Ch 75: Transmigrated to become a Koi Husband

In front of everyone, Qin Zhao couldn’t just kick him out, even if he was unwilling.

Feeling somewhat helpless, Qin Zhao said, “Sit down.”

Thus, under the watchful eyes of the other students, Jing Li leisurely took a seat in the last row of the classroom.

The class continued.

Mr. Qin seemed entirely unfazed by his husband’s arrival and went on teaching as usual.

An hour later, Qin Zhao suddenly closed his book.

“That’s it for today’s lecture. Now, we’ll have an in-class exam,” Qin Zhao announced calmly.

The students: “???”

Didn’t we just have a test recently???

Qin Zhao continued, “For the exam, choose a passage from Extended Maxims and write an interpretation in 300 characters. You may refer to your books. There’s an hour left before dismissal, so you can go home once you’re done.”

Writing an essay interpreting classic text passages in this manner follows the jingyi style of the imperial exams.

Qin Zhao made it easier by letting students choose their passages and not specifying a style.

However, in the past six months at the elementary academy, the students had only been memorizing and interpreting texts, never writing essays on their meanings. The classroom was immediately filled with grumbles and complaints.

Qin Zhao ignored them entirely. With a simple glance around, the room instantly fell silent.

Soon, the sounds of paper, ink, and pages being flipped filled the room.

Qin Zhao strolled slowly among the desks while the students scratched their heads, fully focused on their essays, not paying attention to his actions.

He stopped in front of Jing Li.

The desk in front of Jing Li was spotless—he hadn’t even taken out paper or ink. When Qin Zhao approached, he looked up at him innocently.

The desks in the classroom were very low, with no chairs. There was only a mat on the ground, and everyone sat kneeling in front of their desks. Kneeling like that was fine for a short while, but over time, your legs would go numb.

Moreover, Jing Li was pregnant, making it even harder for him to endure this.

Unable to keep kneeling, he simply hugged his knees and sat on the cold mat, looking rather small and pitiful.

Qin Zhao sighed softly and sat down beside him, pulling him into his arms.

His warm hand rested on Jing Li’s lower back, gently massaging it. When he pressed on a sore spot, Jing Li couldn’t help but shudder. “Ah—”

“Shh,” Qin Zhao’s low voice sounded in his ear, barely audible. “People might get the wrong idea if they hear.”

Then stop touching me!

Jing Li glared at him, feeling wronged.

Qin Zhao, seemingly oblivious, continued to massage his back.

His pressure was gentle, movements unhurried, yet unbearable in a way. Jing Li couldn’t stand being touched like this, especially in the classroom. He quickly softened, his patience wearing thin, and grabbed Qin Zhao’s wrist. “Please, stop…”

Qin Zhao asked, “Why did you come looking for me?”

He had a feeling something was off.

Xiao Yu usually listened to him obediently. Qin Zhao had clearly told him not to come to the classroom today, and without a specific reason, Jing Li wouldn’t have disobeyed.

Qin Zhao thought back to what he had said and done before leaving home, but couldn’t figure out what might have provoked him.

Jing Li suddenly remembered the reason he had come and regained a bit of his assertiveness, saying, “Let go.”

His voice was slightly louder than intended, and someone nearby heard him, glanced back, then quickly turned away upon seeing them, feeling awkward.

Qin Zhao seemed unbothered, only raising an eyebrow as he stared into Jing Li’s eyes.

He had a natural, commanding presence; even without doing anything, it compelled respect and submission from others.

Jing Li held his gaze, refusing to yield until, finally, Qin Zhao released his grip.

Straightening up, Qin Zhao sat beside Jing Li, who pressed his lips together, steeling himself as he took a book from his bag and pushed it toward Qin Zhao.

When Qin Zhao’s eyes fell on the book, his body noticeably stiffened.

The book Jing Li had pulled out was Secrets of the Boudoir.

Previously, Jing Li hadn’t known the language of this era and couldn’t read what was written on the cover. Qin Zhao had casually lied about it, and over time, Jing Li had even forgotten the book existed.

But today, upon seeing it again, he realized that the character on the cover wasn’t “court” (闱), but “boudoir” (闺).

It was a romance book.

If it were just a romance book, Jing Li wouldn’t have been so upset.

After all, Qin Zhao was a man, and it wasn’t unusual for him to read such things. Jing Li himself had snuck a few peeks out of curiosity, but…

The more he read, the more familiar the content felt.

Several methods described in the book were ones Qin Zhao had used on him before.

It was too much.

Frustrated and annoyed, Jing Li couldn’t resist seeking Qin Zhao out for an explanation.

The always-unflappable Mr. Qin was momentarily speechless. Jing Li felt a surge of satisfaction, sitting up a little straighter. “Doesn’t Mister have anything to say for himself?”

Qin Zhao looked at his Xiao Yu’s triumphant expression and shook his head helplessly. “No need to explain. I bought the book. I accept my punishment.”

Jing Li had expected this response. He glanced around the classroom and said, “And today’s exam assignment…”

“I’ll write it for you.”

Jing Li smirked, “Then start now.”

Qin Zhao’s eyes glinted with intrigue, uncertain what Little Fish was planning. “Just that?”

Jing Li smiled. “Just that.”

Although doubtful, Qin Zhao kept his word. He took out Jing Li’s brush, ink, and paper, and began to prepare the ink.

Qin Zhao’s posture was straight, with his core held tight and his back straight, exuding poise and grace. In contrast, Jing Li relaxed, half-leaning against him in an easy, comfortable manner.

Resting his head on Qin Zhao’s shoulder, Jing Li watched as he finished preparing the ink and started writing.

