Ch 96: Reborn to Raise My Husband

A few days later, the twelfth month arrived.

The capital was already steeped in the festive air of the New Year. On the very first day of the month, shops lining both sides of the streets began hanging red lanterns.

The designs were varied—no longer just the traditional round red lanterns. The restaurant on one corner hung two square silk ones; next door, the silk shop had a pair of eight-sided palace-style lamps. The shop after that, not wanting to be outdone, displayed elegant fan-shaped lanterns.

Every household tried to outshine the next. Even before the festival arrived, the streets dazzled with color and light.

Xiao Yuanbao sat in the carriage returning home, never once lowering the curtain. Lanterns of every kind lined the streets; some he had never seen even at the county’s Lantern Festival. Truly, the capital was in a league of its own.

He had been run off his feet lately, working day and night to make pickles.

Business was booming—by morning, they would send out several dozen jars, and by noon, they’d all be gone. On any given day, they sold no fewer than eighty jars, and on better days, more than a hundred.

He was astonished. It was the sheer size of the capital’s population that made such steady sales possible. In a county town, no matter how good business was, there would never be so many buyers.

Of course, selling more meant consuming more ingredients. Every couple of days, they were buying over ten catties of snow cabbage and dried bamboo shoots.

He began calculating and sent word to negotiate with the two shops that supplied him. From now on, he would buy exclusively from them, in bulk, and see if that could earn him a discount.

It wasn’t hard to bargain. Each shop cut two copper coins off the original price. Buying in volume meant he could save even more over time.

Next, he went to the pottery shop. Until now, the jars had cost two coins each.

He had been buying by the hundreds—each trip meant over two hundred coins for the shopkeeper. These were simple jars, not fine porcelain that sold for strings of cash per set, but such large orders were steady and reliable. A stable trade could be as profitable as luxury goods.

After some back-and-forth, the potter offered three jars for five copper coins and even agreed to inscribe the name “Xiangdangdang” on each.

Still not satisfied, Xiao Yuanbao had Qin Jiang negotiate again—three coins for two jars, with the same inscription. In return, they would tell customers that the jars came from that pottery shop and praise their quality.

Seeing mutual benefit, the potter agreed.

Xiao Yuanbao leaned back in the carriage, feeling pleased.

This trip had cut costs significantly. Their pickles, which used to earn twelve to fifteen coins per jar, would now bring in an extra one or two.

One or two coins didn’t sound like much, but across a hundred jars, that meant a hundred or two hundred coins more.

Small ventures had to be tight-fisted to turn a profit.

Back home, he went into the storeroom and began clicking his abacus.

After twenty-some days of business, even after expenses, they had earned thirty strings of cash.

Looking at the tidy profit, he felt certain—business was the true way to make money.

But joy quickly turned to worry. He hadn’t expected the pickles to sell so well, and their stock of mushrooms was running low.

He wrote a letter home, asking them to send more.

That, however, would take time—and cost a fair bit in transport.

Qin Jiang, who had worked with an escort company, explained: to send a full cart of goods from their county to the capital, even with connections, would cost ten strings at least.

If it was only a few crates, not a full cart, the company wouldn’t take it unless the route matched another job. In that case, it could be cheaper, just a few strings—but that kind of luck was rare.

Hearing this, Xiao Yuanbao felt uneasy.

Even though transporting mushrooms from home would still be cheaper than buying them in the capital, it would certainly raise costs.

That day, he had bought fermented beans to make a new flavor of oil pickle—partly to expand their offerings, partly to stretch out their remaining mushroom supply until more arrived.

Leaning back in his chair, he tilted his head and sighed. This was his first time running a business—full of pleasant surprises, but one problem after another, too.

Some of these issues, he realized, could have been foreseen. With foresight, he could have prepared solutions earlier.

Take the mushrooms, for example—the most important ingredient. He had a good stock at first but never thought about what to do when it ran out.

He hadn’t planned to turn this into a long-term trade anyway. It had started as something to pass the time in winter and earn a bit of spare money for the household.

