Ch 64: Transmigrated to become a Koi Husband

Qin Zhao returned to the pharmacy in the outer courtyard. At the moment, there were no customers, and Elder Xue was nowhere to be found, likely sneaking off for some peace and quiet. A Yi was leaning against the counter, reading a medical book.

When he saw Qin Zhao come in, A Yi asked, “Brother Qin, is Jing Li feeling better?”

Qin Zhao paused slightly before replying, “He’s much better.”

These past few days, Qin Zhao had been busy helping Jing Li with “private matters,” and couldn’t leave his side. He had to lie, claiming that Jing Li’s condition had worsened, and that he was bedridden, requiring Qin Zhao’s constant care.

As for why someone so ill wasn’t taking medicine and only needed Qin Zhao’s presence—there was no explanation for that.

Fortunately, A Yi, being simple-minded and inexperienced with the world, didn’t question the story.

Still, A Yi was a bit concerned. “It’s been three or four days now, are you sure he’s alright? I… I’d like to go check on him.”

“No need,” Qin Zhao replied calmly. “He just fell asleep. You can visit him later.”

A Yi nodded. “Alright.”

Suddenly, there were voices outside the pharmacy. “This is the place, come on!” Both Qin Zhao and A Yi turned to look toward the door.

As a shuang’er working in the county, A Yi had faced his fair share of troublemakers who came to the shop just to cause problems. Hearing the commotion, he instinctively thought it might be another such incident, and tensed up.

But when he saw the people coming, he relaxed.

Three scholars walked in, dressed plainly and looking rather frail. One of them was even wearing patched-up clothes. They were nothing like the local hoodlums who liked to stir up trouble.

The person leading the group was someone Qin Zhao had seen before—it was the scholar who had come to seek medicine from him a few days ago.

The scholar immediately spotted Qin Zhao and called out, “Doctor Qin!”

He was dressed the same as a few days ago, but his complexion had improved significantly.

Qin Zhao asked, “How is your illness?”

“Doctor, you really have miraculous hands,” the scholar said, his voice much steadier now and no longer accompanied by harsh coughing. “After taking the medicine you prescribed, I slept for half a day, and when I woke up, I felt much better. I’ve come today for a follow-up.”

Qin Zhao nodded, took his pulse, and said, “Your condition has improved greatly, but you still need to continue the treatment for now to prevent a relapse. I’ll prescribe a different medicine for you this time. Take it for seven days, and if you’re not fully recovered by then, come see me again.”

The scholar, now fully trusting Qin Zhao, nodded repeatedly. “I’ll do exactly as you say.”

Qin Zhao took up his pen to write the prescription. Meanwhile, the scholar pulled something from his sleeve and placed it in front of Qin Zhao.

It was a promissory note with a handprint on it.

The scholar explained, “Doctor Qin, you were kind enough not to charge me for the consultation that day, but I don’t want to take advantage of your generosity. It’s just… things have been tight for me lately. After the county exam, I will definitely come back to repay you.”

He added, “As you can see, I’ve already written out an IOU.”

The promissory note was clearly written, stating that after the county exam, within one month, He Zhixing would repay the medical fee to Qin Zhao.

At the bottom, the scholar’s name was signed—He Zhixing.

Qin Zhao shook his head. “I agreed not to charge you for the consultation, and I won’t go back on my word. I won’t accept this promissory note.”

“But…” He Zhixing hesitated for a moment before speaking quietly, “To be honest, aside from this follow-up, I have another favor to ask.”

He turned slightly and gestured to the two people behind him. “These are my classmates. They’ve also caught colds recently, so… I was hoping Doctor Qin could take a look at them as well.”

The county exam was in early February, still more than a month away. This period was critical, and if they fell ill now, all their hard work would be in vain.

Though He Zhixing came from a poor family, he understood how to handle such matters. Qin Zhao’s help the first time was out of kindness, but now that he was asking for more, he knew he needed to offer something in return.

