Ch 100: Reborn to Raise My Husband

Qin Jiang knocked on the door, but no one inside responded for quite some time.

He frowned. It wasn’t that late—surely they hadn’t gone to bed already?

Balancing the tray of food he’d brought from the kitchen, his arm was beginning to ache. He shifted the weight, preparing to knock again.

Just then, the older housemaid, who had been tending the stove to keep hot water ready for the night, saw him standing there motionless before the closed door. She hurried over and pulled him aside.

“Heavens above,” she whispered urgently, “what are you doing loitering here at this hour?”

“The master told me to bring some food for him and the young master,” Qin Jiang said. “But they haven’t answered. Should I knock again or just leave it?”

The maid chuckled, shaking her head. “You foolish boy, do you think anyone’s going to answer you right now? Go on, go rest somewhere. You’re no use standing here.”

Qin Jiang scratched his head, still reluctant to leave. He turned to carry the food back toward the kitchen but kept glancing over his shoulder, half expecting Qi Beinan to call out for him to deliver it inside.

The maid caught him doing it and waved him away with a laugh. “Truly a simple soul—no sense at all.”

It was close to midnight when she, dozing lightly on a stool by the corridor, finally heard someone call for hot water from within the bridal room.

She straightened at once. The master also asked for soup and some food to be sent along.

Grinning to herself, she bustled off toward the kitchen, full of quiet amusement. Their lord was not only handsome and learned, it seemed—he was also quite the vigorous man.

Inside the room, Xiao Yuanbao lay sprawled across the bed, a light quilt draped loosely over him.

His damp hair clung to his temples, and his skin still glowed faintly with warmth. It felt as though every inch of him had been washed in sweat.

He was hungry—but more than that, thirsty.

He hadn’t done much, really, yet his limbs felt weak, too heavy to move, not even a finger willing to lift.

Qi Beinan, on the other hand, seemed unaffected—calm as ever, rising and giving instructions as though nothing at all had happened.

If not for the slight disarray of his dark hair, one might have thought he hadn’t exerted himself in the least.

Before long, the maid brought in hot water, and Wen Ge’er arrived with soup and food.

Yuanbao hid under the covers and kept his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep.

“They’ve gone,” Qi Beinan said with a small smile, lifting the curtain and glancing toward the bed.

Yuanbao opened his eyes. The candlelight spilled in, dazzling him for a moment.

When his eyes adjusted, he noticed that the two red candles on the stand had burned halfway down. Thinking about all that time passing made his face heat again.

He couldn’t quite meet Qi Beinan’s gaze under the bright light, so he lowered his eyes, murmuring softly in reply.

Qi Beinan, seeing his embarrassment, didn’t tease him. He closed the curtain gently and asked in a quiet tone, “Would you rather eat first, or bathe?”

Yuanbao thought about it. His body felt limp; there was no way he could manage a bath. “Eat something,” he said.

The moment he spoke, he realized his voice had gone hoarse, almost rasping. Startled, he quickly pressed his lips shut.

Qi Beinan drew him upright into his arms. “It’s fine,” he said. “You’ll be better by morning. I had them mix some honey water for you.”

Yuanbao sat up, clutching the quilt around him. When Qi Beinan handed him the bowl, he drank quickly, the sweet taste soothing his dry throat.

Then, with a sudden thought, he looked up in alarm. “You asked for honey water—won’t they all know, then?”

Qi Beinan chuckled. “We’re a proper married couple now. We bowed before the guests, shared the wine—it’s nothing shameful. People knowing it’s only natural. If no one heard a thing, they’d think it strange.”

Yuanbao fell quiet, half convinced, though his face still burned. He wasn’t used to anyone knowing such private matters.

“What food is it?” he asked at last.

“Lean meat porridge and a few side dishes. Do you want some?”

Yuanbao nodded.

Qi Beinan brought the bowl to the bedside and fed him by the spoonful.

When he’d eaten, Qi Beinan carried him to wash, then changed the bedding before lying down beside him in clean robes.

Yuanbao nestled in his arms, glancing up at the faint shadow of his collarbone beneath the nightclothes. In a quiet voice, he asked, “Did I do badly?”

Qi Beinan lowered his eyes to meet his. “Why would you think that?”

“When I said it hurt, you stopped. I thought I spoiled your mood.”

Qi Beinan made a thoughtful sound, the tone drawn out. “A little.”

Yuanbao stared up at him in disbelief. “You’re too honest,” he said, pouting slightly, brows furrowed.

“Well,” Qi Beinan said lightly, “you asked, and I answered truthfully.”

Yuanbao huffed. “Then—then I didn’t enjoy it either. It wasn’t pleasant at all.”

