Ch 46: Reborn to Raise My Husband

“Ming family rose through the timber trade, and even now we’ve stuck solely to this line of business—quite shameful, really,” said Ming Da as he sat chatting with Qi Beinan in the side hall.

“In my generation, even less promising. I’m no good at much else, only fond of making friends. I didn’t expect that having talented friends all over the place would, by sheer luck, end up helping my business quite a bit.”

Qi Beinan caught the underlying meaning in his words.

This Ming Da, inviting all sorts to his home regardless of status and treating them to food and drink, wasn’t just doing it for company.

His true aim was business. As a merchant, what he valued most was news—and news came from connections.

If one had neither family background nor official title, and lacked long-term insight, then today’s invitation was likely the last one.

Merchants valued profit—Qi Beinan had always known that.

And it wasn’t simply that merchants chased gain. He and Ming Da had no personal ties, weren’t relatives or even neighbors. Without value to offer, who would warmly entertain someone three or four times over? Surely not someone with money burning a hole in their pocket.

If Ming Da had not hinted at this motive and only invited him to chat idly, Qi Beinan might have suspected that the man had a marriageable child in the household and was considering him as a match.

Now that Ming Da made his intentions clear, it put both at ease.

Qi Beinan replied, “Master Ming’s steadfast commitment to timber has brought about today’s success. And your talent for building connections—though not every friend across the land is a genius—speaks to your keen eye for talent.”

Ming Da laughed, “You scholars speak in such a smooth and pleasant way. It’s truly a joy to converse with you.”

Qi Beinan continued, “Master Ming doesn’t mind my youth and has generously entertained me more than once. You are a genuinely warm and open-hearted person. Allow me to speak a few humble thoughts—if I overstep, please don’t take offense.”

“I am no expert in business, but I do observe the times. This winter has been bitterly cold, full of snow and ice—I fear that drought may follow in the coming year.”

Ling County had always been known for favorable weather, able to withstand floods and droughts better than other regions. Still, while disasters might not hit directly, their effects always reached far.

For example, if another area flooded, Ling County would often experience heavy rains too, hurting the harvest. If drought struck elsewhere, Ling County would likely suffer heatwaves and crop loss as well.

“If Master Ming doesn’t mind the trouble and has some silver to spare, it may be worth storing some ice this winter. Should there be a drought next summer, the price of ice will skyrocket.”

This year’s heavy snow made the rivers freeze over—perfect conditions for harvesting and storing ice.

Qi Beinan himself had wanted to store some ice and sell it in the summer, but he knew that storing ice till then was no easy feat for a common family.

At present, ice-making techniques were not advanced. Most ice used in summer came from the previous winter’s stock.

But ice was hard to store. In winter it was nearly worthless, like rainwater. But in summer, it became a luxury. Wealthy households could fill vats with it to cool rooms; commoners would buy a chilled drink to beat the heat.

Demand was high, supply was low—of course the price soared.

But proper storage was essential. One needed large, intact blocks of thick ice, ideally from secluded, sealed-off areas. Shards and fragments would melt quickly, and the whole effort would be wasted.

And one needed ice cellars—deep, cool, dry places where the ice could be stored long-term. The bigger the cellar and the more tightly packed the ice, the slower it would melt.

All of this required labor, materials, and space—beyond the reach of ordinary folks.

So rather than keep the idea to himself, Qi Beinan shared it with the Ming family. With their wealth, they could easily stockpile a good amount.

Ming Da looked at him with newfound respect.

In his household, though there were many hangers-on, none had mentioned the risk of drought. Most assumed that, since it was cold and wet, next year would be another flood year.

“Young Master Qi, you have sharp insight. This is the first I’ve heard such a prediction.”

Qi Beinan knew Ming Da might not believe him—after all, judging by the weather, everyone was predicting more rain.

But in past years, similar complacency had led to major losses.

“Forecasting the weather is inherently uncertain,” he said. “If humans could predict the skies, the world would always be in harmony.”

“His Majesty established the Imperial Observatory for this very reason, and even those officials who specialize in divining the heavens make mistakes. Yet still, the people suffer.”

“I don’t say this to boast,” he added. “Only that this year’s weather has already shown anomalies. All signs point to flooding—but I suggest Master Ming prepare for both outcomes. It may be troublesome, but it’s safer.”

Ming Da pondered a moment and agreed. After all, when nature turned strange, those who had foresight and stocked up on grain would always come out ahead—whether facing flood or drought, crop yields would drop, and prices would rise.

Aside from grain, drought meant ice must also be stockpiled.

Ming Da was in high spirits, chatting with Qi Beinan, when the steward came into the hall.

“You didn’t tell him I was receiving guests?”