He figured once he used up his stock of mushrooms, the business would naturally end.

But now, with profits this good, how could he possibly stop?

And since he’d already secured favorable prices for his ingredients and jars, there was no reason to give it up halfway.

Sitting in the storeroom, he scratched his cheek, deep in thought about how to strengthen the business.

Later that evening, Qi Beinan returned home and happened to meet the post courier on the way. There was a letter for them, which he carried inside.

Qi Beinan saw Xiao Yuanbao still scratching his cheek in the storeroom.

“Boss Xiao, what has you so troubled?”

Xiao Yuanbao didn’t tell him right away that their mushroom stock was running low. The man had just returned from a long day’s work, hadn’t even had a sip of hot tea yet—how could he pile on more worries about household matters?

“I’m doing the accounts,” he said instead. “Now that business has grown, the bookkeeping isn’t as easy as before. I regret not studying arithmetic properly.”

Qi Beinan tapped him lightly on the forehead. “You only realize the worth of learning when you actually need it.”

“Enough of that. Come look—I’ve finished your new boots.”

Xiao Yuanbao put his things down and led Qi Beinan into the room. From the couch, he took out a pair of tall deerskin boots.

Qi Beinan ran a hand over them. “Let’s see how they fit.”

Xiao Yuanbao had him sit, then knelt to help him try them on.

He pulled aside the old shoes, and a pair of large feet appeared—Qi Beinan was tall and lean, and his feet were correspondingly long. Xiao Yuanbao held one up and realized it was nearly the length of both his hands together.

“As the saying goes, big feet travel far. Your father named you ‘Beinan’—north and south. Seems that saying suits you perfectly.”

Qi Beinan looked down at him. “Now that you’ve made me shoes, you’ve trapped me. I won’t be walking north or south anymore.”

Xiao Yuanbao gave the boot a playful pat. “So now it’s my fault, is it? Go on, walk a few steps—see if they pinch.”

The leather was supple, reaching mid-calf, snugly tucking in his trousers. No matter how he moved, they wouldn’t slip off.

The soles were thick to resist water and mud, and the inside lined with soft short fur—barefoot, they were both warm and plush.

Qi Beinan turned this way and that, clearly pleased.

“They’ll do well enough with both court robes and casual wear.”

Xiao Yuanbao looked satisfied too. Qi Beinan was already handsome, and the new boots made him even more striking.

After pacing a few circles, Qi Beinan asked what the leather had cost.

“Less than five strings of cash,” Xiao Yuanbao said. “I found some cheaper scraps—not whole hides, so the price wasn’t high.”

Even so, five strings for a pair of boots was hardly cheap.

“I figured since the pickles brought in some silver, I’d spend a little of it to buy the leather for you,” he added.

Qi Beinan teased, “So now I’m eating soft rice, am I?”

They both laughed over it before remembering the letter.

Opening it, they saw it was from home. They read it together.

When Xiao Yuanbao finished, his expression changed at once. “Shameless! The teacher’s the one who suffered, and the villagers, instead of defending him, dare spread such vile gossip!”

It turned out that earlier that autumn, with more banquets being held in the countryside, Master Jiang had gone out to cater an event. There, a man from another village had taken a liking to him.

After hearing that Jiang had been widowed for years and lived alone, the man decided he wanted to marry him.

When winter came, he even sent a matchmaker—but Jiang refused.

Ordinary people would have let it go. But this man, seeing that Jiang looked young for his age, skilled in his craft, and capable of earning silver, grew spiteful when rejected.

He snuck into Jiang’s house and hid, then suddenly jumped out half-dressed while visitors were present, hoping to ruin Jiang’s reputation so that he’d be forced to marry him.

The village gossips seized on it, tongues wagging until Jiang’s name was blackened.

Village head Zhao was furious and went to demand justice, but the shameless man claimed it was Jiang who had invited him in.

When Xiao Hu heard of it, he sent two strong men to lie in wait. They caught the scoundrel outside and gave him a beating he wouldn’t forget.

A rogue like that couldn’t be reasoned with—but a few bruises taught him better manners.