Qi Beinan raised a brow. “Nonsense. I know you better than that.”

Yuanbao had no reply for that and only pouted more.

Qi Beinan laughed softly and brushed a kiss across his lips.

“I only meant my own part,” he said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. If I wanted full satisfaction, how could you endure it your first time? I’d rather stop halfway than see you hurt.”

Yuanbao pressed his lips together, saying nothing, then shifted closer, curling against Qi Beinan’s chest, seeking his warmth.

“I’m sleepy. I want to rest.”

Qi Beinan drew him close, his voice warm and indulgent. “All right, sleep.”

The faint scent of bath herbs lingered on Xiao Yuanbao’s skin, soft and clean. Qi Beinan breathed it in, brushing his nose lightly against him.

He hadn’t been the least bit tired, yet before long both their breathing settled into a steady rhythm.

A peaceful night’s dream.

The next morning, Qi Beinan woke to the dull ache in his arm.

Opening his eyes, he saw Yuanbao still asleep in his arms and couldn’t help smiling.

Pulling the curtain aside just a little, he saw that the room outside was already bright with daylight.

He rarely woke this late; normally he rose before dawn. But today was different.

He slipped his arm back around Yuanbao, drawing him in again. Translated on hololo novels. So this, he thought, is what people mean when they say that tenderness makes men lazy.

Still, if life could go on like this, he wouldn’t complain.

There were no in-laws to pay respects to, so Qi Beinan stayed in bed, content to lie beside his sleeping spouse.

When Yuanbao finally woke, the sun was already high.

He washed up, ate breakfast, and then joined the others in the garden—Xiao Hu, Jiang Fulang, Bai Qiaogui—all drinking tea and chatting in the spring sunlight.

The flowers and greenery were in full bloom, the courtyard lively and full of color.

“When I married,” said Bai Qiaogui, teasing, “I only slept half an hour past dawn. Even then I had to rush to pay my respects to my in-laws. You, on the other hand, sleep until the sun’s halfway across the sky.”

She strolled beside Yuanbao through the garden, inspecting the new house.

“And your Lord Qi spoils you too—sleeping just as late! Truly, people like you make the rest of us look bad.”

Yuanbao’s cheeks reddened. “You make it sound as if life with Lord Luo is pure misery. Yet from the look of you—rounder cheeks, brighter complexion—you seem to be doing very well.”

“I didn’t say I was suffering,” Bai Qiaogui laughed. “I’m just saying your days are even better.”

Then, with a playful grin, she pinched Yuanbao’s waist. “You’ve grown sharp-tongued! I remember a little boy who used to hide behind others when strangers came by. Maybe that wasn’t you at all, and I’ve mistaken the child?”

Yuanbao winced. “You’re remembering wrong.”

Bai Qiaogui saw how he flinched from even that gentle pinch, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Looks like your Lord Qi is quite formidable. You’re sore just from a little touch.”

Yuanbao glanced around quickly, making sure no one else was near, then slapped her hand with a red face. “When did your mouth get so wicked?”

She laughed. “If anyone’s wicked, it’s not me. Why don’t you scold him instead of me? Always picking the soft target.”

Knowing he couldn’t win an argument against Qiaogui, married nearly half a year now and far more practiced at teasing, Yuanbao let the matter drop.

“Your wedding was such a fine affair,” Qiaogui said, softening. “A pity Xin Ge’er couldn’t come.”

Yuanbao nodded. “He wrote to me. It’s too far from the capital—one trip would take a month or more. Even if he could come, I’d have told him not to go through the trouble. His heart’s what matters, and business keeps him busy.”

Qiaogui sighed. “He’s quite something, that one. Since he started working, he’s been unstoppable—ran the Mu family clean out of competition.”

The two talked and wandered for a long while, but halfway through the tour, Yuanbao grew tired.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to keep her company; his body still ached from the night before. What had only been fatigue yesterday had become soreness everywhere now. Even lifting his arms felt like effort—especially in the places most tender to touch.

Seeing his discomfort, Qiaogui stopped teasing. She went out and had two herbal prescriptions written for him to keep on hand.

She stayed three more days in the capital before taking her leave.

Yuanbao was reluctant to part, but he couldn’t ask her to stay longer. She had a home and husband now; it wouldn’t be right to linger elsewhere.

After she left, he found himself missing the old days more than ever.

Back then, visiting her had been easy—a short ride from the village, or just a few streets’ distance when they both lived in town.

Now they lived far apart; even writing letters took effort, let alone seeing each other often.

So he packed food and fabric as gifts for Qiaogui to take back to Lantian County, tokens of his affection and gratitude.

Another week passed before Xiao Hu came to tell them he planned to return home as well.

