Ch 101: Transmigrated to become a Koi Husband

Boss Chang led Jing Li into the inner hall of the bookshop.

From the outside, the bookshop appeared somewhat run-down, but the interior revealed a surprising charm. A square courtyard was connected to a two-story building, with the warm winter sunlight streaming in through the skylight, brightening the entire space.

It couldn’t be described as luxurious, but it was cozy.

Jing Li glanced around and asked, “Huh, Boss Chang, isn’t your younger brother here?”

“He… he’s not here.” Boss Chang’s expression stiffened at the mention of his brother. He quickly turned away to fetch the teapot, as if trying to conceal something. “A while ago, I found him a job through some connections—he’s out of the city now, traveling with merchants to deliver goods.”

Jing Li nodded. “I see.”

This wasn’t Jing Li’s first time visiting. He knew a bit about Boss Chang’s situation.

Boss Chang, in his mid-forties, was thin and dressed in plain coarse robes. His shrewd eyes reflected years of experience in the business world. However, despite his savvy, he had never married or had children. His only family was a younger brother, who, unfortunately, was a source of constant worry. The younger brother had no ambition and preferred to frequent brothels, gambling houses, and taverns, leaving Boss Chang to clean up after him.

And as for why Jing Li remembered this person so well—it was, of course, because every time he visited, the younger brother would leer at him.

His absence was a relief.

Boss Chang poured Jing Li a cup of tea. “Please, have some tea, sir.”

“No need to be so formal with me, Boss Chang,” Jing Li said, accepting the cup.

“How could I not be? You’re quite the rising star now—I wouldn’t dare be disrespectful,” Boss Chang remarked, eyeing the walnut pastries Jing Li had placed on the table. With a chuckle, he added, “Walnut pastries from Zhenwei Zhai? I didn’t expect you to still remember my preferences.”

Running such a large bookshop, Boss Chang certainly didn’t lack the funds for pastries. However, every time Jing Li visited, he would bring a small gift. It was his way of maintaining good relations.

Two years ago, Jing Li wouldn’t have understood these nuances.

But in recent years, having spent time by Qin Zhao’s side, Jing Li had made a conscious effort to learn the art of interpersonal relationships. Though he didn’t enjoy it, he worked hard to master these skills.

After all, he didn’t want to remain a naive, helpless little fish who could only rely on Qin Zhao’s protection.

“Really, there’s no need for formality,” Jing Li said, slightly uncomfortable with the small talk. He quickly changed the subject, pointing to the book spread open on the table. “How’s this Dream Notes and other stories been selling lately?”

This book was quite different from the popular storybooks of the time.

The bestsellers on the market were usually tales of fantastical creatures, tragic romances, or explicit love stories. By contrast, Dream Notes told a sweet and idyllic story from the perspective of a young shuang’er. It depicted his harmonious and loving rural life with his husband.

In an era where shuang’ers were rarely valued, the story’s beauty felt almost otherworldly—half dream, half reality—fitting its title, Dream Notes.

As for how much of the story was true, Boss Chang didn’t know.

“It’s been selling very well.” Boss Chang couldn’t help but smile as he talked about it. “Ever since the reprint earlier this year, this is the last copy we have left. I’ve heard it’s selling just as well at other bookshops.”

Even Boss Chang hadn’t expected this.

When he first received the manuscript for Dream Notes, he hadn’t thought much of it. The story wasn’t particularly gripping, and in an age where dramatic and extravagant tales were in vogue, it seemed plain and unremarkable.

The author, however, wrote with delicate and authentic prose, narrating the story in a calm and engaging manner that carried a unique charm.

Boss Chang, who rarely read such stories, found himself deeply engrossed. By the time he finished the entire manuscript, the sky outside had already turned pitch-black.

From that moment, he impulsively decided to publish the story.

It was a somewhat rash decision. After all, the manuscript didn’t conform to popular trends, and the author was an unknown figure. There was no guarantee it would sell. As a result, the initial print run of Dream Notes was very small.

At first, the book attracted little attention. But those who read it praised it highly. Word of mouth slowly spread, eventually sparking a modest yet undeniable wave of interest. Sales began to rival those of the most popular storybooks on the market.

Having run the bookshop for many years, Boss Chang was quick to seize the opportunity. He promptly had the book reprinted.

Although the initial buzz had died down, the shop still occasionally received letters from readers urging them to release a second volume as soon as possible.

Jing Li’s lips curled upward in satisfaction, and he eagerly asked, “So, the second volume…”

This was precisely the reason he had come.

