Ch 94: Transmigrated to become a Koi Husband

Not until the next day did Jing Li remember that he still didn’t know the young man’s name.

The young man had just brought over the steamed buns for breakfast when he subconsciously responded to the inquiry, “My name is Ying Qi—”

As shadow guards, they typically weren’t allowed to have personal names, only numbers. Back then, he was ranked seventh among the shadow guards, so everyone called him Ying Qi.

“Ying Qi?” Jing Li seemed to have a sudden realization and asked admiringly, “I can’t even handle one. Does your family have seven kids?”

Ying Qi didn’t entirely understand Jing Li’s words but still answered truthfully, “Madam, there are twelve in total.”

“Wow, that’s incredible!”

“Cough, cough…”

Qin Zhao choked on his tea, coughing violently.

How did these two manage to end up on the same wavelength?

Jing Li glanced at him indifferently and didn’t pay much attention. “Then we’ll just call you A-Qi from now on, alright?”

Ying Qi replied, “Yes, Madam.”

Having an extra person at home to help out really did make things easier.

Jing Li and Qin Zhao weren’t the kind of masters who enjoyed ordering people around, so being a servant in their household was a particularly easy job. It mainly involved periodically cleaning the house and courtyard, going out to buy daily necessities, and doing some grocery shopping.

Although A-Qi was a man, he was meticulous when it came to serving the household, working seriously and diligently, so much so that neither Qin Zhao nor Jing Li had much to worry about.

As for cooking, A-Qi could manage, but Jing Li still preferred Qin Zhao’s cooking. Thus, it became routine for Jing Li to decide what they wanted to eat, ask A-Qi to purchase the ingredients, and have Qin Zhao personally prepare the meals.

The division of labor was clear and efficient.

Even more surprisingly, the little fish fry got along very well with A-Qi.

It took the little fish fry only an hour to adapt to having a new uncle in the house, and by the next morning, he’d figured out how to tug at Uncle’s clothes, whimpering and acting cute to beg for snacks.

At these times, A-Qi could only look helplessly at Qin Zhao, flustered. “Master… Sir, this…”

Qin Zhao, calm and detached, was merciless. “No, he just had most of a millet cake and half a bowl of goat’s milk at noon. He has to wait at least another hour and a half before eating anything else.”

Left with no choice, A-Qi could only clumsily soothe the little master, who gazed at him with pitiful eyes.

Jing Li sighed helplessly. “Why is he so greedy?”

“You’re just as…” Qin Zhao’s words trailed off before he continued, “Back when you were about to transform into a human, you always wanted to eat, too.”

Jing Li blinked. “Oh, that’s true. I was always hungry back then.”

Qin Zhao nodded. “I figure it’s because the transformation consumes too much energy. But the fish fry can’t eat too much at once; he’s still young, and overeating could make him sick.”

“You’re right.” Jing Li sighed. “Poor little guy.”

…

As autumn gave way to winter, the days grew colder by the day.

The first snowfall of the season blanketed the city in early November.

The snow brought a unique charm to the city, and Qin Zhao granted Gu Heng a day off, encouraging him to go out with friends to enjoy the first snow, on the condition that he write a poem about it afterward.

As for himself, he took his husband and son out for a stroll through the streets.

“Are you sure this isn’t just an excuse for you to have fun?” Jing Li asked suspiciously.

“Absolutely,” Qin Zhao admitted readily. “It’s because I want to have fun with you two.”

The city’s climate was milder than that of the small mountain village. At this time of year, an extra padded jacket under the outer robe was enough to keep the chill away. Jing Li, with his naturally slender frame, and Qin Zhao, who was tall and lean, managed to wear three layers without looking bulky.

Their little one, however, was a different story.

Worried that the little fish fry might get cold, Jing Li had bundled him up in a small padded coat with a matching hat.

The little one, with his short arms and legs, looked like a tiny round ball in his outfit, almost ready to roll through the snow.

