Ch 51: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

The next morning, Han Qingshan and the others were cleaning the courtyard while waiting for Jiang Ji to arrive.

But before he came, two craftsmen showed up, hauling a cart of bricks, sand, and lime.

Han Qingshan asked curiously, “Who are you looking for?”

One of them replied, “Are you Han Qingshan?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Oh, we were sent by Jiang Ji from Shanqian Village. He asked us to build two ovens. My surname’s Zheng—this is my apprentice. Just show us where the kitchen is; they’ll be along shortly.”

Hearing they were sent by the master, Han Qingshan led the two to the back kitchen.

By late morning, they saw Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan arrive, pushing a cart full of ducklings.

Han Qingshan came to greet them. Jiang Ji glanced at him—his beard was shaved, his hair neatly combed, and he looked completely different from the disheveled man of yesterday. Though still subdued, he clearly had regained some spirit now that he had work to do.

Jiang Ji was pleased.

Han Qingshan took hold of the cart. “Old master (t/n: a title for head of household), a craftsman named Zheng arrived with bricks. He said you sent for him. Is that right?”

“Ol- old master?”

Jiang Ji froze at the title. “What did you just call me?”

“Old master,” Han Qingshan said hesitantly. “Didn’t you say your father passed away and you’re head of the household now?”

Jiang Ji scratched his head. “Just call me ‘young master.’ Don’t call me ‘old master’—makes me sound like an old man.”

Han Qingshan: “…”

Jiang Yan: “…”

He couldn’t help laughing. Jiang Ji glared at him. “What are you laughing at? You’re older than me. If I’m an old man, so are you.”

Jiang Yan shook his head, still smiling.

Han Qingshan caught on to his meaning and corrected himself obediently. “Yes, young master.”

“That sounds much better.” Jiang Ji nodded in satisfaction. “Master Zheng is the one building my ovens at home—I asked him to come help build the roasting ovens here. Also, these ducklings—just leave them in the courtyard for now. I’m taking them back to the village later. And that sack of potatoes—move it to the kitchen.”

Han Qingshan called a few people over to move the ducklings and potatoes to the kitchen.

Jiang Ji took a look around the courtyard. Everyone was busy sweeping and organizing. Han Qingshan’s apprentice, Yu Yang, was trimming the plants, looking much more energetic than before.

“Settled in all right?” Jiang Ji asked.

“Yes,” Han Qingshan replied. “We bought everything we needed yesterday afternoon, replaced the locks, and finished cleaning the kitchen.”

“Good. Let’s go take a look.”

They headed to the kitchen.

When Zheng saw them, he asked, “Young master, where do you want the ovens built?”

“Hold on, let me take a look first.” Jiang Ji entered the kitchen.

It was spacious, with several stoves already cleaned spotless, everything neatly arranged—pots, bowls, utensils, and even seasonings all stocked and ready.

Since Jiang Ji had said he would be testing their cooking today, Han Qingshan had taken two helpers to the market early in the morning to buy plenty of ingredients, now neatly laid out on the counter.

The kitchen was roomy, but adding two more ovens would make it cramped.

Roasting ovens generated a lot of heat, so ventilation was important.

Jiang Ji looked over at the adjacent storeroom—spacious enough. “Master Zheng, how about building them here? Just like the one at my house. And can this window be changed to open outward? The current prop-up style doesn’t ventilate well.”

Zheng examined the space. “Yes, that’ll work. I’ll start here, then.”

“Perfect.”

With the spot decided, Master Zheng and his apprentice got to work.

Jiang Ji turned back to Han Qingshan. “Uncle Han, gather everyone.”

When they’d all assembled, Jiang Ji stood before them and said, “I have only three rules.”

Everyone perked up to listen.

“First,” Jiang Ji said seriously, “no breaking the law.”

“Second, no betraying me or my family. I hold grudges.”

“Third, character matters more than skill.”

