Ch 15: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

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…

Morning light gently filtered in, and Jiang Ji’s well-trained body clock woke him right on time.

He opened his eyes—and the first thing he saw was a sharply defined chin, smooth lines, a prominent Adam’s apple… a little too alluring.

A man.

Wait—why was there a man in his bed?!

Who—

Jiang Ji jolted fully awake and looked up, recognizing the face. It was Jiang Yan.

Right. He was in ancient times now.

His shoulders slumped. He turned over and lay flat on his back, dazed for a long moment.

He’d just been dreaming—dreaming of hanging out freely with his friends and brothers. Now he woke up staring at a thatched roof. The contrast was… jarring.

Letting out a long sigh, Jiang Ji rubbed his face and opened his system livestream.

Manually starting it every morning was inconvenient. If he ever forgot, it’d cost him points—and viewership directly affected his score. Better to start early and earn early.

He adjusted the settings: it would now start automatically when he opened his eyes, and end one minute after he closed them. He could even pause it himself now. Much less awkward.

After finishing the setup, he sat up and began dressing.

“You’re getting up already?”

The voice came from behind him—Jiang Yan’s. Jiang Ji turned to see him half-awake, eyes hazy. He lowered his voice. “Yeah. It’s still early. You can sleep a bit more.”

Jiang Yan did plan to go back to sleep. He’d fallen asleep late last night, and Jiang Ji’s sudden awakening had startled him awake too.

After a pause, Jiang Yan asked, “Did you have a nightmare just now?”

“Not a nightmare—a beautiful dream,” Jiang Ji sighed. “Waking up was the nightmare.”

Jiang Yan looked puzzled. How could someone wake up from a good dream and sigh about it?

But since Jiang Ji didn’t explain, he let it go.

Jiang Ji got dressed, got off the bed, and went to check on Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei. As expected, the two little monkeys were sprawled sideways again. He straightened them out, pulled up their blankets, and quietly shut the door behind him.

In the kitchen, Zhao Ru was already up preparing breakfast.

“You’re up,” she said. “Wait till the water’s hot before washing your face.” She had rinsed the rice and set a small pot of porridge on the stove, with another big pot heating water beside it.

“Alright, I’ll fetch some water first.” Jiang Ji picked up the carrying pole and two wooden buckets and headed to the village well.

It was just dawn outside, the village still quiet except for a few crowing roosters and barking dogs. From some chimneys, faint wisps of smoke had begun to rise.

The air was chilly. Jiang Ji steadied one bucket’s rope with one hand while tucking the other into his sleeve for warmth.

If it were in his past life, he would never have believed he’d wake this early on purpose. Back then, he wouldn’t even think of sleeping before 1 or 2 a.m.—sometimes pulling all-nighters was just normal in college.

But now, at sunrise, he felt completely alert and refreshed—not sleepy at all.

There was only one well in the whole village, located near the center. Over eighty households depended on it for their daily water. Since most people went to the fields later in the morning, they usually fetched water either early or around noon.

That meant there was always a line.

As Jiang Ji walked toward the well, he greeted a few early risers also carrying buckets. They exchanged brief morning chatter as they queued up.

When he arrived, four people were already in line. He joined them with his buckets.

Seeing him, someone called out, “Hey, Jiang Ji, heard that man you rescued finally woke up?”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Yeah, he woke up yesterday.”

The village head happened to be there fetching water too. “Where’s he from?” he asked. “And how’d he get injured?”

In this era, any stranger arriving in a village—especially one with knife wounds—was bound to draw attention. The headman had to ask; no one wanted trouble brought to their doorstep.

Everyone had been curious these past few days, whispering all sorts of guesses. Jiang Ji knew that well. After a moment of thought, he replied, “He lost his memory. Doesn’t remember his name or where he’s from.”

“He lost his memory?”
“For real?”

Everyone turned to Jiang Ji in disbelief.

Jiang Ji nodded seriously. “Really. So he doesn’t even know how he got injured. I think he must’ve run into bandits. He looks like a young master from some wealthy family in town—someone must’ve seen him as an easy target and tried to rob him.”

With that, Jiang Ji provided an explanation for Jiang Yan’s injuries, steering everyone’s thoughts in that direction.

“Yeah, makes sense. Bandit attacks aren’t rare these days.”

“I heard just before New Year, a man from town got robbed on his way to his wife’s family. It was only in the next town over—they took all his money, nearly killed him too.”

“Seriously? Where’d that happen?”

“They say it was near Daling Mountain.”

“Oh no, that’s close to Skull Mountain! That’s where the bandits hide out. Who’d dare pass through there?”

