Author Archives: Thandar

Ch 45: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

The matchmaker aunt laughed and nodded. “That’s right! You must be thrilled, huh?”

Jiang Ji opened his mouth, momentarily speechless. Do I look thrilled to you? he thought silently.

The matchmaker gave him a long look, examining him from head to toe. The young man was handsome, with clear eyes and good features—though a bit tanned, but what farmer wasn’t? He looked healthy, energetic, and quite impressive.

She nodded to herself in satisfaction.

She’d thought about matchmaking for him before, but back then his family’s situation had been too poor. Forget a dowry—they could barely fill their stomachs year-round. No decent family would want their daughter to marry into hardship. But now, things were different. His family had clearly earned money from selling seeds, their living conditions were improving, and a new house was under construction. Every household within ten miles that had a marriageable daughter had begun to take interest.

In just the past few days, she’d met with seven or eight families who wanted her to arrange a proposal. She’d even brought along portraits of the girls to show him. If this match succeeded, her matchmaker’s fee would be a fine one indeed.

Seeing Jiang Ji too stunned to speak, she chuckled and said to Zhao Ru, “Look at him—completely dazed.”

Then she smiled at Jiang Ji. “What’s the matter, feeling shy?”

“Um, Auntie,” Jiang Ji said, putting his carrying pole by the door. “I’m still young. No need to rush this kind of thing.”

“Young? You’re nineteen already! That’s not young at all. At your age, most men are already married—some even have kids running around!” she said cheerfully, walking beside him. “Now’s just the right time. If we find a good match and get engaged soon, we could start preparations this fall. Who knows—if things move fast, your mother might hear good news before the new year.”

Jiang Ji blinked. “Good news?”

The matchmaker giggled behind her hand. “Oh, you silly boy—what other good news? Your mother getting a grandchild, of course!”

Jiang Ji: “…”

Zhao Ru actually did hope for a grandchild and smiled. “Xiao Ji, before, we couldn’t think about marriage because our family was struggling. But now things are better—it’s time to consider it.”

Jiang Ji rubbed his nose nervously. Sorry, Mother, he thought. You’ll probably have to wait another ten years. Maybe when Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei marry—or even when Xia’er does in six or seven years—you’ll get that grandchild, or at least a grandchild-in-law.

“Come on, Jiang Ji,” the matchmaker urged happily. “I brought plenty of portraits of young ladies—they’re all very lovely. Take a look, see which one catches your eye.”

At the kitchen door, Jiang Yan had just finished washing his hands. He glanced toward the main room, poured out the water, then went to pick through a small basket of shepherd’s purse greens. Sitting on a low stool, he began trimming the roots absentmindedly.

Inside the main room, the matchmaker’s enthusiastic voice floated out. “Jiang Ji, come look at this one! Your mother’s already seen her. This girl’s name is Helan—she’s fifteen, from Luoping Village five miles away. Pretty face, big eyes, sharp chin, very lively, and she’s quick with her hands—such a diligent worker. Look, isn’t she adorable?”

Her voice was full of flattery, painting the girl as if she were a blooming flower.

A moment later, Jiang Ji’s voice followed: “Auntie, she’s a wonderful girl…”

Jiang Yan’s hands stilled for an instant. His eyes dropped as he snapped off another root and tossed it into the basin.

“Right? I told you she’s a great one,” the matchmaker said eagerly. “Beautiful, the right age for you, and strong too—why, I bet you’d be cradling two babies within three years!”

“Uh, no,” Jiang Ji interrupted hastily. “Auntie, she’s very nice, but we’re not suitable.”

Jiang Yan lifted his gaze slightly toward the main room. Inside, the matchmaker sounded puzzled.

“What’s not suitable? I think she’s perfect for you!”

In the room, Jiang Ji scratched his head awkwardly under his mother’s questioning look and the matchmaker’s eager eyes. He searched for an excuse and said, “She’s… really not suitable. She’s not even an adult yet!”

“She’s already of age—past hairpin ceremony, perfectly marriageable,” the matchmaker said, eyeing him thoughtfully. She slapped her thigh and pulled out another portrait. “Ah, I see, you like someone older! Here—this girl’s seventeen. Look at that oval face, elegant and proper—you’ll like her, I’m sure.”

Jiang Ji: “…”

Before she could unroll another portrait, he sighed. “Auntie, you don’t need to go through the trouble. I’m not planning to marry right now.”

“What? Not planning to marry?” The matchmaker stared at him, stunned. “But you’re nineteen!”

Jiang Ji smiled. “Exactly—only nineteen. Still young.”

“Most boys your age already have children who can run and talk!” she insisted, turning to Zhao Ru for support. “Nineteen’s the perfect age, right, Jiang Ji’s mother?”

Zhao Ru was torn. She was worried about her son’s marriage, but hearing him say he wasn’t ready made her hesitate. “Xiao Ji, you really don’t want to marry yet? Don’t want to bring home a wife?”

Jiang Ji shook his head. “Mother, I’m just nineteen. There’s still so much to do at home—I’m not in a hurry.”

The matchmaker, skilled at reading faces, quickly adjusted her tone. “Alright, if you don’t want to marry this year, then at least get engaged. You can marry next year. Engagement first, wedding later—it’s all the same.”

Zhao Ru thought that seemed reasonable. “Xiao Ji, why don’t you look anyway? We could at least set an engagement?”

Jiang Ji waved his hand. “No need, Mother. I really don’t want to think about this now.”

The matchmaker looked between them and sighed. “This child—how can he be so calm about it? Sister, you need to push him a little!”

She tried one last time, speaking earnestly. “Listen, these girls are all excellent choices. I’ve already screened them carefully before bringing their portraits. Once a girl’s of age, she can’t wait too long—you miss the chance, and it’s gone.”

“Auntie, I know they’re all good girls,” Jiang Ji said sincerely. “So please, find them good husbands. Don’t let me hold them back.”

The matchmaker: “…”

Seeing her son’s firm tone, Zhao Ru fell silent, thoughtful. Finally, she smiled and said, “Since Xiao Ji isn’t interested right now, we’ll wait a bit longer. Thank you for coming all this way, sister.”

Still unwilling to give up, the matchmaker asked, “Then tell me, Jiang Ji—what kind of girl do you like? I’ll keep an eye out.”

Jiang Ji paused, smiled politely, and said, “No need, Auntie. When the time comes, I’ll ask you myself. I’ll go wash my hands now.”

With that, he turned and left the main room for the kitchen.

That rejection was about as clear as it could get. The matchmaker watched him go, sighed, and then leaned toward Zhao Ru. “Sister, he’s nineteen—don’t let him drag his feet. A man only settles down after he has a family. There are plenty of eyes on good girls like these—you’d better act quickly.”

Zhao Ru looked a little worried. “Alright, I understand. Thank you for the trouble.”

The matchmaker aunt gathered up the portraits of the girls and stepped into the courtyard. Spotting Jiang Yan picking vegetables, she called out cheerfully, “Ah, you must be Jiang Yan, right? Have you married yet?”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Jiang Ji, who was washing his hands nearby, laughed. “Auntie, he’s lost his memory. For all we know, he might already be married. Better not worry about him.”

“Oh, I see, I see. Well then,” the matchmaker chuckled, “if you ever remember that you’re still single, come find me—I’ll find you a lovely wife.”

After seeing the matchmaker off, Jiang Ji glanced at Jiang Yan, poured out the water, and sat down on a small stool to help him with the vegetables.

When Zhao Ru came back after walking the matchmaker out, she crouched beside her son and grabbed his arm. “Xiao Ji,” she asked softly, “be honest with your mother—do you already have a girl you like?”

Jiang Ji: “…”

Jiang Yan gave him a sidelong glance, then pulled over another small stool. “Auntie, sit down.”

Jiang Ji glared at him. You’re not helping at all—why are you offering her a seat?

Jiang Yan merely met his gaze calmly and continued picking vegetables in silence.

Zhao Ru sat down. “Come on, tell me. If you’ve got someone you like, I’ll have the matchmaker go talk to her family.”

Jiang Ji shot Jiang Yan another glare, then lowered his head and said, “Mother, I don’t have anyone I like.”

Jiang Yan flicked a glance his way, listening as Zhao Ru pressed on. “Then why didn’t you look at the portraits just now? I thought maybe you already had someone in mind. I checked on those girls—each one is a fine match.”

Jiang Ji sighed. “Mother, I really don’t want to think about marriage right now. I just want to focus on the fields, finish building the house, and make more money.”

“When do you plan on getting married, then?” she asked.

He looked at her, not wanting to lie but knowing the truth would upset her. “We’ll see later,” he said finally. “I’m only nineteen.” Then he quickly changed the subject. “Mother, let’s eat. I’m hungry.”

Zhao Ru looked at her son for a long moment before sighing. “Alright, I’ll cook.”

As she went inside to wash rice, Jiang Ji turned to Jiang Yan, punched him lightly on the arm, and muttered through gritted teeth, “You looked way too amused back there.”

Jiang Yan raised an eyebrow, eyes glinting faintly. “You looked pretty happy watching me too?”

Jiang Ji: “…”

He studied Jiang Yan’s expression—it was the same as always. Grumbling, he said, “You always have the same face. Who could even tell if you’re happy or not?”

Jiang Yan: “…”

He glanced up briefly, then lowered his eyes again, slowly plucking a yellow leaf off the shepherd’s purse. “You don’t seem very happy,” he said.

Jiang Ji sighed, not replying, and went back to picking in silence.

Jiang Yan watched him for a moment. “Someone came to propose marriage for you. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

Jiang Ji glared at him. “If that auntie had come to arrange a marriage for you, would you be happy?”

“Our situations aren’t the same,” Jiang Yan replied evenly.

Jiang Ji paused, then asked softly, “Tell me honestly—do you think you might really be married?”

Jiang Yan froze slightly and lowered his gaze. “I don’t know.”

“Going by your age,” Jiang Ji said quietly, “you probably are. Maybe you even have kids already.” He glanced at Jiang Yan, suppressing the dull ache in his chest, and forced a smile. “Even if not married, maybe engaged.”

Jiang Yan’s expression flickered, his gaze turning distant. “Who knows.”

Seeing that look on his face, Jiang Ji stopped talking. He sighed inwardly, realizing the question might’ve hit a sore spot.

Before long, Jiang Nan and the others came home from school, filling the house with noise and laughter again.

After lunch, when the younger ones left for class, Jiang Ji went to the main hall. As he did, Zhao Ru, who had just finished washing the dishes, called to Jiang Yan, who was returning from the outhouse. “Jiang Yan, come here—I want to talk to you.”

He followed her into the kitchen and rinsed his hands. “What is it, Auntie?”

Zhao Ru glanced toward the hall to make sure Jiang Ji wasn’t nearby, then lowered her voice. “Jiang Yan, you’re close to Xiao Ji, and he seems comfortable talking to you. Could you ask him for me—does he really like someone?”

Jiang Yan paused. “Didn’t he say he didn’t?”

“I know, but I think he’s just too shy to tell me.” Zhao Ru sighed. “He used to be a lively child, but after his father passed, the burden fell on him. He grew quiet, mature too early, always bottling things up so I wouldn’t worry. Only recently has he started smiling again.”

She hesitated, her voice softening. “You don’t know—back when he was fifteen or sixteen, he liked a girl from our village. She was a year younger. But our family was so poor then, we couldn’t afford a dowry. He never told me, but on the day she married, I saw him standing far away watching her carriage leave—his eyes were red. That’s when I realized.”

Her eyes grew misty as she spoke. “It’s my fault, really. I couldn’t earn enough to help him marry the one he liked.”

After a moment of silence, Jiang Yan said gently, “I understand, Auntie. I’ll try to ask him when there’s a chance.”

“Good, good.” Zhao Ru nodded quickly. “You two are close in age, and he trusts you. He’ll probably talk to you more easily.”

Then she added, hesitating slightly, “And… if—and I mean if—he still hasn’t moved on from that girl, please help me talk some sense into him, alright?”

Jiang Yan lowered his eyes and nodded quietly. “Alright.”

Jiang Ji was napping. When Jiang Yan entered the room, he was already fast asleep—mouth slightly open, brows faintly furrowed, perhaps still thinking about the matchmaking incident.

Remembering Zhao Ru’s words, Jiang Yan stood by the bedside for a while before turning away. He went back to the main hall and began copying down the planting notes.

…

That afternoon, when Jiang Ji woke up, he went to the back hill to check on the house construction progress. He didn’t return until after dinner, when everyone was getting ready for bed.

As usual, Jiang Ji was in the courtyard muttering to himself about something, probably talking to his mysterious “viewers.” Jiang Yan, not wanting to eavesdrop, stayed by the hall doorway and called out to him first.

“Jiang Ji.”

Jiang Ji was in the middle of chatting with the audience in his livestream room. They were still discussing the matchmaking incident from that morning—a lively crowd offering all sorts of advice on how he could gently, tactfully, and step-by-step help Zhao Ru accept the fact that he liked men, not women.

【That’s going to be tough. In ancient times, the idea of continuing the family line is deeply rooted—it won’t be easy for her to accept.】
【Take it slow. Start by subtly mentioning stories about same-sex couples—like news or rumors—and observe her reaction before deciding what to do next.】
【If nothing works, you can just tell her directly that you feel no attraction to women and can’t carry on the family line.】
【Or try another angle—start feeding her the idea that “happiness in life matters most.” She’s your mother; surely she wants you to live happily rather than miserably.】

The chat scrolled fast, and Jiang Ji, now thoroughly exasperated, read every comment carefully and replied back and forth with them. He was still deep in thought when he heard Jiang Yan call his name.

“You done washing up?” Jiang Ji looked up. Sitting on his little stool, he was just about to stand when he saw Jiang Yan walking over. “Are Jiang Nan and the others asleep?”

“Yeah. All asleep.” Jiang Yan brought out another stool, set it beside him, and sat down.

Jiang Ji eyed him curiously. “You out here to admire the moon too?”

Jiang Yan glanced at the waxing moon overhead. “Mm. The moonlight’s nice tonight.”

Jiang Ji: “…”

He gave Jiang Yan a look. “You’ve got something to say, right?”

