Ch 78: Reborn to Raise My Husband

The next day, Qi Beinan spent a string of copper coins to summon Bai Shitong and asked him to investigate Escort Master Qin’s background.

Bai Shitong relayed everything he knew.

Escort Master Qin had worked for the city’s escort agency for many years and was known as one of its most reliable guards. Anyone in town who often hired escorts would know his name. Because Qin handled business so steadily, he was in high demand—sometimes people even had to offer extra silver to secure his service.

Qi Beinan had no doubt about Qin’s skill or reputation as an escort. He next asked about the man’s personal conduct and family situation.

Bai Shitong told him that Qin was upright and had never been known to stir up trouble. Aside from his lawful husband, he had no other romantic attachments and showed no interest in courtesans.

Unlike many escorts, who were hot-tempered and often got into fights—or who, being bold and lively by nature, indulged in heavy drinking and brothel visits—Escort Master Qin was calm and proper.

As for his family, things were simple. None of his relatives had ever been accused of wrongdoing, theft, or deceit. His parents farmed in their home village, and his brothers ran modest, honest businesses.

Hearing all this, Qi Beinan felt considerably reassured.

He had always disliked men with unrestrained morals who spent their time chasing women or stirring up trouble over them. Such men were not only dissolute but also prone to scandal.

If Escort Master Qin had been that sort, and one day caused an incident that brought legal trouble, Qi Beinan would inevitably be dragged into it through Qin Jiang. Better to know everything about a household in advance and prevent unnecessary complications.

“And what of his son, Qin Jiang?” Qi Beinan asked.

“He’s been accompanying his father on escort missions from a young age,” Bai Shitong replied. “Quick with his hands and feet, lively in spirit, and I’ve never heard of him being in any sort of trouble.”

Qi Beinan nodded in understanding, then instructed Bai Shitong to keep an eye out and see if the Qin family had had any recent incidents or disputes.

Bai Shitong agreed and left. As he departed, Xiao Yuanbao handed him a small bundle of osmanthus rice cakes.

“Brother, you’re always so cautious,” Xiao Yuanbao said, a little awed. “You’ve already heard so much good about Escort Master Qin and his family, yet you still ask Bai Shitong to keep watch.”

Qi Beinan replied, “Now that my station isn’t what it once was, I can’t afford carelessness in employing people. A single misstep can ruin a man.”

“Even if misfortune can’t always be avoided, by taking precautions and being thorough, one can at least prevent some of it.”

Xiao Yuanbao nodded. It was true—everyone understood such reasoning, but most people were too lazy to act on it, preferring convenience over caution, only to bring themselves greater trouble later.

Two days later, Xiao Yuanbao and Qi Beinan went together to Liuyue Street to inspect their newly granted three shops.

The three storefronts were not far apart, all in the middle section of the market street—a good location.

But once they stepped inside, it was another story. The interiors were small, roughly the same size as the shops they owned in Yunping Alley of Lin Prefecture, except those were new while these were clearly old.

The moment the locks were opened, a musty, dusty smell rushed out, making Xiao Yuanbao sneeze twice at the doorway.

The shops were a mess—tables, benches, and display shelves piled in heaps.

There was visible damage everywhere: chipped windows and doors, cracked floor tiles.

Qi Beinan had heard that the county had confiscated these shops from a merchant who had committed a crime. Whatever state the place had been left in when the man was taken away, that was exactly how it still stood now.

Though the county office had granted the properties to Qi Beinan, they hadn’t bothered to have them cleaned or repaired. The county officials, after all, weren’t known for attention to detail.

“We’ll need craftsmen to repair these properly,” Qi Beinan said. “Whether we keep them for business or rent them out, they can’t stay like this.”

“If rented out as-is, no matter how good the location, tenants will drive the price down hard.”

“It’ll cost at least ten guan to refurbish all three,” Xiao Yuanbao calculated quickly. He’d already investigated the market: on Liuyue Street, small shops like these rented for about two guan per month each, and if sold outright, they could fetch over eighty guan apiece.

“If we rent them out, the investment will pay itself back soon enough.”

