Ch 44: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

The heavy rain lasted for about an hour before easing into a drizzle, which continued for nearly another half hour before finally stopping.

Even though they were planning to build a new house, the roof of the old one still had to be patched up for now.

As soon as the rain stopped, Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan grabbed their tools and began repairing it.

They first tied bundles of rice straw together using thin bamboo slats and small wooden strips, making thick thatch mats. Then they climbed up to place them over the leaking spots, securing them tightly with rope.

Jiang Ji set up a long ladder and was about to climb up when Jiang Yan stopped him. “I’ll go.”

Jiang Ji blinked. “I’m lighter.”

“I’ve got better balance,” Jiang Yan replied.

“…” Jiang Ji gave him a skeptical look. “You sure you know how?”

Jiang Yan nodded. “Just learned.”

Jiang Ji stared for a moment, then shrugged. “Alright, go ahead then.”

Jiang Yan climbed up the ladder while Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru steadied it from below.

“Be careful!” Zhao Ru called up. “Step on the roof beams—make sure your footing’s firm!”

“Got it,” Jiang Yan answered.

Once he was on the roof, Jiang Ji climbed partway up to hand him the straw mats. Jiang Yan took them, leaned forward to place them over the spots that had leaked earlier, stretched his arm out to tie them down securely, and pressed back the thatch that the wind had blown loose.

Standing on top of the ladder, Jiang Ji glanced around and saw that many other families were also repairing their roofs.

Thatched houses were like this—one strong gust of wind could damage them, and they had to be patched several times every year.

He spotted Uncle Tu Gen and Aunt Xiufang returning from the fields in their straw raincoats and called out, “Uncle, Auntie! Where did you two go?”

They came into the courtyard, and Aunt Xiufang replied, “We went to check on the potatoes. I was worried the heavy rain might’ve washed the soil away and left them exposed.”

“There’s straw on top for insulation—it should be fine, right?” Jiang Ji asked. Since they didn’t have plastic sheeting, he had instructed everyone to cover their crops with straw to keep them warm.

“Most of it’s fine,” Aunt Xiufang said. “Just a few spots where the straw wasn’t pressed down properly—it got blown open.”

Zhao Ru grew anxious. “Oh dear, I should go take a look too.”

Tu Gen waved a hand. “No need. We already checked yours—not much was blown off. We pressed it back down.”

“Thanks, Uncle,” Jiang Ji said.

“No need to thank us. You two keep fixing the roof—we’ll head back.”

Still uneasy, Zhao Ru went to the fields herself to check. She also inspected the sweet potato vines.

They had already sprouted—a stretch of tender purplish-red stems and tiny green leaves. Because of the rain, the leaves were splattered with mud, but they looked strong and healthy.

Some water had pooled in the furrows, so Zhao Ru dug small trenches at the edge of the field to let it drain smoothly.

Many villagers were out doing the same, checking on their potatoes and sweet potatoes, afraid that the heavy rain had damaged their precious crops.

By dusk, Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan had finished patching the roof. After dinner, Jiang Ji began sketching plans for the new house.

He wasn’t an architect, but he could at least draw the general layout—something to discuss later with the builders.

When he thought about house styles, the first thing that came to mind was a traditional courtyard layout. This world, though different, shared the same cultural roots as the ancient era of his previous life, so the architectural style was very similar.

What mattered most to Jiang Ji, however, was the functionality of the layout.

“Mother, Xia’er, come take a look,” he said, beckoning them over. “See if this design works—or if there’s anything else we should add.”

Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia leaned closer to study the drawing. Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei climbed up on the bench, stretching their little necks to peer over the table.

Jiang Ji pointed to the paper with his brush. “Look here—this is what I’m thinking. The main house, with east and west wings, two rooms each, so everyone gets their own. Next to that, three study rooms—one for Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei, one for Xia’er, and one for me and Jiang Yan. Over here will be a small storage room and two bathhouses. Behind that row, the kitchen, a small dining room, a storeroom, and a woodshed. Then we’ll dig our own well, so we won’t have to haul water anymore.”

“On both sides connecting to the main house,” he continued, “we’ll build two more rows of rooms—for future servants or guests to stay in. Over here, an animal yard—latrine, pigsty, cowshed, and stable.”

The family gathered around listening as Jiang Ji explained, each offering their own ideas.

Jiang Nan’s eyes went wide. “That’s so many rooms! Such a big house?”

“Right,” Jiang Ji nodded.

Jiang Bei still looked worried about money. “Big brother, do we really have enough money for that?”