“People get robbed there all the time. The officials can’t clear out that den—the bandits just come back after every raid. Sigh.”

“Exactly. It’s terrible.”

The group chatted animatedly. Jiang Ji listened, then asked, “Uncle Dafu, that man who got robbed on his way to his wife’s family—how old was he?”

Someone caught on. “Wait, could that be the guy you saved?”

Uncle Dafu shook his head. “No, no. That fella survived and reported it to the county. I heard he’s in his thirties. How old’s the one you rescued?”

In his thirties—and he went to report it? Then definitely not Jiang Yan. Jiang Ji felt relieved. “He’s probably in his twenties. Definitely not older than twenty-seven.”

“Then it’s not the same one.”

Someone else chimed in, “Hey, if you say he was robbed, how come I heard he gave your family silver? And didn’t he have a jade pendant too?”

Jiang Ji blinked, making up a story smoothly. “The robbers took all his silver. My mom found two silver notes sewn into his sock when she washed his clothes—small ones, total about sixty taels. Probably his family hid them there in case he was robbed. The jade pendant fell out from a hidden pocket in his torn clothing. I think when he noticed the bandits coming, he stuffed it in there to protect it.”

“I see.”

“Lucky man, to survive that.”

Jiang Ji nodded in agreement. “Yeah.”

The village head then asked, “Jiang Ji, did he have any special marks or features? Maybe we should report it to the authorities. They might help him find his family.”

“I’ll ask him later,” Jiang Ji replied. “He really can’t remember anything, so we’ve got no clues to offer.”

“If even he doesn’t know, that’ll be hard to trace.”

“His family must be worried sick.”

Seeing everyone nod along, Jiang Ji relaxed inside. No one suspected he was being hunted—everyone had bought the robbery story.

Since gossip was inevitable, the best way to control it was to create a version himself.

By tomorrow, he was sure the whole village would be saying the stranger Jiang Ji rescued had been attacked by bandits and lost his memory.

After fetching water, Jiang Ji went home and told Zhao Ru everything that had happened by the well so they could keep their story consistent.

He was just about to go for a second trip when 2977’s electronic voice chimed in.

[Total viewers have reached one million. Second batch of vegetables, fruits, and daily goods unlocked. Host awarded: Basic Farm Tool Modification Skill. Tipping item unlocked: Seeds. Host may now select crop seeds as viewer rewards.]

Huh?

Jiang Ji immediately stopped in his tracks and went back into the kitchen.

Since the second batch of goods was available, why not let his family try something new?

He exchanged for six sweet potatoes and six ears of corn. “Mom, we’re having something different for breakfast today.”

Zhao Ru looked at the strange items on the table, puzzled. “What are these?”

“This one’s called hongshu (sweet potato), and this one’s yumi (corn). They’re both edible.”

Zhao Ru’s eyes widened in amazement. “You can eat them?”

“Yep. The immortals brought them from another land,” Jiang Ji said, invoking the “immortal” explanation—which always worked.

Zhao Ru brightened immediately. “How do you cook them?”

“The sweet potatoes just need washing to remove dirt. The corn—you peel off the husk and silk, then steam both till they’re soft.”

“How long does that take?”

“Uh, maybe about two quarters of an hour?” Jiang Ji guessed. He’d never actually cooked them himself. “You can test if they’re done by poking the sweet potato with chopsticks. If it slides in easily, it’s ready.”

“Got it.”

Zhao Ru deftly started peeling husks while Jiang Ji headed back out to fetch more water.

By the time he returned with the water barrels filled, the others were waking up. Jiang Yan also stepped out of his room, wearing a clean blue robe Jiang Ji had lent him. The plain cloth looked refined on him, his tall figure straight and elegant—like a scholar.

“You’re up already? Careful not to strain your wound.”

Jiang Yan nodded. “Where’s the latrine?”

“You’re actually going?”

“Please, show me the way.”

“I’ll take you.” Jiang Ji walked beside him. “Need me to help you?”

“No need.” Jiang Yan pressed a hand to his abdomen to protect the wound, moving slowly.

Jiang Ji glanced at him—his expression gave nothing away. “Does it still hurt?”

“Much better now.”

Jiang Ji led him out of the courtyard and around to the outhouse on the right. “Careful. So—number one or number two?”

Jiang Yan paused slightly. “Number two.”

“Number two and you didn’t bring paper? Hold on, I’ll get some.”

Jiang Ji ran back inside, opened a drawer in the main room, and grabbed a handful of paper before returning to hand it over. “Here. I’ll wait outside.”

