Ch 16: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

After breakfast, Zhao Ru took Jiang Xia to town to buy cloth. The two little troublemakers, Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei, clamored to go too, so she brought them along.

Before leaving, Zhao Ru didn’t forget to set the chicken soup to simmer on the stove and reminded Jiang Ji to keep an eye on the fire.

Once she was gone, Jiang Ji changed Jiang Yan’s dressing, watched him take his medicine and lie down to rest, then moved a small table to the stove. While watching over the soup, he claimed his rewards for the Basic Farming Skill and the Farm Tool Modification Skill.

The moment he accepted them, a flood of knowledge filled his mind—centuries of ancient agricultural experience from hardworking farmers, along with detailed understanding of tool-making and modification techniques.

“My goodness,” he murmured. “Worthy of being a system reward.”

He now clearly understood how to cultivate crops that didn’t yet exist in this era—sweet potatoes, potatoes, and corn. From seedling propagation to transplanting, fertilizing, and field management—everything was clear in his head.

The only thing he wasn’t certain about was this world’s exact climate.

Wait—hold on. Jiang Ji opened the system’s background interface and scrolled to the section about the world’s era and environment.

“I knew I saw it somewhere before.”

When the system first bound to him, it had loaded comprehensive information about this world—geography, climate, and all.

The Dasheng Empire had twenty-one provincial prefectures, each governing its own states and counties. Jiang Ji lived in Changping County of Yunzhou, located in the south-central region of Dasheng.

The area experienced four distinct seasons: hot, rainy summers with abundant sunlight, and dry winters. With warmth and rain coming together, the climate was quite favorable for crop growth.

The flood of data in his head was dizzying. Worried he might forget something later, Jiang Ji decided to write it all down one by one.

He didn’t know how to use a brush, and the vertical writing style of ancient notebooks looked inconvenient. So he exchanged for modern notebooks and a water-based pen, then began writing down detailed planting methods for various crops. That way, when he taught the villagers later, he could simply read straight from his notes.

He started with staple grains—most people here grew rice—so he first wrote out the methods for rice cultivation.

Next came the crops he planned to promote: sweet potatoes, potatoes, corn, and cotton.

During a short break, Jiang Ji asked curiously, “2977, why are the characters in this world the same as the ones from ancient times in my world?”

【This world is a minor branch of an alternate timeline parallel to your world’s ancient era. It shares the same origin, but its history developed much more slowly.】

“Oh, so you brought me here to develop agriculture?”

2977 said nothing.

“You’re feeling guilty, huh.”

【Beyond clearance. Cannot answer.】

“…”

Jiang Ji sighed and went back to writing. Time passed unknowingly until the light before him dimmed. When he looked up, he nearly jumped—the handsome face of Jiang Yan was right in front of him.

“You’re up?”

Jiang Yan didn’t answer the question. His gaze was fixed curiously on the pen in Jiang Ji’s hand. “What are you writing? Is that… a pen?”

“Yes, a pen.” The man walked lightly—no sound at all—so Jiang Ji exhaled slowly. “You gave me a scare.”

Jiang Yan sat beside him, eyes still fixed on the pen. “May I have a look?”

Jiang Ji hesitated a moment, then handed it over.

Jiang Yan examined it carefully. The shaft was made of some translucent material, the tip fine and firm—not bristles. He brushed it across his fingertip; the line it left was thin and neat.

“The tip is hard… how is this made? And where does the ink come from?” Jiang Yan asked, full of wonder.

Jiang Ji shook his head.

Jiang Yan then picked up the notebook. “Your notebook reads sideways? The paper’s smooth, the binding tight—no seams at all.”

Seeing his interest, Jiang Ji blinked, quickly made up a story, and said, “I bought it in town. They said it came from the southern region. I don’t know how it’s made either. I just thought the lines were smaller, and the pen was fine enough to fit more words, so I bought them—good value.”

“Oh.” Jiang Yan nodded and didn’t press further. Looking at the writing, he added, “Some of your characters… I can’t recognize.”

Glancing at the simplified script, Jiang Ji laughed awkwardly. “Ah, that. You know how it is—we were poor. My father only managed to send me to the village school for a few years, so I’ve forgotten a lot. If any of these are wrong, don’t laugh at me.”

“I won’t.” Jiang Yan looked at him seriously. “If you don’t mind, I can teach you.”

Jiang Ji paused, eyes curving with a smile. “Sure, I’d appreciate that.”

Jiang Yan studied the notes again, a little surprised. “You’re writing planting methods?”

“Yeah,” Jiang Ji said, deciding to mix truth with fiction. “The sweet potatoes and corn we ate this morning—I bought them from a southern merchant. They don’t exist around here yet. He told me how they’re grown, and I didn’t want to forget, so I wrote it all down.”

“That’s wise.” Jiang Yan nodded. “Memory isn’t always reliable. Better to record things—you can always look them up later.”

He sounded like a man who spoke from experience. Jiang Ji smiled. “Exactly—better a bad pen than a good memory.”

“Indeed.” Jiang Yan pointed to a line. “You meant to write ‘time’ here, didn’t you?”

“Right.”

Jiang Yan wanted to write something and held the pen like a calligraphy brush. Jiang Ji stopped him, fetched another pen and notebook from Zhao Ru’s room, and opened it to the first page. “Write here—horizontally.”

Since he was living in this era, Jiang Ji figured he might as well learn traditional script properly instead of explaining every time.

Jiang Yan held the black water pen like a brush and began writing carefully.

It looked awkward. Jiang Ji reached over, demonstrating. “Try holding it like this. The seller said this pen works best that way.”

Jiang Yan, humble and quick to learn, adjusted his grip. Though still a bit unnatural, his writing did improve.

