Ch 14: Reborn to Raise My Husband

Two days later, Qi Beinan gathered the half-pound of cotton he had bought in town, along with the items Xiao Hu had prepared earlier to send to the Fang family:

—A piece of smoked cured meat weighing about three jin
—A sack of white flour
—And half a jar of lard paste

It was quite a bit, all of it practical.

The Fang family’s rear wall had collapsed, and though villagers had helped them repair it, they clearly hadn’t even been able to put together a meal to thank them—showing just how tight things were at home.

These supplies wouldn’t lay out a full banquet, but they’d certainly add some meat to the table—enough for a few flavorful dishes.

“I’ll carry it! I can carry it!”

Xiao Bao followed right beside Qi Beinan’s legs, eager and bouncing at the news they were going to Grandpa Fang’s house. He tiptoed up, insisting on carrying something.

This child, after just two or three days living with Qi Beinan, had already forgotten all about trying to kick him out—now he clung to him constantly.

If Qi Beinan fed the chickens and ducks, he’d follow with husks to help open the coop; if Qi Beinan chopped wood in the courtyard, he’d carry the chopped logs over to the stove…

No matter what was being done, he had to be there. Even if Qi Beinan was just sitting in the room writing, Xiao Bao would peek in two or three times—never daring to disturb, only peeking from the doorway, as if afraid Qi Beinan would vanish if left unseen for a moment.

Qi Beinan had originally intended to pack everything into the basket, placing the cotton on top to cover the rest—convenient for carrying to the Fang home and preventing anyone from seeing too much.

But seeing Xiao Bao circling the basket insisting on helping, he relented and took out the small jar of lard paste.

Xiao Bao wrapped both arms tightly around the jar and happily ran out into the courtyard.

Xiao Hu, bare-legged and holding a metal rake, had just returned from digging a trench in the fields when he saw the pair about to head out.

He had been unusually withdrawn these last two days, speaking even less than usual. Seeing them about to leave, he looked to Qi Beinan and asked, “Heading out?”

Before Qi Beinan could reply, Xiao Bao beat him to it: “We’re going to Grandpa Fang’s!”

Xiao Hu’s brows lifted as he looked at the smiling-eyed Xiao Bao in surprise.

He realized the boy seemed braver after spending time with Qi Beinan.

Whether it was the suspicions he’d developed after the events of the past few days or something else, Xiao Hu now noticed more closely—especially things he might’ve missed before.

Back when he and Qin Niazi spoke, Xiao Bao would barely say a word—either hiding behind a door or shrinking into a corner. Even when spoken to directly, his answers were few and timid.

Yet here he was, speaking up on his own.

Xiao Hu’s expression softened. He patted Xiao Bao’s cheek and said, “It’s slippery out. Be careful.”

Xiao Bao nodded. “I know. I won’t break the jar.”

Xiao Hu looked up at Qi Beinan. “You’re delivering those?”

Qi Beinan, glad to see the father and son getting along, nodded. “I’m bringing the cotton for the clothes and figured I’d deliver these items too while we’re at it.”

Xiao Hu responded with a quiet, “Alright.”

Watching them go, he felt uneasy. Even though Qi Beinan had visited the Fang family recently and seemed to be getting along, it was hard to say if they’d accept gifts now.

If today’s visit could mend things between the two families, Xiao Hu resolved to go into town and buy wine and food to share with the Fang family—sit down and have a proper conversation.

After all, how had such close neighbors become so distant?

Qi Beinan and Xiao Bao had just entered the bamboo grove when Xiao Bao pointed up ahead and said excitedly, “It’s Big Brother Fang!”

Qi Beinan looked where he pointed and indeed saw a young man dressed in autumn-season ramie clothes, shoulders patched with scraps.

He was carrying two tightly bound bundles of firewood, each step leaving deep prints in the mud.

Hearing someone behind him, the young man turned—his face red with heat, beads of sweat covering his forehead and nose despite the chill.

“Xiao Bao?”

Fang Youliang set down the firewood and wiped his face, recognizing Xiao Bao and seeing the tall, unfamiliar youth behind him.

He had heard from home that someone from Xiao Bao’s mother’s side had come to stay—though he hadn’t met him yet, he figured this must be the one.

“Yeah!” Xiao Bao responded quickly, hurrying over with quick, hopping steps.

