Ch 32: Reborn to Raise My Husband

The next morning, at Ping Manor.

Steward Zhu rose from the bed with a face full of cheer—he’d been entangled by Qin Niazi and had gotten up later than usual.

He lifted the bed curtain and found the room still dim. When he went to open the window, he saw the courtyard damp and muddy—it had rained.

“I told you it’d rain this morning and told you to sleep in, but you didn’t believe me,” Qin Niazi said, sitting up in bed as well. She wasn’t afraid of the cold, wearing only a red bellyband.

“How’d you know it was going to rain?”

“I heard the spring thunder last night.”

Steward Zhu thought to himself that he hadn’t heard a thing—but then grinned mischievously. With the way she had made him lose his mind last night, even her breathing had been enough to drown out the sound of thunder, let alone anything else.

A houseborn servant girl had been waiting outside with water for a while, and when she finally heard voices inside, she hurried in with the washbasin.

“Master, Lady, here’s water to wash your face and hands. Will you be eating breakfast in here or in the side room?”

“Bring it in—we’ll eat in the room,” Qin Niazi said, clearly enjoying being served.

“What’s for breakfast today?”

“We kneaded dough—there’s steamed buns, or we can make noodles. The cook said they’re waiting on your instructions.”

The servant replied, sneaking a glance at Qin Niazi.

She saw Qin Niazi sitting cross-legged on the bed with the curtain wide open, her pale skin exposed in a way that made it hard to know where to look—especially that bit of cloth across her chest, which barely covered anything.

The servant girl blushed furiously and quickly lowered her head.

“Noodles then. Tell the kitchen to ladle a spoonful of sautéed fresh bamboo shoots and minced pork over them.”

The servant responded and retreated, shutting the door behind her before heading to the kitchen.

“That woman—yesterday she wanted shepherd’s purse wontons, now it’s meat noodles. Always picking the dishes with meat,” grumbled the cook.

“She’s spoiled rotten by the steward,” the servant said as she helped stoke the fire, then quietly described what she had seen in the room.

The kitchen quickly filled with scornful muttering.

Unaware of it all, Qin Niazi got dressed at her leisure, completely unbothered about hiding from Steward Zhu—sparking yet another round of lust from him, and they tangled together once more.

Though the weather was cold, they worked up a sweat.

Wiping her face and neck with a wet cloth, Qin Niazi, seeing the man grinning in satisfaction, took the chance to say:

“I’ve lived comfortably here with you, but in my heart, something still feels off.”

Steward Zhu, now doting and softhearted, quickly asked, “What’s wrong? Who’s giving you trouble?”

“No one dares cross me,” Qin Niazi replied. “They all fear your authority. But the better I live, the more I can’t stop thinking about my son. That child’s got no father or mother to care for him, and my family doesn’t love him much—I can’t help worrying.”

“How kindhearted of you as a mother. If you’re worried about him, I’ll send some rice and meat to your family for him.”

Qin Niazi saw his openness and pushed further: “You’re kind, but sending food doesn’t mean the boy will actually get to eat it.”

Steward Zhu asked, “Then what do you want to do?”

“Why don’t I bring him here?” she said, poking at his chest. “He can help the kitchen maids learn some work. Didn’t you say that if he’s clever, you’d recommend him to the household in Jinling? But if he never learns anything, how can he go?”

Steward Zhu hesitated, and Qin Niazi pretended to grow upset.

“What—were all those promises just sweet talk? I left the moment I was divorced and came here to be with you, never mind what others said about my reputation. If I’d known this, I shouldn’t have let you help me up that day when you first came to the manor. I let my heart go to waste.”

Flustered, Steward Zhu said quickly, “Alright, alright, I’ll agree. Bring him over—this manor can feed another mouth.”

Qin Niazi beamed, already feeling like she could command wind and rain here.

Soon, breakfast was served, and the two of them enjoyed their noodles comfortably in the bedroom.

Not long after, the servant girl returned again. “Master, someone’s here to see you.”

“Who?” Steward Zhu asked. “Someone from the village looking for work?”

“Doesn’t seem like it. It’s a young man—says his name is Qi Beinan.”

The moment she heard the name, Qin Niazi, who’d been happily slurping noodles, froze and her face changed. “What’s he doing here?”

“You know him?”

“He’s the one who came leeching off the Xiao family.”

Thinking of the scolding she’d received from Madam Zhang at the Zheng family’s feast, Qin Niazi’s face burned with shame. She’d known she couldn’t outargue the Village Head’s wife, so instead she resented Qi Beinan and the Xiao family even more.