Jiang Yan hesitated, then replied, “This afternoon, Auntie asked me to check something for her.”

“What thing?”

Turning his head toward him, Jiang Yan said quietly, “She wanted me to ask if there’s a girl you like—but you’re not telling her.”

Jiang Ji blinked. “Didn’t I already say I don’t?”

“She doesn’t really believe that. She said you once liked a girl but kept it to yourself. She’s afraid you’re making the same mistake again.” Jiang Yan met his eyes. “Is that true?”

Jiang Ji froze. A girl he liked before? He thought back—yes, the original Jiang Ji had one.

His first love. Back then, his family had been too poor, and he’d felt unworthy—afraid he couldn’t give her a good life. So he’d buried his feelings, never confessed, and eventually watched her marry someone else.

He’d heard she was doing well now—happily married, with a young daughter.

Jiang Ji: “…”

Jiang Yan noticed his silence. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Jiang Ji rubbed his nose. “It’s all in the past.”

So, that meant yes. Jiang Yan continued, “And now? Do you like anyone?”

Jiang Ji sighed. “No one.”

“Still can’t forget the girl from before?”

Jiang Ji shook his head. “No. She’s got a kid already.”

Jiang Yan gave him a measured look. “You turned down the matchmaker today, said you don’t want to marry. Auntie thinks either you’ve got someone you like or you’re still hung up on that girl.”

“Neither,” Jiang Ji said with a sigh. “If I liked someone, I’d just say it. It’s not about that.”

Jiang Yan raised a brow slightly. “Then what is it?”

Jiang Ji looked at him, opened his mouth, then sighed again, saying nothing as he stared up at the night sky.

Jiang Yan was quiet for a moment. “Is it something you can’t tell me?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then?”

The crescent moon hung like a silver hook, soft light hazy and thin between them. Their faces were half-shadowed, unreadable.

Still, Jiang Ji looked at Jiang Yan and said softly, “I’m afraid I’ll scare you.”

Jiang Yan raised a brow. “How would you know unless you tell me?”

Seeing the mild disbelief on his face, Jiang Ji let out a small laugh. “Reverse psychology won’t work on me.”

“I’m just stating a fact,” Jiang Yan said calmly.

Jiang Ji sighed again, lowering his eyes to the shadows cast by their feet. “Well, it’s not like I can’t tell you.”

Jiang Yan’s gaze was steady, waiting for his truth.

Jiang Ji scratched his head, thinking for a while before finally lifting his eyes. “Jiang Yan… I don’t have a girl I like—and I never will.”

Jiang Yan frowned slightly, not understanding. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Jiang Ji said with a small shrug, completely straightforward, “I don’t like women.”

Jiang Yan froze. He hadn’t expected that answer.

Jiang Ji tilted his head. “What’s wrong? Did I scare you?”

After a brief silence, Jiang Yan said, “But you liked a girl before.”

Jiang Ji blinked, mind blanking for a second. Right—the original Jiang Ji had liked a girl. Now to Jiang Yan, didn’t that make him look like someone who couldn’t make up his mind? One day liking women, the next liking men—must seem unreliable.

He scratched his head awkwardly, fumbling for words. “Uh… well, that was when I was young. Didn’t really understand feelings back then. Later I realized it didn’t… work.”

Jiang Yan: “Didn’t work how?”

“…” Jiang Ji was speechless. “Come on, what else could ‘didn’t work’ mean for a man?”

Jiang Yan: “…”

He went quiet for a long while, then asked, “Auntie doesn’t know, right?”

“She doesn’t. I’m afraid she couldn’t handle it. Haven’t talked to her about it yet.” Jiang Ji thought for a bit, then added, “Anyway, there’s plenty to do right now—no rush.”

Jiang Yan nodded slightly. “Makes sense. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have asked me to bring it up.”

Jiang Ji paused, studying the side of his face. “Do you… mind?”

“No,” Jiang Yan said evenly.

Eh? No?

Jiang Ji stared at him for a few seconds, genuinely surprised. There wasn’t the slightest trace of disgust or discomfort on Jiang Yan’s face. “Really don’t mind? You can tell me honestly if you do.”

Jiang Yan shook his head. “I don’t mind.”

“Really?”

“Mm.”

Jiang Ji let out a small sigh of relief. “Good. I was afraid I’d scare you off.”

After a pause, he turned his head again. “Do you want me to switch sleeping spots with Jiang Bei tonight?”

Jiang Yan paused, meeting his gaze calmly. “If you’re uncomfortable, then switch.”

Jiang Ji chuckled. “Why would I be uncomfortable? I was just worried you might be.”

“I’m not.”

“Alright then.”

They sat quietly for a while, the faint moonlight washing everything in a soft glow. After a moment, Jiang Ji spoke again, lowering his voice. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“What?”

Jiang Ji glanced toward the main hall, then covered his mouth slightly and whispered, “Do you like men or women?”

Jiang Yan gave him a look. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t know?” Jiang Ji blinked. “You don’t even know your own orientation?”

“Orientation?”

“Sexual orientation,” Jiang Ji explained, keeping his voice low. “As in, whether you like men or women. You’re not exactly young—how can you not know?”

Jiang Yan replied evenly, “I have amnesia.”

Jiang Ji: “…”
Right. He even forgot his sexuality. That’s… something.

“Well,” he said, “even with amnesia, your instincts are still there, right? Maybe you don’t consciously know if you like men or women, but your body should be honest about it.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Jiang Ji leaned in curiously. “So? When you see a pretty girl, do you feel anything?”

Jiang Yan cast him a sidelong glance. “Do you feel something the moment you see someone attractive?”

“Come on, I’m asking about you,” Jiang Ji said, exasperated. “And besides, I already told you I like men—how would I feel anything for a girl?”

Jiang Yan said calmly, “I meant—do you feel something when you see a handsome man?”

“Of course not,” Jiang Ji said, looking at him. “Falling for someone at first sight happens, sure, but it’s not like every good-looking guy makes my heart skip a beat. There’s more to it than just looks, okay?”

He stopped mid-thought, realizing Jiang Yan had steered the conversation away. “Hey, wait—don’t change the subject. You still haven’t answered my question.”

Jiang Yan’s lips curved slightly. “What question?”

Jiang Ji glared at him. “When you see a beautiful woman, do you feel moved or not?”

Jiang Yan looked straight at him. “Curious?”

“Very,” Jiang Ji admitted with a nod.

Jiang Yan shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

“Hm.” Jiang Ji propped his chin on his hand, thinking deeply. After a long silence, he shook his head. “That still doesn’t prove anything. You might like men, or maybe you just don’t care for anyone right now.”

Jiang Yan didn’t respond, simply watching him quietly.

Jiang Ji thought for a while longer, then sighed. “Ah, this is pointless. Maybe you already have a wife somewhere and just don’t remember. No need to stress over it. Forget it—I’m going to take a bath. You should get some rest too.”

He patted Jiang Yan’s shoulder, stood up, and carried his small stool inside.

Jiang Yan watched his back disappear through the doorway, then turned his eyes toward the hazy moonlight. He sat there lost in thought for a long while, until Jiang Ji came back out after bathing and called him to go to bed. Only then did he finally stand and head inside.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

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.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Ch 43: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

Zhao Ru was in the courtyard spreading rice seeds to dry. The ground was covered with door planks and mats, all laid with grains—just as Jiang Ji had instructed before leaving. He had told her to sun-dry the seeds over the next few days.

From afar came the sound of horse hooves. She craned her neck toward the gate. These days, any sound outside would make her rush to look, always hoping it was Jiang Ji returning.

“Mother, we’re back!”

It was Xiao Ji’s voice!

Zhao Ru ran to the gate—and sure enough, there were Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan on horseback.

“Xiao Ji, Jiang Yan, you’re back!” she said joyfully, hurrying forward to greet them.

Jiang Yan dismounted and held out his arm for Jiang Ji, who steadied himself on it and jumped down.

“Mother!” “Auntie.”

“Yes, yes.” Zhao Ru responded, her voice trembling with emotion. She held Jiang Ji’s arm, looking him up and down, her eyes glistening. “It’s good you’re home—so good. You’ve lost weight… you must be exhausted, haven’t you?”

“I’m fine, really.” Jiang Ji grinned brightly.

After traveling through several counties in just over ten days, how could he not be tired? Zhao Ru’s heart ached. “You’ve gotten thinner and still say you’re not tired.”

Jiang Ji laughed. “Maybe a little, but seeing you makes all the tiredness go away.”

That made Zhao Ru smile. Then she looked at Jiang Yan. “Jiang Yan’s thinner too. You must have worked hard.”

“It was alright,” Jiang Yan replied with a small smile.

“Now that you’re both home safe, I can finally relax.” Seeing them healthy and sound, Zhao Ru’s heart settled. “Come in and rest. I’ll make something good for lunch.”

“Great, Mother! I want meat!”

“Alright.” It was about mealtime anyway, so Zhao Ru clapped her hands and went into the kitchen to cook.

Jiang Yan tied the two horses to the post beside the cattle pen and fetched some dry grass to feed them.

The pen was empty. “Auntie, did someone borrow the ox?” he asked.

“Tu Gen borrowed it,” Zhao Ru called from the kitchen. “He was worried you wouldn’t make it back in time, so he helped plow the seedling field yesterday. Today, he borrowed the ox again to plow his own.”

“Uncle Tu Gen helped us plow the paddy? I’ll go thank him later.” Jiang Ji put their bundles down in the main room, glanced at the rice seeds drying in the yard, and went into the kitchen. “Mother, how many days have the seeds been drying?”

“This is the third day. You said to start the day before yesterday, so that’s when I began. The whole village has been drying theirs too—everyone’s waiting for you to come back.” Zhao Ru poured the washed rice into the pot and started the fire.

Jiang Ji poured himself a cup of water. “Then we can stop after today. We’ll start soaking them tomorrow.”

Jiang Yan came in after tending the horses. Jiang Ji handed him a cup of water, which he took and drank.

Then Jiang Ji filled a basin and took out their toothbrushes and towels to wash up.

Zhao Ru kept the fire going and began washing vegetables by the doorway.

After a quick wash, the two men sat side by side at the threshold to rest.

“Home really is the best,” Jiang Ji sighed contentedly.

Away from home, one could never truly relax—always alert, always tense. Only back here could they finally let their guard down.

Zhao Ru looked at the two of them. She wanted to ask about Jiang Yan’s search for his family, but since he had returned with Jiang Ji, it likely meant there’d been no success. She decided to ask Xiao Ji privately later.

Instead, she changed the subject. “How many counties did you visit?”

“Six. We sold all the seeds…” Jiang Ji briefly summarized the journey, then patted the pouch at his waist, which bulged with silver notes. “All the money’s here, plus two IOUs. The rest should arrive in a few days.”

Zhao Ru smiled and nodded. “Your first long trip, and you spent it all working—you didn’t even get to enjoy yourself.”

“True, but we still walked around the county towns. They’re all pretty similar to ours in Changping. Oh, and we couldn’t bring back most local snacks—they’d spoil—but Pingnan had these really good pastries. We bought a few packs before leaving this morning.”

He opened a bundle and took out the pastries. “Mother, these are red bean cakes from there. They’re different from ours—look, try one, they’re delicious.”

The red bean cakes were neatly layered and cut into small squares, looking soft and pretty.

Curious, Zhao Ru picked one up and took a bite. It was tender, chewy, and sweet. Her eyes curved into a smile. “It’s very good.”

“Right? I knew you’d like this kind.”

Her son, away from home yet still thinking to bring back her favorite pastries—Zhao Ru’s heart felt warm and content.

Not long after, Uncle Tu Gen came back, driving the ox, and the village chief stopped by too. Many had seen Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan riding in and came to greet them.

In the courtyard, Jiang Ji thanked him. “Uncle Tu Gen, Mother said you helped plow our seedling field. Thank you so much.”

“Ah, no need for that—it was nothing.” Tu Gen drove the ox into the pen, tied the gate, and smiled. “It’s good you’re back. Your mother’s been worried about you every day.”

“Mm, we’re fine.”

The village chief smiled. “I was worried you wouldn’t make it back in time for planting.”

Jiang Ji sighed. “We rushed as fast as we could to get everything done—barely made it. Village Chief, please let everyone know the rice can stop drying after today. Tomorrow morning, we’ll start soaking the seeds.”

“Alright, now that you’re back, we can all relax,” the chief said with a nod. “Oh, and the county magistrate said that when you return, you should visit him when you have time. Also, the villages around us started drying seeds on the same day as we did. The magistrate already sent notices to the other counties, but maybe you should stop by this afternoon and talk with him about it?”

“Sure. I’ll do that—and I’ll return the horses while I’m there.”

After finishing their talk, Jiang Ji handed each of them a packet of pastries to take home and try.

At noon, Jiang Xia and the twins, Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei, came back from school. The moment they entered the yard and saw Jiang Ji, the two little ones shot forward like cannonballs.

“Brother!”

“Brother! Brother Jiang Yan!”

“Big Brother, you’re home!”

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei wrapped their arms around Jiang Ji’s waist, looking up at him with bright, excited smiles.

Jiang Ji ruffled their hair. “You two haven’t gotten into trouble or made Mother angry, right?”

Jiang Nan shook his head. “No! I’ve been really good.”

“I’ve been good too,” Jiang Bei added proudly. “I even made sure Jiang Nan finished his homework.”

“Yeah? Not bad. I’ll give you both a reward later.”

Jiang Ji turned and smiled at Jiang Xia, who beamed. “Brother!”

“Xia’er.” Jiang Ji reached over and patted her head too.

“Wow, horses!” Jiang Nan spotted the two brown-red horses tied near the cattle pen and immediately let go of Jiang Ji, running toward them. “Jiang Bei, come on! Horses!”

Jiang Bei was already running after him. The two of them stood before the tall horses, eyes wide with excitement.

“They’re so big!”

“Yeah,” Jiang Bei said, “do you wanna ride one?”

“Of course! Don’t you?”

“I do.”

They exchanged a glance, then turned toward their older brother in unison.

“Brother! We wanna ride the horses!” Jiang Nan shouted.