He looked at them all. “Once you enter my household, you’re part of it. Do your job well, and that’s enough. But let me be clear: you can be ordinary, even mediocre—most people are—but your conduct must be upright. No matter how talented you are, if you’re greedy, disloyal, or ungrateful, I won’t tolerate it. Those are my only three rules. Remember them well.”

Han Qingshan was the first to answer. “Yes, young master.”

The rest echoed in unison, “Yes, young master.”

Jiang Yan, watching from the side, couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips.

After setting the rules, Jiang Ji asked, “Right now, the ones who can cook are Uncle Han, Yu Yang, and Sister Guihua, correct?”

Everyone nodded. Translated on Hololo novels. Then a young man in his early twenties named Ding Xiaojun raised his hand. “Young master, I’ve helped in kitchens before—I can handle knife work.”

Two other women spoke up. “We can cook too, though we’ve never trained professionally—just home cooking, nothing as good as Sister Guihua’s.”

“Good,” Jiang Ji said. “Then show me what you can do. Those who can cook, make two of your best dishes. The rest of you help with washing, cutting, or tending the fire. Let’s get busy.”

Han Qingshan quickly assigned the tasks, and everyone got to work—even Sister Guihua’s little boy, Xiao Yi, was helping wash vegetables.

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan dragged out two chairs to sit by the kitchen door, set down a pot of tea and a small plate of melon seeds, snacking as they watched and observed how each person worked.

“Don’t forget to cook rice too,” Jiang Ji reminded them. “It’ll be lunchtime soon—let’s all eat together.”

Han Qingshan answered, “Yes, young master.”

After about half an hour of busy work, Jiang Ji washed his hands and took two packets from the bag he had brought — one of dried chili peppers and one of fresh red and green peppers — along with a few potatoes, and began to cook.

Han Qingshan glanced at the packets. “Young master, what are those?”

“Chili peppers,” Jiang Ji replied. “You’ll get to taste them soon.”

He looked at the ingredients laid out on the counter, noticed a basin of fish, and quickly began preparing one. Everyone else was busy, so Jiang Ji called, “Jiang Yan, help me wash some bean sprouts and peel two potatoes.”

Jiang Yan got up and took the bean sprouts to wash, but Ding Xiaojun set down his knife. “Young master, let me do it.”

Jiang Yan said calmly, “No need. You handle your part.”

Ding Xiaojun looked between the two of them, thinking these young masters were nothing like the ones he’d served before.

What kind of young master cooked in the kitchen himself?

And from the way Jiang Ji moved, he clearly wasn’t new to it.

Han Qingshan kept glancing over too, surprised at how deftly Jiang Ji filleted the fish.

“Young master, you can cook?” Ding Xiaojun finally asked.

“Of course,” Jiang Ji said. “I’m opening a restaurant. Didn’t I tell you yesterday I’d be teaching you all? I have to know it first.”

Before long, everyone who could cook had made two dishes each and set them out. Jiang Ji finished his own two — braised chicken and spicy boiled fish.

“All right! Set the table — time to eat!” Jiang Ji called toward the door. “Master Zheng, come eat!”

Han Qingshan started directing people to carry the food to the main dining hall, but Jiang Ji waved him off. “No need for all that. Just use the side dining room here.”

Everyone hesitated. Han Qingshan frowned. “Young master, the side room is for the servants.”

“It’s fine. Bring it there,” Jiang Ji said.

Seeing that he meant it, Han Qingshan obeyed, and they carried the food to the smaller dining room next to the kitchen.

Once the dishes were on the table, Jiang Ji gestured. “Sit down, everyone, and taste what we’ve made.”

The group looked at one another uncertainly, all eyes turning to Han Qingshan. Eating at the same table as the master? That was unheard of.

But Zheng and his apprentice sat down right beside Jiang Ji without hesitation.

“Sit,” Jiang Ji said, looking around.

Han Qingshan pulled out a stool next to Jiang Yan and sat. Seeing him move, the others followed, though still a bit stiffly.

Jiang Ji sampled each person’s dishes. Han Qingshan’s experience in a wealthy household showed — his food was excellent. His apprentice Yu Yang’s skill was close behind. Sister Guihua specialized in soups — her dishes were a little simpler but homely and good. The remaining two women’s food had a plain, home-style flavor.