The adults all couldn’t help but laugh.

Jiang Ji flicked his little brother’s forehead. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve got enough to build it.”

Jiang Bei gaped, shocked. “That much money? But that sounds like it’ll cost a lot, a lot of silver!”

He turned to Jiang Yan. “Is it Brother Jiang Yan’s money?”

Jiang Yan smiled and shook his head. “No, your brother earned it.”

Jiang Bei’s eyes lit up. “Big brother, you made that much? Did you do lots and lots of work for the immortal?”

“Mm. So don’t worry,” Jiang Ji said with a grin.

Both Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei looked at him in awe, eyes full of admiration.

“Big brother, you’re amazing!” Jiang Bei said sincerely.

Jiang Ji laughed and ruffled his hair.

Jiang Yan, watching from the side, thought about what Jiang Bei had said. So to the children, Jiang Ji explained everything by saying it came from “the immortal,” huh?

His expression turned a little strange.

There were no immortals in this world—as far as he was concerned, at least, he’d never believed in such things.

Zhao Ru looked over the plan. “Xiao Ji, a house that big will need several mu of land, won’t it?”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. Now that they had money, and land in the countryside was cheap, they might as well make it spacious and comfortable. One mu was about 600 square meters—roughly 30 meters long by 20 wide—barely enough for a small courtyard.

Since he wanted a courtyard and a garden, he glanced at his drawing and said, “Let’s buy twenty mu.”

That would be about the size of two football fields—not too big, not too small, he thought.

“So much?” Zhao Ru said in surprise.

Jiang Ji looked at his younger siblings and explained, “They’ll grow up fast. If they want their own little courtyards later, we can build beside ours instead of having to buy land again. And when everyone in the village starts earning money, they’ll want land to build houses too—by then, we might not have enough space nearby.”

“Plus, while the land’s still cheap, buying it all at once is more cost-effective. There’s an open patch of unused land at the foot of the hill southeast of the village. Once it’s gone, there won’t be that much land left. And if we have extra, we can use it later to build workshops.”

Zhao Ru looked at her children. She hadn’t expected her son to think so far ahead. Smiling, she nodded. “Alright.”

…

The next morning after breakfast, Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru went to find the village head to discuss buying land for the house.

“Sure, no problem,” the village head said. “Just tell me where, then go to the county office to register it.”

Jiang Ji said, “That patch of open land at the foot of the back hill—we’ll take all of it.”

“All of it?” The village head’s eyes widened. “That’s over twenty mu, isn’t it?”

“Mm.”

The village head froze for a moment before asking, “You’re really going to build a house that big?”

“Not all at once,” Jiang Ji explained. “I’m just buying it first—it’ll be easier to use later when we need it.”

“Oh, alright, I understand,” the village head said.

He accompanied them to the county office to register the purchase. Officials were dispatched to measure the land, mark the boundaries, and place foundation stones. Afterward, Jiang Ji paid the money, completed the paperwork, and received the deed.

While in town, he also asked around for the best team of builders. The most skilled group was currently finishing another house and would need a few more days before they were free.

Jiang Ji arranged with their master builder, Foreman Zheng, to come inspect the site once they were done, then returned home.

Once that business was settled, Jiang Ji brought together the village head, Uncle Tu Gen’s family, and the families who had helped him sell seeds earlier. They started on watermelon and tomato seedlings, and since some villagers wanted to try growing chili peppers, he also taught them how to raise pepper sprouts.

When it came time to water the seeds, Jiang Ji noticed everyone was using ladles. But for seedbeds, that wasn’t ideal—ladles poured too hard and could wash the seeds away. Fine misting was better, gentle enough not to disturb the soil.

“Mother, don’t water yet—give me a moment.”

Zhao Ru paused, confused. “Huh? We’re not watering? What are you going to do?”

Uncle Tu Gen and the others all looked at him curiously.

“We’ll water, just not with ladles,” Jiang Ji said, calling to Jiang Yan. “Jiang Yan, go borrow a saw from the village head and bring it home. I’m going to cut a piece of bamboo. Uncle, you all wait at my house.”

Jiang Yan went to fetch the saw, and the others followed him home to wait.

Before long, Jiang Ji came back carrying a large bamboo stalk on his shoulder.

He used the saw to cut out the thickest, longest section, then used a nail to punch many tiny holes through one end of the node, leaving the other end open.

“What are you making?” the village head asked.

“A water sprayer,” Jiang Ji replied. “For watering seedlings after sowing. Later we can also use it for spraying pesticide or fertilizer.”