Qi Beinan nodded. “Let’s have the craftsmen repair them first, then decide what to do.”

Seeing how the county’s shops looked, he couldn’t help but wonder what shape his property in Lin Prefecture might be in.

He didn’t hold much hope for it, nor did he have time to go see for himself.

Once the New Year came, he planned to send Tienan to Lin Prefecture to put the house in order and settle there, managing both it and the dozen shops they owned in Yunping Alley.

Covered in dust, the two of them strolled along the bustling street to shake off the smell.

The late-September weather was crisp and bright, and the market teemed with life. Many well-dressed townsfolk were out enjoying themselves, some wearing clothes made of Wanyue gauze.

That fabric was exquisite—unmatched under the moonlight, yet still captivating under the daylight sun.

During the Mid-Autumn festival just past, those wearing Wanyue gauze had shone brilliantly, and prices at the Ming family’s cloth shop had risen visibly again.

It seemed Ming Da still had quite the business acumen—half a year had gone by, yet he alone continued to control the supply of Wanyue gauze.

These days, thanks to that silk business, who knew how many hundreds of gold taels Ming Da had earned? The other cloth merchants in town could only look on with envy, red-eyed and helpless—forced to swallow their pride and go begging him for a share of the trade routes.

Qi Beinan spoke idly to Xiao Yuanbao about it for a while, but received no reply.

He turned to look at him, only to see the young man staring straight ahead in a daze.

Following his gaze, Qi Beinan saw a cloth shop ahead with a sign that read “Xiangyun Pavilion.”

“Were you thinking of buying fabric?” he asked.

But Xiao Yuanbao said, “Brother, look at the clerk inside greeting the customers.”

Qi Beinan looked again and indeed saw, in the center of the shop hall, a young clerk.

He wore a pale jade inner robe beneath a neatly tailored yellow-green cross-collared coat, a wide belt cinched around his straight waist.

His face was as smooth and fair as polished jade, with a faint smile on his lips and bright peach-blossom eyes—charming enough to make hearts flutter.

Four or five young ladies and lads stood around him, listening as he introduced the bolts of cloth draped over his arm.

In less than half a cup of tea’s time, each customer leaving the shop carried no fewer than two bolts of fabric.

Qi Beinan frowned.

He lowered his gaze to Xiao Yuanbao. “That one dresses flashier than most women—hardly the mark of a steady man.”

“Whether steady or not,” Xiao Yuanbao said, “he’s certainly handsome.”

He grinned. “Doesn’t he look just like the ‘jade-faced young gentleman’ they always describe in books?”

Qi Beinan was silent for a moment, then said flatly, “From this far, what can you really see? Why don’t we go take a closer look at your jade-faced young gentleman?”

“That would be too forward!” Xiao Yuanbao could hardly believe his ears—Qi Beinan, saying something like that?

He turned back to find his companion wearing a rather dark expression, and finally understood.

“I wasn’t—”

Xiao Yuanbao chuckled and hurried to explain, “I wasn’t staring on purpose. That shop belongs to the Mu family. Since Brother Xin took over the Wanyue gauze trade, the Mu family’s business has gone quiet.”

“They say the young master who handles their external trade has been called back by the Mu patriarch, and now he’s running Xiangyun Pavilion. Since his return, business here has flourished again.”

“And what has that to do with you staring at him?” Qi Beinan asked.

Xiao Yuanbao smiled. “Good looks—whether on men, women, or lads—always make people happy. I just hadn’t realized before that looks could be so useful in trade. I’ll remember this—if I ever run a business myself, I’ll hire a few handsome clerks. That ought to draw customers in.”

“Don’t judge people by their looks,” Qi Beinan said. “You’ve always had an eye for pretty faces. I lectured you on this before—you said you’d remember. Seems to me you didn’t remember a thing.”

Xiao Yuanbao blinked innocently. “Did I?”

“Your memory’s getting worse,” Qi Beinan said dryly. “When we get home, I’ll have Madam Liu stew some pig’s brain for you to eat.”

He added smoothly, “And buy some fresh red phoenix greens to fry with pig liver—keep your eyes sharp for spotting pretty-faced clerks in the market.”