“Probably here to ask a favor. Ignore that clingy pest—let him stand out there in the rain and wind a while before sending him off.”

Seeing her displeasure, Steward Zhu waved at the servant girl and nodded. “Do as she says.”

The servant girl left but thought to herself—this young man was sharp indeed.

He’d said earlier that if Qin Niazi refused to let him in, then deliver this message: “If I can’t see the master, then I ask him to kindly pass along my greetings to Lord Jiang.”

Steward Zhu gulped down the mouthful of noodles he had just sucked in. “Greet who?”

The servant girl, born and raised on this manor, only knew that the steward was the highest-ranking person here—she had no idea who the master above him was. She answered blankly, “Greet Lord Jiang.”

Steward Zhu immediately changed his mind. “Bring the guest to the hall, serve him a cup of tea—I’ll be right there.”

“Yes, sir,” the servant girl replied and went out with the message.

“What are you doing?” Qin Niazi asked, annoyed as she gave him a playful shove. “Didn’t you say to send him away? Now you’re giving him tea? Do you even know how he used to treat me at the Xiao household?”

Steward Zhu replied, “Don’t worry, I’m just going to sound him out. Best not to act rashly and miss something important.”

Qi Beinan sat in the reception hall and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the rain off his clothes.

He hadn’t arrived particularly early, and with the rain slowing his steps, he hadn’t expected that life on the manor was so leisurely that even the steward hadn’t yet risen.

He accepted the hot tea the servant girl brought him without hesitation, warming up slightly as he drank.

The name of Lord Jiang worked like a charm—within moments, Steward Zhu emerged with a wide, flattering smile.

Qi Beinan sized him up: a round face, large nose—not ugly, but not pleasant either. His features were unfamiliar. Qi Beinan was sure they had never met.

“Apologies for keeping you waiting, young master. Something in the house held me up.”

“No trouble. I came without prior notice—please forgive the intrusion,” Qi Beinan said with a bow.

The Jiang family hailed from a scholarly background, and Zhu Yongxian immediately recognized that Qi Beinan was a learned man.

This made him more cautious, and his tone softened even further.

“I’m newly stationed here at Ping Manor, and didn’t know what brought young master to visit today.”

“It’s not a pressing matter. I heard Steward Zhu recently arrived from Jinling, so I thought I’d pay a visit and ask whether Lord Jiang is in good health. He has always been upright and diligent in his service to the people. Now that he’s a prefect in Jinling—a bustling city—I worry he may be overworked.”

Zhu Yongxian’s expression shifted. “Yes, our lord has always been that way—serving the nation and the people. Fortunately, his health remains strong.”

Hearing this, Qi Beinan revealed a sincere smile of relief.

“He’s always had a fondness for pickled cucumber fish with chive blossom—does he still enjoy it?”

Zhu Yongxian was taken aback. This young man even knew their lord’s favorite dish? If not for someone from his family working in the main kitchen, he—Steward Zhu, working in the outer manor—wouldn’t even know that.

“It’s rare for someone to be so thoughtful. The lord’s appetite is good, and that’s why his health is so well.”

Qi Beinan continued, “And how is Fourth Young Master Jiang? I heard he’s now studying at Qiushan Academy—is everything going well?”

Zhu Yongxian let out a slow breath. “Yes, very well. The Fourth Young Master is progressing in his studies, and our lord is very pleased.”

Qi Beinan nodded, locking eyes with him. “In that case, I’m sure he’ll achieve good results in this year’s examination.”

“Yes, yes. The Fourth Young Master is diligent—he’s bound to succeed.”

Just a few lines, and Zhu Yongxian’s curiosity about Qi Beinan’s background had reached its peak.

He politely chatted a bit more about the Jiang family before carefully asking about Qi Beinan’s connection to them.

Naturally, Qi Beinan wouldn’t give a clear answer. He spoke vaguely, dropping hints at every turn:

“I’m from Jiangzhou. My late father was a xiucai. Lord Jiang has always cared for scholars.”

Zhu Yongxian gasped, “You’re an old acquaintance from the lord’s hometown—what a serious oversight on my part.”

Qi Beinan replied modestly, “To call myself an old friend would be too much. Lord Jiang is a high official—I wouldn’t dare claim such closeness. I simply couldn’t help but ask after his health.”

Zhu Yongxian’s mind raced. The Jiang family did indeed come from scholarly roots and were known to treat scholars well, but they weren’t so generous as to consider every scholar kin.

