Ch 118: Transmigrated to become a Koi Husband

Jing Li didn’t have time to question Qin Zhao about why he had gotten out of bed again. He quickly turned away and used his sleeve to wipe his eyes.

Ah Qi was still standing in front of him, looking a bit flustered. “Mas-Master…”

“Leave us,” Qin Zhao said with a slight wave of his hand.

Ah Qi couldn’t have been more relieved and hurried out of the kitchen.

Qin Zhao, who had only just recovered from a fever, still seemed unsteady as he walked. Slowly, he approached Jing Li from behind and asked softly, “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not… I’m not crying…” Jing Li’s emotions hadn’t entirely settled yet. He took a shaky breath and tried his best to steady his voice. “It’s just the smoke.”

Ah Qi wasn’t wrong—acting like this wouldn’t help Qin Zhao’s recovery. If anything, it would only make him worry more.

He already had so many things to worry about…

Jing Li cleared his throat and turned around. “You need to leave. The smoke here is too heavy. The doctor said you shouldn’t even be out of bed, so why are you here?”

Qin Zhao didn’t move. He simply looked down at him.

From this angle, Jing Li’s red-rimmed eyes were impossible to hide.

Jing Li rarely cried in front of him. The last time was out of guilt when his momentary impulsiveness had led to the imprisonment—and ultimately the death—of Boss Chang.

And before that?

Qin Zhao couldn’t quite remember.

His young husband had spent the entire afternoon in the kitchen, and now his face was smudged with a bit of soot, making him look all the more pitiful.

Qin Zhao sighed softly and took out a handkerchief to wipe Jing Li’s face.

“My little fish has turned into a little cat…” His movements were gentle, but before he could wipe more than a couple of times, Jing Li dodged away.

“I can do it myself! You should go back and lie down,” Jing Li insisted.

“I’ve been lying down all day,” Qin Zhao replied with a faint smile. “I’m not that fragile.”

“You are that fragile!” Jing Li muttered. “You catch a cold just from a breeze. When will that useless body of yours finally get stronger?”

“Yes, yes, I’m useless,” Qin Zhao said. “But does that mean I made you cry?”

“I didn’t—”

“If you weren’t upset, then why won’t you eat?” Qin Zhao interrupted.

Jing Li was left speechless.

Fidgeting slightly, he turned his gaze away and muttered resentfully, “Ah Qi really is on your side. He tells you everything. All my kindness to him was wasted.”

Qin Zhao smiled faintly and said nothing. He walked to the stove and began ladling porridge into a bowl for Jing Li.

“Don’t move around recklessly!” Jing Li hurried over to take the bowl from him, but Qin Zhao easily sidestepped him. “Don’t fight me on this. Be good—I’m the patient right now.”

Jing Li was left with no retort, watching helplessly as Qin Zhao finished ladling the porridge and led him back inside.

When they returned to the bedroom, the little fish was nowhere to be seen—Ah Qi had clearly taken him away earlier, leaving the room empty. Qin Zhao guided Jing Li to sit at the table, scooped up a spoonful of porridge, blew on it to cool it, and brought it to Jing Li’s lips.

“I can feed myself…” Jing Li began to reach for the spoon, but Qin Zhao raised his brow slightly and interrupted, “Be good.”

“…”

Jing Li could only obediently drink the porridge.

Who was the real patient here, anyway?

Jing Li had been sulking all day, and it wasn’t until the warm porridge touched his lips that he realized just how hungry he was. His stomach even let out an audible grumble.

Qin Zhao chuckled softly but didn’t say anything. He patiently fed Jing Li the entire bowl of porridge, then took out a handkerchief to wipe the corner of his lips. Only then did he ask, “Do you want more?”

There was no way Jing Li could let him continue feeding him, so he quickly shook his head. “I’m full.”

Setting the bowl aside, Qin Zhao asked, “Then, are you still angry?”

Jing Li pressed his lips together.

Qin Zhao was coaxing him.

