Ch 112: Transmigrated to become a Koi Husband

Jing Li didn’t reply.

During this period, many in the prefectural city were curious about who Zhao Li truly was.

The city was full of scholars, and writing storybooks wasn’t difficult; as long as one could read and write, they could pick up a brush and try. Trying to uncover Zhao Li’s real identity was akin to searching for a needle in a haystack.

Yet there were no clues to be found.

In a place like the prefectural city, storybook authors usually didn’t hide their true identities. For most other works, authors would include their name and address at the end of the story, making it easy for others to find them.

After all, in this era, many talented individuals went unrecognized, and no one would willingly forgo any opportunity.

But Mr. Zhao Li had never left any identifying information. Even when the entire city was searching for him and imposters kept cropping up, he didn’t come forward to say a single word.

There was only one possibility:
He had no desire—or perhaps even disdain—for fame from this.

This narrowed down the suspects to the already well-established scholars of the prefectural city.

As for why he was mistaken for Qin Zhao, it could only be because of the handwriting Qin Zhao had inscribed on the cover of Zhao Li’s book.

Lost in thought, Jing Li was brought back by A-Zi’s puzzled voice:
“Why aren’t you surprised at all? Don’t tell me you’ve never read Zhao Li’s works? Dream Notes is really good!”

“I… I’ve read it,” Jing Li replied, a little embarrassed, covering it up by sipping his tea. “But how can you be so sure that Qin Zhao is Zhao Li?”

A-Zi: “Isn’t the name obvious enough?”

“…”

“Of course, it’s not that simple,” A-Zi quickly added before Jing Li could question him. “But I can’t tell you the exact reason—my uncle told me not to.”

Jing Li fell silent again.

Although A-Zi said this, the boy had always spoken to him without much caution. Jing Li had no doubt that if he pressed further, the boy would likely spill all the secrets.

But Jing Li had no interest in prying into others’ privacy. His concern was simply Qin Zhao.

Jing Li asked, “So, you’re looking for Zhao Li?”

“Yes.” At the mention of this, A-Zi seemed in high spirits. He took a bite of a pastry, chewing carefully, his cheek slightly puffed on one side, his eyes sparkling. “I admire him greatly.”

Admire.

Jing Li softly repeated the word.

He had always known that Qin Zhao’s reputation in the prefectural city was exceptional.

Whether it was the distinction of achieving the “Triple Top Scholar” or his position as a teacher at the Gu household, Qin Zhao was someone ordinary people could only look up to in admiration. Moreover, he was still so young, so handsome. If he hadn’t publicly declared that he had no intention of taking concubines, the sheer number of marriage proposals would have worn down the threshold of his home.

Jing Li lowered his head, a subtle and inexplicable discomfort rising in his chest. “Yes, he’s amazing. Many people in the prefectural city admire him.”

A-Zi didn’t notice his odd tone and smiled. “But I’m different from them.”

“Hmm?”

“Because I know his secret.” A-Zi winked at Jing Li, a certain brilliance in his expression. “It feels like I’m closer to him than everyone else.”

The more Jing Li listened, the more unsettling he found it.

He drained the last of his tea, scooped up the little fish fry, and stood up. “I just remembered I have something to do. I’ll be leaving now.”

A-Zi hadn’t expected him to leave so abruptly and called out, “You haven’t told me where you live! How will I find you later?”

Jing Li pretended not to hear and quickly left the teahouse with the fry in his arms.

After walking a few steps, he realized he had acted impulsively.

Was liking Qin Zhao so strange? The number of people in the prefectural city, both openly and secretly, vying to get close to Qin Zhao was uncountable. Jing Li himself had blocked more suitors than he could count on both hands.

That boy A-Zi was straightforward and sincere, clearly without ill intentions—far better than those who schemed in secret.

But still…

He felt a little angry.

If he’d known, he wouldn’t have let Qin Zhao write the title for his book. As if there weren’t already enough rivals in the prefectural city?

Jing Li hugged the fish baby tightly, puffing up with anger as he walked.