This young man was from Jiangzhou, knew of Lord Jiang’s current post, even knew about his food preferences and his son’s academic progress. That level of detail wasn’t something a mere outsider could uncover.

Besides, Jiangzhou and Ling County were far apart. How could someone without the right connections even gather news from Jinling?

Sweat started to bead on Zhu Yongxian’s back. Thank heavens he hadn’t been rude. If he had slighted someone with a true connection to the Jiang family and the master ever found out, he’d be in serious trouble.

Qi Beinan’s modest denial, in Zhu’s mind, only proved his humility. He carefully offered him another cup of tea.

“To think the manor still hosts one of the lord’s old acquaintances—I was nearly negligent. Young master, please don’t take offense.”

Qi Beinan knew he had taken the bait. He said, “You’re too polite, Steward Zhu. I only came to pay my respects—I had no intention of disturbing Lord Jiang or Fourth Young Master.”

“It’s rare to meet a friend from one’s homeland in a distant place. Our lord is a nostalgic man. He often says he’d like to retire and return home. If he knew an old friend was thinking of him, he’d be delighted.”

Zhu Yongxian added warmly, “Let me have the kitchen prepare a few dishes. Young master must stay and share a meal with us.”

Qi Beinan paused. “I heard that my former aunt is now living here with Steward Zhu. She’s truly fortunate. I haven’t seen her in some time and was just thinking of her—she always made an excellent soup.”

Zhu Yongxian jumped up. “I’ll have her cook something special for you.”

Qi Beinan raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t want to trouble her.”

“No trouble at all—she’s been idling around lately. She’d be happy to make a few dishes for you.”

Qi Beinan turned to Zhu Yongxian and said, “Steward Zhu wouldn’t know, but my aunt has always been a kind soul. She never says it aloud, but she’s deeply thoughtful.”

“She even mentioned me during the March Third banquet at the Zhengs’ house. When Village Head Zhao’s wife told me, I was really surprised. I thought Auntie had long since forgotten me.”

Zhu Yongxian had indeed heard about the scuffle between Qin Niazi and the village head’s wife during that March Third gathering.

When he first arrived, he had planned to ask Qin Niazi to apologize to the Zhao family’s matron.

But Qin Niazi had pleaded with tearful complaints, saying the village head’s wife was rough and unreasonable—embarrassing her in front of everyone.

Zhu Yongxian had sided with her, thinking, “She’s my woman now—if someone treats her like that, they’re disrespecting me.”

So he’d been holding some resentment toward the Zhao household.

But now hearing what Qi Beinan said, he glanced at Qin Niazi—who quickly avoided his gaze.

“I’ll take my leave now,” she tried to excuse herself.

“Stay right there.”

Zhu Yongxian said coldly, “Young Master Qi has come to dine—you, his aunt, shouldn’t you stay and accompany him?”

Qin Niazi didn’t dare disobey and had no choice but to sit back down.

“Have you no sense? Who said you could sit and eat with our guest like an equal? Your job is to serve him—pour the tea and help him to food.”

Qin Niazi’s face turned red. Embarrassed, she stood up again and poured tea for Qi Beinan with trembling hands.

Qi Beinan thought: this steward does know how to enforce discipline.

“Auntie,” he said casually while eating, “why didn’t you let Brother Fang help out yesterday? I heard he came asking to work for Steward Zhu.”

“You know how strong he is. Even the county office gave him a labor permit once—they praised him for his hard work.”

Qin Niazi froze. She knew now why this brat had really come—he wasn’t up to anything good.

She forced out a smile. “I thought Brother Fang had too much on his hands at home. I was just worried he’d be too busy.”

“Oh, I see. I almost thought you didn’t like the Fang family. Didn’t you once mistake their child for stealing money?”

“N-no, of course not!”

Qin Niazi was flustered and didn’t dare look Zhu Yongxian in the eye.

Zhu Yongxian followed up smoothly: “You’re talking about the brother who came looking for work yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“I saw his frame—broad shoulders and strong arms—clearly a solid worker. When you go back, tell him for me to come work. I only held him back ‘cause your aunt said he might be tied up with the farm work. We can’t let such a strong hand go to waste.”

Qi Beinan smiled and agreed.

After the meal, he sat a while longer before finally taking his leave.

Qin Niazi had served like a servant the whole time. Just as she finally thought she could breathe easy seeing him about to go, she noticed Zhu Yongxian didn’t care for her at all—he not only escorted Qi Beinan out of the manor but also mentioned Xiao Hu, even inviting him to keep delivering mountain goods to the manor.