He shaved another section of bamboo, roughly the same width as the hollow interior, and whittled one end down a bit thinner. Wrapping that end with strips of cloth, he pushed it into the open end of the larger bamboo tube and tested it a few times. It fit perfectly.

“Alright, watch this.”

Jiang Ji filled a basin with water from the kitchen, dipped the bamboo into it, pulled the inner piece to draw in water, then pushed it down—the water sprayed softly from the perforated end.

A fine, gentle mist fell evenly from the bamboo, scattering like light rain.

“With this, the seeds won’t get washed away,” he explained. “And later, when we spray medicine on the leaves, this will come in handy too.”

Jiang Yan’s eyes brightened as he watched. “Let me try.”

Jiang Ji handed him the bamboo sprayer. Jiang Yan dipped it in the basin, drew up water, and pressed it down—again, a delicate mist fanned out.

“Not bad,” Jiang Yan said approvingly.

Uncle Tu Gen and the village head each tried it too. Then the two of them immediately went home, grabbed their machetes, and started cutting bamboo. Before long, they came back dragging several stalks to Jiang Ji’s courtyard and began making their own sprayers under his guidance.

Jiang Ji built three more himself and then went to water the vegetable beds.

People working in nearby fields saw them pumping water through bamboo and came over to have a look—everyone thought it was clever.

Within two days, the bamboo grove behind the hill was noticeably thinner—dozens of stalks had been cut down.

It was peak planting season for vegetables and melons; every household was busy sowing seeds, the village lively and full of energy.

By that time, Lord Chen had returned—along with two clerks and yamen runners from other counties. They had come to deliver the money owed for the seeds.

After Zhao Ru received the payment, she thought for a moment and had Jiang Ji make another safe box. She wanted to store the money separately, just in case.

After two days of soaking and a few more days of sprouting, the rice seeds were ready to be sown.

Because it was everyone’s first time using the moist-seedling method, people from nearby households came to watch Jiang Ji’s process.

Both Lord Chen and Magistrate Xu arrived with their attendants to observe in person.

That morning, Jiang Ji plowed the seedbed again. After breakfast, seeing everyone had gathered, he and Jiang Yan divided the field into seedling beds three to four feet wide, leaving one-foot drainage trenches between them.

To finish early and return home to sow their own, Uncle Tu Gen and the others came down into the field to help shape the seedbeds.

Holding a wooden basin filled with sprouted rice, Jiang Ji scooped a handful and gently scattered the seeds across the soft mud.

“Like this,” he explained. “It’s actually simple. The soil should be fine and loose. Sprinkle the seeds evenly so they settle naturally into the mud. If some don’t, just brush lightly over them with a broom later. Since it’s been raining a lot, once we finish, we’ll cover the beds with straw when it rains again to keep the seedlings from being damaged.”

As he demonstrated, the villagers quickly learned and went home to start sowing their own fields.

It took Jiang Ji’s family the whole morning—their land was large, so the area to sow was big. Once Uncle Tu Gen’s family finished their own, they came back to lend a hand.

Lord Chen stood nearby, sketching the entire process carefully. He planned to have the drawings copied and distributed to other counties—a truly dedicated official.

Thanks to his help and that of the others, Jiang Ji’s work went much faster.

After several busy days, once all the sowing was done, Foreman Zheng’s construction team finally finished their previous project. He brought his workers to inspect Jiang Ji’s land.

Foreman Zheng was around forty, a veteran craftsman from a long line of builders.

Looking between Jiang Ji’s drawing and the site, he asked, “So you’re building this big? The full twenty mu?”

“No, no,” Jiang Ji said quickly. “We’ll start with half—just ten mu, over on this side.” He gestured roughly across the land.

“Then this layout will need to be redrawn,” Zheng said. “The proportions are all off.”

“I know,” Jiang Ji said, smiling. “This was just a rough sketch. You’re the expert—I’ll have to trouble you to help us design and plan it properly.”

“Alright, let’s measure the length and width first,” Foreman Zheng said.

Following the area Jiang Ji had marked out, he led his workers to carefully measure the land, then turned to him. “Master Jiang, you’ll need to tell me what kind of layout and features you want.”

Jiang Ji described his ideas one by one. After listening, Zheng nodded. “Alright, I’ll draw it up and show you the day after tomorrow.”

…

Two days later, Zheng returned with the design drawings. Jiang Ji examined them and was very satisfied. The two discussed details, made a few minor adjustments, and finalized the plan.

They also agreed on the price—not a daily wage, but a flat rate based on the total project size. After setting the start date, everything was ready for construction to begin.