A chubby little hand suddenly reached out in front of him.

Jing Li looked down.

The little fish fry, who still hadn’t finished the pastry he’d taken earlier, was now obediently sitting in Jing Li’s arms. He broke the pastry in half and held one piece up to Jing Li’s mouth. “Daddy eat… Don’t be mad…”

This little fry, with half koi blood in him, was just like Jing Li had been when he was born—naturally clingy. He was far more perceptive than most children and could already read others’ emotions at such a young age.

And he knew how to comfort others by offering his favorite things.

Jing Li’s frustration melted away entirely.

He shouldn’t have been so impulsive.

A-Zi had a simple nature. Not only had he shared pastries with him, but he’d also spoken openly about everything without holding back.

And yet, because of A-Zi inexplicable irritation, Jing Li had left in a huff, abandoning A’Zi in the teahouse. It really wasn’t right.

He needed to go back and apologize to A-Zi.

Just as he turned around, he saw the boy coming out of the teahouse.

“A-Li, good thing you’re still here.” A-Zi spotted him and quickly walked over. “There were some pastries left over. Take them back for the baby to eat.”

He stuffed a paper-wrapped package into Jing Li’s hands, catching him off guard. “You… are you sure about this…”

“Of course.” A-Zi smiled. “Think of it as thanks for chatting with me and keeping me company earlier. Please, take it.”

Jing Li asked, “Are you heading back?”

“Yes, I didn’t get to meet Mr. Zhao Li today,” A-Zi replied, looking slightly downcast. However, his spirits quickly lifted. “But I won’t give up. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Why are you so eager to meet him?”

“Is it strange to want to meet someone you admire?” A-Zi suddenly thought of something and quickly explained, “Don’t misunderstand. I know he already has a wife and child—I’m not after anything like that.”

A-Zi continued, “I just feel that someone who can write such beautiful works must be a warm and charismatic person. I really want to meet him.”

The boy’s attitude made Jing Li feel even guiltier about his earlier thoughts and actions.

After some thought, Jing Li said seriously, “A-Zi, there’s something I need to tell you. Actually, I—”

“Ah!”

A-Zi suddenly let out an exclamation, his attention caught by something.

Jing Li followed his gaze but saw nothing unusual at the street corner—just a few passersby. Puzzled, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing.” A-Zi quickly withdrew his gaze, grabbed Jing Li’s hand, and said hastily, “A-Li, my family’s here looking for me. I have to go. If you hear any news about Mr. Zhao Li, just leave word at the teahouse we were at earlier. I’ll come back.”

“Goodbye, Baby Yu! I’ll make you some pastries next time.”

He bent down to pat the little fish cub on the head, then turned and hurried off in another direction. In no time, he had melted into the crowd.

What was that all about?

Jing Li and the fish cub were left standing on the street, staring at each other.

The encounter ended abruptly, and Jing Li couldn’t make sense of what had just happened. But since A-Zi had disappeared, there was nothing more he could do for now.

Later, during dinner, he brought it up to Qin Zhao as a topic of conversation.

“…I still don’t know who he really is,” Jing Li said with a sigh, munching on the pastries A-Zi had left behind.

Qin Zhao replied calmly, “If you want to investigate, it’s not impossible.”

“What do you mean?”

“The book cover only has the title Dream Notes printed on it. Recognizing the handwriting at a glance would be nearly impossible unless you compared it directly with samples of my handwriting.” Qin Zhao seemed to have a general idea already and hinted, “Think about it—who would have access to a large number of my handwritten works?”

Jing Li thought for a moment and muttered, “The Gu household?”

Qin Zhao rarely appeared in public, much less left behind handwriting. The only place where he might have written extensively was during his time teaching at the Gu household.

But Qin Zhao chuckled. “If it were someone from the Gu household, would you not recognize them?”

“That’s true…” Jing Li conceded.

“Then who could it be?”

“Forget it, no need to investigate,” Jing Li said. “I was the one who kept something from him first. Next time we meet, I’ll take the initiative to tell him the truth.”