But at Jing Li’s words, Boss Chang’s expression grew slightly awkward. He sat down across from Jing Li, his fingers unconsciously fiddling with the teacup in front of him.

Boss Chang had been running this bookshop in the city for over twenty years and had met countless authors. Yet, someone like the young man sitting before him was truly one of a kind.

Calling him a “young man” might not even be accurate.

Although Jing Li looked youthful, he was likely in his early twenties. His features were strikingly beautiful, to the point where it was hard to tell whether he was a man or a shuang’er. He didn’t have the scholarly air typical of writers; instead, his gaze was clear and spirited, his demeanor vibrant and refreshingly simple.

He didn’t resemble a writer but rather a pampered young master raised in a honey jar.

If Boss Chang hadn’t known beforehand, he never would have believed that this grounded, gentle prose—the hallmark of Dream Notes—had come from this person.

Thinking of this, Boss Chang let out a silent sigh and said, “Mr. Zhao Li, your writing is exceptional. Collaborating with you is truly an honor.”

Jing Li’s heart skipped a beat at those words.

He had heard similar sentiments many times before.

The stories in Dream Notes were originally a collection of everyday anecdotes he had jotted down over time. After arriving in the city and struggling financially, he decided to organize them into a storybook to earn some manuscript fees.

Without fame or trendy material, Jing Li had faced rejection from seven or eight bookshops before Boss Chang finally accepted his manuscript.

And every rejection began with the same phrase: “Sir, your writing is exceptional. Collaborating with you would be an honor, but unfortunately…”

…What nonsense.

Jing Li, unable to hold back, interrupted before Boss Chang could finish. “Boss Chang, you just said the first volume sold very well.”

In reality, the manuscript fee Jing Li earned from Dream Notes wasn’t much.

As a newcomer, he was fortunate to find anyone willing to accept his work, so he hadn’t dared to negotiate. The manuscript for the first volume of Dream Notes had been bought outright by the bookshop for only five taels of silver.

From what Jing Li knew, the combined print runs of the initial and reprinted editions of Dream Notes were nearly a thousand copies. After deducting costs, each copy yielded a profit of about thirty wen. By that calculation, Boss Chang had made quite a profit from his manuscript.

After all, not every newcomer’s book could make this much silver.

Jing Li: “And didn’t we agree earlier? The second volume would be a profit-sharing arrangement between us, and you’ve already had the manuscript for a while now.”

The unexpected success of the first volume had caught them both off guard. Logically, if they continued working together on the second volume, the profits would only increase. That was why Boss Chang had proactively suggested switching to a profit-sharing model for the manuscript.

Jing Li had submitted the manuscript for the second volume to Boss Chang before the new year. By now, it should have been printed and ready for release.

Was he backing out now?

At this time, manuscripts were submitted in handwritten form, and there was no concept of backups.

Jing Li had initially worried about the safety of his work. However, with Boss Chang’s bookshop having a decent reputation in the city and under the oversight of the local authorities, Jing Li had felt reassured enough to submit it.

From their interactions over the past few months, Boss Chang, while a bit slick, had proven himself honest in business dealings. He wasn’t the type to suddenly go back on his word.

But now, it seemed he was passing up an easy opportunity for profit.

Jing Li suddenly recalled the bundled books he had seen outside earlier and asked, “Are you moving out?”

“I…” Boss Chang hesitated awkwardly for a moment before sighing. “I’ll be honest with you. My mother, who lives alone back in my hometown, fell seriously ill late last year. I’m planning to return home to take care of her, so I may have to close the shop for a while.”

Jing Li blinked.

Was that all?

Boss Chang continued, “This storybook is quite popular right now. Publishing it elsewhere would be better than leaving it stuck here with me. I’m only thinking of what’s best for you.”

That wasn’t entirely wrong.

Jing Li now had a completed volume under his belt and some measure of success, so he wasn’t too worried about finding a new publisher. However, switching publishers at this critical juncture would inevitably lead to a significant reduction in his earnings.

It was clearly more profitable to continue publishing here.

Jing Li pursed his lips, looking a bit dejected. “Will you be gone for a long time?”

The young man’s delicate and handsome features, paired with his softly spoken question, made him look so pitiable that it could melt anyone’s heart.

Boss Chang looked at him and sighed inwardly.

He didn’t know much about “Mr. Zhao Li,” but he had a few guesses in his heart.