Though the man later came forward to admit the truth and apologize, the matter didn’t quiet down. The gossip still lingered behind closed doors.

Whenever there was a gathering, people whispered.

Master Jiang, being quiet and sensitive, grew disheartened under their stares. He stopped attending banquets and had stayed home for many days.

Village head Zhao, worried, wrote to Xiao Hu—asking Xiao Yuanbao to send a letter in turn, fearing Jiang might fall into despair.

The more Xiao Yuanbao read, the angrier he became.

“I could tear that man to pieces! How could anyone be so shameless? The teacher’s been alone for years. Even when I was little, plenty tried to arrange matches for him—good, decent families too—and he refused every one. And now this worthless old bachelor dares set his sights on him, stooping to such vile tricks?”

“He soils a good man’s name and still dreams he’ll marry him—ridiculous!”

Qi Beinan’s brow tightened. “Trouble always comes to a widower’s door. Even with Village Head Zhao watching out for him, there are still snakes with filthy thoughts—thinking that winning Jiang means gaining the Zhao family’s favor as well.”

He fell silent a moment, then said, “It’s hard to comfort someone face-to-face, harder still by letter. When Ming Guanxin’s household sends the dowry items to the capital, why not write to Master Jiang and ask him to come along with the merchant convoy? Let him attend our wedding banquet. It might lift his spirits. After being shut up in that tiny village for so long, even the most cheerful soul would fall ill from the strain.”

Xiao Yuanbao’s brow lifted slightly. “Then why don’t we just have him stay in the capital for good? It’ll spare him from the gossip back in the village. He could help manage the pickle business too—I’m sure he’d settle in fine.”

Qi Beinan thought it over. It wasn’t a bad idea. In the capital, they had no relatives or elders around; having Master Jiang there would mean one more person to rely on.

Whether he’d agree or not was another matter, but it was worth bringing him first. He could help them with the wedding preparations, and if he stayed long enough, perhaps they could persuade him to remain.

Xiao Yuanbao then told him about the mushroom shortage and the need to arrange more shipments. The two discussed it well into the night.

Once they had decided everything, they wrote a reply and sealed it with some silver, sending it home by fast courier.

By the last day of the twelfth month—New Year’s Day—the Ming family’s caravan arrived in the capital.

Outside, snow was falling thickly, and everyone was bundled up tight against the cold. Faces were wrapped in scarves and hoods so that only eyes could be seen.

“Teacher!”

When Xiao Yuanbao saw Master Jiang stepping down from the carriage, wrapped thickly in furs, he ran forward like a sparrow taking flight and threw his arms around him.

“You’re not a child anymore—still acting like this!”

Though he scolded him, Master Jiang couldn’t hide his own joy. He unwound the cloth from his mouth, and his breath came out in a puff of white mist.

“I missed you so much,” Xiao Yuanbao said brightly. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come to the capital.”

“How could I not?” Master Jiang said warmly. “You’re my only disciple. You’re marrying Lord Qi—I wouldn’t miss it, no matter how far the road.”

He glanced at Xiao Yuanbao, then at Qi Beinan. “It’s colder up north, but the journey went smoothly.”

Qi Beinan said, “That’s what matters most. Xiaobao’s been worrying for days—seeing you arrive safely is better than anything.”

“Teacher, come inside quickly,” Xiao Yuanbao urged. “It’s freezing out here. I bought plenty of food—we’ll have a proper New Year’s Eve feast together, not spend the holiday on the road.”

Qi Beinan stayed behind to handle the caravan and the goods. He had the merchants brought inside for hot tea and a warm meal before sending them on to the new house. The workers still needed to unload and arrange the furniture.

Along with household furnishings came the mushrooms, New Year supplies, and two mushroom cultivators that Tian Kun had trained.

Xiao Yuanbao and Qi Beinan had discussed transport costs earlier and finally decided to bring the two growers from home. They had already found ten mu of land in the capital’s outskirts to start mushroom and vegetable cultivation. That way, they’d never have to worry about supply again and could live much as they had back in the county.