“I did as soon as he arrived,” the steward replied. “But Scholar Chen insisted on coming in to see what sort of guest the master was hosting.”

Ming Da paused, then said, “Let him come then. As it happens, Young Master Qi is also a scholar.”

Qi Beinan could tell another guest was on the way. Feeling a bit thirsty, he picked up his tea for a sip.

Soon after, a man walked in, clearly quite familiar with the place.

“Old Ming, what fine guest are you hiding away without calling me to come meet?”

But as soon as he turned and caught sight of Qi Beinan seated there, the smile dropped from his face.

“This is Young Master Qi, whom I’ve recently come to know. His calligraphy is absolutely superb,” said Ming Da, still unaware that the two already knew each other. He even praised Qi Beinan: “You’re a proper scholar, but even you would be impressed by this young man’s brushwork.”

Qi Beinan hadn’t expected to run into Chen Fuzi here—this was the same man who had once been Zhao Guangzong’s first tutor.

Back when Zhao Guangzong passed the county examination with a top score, even with a father working in the education office, it had been quite an achievement. Qi Beinan had heard the old man had retired last year, and no longer lingered around the academy as often.

Shameless, this man had once set Zhao Guangzong back terribly. After breaking away from Chen’s poor tutelage, Zhao Guangzong had locked himself in for a year and, with no official teacher, passed the exam on his own. It should have been a slap to Chen’s face.

But somehow the man turned it into bragging rights—telling others that his former pupil had become a top-ranked scholar, taking all the credit.

Zhao Guangzong was disgusted. The same man who once insulted him now fawned over his success. Yet whenever Zhao Guangzong turned a cold shoulder, onlookers accused him of being disrespectful, making Chen Fuzi seem all the more gracious and magnanimous.

It had driven Zhao Guangzong to storm back to the village on his day off, ranting to Qi Beinan in fury.

Truly, enemies always find each other.

Qi Beinan smiled and greeted, “Beinan pays respect to Scholar Chen. Your good name has long been known to me—what a pleasure to finally meet in person.”

Chen Fuzi certainly remembered him. He’d only met Qi Beinan twice, but both times were during his own professional stumbles—how could he forget?

Hearing Ming Da’s exaggerated praise only made him feel worse. If Master Ming knew the backstory, he’d think the praise was a deliberate jab.

Chen Fuzi sat down, forcing a smile. “You’re a scholar too? You don’t quite look it—I thought you were a farmer.”

“It’s nice to have neat handwriting,” he added, “but what matters in the exams is fine composition, not just the calligraphy.”

Qi Beinan smiled—same old tricks, always bringing up his farming background.

“You have a sharp eye, Scholar Chen. I do come from a farming household. Forgive my ignorance, but has the exam system been updated to assess appearance as well? Must one look the part of a scholar to even qualify or receive bonus points? Scholar Chen, you’re well-informed—please do enlighten me.”

Chen Fuzi stiffened and glanced at him sideways.

“And may I ask who your teacher is, and how many exams you’ve sat?”

“Family tutelage,” said Qi Beinan calmly. “I haven’t sat for any yet.”

That made Chen Fuzi chuckle. “So you’re trying to follow that example—lock yourself in for a year and aim to be a top scorer on your first try?”

“I almost forgot—you and he are acquainted. Still, allow me to give you some advice. Just because someone else succeeded that way doesn’t mean you will.”

“Never tested, already arrogant. I’ve seen your kind—wait until you sit the exam. Then you’ll learn your place.”

Even Ming Da, not the most perceptive man, could sense the tension in the room.

He quickly stepped in: “Ah, Old Chen, you’ve started lecturing again the moment you sat down. You two scholars are deep in your world—I can’t even chime in.”

“Young Master Qi and I were just discussing whether to stockpile ice next year.”

Chen Fuzi scoffed. “It’s been snowing heavily this month. Clearly, next year will be cooler. Who in their right mind would think of hoarding ice?”

The conversation had run its course. Qi Beinan no longer cared to argue. If Master Ming believed him, he’d take action. If not, even ten thousand words wouldn’t help.

He ignored Chen Fuzi and calmly sipped his tea.

Chen Fuzi, seeing him stay silent, pressed on: “Young Master Qi, do you truly believe next year warrants ice storage?”

Qi Beinan acted deaf: “This tea from Master Ming is excellent.”

So much for “just a few words”—even Ming Da was getting annoyed at Chen Fuzi’s obsessive need to one-up the conversation.

He said, “Young Master Qi, if you enjoy the tea, take some with you when you leave.”

“This room’s so warm with all the braziers, we’ll catch fire before long. I recently got some snow pears—they’re thin-skinned and sweet, perfect for cooling down.”