“This pigeon soup by Sister Guihua is great — fresh and sweet. Yu Yang’s clear broth meatballs are good too. Uncle Han, yours is the best — the fish is tender and not at all fishy. The other two ladies’ cooking is fine too — it can improve.”

After his comments, Jiang Ji added, “Everyone, try each other’s dishes — and mine too. The chili might be new for you, so I made it mild this time. You’ll get used to it.”

Seeing them all hesitant to touch his dishes, Jiang Ji smiled. “Today’s for tasting. Except for Master Zheng and his apprentice, everyone must try every dish and tell me your top three.”

At that, everyone started eating.

The two dishes Jiang Ji had made sat in the center. Han Qingshan tried the spicy boiled fish first. He had made a steamed version himself earlier and had watched Jiang Ji prepare this one, so he was curious.

He picked up a piece of fish and tasted it. The meat was tender and smooth, with no trace of fishiness. Then came a numbing, fiery heat that shot straight to his head.

“This flavor—” Han Qingshan smacked his lips and drew in a breath.

“That’s chili. The spicy taste,” Jiang Ji said. “How is it?”

Others had also tried the fish and the braised chicken, and all looked amazed.

Though Jiang Ji had used little chili, the braised chicken was rich — tender meat soaked in mushroom, potato, and pepper flavor, savory and aromatic. The mushrooms gave it depth, the potatoes were soft, and the gentle spice made it irresistible.

The spicy boiled fish was even better — the flesh melted in the mouth, and even the bean sprouts underneath became addictively flavorful.

Yu Yang’s eyes lit up. “Young master, this tastes incredible!”

Ding Xiaojun nodded eagerly. “It’s amazing! I’ve never eaten anything this good!”

Jiang Ji turned to Han Qingshan. “Uncle Han, what do you think?”

“Delicious,” Han Qingshan said, nodding. “I can’t compare.”

Jiang Ji shook his head. “These two dishes aren’t that hard. You’re just tasting chili for the first time — that’s what makes the flavor pop. You’ll pick it up quickly.”

Han Qingshan thought for a moment. “Young master, can we get chili regularly? If we’re opening a restaurant, we need something unique to stand out. I’ve heard that Xiangmanlou is the finest restaurant in town, always full of guests.”

“You’ve already asked about Xiangmanlou?” Jiang Ji looked surprised, and Jiang Yan gave Han Qingshan a glance.

Han and Yu Yang were from Huawen County; their former master had sold them here out of fear they’d take revenge.

Han Qingshan nodded. “We heard about it yesterday while shopping. Since our restaurant will also be on North Street, like Xiangmanlou, we’ll need something distinctive. Otherwise, we won’t last long against them.”

“Exactly,” Jiang Ji said approvingly. “That’s why we’ll rely on uniqueness. First, the chili — they won’t get it anytime soon. Second, I’ll create entirely new dishes that don’t exist here yet, and I’ll teach you all. Our strength will be originality.”

Hearing this, Han Qingshan relaxed slightly. “As long as young master has a plan.”

“Of course. I never go into battle unprepared.” Jiang Ji grinned, then turned to Zheng. “Master Zheng, you’ll have to keep this secret for us.”

“What are you all whispering about? We can’t hear a thing,” said Master Zheng, shaking his head. “But if you keep talking, we’ll finish all the food.”

Everyone laughed and went back to eating.

The two large bowls of dishes Jiang Ji had made were soon wiped clean—every last drop of the sauce was mixed into rice and eaten up.

After the meal, Master Zheng and his apprentice returned to building the roasting ovens. Jiang Ji rested for a while, then had Jiang Yan write down the recipes for the braised chicken and spicy boiled fish and hand them to Han Qingshan.

“The ovens will need a couple more days before we can use them,” Jiang Ji said. “In the meantime, you all should learn these two dishes. At least the five of you who can cook must know them by heart.”

Han Qingshan took the paper and nodded. “Understood.”