The fish fry waddled through the thin layer of snow, leaving a trail of tiny footprints, before diving into Jing Li’s arms. “Yah… yah!”

“I know you’re excited,” Jing Li said, hugging him and coaxing gently. “You’re already so big, yet you still can’t talk. Come on, say ‘Papa.’”

The fish fry: “Yah!”

Jing Li: “It’s ‘Papa!’”

The fish fry: “Yah yah!”

“Why do you keep bickering with him?” Qin Zhao asked helplessly, standing protectively behind the little one. “Most kids don’t speak until they’re one. Your son is only six months old.”

Jing Li muttered, “But he doesn’t look like he’s only six months old.”

They had agreed to treat the day the fish fry hatched as his birthday, making him just over six months old now. As time passed, it became clear that the fish fry was growing faster than other children. Not only could he toddle along, holding onto his two fathers for balance, but he was also taller than some one-year-olds.

He still couldn’t talk, though.

Had he also been this late to speak when he was little? Jing Li wondered, doubting himself.

Of course, Jing Li had no memory of his own childhood, nor had anyone ever told him about it.

In fact, he rarely thought about his past life in the modern world anymore. Perhaps it was because there was nothing worth missing. Here, it was different. He had a lover, a child, and friends. These gave him a sense of belonging, allowing him to fully integrate into this world.

It felt as though he was meant to live here all along.

“What are you thinking about?” Qin Zhao walked over, gently brushing a loose strand of hair behind Jing Li’s ear.

Jing Li glanced up at him, then at the little fish fry, who was looking more and more like Qin Zhao with each passing day. He chuckled. “I was just wondering why he didn’t inherit your intelligence at all.”

“I think he’s quite smart,” Qin Zhao said warmly. “Not every child can learn to walk at six months.”

“True, and even if he’s not smart, what can we do? It’s too late to return him now.”

Jing Li poked the fish fry’s chubby cheek and laughed. “Anyway, you’ve already raised one fool. Adding another doesn’t matter.”

The fish fry, who had just learned to take a few steps, couldn’t stay still. He wriggled out of Jing Li’s arms and toddled off on his short legs.

“Hey, you—” Jing Li hadn’t finished speaking before the fish fry tripped and fell headfirst into the soft snow.

All that was left were two short legs kicking around in the air.

Qin Zhao, caught between laughter and exasperation, pulled the baby out and patted the snow off him.

“I was wrong. He’s way dumber than me,” Jing Li remarked. “Silly fish.”

The fish fry probably didn’t understand, laughing gleefully as if he hadn’t just face-planted.

The family played in the snow for a while before heading to the nearest fabric shop. With winter approaching, Qin Zhao wanted to get some new clothes made for the fish fry.

Jing Li hefted their round little baby in his arms and bounced him slightly, commenting disdainfully, “He feels heavier again.”

“Does he? I didn’t notice,” Qin Zhao replied, still focused on selecting fabric for the winter clothes. Without turning, he added, “But I did notice that a piece of pastry was missing from the kitchen this morning. Maybe ask if A-Qi sneaked it to the fish fry again.”

Jing Li exchanged a guilty glance with the fish fry in his arms and quickly averted his gaze. “Probably. I’ll ask him later.”

Qin Zhao was too absorbed in comparing two similar shades of red fabric to catch the obvious hint of guilt in Jing Li’s tone.

After picking out the fabric, Qin Zhao handed the pieces to the shop owner along with a pre-drawn design. “I’ll trouble you with this.”

“No trouble at all,” the shop owner said, accepting the deposit and the design with a smile. “I’ll deliver them to your residence once they’re finished.”

Most of the fabric shops in the city were owned by the Gu family. Everyone now knew that Qin Zhao was the private tutor of young master Gu, so they treated him with the utmost respect.

Jing Li glanced at the pile of fabric and frowned. “Weren’t we here to buy clothes for the fish fry? Why do most of these seem to be for me?”

