Ch 75: Reborn to Raise My Husband

Back at the residence, Xiao Yuanbao entered calmly, but once the door closed behind him, his composure broke at once.

He leapt onto the bed, rolled back and forth several times in joy until his hair was completely tousled, and only then stopped himself.

He grabbed the quilt and buried his head tightly beneath it.

Though his body stilled, the joy in his chest refused to calm.

Brother Beinan liked him.

He had said his heart held no one else—that he only wanted to marry him.

Just as he liked Brother Beinan.

How wonderful.

Better than learning to write, better than learning to cook—better than anything in the world!

The more he thought about it, the lighter he felt, his heart swelling so full it might float away.

He thought, surely there could be nothing happier under heaven than this.

They still had so much time, so many days ahead together. Thinking of it filled him with hope for the future.

He was so delighted that when midday came, he didn’t feel hungry; when it passed and the afternoon rest came, he didn’t feel tired.

He was more energetic than ever, even more so than after a good night’s sleep.

As he rolled around again in giddy delight, a voice came from outside.

“Xiao Bao, Mama Liu just made some new osmanthus cakes. I brought some for you.”

Startled, Xiao Yuanbao jumped up from the bed.

He hastily straightened his clothes, steadied himself, and opened the door as naturally as he could.

“The osmanthus Mama Liu picked this year is especially clean and fragrant.”

Xiao Yuanbao took a whiff of the cakes, his mood as sweet as the scent.

He invited Qi Beinan to sit at the table and fetched fragrant tea to pair with the cakes. “I also preserved several jars with honey—they’re very sweet. When winter comes and the weather turns cold, you can take a spoonful of the honey and mix it with hot water. Osmanthus honey makes the best gift.”

Qi Beinan watched Xiao Yuanbao speaking so earnestly, though his hair was still a wild mess, as if someone had ruffled it several times.

“What were you doing in here?” he asked.

“Hm?” Xiao Yuanbao blinked, feigning innocence. “Nothing.”

“Then why is your hair such a mess?”

Qi Beinan reached out to smooth his soft strands. Thanks to Second Sister’s insistence on using fragrant oil over the years, his once thin hair had grown lush and glossy.

Flustered, Xiao Yuanbao covered his head, ears turning red. He ran to the vanity, looked into the bronze mirror, and saw that his hair indeed looked as though it had exploded. Guiltily, he grabbed a comb and hurried to fix it.

Qi Beinan stood by the curtain, watching him comb his hair. Then his eyes drifted to the bed, where the quilt was rumpled into a tangled heap—clearly evidence of several rolls across it.

He couldn’t help but laugh.

Seeing him laugh, Xiao Yuanbao quickly turned and fussed with the bedding again.

“I really should put a screen here,” he muttered. “Xin Ge’er’s courtyard has several—beautiful and practical for privacy.”

“Fine, we’ll get you one,” Qi Beinan said. “But things are a little tight lately. Once it eases up, we’ll buy a few more pieces for the house, all right?”

“Didn’t you earn some money from selling silk?” Xiao Yuanbao asked, puzzled. “How come it’s already tight?”

“It’s gone into another business venture,” Qi Beinan said, handing him a thick bundle of property deeds.

Xiao Yuanbao quickly set down his tea to take them. Feeling the weight, he counted the deeds one by one.

Fifteen in total.

All were for shops in Yunpingfang, Linzhou—and one of them was even a small three-story building.

He looked overjoyed. Though he already knew Qi Beinan planned to buy property, he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon—or on such a scale.

“So many! Are the shops in Linzhou really that cheap? A thousand guan could barely buy this much in the county.”

Qi Beinan smiled. “Shops in the prefectural city aren’t cheap. I just happened to find some good deals in a less busy area.”

“And the rent later—will it be enough? I don’t want it to turn into a loss.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Qi Beinan said with a light laugh.