“Don’t look at me—I don’t know how,” Jiang Ji said, refusing immediately. “Ask Jiang Yan.”

During the trip, Jiang Ji had been too busy to learn, except for a little free time back in Pingnan.

The two little ones ran to Jiang Yan. Jiang Bei tugged his sleeve. “Brother Jiang Yan, can you take us riding? Please?”

Jiang Yan was checking the rice seeds. He glanced at them, then nodded. “Alright.”

The saddles were still on, so he lifted each boy up onto one horse and reminded them, “Hold on tight.”

“Okay, I got it!” “Me too!”

Jiang Nan sat in front, gripping the handle; Jiang Bei sat behind him, arms around his brother’s waist. Both looked nervous and thrilled.

Jiang Yan led the horse out of the courtyard and took them for a slow walk around the village, drawing a crowd of children.

A friend called out, “Jiang Nan, are those your horses?”

Jiang Nan shouted back proudly, “No! They’re borrowed!”

“Is riding fun?”

“Yeah! It’s really fun—it’s so high up!”

Their faces glowed with excitement.

None of the village kids had ever ridden a horse before—only Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei had.

The brothers puffed out their little chests, brimming with pride.

After circling the village, Jiang Nan remembered that Jiang Yan had once ridden fast with Jiang Ji and begged, “Brother Jiang Yan, can you make it run too?”

So Jiang Yan took each boy in turn onto the main road and let the horse trot briskly. They didn’t return until Jiang Ji came calling for lunch.

“Brother, when we have money someday, let’s buy a horse too,” Jiang Nan said eagerly from the saddle.

Jiang Ji nodded. “Sure. Having a horse really is convenient—way faster than walking.”

Jiang Bei frowned. “But… how long will that take?”

Jiang Ji scratched his head. “Not too long. The main thing is, we don’t have room for one right now. We’d need to build a stable first.”

Jiang Bei gave him a look. “Big Brother, we don’t even have the money yet, and you’re already talking about building a stable.”

Jiang Ji: “…”

Back home, Jiang Ji called out, “Come inside—I brought you some treats!”

“What kind of treats?” Jiang Nan asked excitedly, dashing into the kitchen.

“You’ll see. But wash your hands first.”

The pastries were already laid out on the table. Jiang Nan spotted them immediately. “Pastries! Jiang Bei, look! Pastries!”

They washed their hands and started tasting them. Besides red bean cakes, Jiang Ji had brought two other kinds.

“Well? How is it?” he asked.

“Delicious!”

“Sweet and yummy!”

Zhao Ru laughed at the sight. “Don’t eat too much—you’ll ruin your appetite for lunch.”

“I can still eat!” Jiang Nan patted his belly proudly. “I can eat two bowls!”

Jiang Ji pinched his cheek and teased, “You little glutton. Haven’t seen you in half a month, and you’ve gotten chubbier.”

Jiang Nan giggled. “Mother says chubby looks good.”

Before, everyone in the family had been pale and skinny. Now that life was better, Zhao Ru wanted nothing more than to feed her children till they were round and healthy.

That afternoon, the family shared a warm reunion meal. As he ate, Jiang Ji sighed. “Home-cooked food really does taste the best.”

Zhao Ru smiled tenderly, piling more meat into both Jiang Ji’s and Jiang Yan’s bowls. “Eat more, both of you. You’ve lost weight.”

“Thank you, Auntie,” Jiang Yan said politely.

Then Jiang Bei looked up from his bowl and asked, “Brother Jiang Yan, did you find your family?”

Zhao Ru froze. She reached out to stop him, but it was too late—she gave him a quick pat on the arm. “Eat your food—don’t ask random questions.”

She turned to Jiang Yan anxiously. “Jiang Yan, don’t mind him.”

Jiang Bei blinked at his mother, confused why that question wasn’t allowed.

Jiang Nan and Jiang Xia also looked up at Jiang Yan, clearly curious about the same thing.

“It’s alright, Auntie,” Jiang Yan said calmly. “I didn’t find them. We went through six counties, but no one recognized me. I probably don’t come from around here.”

Everyone fell silent. Zhao Ru chose her words carefully and said gently, “When you remember, you’ll know without even searching. For now, just treat this as your home—we’re your family, alright?”

Jiang Yan looked at Zhao Ru, then at the children, all waiting expectantly for his answer. Beside him, Jiang Ji’s eyes sparkled with warmth, his face lit with a quiet smile.

The corner of Jiang Yan’s mouth lifted slightly. He nodded. “Alright. Thank you.”

“What are you thanking us for? We’re all family,” Zhao Ru said with a smile.

Jiang Nan cheered, “Then I’ve got two brothers now!”

Jiang Bei immediately added, “I’ve got three! I win!”

Jiang Nan: “…”

Everyone laughed.

Jiang Ji looked at Jiang Bei. “Jiang Bei, how did you know we were also looking for Jiang Yan’s family?”

He was sure Zhao Ru hadn’t told him.

Jiang Bei tilted his little head. “I heard you talking about it.”

“You heard it?” Jiang Ji was surprised. “How do you manage to hear everything?”

After all, Jiang Bei had been the first to overhear him talking to the livestream audience before—he had even suspected Jiang Ji of talking to himself.

“When you were sleeping,” Jiang Bei said earnestly, “I woke up for a little bit and heard you.”

Jiang Ji: “…”
Jiang Yan: “…”

After lunch, Jiang Xia took Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei back to school. Jiang Ji called Zhao Ru into her room and took out all the silver notes from his pouch, handing them to her.

It was a thick stack. Zhao Ru’s hands trembled as she held it. “How much silver is this?”

“Forty-five thousand taels. The rest—just a few hundred—I’ll keep aside for now; no need to store that away.”

“Forty… forty-five thousand taels?” Zhao Ru’s heart pounded as she stammered. “I never thought I’d see this much money in my lifetime.”

“There are still two counties that haven’t sent their payments yet,” Jiang Ji said with a grin. “We should get them in a few days. Those are larger counties—around twenty-six thousand more taels. And we’ll earn even more later. Mother, let’s put this batch in the safe first.”

“Alright.”

Zhao Ru fetched a shovel, dug up the buried safe, placed the silver notes inside, locked it, and buried it again.

After resting for a while, Jiang Ji went to visit Magistrate Xu—and return the horses.

Since Jiang Ji couldn’t ride, Jiang Yan went with him.

At the county office, they returned the horses and met with Magistrate Xu.

Seeing them safe and sound, Magistrate Xu let out a breath of relief. “Everything went smoothly, I hope?”

“Pretty much. With Lord Chen around, nothing strange happened,” Jiang Ji said, nodding.

“Good.” Magistrate Xu continued, “By the way, after you left, I sent word to the nearby villages. They started drying rice seeds a day later than yours—they’ve been drying for two days now. According to the planting method you wrote, your village should be soaking the seeds soon, right?”

“Yes, we’ll start soaking tomorrow.”

“Alright, then I’ll tell them to start the day after tomorrow.” The magistrate added, “From now on, keep me updated on your progress so I can inform the other villages promptly.”

“Of course. But, my lord,” Jiang Ji said, “while timing matters, some steps depend on actual conditions. For example, during seed-sprouting, you have to look at the germination rate and the length of the shoots. Some sprout faster, some slower—it’s normal. The nearby villages I can personally check on, but the others should follow the written guide to judge by their own results.”

“Understood. I’ll let them know.”

Since this was everyone’s first time using the damp nursery method, most villages preferred to follow Jiang Ji’s schedule closely for safety.

After chatting a bit longer, Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan returned home.

That night, they washed up thoroughly, soaked in a warm bath, and went to bed early.

Lying on his own bed, Jiang Ji sighed with relief. “Finally, I can sleep soundly tonight.”

Jiang Yan’s lips curved faintly. “Mm. Sleep.”

“Mm. Good night.”

Within minutes, Jiang Ji was asleep. Being home made his body and mind finally relax. He slept deeply and dreamlessly until morning, the fatigue of the long journey melting away.

…

The next morning, after breakfast, they began soaking the seeds. Their family had over twenty acres of paddy fields, requiring about two hundred jin of rice seed. Jiang Ji used a large bath barrel to soak them.

Near noon, the bright morning sky darkened suddenly. Clouds thickened, thunder rumbled in the distance—it was going to rain.

Just after lunch, the sky was as dim as dusk. Before Jiang Xia and the twins could leave for school, strong wind swept through, followed by loud thunder. Raindrops the size of beans splattered down, soon turning into a torrential downpour. Water quickly pooled across the ground.

“Good thing we finished drying the rice seeds yesterday,” Zhao Ru said with relief.

Jiang Nan cheered—no school today.

The family sat together in the main hall, watching the rain. Zhao Ru sewed clothes with her needlework basket beside her. Jiang Yan was copying out the planting guide. Jiang Ji called the two little ones over to practice big characters.

Jiang Nan groaned, “But the teacher didn’t assign homework today.”

Jiang Ji didn’t waste a word. “Write.”

Seeing his brother’s serious face, Jiang Nan pouted but spread out his paper reluctantly. Jiang Bei was already grinding the ink for him.

After a short while, a drop of water splashed onto Jiang Nan’s paper. He paused, confused, then another drop landed right on his forehead.

“Ah! It’s leaking!” Jiang Nan wiped his forehead with his palm and shouted, “Mother! Brother! The roof’s leaking!”

The roof was thatched, and as everyone looked up, they saw rain seeping through. Droplets formed one by one before falling down in a steady rhythm.

“Quick, move the table—I’ll get some basins,” Zhao Ru said, putting down her sewing basket and hurrying toward the kitchen. As she ran, she called back, “Go check the other rooms for leaks!”

Jiang Ji moved the little writing table where Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei were practicing, while Jiang Xia had already gone to inspect their room, and Jiang Yan headed into the one he shared with Jiang Ji.

“Our room’s leaking too, Mother! Bring another basin!” Jiang Xia called out. “Brother, help me move the bed!”

Jiang Ji ran in—the leak was right above Jiang Xia’s bed.

Jiang Yan quickly came over to help, and the two of them shifted the bed aside. Zhao Ru brought in a basin and set it on the floor to catch the dripping water.

“The strong wind just now must’ve blown the thatch loose,” Zhao Ru said. “The kitchen’s leaking a little too.”

“Looks like we’ll have to fix the roof,” Jiang Xia said, glancing up. “Brother, is your room leaking?”

“Not yet,” Jiang Yan replied evenly.

Jiang Ji sighed. “You sound like an inspector.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Just as they finished talking, Jiang Bei shouted from the next room, “Brother, our room’s leaking too! Hurry, it’s dripping on the clothes chest!”

Everyone rushed next door—and sure enough, it was leaking there as well.

“I’ll get another basin,” Zhao Ru said, turning to go.

Jiang Yan gestured to Jiang Ji. “Help me lift this.”

“No need,” Jiang Ji said. Moving things back and forth was too much trouble. He ran to the main hall and exchanged a few of his system points for several large waterproof army tarps.

He carried them inside and unfolded one. “Here, let’s cover the beds and the chests.”

Jiang Yan touched the material. “These are waterproof?”

“Yeah.”

Together they covered both beds and the chests, then went to Zhao Ru’s room to cover her bed and clothing chest as well.

When Jiang Yan went back to their room, Zhao Ru had already set a wooden basin under the leak.

He crouched down, eyeing the tarp beneath it—it was unlike any waterproof fabric sold in the market. He dipped his fingers in the rainwater and sprinkled a little on it; the droplets gathered into beads, sitting on the surface without soaking in or spreading.

“What are you doing?” Jiang Ji asked.

“Testing it,” Jiang Yan replied.

Jiang Ji chuckled. “Pretty amazing, right? Better than any oilcloth sold in town, isn’t it?”

Jiang Yan nodded, feeling the smooth surface. “It’s not coated with oil.”

“Mm. You know why?” Jiang Ji arched a brow, half teasing.

Jiang Yan looked at him, guessing it had to do with Jiang Ji’s mysterious secret, so he stayed silent.

Jiang Ji pointed upward. “Because it’s made by immortals—used by immortals.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Jiang Ji laughed and walked out of the room.

“Brother, what are you laughing at? The roof’s leaking and you’re still laughing,” Jiang Nan said, exasperated.

“Oh, I just thought of something funny.”

Looking around at the dripping house, Jiang Ji turned to Zhao Ru. “Mother, let’s build a new house.”

Zhao Ru looked up at the leaking roof and the basins catching rain, then nodded. “Yes, it’s time we built one.”

Jiang Bei asked hesitantly, “Mother, big brother… do we have enough money for that?”

The twins didn’t know how much the family had earned. The only time they’d seen money made was when the village first sold seeds, earning a little over two hundred taels.

Jiang Xia, however, knew—they hadn’t hidden it from her, only from the younger two. Thinking of building a new home, even she couldn’t help smiling.

“We do,” Jiang Ji said. “We can build a big house.”

Jiang Nan’s eyes shone. “Can we build a tile-roofed house like the village chief’s? His house doesn’t leak when it rains!”

“We can.”

“Wow! Then we’ll get to live in a house that doesn’t leak!” Jiang Nan jumped up, thrilled.

Jiang Bei had an even bigger dream. “Big brother, can we each have our own room then?”

Jiang Ji raised a brow. “What, you don’t want to share with Jiang Nan anymore?”

Jiang Bei pursed his lips. “He kicks me in his sleep. I want my own room.”

“I don’t kick you!” Jiang Nan protested.

“You do! You just don’t realize it.”

“Well, you kicked me too!”

“I did not!”

“Alright, alright, stop bickering,” Jiang Ji said with a laugh. “Fine—we’ll build you each your own room.”

“Great!” the twins cheered together.

Outside, the rain poured down in sheets; inside, water dripped steadily into the wooden basins. Just a month ago, such a scene would have filled the family with worry. But now, the thought of building a new home filled them with hope and excitement, their faces all bright with smiles.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Ch 42: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

At dawn, the sky gradually lightened.

Jiang Ji turned onto his left side, his arm instinctively reaching out beside him—only to find empty space.

He opened his eyes and, not seeing Jiang Yan anywhere, stared blankly for a few seconds before remembering—they were in Pingnan County now, and Jiang Yan wasn’t sharing a room with him.