Qin Zhao understood what He Zhixing was thinking but said, “I’m just an employee. You’ll need to discuss this with the owner.”

The “owner” he referred to was, of course, A Yi.

Suddenly the focus of several pairs of eyes, A Yi blushed slightly and nervously said, “Q-Qin Zhao can decide these matters on his own.”

“Very well,” Qin Zhao said. “In that case, I’ll charge 50 wen per person. If you have more classmates who are unwell, feel free to bring them before the county exam, and the price will remain the same.”

As for what would happen after the county exam—whether he would still be there or if they would hire another doctor—those decisions would be up to A Yi.

Hearing this, the three scholars were shocked.

Even the cheapest clinic in the county charged at least 100 wen for a consultation, yet this doctor was only asking for 50?

It was half the usual price!

With such a low fee, even He Zhixing didn’t need to write another promissory note—he could pay the consultation fee right away.

The group expressed their gratitude repeatedly. Qin Zhao simply said, “Take a seat.”

He checked the pulses of the two classmates He Zhixing had brought along.

Their illnesses were quite similar.

It was nothing more than the cold weather combined with their exhaustion from studying, neglecting their health and not dressing properly, which had caused the cold to seep into their bodies.

After finishing the examinations and prescribing a few herbal remedies, along with some advice on how to take care of themselves, Qin Zhao sent them on their way.

A Yi finished recording the transaction at the counter and took 90 wen from the collected fees, handing it to Qin Zhao.

He said, “I only asked you to help with the shop, but as for the rest, that’s money you earned yourself. It should all go to you.”

Qin Zhao didn’t decline.

He had been worrying about how to earn money over the next few months, and now that an opportunity had come his way, it was a welcome relief.

However, his intent in offering lower fees was to help these poor scholars a little, so the money earned wasn’t much, still far from his ultimate goal.

Soon, it was time to close up the shop. After locking up, Qin Zhao went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Given Jing Li’s unstable condition over the past few days, both Qin Zhao and Jing Li had been eating in their own rooms. Once Qin Zhao finished cooking, he brought A Yi’s and Elder Xue’s portions to them before taking his and Jing Li’s meals back to the side courtyard.

As expected, Jing Li wasn’t in his room.

Qin Zhao sighed softly, set the food down, and turned to head toward the adjacent bathhouse.

Sure enough, his little fish was still asleep in the bath.

Before leaving earlier, Qin Zhao had changed the water, but it had long since gone cold. Fortunately, like the bedroom, the bathhouse was heated by an underfloor stove, so it wasn’t too chilly.

Jing Li remained in his half-human, half-fish form, sprawled at the edge of the pool, fast asleep.

His hair was loose, cascading down his back, covering most of his upper body. Below his slender waist, his fish tail floated in the water, its fins fanned out like silk, gently trembling with each breath.

Qin Zhao let out a silent sigh and squatted down beside him.

“Xiao Yu, wake up.” He lightly pinched Jing Li’s cheek and softly called to him.

Jing Li furrowed his brow in annoyance and mumbled sleepily, “Is it time to eat?”

Qin Zhao: “…”

Ever since coming to the county, with no more farm work to do, Jing Li had finally achieved his dream life of eating and sleeping, then sleeping and eating.

Without saying another word, Qin Zhao lifted him out of the water, setting him to sit by the edge of the pool. He grabbed a towel and began drying Jing Li’s hair.

Still half-dazed from sleep, Jing Li’s expression was a bit confused.

His lower half, still in fish form, remained in the water, his tail swaying unconsciously.

As his mind gradually cleared, Jing Li suddenly remembered something and murmured, “Qin Zhao… I think I just had a dream.”

Qin Zhao asked, “What dream?”

“I dreamt of a bunch of little fish calling me ‘dad’ and chasing after me.” Jing Li shuddered, shrinking his neck in fear. “There must have been hundreds of them. It was terrifying.”

Qin Zhao: “…”

Recalling the scene from his dream, Jing Li still felt his scalp tingle.