Xiao Yuanbao grinned. “Of course. Brother Beinan always handles things so reliably.”

He carefully looked through the deeds again. “Others go to the prefecture for exams and think only of studying—you go and end up buying property.”

“If I don’t set down a few foundations now,” Qi Beinan teased, pinching his cheek, “how will we support a household when the family grows larger?”

Xiao Yuanbao blushed furiously and swatted his hand away—he was thinking much too far ahead!

After a pause, he remembered something. “Didn’t you say the xuezheng wanted to choose you as his son-in-law? What do you plan to do about that?”

Qi Beinan replied calmly, “The xuezheng said nothing outright, only that he’d wait until after the xiangshi results. I’d meant to handle it after the list was posted, but I didn’t expect Yang Chenxu to speak to me early.”

“Since there was no such intention on my part, I made it clear to him then. The Yang family are officials—they won’t cling or force the matter.”

Xiao Yuanbao felt a small wave of comfort but couldn’t help testing the waters again. “Then… what did you tell Young Master Yang?”

“What else could I say?” Qi Beinan replied evenly. “I told him the truth—that I already have a marriage promise.”

He looked straight at Xiao Yuanbao. “The engagement won’t change. Even if someone forced it, it would mean nothing.”

Hearing this, Xiao Yuanbao pressed his lips together, chewing his osmanthus cake, his heart sweet as honey.

Knowing that Qi Beinan had rejected someone else because of him—how could he not be happy?

Qi Beinan noticed he stayed quiet and smiled. “Not curious?” he teased. “I just said I have a marriage promise—don’t you want to know with whom?”

A realization crossed his face. “Wait. You already knew about our engagement, didn’t you?”

Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes shifted slightly, then he stopped hiding it. “Mm.”

Qi Beinan’s breath caught. “When did you find out?”

“Just after we moved into town,” Yuanbao admitted in a small voice, slightly embarrassed. “Father told me then. He said you were the xiao sanyuan—top scorer in all three county exams—and already so distinguished. When you bought the house in the county, he worried you’d be too far from his sight, so he told me to keep an eye on you and not let his good son-in-law slip away.”

Qi Beinan raised a brow. “Uncle Xiao really said that?”

“If you don’t believe me,” Yuanbao countered, “you can ask him yourself.”

Qi Beinan sighed. “You certainly didn’t carry out his orders properly. You knew all along and still pretended ignorance, as though you’d never heard of it—half the things you said to me were just to tease me.”

“I did not!” Yuanbao protested, flushing. “And you—you knew since we were children. Why keep it from me all these years? You and Father both fooled me together!”

Qi Beinan gave a soft sigh. “You think I didn’t want to tell you?”

“When I first came to live here, I had no estate, no title. Your father pitied you, and though he’s a man of his word and never treated me lightly despite my lack of family, what parent would easily entrust their child to such a person? I understood that. So I promised him I wouldn’t speak of the engagement until I had earned a name for myself—until I could give you a secure life. Only then would he decide.”

He smiled faintly. “But if what you said is true, then Uncle Xiao must have already accepted me.”

Yuanbao pouted a little. He didn’t believe that Qi Beinan had just realized Father’s approval—after all, for years now, most household matters had been decided by him; Beinan knew perfectly well what Father thought.

Seeing Yuanbao’s skeptical squint, Qi Beinan chuckled. “All right, yes—your father already told me his stance back then.”

“I didn’t tell you afterward for any hidden reason,” he continued gently. “You were still young. I didn’t want to tie you down with a promise—you deserved your own choice.”

Hearing this, Yuanbao’s heart lightened. After years together, their thoughts always seemed to align. It made him genuinely happy.

Qi Beinan went on, “My plan was to tell you after the xiangshi results came out.”

He paused, smiling ruefully. “But I didn’t expect today’s events to push me into saying it early. I was trying to test your feelings, and it seems I only made a mess of it.”