Sitting up, Jiang Ji rubbed his face and got out of bed.

At home, he usually woke up around this time—fetching water first, sometimes heading to the fields.

It was still early. He got dressed, gathered his toothbrush, cloth, and washbasin, and headed downstairs to wash up.

When he opened his door, Jiang Yan happened to come out of the neighboring room.

“Morning,” Jiang Ji greeted with a yawn, tears forming in the corners of his eyes from sleepiness. “Did you sleep well?”

Jiang Yan locked his door, giving him a glance. “You didn’t sleep well?”

“It’s fine,” Jiang Ji said, rubbing away the moisture at his eyes. “Just not used to you not being there.”

Jiang Yan paused, looked at him once, and said, “Go wash up.”

“Mm.”

After the two of them washed downstairs, the others began getting up as well.

During breakfast, Lord Chen noticed that both Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan had brought their belongings and asked, “Why are you carrying your luggage? Not coming back tonight?”

“Yeah, we’re staying at the manor today,” Jiang Ji nodded, then reminded him, “My lord, tomorrow morning please have the county magistrate come to the estate to hand over the seeds. Also, when the village heads bring the name lists, remind them of the time to come buy the seeds.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve already arranged it.”

After breakfast, the magistrate sent a few men to escort them to inspect the manor.

As Jiang Ji had requested, the estate was located just outside the city—only a fifteen-minute walk away.

After inspecting it, Jiang Ji was quite satisfied. This time, there weren’t as many seeds, so they didn’t need as much land.

He planned to distribute a portion of sweet potatoes, potatoes, and corn to each county, spreading them evenly.

To speed up promotion and help more people plant, all the seeds he exchanged were self-pollinating varieties—easy for farmers to save and replant on their own. That way, by next year, rice, corn, cotton, and potatoes could all multiply and spread severalfold across every county.

Sweet potatoes, on the other hand, could start spreading this very year through vine cuttings.

He had already explained all of this to Lord Chen and the others, so the officials of each county would soon know how to handle local expansion on their own.

After inspecting the manor, Lord Chen and his men left. Jiang Ji stayed behind, waiting for the county yamen to deliver the statistical data. Until then, the day was fairly idle.

He set down his bundle, and he and Jiang Yan went to the kitchen to boil a kettle of water. They poured tea, brought out a tray of peanuts and melon seeds, and sat under the eaves chatting as they snacked.

“I’m curious,” Jiang Ji said, cracking seeds between his fingers. “How do you think the magistrate here will price the seeds? Hopefully he won’t mark them up too high?”

He had already calculated his fair prices: forty wen per jin for rice and cotton, twenty for corn, and ten for sweet potatoes and potatoes. The latter two required much larger quantities per mu—often over a hundred jin—and since it was the first planting, the lower price made it affordable for farmers.

After one harvest, the farmers could easily recover their costs and even sell extra seeds for profit.

Jiang Yan shook his head. “Depends on how much pressure Lord Chen puts on them.”

“Lord Chen said he’d assign someone to supervise,” Jiang Ji replied, cracking another handful of seeds. “But who knows if the person doing the supervising is actually reliable.”

Still, he no longer had time to handle all the seed selling himself.

Jiang Yan glanced at him but said nothing. He peeled a peanut, rubbing the red skin off with his fingers until it flaked away.

“You don’t like peanut skins?” Jiang Ji asked.

Jiang Yan looked down at the nut in his hand and paused. “Not sure. Maybe just an old habit.”

Jiang Ji couldn’t help but comment, “Actually, that red skin’s pretty nutritious.”

When he was little, his father used to do the same—rubbing off the skins—so he’d copied him. But his mother had scolded him, saying it was better to eat them whole because the red skins were good for the body. After that, he’d always eaten peanuts with the skin on.

“What?” Jiang Yan asked, glancing over.

“This.” Jiang Ji pointed to the pile of red peanut skins on the table. “That stuff’s good for you. I think it can even be used medicinally.”

Jiang Yan looked at the peanut in his hand again, then met Jiang Ji’s steady gaze. With a quiet laugh, he popped the entire peanut—skin and all—into his mouth.

Satisfied, Jiang Ji went back to cracking sunflower seeds.

“How’s your leg?” Jiang Yan asked.

Jiang Ji swung both legs a little. “Much better. Just a bit itchy.”

“Did you apply the medicine?”

Jiang Ji froze.

“You forgot?” Jiang Yan asked, watching him.

“It’ll be fine by tomorrow,” Jiang Ji said, not too concerned.

“Tomorrow’s ride will be longer than yesterday’s,” Jiang Yan reminded him.

“Oh.” Jiang Ji put down the seeds, dusted his hands, and stood up. “I’ll do it now.”

He washed his hands and, too lazy to walk back to his room, applied the ointment right there in the kitchen. As he was pulling his trousers down, he paused—remembering yesterday’s incident—then quickly hit the pause button on the livestream before applying the medicine, getting dressed, and reopening the feed.

【He finally learned today】
【Come on, you’re all men, what’s there to hide?】

That was exactly what Jiang Ji had said yesterday. Seeing the chat quote him, he sighed. “There are girls watching too, you know. Maybe even minors—mind your words.”

【Oh? You weren’t so shy yesterday.】

“People grow up,” Jiang Ji said helplessly. “Anyway, I’m going to hang out with Jiang Yan.”

The two of them lazed around until noon. Jiang Ji even dozed off for a bit with his eyes closed. When lunchtime came, a yamen runner finally arrived with the statistics.

“Thanks, brother. Please tell the lord he can bring his men over tomorrow morning.”

“Got it,” the runner said with a nod, glancing around. “Need any help here?”

“No, thank you,” Jiang Ji replied.

After lunch, the two took a nap, then walked around the estate and out along the main road.

“Anyone watching?” Jiang Ji asked quietly.

Jiang Yan nodded. “Two of them.”

Jiang Ji sighed and signaled with his eyes. “Let’s go.”

They circled behind the watchers. Jiang Ji clapped one of them on the shoulder, and the man turned around—only to freeze in horror at finding himself face-to-face with the very people he’d been tailing.

Jiang Ji tilted his chin. “I’ve got your face memorized. My big brother here’s a great artist—drawing a likeness is nothing for him. I don’t care who sent you, but go tell your master this: if you keep spying on us, we won’t sell seeds anymore. When Lord Chen or the Provincial Governor asks, I’ll hand over your portrait. The blame will be on you and your master. Do with that what you will.”

He crossed his arms, staring the man down.

The man’s face drained of color. After a moment’s hesitation, he spun around and fled.

They found the second one and handled him the same way. That man, too, hesitated briefly before leaving in haste.

Watching him go, Jiang Ji snorted. “Let’s head back.”

By dusk, they checked the main road again—no one in sight. Whether there were spies farther away, they couldn’t worry about that.

The next morning, just after breakfast, both the county magistrate and Lord Chen arrived with their men.

Jiang Ji opened the warehouse doors. “Everything’s ready—stored here and in those five rooms. Each sack weighs one hundred jin. The rice and cotton are full stock, and the sweet potatoes, potatoes, and corn are at twenty percent of total volume. Go ahead and check and weigh them.”

Inside, only a single layer of bags was stacked flat to make counting easy—the place was packed full of seeds.

Weighing every bag would take ages, so the magistrate smiled. “No need, just sample a few. This official still trusts Brother Jiang’s integrity.”

Jiang Ji smiled. “Thank you for trusting me, my lord—but even brothers keep clear accounts. It’s better to have everything weighed properly. That way everyone feels at ease.”

The county magistrate hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Alright.”

To speed things up, he sent men to borrow scales and manpower from nearby villagers. By noon, all the seed sacks had been weighed and tallied.

While they were working, Jiang Ji took the chance to teach the local villagers how to sprout and transplant sweet potatoes, potatoes, and rice seedlings, so they could later instruct their village heads in turn.

Once the accounting was finished, the total came to nine thousand four hundred and eighty taels of silver.

This amount was to be advanced by the county office. The magistrate wrote an IOU for Jiang Ji, promising to deliver the money as soon as the seeds were sold.

Jiang Ji accepted the note, then after lunch, he and Jiang Yan packed their bundles and set off with Lord Chen for the next county.

Not long after they left, four men in black short tunics, swords at their sides, galloped into Pingnan County.

Inside an inn room, the four gathered around a table.

“Chen Feng, what should we do? We’ve searched six or seven counties nearby and still no trace of the regent.”

“Don’t panic. His Highness is blessed—he’ll be safe.”

“It’s already been almost a month. Maybe we should ask the provincial governor for help. With more people, we’d search faster.”

“No. Lord Lu made it clear—the fewer who know about the Regent’s disappearance, the better. Both Lord Lu and General Han have already dispatched men. Even if we have to turn this entire prefecture upside down, we will find him.”

“Alright. Chen Feng and I will stay here. You two head to Changping County. No matter what happens, we regroup in Pingyang in five days.”

“Would His Highness really have gone that far? He was seriously injured, and this place is already over a hundred li from where it happened. Changping is still seventy or eighty li farther.”

“What else can we do? We’ve searched everything within a hundred-li radius and found nothing. We can only expand northward. If His Highness has recovered at all, he’d likely head north toward the capital. We must find him—no matter what—and ensure his safety.”

“Alright.”

Two of the men rode north, while the other two found an inn, left their horses and luggage, and immediately went out into the city to continue the search.

Jiang Ji, Lord Chen, and their party drove their horses hard toward the east and reached the next county by dusk.

Jiang Ji immediately asked the magistrate for the necessary data, then had him arrange quarters at a nearby manor. He told them to return in the morning for the transaction—and sent them all away.

Watching how Jiang Ji handled things, Lord Chen seemed thoughtful but said nothing.

What mattered most were the seeds. As for how Jiang Ji had transported them, or why there had been no word about it in advance—that was irrelevant for now.

When Jiang Ji bid farewell, he made it clear to Lord Chen that they’d been followed—and that he didn’t like it.

Whatever Lord Chen said to his subordinates afterward, the tailing stopped. Jiang Ji felt much more at ease.

The remaining counties didn’t take as long. When they arrived, the magistrates had already completed their statistics, so Jiang Ji only needed to prepare the seeds at night and make the exchange the next morning.

At every county, he and Jiang Yan reserved half a day to wander through the city—searching for Jiang Yan’s family or anything that might trigger his memory.

That afternoon, they strolled through town again, but still no one recognized Jiang Yan.

It was their fifth county now—thirteen days since they’d set out.

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan left the city, heading back to the manor outside the walls.

Seeing the calm on Jiang Yan’s face, Jiang Ji hesitated before saying, “Maybe we’ve been looking in the wrong places. It’s possible you’re from some town, not the county seat.”

Jiang Yan turned his head slightly, his voice low. “Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

How could he be fine? Losing one’s memory, not knowing where one’s family was—Jiang Ji imagined himself in that situation and felt a pang of sympathy. It had to be confusing and unsettling.

Though Jiang Yan appeared composed, Jiang Ji knew him well by now. He was always steady, never panicking, never emotional. At most he’d furrow his brows—then go straight to finding a solution instead of complaining.

Safe, dependable, and quietly strong.

After a moment of silence, Jiang Ji said, “It’s also possible you were just passing through and got robbed by bandits. Maybe you’re not from this prefecture at all—that’s why no one recognizes you.”

“That’s possible,” Jiang Yan replied with a nod.

“When your memory returns, everything will make sense,” Jiang Ji said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Till then, stay at my place and rest up. Help me with the fields too—it’ll be good training for your body, alright?”

Jiang Yan looked at him, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. His eyes shimmered faintly, bright with something that looked like hope. “Alright.”

In the prefectural yamen, Prefect Hu stared at the note in his hand, sneered, and tossed it onto the desk.

The adviser beside him picked it up and glanced over it—it was a report from the counties below. The total from the four counties Jiang Ji had visited so far came to nearly forty thousand taels of silver in seed sales.

He watched Prefect Hu’s expression carefully. “My lord, they’ll soon finish the last few counties. Are we just going to let it go?”

Prefect Hu’s face darkened, his eyes venomous. He gave a low, cold laugh. “He thinks he can toy with me and walk away? That bumpkin really thinks he’s something special?”

The adviser hesitated, then asked softly, “Then my lord intends…?”

Prefect Hu thought for a moment. “Their last stop is Huawen County, correct?”

“Yes,” the adviser said, pouring him tea. “They went south from Changping to Pingnan, then east, then south again, circling back west—it all ends at Huawen County. About a hundred and sixty or seventy li east of Huawen lies Changping, and southeast of there is Pingnan. The three counties border each other.”

Prefect Hu took a slow sip of tea and said leisurely, “If I remember correctly, there’s a mountain in that area—a bandit nest, isn’t there?”

“Yes,” the adviser’s eyes lit up. “Skull Mountain. It’s right on the road between Huawen County and Changping County.” He glanced at Hu and, catching the implication, drew a finger across his throat. “My lord, you mean to have the Skull Mountain bandits…”

Hu didn’t reply.

The adviser hesitated, worried. “But Lord Fan values Jiang Ji quite highly right now.”

Hu let out a cold laugh. “Who said anything about killing him? Just give him a little lesson.”

The adviser was puzzled. “Then what are you thinking, my lord?”

Hu shot him a sideways glance. “Let a bit of information slip. Say two travelers carrying a large sum of silver will be passing through their area. They’ll know what to do.”

The adviser immediately understood and smiled with admiration. “Brilliant as always, my lord. I’ll take care of it.”

He turned to leave, but after two steps, paused and came back. “My lord, what if Lord Chen travels back to Changping with them?”

“Didn’t that fellow Jiang say he’s in a hurry to get home and sow the fields? Have the magistrate of Huawen delay Lord Chen a day or two.”

“Understood.”

Outside Huawen County, in a country manor—

The magistrate handed Jiang Ji an IOU and asked, “Brother Jiang, are you sure you won’t stay two more days? Once the seeds sell, I can give you the money directly.”

Jiang Ji shook his head. “My lord, we’ve been away sixteen days already. The weather’s getting warmer by the day—if we delay any longer, we’ll miss the planting season.”

