Li alone at the table, deep in thought.

What did he mean by “in the future”?

After lunch, Qin Zhao wrote two letters to be sent to the county. One was addressed to Pei An, and the other to Old Doctor Xue, informing them that the Qidong grass had been found.

As he prepared to leave the house with the letters, he saw Jing Li sitting on a bamboo chair in the courtyard, resting his chin in his hand and staring absentmindedly at the young Qidong grass seedling.

Qin Zhao: “…”

Although they had found the herb, Jing Li was still not completely at ease.

The Qidong grass had yet to fully mature and needed a few more days before it could be used as medicine. Until he saw it dried and processed into medicine, Jing Li couldn’t truly relax.

Qin Zhao shook his head helplessly and stepped forward to ruffle the young man’s hair. “Qidong grass is wild and has a strong survival ability. It’ll be fine even if you don’t keep watch over it.”

“But…” Jing Li muttered softly, “We only have this one plant…”

Things that are unique tend to be the easiest to lose—at least, that’s how it always goes in stories.

If something were to happen to this herb, wouldn’t all their efforts be in vain?

Qin Zhao sighed, a bit exasperated, and asked, “So, are you going to keep guarding it, or will you come with me to the village entrance to send the letter?”

“A letter? To Doctor Xue and the others?” Jing Li quickly stood up. “I’ll help you send it.”

Qin Zhao didn’t agree. “It’s fine. I also want to take a walk.”

Since returning home, he had spent so many days bedridden that he hadn’t even stepped outside the courtyard.

Jing Li hesitated. “Then… no more than half an hour.”

Qin Zhao smiled. “Alright, as you say.”

There was a post station at the village entrance where one could rent an ox cart to travel between the county and nearby villages or send letters.

However, communication was slow during this era; a journey that might take a person a day would take a letter about three days to cover.

After paying the postage, Jing Li patted his noticeably lighter purse before putting it back into his pocket.

During these past days, Qin Zhao obviously hadn’t had time to earn any money.

A few days ago, someone from the bookstore in town sent a message asking about Qin Zhao’s health and whether he could start copying books again. But at that time, Qin Zhao was bedridden with a high fever and couldn’t even get up, so he had to decline.

By now, they had been without income for several months.

Yet, their expenses hadn’t decreased.

Besides daily necessities, they had spent a considerable amount of money on medicine and doctor visits when Qin Zhao fell ill recently.

If it weren’t for the gifts of food and other items from the villagers when they returned and the fact that their crops were nearly ripe, they might even have trouble affording meals.

But at this rate, he would soon run out of money to buy medicine for Qin Zhao.

Jing Li didn’t want to burden Qin Zhao with these worries, so he never mentioned the truth.

Still… he needed to think of a way to make some money.

Jing Li pondered silently.

Unaware of this, Qin Zhao, after mailing the letters, took Jing Li for a walk along the newly repaired embankment.

During their return to the village, he had only seen the embankment from a distance and hadn’t had the chance to inspect its construction closely. Since he was out for some fresh air today, he took the opportunity to walk along the newly repaired embankment.

Alongside the embankment lay the fields of Linxi Village.

Now, more than three months after spring planting, most of the villagers’ crops were mature, and a sea of green stretched as far as the eye could see.

As they walked upstream, they eventually reached the westernmost point, where Qin Zhao had rented a plot of land.

Even Qin Zhao, usually so composed, was momentarily stunned when he saw their own field.

The vegetables in these two fields… were growing exceptionally well.

Throughout their walk, Qin Zhao had noticed that many villagers’ crops were thriving, with seemingly good yields.

But when he saw his own fields, he realized those others were nothing in comparison.

On their small two-acre plot, except for the corn, which wasn’t yet in season, every other vegetable was lush and thriving, with hardly any gaps between them. Every plant was full and leafy, and even the vegetable leaves were much larger than those in other fields.

This… weren’t they using the same seeds?

“I did a pretty good job, didn’t I?” Jing Li said, hopping into the field in a few steps and expertly picking two plump, long eggplants. “How about roasted eggplant for dinner?”

Qin Zhao replied, “Sounds good.”

Jing Li said, “Then I’ll pick some beans too, and we can have stewed beans!”

Jing Li didn’t mind getting dirty. He wrapped the eggplants in his clothes and carefully made his way through the vines and branches of various vegetables to pick more.

During the month they were away from the village, the village chief had hired someone to tend to their fields. After they returned, this task fell to Jing Li.

Jing Li originally knew nothing about farming, but thankfully, many villagers helped him during this time.

To the villagers, Jing Li was still seen as a fulang, “shuang’er” husband, a term used for a male who was slightly less physically capable than an average man. Because of this, many of the villagers sympathized with the fact that his husband couldn’t do heavy labor, so they often helped with watering and weeding the fields and taught him how to take care of the crops.

After over half a month, Jing Li had become quite skilled at these tasks.

