Ch 31: Reborn to Raise My Husband

The next day, after lunch, Jiang Fulang came to take Xiao Yuanbao with him.

Qi Beinan carried a bundle of peaches, keeping two for Xiao Hu, who was expected to return from the mountain that day. The rest he used as a polite gift and brought to the Zhao household.

The early March midday weather was warm. Village Head Zhao had gone out early to urge spring plowing and measure the fields and was now taking a nap.

Madam Zhang had gone to visit her family in town, and the hired hand was dozing off in a corner by the gate.

When he saw Qi Beinan approaching, he jolted awake and nearly tripped, then quickly led him inside.

Only Zhao Guangzong was still indoors, full of energy, studying.

Qi Beinan picked up one of the practice calligraphy sheets on the desk and scanned it at a glance.

Zhao Guangzong, noticing this, immediately put down his book and looked rather nervous, like a student being examined by a teacher.

“How is my calligraphy coming along?”

Qi Beinan looked over the imitated Cold Food Festival Poem Manuscript and nodded. “It’s improved.”

“Really?”

Hearing this, a smile bloomed on Zhao Guangzong’s face.

Qi Beinan said, “Compared to before, your characters have taken form.”

Zhao Guangzong could tell Qi Beinan wasn’t flattering him, and he grew even more pleased.

Since leaving the private school, he’d been studying at home behind closed doors and felt that he could now concentrate better than when he had studied under Old Man Chen.

Back then, he was always fearful of Old Man Chen, trying hard to write well and study diligently just to gain his approval.

Now that he was far removed from him—without the constant threat of the rod—his hand was steadier, and his brushstrokes smoother.

His mind also seemed clearer. After reading a passage three times, he could remember most of it. With further effort, he could recite it fluently.

Plus, with Qi Beinan’s handwritten notes, he had gained many new insights while reading.

He pulled over a stool and invited Qi Beinan to sit, speaking with genuine eagerness. “Your handwriting is exceptional—could you give me a few pointers on these scribbles of mine?”

Qi Beinan chuckled. “Is there anything in particular that’s troubling you?”

“I can now imitate the shapes well enough, but I still feel like something’s missing. It’s not that I’m trying to compare myself to you, but after looking at your characters and then back at mine, mine feel like flashy but hollow tricks.”

Qi Beinan said, “That realization shows you’ve started to apply your mind.”

He pointed to the copybook. “Writing is like being a person—form alone is not enough; there must be spirit. And where does the spirit come from? It comes from the hand of the person who wrote it. That spirit must be infused into the work.”

“When one first learns to write, imitation is key. You copy the brushwork, the structure, and the strengths of others—but you can’t rely on imitation forever. You have to begin forming your own thoughts and insights. Otherwise, what you write will always be someone else’s—it may have form, but no soul.”

Zhao Guangzong raised his brows, having been enlightened by this explanation.

He asked, “Then should I stop imitating and start composing on my own?”

Qi Beinan shook his head. “Not yet. As you imitate, try to place yourself in the mindset of the great masters who wrote those pieces. Imagine what they were feeling when they wrote it. Immerse yourself. When you put brush to paper, don’t let your strokes be restrained—write boldly and from the heart.”

Zhao Guangzong was immediately filled with excitement and eagerly began grinding ink to practice.

“You go ahead and write—I’ll go wash two peaches for us.”

Village Head Zhao had heard that Qi Beinan was visiting and got up from his kang bench to dress.

As he passed by Zhao Guangzong’s room, he overheard Qi Beinan giving calligraphy guidance and didn’t dare interrupt.

Lately, his Guangzong had been studying diligently at home, often bursting into laughter while reading.

Village Head Zhao had been busy running around seeking a new private tutor and had been worried his son might give up on studying after all the setbacks.

Now, seeing him so focused at home, his heart was at ease.

He’d heard time and again that Qi Beinan was a man of talent and insight. Hearing a bit of his instruction today, he finally understood why.

A good teacher and a virtuous friend—Guangzong was truly fortunate.

“Village Head.”

Qi Beinan came out and ran into the thoughtful Village Head Zhao, greeting him with a bow.

“The hired hand said you’d arrived. I was just thinking of coming to greet you.”

Village Head Zhao greeted him warmly. “Come, have some tea with me in the hall.”

As the two drank tea together, Qi Beinan expressed his thanks for Madam Zhang having spoken up for him at the gathering in the Zheng household.

“There’s no need to thank me. It was Qin Niazi who was in the wrong.”

Village Head Zhao said, “Even if it wasn’t you, she still needed to be taken down a notch.”

Qi Beinan said, “It’s just that now she’s favored at the manor—I worry she’ll strain your relationship with the estate.”

Village Head Zhao waved his hand. “Don’t worry. He doesn’t have anything on me. I don’t ask him for favors, either. But I’m more worried that Qin Niazi’s personality might cause trouble for your family.”

“If she bothers you again, just come tell me.”

Qi Beinan’s heart warmed slightly, and he thanked the village head.

Then he asked about the background of Ping Manor.

“Ping Manor? It used to be barren land. That year we had an influx of disaster victims in the county, and the magistrate led people to clear the land and settled them there.”

Qi Beinan said, “So it’s the magistrate’s property?”

Village Head Zhao nodded. “Back then, he was just the county magistrate. That was over twenty years ago—he’s long since been promoted and transferred.”

“As for stewards, this Zhu fellow is the third one already. I heard from the previous steward that their master now holds a position in Jinling—he’s a sixth-rank circuit judge.”

Qi Beinan felt a ripple of surprise in his heart. He paused, then cautiously asked, “Do you know his surname?”