Realizing his mistake, Yuanbao looked a little guilty. He remembered how jealous and insecure he’d felt seeing Qi Beinan talking so long with Yang Chenxu, how his own temper had flared and his words had cut deeper than he meant. He hadn’t realized it would hurt Beinan that much.

Now that his emotions had cooled, Yuanbao whispered, “It was my fault. I understand your feelings now. I won’t say things like that again.”

He blinked up at him, coaxing softly, “You meant to tell me soon anyway. What’s the difference if I found out a few days early?”

Qi Beinan replied, “There is a difference. If I’d told you after the results came out—if I’d passed the exam first—it would’ve carried more weight, shown more sincerity.”

He had even prepared the shop deeds ahead of time, wanting to wait until he had both property and title before mentioning the engagement. Now everything had been thrown out of order.

Yuanbao said quietly, “Even without those things, our years together already mean enough to me. No matter how you put it, I’m the one reaching above my station. Why should you still work so hard to make it perfect? It only makes me feel unworthy.”

Every time Qi Beinan heard him belittle himself like that, a dull ache formed in his chest. He never wanted to relive those old days of helplessness—but Xiao Bao still made his heart twist with tenderness.

“Xiao Bao,” he said earnestly, “you’re worthy—of anyone’s best intentions, of the greatest sincerity, of the finest care. Don’t ever say you’re not again.”

Yuanbao looked into his steady eyes, and under that firm recognition, a warmth spread through him that words could not describe.

Cowardice—yes, part of it had always come from uncertainty. But now that Xiao Yuanbao was certain of Qi Beinan’s feelings, the timidity that had clung to him for years began to fade away.

He nodded lightly. “Mm. I understand now.”

Qi Beinan’s eyes softened with a smile. He squeezed Xiao Yuanbao’s hand, then, unsatisfied, reached up to pinch his cheek and tug gently at his ear.

Everywhere he looked, he saw something he liked—something that made his heart full.

Xiao Yuanbao grew annoyed from the teasing, so he reached up and touched Qi Beinan’s brow and the bridge of his high, straight nose.

He thought to himself, Such a handsome man—and from now on, he’ll be mine alone. The thought filled him with joy.

The two of them did not read, did not work; they simply stayed together in the room for most of the day. Somehow, doing nothing at all felt endlessly pleasant. They didn’t even notice how quickly time passed.

---

Meanwhile, over at the Yang residence, things were far less peaceful.

After being rejected by Qi Beinan, Yang Chenxu had shut himself in his room for the entire day.

Yang Xuezheng hadn’t known why at first—until he questioned the servants and learned that Chenxu had gone to see Qi Beinan off personally.

When he entered and saw his son’s reddened eyes, he grew angry. “I arranged for you to meet him properly. Qi Beinan is clever—he’d understand what I meant right away. If he felt the same, he would have returned after the exam results. But you—you couldn’t hold back. You went running to express your feelings first, and now look! He turned you down flat and made you lose face for nothing.”

Already miserable, Chenxu felt even worse being scolded. “If Father wishes to blame me, then blame me,” he said bitterly.

“When Ma Junyi courted me before, you told me to wait. Master Ma is a fourth-rank official—marrying into his family would have been an honor. But you said Ma Junyi wasn’t valued by his father, and since he was only a xiucai, you wanted to wait until after the xiangshi to decide. You told me not to be too warm nor too cold. But people aren’t fools—he saw through the calculations and stopped calling altogether.”

“Father always says marriage is a family affair, not a matter of personal feeling. Fine, I obeyed. When you said you favored Qi Beinan, I was overjoyed. Even if he doesn’t pass this time, I was still willing to marry him.”

“But you insisted on waiting until the results were out—until he officially became a juren. And by then, others would surely notice him too! The magistrate has a daughter of age, the Cheng family speaks highly of him as well. I only wanted to show him our sincerity first. What harm was there in that?”

