Ch 19: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

The next morning, after checking Jiang Yan’s wound and changing his dressing, Jiang Ji began working on the latrine project.

He wrapped a cloth around his mouth and nose, grabbed his tools, and got to work.

He had already explained to his family the night before what the wooden trough was for. Everyone was curious about this “flush toilet” he kept talking about, so they gathered around to watch.

The old latrine was nothing more than a square pit with thick planks laid across the top. When people squatted, their entire bodies were positioned right above the waste pit, so the stench was overwhelming.

Now, Jiang Ji planned to dig a short sloped trench in front of the pit and set the wooden trough into it. Once fixed in place, he would use thatched walls to separate it from the waste pit behind. Just like that, it would become a simple flush-style toilet.

He first removed the door and the front thatch wall of the old latrine and set them aside. Then, after measuring out the distance, he began digging the trench.

It only needed to be about a meter long and a little over a foot wide, not too deep. He finished it quickly.

Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru carried the wooden trough over and lowered it into place. The pit was a little too narrow, so Jiang Ji dug out a bit more on each side. After a few adjustments, it finally fit snugly—slightly higher than ground level, with wooden planks on both sides to stabilize it.

The slope wasn’t steep, but Zhao Ru was still worried. “Will the trough slide down after a while?”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. “I’ll make some stakes to hold it steady.”

He chopped down a few saplings about as thick as his leg, whittled them into two-meter-long stakes, and hammered two in to block the trough. Then he placed two horizontal beams across the waste pit to brace the stakes and tied everything tightly with rope.

“That should do it, right?” he said, turning to the others. “It shouldn’t move anymore, should it?”

Everyone agreed that it looked good.

“Alright, then.”

Jiang Ji stomped down the dirt around the trough to pack it in, laid two prepared planks on top, and the trench was done.

Next came the grass wall partition.

“Should we just reuse the old wall from the back?” Zhao Ru suggested.

Jiang Ji wrinkled his nose. “No way—that thing’s too disgusting. Let’s make a new one.”

So Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia went off to weave the new wall. Jiang Yan, though still not fully recovered, helped them as best he could without exerting too much strength.

Meanwhile, Jiang Ji found several sturdy logs to make a frame. He extended the original structure by about two meters.

He didn’t know how to build a pointed roof, so he decided to make the frame higher and cover it with a flat top instead.

While he was digging and arranging the posts, Da Zhu—the old doctor’s grandson—passed by and came over curiously. “Jiang Ji, what are you doing?”

“Brother Da Zhu, I’m remodeling the latrine,” Jiang Ji said.

Da Zhu looked toward the existing outhouse. “But you already have one, don’t you?”

Then his gaze fell on the wooden trough. “What’s that?”

“That’s the flushing trough. I carved it myself,” Jiang Ji explained simply, outlining his plan.

As Da Zhu pictured it in his mind, he quickly realized how convenient this “flush toilet” would be and immediately grew interested.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Jiang Ji said, “Brother, if you’ve got some time, could you help me set up the frame?”

Da Zhu agreed readily. “Sure thing!”

He was curious to see how it would look once finished and whether it would really work as well as Jiang Ji claimed.

With Da Zhu’s help, the frame went up quickly, and Zhao Ru’s group had also finished weaving the grass walls.

Together, they tied the walls to wooden poles fastened to the frame. The back wall, the one closest to the waste pit, was packed thick to block the smell. The other three walls were left with an open strip—about a foot high near the top—for ventilation.

When the roof was set in place and secured with ropes, the simple latrine was complete.

Jiang Ji filled an old wooden bucket with water and set it in the corner, adding a gourd ladle beside it. Done!

Everyone gathered around the new latrine with excitement. Jiang Nan rushed in first to test it out.

“Can you squat down?” Jiang Ji called. “You can stand closer to the narrow part in front.”

“I can squat!” Jiang Nan answered proudly from inside.

“Remember to flush!” Jiang Ji reminded him.

“I didn’t actually go,” Jiang Nan said as he came out grinning. “Just wanted to try squatting.”

“Does it still smell?”

Jiang Nan shook his head happily. “Only a little bit! And I don’t feel like I’m gonna fall in anymore!”

Jiang Bei ran in next, tested it, and came out beaming. “Now we don’t have to worry about slipping into the pit!”