Qin Zhao didn’t need a draft, even for exam-style essays. This simple piece flowed from his pen effortlessly, and in moments, he had already written several lines.

Suddenly, Qin Zhao’s brush paused, and a blot of ink spread across the pristine white paper.

He took a deep breath. “You…”

Jing Li blinked innocently. “What’s wrong?”

Qin Zhao turned his head and cast him a deep look.

His Xiao Yu was getting bolder—he’d just secretly blown into his ear.

Where had he learned such a mischievous trick?

“Nothing.” Qin Zhao withdrew his gaze, pulling out another sheet of paper.

Jing Li saw the redness at the base of Qin Zhao’s ears and nearly burst into laughter if not for the inappropriate setting.

He’d picked up all of these tricks from The Fox Spirit’s Requited Love, where the fox spirit seduced Wang Sheng just like this while he was studying.

Clearly, it worked well.

The classroom was quiet, with only the sounds of pens on paper and pages turning, giving Jing Li plenty of cover. Remembering passages from the storybook, he slowly traced his finger from Qin Zhao’s reddened ear down to his neck.

Qin Zhao’s ears flushed an even deeper red.

But Qin Zhao’s self-control was clearly stronger than that of the scholar in the story. His writing slowed, but he still completed the essay with unflustered steadiness.

Jing Li wasn’t satisfied.

If those moves hadn’t worked, then there was only one thing left…

Swallowing nervously, Jing Li’s hand drifted lower from Qin Zhao’s waist, inching downward.

This was his first time taking the initiative like this, and his fingers trembled with anxiety. His hand trailed along the fabric of Qin Zhao’s robe, and just as he was about to reach his target, his wrist was suddenly gripped firmly.

Qin Zhao held Jing Li’s wrist in his left hand, lowered his brush with his right, and said in a calm tone, “I’m finished.”

Jing Li: “…”

Jing Li jerked his hand back. “I-I know.”

Qin Zhao’s expression remained unaffected as he set the completed paper aside to dry. Jing Li stole a guilty glance at him before quickly looking away.

Though he hadn’t actually touched anything, he’d felt the heat there.

He might have taken things too far.

The rest of the time, Jing Li was on edge, unable to focus.

Fortunately, soon enough, students began finishing their essays and handing them in one by one. Qin Zhao’s topic was neither too easy nor too difficult. For those who could write, an hour was plenty; for those who couldn’t, extra time wouldn’t have helped.

As the dismissal bell sounded, all the students had turned in their essays.

Since the essays were handed in at different times, Qin Zhao remained seated at Jing Li’s spot and began grading on the spot.

Qin Zhao graded quickly, sorting the submitted essays into two stacks on the desk. Jing Li’s curiosity was piqued, and he started flipping through the papers Qin Zhao had categorized.

Once the last student handed in their essay and left, Jing Li asked, “Is this a placement test?”

Qin Zhao looked up. “What do you mean?”

“To gauge their levels,” Jing Li pointed to one of the stacks. “This side is clearly better. Are you planning to split them into two classes?”

Qin Zhao nodded. “Yes.”

Since the elementary academy opened over half a year ago, the number of students had grown from around a dozen to more than thirty.

With students progressing at different rates, the village chief had built an additional room next door to accommodate new students.

However, that solution alone wasn’t sufficient.

After six months of learning, a gap had become apparent in the progress of the initial group of students. Some students were naturally gifted and quick to absorb knowledge, while others struggled to keep up.

Allowing those who were lagging behind to continue studying with the faster students would only widen the gap, as had happened with Chen Yanan before.

Thus, Qin Zhao wanted to use this exam to separate the students by level.

Jing Li said, “It’s a good idea to separate them, but does the village have enough teachers for that?”

“There will be soon.”

Qin Zhao tapped his finger on the stack of higher-level essays.

“You mean to have the advanced students teach?” Jing Li caught on. “That’s a good idea. The foundation of elementary education starts with literacy, and once a student learns it, they can teach others.”

Qin Zhao nodded.

Jing Li leaned over the desk, whispering, “So you didn’t stop the class just to comfort me…”

He had thought Qin Zhao had noticed him feeling uncomfortable sitting there and had dismissed the class early to soothe him.

With a resigned sigh, Jing Li said, “Let’s go home. I’m starving.”

He stood up to leave but was stopped by Qin Zhao, who looked up at him with calm eyes. “And you think you can just leave?”

Jing Li met his gaze, and realization dawned on him, his ears instantly reddening.

“Qin Zhao, this is a classroom!”

Qin Zhao’s voice was steady, with an undertone of amusement. “You’re aware it’s a classroom?”

Jing Li: “…”

He had indeed started it.

Seeing Jing Li’s silence, Qin Zhao gently pulled him closer, trapping him between himself and the low desk. There was no hiding anything in this close proximity; the intense heat radiating from Qin Zhao nearly scorched Jing Li.

Jing Li shrank back. “Why… why are you still…”

“Yes,” Qin Zhao murmured, leaning in with a hint of mischief, his voice lowered and sounding slightly aggrieved. “It’s been like this from the beginning.”

From the moment Jing Li had blown that teasing breath into his ear, Qin Zhao hadn’t been able to settle.

Yet he had still managed to finish the essay, grade all the students’ assignments, and even divide them by skill level.

Thinking about all of this made Jing Li’s legs feel weak, and he looked away awkwardly. “Not… not here. Let’s go home…”

Qin Zhao placed a soft kiss by Jing Li’s lips and whispered, “Will you help me at home?”

“Yes… at home…” Jing Li, his mind muddled by Qin Zhao’s kiss, murmured obediently, “I’ll help you at home.”