That afternoon, Jiang Ji had Han Qingshan practice first. Once he mastered them, he could teach the others, so Jiang Ji wouldn’t have to supervise every day.

The two dishes weren’t difficult. Han Qingshan had already watched Jiang Ji make them once and remembered some of the steps. With Jiang Ji’s pointers, he mastered both dishes after making each twice.

Jiang Ji turned to Jiang Yan with a sigh. “Having a real chef makes things so much easier.”

Jiang Yan nodded. “But they’ll need a lot of ingredients to practice.”

“That’s how it is with cooking,” Jiang Ji said. “It’s a necessary expense—an investment.”

By mid-afternoon, the two prepared to return. They loaded the ducklings back onto the cart, and Jiang Ji took Han Qingshan to the restaurant so he could familiarize himself with the place and change the locks.

The restaurant’s old manager, Lü, was still there. Jiang Ji had hired him through Wang Song and introduced the two men to each other.

“For now,” Jiang Ji said, “Manager Lü will oversee the renovation schedule. As for the kitchen area, I’ll discuss the plans with you in detail tomorrow, Uncle Han. You’ll need to see how things go and whether the layout suits you. Come here after breakfast tomorrow.”

Han Qingshan nodded. “All right.”

After giving instructions, Jiang Ji prepared to leave. Han Qingshan walked them to the door, but as they were about to go, he called out,

“Young master.”

“Hm? What is it?”

Han Qingshan hesitated for a moment, then voiced the question that had been weighing on his heart. “My apprentice and I were left at the broker’s house for over a month. No one dared to take us. Aren’t you afraid?”

Jiang Ji blinked. “Afraid of what?”

Han Qingshan lowered his gaze. “We were sold because we beat our former master’s son. The brokers always tell buyers, so anyone who knows our story won’t hire us.”

Jiang Ji asked, “Do you think you were wrong? That you hit the wrong man?”

“Of course not!” Han Qingshan lifted his head, eyes burning with fury. His fists clenched tight. “That beast deserved to die! My only regret is that I didn’t kill him.”

Seeing the anger in his eyes, he quickly dropped his gaze again, worried Jiang Ji would think ill of him.

“Yeah,” Jiang Ji said quietly. “I think you were right to hit him.”

Han Qingshan’s head shot up, disbelief written all over his face. “Young master… what did you just say?”

“I said you weren’t wrong,” Jiang Ji repeated. “If someone did that to my family, I’d have done the same.”

Han Qingshan froze. His chest felt like it had been struck—hard—and his heart thudded painfully.

“You’re… you’re not afraid?”

“Why would I be? I’m not that young master, and you haven’t done anything against me. What’s there to fear?”

Han Qingshan’s nose stung; he swallowed hard. “Thank you, young master.”

Jiang Ji patted his shoulder. “But, Uncle Han, I don’t agree with you going to kill him.”

Han Qingshan was startled.

“There are many ways to take revenge,” Jiang Ji said. “Throwing your own life away for trash like that isn’t worth it. I hope you understand that.”

Han Qingshan gave a bitter smile. “My life isn’t worth much. If I could take his with my own hands, it would be worth it.”

Jiang Ji frowned, his voice turning sharp. “I didn’t bring you here just so you could go get yourself killed.”

“I know,” Han Qingshan said. “Once I’ve repaid your kindness, then I’ll go.”

“And what about Yu Yang?” Jiang Ji said. “I heard he has no family left. You raised him yourself, didn’t you?”

Han Qingshan paused. “He’s a good boy. I’ll make arrangements for him.”

“And your daughter?” Jiang Ji pressed, frowning. “The broker said you have an eight-year-old girl. You’re just going to leave her?”

Han Qingshan froze, his voice roughening. “She was sold to someone else. I don’t even know where—maybe to Pingnan or somewhere nearby.”

“If I can help you find her, will you promise not to throw your life away?” Jiang Ji asked.

Han Qingshan’s head snapped up. He grabbed Jiang Ji’s arm, eyes wide. “Young master—you can help me find Xiang’er?”