The characters, however, looked less elegant than before.

Seeing the faint crease between his brows, Jiang Ji comforted him, “You’re not used to this pen yet. Totally normal. Your writing still looks way better than mine.”

The tension in Jiang Yan’s expression eased slightly.

Thinking he might be bored while recovering, Jiang Ji asked, “Would you like some writing tools? Maybe a book or two? I can bring some back from town.”

Jiang Yan’s eyes lit up. “If it’s not too much trouble, could you bring me a book?”

“Sure. What kind?”

“Anything. I don’t remember what I used to read. Whatever you pick is fine.”

“Alright.”

Jiang Yan corrected his “mistaken characters,” and Jiang Ji copied each word carefully in traditional form, one line per term.

Watching his quick strokes, Jiang Yan commented, “You seem very practiced with this pen.”

“Mm, it’s easy to get used to. You can practice with it too—it’s handier than a brush, I think.”

The two took turns teaching and learning, occasionally chatting about the planting notes. By the time they reviewed everything Jiang Ji had written, Jiang Yan already had a general grasp of the cultivation methods.

“Here you wrote that sweet potatoes and corn can be planted once the temperature rises around the time of the Rain Water solar term—that’s soon, isn’t it?” Jiang Yan asked, reading the notebook.

Jiang Ji nodded. “Yeah, very soon.”

Near noon, Zhao Ru and the others still hadn’t returned, so Jiang Ji decided to start cooking.

The small fire in the stove still simmered—the chicken soup Zhao Ru had left earlier filled the air with its rich aroma.

Jiang Ji set the pot aside, then, following the original owner’s memories, rinsed the rice, placed the small pot back on the stove, added wood to the fire, and began to cook.

He’d watched Jiang Xia and the others tend the stove for several days, and with the original host’s memories as reference, cooking rice was no longer a problem for him.

Just as the rice began to boil, Zhao Ru and the others returned—bringing back a fresh fish as well.

Once Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia came in, they put their things away and immediately took over the cooking.

Jiang Ji secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Cooking dishes still wasn’t his strength, though he did have a good palate. In his previous life, he’d often listened to the family’s chef and housekeeper talk about food; at least he could play the part of a “mouth-only” chef.

Since both he and Jiang Yan were still taking medicine and had to avoid strong flavors, Zhao Ru planned to steam the fish.

When Jiang Ji saw her preparing to throw the fish directly into the steamer without any seasoning, he remembered that her fish dishes always carried a strong muddy odor. He quickly exchanged for a piece of fresh ginger, a bottle of rice wine, and a bottle of soy-based fish sauce.

“Mother,” he said, “marinate it with ginger and wine first. Steam it only after the water boils. Once it’s done, pour out all the steaming liquid—it’s what makes the fish smell. Then sprinkle chopped scallions and ginger shreds on top, pour over this sauce, and finish with hot oil.”

Zhao Ru paused, then nodded. “Alright.”

After finishing the rest of the dishes, she followed his directions and steamed the fish.

When the family sat down to eat, everyone immediately noticed something different.

“Mother, the fish doesn’t smell fishy today!” Jiang Nan exclaimed, astonished.

During summer, Jiang Ji often took them to catch fish in the creek—a rare chance for them to have meat—but the cooked fish always tasted muddy.

Jiang Bei nodded. “It’s really good.”

Even Jiang Yan praised, “Very fresh.”

Zhao Ru herself was surprised. “I did it just as Xiao Ji said.”

Jiang Ji raised his brows with a grin. “You have to marinate the fish first to remove the odor. And the steaming liquid—that’s where the smell comes from. We never poured it out before, so it didn’t taste as good.”

“I see,” Zhao Ru said, nodding. “I’ll remember that.”

Jiang Yan glanced at Jiang Ji, puzzled. If he knew that all along, why hadn’t he told Zhao Ru sooner? Still, in his current state of amnesia, he couldn’t judge what was normal and what wasn’t, so he didn’t ask.

After lunch and cleaning up, Zhao Ru called Jiang Ji into her room. She took out the undergarments she had made the night before—the prototype meant for sale—and asked, “Xiao Ji, look at this. Is it right? I’m afraid I did it wrong.”

She’d made the set using leftover coarse cloth. Jiang Ji couldn’t tell if it looked right or not, so he checked the comments in his livestream chat and summarized what the female viewers suggested.

“The bottoms look fine,” he said. “But for daily wear, the hem of the top should have another layer—thicker, for support. The shoulder straps can be made of string, easier to adjust. Mainly, you and Jiang Xia should try them on, see what feels comfortable and looks good. That’s what matters most.”

Zhao Ru nodded thoughtfully. “Alright, I’ll adjust it.”

Jiang Ji went out while Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia stayed in the room, working together to refine the design. By evening, they had finished their first successful set.

Zhao Ru was delighted. She even tried on the brassiere herself.

Jiang Xia hadn’t developed yet, but Zhao Ru had already taught her some things in private. Watching her mother’s figure look more upright and shapely, she couldn’t help blushing.

“Mother, it looks really nice.”

Zhao Ru blushed as well, both surprised and pleased. “It does, doesn’t it? And it’s not as suffocating as the chest binding—it’s much more comfortable.”

In summer, when clothes were thin, women often bound their chests to avoid embarrassment. It was not only hot but also stifling.

“Mother, we should make more and sell them to the clothing shop! You can wear one yourself—people will definitely buy them!”

“Alright. I’ll make a slightly larger size to take and sell.”

Two days later, they successfully completed eight full sets.

The next morning, Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia set out for town to sell the clothes, and Jiang Ji went with them. He planned to check local seed prices, buy a book for Jiang Yan, and look for suitable materials to help him improve the household latrine.

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