This young man was exceptionally good-looking, and his writing was gentle and meticulous—likely a shuang’er, and most likely already married. He dressed modestly and always came alone, never revealing where he lived or his real name, clearly unwilling to share his true identity.

Given all this, only one possibility seemed likely.

The young man probably came from a good background but had been married off to someone he didn’t love. Now, in his husband’s home, he was unappreciated and neglected.

Only in this way could it explain why someone so pure and noble in demeanor would not dare reveal their identity and still need manuscript fees to make ends meet.

As for the life depicted in the young man’s book, Boss Chang believed it was more of a wistful fantasy on the boy’s part.

It was precisely because it was a fantasy that he had titled it Dream Notes.

In the blink of an eye, many thoughts passed through Boss Chang’s mind, and his gaze toward Jing Li subtly changed.

Jing Li, who was still trying to persuade Boss Chang to reconsider, was puzzled. “?”

“Well, fine. I’ll help you this one last time,” Boss Chang sighed heavily. “I’ve already reviewed the manuscript for the second volume. This time, let’s print 2,500 copies directly. You’ll get 30% of the profits. How about that?”

Jing Li froze.

“2,500 copies… 30% of the profits…” he murmured, quickly calculating in his head.

“That would be 22 taels and 500 wen,” Boss Chang said. “Based on the sales of the first volume, this is the most appropriate initial print run. Printing more would be risky.”

After a pause, Boss Chang added, “If sales are good later, we can do additional print runs, all at a 70-30 profit split.”

Jing Li, still dazed, asked, “But aren’t you going back to your hometown?”

Avoiding his gaze, Boss Chang replied quickly, “I’ll take care of that today. The first batch of books can be printed within three days, so there’s still time.”

Seeing that Boss Chang wasn’t joking, Jing Li finally let out a sigh of relief. “That’s wonderful!”

Boss Chang nodded. “Come back to the shop in three days, and I’ll return the manuscript to you.”

Jing Li: “Alright.”

The young man couldn’t hide his joy, his expression lighting up. Watching him, Boss Chang felt a pang of sympathy and slid the plate of pastries back toward him. “Also, take these pastries home with you. No need to spend money on this next time.”

“Huh?” Jing Li blinked. “No, these were meant for you.”

“Take them back. If you don’t eat them yourself, you can give them to your husband and in-laws as a gesture of respect.”

Jing Li, now even more confused, muttered, “Husband…?”

Recalling how the young man’s book was filled with fantasies of a doting husband showering affection on his wife, Boss Chang assumed he probably didn’t know much about how to please a husband. So, he said earnestly, “That’s what a wife should do.”

Not wanting to hurt the boy, Boss Chang added gently, “Think about it. You’ve been out for a long time. When you return, your husband will surely ask where you’ve been. If you say you went out just to buy him pastries, wouldn’t that make him happy?”

“And if he’s happy, won’t he love you even more?”

Jing Li: “…”

It kind of made sense.

“Young people…” Boss Chang shook his head with a sigh. “Just remember to speak softly and sweetly to your husband. That way, he’ll cherish you even more.”

Jing Li left the bookshop, dazed and carrying the pastries, having been lectured on marital harmony by a lifelong bachelor.

He had indeed been out for quite a while. As he approached the gate of his home, he spotted someone standing there, looking out.

Who else could it be but Qin Zhao?

Annoyance flared in Jing Li’s chest. Before Qin Zhao could even greet him, he scolded, “Why are you standing outside in the cold?”

Qin Zhao paused mid-step, his tone helpless. “I just came out for a moment to see if you were back. If you don’t believe me, ask Ah Qi.”

Jing Li, of course, didn’t believe him.

He was no longer the naive fish who could be easily fooled a year ago.

He was about to argue further with Qin Zhao when he suddenly remembered Boss Chang’s earlier advice. Softening his tone, he said, “Well… just don’t do it again.”

“Alright.” Qin Zhao smiled, taking the pastries from Jing Li’s hands. “What did you buy?”

“Walnut pastries,” Jing Li murmured, then added in a low voice, “I bought them especially for you.”

“Really?” Qin Zhao raised an eyebrow slightly.

Jing Li nodded earnestly. “Really.”

“Alright, if you say so.” Qin Zhao took Jing Li’s hand and led him inside, his smile fading slightly. “But rules are rules. No bribing me—you’re not allowed to eat pastries before lunch. Otherwise, you’ll lose your appetite.”

Jing Li: “…”

Being loved more or whatever… it was all a lie.

He’d been tricked again.