Before, when the twins went to the old latrine, they were still small, and squatting above the pit had always been scary—they feared falling in every time. Now that the floor was solid and the waste pit was behind the wall, they finally felt safe.

Jiang Ji laughed. “Good. That’s the point.”

Everyone took turns testing it, and all were satisfied.

Jiang Ji turned to Jiang Yan. “What do you think?”

Jiang Yan nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “Excellent.”

Jiang Ji raised his brows, pleased. “See? Now you don’t have to hold it in anymore. That’s bad for your health.”

Jiang Yan: …

He’d indeed been enduring the old latrine’s stench. With his injury, he didn’t like walking to the grove either, so he often waited until he absolutely couldn’t anymore before going.

He hadn’t realized Jiang Ji had noticed.

Jiang Yan glanced at him—this man looked carefree and casual, but he was surprisingly observant.

After trying it himself, Da Zhu came out and said, “Jiang Ji, this is great! I’m going to build one at home too.”

Seeing everyone’s satisfaction, Jiang Ji felt an odd surge of accomplishment and pride.

He had created this with his own hands—a real, tangible improvement. A quiet joy and fulfillment welled up inside him, something he had never felt in his past life.

By afternoon, word must have spread through Da Zhu. Many villagers came to see the new latrine for themselves. After each visit, they left impressed and cheerful.

Over the next two days, wave after wave of people came to look, and soon, many households in the village began remodeling their own latrines.

Jiang Ji was thrilled. His design had sparked real change—if it made even a small improvement to everyone’s living conditions, that was enough to make him happy.

He even gave some extra advice: if they could afford it, they should coat the trough with paint or tung oil, or use a stone trough instead. It would last longer and make flushing easier. The footboards could be replaced with stone slabs, too.

Before long, word spread beyond their village. People from the neighboring one came to see and started building their own versions.

One household after another followed suit, and soon, the idea was spreading far and wide.

While the villagers busied themselves upgrading their latrines, Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia finished another ten or so sets of undergarments.

Each one looked different. Some had lace—large lace, small lace—some had bows, and others were simple and plain. There were even three specially made lighter, breezier sets.

Jiang Ji stared, astonished. “You two made this many styles?”

“I came up with seven or eight designs, Xia’er thought of three, and together we added another three,” Zhao Ru said. “You’ve seen what the immortals use, right? What do you think?”

Jiang Ji gave a big thumbs-up. “Perfect. Mother, Xia’er, you both have real talent for design!”

He’d only given them a general direction and a few suggestions. For two women who had never seen modern lingerie before, to be able to innovate like this was remarkable.

“De… design?” Zhao Ru repeated, puzzled.

“Design means creating new patterns and styles,” Jiang Ji explained. “When people sew, they usually copy existing clothes. But designers—designers invent new looks and lead trends. That’s a rare kind of talent—one in a million.”

Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia both brightened, delighted by his praise.

They brought the finished pieces to the city and delivered them to Shopkeeper Sun. When she saw how each set had a unique design, she was thrilled.

“Madam, how did you come up with so many styles?” Sun exclaimed. “Honestly, I’ve hired other women to make these, but none of theirs look this good or this creative!”

“As long as you’re satisfied,” Zhao Ru replied with a smile. Then she asked, “Shopkeeper, are you still looking for more workers? I have a friend—she’s very skilled with the needle too. Could she take some of your orders?”

Shopkeeper Sun, in high spirits, agreed readily. “Sure. Have her make one set following your design. If it meets the standard, I’ll pay her the same rate as you. I haven’t paid any other seamstress this well.”

Zhao Ru nodded happily. “Of course. I’ll ask her to make a sample for you to see first.”

“Good.” Shopkeeper Sun leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Madam, just a heads-up—this business won’t stay exclusive for long. We need to make as much profit as we can now. In about ten days, I’ll be sending shipments to the prefecture and the provincial capital. Once people there catch on, others will start copying us, and our profits will shrink fast.”

Zhao Ru understood immediately. “We’ll need to come up with new styles constantly, so we don’t fall behind.”

“Exactly.” Shopkeeper Sun was pleased with her quick understanding. “So, Madam, for these next ten days, make as many as you can. Earn what you can while the market’s still fresh. After that, depending on sales, I’ll let you know how much we’ll need.”

“Alright, thank you, Shopkeeper.”