After a while, Jiang Yan came out, frowning slightly.

Even from a distance, Jiang Ji could see the deep furrow between Jiang Yan’s brows—tight enough to crush a fly. He’d taken knife wounds without so much as flinching, yet now his face was all but twisted up.

Jiang Ji nearly burst out laughing. When Jiang Yan came closer, he asked, “Need a chamber pot?”

“No.” Jiang Yan’s tone was clipped.

“Alright then.” Jiang Ji remembered what he’d heard that morning. “Oh right—about that bandit hideout. It’s called Skull Mountain.”

He told Jiang Yan everything he’d learned and went over the cover story with him so they were consistent.

Jiang Yan nodded, then asked, “Has the government not tried to wipe out those bandits?”

“I heard the local officials can’t do anything about them. The county office is useless—they just hide whenever soldiers show up, then come right back once they’re gone. Unless the imperial army gets involved, no one can get rid of them for good.”

“You think I was injured by them?”

“Not necessarily.”

They chatted a bit longer, then went home. After washing their hands, Jiang Yan took out his toothbrush and cloth towel to wash up as well.

Jiang Ji fetched him water. “I could’ve brought some to your room, you know.”

“No need. I can move around now.”

Jiang Ji let him be.

At breakfast, Jiang Yan didn’t return to his room but joined everyone instead. “I owe you and your family much, Auntie,” he said politely to Zhao Ru. “I can move about now, so I’d like to eat with you all.”

“No need for formalities. Feeling better?” Zhao Ru asked with a smile.

“Much better. Thank you, Auntie.”

“The wound will heal in time. Don’t rush it,” she said kindly.

“Yes.”

Breakfast began. Zhao Ru brought out the steamed sweet potatoes and corn, while Jiang Xia ladled out bowls of wild-greens and lean-meat porridge.

“Jiang Yan, take the taller stool,” Jiang Ji said, pulling over the sturdiest one. “Careful now.”

“Alright.” Jiang Yan sat down.

The family gathered around the table. Everyone eyed the unfamiliar sweet potatoes and corn curiously—the faintly sweet aroma was something they’d never smelled before.

“Big Brother, what’s this? It smells kind of sweet,” Jiang Nan asked. He knew it had to be something magical his brother “summoned,” but he’d never seen it before.

Jiang Bei and Jiang Xia also turned toward Jiang Ji, eager for an answer.

“The red one’s called hongshu—sweet potato. The yellow one’s yumi—corn,” Jiang Ji explained. He broke one in half to show them how to eat it. “You can eat the skin too, but it doesn’t taste great. Just peel it like this and eat the inside. As for the corn, you just bite the kernels off—don’t chew the cob. Try it, see what you think.”

The sweet potatoes and corn had been cooling for a bit—perfect to eat now. Everyone picked one and began to taste.

Jiang Nan was the quickest; he’d grabbed a cob of corn, took one bite—and his eyes lit up. “It’s sweet!”

Jiang Bei had chosen a sweet potato. He peeled it and took a bite—soft, fragrant, and sticky-sweet. It melted the moment it touched his tongue.

“This one’s sweet too—so good!” He turned to share with his brother. “Jiang Nan, try this one—it’s amazing!”

“This one’s better.” Jiang Nan held out his corn to Jiang Bei’s mouth. “Taste it.”

Jiang Bei swallowed his bite of sweet potato and bit into the corn. “That’s good too, but not as good as the sweet potato. Here—take mine.”

Jiang Nan bit into the sweet potato Jiang Bei offered, and his eyes went wide again. “Why’s this so delicious?!”

Everyone else laughed at the two little boys.

Zhao Ru tried one herself. Sweet, soft, and comforting—she loved it instantly. “Xiao Ji, can we plant these?”

“We can,” Jiang Ji nodded. “I just wanted you to try them first. There’s another one called the tudou—potato. These three crops fill you up easily, store well through winter, and are simple to grow. Potatoes can even be planted in cold weather. I plan to have the whole village grow them.”

Zhao Ru’s eyes brightened. “They can be stored for winter? That’s wonderful.”

Three new crops—edible, storable, reliable. That meant people could finally eat through the cold months without starving.

As they ate, the family chattered about the flavor and how they might plant them. Jiang Yan stayed quiet, just observing.

Something puzzled him: Jiang Nan, Jiang Bei, and even Zhao Ru clearly had never seen these foods before—so why wasn’t anyone asking Jiang Ji where they came from?

Was he the only one curious?

Or… had he forgotten something because of his memory loss?

That thought unsettled him.

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