Hearing the sharp edge in his words, Xiao Yuanbao thought wryly that Qi Beinan’s sarcasm was truly a fine-tuned weapon.

“All right, all right,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

Then, after a pause, he leaned closer on tiptoe and whispered quickly in Qi Beinan’s ear, “But if we’re talking about looks, Brother An is already quite rare.”

Qi Beinan was not a man who cared for flattery or appearance, but hearing Xiao Yuanbao say it so softly made the corners of his mouth curl despite himself, a ripple of warmth stirring in his chest.

He caught Xiao Yuanbao’s hand as he tried to pull away. “So then,” he said, smiling, “is it that jade-faced clerk who’s rare—or me?”

“Of course it’s you, Brother,” Xiao Yuanbao replied at once. “How could anyone on the street compare to you?”

“Best not to butter me up,” Qi Beinan said.

Xiao Yuanbao thought privately that if he didn’t, someone might sulk all the way through dinner again.

Once, he’d thought Qi Beinan the very picture of calm maturity—but lately, it seemed the older he grew, the more childlike he became.

Perhaps some people simply grew in reverse: while most grew steadier with age, others, already too steady in youth, eventually began to show the liveliness they’d missed before.

Qi Beinan was such a man.

Not long ago, when Tienan had finished keeping the household accounts, Xiao Yuanbao had praised him for his neat handwriting and clear bookkeeping, saying he’d surely manage the Lin Prefecture estate well after the New Year.

Qi Beinan had then asked, “Why do you only praise Tienan’s writing and his bookkeeping, and not the teaching that made him so capable?”

Xiao Yuanbao had thought he was joking and teased him lightly—only for Qi Beinan to retreat to his study for half a day, buried in books, refusing tea and skipping supper.

Everyone could tell he was sulking, yet Xiao Yuanbao couldn’t figure out why.

After thinking long and hard, he could only suspect this was the reason—but even then, he found it hard to believe a man like Qi Beinan could be so petulant over something so small.

In the end, he brought a plate of pastries to the study, lavished him with praise for his elegant handwriting, and added, “Truly, it’s all thanks to the fine teaching. No wonder Tienan’s improved so much.”

To his surprise, those few words of praise had truly lifted Qi Beinan’s mood.

The man who’d refused dinner earlier now ate a late-night snack with good appetite.

Xiao Yuanbao could only shake his head—people were indeed complicated creatures.

The two walked home together and, as they turned into the alley, saw a middle-aged man wearing a brocade square cap sighing as he left their gate.

Judging by his dress, he was a merchant.

Qi Beinan took Xiao Yuanbao’s hand and gently pulled him aside into a narrow lane, waiting until the merchant turned the corner and climbed into a sedan chair before coming back out.

If they’d met head-on, they’d never have escaped a round of unwanted conversation.

“These past few days,” Xiao Yuanbao said, “it feels like more and more people are trying to see you. We get several groups a day, and the calling cards are stacking up in piles.”

“Ever since Escort Master Qin came into the house for tea,” Qi Beinan said lightly, “the merchants have thought the door is open. They saw someone allowed in and took it as a sign, so now they’re all squeezing to get through.”

Xiao Yuanbao shook his head. “Merchants live comfortably enough—yet even after being turned away so many times, they still swallow their pride and come back to ask. That’s something I didn’t expect.”

Qi Beinan said softly, “Farmers break their backs to make their crops grow—fertilizing, weeding, loosening soil, watering—just for a few more measures of grain. Merchants do the same for a few more percent of profit and steady business. Of course they’ll bend and twist and exhaust every method they can.”

“My foolish boy, anyone who wants a good life in this world must manage it with care. If success can be bought by setting aside pride, that’s not such a hard price to pay.”

Xiao Yuanbao nodded, suddenly feeling a kind of respect for those who fought so persistently for a better living.

As soon as they stepped back into the house, Zhao Wuge reported that during their short absence, three more groups had come requesting to see the Jieyuan.

Some had tried to force gifts on the servants, but Zhao Wuge had turned them all away.

When they couldn’t give gifts, they left calling cards and letters instead.