Then he turned to the steward and said, “Go fetch them, let Scholar Chen and Young Master Qi try a few.”

Chen Fuzi let out a cold snort. Realizing it was no fun talking to himself, he didn’t speak again.

Qi Beinan stayed in the hall a while longer, thinking that Xiao Yuanbao ought to be back by now. But after waiting and still not seeing him, he excused himself and asked to leave so he could fetch him.

Ming Da wanted to keep him for a meal, but this time, Qi Beinan didn’t accept.

So Ming Da had to send someone to call for Xiao Yuanbao.

“Why’s he leaving already? How come Father didn’t keep Scholar Qi to stay for dinner?”

Over in the Baozhu Pavilion, Ming Guanxin grumbled when the servant relayed the message. “I was playing with Bao Ge’er just fine, and we even said we’d eat dinner together.”

Xiao Yuanbao quickly explained, “Second Young Master is kind, but it’s probably my brother who feels it’s time to return. We didn’t tell our family clearly when we left, so they might be worried since we haven’t gone back yet.”

Ming Guanxin hadn’t had his fill of fun with Xiao Yuanbao, but he couldn’t exactly stop someone from leaving either.

“My father is really… so careless. Invites someone over and doesn’t even arrange things properly ahead of time so they can let their family know.”

He stepped down from the warm couch. The indigo silk-covered platform was scattered with a pile of delicate toys—clay Rabbit Generals, lady-shaped tumbling dolls, intricate puzzle boxes like the Huarong Road, Nine Linked Rings, Luban Locks, and more…

A servant rushed over to help him into his shoes.

“Go fetch a few packs of good pastries. I want to give them to Bao Ge’er to take home.”

“No need to trouble yourself. I’ve already eaten plenty of your tea and snacks,” Xiao Yuanbao said.

“Oh, that doesn’t count.”

Ming Guanxin replied cheerfully, “I actually wanted to have you cook something with me today, but we didn’t prepare any meat or vegetables. Next time, I’ll send someone to invite you again—then you have to come, okay?”

“Sure.”

Xiao Yuanbao stepped down from the couch as well and smiled. “Your room smells so nice—it’s like stepping into a spring flower garden. If you invite me, I’ll definitely come.”

Ming Guanxin beamed with joy.

The two tidied themselves up, and he personally saw Xiao Yuanbao out.

When they left, a servant carried a large box filled with things—gifts Ming Guanxin had prepared for him.

In this household, whenever a guest came over—whether a close friend or someone his father invited him to entertain—gifts were always sent when they left.

It was just that he liked Xiao Yuanbao, so he gave a little more.

As before, the Ming family arranged a carriage to escort the two of them back to the village.

“I know you like making connections,” Chen Fuzi said to Ming Da as the carriage disappeared down the road, “but you really shouldn’t befriend just anyone. I’ve told you so many times—these poor lads latch onto you because you’re generous. They spin a few fancy words and end up eating and taking from you.”

“People like that only come when there’s food involved—probably hadn’t even seen you before today. Just wait, they’ll stick to you like leeches now. You won’t be able to shake them off.”

Ming Guanxin had once thought his father was exactly like Chen Fuzi described, but he genuinely liked Xiao Yuanbao and wasn’t pleased hearing him talked about like this.

“All those gifts were my idea.”

“Second Young Master, you’re still young and naive. Look how easily you were sweet-talked by some village kid. Do you know how hard your father works to earn all this?”

“Uncle Chen, I can tell who’s good and who’s not. He never once asked me for anything—it was all freely given.”

Then he said faintly, “Doesn’t Father always want to give you whatever’s good too, Uncle Chen?”

And with that, he said it was cold and excused himself back inside.

Ming Da hadn’t spoken during their exchange, only smiled at Chen Fuzi.

“Old Chen, stay for dinner before heading back. We’re having roasted mutton today.”

Chen Fuzi said, “Don’t play dumb with me. That boy talked about hoarding ice. Don’t you dare follow that nonsense. If it backfires, you’ll have wasted a fortune.”

“You’re not a child anymore,” Ming Da chuckled. “Why are you still bickering with a young man like that?”

“Let’s not talk about this anymore. Whether to stock ice or not, you nearly embarrassed me in front of a guest. Regardless of his opinion, I invited him into my home. If it’s come to this, then I’ll just say it plain: if he’s here, I won’t be. If I’m here, then he can’t be.”

Ming Da’s chest heaved with breath, but he kept a smile on his face. “You’re being childish now.”

“All right, all right. No more talk of that boy. Let’s crack open a good jar of wine and enjoy the lamb.”

Chen Fuzi kept his hands behind his back and said nothing.

“There’s a zitan wood mountain-carved ornament in the house. Why not take it home and let your father admire it?”