The magistrate sighed, seeing he couldn’t persuade him. “Very well, then. Be careful on your way home.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan packed their things and went to say goodbye to Lord Chen.

“You’re really leaving this soon?” Lord Chen frowned. “I’ve heard there are bandits active nearby. If you wait two days, I’ll finish my business here and travel back with you. It’ll be safer with more people.”

Jiang Ji shook his head. “The planting season won’t wait, and the villagers back home are following my schedule. I can’t delay.”

Seeing their minds made up, Lord Chen could only warn, “Then please be very cautious.”

“Of course. Thank you, my lord.”

After returning to town and eating lunch, they fed the horses well and prepared to depart through the east gate.

Jiang Yan glanced at his companion’s leg. “Maybe rent a carriage?”

“No need. Too slow—I just want to get home early.”

“Your leg…”

“It’s fine. I wrapped it in gauze—it’ll hold.”

The past few days of constant riding had reopened the half-healed chafed wounds on Jiang Ji’s thighs. He’d wrapped them in bandages, and later Jiang Yan even fashioned cotton padding for him, but it hadn’t helped much.

Since Jiang Ji insisted, Jiang Yan didn’t argue further. “Alright.”

They rode about ten li out of town. At a fork in the road, Jiang Yan pulled the reins and steered south.

“Is this the right way? Don’t get us lost!” Jiang Ji shouted from the front.

“Should be,” Jiang Yan said calmly. “If not, we’ll turn back.”

“…Alright, fine.”

They followed the winding southern path for about fifteen minutes and soon reached the main road. After traveling a short distance, they came across a middle-aged man carrying baskets on a pole. Jiang Yan stopped the horse.

“Uncle,” Jiang Ji leaned forward to ask, “is this the way to Pingnan County?”

“Yes, that’s right—this way.”

“Thank you, uncle.”

Jiang Ji turned, grinning, and patted Jiang Yan’s arm. “See? It’s this way. Let’s go.”

“Hyah!”

With a flick of the reins, Jiang Yan urged the horse forward, hooves thundering down the road.

Everyone knew Skull Mountain was crawling with bandits. Jiang Ji, carrying over forty thousand taels of silver from the county payments, wasn’t stupid enough to take that route.

Safety came first—if they got robbed, the month of work would be for nothing, not to mention risking their lives.

Heading south through Pingnan and then home only added fifty or sixty li to the journey.

They reached Pingnan just before the city gates closed and checked into the best inn in town for the night.

“Waiter! Bring us three or four of your best dishes, four bowls of rice, and make sure our two horses are well-fed. Prepare hot water too—we’ll wash up after dinner.” Jiang Ji handed the waiter a small silver tip.

The waiter’s face lit up. “Right away, sirs! Please have some tea while you rest.”

After leaving the teapot, the waiter hurried off.

The two men shared a room. Once inside, Jiang Ji dropped his bundle and flopped onto a stool, stretching out his legs.

“I’m dead tired. I feel like I’ve been shaken apart.”

After a full afternoon on horseback, his stomach felt like it had been churned to pieces.

Jiang Yan glanced at him and chuckled softly, pouring two cups of tea.

Jiang Ji took a sip and quickly set it down. “Damn, that’s boiling hot!”

“Then wait a bit.”

Still thirsty, Jiang Ji simply exchanged some of his system points for two bottles of mineral water. Handing one to Jiang Yan, he said, “Let’s drink this instead.”

He’d used the same trick on the road before, so Jiang Yan accepted the bottle, twisted the cap, and drank.

Jiang Ji gulped down half of his in one go.

A little later, the waiter brought up two basins of water. They washed their faces and hands, and once dinner was served and eaten, prepared to bathe.

After mixing the hot water, Jiang Yan set the bucket down and turned toward him. “Let me see your leg.”

Jiang Ji paused the livestream, pulled off his outer trousers, and revealed the gauze at his thigh—stained with a small patch of blood.

Jiang Yan frowned. “Just wipe yourself down. Don’t bathe—you can do that once it heals.”

Jiang Ji sighed. “Alright. You wash first, I’ll just use a basin after.”

“You go ahead and wipe up first—it’s faster.”

“I still have to put on the medicine later. Don’t want to take my pants off twice. Go on, take your bath before the water gets cold. I’ll stand guard for you.” Jiang Ji pulled his trousers back on, grabbed a stool, and went to sit by the door.

Watching him close the door tightly, Jiang Yan quickly undressed and started bathing.

Sitting outside, Jiang Ji reopened his livestream.

【You done bathing already? That was like three minutes tops.】
【Streamer, you’re fast, huh.】

Jiang Ji glanced down the hallway—no one around—then whispered, “Didn’t wash. Got a sore on my leg, Jiang Yan told me not to. I’ll just wipe off later. He’s the one washing now.”

【Ohhh, so Jiang Yan told you not to bathe.】
【And you’re guarding the door?】
【Come on, both of you are men. Why so shy about bathing?】
【He likes men, remember? That’s who he finds attractive.】
【So, streamer, you’re standing outside because you don’t trust your self-control?】
【Hahaha, don’t tease him like that!】

Jiang Ji: “…”

“Pick up your morals, they’re all over the floor! You people are impossible—aren’t you afraid minors might see this?”

【Minors shouldn’t watch his stream.】
【We’re watching anyway, who cares.】
【I’m an adult, I want the adult channel!】
【Me too!】

Jiang Ji: “…”

“You’re all corrupting the youth. Kids, if you’re underage, don’t watch this—save your innocent eyes.”

【It’s summer break, parents can’t stop us.】
【What’s the big deal? Schools teach sex ed now. We know.】

Jiang Ji: “…”

He chatted with them for a bit until the door suddenly opened.

Surprised, he turned around. “You’re already done?”

“Mm. Come in.”

Jiang Ji eyed him suspiciously. Jiang Yan was in clean underclothes, hair still damp, eyes cool and calm. “You’re not soaking a bit longer? A hot bath helps the muscles.”

“I’ll soak when we’re home.” Jiang Yan picked up the stool he’d been sitting on. “Come in—I left water for you to wipe off and wash your feet.”

“Oh.” Jiang Ji followed him inside and shut the door.

Seeing that Jiang Yan was drying his hair and not paying attention, Jiang Ji quickly stripped off his shirt, wrung out the cloth, and started wiping down.

He wiped his chest and stomach, then tried to reach his back but couldn’t quite get there. Just as he was about to twist the cloth around, a hand took it from him.

“I’ll do it.”

Jiang Ji turned slightly. Jiang Yan’s loose hair fell over his shoulders; his dark eyes were softened by the lamplight.

Jiang Ji turned back. “Oh—thanks.”

Jiang Yan dipped the towel in the basin, wrung it out, folded it neatly, then began at the back of his neck—slow, steady strokes down over his shoulders, across his back, along his shoulder blades.

His fingertips brushed skin now and then, light and fleeting. It tickled a little, and Jiang Ji instinctively shivered.

“What’s wrong? Too rough?” Jiang Yan asked quietly.

“No,” Jiang Ji scratched at his face. “Too light. You can press harder.”

“Alright.” Jiang Yan’s strokes grew firmer.

After rinsing the cloth again, he began wiping Jiang Ji’s waist. Jiang Ji twisted aside and turned around. “I can reach here myself.”

Jiang Yan gave him a brief look, then handed the towel over. “Soak your feet in the bucket when you’re done.”

“Got it.”

Jiang Ji finished quickly, dressed, then sat by the bath bucket to wash his feet in the water Jiang Yan had used. He even rinsed his legs, soaked for a while, and poured the remaining warm water over himself before drying off.

Jiang Yan went to call the waiter to remove the tub. Jiang Ji sat on the bed applying ointment.

The inside of his thigh was swollen and red, itching and painful. The broken skin had stuck to the old gauze, so he peeled it off carefully and spread on a new layer of cooling ointment, letting it air-dry.

The medicine was soothing and cool; he meant to rewrap it once it dried—but before he knew it, he’d drifted off to sleep.

When Jiang Yan came back and closed the door, the waiter gone, he saw Jiang Ji fast asleep with his legs sprawled open, still bare, the gauze and bandages forgotten.

Jiang Yan stood there for a moment, then went to sit beside the bed. He looked at the raw patch on the thigh, gently applied another layer of ointment, and carefully rewrapped it.

As he lifted the leg, Jiang Ji stirred.

Jiang Yan looked down at him. “Just wrapping your leg. Go back to sleep.”

Hearing the familiar voice, Jiang Ji murmured an “Mm” and fell asleep again.

Once the bandage was secure, Jiang Yan pulled on his underpants, covered him with the quilt, and tucked both their money pouches safely to the inner side of the bed. Only then did he lie down beside him.

He had barely closed his eyes when a warm body pressed against him, an arm looping around his waist, a head resting on his shoulder.

In that familiar sleeping posture, Jiang Yan soon drifted off too.

On a slope near the main road by Skull Mountain, seven or eight burly men dressed in black crouched in the bushes, eyes fixed on the road below.

Smack!

One slapped a mosquito and scratched his neck. “Boss, it’s almost midnight. Those two probably aren’t coming, huh?”

“Yeah, boss, it’s so late—they must’ve stopped at a relay inn ahead.”

“Didn’t they say they left at noon? What’s taking them so long? It’s only sixty or seventy li—they should’ve arrived by now!”

“Not even a ghost in sight! Boss, you don’t think that message was fake, do you?”

“Wasn’t it supposed to be two men carrying forty thousand taels in silver notes?”

“Hardly anyone dares take this route. Maybe they went south instead?”

“Exactly! Everyone knows the name of Skull Mountain—who’d have the guts to come through here?”

“Shut it, all of you!” the leader barked, and the whole group fell silent.

He stood up, slashed through a nearby shrub with his blade, and cursed angrily. “Damn it! What kind of information did that Hu Yuanwu give us? Is he toying with me?! Let’s go—back to the hideout!”

“Right, right, let’s go!”

They’d been squatting there since yesterday afternoon and all through the night, and not a single traveler had passed.

They’d done nothing but feed the mosquitoes.

At dawn the next day, Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan woke up fully rested. After breakfast, they mounted their horses. Riding for a little over an hour, carrying forty thousand taels in silver notes and two promissory slips, they finally returned home, dusty but safe.

“Mother, we’re back!”

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Ch 41: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

During lunch, Lord Chen updated Jiang Ji on their progress.

That morning, they had just finished the countywide briefing. The village heads and clan elders had returned to gather information, but it would take until at least tomorrow before any data came in.

Jiang Ji nodded. Pingnan was the first county they’d started with, so the schedule was bound to be tight.

“Sir, did you find the warehouse or estate I asked for?”

Lord Chen nodded. “Yes, it’s ready. I’ll take you to see it after the meal.”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. The list wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow anyway. “Sir, let’s go see it tomorrow morning. We have something to take care of this afternoon.”

Lord Chen knew they planned to visit relatives while in Pingnan. He nodded. “Alright. We’re all staying at the post station. When you’re ready, just let me know.”

“Okay.”

They discussed a few more matters. Since Jiang Ji was the most experienced with the seed promotion work, he usually spoke first, then everyone would discuss and finalize the procedure together.

After lunch, the county magistrate had attendants escort them to the post station. Once they dropped off their luggage, Jiang Ji tugged Jiang Yan along.

“Let’s walk around town—see if anyone recognizes you.”

That was their other main goal: helping Jiang Yan recover his memory and, hopefully, find his family.

They strolled down the main street. Pingnan’s county seat looked much like Changping’s, though a bit smaller.

Jiang Ji glanced at Jiang Yan. “I noticed no one at the yamen seemed to know you.”

Based on their guess, Jiang Yan had probably been from a wealthy family. Normally, someone of that standing would be recognized by many people in any town—unless he’d been the reclusive sort.

“Mm. Maybe I’m not from here.” Jiang Yan’s gaze drifted over the streets. “Nothing feels familiar.”

“Not even a little?”

“No.”

“Then let’s walk some more. There weren’t many people at the yamen anyway,” Jiang Ji said encouragingly. “We can check the shops—painting stores, stationery shops, teahouses, restaurants—places where scholars or merchants go. The shopkeepers and servants there usually know a lot of people. If you’re from this county, someone should recognize you.”

Those kinds of shops—selling paintings, brushes, tea—were exactly where literate or well-off young men tended to appear.

Jiang Yan gave him a sidelong look. “And what if I wasn’t a scholar?”

“Huh?” Jiang Ji blinked. “Then… should we go check the brothels instead?”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Seeing his expression, Jiang Ji grinned. “Well, the sons of noble families love those pleasure houses, don’t they? And the girls there know everyone.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

“So, shall we go?” Jiang Ji nudged his arm, half-joking but also a bit excited. “I’ve never been to one before.”

Jiang Yan sighed. “If your mother ever found out you went to a brothel, she’d break your legs when you got home.”

Jiang Ji: “…”

He stared at him in disbelief. “Come on, big brother. We’ve finally gotten a chance to travel—don’t tie a leash on me already.”

“And besides,” he muttered, “I’m just going to look, not to do anything.”

“What exactly would you want to do?” Jiang Yan asked, one brow raised. “Hugging left and right?”

Jiang Ji: “…”

He ducked his head and mumbled under his breath, “If I wanted to do that, I wouldn’t go to a brothel—I’d go to a boy house.”

“What was that?”

“Ah? Nothing, nothing! Hahaha…” Jiang Ji laughed nervously and quickly pointed across the street. “Oh hey, look—a calligraphy shop! Let’s go check it out!”

Without waiting for a reply, he hurried ahead. Jiang Yan lifted a brow and followed.

At the entrance, Jiang Ji waited for him to catch up, then deliberately guided him right in front of the shopkeeper.

“Welcome, gentlemen. Looking for brushes, ink, or paper?” the shopkeeper asked with the polite indifference reserved for strangers.

If Jiang Yan were a familiar customer, the clerk would have called him “Young Master So-and-So” immediately.

“We’re just looking around,” Jiang Ji said casually.

They wandered a bit and left.

Next, they visited a painting shop, but again—no one recognized Jiang Yan.

After that came a teahouse, then a restaurant, and even a jewelry shop, a fabric store, a grain merchant, and a cosmetics shop. By the end, they had walked through nearly all the main streets and most of the central marketplace.