Qin Zhao nodded. “That works.”

…

That night, after putting the little fish fry to sleep, Jing Li went to the study to accompany Qin Zhao as he read.

In the past, when Qin Zhao didn’t know he was writing storybooks, Jing Li would sneak away to his room and furtively jot down a few sections. Now that his identity was exposed, Jing Li no longer hid it and spent every evening with Qin Zhao in the study.

While Qin Zhao read, Jing Li sat beside him, working on his story.

Sometimes, when he grew tired of writing, he would wrap himself in his robe and snuggle into Qin Zhao’s embrace, comfortably dozing off. When Qin Zhao finished reading, he would carry Jing Li back to the bedroom.

The days were simple but felt exceptionally fulfilling.

Jing Li had barely written for a while before his mind started to wander. Resting his chin on his hand, he gazed at the man beside him. Qin Zhao’s profile was softened by the candlelight, as if bathed in a warm glow.

Even after all this time together, Jing Li still found it hard to believe how stunningly handsome Qin Zhao was.

No wonder so many people had their eyes on him.

“Focus,” Qin Zhao said without even looking up, gently tapping Jing Li on the head.

How could he hope to earn money writing stories if he kept zoning out after just a few sentences?

“I wasn’t staring at you—” Jing Li instinctively denied it, but realizing he’d slipped, he hurriedly added, “I was just thinking… thinking about how in half a month it’s the prefectural magistrate’s birthday. What kind of gift should we prepare?”

This was the sort of detail only Jing Li would remember.

Qin Zhao, preoccupied with teaching Gu Heng and preparing for the autumn examinations, seldom paid attention to such trivial matters. Moreover, given his status, he hardly needed to remember the birthday of a magistrate.

However, since they now lived in the prefectural city and the magistrate had always shown great appreciation for Qin Zhao—particularly for helping them with Mr.Chang’s case—it was only right to express their gratitude.

“The magistrate has led a frugal life and likely wouldn’t accept anything too extravagant,” Qin Zhao said.

“I know, which is why I wanted to discuss it with you.” Jing Li had been thinking about this for days and suggested, “It’s spring tea season right now. We could write to the village and ask the village chief to gather some tea leaves and send them over. We could also include some local produce—things that aren’t too expensive but show our appreciation.”

Qin Zhao nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

“Then I’ll write the letter now.” Jing Li pulled out a piece of stationery and began writing.

Qin Zhao sat beside him, watching him write.

By now, Jing Li had become quite adept at using a brush, and because he had modeled his calligraphy on Qin Zhao’s while practicing, his handwriting had begun to faintly resemble Qin Zhao’s style.

Though there was still quite a gap between them.

Jing Li initially began practicing calligraphy simply to make daily life more convenient; he never aimed to cultivate exceptional skill like a master calligrapher, so he didn’t push himself too hard.

After neatly and concisely finishing the letter, he sealed it in an envelope and said, “I’ll send this out tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Qin Zhao said.

“What’s there to thank me for?” Jing Li didn’t think much of it. “This is a family matter, after all. It’s only right that I handle it.”

Qin Zhao stroked his hair and said softly, “Just hold on a little longer. Once our lives improve… you won’t have to do all this anymore.”

No more learning how to deal with people, no more forcing himself to run around for a living.

Jing Li paused for a moment, then smiled. “If I don’t do these things, then what should I do? Do you want me to be like that little fish fry, just eating, drinking, and playing every day?”

“Wouldn’t you like that?” Qin Zhao asked.

“I don’t care about that kind of life.” Jing Li set the sealed letter aside and picked up his manuscript again. “As long as I can be with you, any life is fine.”

As he spoke, his head was slightly lowered, his softly curled lashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks. Qin Zhao gazed at his face, a subtle furrow appearing in his brow.

…

About seven or eight days after Jing Li sent the letter, a reply finally arrived from Linxi Village.

Along with the letter were the tea leaves and local goods that Jing Li had requested.