“Xiao Bao’s going to Big Brother Fang’s house!”

Fang Youliang chuckled at the sight of him bouncing over. “Slow down.”

Xiao Bao couldn’t help asking after Fang’s second and third siblings—he hadn’t seen them last time either.

Unfortunately, they were gone again today. They’d gone to visit their maternal grandparents and likely wouldn’t make it back before nightfall.

Xiao Bao’s mood dipped, and he quietly returned to Qi Beinan’s side.

Qi Beinan took his hand and greeted Fang Youliang: “You must be Big Brother Fang.”

By seniority, Fang Youliang should be addressed as “uncle,” but he was still young, so Qi Beinan followed Xiao Bao’s lead. Since they weren’t blood relatives, formality wasn’t as important.

Fang Youliang smiled and nodded. “I just heard from my mother the other day about Brother Qi. Didn’t have time to come by, but now that I see you, you really are a handsome one.”

Qi Beinan returned the courtesy with a few polite words. The wind was chilly, and the three of them headed to the Fang household together.

“The clothes are already cut to shape,” Grandma Sun said. “Xiao Bao’s here just in time to try them on.”

Grandma Sun saw the two children arriving at her home and cheerfully welcomed them inside, bringing out the clothes she had been working on.

The fabric they’d brought two days ago was already cut and sewn into shape. When compared against Xiao Bao, the sizing was just right.

Qi Beinan set down the basket and said, “Grandma, your hands are really quick. Good thing I brought the cotton today—if the clothes had already been sewn shut, it would’ve been hard to add it in.”

“It’s no trouble. I was just thinking I’d work a bit faster so Xiao Bao can wear his new clothes in time for the New Year,” Grandma Sun said with a smile as she tidied up the fabric.

Qi Beinan then pulled out a big bundle of soft, fluffy cotton from the basket—just looking at it made one feel warm.

Next, he took out the cured meat and sack of flour. Upon seeing them, Grandma Sun’s expression changed, and she quickly reached out to stop Qi Beinan’s hand. “Child, what are you doing—this won’t do!”

Qi Beinan had expected she might refuse and put on a troubled face. “Grandma, look at you, you’re already rejecting me before I’ve even said a word. The other day you said you were close with Aunt Sun, but today you’re being so distant. You won’t even let me speak—could it be you don’t like me visiting?”

Grandma Sun knew that being overly polite could hurt people’s feelings, making it seem like her family didn’t want to be close. Children couldn’t understand such things, but adults could.

She felt torn. She didn’t want to give Qin Niazi any reason to speak badly of her family, but she also didn’t want to hurt Qi Beinan’s feelings.

“Good child, my affection for your Aunt Sun is genuine. Grandma really is happy to have you here. It’s just that making clothes is nothing—it doesn’t call for gifts like these.”

Qi Beinan spoke gently, “Even if your needlework is skilled, making a set of clothes still takes thread, time, candlelight at night, and strain on the eyes. That’s not a small thing.”

He went on calmly, “I brought these things not for anything else, just because of the relationship you spoke of. Uncle Xiao said it himself—hiring someone in town to make clothes would cost copper coins. But between neighbors like us, let’s not talk about money and feelings. These are just everyday things everyone uses and eats.”

Then, pretending to be a little upset, he said, “If you don’t like these things and won’t accept them, I’ll just take them back. Next time, I won’t dare bother you again.”

Grandma Sun felt deeply guilty at his words.

The guardedness she had built up because of Qin Niazi now softened completely under Qi Beinan’s sincere tone.

After all, Qi Beinan had asked for a favor first before offering gifts—this made the gesture feel more genuine and easier to accept.

She gently patted his hand. “Alright then, Grandma will accept them. Just make sure you and Xiao Bao come often. Your Grandpa Fang lies in bed all day and enjoys having company around.”

Fang Youliang had just returned from putting the firewood in the backyard. Wiping his sweat with a sleeve, he stepped into the main room just in time to hear Qi Beinan talking to his mother.

He thought to himself—this child might be young, but he really knows how to talk. He’s far more articulate than Xiao Bao’s father. Truly the son of a scholar’s household.

He didn’t go into the room immediately but instead went to the kitchen and poured two bowls of hot water for Qi Beinan and Xiao Bao.

There wasn’t even a bit of rough tea at home, only plain boiled water—but poor as they were, they couldn’t treat guests poorly.