Sitting in the study, Xiao Yuanbao opened them with Qi Beinan’s permission.

The merchants, unable to see Qi Beinan or offer gifts, poured their hopes into these letters—pleading for a chance to visit for tea.

One letter, from a tea merchant, caught his eye. The man wrote that if Qi Beinan would take him under his patronage, he was willing to offer as tribute eighty percent of the commercial tax that should have gone to the court.

In addition, he promised to sign over two profitable teahouses to Qi Beinan’s name—each earning eighty guan a year.

Xiao Yuanbao whistled softly. “That’s far too generous. Just reading this makes my heart stir. If they were allowed inside to speak face to face, with that silver tongue merchants are known for, who could resist them? No wonder you refuse to receive visitors.”

“With terms this lavish,” he went on, “they’d be exempt from taxes once they came under our name—yet they’d still pay only a tenth of what they used to give to the government, and even hand over two shops on top of that. How could that possibly be profitable for them?”

Qi Beinan sipped his tea. “Do you know how much the merchant tax truly is?”

“Four parts in ten,” Xiao Yuanbao said. “Isn’t that what the laws say? And the clever ones can always find ways to evade some.”

Qi Beinan replied calmly, “That forty percent is only what’s on the record. Merchants may cheat some of it, but the officials aren’t fools either. Beyond the listed taxes, there are endless unofficial levies and fees. Every few months, tax inspectors show up again and again, demanding new payments under new excuses.”

“For merchants without any political backing, there’s no protection. One day, inspectors claim they must pay customs tax for imported goods; the next, they come saying it’s fire season, and the shops must pay an extra ‘fire patrol fee’ for the officials’ inspections. When you add it all up, by year’s end, many merchants are worse off than farmers.”

“Yet no matter how often those collectors come, the merchants don’t dare refuse. If they resist, the officials find a pretext to confiscate their property—and once business is shut down, that’s the end of their livelihood. With the state constantly hungry for revenue, what choice do merchants have but to grit their teeth and keep going?”

“But if they can attach themselves to someone with official standing,” Qi Beinan continued, “then they have protection. Those petty tax inspectors—many of their collections aren’t backed by any real decree. They wouldn’t dare challenge a merchant with an official patron. As the saying goes, ‘You look at the owner before you beat the dog.’ Crude, but true.”

Xiao Yuanbao took a quiet breath. Coming from a farming family, he’d rarely dealt with merchants before.

Even when he had, such people never spoke of these things; he only saw their fine clothes, their carriages, their generosity, and assumed they lived comfortably.

But now he understood how hard their lives really were.

It also explained why, despite being turned away repeatedly, they still came knocking so earnestly.

His brother wasn’t just a provincial graduate now—he was the Jieyuan, the top scholar of the provincial exam. His chances of passing the metropolitan exam were high; once he became a jinshi, official appointment was assured—and not just a minor one. Anyone could see he had a brilliant future.

How could merchants not want to cling to such a tree?

“Let’s see the next one,” Qi Beinan said.

Having some leisure and seeing that Xiao Yuanbao lacked such worldly understanding, he didn’t mind using this as a lesson—to help him see through such temptations and never be swayed by petty gain.

Xiao Yuanbao then picked up a letter sealed with gold embossing and broke it open.

This one was from a salt merchant.

Inside, the letter said he was willing to dedicate all the taxes he owed the imperial court to Qi Beinan instead, and further offer two chests of gold and silver, a three-entry courtyard house, and a well-trained Yangzhou thin horse.

His offer was even more extravagant than the tea merchant’s.

Xiao Yuanbao frowned slightly. “What is a Yangzhou thin horse?”

Qi Beinan’s brows had already tightened when he’d heard Xiao Yuanbao reading the letter, and now, faced with the direct question, he hesitated for a moment.

“It’s… a kind of gift.”

“What kind of gift needs to be trained?”

Qi Beinan was silent. He couldn’t very well say it was literally a horse from Yangzhou.

There was no point in hiding it, so he spoke frankly. “They call it that as a euphemism. It means those boys or girls from poor families who happen to be good-looking—people with money buy them young, train them in manners and charms, and eventually present them to high officials or nobles for their amusement.”