“I can try,” Jiang Ji said. “But you have to promise me—no more talk of dying for revenge. Find another way to settle your score.”

Han Qingshan thought for a long moment, then nodded firmly. “All right. I promise. Just please, young master—help me find Xiang’er. I only need to know where she is, whether she’s safe.”

Hearing his agreement, Jiang Ji let out a small sigh of relief. “I’ll have someone look into it for you.”

“Thank you, young master. Thank you! Let me bow to you!” Han Qingshan said, about to kneel, but Jiang Ji quickly pulled him up.

“Do your best to train everyone well—that’s thanks enough.”

“I will,” Han Qingshan said earnestly. “I swear I will.”

After getting all the details about Xiang’er, Jiang Ji went straight to the brokers’ office and found Wang Song. He paid him to help investigate the matter.

Wang Song agreed immediately.

That night, after everyone had gone to bed, Han Qingshan still sat alone under the eaves, lost in thought.

Yu Yang came out and called, “Master, it’s late. You should rest.”

Han Qingshan looked at his apprentice. “In a moment. You go ahead.”

“What are you thinking about?” Yu Yang sat down beside him.

“Our new master,” Han Qingshan said.

Yu Yang thought for a while and said, “Master, I think our new master is different from others. He’s actually teaching us his cooking skills himself.”

There’s a saying: When the master teaches the apprentice everything, the master starves.
In this world, anyone with a craft guards it closely. Only after taking on a disciple will they teach anything—and even then, some masters won’t pass down their true signature skills, let alone to outsiders.

But Jiang Ji taught them all directly—and not just one or two, but an entire group.

“He really is different,” Han Qingshan said. “Today I asked him if he wasn’t afraid of me and you, since we were sold for beating our former master. Do you know what he said?”

“You actually asked him that?” Yu Yang’s eyes widened, curiosity getting the better of him. “What did he say?”

“He asked me, ‘Do you think you were wrong?’” Han Qingshan said. “I told him I wasn’t. And then he said, ‘I think you weren’t wrong either.’”

“He really said that?” Yu Yang was stunned.

Han Qingshan nodded. “Yes. He even said that if it were him, he would’ve done the same.”

Yu Yang was speechless.

Han Qingshan went on, “He also said he’d help me look for Xiang’er, and that if I wanted revenge, I should find another way—not throw my life away.”

“He can find Xiang’er?” Yu Yang asked excitedly. “Master, do you really think the young master can find her?”

“I don’t know,” Han Qingshan said softly. “But I hope he can.”

“He definitely can, master. The young master will find Xiang’er—I’m sure of it.”

“…I hope so.”

*

Every day, Jiang Ji was busy—buying ducklings, overseeing the restaurant’s renovation, adjusting the stoves, teaching Han Qingshan’s group to cook, tasting and critiquing dishes.

Master Zheng and his apprentice finished building the two ovens in two and a half days and spent another half day fixing the windows.

The larger oven still needed drying time, but the smaller one could be used after two or three days.

Jiang Ji made roast duck for Han Qingshan and the others, explaining each step as he went. When the duck came out perfectly roasted, the aroma alone left everyone speechless.

Only then did Han Qingshan realize that one of Jiang Ji’s trump cards for his restaurant was this roast duck.

“What do you think?” Jiang Ji asked.

Everyone nodded enthusiastically. “It’s amazing!”

Jiang Ji turned to Han Qingshan. He nodded too, eyes bright. “Yes! This roast duck will surely become our restaurant’s signature dish—it’ll spread across the land!”

Jiang Ji smiled, pleased.

That afternoon, Jiang Yan arrived unexpectedly—with Wang Song and a little girl in tow.

“Father!”

Han Qingshan was in the kitchen, learning how to prepare duck from Jiang Ji, when he suddenly heard a familiar voice.

He looked toward the door, froze for a moment when he saw the little girl, and then rushed forward to scoop her into his arms.

“Xiang’er!”

“Father—!”

