Ch 9: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

Jiang Ji quickly opened the system and checked. The first batch of daily necessities available in this world could now be exchanged.

He searched for beds.

There were all kinds of styles from the current era—simple wooden ones for 200 points each, and the most expensive, an ornate rosewood carved bed, costing a full 100,000 points.

With every 10,000 total viewers equaling 100 points, and since Jiang Ji had only spent a dozen or so points before, he easily had enough to redeem two beds and new bedding.

He thought about it for a moment but decided not to tell his family yet. He’d wait until after they treated the injured man, then pretend it was a “reward from the immortal.”

Having made up his mind, Jiang Ji said, “Mother, let’s get ready to stitch that man’s wounds.”

“Alright.”

【I can’t believe they actually bought it】
【Well, it is ancient times, and he can make things appear—of course they’d believe him】
【The streamer’s really good at bluffing】
【You’re all immortals now, what’s there to complain about?】
【This fairy approves】
【This immortal lady finds it acceptable】

Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru washed their hands thoroughly with soap pod water, carried in the small dining table, and brought a basin of hot water into the room. Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei stayed outside to stand guard.

Jiang Ji claimed his medical supplies from the system. A large medical kit instantly appeared on the table—inside were various medicines, ointments, povidone-iodine, cotton swabs, alcohol-free sanitizer, tweezers, scalpels, suturing needles, and surgical thread—everything they would need.

Zhao Ru stared at the unfamiliar tools, full of wonder. These must all be things from the immortal’s realm.

The doctor on the stream explained the wound treatment steps, and Jiang Ji repeated them to Zhao Ru.

“Doctor, do I need to use anesthesia?” he asked. So many wounds—stitching would surely hurt.

【He’s unconscious. Don’t use it; it could cause complications if you don’t handle it properly.】

“Oh, alright.” Jiang Ji turned to Zhao Ru. “Mother, follow my lead.”

“Okay.”

After understanding the steps, Jiang Ji used the sanitizer to scrub his hands and put on the medical gloves, with Zhao Ru copying him.

Following the doctor’s instructions, Jiang Ji first measured the man’s temperature—39.8°C. Then he began cleaning the wounds, debriding, disinfecting—he did all this while Zhao Ru assisted beside him.

Jiang Ji had never done anything like this before. When removing necrotic tissue, he had to cut away the infected flesh with a scalpel. His hand trembled with nerves, and he accidentally sliced a bit too much.

Jiang Ji: …

【It’s fine—you’re doing really well.】

The doctor encouraged him, and after a while, Jiang Ji calmed down and grew more confident. He managed to clean out all the festering wounds successfully.

“Mother, you do the stitching. I don’t know how to sew. If you stitch up the wounds, they’ll heal faster.”

“Me?” Zhao Ru’s hands trembled slightly.

Jiang Ji encouraged her. “Don’t be afraid, Mother. You can do it.”

“…Alright.” Zhao Ru took a deep breath and picked up the suturing needle and thread.

As Jiang Ji relayed the doctor’s step-by-step instructions, Zhao Ru—unaccustomed to using the forceps—simply gripped the needle herself and began stitching by hand.

She was skilled at sewing, but the curved suturing needle was different from what she was used to. At first, her movements were clumsy, but soon she grew more practiced—the stitches came out clean and even.

Suturing, disinfecting, applying ointment, bandaging—by the time mother and son finished treating all of the man’s wounds, more than an hour had passed, and the sky was already darkening.

Jiang Ji gave the man a tetanus shot and fed him some medicine before they were finally done.

After cleaning up, both of them let out a long sigh of relief.

“Will he live now?” Zhao Ru asked.

“At least he’s better than before,” Jiang Ji said uncertainly. “If he doesn’t get better after this, then there’s really nothing more we can do.”

Because of all the washing, the straw mattress and sheets were damp. Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru replaced them with fresh straw and clean bedding. They also set up the borrowed doorboard beside the bed as a makeshift cot for Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei.

A little while later, Jiang Ji pulled Zhao Ru aside and whispered, “Mother, the immortal just rewarded us for helping save that man—he sent us two beds and quilts. We’ve got beds now.”

Zhao Ru’s eyes widened with excitement. “Beds and quilts?” Of course—it was just like an immortal to know exactly what they needed most.

“Mm.” Jiang Ji nodded, then added after thinking, “But tonight, let Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei sleep on the doorboard. I’ll go out tomorrow, bring the beds and quilts back with the cart, and get another sack of rice and some vegetables too. If anyone asks, just say the man we rescued woke up and gave us silver to buy them.”

Zhao Ru immediately understood. Their family was poor—they couldn’t possibly afford two new beds. If anyone saw, it would raise suspicion. The matter of the immortal’s treasure had to stay secret, so there had to be a believable explanation.

“I understand,” she said quickly. “I won’t tell the boys either.”

“Good.” Seeing how quickly Zhao Ru caught on, Jiang Ji was pleased.

“Oh, right,” Zhao Ru remembered. “When I washed his clothes this morning, I found four banknotes in his sleeve pocket. I kept them safe for now—I’ll show you.”

She went to the room and brought them out. Zhao Ru couldn’t read, so she didn’t know their value.

Jiang Ji looked them over—one was for 1,000 taels, two were for 100, and one for 50.