Yang Xuezheng snapped, “The magistrate is only a seventh-rank official, and even if that Cheng scholar rises in rank, he won’t surpass me overnight! Besides, the Cheng girl is a concubine-born child—how could she compare with you? You think Qi Beinan is a fool, that he’d reject you for her?”

“But the Cheng family has only that one daughter,” Chenxu retorted, his voice tight. “The magistrate dotes on her like a pearl. Who cares about legitimacy then?”

He let out a trembling breath. “But it’s useless to argue. If I hadn’t confessed my feelings, I wouldn’t have learned that he was already engaged. Better to know now than keep hoping. He’s promised to someone else—there’s nothing left for us to choose or bargain over.”

“I’m already twenty,” Chenxu added, voice breaking. “Every time I visit friends, people whisper that I’m too old to be unwed!”

Hearing that, Yang Xuezheng’s anger ebbed. Seeing his son’s tears, his own heart softened.

He sank into a carved chair with a long sigh. “It’s your father’s fault, too.”

“Among the county scholars, I thought Qi Beinan was most suitable—a man of humble birth but fine talent, someone the family could guide and elevate. I focused too much on his background and character, not enough on investigating his prior betrothal.”

He rubbed his temples wearily. “I’ve spent years struggling for small gains. After all this time, I’m still only a sixth-rank official. I just wanted to find you a match that might lift our family higher. I went too far and delayed your marriage instead.”

Yang Chenxu wiped his eyes. His chest ached, but he also understood his father’s hardships.

The Yangs were not a hereditary official family—Yang Xuezheng was the first to earn office through the examinations. Born to a modest household, he had risen by diligence alone. Without powerful connections, advancement in a court dominated by old noble clans was nearly impossible.

Worse still, his own son had failed to distinguish himself after years of study. His current post as a county assistant magistrate had been purchased with family funds—honorable in title but without promise of promotion.

Chenxu had been bright and handsome since childhood, so it was only natural for his father to scheme for him. But knowing all this didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Father,” Chenxu said softly, “what should we do now? Qi Beinan has made himself clear, and he was courteous enough not to shame us. We can’t keep clinging to it.”

Yang Xuezheng waved a hand. “You needn’t worry about family obligations anymore. We’ve already spent much of our savings finding your elder brother a post; I won’t let you waste your youth the same way. You’re both my children—how could I favor one and wrong the other?”

“Once the autumn exam results are out,” said Yang Xuezheng, “choose someone you like from the list and settle the matter. If you keep scheming like this, you’ll soon find that even juren will be hard to come by.”

Yang Chenxu agreed faintly, feeling as though life itself was an unending bitterness.

---

The next morning, Qi Beinan went to visit Zhao Guangzong.

When he arrived, Zhao Guangzong was still eating breakfast.

“What’s this, coming so early to my place? That’s unusual.”

He asked if Qi Beinan had eaten yet. When he heard that he had, he called for someone to bring tea.

Qi Beinan placed a long rectangular box on the table. “This is for you.”

The box was painted with fine gold patterns—clearly not a common trinket.

Zhao Guangzong put down his chopsticks and hurried to open it. Inside was a full tea-making set—twelve exquisite pieces, all beautifully crafted and elegant.

His eyes lit up. “A full Twelve Gentleman set from Qingwu Workshop? Their craftsmanship is famous. Such a thing’s hard to find! So what’s this about? You show up early in the morning with such a fine gift—have you suddenly struck it rich or become a big official?”

Qi Beinan smiled. “It’s just been sitting in storage. You love making tea; better that you use it.”

Zhao Guangzong carefully closed the box. “Oh no, it’s too convenient, too timely. Why ‘better that I use it’ today of all days? Seems suspiciously well-timed. Tell me—are you asking me for a favor, or did you really make a fortune?”

“What favor could I ask of you? And I’ve made no fortune.”

