Ch 44: Transmigrated to become a Koi Husband

Jing Li pulled Ah Yi out of the house.

By now, the sun was setting, and the evening glow bathed the village in warm hues, with smoke rising from the chimneys of every household.

Jing Li had become quite familiar with the villagers, and as they walked, they occasionally greeted and exchanged pleasantries with neighbors returning from the fields.

“…You arrived too late today. Tomorrow morning, I’ll take you to the stream. The scenery there is really beautiful,” Jing Li said to Ah Yi.

Ah Yi nodded and was about to respond when someone approached them and called out to Jing Li.

“Isn’t this Qin Zhao’s husband? It’s getting late; you shouldn’t be wandering around the village. It’s almost dark,” said the farmer, carrying a hoe over his shoulder, looking like he had just returned from working in the fields.

Jing Li replied, “I’m heading over to the Chen family’s place.”

The farmer said, “Going to see that Chen boy again, huh? I heard from his mother that he’s been studying with Qin Zhao recently, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Studying is a good thing. It helps to understand a lot. If my son weren’t already past the age for the village school, I would’ve sent him to the town to study too,” the farmer said with a sigh, then glanced at the boy behind Jing Li. “…And who’s this?”

Ah Yi was quite shy. Earlier, when the farmer hadn’t noticed him, he had been quietly hiding behind Jing Li.

Now that the man had mentioned him, Ah Yi’s face turned red, “I… I’m…”

Outsiders rarely visited Linxi Village, so Ah Yi’s presence naturally piqued the curiosity of the locals.

Since Ah Yi was not good with words and to avoid him being questioned further, Jing Li quickly came up with a lie: “He’s from my hometown. He came here looking for me.”

“Is he a shuang’er?” the farmer asked.

Shuang’er might look very much like a man, but they typically had a small vermilion mole somewhere on their body, often on their face, making them easy to identify.

Ah Yi had such a vermilion mole at the corner of his eye.

Hearing the man ask this, Ah Yi became visibly nervous and quietly grabbed the sleeve of Jing Li’s clothes.

Jing Li quickly said, “Uncle Wang, I really can’t stay and chat. My husband is still waiting for me to return home. I have to go!”

With that, he hurriedly pulled Ah Yi along and walked away.

The two of them continued until they turned a corner, finally slowing down.

“I’m sorry,” Jing Li said, feeling a bit guilty. “There are no shuang’ers in our village, so they’re a bit… curious.”

“It’s okay,” Ah Yi said softly, “At least… they don’t have any ill intentions.”

It was different from the city, where people either didn’t trust him as a shuang’er and wouldn’t let him treat them or came to the herbal shop just to find an excuse to get close to him and take advantage.

Jing Li, who was somewhat aware of his situation, gently patted his shoulder.

“Really, it’s okay. I’m used to it,” Ah Yi said with a slight smile. “Sometimes, I do envy people like you. I think if I didn’t have this thing on my face or if it were somewhere else, maybe life would be much easier.”

He touched the vermilion mole at the corner of his eye and said quietly, “But this was left to me by my father and dad. When I think about it that way, it doesn’t feel so bad.”

Not all shuang’ers had their vermilion mole on their face. Some had it on the back of their neck or their wrist, making it easier for them to go unnoticed and making life more convenient.

Ah Yi had always assumed Jing Li was like that.

Jing Li wasn’t sure how to explain, so he simply murmured in agreement and said, “We should get going; otherwise, we won’t make it home before dark.”

Ah Yi nodded, “Okay.”

The two of them quickly arrived at the small house where Qin Zhao used to live.

This place was quiet and suitable for studying. After Qin Zhao and Jing Li moved out, Chen Yanan moved in.

As they approached the house, they heard the sound of someone reading aloud from inside.

Qin Zhao had been away from the village for over a month due to the flood control efforts, and after returning, he had been ill for more than half a month. He hadn’t had the chance to guide Chen Yanan in his studies, nor had he been able to read himself for a long time.

However, since being tutored by Qin Zhao a few times, Chen Yanan had gradually found effective study methods and was no longer struggling as much as before.

Jing Li knocked on the door.

“Coming!” The reading inside stopped, and Chen Yanan called out.

“Who is it at this time of night?” Chen Yanan grumbled as he walked over to open the door. When he saw who was standing there, he froze.

You couldn’t blame him—anyone would be stunned to find two handsome young boys at their door unexpectedly.

Chen Yanan opened his mouth, his face turning bright red as he stammered, “Wh-wh-what are you doing here?”

Jing Li: “…”

Ah Yi: “?”

Is this guy a stutterer?

He wasn’t stuttering when he was reading earlier.