At that, Chen Fuzi’s face finally softened. “Is it a gift for him or for me?”

“You take it—either way, it’s yours.”

That finally pleased him. “It’s been a while since I had your roasted mutton. Make sure they sprinkle extra cumin—it’s better that way.”

“Master, should we listen to Scholar Chen and not stock ice then?”

After Chen left for the dining room, the steward quietly asked Ming Da, seeing he didn’t look too pleased.

“Why wouldn’t we stock it? This year’s ice is better than usual. I’m stocking more than ever.”

The steward blinked. “So the master is doing it just to spite Scholar Chen?”

“Spite him?” Ming Da sneered. “That old fox wants to squeeze a little favor out of me—like I don’t know it. After all these years, have I ever shorted him?”

“We all know what’s what. And now he acts like he’s so above it all—what, too proud to show me basic respect?”

…

The horse galloped swiftly, and in the blink of an eye, they were already out of the city.

Xiao Yuanbao poked his head out of the carriage, watching the wind whip through the horse’s mane ahead—it looked fierce and grand.

This was his first time riding in a carriage.

He only felt that the space inside was incredibly roomy—four people could sit comfortably—and the cushions were soft. Once the silk curtains were drawn down, the cold wind was completely blocked outside. It was warm, just like being at home.

Sitting in a carriage in winter was far more comfortable than sitting on an ox-cart.

He thought to himself, having money really was a good thing.

His family had been considered one of the better-off households in the village for the past couple of years. They could afford meat every couple of days, and they even had two bolts of silk fabric they could show off.

He used to think that was already impressive. But after visiting the Ming family today, he realized just how vast the world was.

A person needed to broaden their horizons. If they just stayed holed up at the bottom of a well all day, they’d truly think that tiny patch of sky was all there was.

He had to work even harder, earn more money. Then, one day, his family could also ride in a carriage that shielded them from wind and sun. And they could buy all sorts of ceramic and porcelain jars—not even for storing things, but just to look nice.

Just imagining it made him swing his feet in joy.

“So happy?” Qi Beinan had been watching the expression on Xiao Yuanbao’s face quietly. He knew all his little gestures by heart.

Xiao Yuanbao pressed his lips together and nodded.

“I saw things today I’ve never seen before. I’m happy.”

Not only did he see flowers and trees he’d never encountered, but also dazzling treasures. He also learned that in big households, each member had their own courtyard, with separate kitchens, dedicated guest halls, studies, and sleeping chambers.

The courtyard of that Second Young Master from the Ming family was bigger than their entire home.

Qi Beinan couldn’t help smiling as well. “That Second Young Master of the Ming family was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, raised in luxury. Weren’t you nervous getting to know someone like that?”

“I was a bit nervous at first,” Xiao Yuanbao admitted. “The Ming family was so grand, and Master Ming’s robe alone probably costs more than a few oxen. But I thought—since I was already a guest in someone’s home, I couldn’t just hide and avoid them.”

“After I met him, I asked myself: why should I be nervous? Just because they’re rich and might look down on someone like me, a farm boy?”

“But so what if I am a farm boy? My father treats me well, and so do you, brother. I eat my fill and dress warmly. I have a good life—nothing to be looked down upon.”

“And if we don’t talk about background, just people as people—Second Young Master Ming knows how to read, and so do I. He’s seen a lot and eaten many good things, but I have skills—I can cook! Comparing person to person, I may not be worse than anyone else.”

Xiao Yuanbao continued, “Thinking it through like that, there really isn’t anything to feel timid or anxious about. It’s not like it’s an exam.”

“If we get along, then I gain a new friend—that’s great. And if we don’t, I just keep to proper manners and don’t offend anyone.”

“Be polite, stay humble, speak nicely—that’s enough. I’m not begging them for a bowl of rice; there’s no need to lower myself too much.”

Xiao Yuanbao tilted his head to look at Qi Beinan. “Isn’t that what you taught me, brother?”

Qi Beinan’s smile spread visibly. He couldn’t resist reaching over to pinch Xiao Yuanbao’s cheek.

Hearing all that filled his heart with warmth.

If only… if only things had been like this back then… A flicker of sorrow passed through his eyes.

But now things were different. Xiao Bao had grown up well.

“What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong, Brother?”

“No.”

Qi Beinan took Xiao Yuanbao’s hand in his own palm. “You said it very well, and you thought through it just right. All these years I’ve taught you haven’t gone to waste.”

“If hearts aren’t equal, friendships won’t last. When you make friends in the future, remember what you’re feeling now. Never put yourself down in the dust. Flattery can’t win real friends.”

Xiao Yuanbao nodded firmly. “I understand.”

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