“These rich men don’t see people as people. That name is their mockery.”

“Shameless!”

Xiao Yuanbao cursed, throwing the letter aside in disgust.

Qi Beinan said, “Merchants are not the only ones who send such ‘gifts.’ Among officials, too, it’s common to trade favored concubines or pretty boys to curry favor.”

“All are pitiful souls, their fates not their own, passed from one household to another.”

He looked at Xiao Yuanbao. “Now—do you still think being born with a pretty face and pleasing others is always a blessing?”

Xiao Yuanbao pressed his lips together. “I understand now.”

Then he looked at Qi Beinan again. “But how do you know all this, brother?”

Qi Beinan’s eyes shifted slightly. “From talk I’ve heard. At county banquets, after a few rounds of wine, people love to gossip about such things—boasting of what they’ve seen and done.”

Xiao Yuanbao thought to himself that those of wealth and rank truly did have strange ways of entertaining themselves.

And suddenly, a quiet unease rose in his heart.

Brother An’s family was growing in wealth and status—soon they would be a great household.

In such families, it was common for the master to take three wives and four concubines. That was very different from the farming households he had grown up among, where marriage was always one-to-one.

In his village, few ever had more than one spouse. More often there were men who couldn’t afford to marry at all. Such matters had never even crossed his mind before.

But in the city, over time, he’d learned more.

Ordinary families still lived monogamously, but the richer ones were different.

Xin Ge’er’s family, for instance, had concubines. He’d never been to Ma Junyi’s house, but it was said that he, too, kept several concubines—and that was despite marrying his beloved childhood sweetheart.

Even so, he’d still filled his household with other women.

People often said that “three wives and four concubines” were nothing unusual, but hearing of such things and facing them personally were two different matters.

He hadn’t been raised in such an environment and couldn’t help finding it all foreign and unsettling.

“What’s wrong?”

Seeing Xiao Yuanbao go quiet, his face shadowed, Qi Beinan asked softly, “Did that frighten you?”

Xiao Yuanbao shook his head.

“It’s just… in the future…”

He wanted to ask, but the words stuck in his throat.

“In the future what?” Qi Beinan asked suddenly. “You want to know if I’ll take concubines someday, don’t you?”

Xiao Yuanbao’s heart tightened—his thoughts laid bare—his cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“Whatever I want to say, brother already knows,” he muttered. “Do you have mind-reading skills or something?”

Qi Beinan chuckled. “Boys and girls alike—when they truly care for someone, that’s always the question they ask.”

“And how do men usually answer?” Xiao Yuanbao asked softly.

“When passion runs high,” Qi Beinan said, “they swear up and down that they’ll love no one else, that they’ll stay together for life, two hearts and one lifetime.”

“But after the wedding… the world often looks different.”

Xiao Yuanbao’s gaze dimmed. He lowered his eyes, staring at nothing, sadness weighing on his chest.

“I’m not telling you this to make you sad,” Qi Beinan said gently.

He took Xiao Yuanbao’s hand and drew him closer. “Life is long, and years are many. Words of promise are easy to say, but actions—actions are what make them true.”

“I can promise you anything you wish to hear, but don’t rely on words alone. Watch what I do, all right?”

Xiao Yuanbao’s lips trembled slightly, but his eyes brightened again.

Qi Beinan rubbed his thumb along Xiao Yuanbao’s hand, then pressed that hand against his own chest.

“When my father was alive,” he said softly, “he taught me many things. Of those, I only mastered two—and those two, I’ve carried further than he did.”

“One was reading and study.”

“The other… was loving only one person in a lifetime.”

In learning, he had surpassed his father by winning high honors and entering official ranks.

In love—his father had loved his mother for a lifetime, and he… he could love across two.

Xiao Yuanbao felt the steady warmth of Qi Beinan’s heartbeat beneath his palm.

Looking up into his earnest eyes, his own heart pounded wildly.

At that moment, he thought—even if such devotion could not last forever, the sincerity of it now would be enough to comfort him for the rest of his days.

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