He said something about how wind-cured produce was just right for sending to the main household as a New Year gift.

Qin Niazi was so furious she clutched her face and ran back to her room, collapsing onto the bed and sobbing until she was breathless.

Her heart was bitter. That brat was a real demon—he had some kind of supernatural ability.

She had clearly gone off to live a better life, yet he still found a way to suppress her and make her suffer.

Just a few days ago, she’d already lost face at the Zhengs’ place. Now this little bastard had even come to her doorstep, making her pour tea and serve him like some young master.

And all these men—how could they all be fooled by him?

First the hunter, then the Fang family, now even the village head’s household, and now this damn steward too…

She really must’ve burned through all her luck in her past eight lives to end up crossing paths with that boy.

She had no idea which deity was watching over him, but everyone seemed to help him, take his side.

From that day on, Qin Niazi was so angry she fell ill, lying in bed for five or six days straight.

Zhu Yongxian, feeling a bit sorry for her, eventually brought over Wang Chao. Only then did Qin Niazi’s condition begin to improve.

But that’s a story for another time.

When Qi Beinan returned home, Xiao Hu had already left with an umbrella to pick up Xiao Yuanbao from the neighboring village, unable to wait any longer.

With no one home, Qi Beinan stopped by the Fang household on the way and passed on Zhu Yongxian’s message to Fang Youliang.

But Fang Youliang wasn’t home—only Fang Jie’er was there, washing clothes under the eaves, and the Old Fang was lying in bed, sick.

The weather was cold and rainy, and the old man had been coughing badly.

“Thank you, Mister Qi, for going back and forth for our family.”

“No need for polite words.”

Qi Beinan said, “Just let your brother know. Xiao Bao’s coming back today—I’ll head home Jie’er get some hot water ready.”

Fang Erjie suddenly called out, “Wait a moment. I just made some new hair oil, peach blossom scented—bring it back for Yuanbao.”

She rushed inside and returned with a small porcelain bottle of hair oil. Qi Beinan took it and gave it a sniff—it was indeed fragrant.

“Xiao Bao’s hair is soft and thin. He should eat more black beans, red dates, and walnuts ground into powder. It’ll help make his hair thick and black.”

Qi Beinan said, “You don’t just braid well, you even know how to care for hair.”

Fang Jie’er smiled with pursed lips. “I only know these useless things.”

She blamed herself for being of little use. If she’d agreed to the marriage the matchmaker brought, she might’ve been able to help the family—but she couldn’t resign herself to such a life.

She’d been feeling heavy-hearted these past few days.

Qi Beinan said, “How is that useless? This is talent. In the city, there are professional hairdressers who make a living braiding hair for ladies in wealthy households.”

“If your skill is good, you won’t just get by—you’ll live respectably.”

Fang Jie’er’s heart stirred. “There really is such work? I’ve been stuck in the fields since I was little—short-sighted as I am, I never knew braiding hair could be a real trade.”

“There are all kinds of trades. As long as your skill is honed, you can make a living.”

Qi Beinan said, “There’s all kinds of business in the city—more than one could imagine.”

“Thanks again for the hair oil. I’ll be off now.”

Fang Jie’er stood under the eaves, watching Qi Beinan walk away under the umbrella. Her eyes lit up, and she stood there for a long while, lost in thought.

…

Rainy days darkened the sky early.

Back home, Qi Beinan spent a good while writing by lamplight, until the room suddenly seemed too dim.

He stepped outside and realized it had gotten quite late, the rain falling even heavier now.

He fetched some rice to rinse and started cooking.

“Gege!”

Just as he scooped the water, a cheerful voice called from the courtyard.

He stepped out to find that little scamp had come home.

Xiao Yuanbao was lying on Xiao Hu’s back, arms stretched upward holding an umbrella.

The umbrella was large and heavy, tilting side to side in his grip. The small bundle slung across his back was soaked through. His fine hair was a wet mess, plastered with droplets like sugar-frosted threads, and he looked like a drowned little pup.

Qi Beinan hurried forward and lifted him down.

Only when he got home did Xiao Yuanbao realize how cold he was—he shivered and burrowed into Qi Beinan’s warm arms.

“Where’s Jiang Fulang?”

“Teacher went home.”

Xiao Yuanbao hadn’t seen Qi Beinan for a day and a night. Seeing that not a single piece of him was missing, he was overjoyed.

His rain-chilled little face nuzzled into Qi Beinan’s neck, seeking warmth and closeness.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