Qin Zhao had a penchant for dressing Jing Li in various shades of red, especially vibrant hues that matched his scales. He had bought several different kinds of red fabric in one go.

With the designs Qin Zhao had personally drawn, each garment would look unique but still perfectly suited to Jing Li.

“I didn’t forget the little fish fry. There’s fabric for him too,” Qin Zhao replied without a trace of guilt. “Besides, these materials can work for him as well.”

Jing Li squinted at him suspiciously.

Qin Zhao always said that, yet every time the fabric shop delivered the finished garments, the majority were invariably for Jing Li.

Their wardrobe was practically bursting at the seams.

Qin Zhao took the little fry from Jing Li’s arms, ready to leave, but the fabric shop owner called after them, “Oh, Mr. Qin, it’s best not to bring the young master out too often these days.”

The two paused and turned back. “Why?”

“I heard from the clinic staff that the weather has turned colder, and many people in the city have caught typhoid fever, with persistent high fevers. This illness spreads easily, especially to the frail, the elderly, and children. You need to be cautious.” The shop owner sighed. “My own child is only two years old, and I haven’t dared to let him go outside for several days.”

Qin Zhao nodded. “Understood. Thank you for the warning.”

Perhaps due to inheriting Jing Li’s constitution, the fish fry had never been sick.

Still, to avoid any chance of exposure, Qin Zhao sent A-Qi to the clinic to fetch herbs for prevention and warmth. After brewing the medicine, each of the three adults drank a bowl, and even the little fish fry had a few sips after the dose was reduced for him.

However, the outbreak of typhoid fever was relentless. Since most of the affected were elderly or children, recovery was slow, and the disease spread rapidly, soon engulfing the entire city.

“If you feel feverish or unwell, let me know immediately,” Qin Zhao instructed Jing Li after checking his pulse.

These days, Qin Zhao checked everyone’s pulse daily and made sure they continued drinking the preventative decoction.

“I know,” Jing Li replied. He had just put the fish fry to sleep and said worriedly, “I heard that Aunt Wang’s grandson next door has been feverish for several days.”

Qin Zhao gently reassured him, “The little fish fry is healthy and hasn’t been in contact with any sick individuals. Don’t worry.”

Jing Li nodded. “I understand.”

Satisfied, Qin Zhao rose to leave.

Jing Li reached out and stopped him. “You… you’re still going to sleep in the study tonight?”

Qin Zhao nodded. “Since I’ve been out and about, it’s better not to stay too close to you all these days, just in case I bring anything back from outside.”

“But…” Jing Li hesitated.

“It’s fine.” Qin Zhao patted the back of his hand and spoke gently. “This illness is due to the cold weather. Once it warms up, it will pass. Rest early. I’ll head out now.”

With that, he turned and left. Jing Li watched his retreating figure, a worried frown on his face.

For the past few days, Qin Zhao had stopped visiting the Gu residence, but earlier, before the outbreak worsened, he had been teaching there daily. Out of caution, Qin Zhao had been sleeping in a separate room since then.

When Qin Zhao returned to the study, a figure was already waiting inside.

A-Qi was waiting inside the room.

Qin Zhao asked, “What is it?”

A-Qi handed him a letter. “This is something Master Gu asked me to deliver.”

Ever since A-Qi had come to work for him, communicating with Gu Changzhou had become much more convenient; he could simply have A-Qi deliver messages directly.

Qin Zhao took the letter, and A-Qi continued, “There’s one more thing.”

“Master Gu said he just received news that General Xiao Yue’s mother has passed away, and the general will be returning to his hometown to personally handle the funeral arrangements,” A-Qi reported. “He will pass through Jiangling Prefecture on the way.”

Qin Zhao’s movements paused.

He smiled faintly. “He still hasn’t given up on targeting General Xiao, has he?”

A-Qi lowered his gaze and remained silent.

Qin Zhao studied him for a moment before asking, “When will he arrive?”