Two days before the magistrate’s birthday, Qin Zhao and Jing Li brought the gifts to pay a visit.

The magistrate’s residence, located in the southern part of the city, was far more modest than those of the wealthy merchants in town. Without prior knowledge, one might assume it belonged to an ordinary citizen—an unmistakable testament to the magistrate’s frugality.

After Qin Zhao explained their visit, a servant invited them inside.

“Mr. Qin, you’re very thoughtful.”

Any dissatisfaction the magistrate had previously harbored toward Qin Zhao during Mr.Chang’s case had long dissipated. Seeing the carefully chosen gifts, his impression of Qin Zhao improved even further.

He invited Qin Zhao and Jing Li to the main hall for tea and conversation. Jing Li, unable to contribute much to the discussion, quietly sat off to the side, holding the little fish fry and nibbling on pastries.

The magistrate occasionally glanced at Jing Li and remarked with a sigh, “The people of this city all say that Mr. Qin loves his husband deeply, and they wonder what fortune Qin’s husband must have accumulated in past lives. But in my opinion, you two are truly a match made in heaven.”

Qin Zhao replied, “You flatter us, Magistrate.”

The magistrate stroked his beard and, half-jokingly, said, “It’s a pity I only have a young daughter still in her childhood. Otherwise, I’d have considered forming a marital alliance with you, Mr. Qin.”

Jing Li’s smile froze on his face: “……”

When would these people stop eyeing his Qin Zhao?!

Jing Li glanced at Qin Zhao, who cleared his throat and said, “I appreciate your kind intentions, Magistrate, but I have no…”

Before he could finish, a servant entered to report, “Sir, the young master heard we had guests and prepared some pastries to welcome them.”

Young master?

Jing Li frowned slightly but then heard the magistrate explain, “That’s my nephew. He’s been staying here in the city for a short visit.”

He paused briefly and added, “He’s a shuang’er.”

Jing Li immediately understood.

So this was planned all along.

“Let him come in,” the magistrate instructed.

The servant bowed and left. Soon after, a finely dressed young boy appeared, accompanied by two attendants carrying a tray of steaming pastries.

Before Jing Li could react, the little fish fry in his arms let out a delighted “Wow!” Jing Li followed his gaze and saw the pastries—soft, snow-white, and delicately shaped like little rabbits, lifelike and utterly adorable.

Looking further up, he saw the young boy approach with an unhurried grace. The boy bowed politely to the magistrate and said, “Second Uncle, I’m here.”

“Qingzi, just in time.” The magistrate beamed and gestured toward Qin Zhao. “This is Qin Zhao, the Triple Top Scholar you asked about earlier. Go and greet Mr. Qin.”

“Yes,” the boy replied softly. He turned to face Qin Zhao but froze momentarily when his gaze landed on Jing Li.

Jing Li also froze.

Wasn’t this the same boy he had met at the teahouse—the one who introduced himself as A-Zi?

After their brief encounter, Jing Li had been thinking about how to explain the truth to him. He even revisited the teahouse several times, hoping to run into him again, but the boy never reappeared.

Despite their short meeting, Jing Li had taken a liking to A-Zi’s straightforward and genuine nature. He had truly wanted to tell him the truth and befriend him.

He never expected the boy to turn out to be the magistrate’s nephew.

And he certainly didn’t expect their reunion to happen in this setting.

The boy was the first to regain his composure. He lowered his gaze, as if nothing had happened, and greeted the two of them with a polite bow. “I am Yue Qingzi. Greetings to you both.”

His demeanor was elegant and poised, entirely different from the candid and cheerful boy Jing Li had met at the teahouse.

Jing Li felt a pang of guilt.

Appearing here with Qin Zhao made their relationship obvious. Would A-Zi—no, Yue Qingzi—think he had deliberately deceived him and hold it against him?

Jing Li wanted to explain, but before he could say anything, the boy suddenly lifted his head and glanced at him.

From an angle where the magistrate couldn’t see, Yue Qingzi slyly winked at Jing Li.