The land, however, hadn’t yet been purchased. Farmland near the capital was costly—ten mu would run at least three hundred strings of cash.

After buying their house, they didn’t have spare funds. The property in Linzhou hadn’t sold yet.

Recently, Tienan had written that Yunping Ward had been designated by the prefecture as a night market area. Shops there had sold out in just over a month, with prices doubling.

Merchants were still lining up to lease space, and even their old broker had inquired if they were willing to rent out their property.

Following Qi Beinan’s instructions, Tienan held off. He wanted to wait until the night market was fully thriving—then they could rent the place at a higher price. There were already plenty of eager tenants, but no need to rush when rent could rise further.

As for the furniture ordered from the Ming family, the total came to four hundred strings. They’d already explained that payment would come later, once their funds loosened up. With their longstanding relationship, it wasn’t an issue.

Though everything was a bit tangled for now, they managed to juggle funds and push each matter along step by step. Once things settled into rhythm, they’d no longer feel so strained.

That night, the capital was alive with fireworks and firecrackers bursting endlessly in every direction.

The night sky bloomed with color—fireworks flaring over the dark rooftops, brilliant and breathtaking.

Inside their warm house, Master Jiang, Xiao Yuanbao, and Qi Beinan shared a bubbling hotpot for their reunion meal.

It had been a long time since Xiao Yuanbao had last seen his teacher, and he couldn’t stop talking, asking after everyone at home.

“Your father wanted to come too,” Master Jiang said, “but he couldn’t leave the estate. He’s healthy, though he still feels pain in the bone that bear injured years ago whenever it snows. My cousin’s been telling him not to be stingy with charcoal—keep the brazier lit through winter and take care of himself, so you two can rest easy here in the capital.”

“He doesn’t listen to much,” Master Jiang added with a smile, “but when I mention the two of you, he does.”

Qi Beinan then asked about Zhao Guangzong. “How is he doing?”

“Well,” said Master Jiang. “Since returning from the capital, he’s grown steadier. When a cousin in the clan caused trouble in the autumn, he handled it neatly. He’s managing the family’s fields and trade on his own now.”

Hearing that everyone back home was doing well filled both Xiao Yuanbao and Qi Beinan with quiet warmth.

In the first month of the new year, Qi Beinan had several social obligations. His colleagues at the Hanlin Academy invited him to banquets, and it wouldn’t do to decline. The Ministry of Works also sent invitations—he was stationed there now, and since his work was solid and his relations good, he was well-liked.

Meanwhile, Xiao Yuanbao stayed home, organizing gifts to send in return.

Minister Zhang loved his wine, so they prepared a gift that was neither too cheap nor too costly; Minister Wang’s household was modest, so sending something extravagant would only burden him and make the return gift awkward; Minister Wu’s family, on the other hand, was wealthy, so the present had to be distinctive—something thoughtful enough to catch his attention.

Master Jiang stood beside him in the storeroom, watching Xiao Yuanbao skillfully sort through the gifts and their recipients, speaking with precision and tact. He truly had grown up.

Xiao Yuanbao sighed. “If only that were all I had to manage. But I’ve still got the business to look after too—and not just checking accounts. I have to do the work myself.”

“What business still needs you to work with your own hands?” Master Jiang asked.

Xiao Yuanbao explained the pickle trade. “We’ve spent so much preparing for the wedding and buying the house that money’s tight. I thought I’d start a small business to earn some grocery money, but it ended up doing well—too well to step away from.”

“If I had someone reliable to help me watch over things, I wouldn’t have to run in so many directions. But in the capital, with no family or friends, there’s really no choice.”

He didn’t ask Master Jiang outright to stay and help manage the business—just spoke lightly, letting the idea settle in his mind.

If he pushed too soon, the man might resist, feeling cornered. Then, even if they mentioned it later, it would only make things awkward.

Besides, how presumptuous would it sound—claiming it was “for Master Jiang’s good” just to keep him there?

So he let the matter rest and instead invited Master Jiang to come see the wedding garments he had finished.

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