In the dream, a swarm of tiny fish no bigger than his pinky surrounded him, all chattering and calling him “dad” in their childish voices, nearly scaring him to faint on the spot.

After drying his hair, Qin Zhao sighed helplessly, “If you keep forgetting to clean up, you might actually end up with hundreds or thousands of little fish. Let’s see what you’ll do then.”

“That won’t happen,” Jing Li retorted, slapping the water with his tail in annoyance. “I’m a man. I can’t get pregnant.”

Definitely not.

Having slept the entire afternoon, Jing Li now felt his stomach growling with hunger. He threw on a simple robe and dragged Qin Zhao back to the room for dinner.

While they ate, Qin Zhao casually mentioned what had happened at the pharmacy earlier that day.

After hearing about Qin Zhao’s decision on the consultation fees, Jing Li commented, “Thirty wen isn’t a small amount. There must be plenty of students in the county. If you charge each person thirty wen, you could make a decent sum.”

The cost of living in the county was vastly different from the village, and Jing Li hadn’t quite adjusted his thinking.

Back in the village, earning thirty wen would take hours of hard work.

“But it’s still not enough,” Qin Zhao added.

Since discovering how comfortable life in the county was, Jing Li had secretly asked A Yi about the price of houses in the area.

Qin Zhao had spent over ten guan building the bamboo courtyard back in the village, using high-quality materials. Even then, that cost would be far less than what a typical villager would spend.

In the county, that same amount would only buy a single room.

To purchase a house with a courtyard, they would need at least fifty taels.

Fifty taels compared to thirty wen was an astronomical gap.

Jing Li felt a bit troubled, especially since he didn’t have any useful skills, and with his current physical condition, he couldn’t go out to earn money.

If only there were a way for Qin Zhao to make more money without exhausting himself…

Just as he was pondering this, a thought suddenly struck him. “You said earlier that those scholars all had similar ailments. Why not just sell ready-made pills to them? They could use them to treat their illnesses or as a preventative measure. Wouldn’t that be easier?”

Qin Zhao’s eyes flickered. “You mean selling prepared cold-prevention medicine?”

Jing Li nodded. “Yes, exactly. Doesn’t anyone do that around here?”

Back when he was still in the modern world, Jing Li had encountered similar situations. As exams approached, many people would neglect their health while cramming for tests, only to fall ill right before the exams. And since everyone studied together, once one person got sick, it was easy for the illness to spread.

As a result, many people would take preventive medicine before exams.

“This is the imperial exam we’re talking about. Those candidates are already pressed for time with their studies. They definitely wouldn’t want to waste even half an hour to come and see you, and buying herbs to brew at home would take even more time,” Jing Li said. “If we can make it into pills, it would save a lot of time—both in buying and taking the medicine.”

Qin Zhao was deep in thought.

What Jing Li said made a lot of sense.

The scholars who came to the pharmacy today were in the same situation. Coming from humble backgrounds, they studied relentlessly, eager to make the most of every moment. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have fallen sick one after another.

The only reason they sought medical help was because their conditions had worsened to the point where they had no choice. If it were a milder illness, they would have chosen to tough it out to save both time and money.

This was also why, during every imperial exam, some candidates would collapse or even die from illness.

“We need a formula that not only treats but also prevents colds,” Qin Zhao said.

Such formulas existed, but so far, no one had heard of them being made into ready-to-sell pills.

If they could find a suitable recipe and mass-produce it into pills, the profit would surely be significant.

Jing Li was quite confident about this. “There’s definitely a way.”

He didn’t understand much about medicine, but he knew that many modern pharmaceutical pills were originally derived from traditional herbal formulas. All Qin Zhao needed to do was find the optimal formula from those existing recipes.

“I can help you,” Jing Li added enthusiastically.

Ever since he had taken control of the household finances, Jing Li had become quite passionate about making money. The moment someone brought up a money-making idea, his enthusiasm surged.