Even though he was still recovering from such a miserable illness, he had come over just to comfort him.

Why did he always make this person worry about him?

Jing Li’s nose tingled, and he couldn’t bring himself to say a word. He just shook his head quickly.

“If you’re not angry, then you must be upset,” Qin Zhao said, gently brushing a fingertip against the corner of Jing Li’s eye. Sure enough, he felt a trace of dampness. “Is it because I got sick again?”

Jing Li shook his head again.

His reddened eyes still shimmered slightly with unshed tears, but he stubbornly refused to let them fall.

Qin Zhao’s hand trailed from Jing Li’s shoulder down his arm, finally taking hold of his hand and pulling him closer.

Jing Li instinctively resisted, but Qin Zhao softly asked, “What’s this? Not even willing to let me hug you?”

“…”

Jing Li had no idea how to deal with this version of Qin Zhao.

Normally, he was so composed and self-reliant, but when it came to coaxing others, he always feigned innocence and vulnerability, making it impossible to stay mad at him.

Resigned, Jing Li stepped forward and was immediately enveloped in Qin Zhao’s arms.

The faint scent of medicinal herbs that always seemed to linger around Qin Zhao filled the air. Jing Li had always liked that smell. He buried his head in Qin Zhao’s shoulder, inhaling the calming fragrance, and subconsciously rubbed his face against him.

“Now I know where the little fish learned how to act spoiled,” Qin Zhao murmured as he stroked Jing Li’s hair gently. “Xiao Yu, seeing you like this makes my heart ache.”

Jing Li tightened his grip on Qin Zhao’s sleeve.

“If you’re angry or feel wronged, you might as well just scold me,” Qin Zhao said softly. “I don’t want to see you bottling everything up inside. That’s not like you.”

The Jing Li he used to know had never been like this.

He was straightforward and carefree, so much so that even when he acted impulsively or caused trouble, he never seemed to have any worries.

Qin Zhao had always wanted to protect that innocence, and that was why he worked so hard.

So why did it always end up making Jing Li so upset?

“…I’m not mad at you,” Jing Li whispered. “I’m just… just a little anxious.”

Qin Zhao’s health had shown no improvement, and Jing Li simply couldn’t stop worrying. In a time when medical conditions were far from ideal, so many lives were lost to illnesses that couldn’t be treated properly. How was Qin Zhao ever going to get better if this went on?

And yet, this man never stopped taking on so many burdens.

Jing Li was anxious and frustrated, but he couldn’t find a solution. All he could do was get angry with himself.

He didn’t even dare tell Qin Zhao about his worries, afraid that doing so would only burden him further.

“Qin Zhao, let’s not take the exams anymore, okay?” Jing Li said. “Things are fine as they are now. My fees for writing letters are almost as much as what you earn teaching. We can live a good life like this.”

Qin Zhao didn’t seem surprised by his words. He only asked gently, “Have you been holding this in for a long time?”

Jing Li was silent for a moment, then nodded. “Yes.”

“I could tell,” Qin Zhao said. “You used to be so eager for me to achieve success. But now, every time the topic of going to the capital comes up, you seem unhappy. Our family doesn’t struggle financially anymore, yet you’re still working so hard to earn money. It’s not just about proving yourself—you want to prove something to me, don’t you?”

“I…” Jing Li hesitated.

He had once dreamed of Qin Zhao making a name for himself. He thought someone as talented as Qin Zhao shouldn’t remain buried in this small place. But there was no such thing as instant success in reality. Even someone as brilliant as Qin Zhao had to climb his way up step by step, struggling through the mire.

Over the years, he had witnessed Qin Zhao’s hard work and sacrifices for this goal, and he regretted it.

Jing Li sometimes wondered if, back then, he had stopped Qin Zhao from taking the county-level exams, they might have stayed in that small mountain village, living a life that, while perhaps poor, was peaceful and steady.