Seeing Jiang Yan’s expression grow more distant, Jiang Ji tried to cheer him up. “Let’s check the market area and side alleys next. Maybe we’ll find a clue.”

But Jiang Yan stopped him and looked down at his leg. “Rest for a bit.”

So the two stepped into a teahouse and took a window seat. They ordered two plates of snacks and a pot of tea.

After two cups, Jiang Ji picked up a piece of rice cake, chewing slowly as he stared out the window—thinking which place they should visit next where someone might finally recognize Jiang Yan.

Jiang Yan poured him another cup of tea and asked, “Does your leg still hurt?”

“Hm?” Jiang Ji turned his head. “I’m not tired.”

“I meant the part that got rubbed raw this morning,” Jiang Yan clarified.

“Oh.” Jiang Ji finally realized what he meant—he hadn’t expected Jiang Yan to be that considerate. Smiling, he said, “It’s fine, just a little sore and itchy. If I don’t pay attention to it, I hardly notice.”

Jiang Yan nodded and picked up a pastry himself.

“Hey, Jiang Yan,” Jiang Ji said suddenly, “let’s go check out the academy later.”

He had just remembered there was an academy in the county. If Jiang Yan had studied anywhere, surely it would be there. Even if he’d already graduated, maybe one of the scholars or teachers would recognize him.

Jiang Yan noticed the light in his eyes—he clearly believed this was a good lead—and nodded. “Alright.”

There were only four pieces of cake per plate; after finishing two plates and resting a bit, Jiang Ji pulled Jiang Yan back onto the street.

They asked for directions to the academy and walked over. Along the way, they popped into a few shops, but still no one recognized Jiang Yan.

At the academy gate, an older doorkeeper in his forties asked what they wanted.

Jiang Ji casually said, “My young nephew’s just about old enough to start schooling, so we came to learn more about the academy. By the way, uncle, how long have you worked here?”

“More than ten years,” the man replied warmly.

“And do you know all the students here?”

“Of course! There are over two hundred of them—there’s not a single one I don’t know.”

Jiang Ji glanced at Jiang Yan, then said to the man, “Uncle, could you take a look at my elder brother here? Do you recognize him?”

The gatekeeper studied Jiang Yan carefully and shook his head. “Never seen him before.”

Then he gave Jiang Ji a look. “You trying to test me, young man? He’s definitely not from our academy. My memory’s sharp as a tack—I’d remember.”

“You’re amazing, uncle.” Jiang Ji gave him a thumbs-up. “Could we go in and take a look around?”

“You’ll need someone from inside the academy to escort you.”

Jiang Ji still wanted to go in, but Jiang Yan stopped him. “Thank you,” he said to the doorkeeper. “We won’t go in.”

As they walked away, Jiang Ji muttered, “What if someone inside knows you?”

“That man sees everyone coming and going. If even he doesn’t know me, I’m probably not from here.”

Jiang Ji fell silent for a moment, then said, “There’s a private school in the east of town—want to check that too?”

Jiang Yan looked at him. “I really don’t think I’m from this place.”

Jiang Ji clapped his shoulder. “Don’t get discouraged. We’ve got nothing else to do this afternoon—might as well walk around and see how this county differs from ours.”

Seeing the concern and warmth in his eyes, Jiang Yan couldn’t bring himself to refuse. “Alright.”

As dusk approached, they headed back. Rounding a corner near the academy, they spotted a place called Drunken Moon Pavilion. The doorkeeper had just opened the doors, and a woman in her thirties, lavishly dressed and heavily painted, was instructing the servants to sweep.

“Hey, Jiang Yan, let’s go take a look.”

Jiang Yan glanced at the place and immediately caught his arm.

Jiang Ji turned. “What’s wrong?”

He looked at the signboard and the woman’s attire. “That’s a brothel.”

“What? That’s a brothel?” Jiang Ji stared wide-eyed at the sign. “Aren’t brothels supposed to be called, like, ‘House of Blossoms’ or something?”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Jiang Ji looked again at the woman and at the few colorfully dressed girls passing by inside. Only then did he realize it really was a brothel. “Drunken Moon Pavilion, huh. I guess my idea was too old-fashioned. I thought it was a tavern.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Jiang Ji leaned forward to peek inside. “Wow, so this is what a real ancient brothel looks like. Too bad it’s just opening—there aren’t many people around yet. I bet it’s lively at night.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

“Let’s go.” He grabbed Jiang Ji by the wrist and started pulling him away.

“Hey, let me look a bit longer!”

“Look at what? You want aunt to break your legs?”

“…Aren’t you even curious?” Jiang Ji nudged him. “Don’t you want to go in?”

“No.” Jiang Yan shot him a glance. “And you’re not going either.”

Jiang Ji sighed. “…Fine.”

He looked back with a little regret.

He couldn’t help wondering—were brothels in ancient times really like the ones in the dramas?

In his past life, when Jiang Ji was fifteen or sixteen, curiosity had led him to a club with some rowdy friends. That was when he realized he had no interest in women at all—and discovered he liked men instead.

Jiang Yan noticed him glancing back and said coolly, “Regretting it already?”

Jiang Ji saw the faint edge in his tone and rubbed his nose. “Not really. Just curious, honestly.”

Jiang Yan studied him. It wasn’t strange for someone his age to be curious about such things, but still he said quietly, “Those places are no good. They cloud the mind. You shouldn’t go. And once you marry someday, you must never go.”

Jiang Ji blinked, then nodded slowly. “Got it. Don’t worry, I really was just curious. I understand.”

By dinnertime, they found a small restaurant, ate their fill, and stepped back out into the night.

Pingnan was a small county; when there wasn’t a festival, the streets were quiet after dark. Outside the two main roads, most of the town was pitch black.

“Let’s head back,” Jiang Yan said, glancing at the sky. “We’ve walked enough today. Get some rest.”

It was true—there wasn’t much else to do. Jiang Ji nodded. “Alright.”

They returned to the post station. Jiang Ji went to find Lord Chen to confirm the time for tomorrow’s visit to the estate, then went back to his room.

The post station was currently housing only Lord Chen and Jiang Ji’s group, so there were plenty of rooms. Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan each had their own separate quarters.

Jiang Ji ordered hot water, took a long bath, cleaned himself up, and then leaned by the window to open his livestream.

He had been busy since morning and hadn’t had a chance to check it all day.

The viewer count startled him—about thirty million people were watching. Usually, around this time in the evening, there were only a little over ten million.

He glanced at the barrage of comments. Even when he wasn’t talking, the viewers were chatting among themselves enthusiastically.

【The stream pauses every time he takes a bath—this system’s too smart.】
【Wait, doesn’t the streamer pause it himself?】
【He used to, but later got system privileges and set it to auto-pause. When he bathes or goes to the toilet, the image just freezes.】
【Hahaha, remember when he first started streaming? He didn’t even dare look down while peeing, and he’d stare straight ahead in the bath so he wouldn’t show anything.】
【Ahahaha, I miss those days.】
【He used to run to the woods just to use the toilet. Every time the screen froze on a patch of trees.】
【I watch his streams during my breaks—it’s like following a drama series.】
【Same! It’s fun watching his household slowly get richer.】
【I’m here for the career plot, hahaha.】
【I’m not just here for the career—I’m also here for the CP!】
【Haha, girl above, I get you.】

Jiang Ji: …What are you all even talking about?!

He couldn’t help laughing. “So this is what you all say about me when I’m gone? Digging up my black history now?”

Seeing that he was reading the chat again, the comments exploded even more.

【Oh look, the streamer finally has time to notice us immortals again!】
【Yo, the streamer’s back!】
【Yo, why aren’t you off with Jiang Yan right now?】

Jiang Ji sighed helplessly. “What kind of talk is this?”

【Someone was sharing a horse with Jiang Yan this morning~】
【Not just sharing—you two were all lovey-dovey, almost kissed him!】
【The whole screen went pink!】
【Jiang Yan’s handsome face filled the screen—I could barely breathe!】
【HAHAHAHAHA】

“When did I ever kiss Jiang Yan? Our noses bumped, that’s it—don’t start rumors!”

“And don’t do that weird tone—talk normally, please.”

【Heh, you sound disappointed~】
【Aww, too bad you didn’t actually kiss him~】
【Don’t deny it—you stared at him for at least three seconds before looking away.】
【Tell us, what were you thinking?】

“That was an accident!” Jiang Ji was exasperated. “Didn’t you see that?”

【Accidentally stared for three seconds? Sure.】
【Exactly—most people would’ve jumped back right away.】
【And you even grabbed his hand!】

Jiang Ji rubbed his nose guiltily. “You people have mouths but no brakes, I can’t argue with you.”

【Ha! You’re touching your nose—you’re nervous.】

Jiang Ji: “…” He quickly put his hand down.

【And that’s not all. When you got off the horse, he caught you again.】
【Come on, admit it—you’ve got a crush on Jiang Yan.】
【Totally. You were flirting with him.】

Jiang Ji’s eyes widened. “When did I ever flirt with him? Don’t go making things up!”

【We’ve got proof—you literally started undressing in front of him!】

“What undressing?” Jiang Ji was confused.

【You took your pants off! What else would you call that?】
【Yeah, I blushed watching that part.】
【It was this close to getting censored.】

Jiang Ji: “…”

Then it hit him. He’d taken off his pants earlier to check the rash on his thigh—and had forgotten to pause the stream.

“What’s the big deal? We’re all men here! I was just checking my leg,” Jiang Ji said defensively. “And I was wearing underwear, okay?!”

Then he shot back, “You’re the ones with dirty minds—your eyes must be yellow by now.”

【Haha, he’s mad! He’s mad!】
【Hahahahahaha!】
【Stop explaining—explaining just means you’re guilty!】
【I won’t name names, but someone really wanted to see Jiang Yan’s thighs.】
【Oh right! You even tried to pull his pants down to check!】
【Hahaha, tragic—you failed!】
【Yeah, that’s a shame. You really let us down.】
【Jiang Yan’s got such a great body, those long legs must look amazing.】
【You took your pants off, but gave us that instead?!】
【Do better next time, we’ll be cheering you on.】

Jiang Ji: …

He groaned. “You bunch of perverts—slow your car down or you’ll get banned.”

【Hahaha, stop teasing him. The streamer’s still a virgin; he can’t keep up with the pace.】
【He’s still a virgin?】
【He’s only nineteen, hahaha!】
【No wonder he wanted to peek into the brothel.】
【Wouldn’t matter anyway—he likes men.】
【Ahh, that explains why he couldn’t take his eyes off Jiang Yan.】
【Then why’d he want to go into the brothel so bad? Poor Jiang Yan was panicking!】
【Nah, he said he wanted to go to a boy house, to hug left and right.】
【Streamer, don’t go astray—or your mom really will break your legs.】

Jiang Ji sighed and ignored them. If he replied, they’d only get worse.

【Streamer, do you know how many trending topics you’re on today?】

Seeing that comment, Jiang Ji blinked. “Huh? I made the trending list again?”

【Sure did! Didn’t you notice how many people were watching all day today?】
【You’re on three trending topics right now, still pinned at the top.】
【‘Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan sharing a horse,’ ‘Jiang Ji kissed Jiang Yan,’ and ‘Jiang Ji wants to visit a brothel.’】

“Ah, thank goodness Jiang Yan can’t see this, or he’d die of rage.”

Looking at the trending topics the audience listed, Jiang Ji could only marvel at how every netizen in the universe seemed blessed with the ability to spin nonsense with a straight face.

It had been a tiny accidental bump—and they’d called it a kiss.

Tch!

Still, since they’d mentioned it, he checked the backend stats. Sure enough, the viewership had been enormous throughout the day. There were three major spikes—morning, noon, and afternoon—each with over thirty million concurrent viewers.

Jiang Ji thought about it. Yep, those were exactly the times when he’d accidentally bumped into Jiang Yan while riding, checked his leg at the yamen, and tried to sneak a peek at the brothel in the afternoon.

Jiang Ji: “…” Fine. Let’s just call it engagement. At least it earned a ton of points.

It was prime time now, and the viewer count was still climbing.

He chatted with them for a while until some viewers started stirring up mischief again.

【It’s only eight—still early. Streamer, go check out the brothel!】
【Yeah, I wanna see it too!】
【Come on, you know you’re curious!】
【Go, go! We’ll hype it up for you!】
【I’ve always wondered what ancient brothels really look like.】

Jiang Ji was indeed a little curious, but he said, “I promised Jiang Yan I wouldn’t go.”

【Pfft, just don’t tell him!】
【Wow, you really listen to Jiang Yan, huh? You’re whipped and not even married yet.】

“A promise is a promise,” Jiang Ji said earnestly. “I’m a man of principle, okay?”

【Aww, what a shame.】
【You could just take a peek at the door!】
【We haven’t seen the night market yet either—go walk around, maybe pass by the brothel.】

Jiang Ji shook his head. “Can’t. There’s a curfew. Walking around at night gets you arrested.”

【What’s a curfew?】
【Explain it!】

Scratching his head, Jiang Ji explained, “Basically, after eight at night, you’re not allowed to wander around until morning. It’s for public safety. Remember, this is ancient times—law enforcement isn’t great. Ever heard the saying, ‘On dark, windy nights come murder and arson’? No cameras, no streetlights—nighttime’s prime time for thieves and killers.”

【…】
【Well, he’s got a point.】
【Man, people in ancient times had such boring nightlife.】

“Right? Boring as heck. Everyone just goes to bed early.”

“In small towns, there are night markets only during festivals—like Lantern Festival or Qiqiao Festival. They’ll temporarily lift the curfew, and then the streets get lively, full of people and performances. I’ll show you then.”

【Wait, but if no one’s allowed out at night, how do brothels stay in business?】
【Yeah, aren’t brothels supposed to open at night?】

Jiang Ji laughed. “Easy—they just go before the curfew.”

【Haha, quick thinker!】
【Do big cities have curfews too?】

“Big cities? Like the capital? Probably, yeah. I don’t know—I’ve never been there. Maybe someday I’ll take you all to see it, once life settles down. I’d like to visit the capital myself.”