Suddenly, he couldn’t even focus on finishing his meal. He hastily stuffed down the last bites and got up, eager to search for medical books.

Qin Zhao quickly pulled him back. “There’s no rush for this.”

This wasn’t something they could do on their own.

Elder Xue was the most knowledgeable about medicinal formulas, and with his assistance, they could achieve results much faster. Once the formula was determined, they would also need A Yi to provide the necessary herbs.

Therefore, they needed to discuss the plan with both of them first.

Qin Zhao pulled Jing Li onto his lap, trapping him between himself and the edge of the table, smiling as he asked, “You’re not feeling uncomfortable anymore?”

Jing Li was momentarily stunned, staring at him in a daze.

It seemed… he really wasn’t as uncomfortable as before.

A few days ago, even the slightest touch would bother him, and just a glance from Qin Zhao felt unbearable. But now…

“Touch me again,” Jing Li said.

Qin Zhao: “…”

“Hurry up!” Jing Li was eager to confirm if he had really recovered. He grabbed Qin Zhao’s hand and placed it on his waist. “Try it. I think I’m really—mmph!”

Qin Zhao slipped his hand under Jing Li’s clothes without hesitation.

“Not— not there!”

Qin Zhao’s tone remained calm. “Then where do you want me to touch? Here?”

“No…” Jing Li’s legs weakened, and his forehead fell against Qin Zhao’s shoulder. He was once again reminded of the phrase, “hoist with one’s own petard.” “Let go… let me go…”

How could he endure being touched like this in such a sensitive spot?

“You’re reacting. Don’t want it?”

“…Mm…”

“Tell me, Xiao Yu. You don’t want it?”

“…Want it.”

Jing Li’s feelings weren’t wrong. In the following days, his body did gradually recover. As long as Qin Zhao didn’t deliberately tease him, there were no more unusual reactions.

With this, Qin Zhao was finally able to fully focus on the plan to develop the pills.

The day after making the decision, he discussed the idea with A Yi and Elder Xue. Both of them agreed it was a feasible plan and readily supported it.

The four of them began searching through medical books for the right formula, working efficiently. With the guidance of Old Master Xue, an experienced imperial physician, Qin Zhao was able to finalize a brand-new prescription in just three days.

When He Zhixing recommended more scholars to see Qin Zhao for treatment, they introduced the newly prepared pills.

“Can this really cure my illness?” The patient took the pills, looking skeptical. “…And it’s so cheap.”

Even the larger medical halls in the county rarely sold such pre-made medicine. The locals were used to drinking herbal decoctions and naturally harbored some resistance and doubt toward pills.

Moreover, decoctions were typically taken only once or twice a day, whereas the pills required three doses daily, three pills per dose, yet the price was nearly half that of decoctions.

Could there really be such a good deal?

Qin Zhao had anticipated that the new pills wouldn’t easily gain trust, so he said, “Take these pills home and use them for three days. If your condition doesn’t improve, I’ll refund both the consultation fee and the cost of the medicine.”

Only then did the patient, still somewhat doubtful, leave.

Jing Li watched the patient’s retreating figure and muttered, “I still think you’re selling them too cheaply.”

Three doses a day, three pills per dose—nine pills a day. Qin Zhao had packaged the nine pills into small packets, selling each for 18 wen.

But the cost of making nine pills was almost 10 wen, meaning the net profit per pill was less than a single wen.

Qin Zhao smiled at Jing Li’s remark. “I have my reasons for doing it this way.”

A Yi looked up from the account book and asked, “Is it because the medicine is new, and you need to use low prices to attract buyers?”

Jing Li added, “But you could have priced it at 25 or 26 wen. The cold medicine they usually take costs 30 wen a day.”

Qin Zhao asked, “If the prices were similar, would they still choose the pills over the decoction?”

Jing Li blinked, finally understanding.

“And besides…” Qin Zhao said leisurely, “I have other ways to increase profits.”