Ah Yi blinked in confusion.

Jing Li, already familiar with Chen Yanan’s behavior, sighed helplessly and explained their purpose for coming.

Chen Yanan, still reeling from the initial shock, wasn’t fully focused, his eyes darting around, unable to meet the gaze of the two in front of him.

Especially the young boy standing next to Jing Li.

Ah Yi wasn’t as strikingly beautiful as Jing Li, but he had a gentle, delicate appearance, giving off an impression of softness and shyness—a type that most people would find endearing.

“…That’s the situation. Is it okay?” Jing Li asked.

Chen Yanan, distracted, replied instinctively, “O-of course, why wouldn’t it be?”

Jing Li: “Thanks, then. Go ahead and pack your things. I’ll take Ah Yi back now, and we’ll return later.”

“Huh?” Chen Yanan looked confused, “Pack up for what?”

Jing Li smiled slightly, “To vacate the house, of course. You just agreed to let Ah Yi and his grandfather stay here for a few days, didn’t you?”

Chen Yanan: “?”

Back at home, Xue Ren (Dr. Xue) finished taking Qin Zhao’s pulse and released his hand.

“There’s nothing seriously wrong, just some blood and qi deficiency. Your body has been severely weakened over the years. Once we detoxify the Chenhuan powder, I’ll prescribe some tonics to help you recover slowly,” Xue Ren said, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

Qin Zhao replied, “Thank you, sir.”

“You really should thank me,” Xue Ren said with a smile. “Fortunately, you met me. If you had continued taking that prescription for a few more months, no amount of tonic could have nursed you back to health. I’ve always said that prescription was harmful, it’s truly…”

Qin Zhao’s gaze flickered slightly as he asked in a low voice, “Elder Xue, you seem to know a great deal about Chenhuan and its antidote?”

“Is… is that so?” Xue Ren replied, forcing a smile. He instinctively picked up the teacup at his side and took a sip. “That drug is no secret—every physician in the world knows about it.”

Qin Zhao said, “But they don’t spend years of their lives researching an antidote like you do, especially since… Chenhuan has been banned for over ten years now.”

Xue Ren froze for a moment.

Qin Zhao continued, “Since I learned I was poisoned by Chenhuan, I’ve been quietly gathering information. It’s true that Chenhuan was widespread in the Central Plains over a decade ago, but when the new emperor ascended the throne, one of his first decrees was to classify Chenhuan as a prohibited substance and to initiate a nationwide campaign to eradicate it.”

“…The court managed to destroy all traces of Chenhuan in less than half a year, and within a year and a half, they had treated everyone who had used it, freeing them from its effects. In just two years, Chenhuan disappeared entirely from the Central Plains… at least on the surface.”

Qin Zhao paused before asking, “If this drug no longer exists, why have you, Elder Xue, continued to study the antidote? And why, upon discovering that I was poisoned by Chenhuan, were you so eager to approach me and offer a cure?”

“I knew you were clever,” Xue Ren said, blowing on the few tea leaves floating in his cup. He then asked, “Why don’t you try to guess why I’m doing this?”

Qin Zhao was silent for a moment before tentatively asking, “Does Chenhuan… perhaps have some connection to you?”

“Cough, cough, cough!” Xue Ren choked on his tea, coughing for a good while before he managed to catch his breath. “Sometimes being too clever isn’t a good thing. Remember that.”

Qin Zhao replied, “You flatter me, sir.”

Xue Ren huffed and, clearing his throat, slowly said, “Chenhuan was originally concocted by me.”

Qin Zhao’s eyes darkened.

He had indeed harbored some suspicions. For instance, why was Xue Ren, a stranger, so eager to help cure him? And why had Xue Ren, who had once claimed to have treated the late emperor, created this drug in the first place?

“Don’t give me that look. I wasn’t the one who poisoned you!” Xue Ren snorted. “I have spent my life concocting remedies for the benefit of the world. There was nothing wrong with the medicine itself; the problem lies with those who misused it.”

Qin Zhao withdrew his gaze. “So, you’re saying… Chenhuan was originally a medicine meant to save lives?”

“Of course,” Xue Ren replied, leaning back in his chair. “That was over twenty years ago. At that time, I had just joined the Imperial Medical Bureau, and I was eager to make a name for myself. It so happened that the late emperor was suffering from a prolonged illness that baffled all the physicians. That was when I developed this prescription.”

Qin Zhao asked, “Did the emperor recover?”

“He did,” Xue Ren sighed, “but it wasn’t entirely a good thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“The late emperor’s illness was due to congenital weakness and overexertion. That medicine happened to energize him, making him tireless. Not just the late emperor, but also a few eunuchs in the Imperial Medical Bureau who were used as test subjects, experienced similar effects.”