Now there was no turning back, so Jing Li tried to resolve things in his own way. He thought, if he were good enough, if he could show Qin Zhao that they could live well without chasing higher ambitions, then maybe all of this could finally stop.

“I know everything,” Qin Zhao sighed softly, holding Jing Li closer. “Everything you’ve done—I know it all.”

“But…”

It felt like it wasn’t enough.

Jing Li felt as though Qin Zhao was gradually drifting further away from him. Even though they were always together, there always seemed to be some invisible distance between them.

“Xiao Yu, I love you very much,” Qin Zhao murmured, his fingers gently brushing through Jing Li’s hair. “That’s the one thing you never have to doubt.”

“As for everything else, if you want to know, I can tell you right now. Don’t worry, and don’t be afraid.”

Jing Li froze.

He sat up straight, looking into Qin Zhao’s refined but gaunt face.

There was a softness and sincerity in Qin Zhao’s gaze as he spoke. Jing Li had to admit, Qin Zhao always knew exactly how to ease his worries. Even without saying much or doing anything grand, he always managed to calm him.

Jing Li’s hand was clasped in Qin Zhao’s, the warmth of his palm comforting. Jing Li spoke softly, “I understand.”

“I won’t overthink anymore, so you don’t have to worry about me,” Jing Li said. “Right now, the most important thing is your health. Everything else—we can talk about it slowly once you’re better.”

It might have been seeing Qin Zhao suddenly fall ill today that made Jing Li unusually sentimental.

Now that he had calmed down, he realized this wasn’t the time to sulk. Whatever needed to be said could wait until Qin Zhao recovered.

Qin Zhao began, “But you’re not—”

“Let’s make a deal, okay?” Jing Li interrupted. “I actually have a secret I’ve been hiding from you too. Once you’re better, we’ll exchange secrets. One for one, to make it fair.”

Qin Zhao didn’t seem particularly curious about what Jing Li’s secret might be, but hearing his proposal, he smiled faintly. “Alright, I’ll do as you say.”

Having spoken his mind, Jing Li finally felt a weight lifted off his chest. He stood up and pulled Qin Zhao toward the bed. “Hurry and lie down. The doctor said you shouldn’t be out of bed!”

“I know…” Qin Zhao allowed himself to be led, but just as they reached the bed, there was a soft knock at the door.

The two exchanged a glance before Jing Li turned to open it.

Ah Qi stood at the door holding the little fish fry and looked directly past Jing Li to Qin Zhao inside. “Master, there’s an important guest at the door asking to see you.”

“…He says his surname is Deng.”

At a time like this?

Jing Li frowned and was about to tell Ah Qi to send the guest away, but Qin Zhao said calmly, “I know. Have him wait for me in the study.”

Ah Qi nodded, handed the little fish fry to Jing Li, and left.

Inside, the sound of rustling clothing echoed as Qin Zhao retrieved an outer robe from the wardrobe.

“Who is it?” Jing Li asked.

Qin Zhao never entertained guests when he was sick—it was a household rule. Even if the prefect himself came, Qin Zhao wouldn’t necessarily rise to meet him. Yet this guest was important enough for Qin Zhao to change and head to the study.

…This person’s identity must be extraordinary.

Qin Zhao paused briefly before answering honestly, “Governor Deng Tianyou.”

Jing Li was startled.

Wasn’t he the one hosting the Banquet of the Deer Call today?

But Qin Zhao didn’t elaborate further. He quickly finished dressing, turned back, and kissed Jing Li lightly on the cheek. “I promised not to hide things from you, but there’s no time to explain now. Let me meet him first, and I’ll tell you everything when I return.”

Without waiting for Jing Li’s reply, he left the bedroom.

Jing Li stood in the room holding the little fish. The two of them, one big and one small, stared after Qin Zhao’s retreating figure before turning to look at each other.

“Don’t you think this is a bit strange?” Jing Li asked, a suspicion forming in his mind.

The little one furrowed his brow as well and let out a heavy huff.