【Is the capital huge?】
【Can you see the Emperor there?】

“No way. The Emperor never leaves the palace. But maybe you can spot some high officials. Actually, I kinda want to see what the Regent looks like.”

【Me too! That Lord Xu said he’s the real power behind the throne!】
【Young, brilliant, top scholar, skilled in both letters and arms—total male lead material.】
【Someone that powerful probably isn’t easy to meet.】

“Well, life’s long. We’ll see.” Jiang Ji suddenly remembered something. “Oh right—you guys remember I still have a mission related to the Emperor, right?”

【What mission?】
【Wasn’t it something about eating and fishing with him?】
【Yeah, cooking a meal for the Emperor and fishing together.】

“That’s it! So tell me—if the system gave me that quest, doesn’t that mean it can actually happen someday?”

【First you need cooking skills, though.】
【But maybe it’s possible. If you spread those seeds nationwide, that’s a huge contribution! If the Emperor gets pleased and wants to meet you, there’s your chance.】
【Exactly. To see the Emperor, you need merit. Promoting these crops might be the key.】

“But the Emperor doesn’t eat food cooked by outsiders,” Jiang Ji pointed out. “Every dish is tested for poison first.”

【You’re not poisoning him—what’s the problem?】
【So your cooking skill—what’s it tied to?】

“It’s tied to sweet potato promotion. One thousand mu for basic, ten thousand for intermediate, fifty thousand for advanced.”

【That doesn’t sound too hard.】
【Lots of people will plant sweet potatoes—you can grow them from vines too!】

Jiang Ji checked the backend. “Even after selling all those seeds, the beginner level still isn’t lit up. Guess just selling them doesn’t count—they have to be planted.”

【Makes sense.】
【So your weaving and loom skills probably won’t unlock until all the rice and cotton are planted too.】

They chatted for a bit longer until Jiang Ji started feeling sleepy. He went downstairs to use the latrine—and as he passed through the hall, he saw Jiang Yan sitting at a table, reading.

When Jiang Ji came downstairs, Jiang Yan lifted his gaze and asked, “Where are you going?”

“The latrine,” Jiang Ji said curiously. “Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

“I’ll sleep soon. I… I’m going to the latrine too.” Closing his book, Jiang Yan stood up, returned it to the innkeeper, and said, “Let’s go.”

Jiang Ji blinked, then nodded. “Alright, let’s go.”

After they finished and washed their hands, they both returned to their rooms.

Watching Jiang Ji enter his room, Jiang Yan reminded him, “Don’t forget to apply the ointment.”

Jiang Ji paused. “Oh, right.”

When Jiang Yan didn’t leave, Jiang Ji blinked. “Something else?”

“No.”

Jiang Ji hesitated. “Want to sleep together?”

“No need.” Jiang Yan turned and walked back to his own room.

Jiang Ji: “…”

Once he closed the door, Jiang Ji turned to his viewers. “Didn’t it seem like he had something he wanted to say?”

【Why don’t you ask him yourself?】
【Didn’t notice anything.】
【I think he was sitting downstairs keeping watch on you—afraid you’d sneak off to the brothel. Now he just wanted to make sure you actually went to bed.】
【Makes sense!】

Jiang Ji: “…You’re overthinking. He was just bored and reading. Didn’t you see that book? He even borrowed it from the innkeeper!”

“Anyway, I’m going to bed now. Goodnight, folks—see you tomorrow.”

He manually shut off the stream, then applied the ointment, crawled into bed, and lay down.

Once the livestream ended, the playback video immediately appeared in the system’s archive.

Remembering what the viewers had said, Jiang Ji opened the replay and skipped to the part where he’d accidentally brushed Jiang Yan’s lips while riding.

Since the stream’s perspective was from his own eyes, watching it back now felt completely different.

He hadn’t realized during the day how close he’d gotten—but on video, the scene suddenly zoomed in from a wide shot straight to Jiang Yan’s face.

Extremely close.

Jiang Yan’s profile filled the entire frame—high-definition, so sharp that even fine hairs were visible.

“Wow, good skin. Not a pore in sight,” Jiang Ji muttered under his breath.

He replayed the moment again and noticed he really had frozen there for quite a while before turning away.

Touching his nose, he recalled the moment—it had been pure blankness in his mind, nothing like what the viewers were suggesting.

The chat back then had gone wild—shock first, then howling like wolves when they realized what happened.

He scrubbed forward to the part at noon when he’d applied medicine and accidentally met Jiang Yan’s gaze after being caught.

In first-person, close-up, crystal clear—Jiang Yan’s sharp, handsome face filled the screen, his deep eyes seeming to pull people in.

Jiang Ji stared at the image for a few seconds, then reached out and brushed his fingers across Jiang Yan’s on-screen face.

“Yeah… really is pretty handsome.”

No wonder the audience had gone feral.

He glanced through the live comments again.

【Holy crap, Jiang Yan is so handsome!】
【God, that face—I could look at it all year!】
【Ahhhh, husband!】
【That man’s mine!】
【Husband, crush me please!】

Jiang Ji: “…?!”

What the heck?!

How did Jiang Yan suddenly become your husband?

Half the messages were already censored by the system, probably for indecency.

Jiang Ji sighed, staring at the ceiling for a while, then suddenly grinned.

Heh, whatever. Call him what you want—you can only look, but I can see him, touch him, and even hold him.

Feeling rather pleased, Jiang Ji shut off the system, closed his eyes, and went to sleep.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Ch 40: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

The next morning, after breakfast, Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan headed straight to the county seat to visit Magistrate Xu. They spoke for a while in his office.

Jiang Ji asked anxiously, “Sir, Prefect Hu didn’t cause you any trouble, did he?”

Yesterday, when Magistrate Xu suddenly appeared with Lord Chen, Prefect Hu must have realized that Magistrate Xu had not only reported the seed matter to him but had also informed the Provincial Inspector. Otherwise, Lord Chen would never have come in person.

Jiang Ji had noticed yesterday how Prefect Hu’s expression toward Magistrate Xu had turned unfriendly—the kindly smile he’d worn back at the manor was nowhere to be seen. And since his scheme had been ruined, with Lord Chen overhearing some rather incriminating things, Jiang Ji doubted Prefect Hu would let it go so easily.

He truly thought Magistrate Xu was one of the rare good officials and didn’t want him to suffer retaliation from a superior because of this affair.

Seeing that Jiang Ji’s worry was genuine, Magistrate Xu smiled. “Don’t worry. I can handle him.”

Hearing that, Jiang Ji relaxed a little. That was true—after all, Magistrate Xu had been a magistrate for over ten years; he knew how to navigate such things.

“Then I’m relieved,” Jiang Ji said. “Oh, by the way, sir, what kind of person is Lord Chen?”

Magistrate Xu looked at him. “Why? You afraid he’s also after your seeds?”

Jiang Ji scratched his head. “Not really. I just thought it’d be good to understand what kind of person he is—so I’ll know how to deal with him properly.”

Magistrate Xu chuckled and nodded, then explained what he knew. “From what I’ve heard, Lord Chen is a fairly upright man. He’s from Lùzhou, our neighboring prefecture. He was born into a farming family, later became a disciple under the Provincial Inspector, Lord Fan, who took a liking to him and appointed him as adviser over agricultural affairs. Lord Fan trusts him deeply. The fact that he’s been sent here personally shows just how much importance the Inspector places on this project. So you must take it seriously.”

“I understand,” Jiang Ji said, nodding.

Jiang Yan asked, “Sir, do you know how long Lord Chen will be staying here?”

“Yes,” Jiang Ji added. “Is he only here for a few days, or will he come back periodically? If he leaves, won’t Prefect Hu try to trouble us again?”

“Don’t worry,” Magistrate Xu said. “I’ve already asked. He’ll be stationed here at least until the summer harvest. This matter is significant—Lord Fan has ordered him to monitor the growth of the rice and sweet potato crops throughout the season and report progress regularly.”

He furrowed his brows slightly, lowering his voice. “I believe Lord Fan wants to wait until there are tangible results before submitting anything to the court.”

“That makes sense,” Jiang Ji said with a nod. “The Provincial Inspector probably wants to be cautious. If he reports too early, boasting about how wonderful everything is, he’ll raise expectations at court. Then, if the crops fail halfway or the harvest doesn’t meet expectations, it’ll look terrible. Sweet potatoes are fine—they’re still food—but if the rice yields disappoint, the Inspector will lose face before everyone.”

Magistrate Xu saw that Jiang Ji understood and nodded. “Exactly. As long as you get that, it’s fine.”

Jiang Ji was curious. “Then how did you report it to Lord Fan in the first place?”

Magistrate Xu stroked his beard. “I told him that you’d brought back new crops and high-yield rice, that the rice might increase production by sixty to seventy percent, and that the sweet potatoes were edible and promising. Then I handed over the sample seeds I’d gotten from you, saying I wanted to test planting them in our county first to see how the harvest would turn out.”

“I see.” Jiang Ji grinned. “So you left yourself some leeway.”

Magistrate Xu glared at him. “What, you think I’d be like you—boasting about doubling yields right off the bat, only to get slapped in the face later?”

Jiang Ji blinked and smiled. “But you did tell Prefect Hu it could double.”

Magistrate Xu only smiled without replying.

Jiang Ji chuckled and didn’t push further. Just then, a yamen runner came in to report that both Prefect Hu and Lord Chen had arrived, so the group headed over together.

Today’s meeting was mainly to get everyone acquainted. Lord Chen, sent by the Provincial Inspector, was personally overseeing the seed distribution and wanted to understand the details of these new crops more thoroughly.

After exchanging greetings and taking their seats, Jiang Ji noticed several handwritten planting guides laid beside Lord Chen’s hand.

Lord Chen, noticing Jiang Ji’s gaze, picked one up with a smile. “Magistrate Xu told me these were compiled by you?”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Yes, sir. They’re for teaching people how to plant properly.”

Lord Chen nodded approvingly. “Very thoughtful—and clearly written too. Simple, practical, and easy to understand. Well done.”

“You’ve read them, sir?” Jiang Ji asked, surprised.

“I have,” said Lord Chen. “I do have a few questions, though. I hope you can help me with them.”

“Please, go ahead,” Jiang Ji said.

Lord Chen flipped open the rice manual to the section on sowing. “Here it says that rice seeds should be started using the moist-bed method. That’s different from the flooded method most people use now. Can you explain this to me?”

So Lord Chen had read the manual carefully. Jiang Ji was delighted—it meant the man truly understood agriculture and genuinely wanted to learn.

He answered, “Sir, the common method we use now is water-seedling raising—keeping the seedbeds flooded. That does help maintain warmth and suppress weeds, but rice seedlings also need air—oxygen, that’s the gas we breathe in. Their roots have to breathe too. When the soil stays completely submerged, there’s not enough air in the mud for the roots, and that causes seed rot or weak seedlings, which lowers survival and makes them grow thinner.”

He continued, “With the moist-bed method, we use raised nursery beds. Between two beds are small ditches for water, so we can easily control the moisture level. This keeps the bed damp but allows plenty of air in the soil. That way the roots grow stronger, and the seedlings are thicker and healthier.”

“There’s also the dry-bed method,” Jiang Ji added. “That one’s for areas without good irrigation—it saves water, but you need higher temperatures for it to work, otherwise the sprouts won’t come out well. That method delays harvest time, which can affect the second rice crop, so it doesn’t suit our region.”

He went on comparing the pros and cons of each technique. Lord Chen and Magistrate Xu listened intently, while Prefect Hu looked like his mind had wandered somewhere far away.

Then Lord Chen asked a few more technical questions—about why potatoes produced smaller yields when reusing old seed tubers, and about crop rotation, intercropping, and mixed planting. Jiang Ji answered each one patiently.

Their discussion lasted quite a while. Lord Chen, being from a farming background himself, nodded repeatedly in approval.

Prefect Hu, who had already finished two cups of tea, saw an opening when they finally paused and quickly steered the talk toward what he considered the main issue.

“Lord Chen, we should also discuss which counties we’re expanding to next.”

“Yes, yes, my fault,” Lord Chen laughed. “I got caught up in our little agricultural talk.” He turned to Jiang Ji. “Brother Jiang, Magistrate Xu mentioned you still have some seeds available. Roughly how much do you have left? We’ll need to decide which counties to send them to.”

Jiang Ji had checked his system the night before. The generous Mr. Xiao had gifted him a large batch of rice seeds, plus more from other supporters—over 2.2 million catties in total. At ten catties per mu, that would cover about 220,000 mu of paddy fields.

Their own county’s supply had already been sold. Most farmers hadn’t dared to replace all their crops with the new rice, usually planting only half their fields with it. The big landlords were the exception. Altogether, the new rice covered roughly 30,000 mu so far.

He had earned more points these past days too, and since he needed to study textile production next—to unlock weaving-machine rewards—he planned to spend those points on cotton seeds to finish that task.

“There’s still plenty of rice seed left,” Jiang Ji said. “Enough for another 180,000 or 190,000 mu of paddies, though the exact number will depend on each county’s farmland. As for cotton, maybe enough for one or two counties. Sweet potatoes are running low, but the sweet—”

“You said yesterday you only had enough for half a county!“ Prefect Hu suddenly slammed the table, furious. “Now you’re saying you have that much?!”

Jiang Ji was cut off mid-sentence. He stared at Prefect Hu, speechless—was the man really outing himself in front of everyone out of pure temper?

Magistrate Xu and Lord Chen both turned toward Prefect Hu.

Realizing his slip, Prefect Hu quickly tried to recover. Years in office had taught him to find excuses fast.

“Ah, Jiang Ji,” he said, forcing a smile, “yesterday I told you that if you had more seeds, our prefecture office could help you distribute them across the region. But you didn’t tell me the truth then, did you? Don’t you trust me?”

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan: …

Magistrate Xu: …

Lord Chen: …

Jiang Ji blinked innocently. “Oh, that? I’d had a bit too much to drink yesterday. I only remembered the corn. What I said about half a county, sir—it was the corn seeds.”

Magistrate Xu: …

Lord Chen: …

Jiang Yan calmly took a sip of tea.