“You’ve barely been here!” Yuanbao protested. “Why are you leaving so soon? Isn’t this your home too?”

“It is,” Xiao Hu said, trying to soothe him. “But the air here is too dry. My lips and nose feel parched every day. And summer’s coming—it’ll be worse then.”

Yuanbao said nothing, his expression sulky.

Xiao Hu looked helplessly at Qi Beinan, hoping for help.

Qi Beinan met Yuanbao’s pursed lips and dared not side with either of them. “Father, stay a little longer. If the dry air bothers you, I’ll have Qin Jiang fetch some tonic herbs from the apothecary.”

Now it was Xiao Hu’s turn to look displeased.

Qi Beinan pressed his fingers to his brow. Truly, he thought, there was no winning between the two of them.

Seeing this, Qi Beinan said, “If Father leaves, Jiang Fulang will surely follow him back. Once they’re both gone, Xiaobao will be left here all alone—it’ll be far too quiet. How about this: if Father insists on going, try to persuade Jiang Fulang to stay.”

Xiao Yuanbao’s brows lifted. “That’s a fine idea. If you’re set on leaving, then convince my teacher to stay. If you can’t, then you’ll both just have to stay in the capital a bit longer.”

Xiao Hu froze. “You want me to persuade Jiang Fulang?”

“Can my mouth persuade anyone?”

“Isn’t that Father’s job?” Yuanbao said, feigning innocence. “One or the other—you choose. Otherwise, I won’t agree to it. I’ll tell Qin Jiang to hide your horse and see how you plan to leave then.”

Xiao Hu felt as though he’d stumbled into a den of schemers—coming in was easy, but getting out was another matter entirely.

Since there was no reasoning with his son, he could only give in.

When he went to see Jiang Fulang, he blurted out awkwardly, “Why don’t you stay?”

Jiang Fulang blinked at him. “You’re the father and you won’t stay yourself. What would I stay for?”

“It’d be good if you did,” Xiao Hu said. “You could manage the business here in the capital.”

“I couldn’t live like that,” Jiang Fulang replied dryly. “I’m not suited for a life of bird cages and teahouses.”

“You don’t know how lucky you are,” Jiang Fulang continued, glancing sideways at him. “Plenty of people would give anything for that kind of peace, but you can’t even enjoy it.”

“I’ll enjoy it when there’s a grandson to spoil,” Xiao Hu said with a grin. “For now, you stay here. It’s not as if there’s much waiting back in the village.”

Jiang Fulang had been in the capital long enough to see clearly what was in Qi Beinan and Xiao Yuanbao’s hearts. How could he not understand?

For them to care about him like this—how could he not be moved?

“I’ll think about it,” he said at last.

Xiao Hu left it at that.

Two days later, Jiang Fulang came to speak with Qi Beinan and Xiao Yuanbao. “I’ll stay,” he said. “I’ll help Bao Ge’er look after the pickled goods business. But I won’t live here.”

Qi Beinan frowned slightly. “Why not? It’s convenient to stay in the residence. Living elsewhere would only make things harder.”

“I’ve lived alone for many years,” Jiang Fulang said. “I’m used to it.”

Qi Beinan looked toward Yuanbao for his opinion.

Yuanbao thought a moment and nodded. “So long as Teacher stays in the capital, it doesn’t matter where you live—we’ll still be close enough to take care of one another. The business shouldn’t always be run from the house anyway. I was thinking of renting a small shop. It could serve both as a workspace for making pickled goods and a storefront for selling them. You could even live there if you liked. Would that suit you?”

Jiang Fulang nodded. “That’ll do.”

By late April, the weather was mild and clear—neither hot nor cold, perfect for travel.

Qi Beinan and Yuanbao saw Xiao Hu off at the city gate.

When he had first arrived, there had been laughter and joy; now, as he departed, the air was tinged with quiet reluctance.

The lively noise of parting, like all bright moments, faded quickly—peace and stillness made up most of life.

Leaning lightly against Qi Beinan, Yuanbao watched the carriage disappear down the road. His heart felt much the same as it had long ago when he’d watched Qi Beinan leave—but this time, there was a different kind of calm beneath the ache.

On their way back, he looked up at the eaves where swallows darted and remembered a blessing once spoken at a spring banquet: “May we meet again, year after year.”

He and Qi Beinan now lived like those swallows—together every morning and evening—yet even so, he still wished his family could be near as well.

But he knew everyone had their own path, their own desires. Such things couldn’t be forced; they had to follow the heart.

Qi Beinan tightened his hold on Yuanbao’s hand. “Life is long,” he said softly. “Let’s take our time and live it well. One day, there’ll be another reunion, even better than this.”

Yuanbao smiled and nodded. He thought the same.

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