As soon as Xiang’er saw him, she burst into tears. All the fear and worry she had bottled up spilled out as the two clung to each other, sobbing.

The girl was indeed Han Qingshan’s daughter, Xiang’er. She had been sold to a household in Pingnan County. Wang Song had tracked her down and redeemed her.

Everyone watching the reunion was moved—Sister Guihua, especially, wiped at her eyes.

After the father and daughter cried for a while, Han Qingshan brought her over to Jiang Ji, knelt, and said, “Xiang’er, kowtow to the young master. He’s the one who sent someone to bring you back.”

Xiang’er immediately obeyed and bowed deeply before Jiang Ji, so fast he didn’t even have time to stop her.

Han Qingshan’s voice trembled with emotion. “Young master, thank you. My daughter and I will serve you faithfully for the rest of our lives.”

Yu Yang also knelt. “And me as well. Thank you, young master, for bringing Xiang’er back. I’d give my life for you if needed.”

“All right, all right, I understand,” Jiang Ji said quickly, helping them up. “You’re family now—go spend time together.”

“Yes, thank you, young master.” Han Qingshan washed his hands and took Xiang’er outside, still holding her hand tightly.

Yu Yang lingered. “Young master, I…”

“Go on.”

“Ah—thank you, young master!” Yu Yang grinned and darted off after them.

Jiang Ji went out to ask Wang Song about the details. Wang Song explained, “The girl was bought to serve as a maid for a young lady. She’s quick-witted, and they were pleased with her—at first, they wouldn’t agree to release her. But when they heard you wanted her, they relented. I redeemed her for the original five taels of silver—no extra charge.”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Which household in Pingnan was it?”

“The magistrate’s family,” Wang Song said.

“The magistrate’s?” Jiang Ji raised his brows. “She was sold there?”

“Yes,” Wang Song said. “Honestly, I didn’t have much hope—it’s not easy dealing with someone of that rank. But then I remembered you’d visited Pingnan before to sell the rice seeds, and the magistrate probably knows of you. So I mentioned your name, and after that, they agreed.”

“I see,” Jiang Ji said. “I’ll write a letter of thanks later. And thank you for your work on this, Wang Song.”

“No trouble at all, young master. If you ever need anything, just say the word—I’ll handle it for you.”

Jiang Ji patted his arm. “Good. I’ll be counting on you again soon. Keep an eye out for a suitable shop for me—something spacious, two floors, good location.”

“I’ve been watching for one,” Wang Song said. “Nothing ideal yet, but I’ll inform you as soon as something comes up.”

He returned the remaining money to Jiang Ji, who gave him one tael as a tip. Wang Song left beaming.

It was getting late, so Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan headed home.

On the way, Jiang Yan said, “Looks like you’ve completely won Han Qingshan over.”

“Yeah,” Jiang Ji said with a smile. “It’s good to see a family reunited.”

Jiang Yan looked at him. “Why do you sound so sentimental?”

Jiang Ji rubbed his nose. “Because I’m a kind-hearted, softhearted person, obviously. I can’t stand seeing families torn apart.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Jiang Ji glanced at him, raising a brow. “What? You disagree with that statement?”

“…No,” Jiang Yan said, giving him a wry look. “You are softhearted. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have taken in someone who might’ve been sold for killing his enemy.”

Jiang Ji, worried that the conversation might stir up old memories, blinked and said, “Actually, the main reason I saved you is that you’re handsome.”

“I’m handsome?” Jiang Yan raised an eyebrow. “You took me in because I’m handsome?”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Yeah. If you were a little uglier, I’d have sent you to live with the physician instead.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

“Hahaha, did you actually believe that?” Jiang Ji burst out laughing and patted his shoulder. “I’m kidding. Even if you weren’t handsome, I’d still have taken you in.”

Jiang Yan arched a brow. “But sending the ugly ones to the physician’s house—that part was the truth, wasn’t it?”

“Who says so? Do I look like that kind of person? I’ve got such a soft heart.”

Jiang Yan gave him a long look, the corners of his lips lifting ever so slightly.

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