“Before the Lantern Festival,” A-Qi replied.

Qin Zhao merely nodded and said nothing more.

A-Qi went into the inner room to prepare the bed, while Qin Zhao unfolded the letter and quickly read through its contents. He pressed his fingers against his temple, looking fatigued.

The intelligence network had been destroyed once before, and with years of dormancy in between, it wasn’t easy to fully restore it. Lately, Qin Zhao had been deeply troubled by this issue.

He tossed the letter into the brazier, watching it burn. A-Qi came out of the inner room and said, “Sir, the bed is ready.”

A-Qi had recently grown accustomed to addressing Qin Zhao this way and no longer made mistakes.

Qin Zhao turned to look at him, smiling. “Having you handle these tasks feels like a waste of your talents.”

A-Qi lowered his head. “Being able to stay by your side is my lifelong wish. Whatever the task, it’s all the same to me.”

That night, Qin Zhao unexpectedly dreamed again.

The scenes in the dream were chaotic, alternating between towering pavilions that pierced the clouds and endless noise and commotion.

—— “Poisoned? When were you poisoned? How could this be—”

—— “An ambush! Hurry, leave now! Protect the prince and go!”

The angry shouts and sounds of battle vanished in an instant. In the suffocating darkness, Qin Zhao heard himself say softly:

“With power slipping through my hands, as long as I stay, this land will never find peace. This is the best solution.”

“…This is also the outcome he wanted.”

Qin Zhao abruptly opened his eyes, his mind buzzing. It took a while before he realized someone was gently calling his name: “Qin Zhao… Qin Zhao!”

He turned his head and saw a worried figure by his side.

“How…” Qin Zhao opened his mouth but couldn’t make a sound. He only then realized his throat was parched and painfully sore.

Jing Li held a silk handkerchief in his hand, gently wiping the sweat from Qin Zhao’s forehead. In a low voice, he said, “You’re running a fever.”

Qin Zhao froze.

It seemed the typhoid fever hadn’t gone after his son first; instead, it had struck him.

He gave a weak, bitter smile, wanting to tell Jing Li to stay away and to ask if the little fish fry had caught the illness from him. But Qin Zhao’s mind was hazy, and before he could speak, he sank back into unconsciousness.

The entire day passed with Qin Zhao in a feverish sleep.

It had been a long time since he’d been this sick. When he finally regained consciousness, the sky outside was completely dark.

Jing Li had fallen asleep by his bedside, his hands tightly clasping Qin Zhao’s.

Qin Zhao moved his fingers slightly, and Jing Li woke immediately.

Jing Li raised a hand to check Qin Zhao’s forehead, his expression filled with concern. “You’re still burning up.”

“Are you hungry?” Jing Li asked as he helped Qin Zhao sip some warm water. “I had A-Qi make some porridge. You should eat a little.”

The warm water soothed Qin Zhao’s throat slightly, and he managed to ask, “Why are you here? What if…”

“Where else would I be if not here?”

They were still in the study. On the table outside, porridge was kept warm. Jing Li fetched a bowl and brought it over. “You didn’t wake up all morning. A-Qi found out you had a fever when he came in to check on you.”

“The doctor’s already been here and prescribed medicine. Eat something first before you take it.”

Jing Li tried to help him sit up, but Qin Zhao leaned away. “What if I infect you—”

“I’ve been in this room all day. If I was going to catch it, I would’ve by now.” Jing Li chuckled lightly. “You think everyone’s as fragile as you, always falling sick?”

Jing Li propped Qin Zhao up, placing two cushions behind his back for support before adding, “Your son hasn’t seen his papa all day. He’s already cried outside the door twice. I didn’t let him in, though—A-Qi’s looking after him.”

“They say this illness is most likely to infect frail old people and children, but it turns out the only one who fell sick in this household is you.” Jing Li held up the bowl of porridge and said helplessly, “So, tell me—are you the old person, or the child?”

Qin Zhao: “…”