“Let me think… it’s the eleventh year of Kaide now, so the county magistrate from twenty years ago… if I’m not mistaken, his surname was Jiang!”

“There aren’t many people surnamed Jiang around here. Otherwise, to be honest, I might not have remembered. We’d have to ask one of the village elders to be sure.”

Qi Beinan asked again, “Would you happen to know if this former Magistrate Jiang was from Jiangzhou?”

Village Head Zhao said with some difficulty, “That I can’t say. It was too long ago. But if you really want to know, I can ask around for you.”

Truth be told, upon hearing the surname, post, and location, Qi Beinan already had a good guess in mind.

Barring some huge coincidence, this Ping Manor estate likely belonged to his old friend Jiang Tangyuan’s family.

In the eleventh year of Kaide—this very year—was when he had gone to Jinling to study at Qiushan Academy.

At the time, Jiang Tangyuan had also gone with his father to their post and was studying at the same academy.

They were assigned to the same dorm and, since they were both from Jiangzhou and shared similar temperaments, quickly became inseparable.

That year, during the academy’s New Year break, Jiang Tangyuan—knowing he was alone with no family—dragged him home to celebrate.

He remembered clearly: Father Jiang was then serving as a magistrate in Jinling.

During a wine-soaked meal, Father Jiang had shared stories from his early career to encourage the two boys to study hard.

Among them, he spoke of his first post as a new official—county magistrate in Ling County.

The Jiang family were kind people. Learning that Qi Beinan was orphaned and studying far from home, they looked after him often during his time at Qiushan Academy.

Had it not been for the Jiang family’s care, those years would have been much rougher.

Qi Beinan felt a pang of reflection—his father had given him a good name indeed.

“Beinan”—north and south. A man who walks between them.

And so he had. He’d traveled north and south, seen many places, met many people.

But now, he would not walk those same roads again, nor would he necessarily meet those old friends along the way.

He wondered whether, without him at Qiushan Academy, Jiang Tangyuan still slept through morning roll calls and got scolded for being late all the time.

When the summer heat rolled in, did anyone still crawl out through the dog hole under the courtyard wall to fetch icy mung bean soup?

Qi Beinan shook the thoughts away. Though the past roads had been vibrant, he did not regret his path.

What he had now—peace and stability—was far more precious.

If fate allowed, he would surely meet Jiang Tangyuan again someday.

When Qi Beinan returned home, Xiao Hu had also come back.

Stepping into the courtyard, he realized the house was lively. Fang Youliang had come up the mountain, and the two men were sharing wine.

“Just in time, Village Head gave me a bowl of pickled pig’s trotters with fresh bamboo shoots to go with the wine.”

Fang Youliang accepted it. “Looks like I’ve benefited from your luck.”

“I brought up a few salted duck eggs and century eggs too. Peel one and try. My mother just finished preparing them.”

“Great.”

Qi Beinan sat down. He was also starting to learn how to drink, though he drank little—mostly to keep them company.

Xiao Hu saw he returned alone and asked after Xiao Yuanbao. He replied the child had gone off with his teacher. Xiao Hu paused for a moment, then said he would go fetch him the next day.

Qi Beinan was happy to hear that.

“Brother Fang, what brings you up here drinking in the middle of spring work?”

During the spring plowing season, the fields required constant attention. Fang family worked their own land, unlike theirs, which they rented out. There was rarely time to sit idle—especially in the afternoon.

“I went down to the manor earlier and happened to run into Brother Xiao on his way back down, so we came up together to share a drink.”

“What did you go to the manor for?”

“I heard they were hiring people to carry manure, paid fifty wen a day. Our land is all prepped, and I had a bit of free time, so I thought I’d earn a few coins.”

Qi Beinan saw the frustration on his face. “So they didn’t take you?”

“No reason they wouldn’t. That job’s hard work, and the pay isn’t great—there aren’t many people fighting for it.”

“Exactly,” Fang Youliang said bitterly. “The steward took one look at me, saw I was strong, and agreed right away. Then that Qin Niazi came out and saw me. Said all sorts of sarcastic things and insisted I not be hired. The steward, trying to please her, sent me away.”

Xiao Hu had already heard about Qin Niazi remarrying and returning to the village.

He didn’t respond to Fang Youliang’s words. Whatever he was feeling, he just took another hard drink.

Qi Beinan said, “So that Steward Zhu listens to Qin Niazi.”

“Who knows what kind of love potion she fed him. He’s clearly lost all sense.”

Fang Youliang sighed. “Looks like she’s out to mess with both our families now.”

He was extremely frustrated. Just yesterday, a matchmaker came to propose a marriage for his Fang Jie’er. It should’ve been a joyous occasion.

But when they asked what kind of man he was, they were only told that he came from a family with money and was willing to offer twenty strings of cash for the bride price.

His mother found that strange and asked more questions—turned out the man was mentally impaired.

The matchmaker tried to persuade them, saying that if they married off his sister for a high bride price, he’d have enough money to marry a wife himself.

He was so angry he didn’t let her stay a moment longer and drove her out.

“I may be poor, but I won’t sell off my own sister. I was hoping to save up enough money to give her a proper dowry and find her a good family. That matchmaker insulted us.”

Qi Beinan also sighed, “Matchmakers from outside aren’t like those in our own village who know the people well. As long as they’re paid, they’ll talk up any sort of family. Don’t take it to heart.”

Fang Youliang blamed himself. “It’s my fault for being useless. Fang Jie’er’s still crying in the house right now.”

Qi Beinan paused for a moment. He hadn’t wanted to get involved with Qin Niazi, but it seemed like even if he didn’t want to go, he’d have to now.

“I’ll go meet that Steward in a day or two. Let’s see what kind of man he really is.”

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