“When he wakes up, we’ll give them back to him,” Jiang Ji said. “We still owe the doctor from yesterday anyway, so he should know.” He didn’t mention how much they were worth and handed the notes back. “You keep them for now, Mother.”

“Alright.”

With the rice supply now secure, Zhao Ru finally felt willing to cook real rice instead of porridge. That evening, the family once again enjoyed rice and meat.

“It’s so good to have rice again,” Jiang Nan said happily after finishing his bowl, completely content.

The others felt the same.

Watching her children eat with bright faces, Zhao Ru finally let out a deep breath of relief.

Before bed, Jiang Ji checked the man’s temperature again—it had dropped a bit, down to 39°C.

The fever was going down. That meant he was improving, and everyone felt a little lighter.

After giving him his medicine, Jiang Ji went to bed himself.

He’d barely slept the night before, worried about the patient. Now that things had calmed down, exhaustion hit him all at once. He fell asleep deeply, not even dreaming, until dawn broke.

Yawning, Jiang Ji sat up and turned to look at the man beside him. He reached out to touch his forehead to check the temperature—but just as his hand brushed the man’s skin, a powerful grip clamped down on his wrist.

Jiang Ji: ?

A pair of sharp, wary eyes stared into his, filled with danger and feral alertness, as if to say, Move, and I’ll kill you.

The grip was iron-strong. Jiang Ji winced—the man’s hand locked so tightly around his wrist he couldn’t move.

For a moment Jiang Ji froze—then realized the man’s eyes were open. Delighted, he exclaimed, “Buddy, you’re finally awake?”

The man kept staring, his gaze still cold and watchful, like a predator poised to strike.

“Easy, easy. I’m not going to hurt you,” Jiang Ji said quickly. “You were injured—stab wounds, multiple. You passed out in the woods near the village. I brought you back. Do you remember anything?”

Seeing that Jiang Ji didn’t seem dangerous, the man slowly loosened his grip, scanning the surroundings before trying to sit up.

“Hey, hey—don’t move,” Jiang Ji said, holding him down gently. “I told you, you’re hurt. Stay still, or you’ll reopen your wounds.”

The man frowned slightly as pain shot through him. He lifted his shirt and saw his torso wrapped in bandages.

He looked up at Jiang Ji. “You… saved me?”

His voice was rough, dry from thirst.

“Yeah. Your wounds were infected, festering—you almost didn’t make it,” Jiang Ji said while pulling on his coat.

Despite his injuries, the man made no sound of pain—his brows only furrowed faintly.

He’s got a high tolerance, Jiang Ji thought.

“Thank you,” the man said, glancing around. “Where is this place?”

“My home, of course,” Jiang Ji replied, fastening his coat.

Jiang Bei woke up at that moment, hearing voices. He sat up and asked, “Brother, is he awake?”

“Yeah, he’s awake.”

“Great! That means we get rice for the next three months!”

Jiang Bei still remembered his brother’s promise that if they saved the man, the immortal would reward them with three months’ worth of rice. Excited, he scrambled out of bed to look.

“Put on your clothes first,” Jiang Ji reminded him. “You’ll catch cold.”

“Oh.” Jiang Bei obediently began dressing.

Hearing the child’s voice, the man tilted his head back and saw another bed above, where two boys were stirring.

“They’re my younger brothers,” Jiang Ji said. “Twins—Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei. I’m Jiang Ji—‘Ji’ as in ‘lonely.’” He scooted toward the edge of the bed to pull on his pants, then glanced back at the man. “So, brother—what’s your name? How’d you get so badly hurt?”

“I…” The man’s eyes went blank. His head suddenly throbbed sharply, pain twisting through it like knives. He raised a hand to press it.

“Hey, don’t touch it—you’ve got a head wound too,” Jiang Ji said, quickly pulling his hand away. “Does it hurt?”

The man opened his eyes and nodded.

“You must’ve hit your head somewhere—it’s injured too. Probably a mild concussion. I already applied medicine; you’ll get better soon, don’t worry,” Jiang Ji said, then asked, “Oh right, you still haven’t told me—what’s your name?”

The man froze for a moment, then after thinking for a while, said in confusion, “I don’t know.”

Jiang Ji was stunned. “You don’t know?”

“I don’t.”

Jiang Ji blinked. Could it be… amnesia?

“Then do you remember how you got hurt? Where your home is? How you ended up here?”

The man again shook his head.

A head injury could definitely cause memory loss. Jiang Ji studied his face carefully—the man’s eyes were steady but vacant, filled with confusion. It didn’t look like he was pretending.

Jiang Ji calmly concluded, “Brother, I hate to break it to you, but you’ve probably lost your memory.”

The man frowned, straining to pull something—anything—from his mind, but nothing came.

Seeing that expression, Jiang Ji patted his shoulder and said reassuringly, “It’s fine. This kind of thing is usually temporary. You might remember everything again before you know it. For now, just stay here. In your condition, you can’t go anywhere anyway. Focus on healing first.”

The man looked at him quietly and murmured, “Thank you.”

Thandar: 😢 I noticed there’s always some haters who give 1-2 stars on NU as soon as we upload a new yaoi novel 😤 like instantly. If they don’t like yaoi, just ignore it come on.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