That day, they sold thirteen sets—four silk ones at three taels each, and the rest at two taels per set—earning a total of thirty taels of silver.

When they got home, Zhao Ru first told Jiang Ji that she wanted Aunt Xiufang to help make clothes too.

Aunt Xiufang had done a lot for their family—she was straightforward, generous, and not the type to leak others’ secrets or ruin her own source of income—so Jiang Ji nodded in agreement.

Thinking about the coming spring planting, Jiang Ji asked, “Mother, what if we use some of the money to buy more farmland?”

“Buying land is fine,” Zhao Ru said, “but can we manage it?”

Every farmer dreamed of having more land, but when she thought about it seriously, their household only had about two and a half laborers. Their current fields already matched their capacity.

Jiang Ji said, “We definitely can’t handle it all ourselves. But when it gets busy, I can hire help. Later, even if we don’t farm it ourselves, we can rent it out.”

Zhao Ru realized her son had already made up his mind and nodded. After all, land wasn’t going anywhere—it would only appreciate.

“Alright.”

Jiang Ji added, “If Aunt Xiufang’s family has some spare money, tell her to buy a bit too. Once we start selling the seeds, the families with savings will all want to buy land. If she waits, it might be too late. Also, tell her not to spread the word yet—let her buy first.”

“Got it. I’ll talk to her.”

So Zhao Ru called Xiufang over and first told her about the clothing business.

“…The shopkeeper said today she’s still looking for people to make them,” Zhao Ru said. “I asked if you could too, and she agreed—but you’ll have to make one set first to show her your needlework.”

When Xiufang saw the small garments Zhao Ru brought out, she was stunned for a long time. “Good heavens, who came up with this?”

Zhao Ru couldn’t exactly say they were modeled after what immortals wore—much less that Jiang Ji had designed them—so she skipped that part. “I just thought it was a good idea. Perfect for summer—comfortable and airy.”

“I think so too,” Xiufang said. “Whoever thought of this must have a clever head—it’s genius!”

Zhao Ru blinked. Well, immortals do have clever heads, she thought.

Once she heard it was profitable—two taels of silver per set—Xiufang agreed without hesitation.

“Thank you, Xiao Ru. I’ll work with you. Quick, show me how to make it!”

Who could turn down the chance to earn silver?

She didn’t even ask where Zhao Ru had gotten this business idea. The fact that Zhao Ru thought of her when there was money to be made already made her happy.

Zhao Ru took her hand. “There’s one more thing I need to tell you.”

Xiufang, still cheerful, said, “Go ahead.”

Zhao Ru lowered her voice. “For the next few days, don’t go to the fields. Use all your time to make clothes. Once we sell them, use the money to buy land.”

Xiufang froze. “Buy land? Why?”

Following Jiang Ji’s instructions, Zhao Ru explained, “Xiao Ji met a traveling merchant from the south. He can get us new varieties of southern rice seeds—the harvest from those can double. There are also other crops that can be stored and eaten through winter. They’ll be selling the seeds in a few days, and when that happens, anyone with money will rush to buy farmland. Xiao Ji’s going to the yamen tomorrow to buy some—we’re planning to get ten mu.”

Xiufang was stunned. Ten mu of land would cost fifty taels. Zhao Ru wasn’t the type to spend so much unless she was sure it was worth it.

After a pause, Xiufang asked, “What kind of new crops?”

“Hold on, I’ll show you.”

Zhao Ru fetched two things from Jiang Ji—a sweet potato and a corn cob—and handed them to Xiufang. “These. This one’s called a sweet potato, and this one’s corn. Steam them for fifteen minutes—they’re delicious and keep well through winter.”

She pressed the sweet potato and corn into Xiufang’s hands. “Try them tonight, but don’t tell anyone yet.”

Xiufang looked at the unfamiliar foods and nodded. “Alright, I’ll do as you say.”

That evening, Xiufang brought her eldest daughter, Tao’er, to Zhao Ru’s room to learn how to make the garments.

When she went home later, she told her husband everything and steamed the sweet potato and corn. Their family of six each took a bite—and were immediately conquered by the soft, sweet taste of the sweet potato and the crisp sweetness of the corn.

“So good!”

Her husband, Tu Gen, made a prompt decision.

“Starting tomorrow, you and Tao’er stop going to the fields. Focus on making clothes. I’ll handle the farm work and the cooking—you two just sew and make enough to buy land!”

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