“Thank you, Brother Fang,” Qi Beinan said, taking the hot water and blowing on it before handing it to Xiao Bao, who’d been standing quietly at his side the whole time.

Warmed by the drink, Xiao Bao perked up. He bounced around the room proudly telling Grandma Sun that he had carried the jar of lard paste himself.

Grandma Sun found him simply adorable. She brought him into the kitchen, saying she’d roast sweet potatoes for him—and Xiao Bao happily followed, even asking her to roast a couple for Qi Beinan too.

“Looks like there’s a lot of firewood stacked in the yard. All chopped by you, Brother Fang?” Qi Beinan asked as he saw Fang Youliang organizing the big pile.

“Yep. I’ve been up the mountain the past couple of days. In winter, folks in town burn more firewood, so it sells better than usual. Gotta stock up and send some in,” Fang Youliang replied.

Qi Beinan recalled that back in Qiuxian, his own family also bought firewood.

In warmer months, it was easier to cut wood, and it burned slower. A cartload cost maybe ten or twenty copper coins. But in the cold season, demand rose, wood was harder to cut, and prices jumped—as high as thirty or more copper coins per load.

But for those who sold it in small amounts, even with the winter markup, one bundle only fetched three to five coins.

“It’s the folks with livestock who benefit the most from hauling firewood,” Qi Beinan commented as he helped stack the scattered wood neatly.

“If there’s good wood up in the mountains, sure, you can chop a lot in a day. But carrying it down and getting it to town? Without a cow or donkey, you’re lucky to bring one or two bundles at a time.”

Fang Youliang nodded and chuckled, “True. But I can manage to carry four bundles in one trip from the mountain. Saves me a couple runs.”

Qi Beinan was a little surprised. “Most people can only carry two bundles. Brother Fang, you can carry four?”

“I don’t have much else going for me. Just young and strong.”

He smiled, then sighed, “But no matter how strong I am, I’m still no match for a beast of burden. Can’t make much money this way. One day, when I’ve saved up a little, I’ll grit my teeth and buy myself an animal.”

Qi Beinan admired the drive and determination in him.

To live a hard life without losing the will for better days—that was rare.

Though they appeared to be a few years apart in age, they found themselves surprisingly easy to talk to, and ended up chatting for quite a while.

If Fang Youliang hadn’t needed to head back to the mountain, they probably could’ve chatted for much longer.

Seeing there was still more he wanted to say, Qi Beinan took the chance to extend an invitation, “I’ve come alone to stay with Uncle Xiao’s family. Though they treat me kindly and I’ve not found it hard to settle in, it’s still all unfamiliar here. Aside from the Xiaos, I don’t know a soul. Most days, I don’t even have someone to talk to.”

“If Brother Fang doesn’t mind my youth, please come visit me often.”

Fang Youliang saw his mother had already accepted the things brought from the Xiao household, and hearing Qi Beinan speak so sincerely, he readily agreed.

On the way back, Xiao Bao, who had come holding the jar of lard, now carried a whole bundle of soft, steaming roasted sweet potatoes in his arms.

He had eaten two himself, and was saving the rest to share with Xiao Hu.

Qi Beinan’s now-emptied basket was filled with large, freshly washed white radishes and tender green winter amaranth—gifts from Grandma Sun.

He didn’t refuse, accepting them with ease. This back-and-forth, after all, was how relationships were built again.

After seeing the two off, Grandma Sun stood with Fang Youliang, looking at the meat, flour, and lard Qi Beinan had brought, not knowing what to say.

With these things at hand, if they slaughtered one of their chickens and spent ten or so copper coins on a fish, the thank-you meal for the villagers could come together—simple, but enough.

That meant they wouldn’t need to worry about Fang Jie’er and Fang Ge’er  failing to borrow money or rice from their maternal relatives either.

“I think this Young Master Qi is a good one, completely different from that Qin woman,” said Grandma Sun. “He’s a year younger than our Fang Ge’er, but speaks and acts like a grown man. He’s a scholar—naturally he’s seen more of the world. Not like us common folk who can’t even read. And he’s so kind to Xiao Bao—clearly not cut from the same cloth as that Qin woman.”

Fang Youliang nodded, “We’ll keep our distance from that Qin woman, but stay on good terms with Young Master Qi.”

Grandma Sun nodded too. “That’s right.”

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