“That can’t be right,” Zhao teased. He placed the box beside Qi Beinan. “With the results about to come out, I can’t take something this valuable! Suppose I miraculously make the list and become a juren, then you’ll come asking me for something—what would I do?”

Qi Beinan gave him a sideways glance. “You think far too highly of yourself.”

Zhao Guangzong grinned. “Come on, tell me what’s really going on.”

Qi Beinan replied calmly, “I came to thank you—for helping with me and Xiao Bao.”

At once Zhao Guangzong’s expression turned mischievous, his eyes glinting with curiosity. “Oh? Don’t tell me—something good happened yesterday?”

“It’s a long story,” said Qi Beinan, “but it ended well.”

He patted Zhao’s shoulder. “I’m a man who remembers both favors and debts—you’ve earned your credit.”

Zhao burst out laughing. “Good! Then I’ll accept this gift without guilt.”

Qi Beinan didn’t mention Yang Chenxu. But Zhao Guangzong had guessed most of it anyway—after all, he was the one who’d told Xiao Yuanbao to fetch Qi Beinan from the xuezheng’s office. Now, seeing Beinan arrive in person to thank him confirmed his suspicions.

They were both men of discretion; neither would turn such matters into gossip. Spreading it would only embarrass the xuezheng and invite trouble.

So instead, they spoke for a while of other things.

Zhao Guangzong told him about visiting his maternal grandfather the previous day. “Grandfather said he missed me and invited me over for a simple meal. Turns out it wasn’t a meal at all—it was a blind meeting!”

Qi Beinan raised a brow. “And? Was the girl agreeable?”

Zhao groaned. “I wasn’t prepared! It was awkward as could be.”

Qi Beinan chuckled. “You and I are the same age—you’re already twenty now. You’d best not imitate my patience. My parents arranged my affairs long ago. You, on the other hand, shouldn’t keep waiting.”

Many of their peers had already married—some even had children. Fang Youliang, for instance, was about to wed the daughter of the Tang family, who owned the tofu shop. She was their only child, and her parents had saved plenty of silver. They had even bought a small courtyard in Jiaozihu Lane as her dowry.

Another friend, Brother Fang San, had also married earlier that year, into a prosperous farming household with rich land and forests. Their life was no worse than those of city merchants.

Among all the young men from their circle, only Zhao Guangzong remained unwed.

Qi Beinan couldn’t quite understand him. Over the years, the Zhao family had arranged several matches, but none had succeeded. It wasn’t that Zhao was in love with someone else—he simply seemed uninterested in romance altogether.

Cheerful and agreeable as he was, he should have been easy to match—but he lacked that one vital spark.

“Anyone will do,” Zhao said lightly. “If someone likes me, that’s enough.”

Qi Beinan frowned. “You have to show some initiative. How is anyone supposed to know you’re interested if you act like that?”

Zhao groaned. “Ah, but I’m hopeless at such things! Better to have me write eight essays than flirt with anyone.”

Qi Beinan fell silent, half amused, half resigned. This man truly is beyond saving.

“Well,” he said at last, “matches are in Heaven’s hands.”

Then, with a teasing glint, he added, “When my child is old enough to read and write, and you’re finally arranging your marriage, perhaps our families will be joined—your son and my grandchild.”

Zhao stared at him, speechless. “…You never fail to outdo yourself.”

---

Soon, the fifth day of the ninth month arrived—the day the autumn xiangshi results were announced.

At dawn, professional messengers were already rushing to the public notice boards. Whoever saw the list first would hurry to deliver the good news to the families of the successful candidates, earning themselves a few coins of reward money.

That day, households with someone on the list were generous beyond measure.

Qi Beinan, however, remained calm. He tidied his study leisurely. The announcements would not be posted until the sihour; there was no point in going early.

His home was only a short walk—about a quarter of an hour—from the prefectural academy. If no messenger came knocking by midmorning, there would be no need for him to go see the list himself.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