Interestingly, when the fields were being tended by the villagers, the crops didn’t seem to differ much from others, and because of the soil’s lack of fertility, they actually grew worse than those in other fields. But once Jing Li returned, the crops seemed to grow more vigorously by the day, and within just a couple of weeks, they had flourished into their current state.

“They’re growing too fast,” Jing Li sighed as he picked more vegetables. “I’ve already traded a lot for other food, but there’s still so much left.”

At this rate, the vegetables would rot in the field before they could finish eating them all.

As Jing Li thought about this “sweet burden,” a sudden idea struck him: “We could take these vegetables to town and sell them!”

Since every household in the village grew their own vegetables, selling them within the village wasn’t an option. Many villagers would go to the market in town early in the morning to sell various things—vegetables, fruits, firewood, herbs, and even fabrics and textiles.

“But we don’t have an ox cart to transport the vegetables,” Jing Li said, looking worried again.

Given the amount of produce their fields were yielding, even an ox cart wouldn’t be enough to transport everything in one trip, let alone carrying it all by hand.

“No rush. Come up here first,” Qin Zhao called to him.

Setting aside the logistics of getting the vegetables to town, Qin Zhao was still in poor health and definitely couldn’t go to town. If they were to sell the vegetables, Jing Li would have to go alone.

Qin Zhao couldn’t even imagine what it would be like for Jing Li to sell things by himself.

Jing Li climbed up from the field, holding up his clothes filled with vegetables.

A bit of dirt had smudged his cheek, which Qin Zhao gently wiped away with his sleeve. “You went to pick some vegetables and ended up looking like a little mud cat.”

Jing Li muttered softly, “I’m not a cat.”

They had already been out for more than half an hour, so Jing Li urged Qin Zhao to head home. Just as they were about to leave the field, someone called out to them.

“Qin Zhao, you’re out in the fields today. Are you feeling better?”

The person calling them was an older man, also surnamed Chen. He was reportedly a distant relative of Chen Yanan’s grandfather, though they no longer had much contact with the Chen family.

Old Chen’s wife and children had passed away, and now he lived alone, relying on farming to get by.

Qin Zhao replied, “Thank you for asking, Uncle Chen. I’m feeling much better now.”

Old Chen, who had weathered years of hard labor, was dark-skinned and sturdy. He approached Qin Zhao and looked over their field, then said with a sigh, “A scholar is truly different. Even your crops grow better than ours.”

Qin Zhao looked down and didn’t respond.

“I overheard you saying you want to sell these vegetables,” Old Chen said. “I have an idea that might help you.”

Old Chen knew the owner of a small restaurant in town. They regularly hired people to go to nearby villages and buy fresh vegetables in large quantities.

“Purchase?” Jing Li asked. “Which is more profitable, selling to the restaurant or taking the vegetables to town ourselves?”

Old Chen replied, “If you’re looking to earn more, taking them to town would be better, but…”

He paused before continuing, “Your family is small—one person is in poor health, and the other is a shuang’er, not suitable for going out and about. If you ask me, it’s more practical to sell them to the restaurant.”

Jing Li instinctively wanted to object, “Why can’t I—”

But Qin Zhao gently tugged his hand, stopping him from saying more.

In this era, the status of shuang’ers wasn’t very high, and they weren’t expected to be out in public often. The villagers didn’t know that Jing Li wasn’t actually a shuang’er, so it was natural for them to think this way.

Even if they didn’t think this way, Qin Zhao wouldn’t want Jing Li to go to town. His little naïve fish was too trusting; it would be a blessing if he didn’t get swindled, let alone succeed in doing business.

Qin Zhao thought for a moment and then asked some details about how the restaurant purchased vegetables. Old Chen explained everything, saying, “It’s not convenient for you to go to town every day like we do, so having someone buy them from you is better than letting the vegetables rot in the field.”

“They should come by in a few days. When they do, should I call for you?”

Qin Zhao nodded, “Thank you, Uncle Chen.”

“No need for thanks. But if you really want to thank me, I have something I’d like to ask you.” Old Chen leaned in a bit, pretending to be mysterious.

Qin Zhao asked, “What is it?”

“Why don’t you tell me the secret? How did you grow those crops so well?” Old Chen scratched his thinning hair and said confidently, “Li Dali’s field didn’t yield this well last year. You must have some special method!”

Qin Zhao: “…”

He had expected that the villagers would start getting suspicious about how well Jing Li’s crops were growing.

Since they usually didn’t see Qin Zhao, and they didn’t feel comfortable asking a shuang’er directly, they had waited until now.

Of course, there was a secret—Jing Li personally took care of the crops.

But Qin Zhao wasn’t going to reveal that. He simply shook his head and said, “It’s just good luck, nothing special.”

Old Chen was convinced that Qin Zhao had some trick up his sleeve, but no matter how much he pressed, Qin Zhao didn’t reveal anything, so he had to give up.

The plan to sell the vegetables was thus tentatively set.

However, before the restaurant staff from town could come to the village, two familiar faces arrived instead.