A medicine that could invigorate a person, making them more productive with less effort, was understandably tempting.

Qin Zhao understood. “They abused the drug?”

“Exactly,” Xue Ren replied. “I was young at the time, and seeing that the late emperor favored the medicine, I, along with the Imperial Medical Bureau, modified the prescription at the emperor’s request to enhance its potency. The emperor was delighted and named the drug Chenhuan San, allowing it to spread among the courtiers and nobles in the capital.”

“…From the palace to the capital, from border camps to the entire Central Plains, Chenhuan San flourished for a full decade.”

“In the early years of its popularity, scholars were writing multiple essays and countless poems each day, and soldiers in the camps were invincible, brimming with morale. The entire nation was in high spirits,” Xue Ren explained. “In truth, as long as the drug wasn’t taken in excess, there was no danger. Almost everyone in the Imperial Medical Bureau, from physicians to eunuchs and palace servants, was using it. Under the watchful eyes of palace physicians, there were no issues. But we couldn’t control its use among the general population.”

Long-term use of any drug leads to diminished effects, and to achieve the same results, people began to increase their dosages. This was the root of its addictive nature.

“More and more people became addicted due to excessive use, leading to ruined families… and the rest you know.”

Qin Zhao asked, “Was the antidote later distributed also created by you?”

“Of course not!” Xue Ren’s expression darkened with displeasure. “How could I create such a harmful prescription?”

Qin Zhao frowned slightly, but Xue Ren seemed reluctant to discuss the matter further. He vaguely said, “It’s not hard to imagine. Given the severe consequences caused by the drug we developed, how could those in power keep us around?”

Qin Zhao asked, “The new emperor disbanded the Imperial Medical Bureau?”

“It wasn’t just a simple disbandment…” Xue Ren sighed. “As the situation grew increasingly out of control, the late emperor ordered the Imperial Medical Bureau to develop an antidote. But before we could produce a proper prescription, the emperor passed away.”

“After the new emperor ascended the throne, those in the Imperial Medical Bureau were either imprisoned or executed. As for me… I escaped just before the crackdown began.”

“You can say I’m cowardly or accuse me of being unprincipled, but I just can’t swallow this bitterness!” Xue Ren’s expression seemed weary as he slowly spoke, “I was the one who initially created that formula. If it weren’t for me, things wouldn’t have turned out this way.”

“I can accept paying for what I’ve done, but to die like this? I can’t accept that.”

They had developed the drug with the intention of saving lives, but in the end, they were punished because others had abused it. It was unfair.

“Besides, you’ve seen it yourself—without the Imperial Medical Bureau, look at what they’ve come up with!” Xue Ren was always displeased whenever this topic arose. “Those fools who don’t understand pharmacology will eventually harm themselves and others!”

Probably only Xue Ren dared to speak ill of the court this way. Qin Zhao felt an inexplicable discomfort, so he cleared his throat and pretended not to hear.

Xue Ren continued, “In any case, I’ve been searching for a real antidote all these years, and only recently did I finally succeed.”

Qin Zhao asked, “So, was it true that you wanted to use me to test the medicine?”

“Well…” Xue Ren rubbed his nose and chuckled awkwardly. “These days, ordinary folks can’t get their hands on Chenhuan San at all. Finding someone who has used it is even rarer. Even if someone did use it, the authorities would simply use the court’s prescribed treatment, leaving me with no opportunity to intervene.”

So, he had no choice but to loiter outside various medical clinics and pharmacies, hoping to encounter a patient who had used Chenhuan San, so he could use them for his experiments.

Until that day, when he met Jing Li, who was helping Qin Zhao sell medicine outside the pharmacy.

By now, Qin Zhao understood everything.

Qin Zhao said, “In any case, I must thank you for saving my life. If you ever need anything, I will not hesitate to assist.”

Xue Ren waved his hand dismissively. “I sought you out to test the medicine, so you don’t owe me anything. However, if you truly want to show your gratitude, I do have one request.”

Qin Zhao responded, “Please, speak.”

Suo Ren pondered for a moment, then asked, “I heard you intend to pursue officialdom?”

Qin Zhao replied, “Yes.”

Suo Ren sighed and said, “I hope you will promise me this: if my prescription truly cures you of Chenhuan San, and if you indeed make a name for yourself in the capital… when you become an official, find a way to promote my prescription. Let it be that… no one else will have to suffer as you have.”

Qin Zhao looked at Xue Ren, and after a long pause, he stood up and bowed deeply. “Your heart is that of a healer, and I will remember this.”