“How long will it take to finish?” Jiang Ji asked.

“About three and a half months,” Zheng replied. “Most of this ten mu is still wasteland. Clearing and leveling it will take quite a bit of work. If you want to finish faster, you’ll need to hire more hands to help with the clearing—could save you several days.”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. “Alright, I’ll find people to help.”

By now, most of the planting work in the fields had wrapped up, and the villagers had a bit of free time.

Jiang Ji quickly hired forty to fifty able-bodied men from the village to help clear the land, offering thirty copper coins a day—ten more than they’d get for labor in town. Everyone worked with great enthusiasm, and within three days, the thorns, weeds, and stones were completely cleared. Even the roots were dug out, and the land was leveled smooth.

The villagers all knew Jiang Ji’s family was building a new house. Looking at the wide, cleared land, everyone was amazed—it was huge.

“That’s a big plot of land. Must be planning to build a proper estate—like the wealthy families in town, with several courtyards.”

“I heard he made a lot selling seeds. Went to several counties, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, wonder where he found those traveling merchants—what luck, hitting fortune like that.”

“Well, that’s fate for you. Just two months ago, his family was still eating wild greens and rice bran. Now look—he’s building a mansion.”

“They’ve really turned their lives around.”

“Jiang Ji’s already nineteen, right? Matchmakers never used to visit their house. But lately, I’ve heard plenty of families have been trying to send matchmakers to propose.”

“Different times now. If I had a daughter, I’d be thinking about it too.”

“He went to several counties. They must’ve made at least ten thousand taels of silver, right?”

“At least that much, probably more.”

Aunt Xiufang, who was also helping with the clearing, frowned when she heard the gossip. “Alright, enough of that. The magistrate already said—once we harvest the new rice and sweet potatoes, we can sell the seeds ourselves and make good money too. We should be grateful to Jiang Ji.”

“That’s true,” one woman muttered, “but still, can’t compare to his family.”

Aunt Xiufang sighed. “Why keep comparing? As long as we’re better off than before, that’s what matters.”

Another woman smirked. “Easy for you to say. Jiang Ji let your family plant those melons—you’ve got it better than the rest of us.”

Aunt Xiufang laughed. “They’re called watermelons. Zhao Ru and Xiao Ji were kind enough to include us, of course I’m happy. Our families have been through hardship together. If more of you had helped them back when they were struggling, I’m sure he’d have shared seeds with you too. He’s even selling us the new rice and sweet potato seeds at fair prices now—so let’s appreciate that instead of spreading nonsense behind their backs. If Zhao Ru or Jiang Ji overheard this, how would they feel, huh?”

Her words silenced everyone nearby.

Jiang Yan was on-site supervising the work. His hearing was sharp, so even from a distance he caught every word of the women’s chatter. He glanced over briefly, then turned to look at Jiang Ji, who was standing farther away, talking with Foreman Zheng.

At nineteen, Jiang Ji was indeed considered late to marry by village standards—many young men married at sixteen or seventeen, and by nineteen already had children running around.

The reason no matchmakers had visited before was because his family had been poor. But now that they were wealthy… well.

Jiang Yan looked at him for a while, then finally looked away.

While the clearing continued on one side, Foreman Zheng was busy drawing the construction diagrams and estimating the needed materials. He took Jiang Ji along to purchase foundation stones, green bricks, tiles, and lumber, scheduling delivery times based on the construction timeline.

Zheng’s team was experienced—they built several straw sheds on the open land to store materials that couldn’t get wet.

Once they started laying out foundation lines and digging, cartloads of supplies began arriving one after another.

Life became extremely busy for Jiang Ji’s household. Between tending the fields and supervising construction, every day was packed from dawn to dusk.

One afternoon, after Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan returned from the fields where they’d been spreading compost, they entered the main room and saw Zhao Ru chatting happily with another woman.

“Mother, we’re back.”

At their arrival, the visitor stood up and greeted them with a bright smile. “Ah, Jiang Ji, you’re back!”

Setting down their baskets and hoes under the eaves, Jiang Ji glanced at the unfamiliar woman in confusion. “Mother, this auntie is…?”

Zhao Ru introduced her. “She’s the sister-in-law of Li Dali’s aunt from our village—she’s from Mushan Village. She’s a well-known matchmaker from the nearby villages and came specially to arrange a marriage for you.”

“What?” Jiang Ji’s eyes went wide. “A marriage—for me?!”

Jiang Yan, who was washing his hands nearby, paused mid-motion and looked up toward them as well.

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