That evening, as usual, Qin Zhao was at home studying medical texts.

Jing Li was beside him, practicing reading from the Analects of Confucius and learning new characters.

While he read, he occasionally reached into the fruit bowl, grabbing a piece of candied fruit and popping it into his mouth.

Qin Zhao noticed out of the corner of his eye that Jing Li had repeated the entire process of snacking, and seeing that the plate of candied fruits was nearly empty, he sighed, “Xiao Yu, you’ve eaten almost—”

Just as he was about to scold him, Jing Li popped another candied fruit into Qin Zhao’s mouth.

The sweet and tangy taste melted on his tongue, instantly softening his heart, making it impossible to say anything further.

Qin Zhao cleared his throat, his voice noticeably gentler, “Don’t eat so many snacks, or you won’t eat your meals properly later.”

“Got it…” Jing Li answered nonchalantly. At that moment, someone knocked on the courtyard door.

Jing Li ran to open it.

Standing outside the courtyard was the elderly man, Mr. Xue, and the shy shuang’er boy, Ah Yi, who worked at the herbal shop.

Ah Yi, carrying a basket on his back, smiled shyly when he saw Jing Li. “Jing Li, long time no see.”

“Long time no see,” Jing Li replied. “What brings you here?”

“We’ve come to treat your husband, of course,” Mr. Xue said with a smile. “Don’t just stand there, show me where the Qidong grass is.”

Jing Li led them into the courtyard, and upon hearing their voices, Qin Zhao quickly came out of the main house.

Mr. Xue, who had a keen eye for herbs, immediately spotted the plant he was looking for among the other greenery. He quickly stepped over to it, bent down, and examined it closely. “…Long stem, silvery-gray, slender leaves… Yes, this is indeed Qidong grass.”

Over the past few days, the Qidong grass had grown considerably, and even a few more seedlings had sprouted nearby.

—Now Jing Li had no reason to worry about anything happening to it.

In just a day or two, the herb would be ready for harvesting.

“Didn’t I already write to Mr. Xue, saying that once the Qidong grass is harvested and dried, I would have it sent to the county town? What brings you here so suddenly?” Qin Zhao asked.

Mr. Xue cleared his throat and rubbed his nose. “It would take another three or four days to send it, and while you might be able to wait, this herb can’t. So my grandson and I decided to close up the shop temporarily and come here to prepare the medicine ourselves.”

Qin Zhao’s expression shifted slightly, but he said nothing further.

While Qin Zhao and Mr. Xue discussed the herbs in the courtyard, Jing Li pulled Ah Yi inside the house.

The young boy was visiting the village for the first time, and everything piqued his curiosity. Jing Li led him to sit down and offered him some of the candied fruits he had been eating earlier. He then asked, “Why did you come along? Isn’t your shop in need of attention?”

“It’s fine. My shop doesn’t get much business anyway,” Ah Yi said, lowering his head slightly. “People don’t really like buying from a shop run by a shuang’er…”

Ah Yi’s herbal shop indeed saw little business. Jing Li had initially assumed it was because of its poor location, but he hadn’t considered this other factor.

In this era, even women could run shops and conduct business, yet a shop run by a shuang’er received no customers.

“Let’s not talk about that,” Ah Yi continued. “These past few days, Grandpa Xue has been quite restless. When he learned from the letter that Qin Zhao had found all the necessary herbs, he became even more anxious. After receiving the letter, he couldn’t wait another moment and immediately rented a carriage to come here.”

“It just so happened that I wanted to come along as well, so I joined him.”

Ah Yi looked a bit worried as he added, “Am I being a bit intrusive?”

“Of course not,” Jing Li replied. “I’m just happy to see you.”

Ah Yi was a charming young boy, and Jing Li had always liked him. Aside from Qin Zhao, this was the first time Jing Li had made a friend he genuinely liked in this era, so he especially cherished the relationship.

Just then, Qin Zhao entered the house with Mr. Xue.

Noticing that Jing Li and the young boy were engaged in a lively conversation, Qin Zhao’s eyes darkened slightly. He walked over to Jing Li and gently said, “There isn’t enough room for everyone here. Xiao Yu, could you go ask Chen Yanan if we can borrow that small house of his for a few days?”

Ah Yi asked, “Can I come along?”

Qin Zhao looked at him, and Ah Yi, feeling a bit embarrassed, lowered his head and said, “I… I’ve never been to this village before and wanted to take a walk around.”

Before Qin Zhao could respond, Jing Li quickly said, “Of course you can!”

Without hesitation, Jing Li pulled Ah Yi to his feet and said, “Come on, I’ll show you around the village.”

Qin Zhao: “…”

Qin Zhao opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Jing Li had already left with the young boy.

Mr. Xue, who had seated himself at the table, picked up the teapot, lifted the lid to check, and then poured himself a cup of water. “Tsk, there’s a strong scent of jealousy in here!”

Qin Zhao: “…”