Prefect Hu shot Jiang Ji a dark glare—but almost instantly, his face flipped into a broad smile, changing expressions faster than flipping a page. “Ah, I see. As long as there’s more rice seed, that’s good! That means even more people can plant it.”

“Prefect Hu is right,” Jiang Ji said, pretending not to notice the man’s sudden shift. He then turned to Lord Chen. “Lord Chen, judging from how things went in our county, most people planted half of the new variety and half of the old one. That ratio should probably be factored in. As for which counties to expand to, I’ll leave that to you gentlemen to decide. I just have two small requests.”

“What requests? Speak freely,” said Lord Chen.

“First,” Jiang Ji said, “could our next destination be Pingnan County?”

Jiang Yan glanced at him, lowering his eyes slightly.

Lord Chen agreed readily. “That’s no problem—Pingnan is just next door. Though, are you heading there for some personal matter?”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Yes, we have a relative there, and I’d like to visit while we’re at it.”

“Very well,” said Lord Chen. “And the second request?”

“The second thing,” Jiang Ji continued, “is that I must return before the end of the month. In about half a month—no later than eighteen days—it’ll be time for sowing, and I have to be back in time to plant.”

Lord Chen considered this. “That’s a tight schedule. We’ll have to find ways to save time, then.”

“Actually, sir, I have a suggestion,” Jiang Ji said.

“I’m listening.”

Jiang Ji explained, “If possible, please decide on the target counties as soon as possible—preferably this morning. Then we can distribute the flyers and planting guides in advance, along with some sample seeds. Each county magistrate can then gather their village heads to read the materials aloud—just the first few pages of the flyers and guides will give everyone a clear idea of what these new crops are about.

“When I arrive, I can sell the seeds directly to the county offices, and they can handle distributing them to the villagers. That way, I’ll have enough time to cover multiple counties efficiently. The only thing is—pricing and oversight should be handled by the government side.”

Lord Chen thought for a moment, then asked, “Will your merchant partner be able to deliver the seeds on time?”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Yes, but they’ll need advance notice to prepare storage—either a warehouse or a manor outside the city, so they won’t get stuck outside if the city gates close. They usually travel overnight with the goods.”

Magistrate Xu glanced at Jiang Ji but said nothing.

After some quiet discussion between the officials, Lord Chen nodded. “Alright, we’ll go with your plan.”

They talked for quite some time before deciding on six counties in total.

Curious, Jiang Ji asked Lord Chen, “Sir, there are seven counties altogether—aren’t you afraid that if the rice yield doesn’t turn out as expected, there’ll be trouble later?”

Lord Chen replied, “There’s always risk. But as long as your rice yields reach even sixty or seventy percent of the usual harvest, the farmers won’t lose money. And the rice from your seeds tastes far better than ordinary rice—we’ve all tried it. If it tastes good, it’ll sell well, even at a higher price. That alone makes up for any small loss in yield. Of course, if it produces more, that’s even better.”

Hearing that, Jiang Ji relaxed—clearly they’d already done the math.

He and Jiang Yan went back and rewrote a new version of the flyers and planting instructions, handing them to Magistrate Xu for printing.

“Oh, one more thing, Lord Chen,” Jiang Ji added. “We can’t depart until the day after tomorrow.”

Lord Chen, who had planned to leave that afternoon, looked up. “Why? Do you still have business here?”

Jiang Ji smiled. “Our potatoes are ready to plant. I’d like to finish that first. Don’t worry—it’ll only take one day. You can go ahead and make preparations; Pingnan’s not far, and Jiang Yan and I will catch up quickly.”

“Alright,” said Lord Chen. “I’ll have two fast horses prepared for you—you can ride them over.”

“Perfect.”

Once all arrangements were settled, the county office became busy preparing, and Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan returned home.

…

The next day, the entire Shanquan Village began transplanting potatoes, with people from several nearby villages coming to watch and learn.

Once they had learned, they even stayed to help Jiang Ji plant all two acres of his own potato field.

That evening, Jiang Ji invited the village chief and Uncle Tu Gen over, explaining the details of caring for the potato crops and letting them know he’d be gone for half a month, asking them to look after the household.

The village chief patted his shoulder. “Go without worry. We’ll take care of things here.”

After they left, Jiang Ji also went over a few things with Zhao Ru, Jiang Xia, and the twins, Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei.

Jiang Nan patted his chest confidently. “Brother, don’t worry—we’ll listen to Mother and behave.”

Jiang Bei nodded. “Yeah, we’ll help take care of her too.”

Jiang Ji ruffled their hair. “Good boys. You’re little men now—while I’m gone, I’ll be counting on you.”

“Mm!” the twins replied in unison, grinning at each other afterward.

After packing a few changes of clothes, Zhao Ru reminded them, “Be careful on the road. Watch out for each other. Don’t overwork yourselves, and rest when you can.”

“Got it, Mother. Don’t worry.”

Before bed, Jiang Ji asked Jiang Yan, “Do you want a small bag to keep your things in?”

He’d long felt ancient clothing wasn’t practical—everything fell out too easily.

Since Jiang Yan only carried a few things—some silver notes and a jade pendant—Jiang Ji exchanged for a small black leather waist pouch.

“Here, use this.” Jiang Ji unzipped it. “Put your silver notes and pendant in here, then zip it up. It’s secure and won’t fall out—much safer than our clothes’ pockets.”

Jiang Yan examined the little bag, tugged the zipper a few times, then put in his things and zipped it closed. “Do I wear it across my chest like you do? The strap doesn’t seem long enough.”

“No, no—it’s worn around the waist. Like this. Watch.”

“Press here to open.” Jiang Ji clicked open the buckle, then looped the pouch around Jiang Yan’s waist. “Now just clip it together—like that. Try it.”

Jiang Yan found the thing rather curious. He tried it twice himself and nodded. “This is good—very practical.”

“Right? I’m giving it to you,” said Jiang Ji cheerfully. “You can use it to carry little things from now on.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

“No need to be polite.”

…

The next morning, after breakfast, the whole family gathered by the gate to see them off.

Zhao Ru looked at Jiang Ji with worry, reminding him over and over, “You brought enough money, right? Make sure you have enough.”

“I did, Mother. Don’t worry. I’m going out to make money—when I come back, I’ll bring more with me.”

Zhao Ru smiled faintly and patted his arm, her eyes already moist. “You’ve never been that far from home before. Be careful, alright?”

“I will.”

Then she turned to Jiang Yan and patted his arm too. “Take care of yourself—and bring him back safely.”

“Yes, Auntie. Don’t worry, I’ll look after him,” Jiang Yan said calmly.

“Good,” she said. “I can rest easy with you around.”

Seeing Zhao Ru like this, Jiang Ji also felt a lump rise in his throat. He hugged her tightly. “Mother, we’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.”

“Alright, alright. Go on now. Don’t keep the officials waiting.”

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan waved goodbye and set off. Zhao Ru and the rest stood at the gate, watching until the two figures disappeared down the road before going back inside.

The pair first went to the county yamen. Lord Chen had already left two days earlier, but as promised, he had left two horses for them. Prefect Hu wasn’t going; he had sent one of his agricultural officers to assist Lord Chen instead.

Prefect Hu himself happened to be at the yamen as well, preparing to return to the prefectural office.

When Jiang Ji saw the two horses, a thought suddenly struck him. “Wait—I don’t know how to ride.”

Magistrate Xu: “…Then I’ll prepare a carriage for you.”

Jiang Ji turned to Jiang Yan. “Do you know how to ride?”

Jiang Yan thought for a moment. “I… might.”

“…Might? Go try it then.”

Jiang Yan really did lead one of the horses out, mounted it in a single smooth motion, and once he took the reins and lightly pressed his legs to the horse’s flanks, the animal started trotting forward. His posture looked steady—surprisingly natural.

“Wow, you actually can ride!” Jiang Ji’s eyes widened.

Magistrate Xu: …

Jiang Yan circled the courtyard once, then dismounted neatly. “We’ll go on horseback.”

Jiang Ji hesitated. “Uh… I can’t, though, big brother.”

“I’ll take you with me,” said Jiang Yan. “We’ll lead the other horse along and take turns riding. We’ll get there quickly that way.”

“Oh. That works too.”

They switched to a double saddle. Jiang Ji climbed up first, then Jiang Yan mounted behind him. After bidding farewell to the officials, they rode out of the county gate together.

At the same time, Prefect Hu boarded his own carriage with his attendants and slowly left the yamen as well.

Inside the carriage, his adviser leaned closer and whispered, “My lord, don’t you think that Jiang Yan looks… familiar?”

Prefect Hu was already in a sour mood from coming away empty-handed. “What, you know that kid?”

“I don’t,” the adviser said, frowning in thought. “But I feel like I’ve seen his face somewhere before.”

“If you don’t know him, how could he look familiar? He’s just a village nobody. You’ve never even been to this county,” scoffed Prefect Hu, closing his eyes to rest. A maid beside him was gently massaging his legs.

The adviser’s brows furrowed deeper as he tried to recall. He really did think he’d seen that face somewhere… and after a while, his eyes suddenly lit up.

“My lord! I remember why he looked familiar!”

Prefect Hu, half-dozing, was startled awake. “What are you shouting for?!”

“Forgive me, my lord,” the adviser quickly apologized, then pointed upward slightly and whispered, “Don’t you think Jiang Yan looks like him?”

Prefect Hu yawned. “Who?”

“The Regent Prince,” the adviser said, enunciating each word. “Lu Huaizhou.”

Prefect Hu’s eyes snapped open. “Who did you say?!”

“The Regent Prince, Lu Huaizhou,” the adviser repeated. “You have a portrait of him, don’t you? I’ve seen it. He really looks like that Jiang Yan.”

Prefect Hu had never actually met the Regent in person, but being a cautious official, he’d paid someone in the capital to send him a portrait—just in case he ever did.

Now, thinking of that portrait… and trying to recall Jiang Yan’s face…

Wait—what did Jiang Yan look like again?

Prefect Hu realized he hadn’t really paid much attention before—just a vague impression: pale skin, tall build.

“Jiang Yan looks like the Regent, does he?” Prefect Hu snorted. “Then that boy’s got a fine face, I suppose.”

“I’m serious,” the adviser said. “They really do look alike. You don’t think they could be brothers, do you?”

Prefect Hu let out a sharp laugh. “Brothers? Are you out of your mind? How could the Regent’s brother be living out here in the sticks?”

The adviser thought about it—it did sound absurd. The Regent’s father was a Grand Scholar, and his maternal uncles were both generals. He’d heard the Regent had a younger brother around seventeen or eighteen… no way that could be Jiang Yan.

Still, the resemblance nagged at him. It was uncanny.

On the official road south of the city, the horses galloped in a cloud of dust, trees whipping past on either side in streaks of green.

“Wow! I didn’t know horseback riding could be this fast! This is amazing!”

It was Jiang Ji’s first time on horseback. Sitting in front, arms spread wide, he yelled excitedly into the rushing wind.

Jiang Yan held the reins with one hand and steadied himself with the other, gripping the saddle ring near Jiang Ji’s waist. Seeing Jiang Ji’s ecstatic antics, he could only sigh.

“Sit still. Stop moving around, or you’ll fall off.”

Jiang Ji just laughed. “But it feels so great!”

Jiang Yan gave up and slowed the horse a little.

“Hey, hey, don’t slow down! Faster, Jiang Yan! Faster! Yah!” Jiang Ji kicked the horse’s belly lightly, and it sped up again.

Jiang Yan: “…”

He smacked Jiang Ji’s thigh lightly. “Stop that! Falling off a horse isn’t funny. Hold on tight!”

“Ow—ow, fine, fine, I’ll hold on, alright?” Jiang Ji yelped, pulling his hand back—only to accidentally grab Jiang Yan’s instead.

He glanced down, then quickly shifted his grip to the side, muttering, “There’s barely any space on this handle anyway. You can hold it if you want. You’ve got your arms around me already—how could I fall off?”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Jiang Yan was tall and broad-shouldered, while Jiang Ji was smaller and slighter. Sharing a saddle, Jiang Yan held the reins with one hand and the handle with the other, effectively caging Jiang Ji against his chest, secure and steady.

“I may have lost my memory,” Jiang Yan said lowly near his ear, “so I don’t know how skilled I am at riding. Just behave and don’t move.”

The deep voice right beside his ear made Jiang Ji scratch at it awkwardly. “Oh… alright.”

He stayed quiet for a while, but soon turned his head again. “Hey, Jiang Yan—”

As he spoke, his nose brushed right past Jiang Yan’s lips, cutting his words short. Jiang Ji froze, staring at the man’s face so close to his own that he forgot what he was saying.

He hadn’t realized their faces were that near—just a small turn and they’d touched. He could feel Jiang Yan’s breath on his skin, ticklish and warm.

And—why the lips? Shouldn’t it have been the cheek at most?

Jiang Ji turned back around quickly and rubbed at his nose.

Jiang Yan paused for a heartbeat, glanced at him, then looked straight ahead again. “What did you say?” he asked beside his ear.

Jiang Ji tilted his head. “Oh, I was asking if you remembered anything.”

The wind was loud; Jiang Yan didn’t catch it and leaned closer, ear brushing near Jiang Ji’s lips. “What?”

Jiang Ji: “…”

He gave up, turned around, and cupped a hand around Jiang Yan’s ear. Leaning in, he shouted, “You can ride a horse—so I asked if it reminded you of anything! Did you hear that?”

Jiang Yan nodded, indeed feeling that the speed, the wind, and the rhythmic pounding hooves stirred a faint, familiar sense within him.

When he didn’t reply, Jiang Ji turned again. “So? Did it come back to you?”

Jiang Yan glanced down at him and shook his head. “No. Just… feels familiar.”

“Oh, got it.”

He turned his head, his posture crooked. Jiang Yan’s arm tightened around his waist. “Sit properly. Stop wriggling.”

“…Fine.”

Pingnan County was only seventy or eighty li from Changping. They changed horses once and arrived in about an hour.

It hadn’t felt too bad while riding, just bumpy, but once they dismounted at the county office, Jiang Ji’s legs gave out beneath him—he nearly stumbled.

Jiang Yan reached out immediately, steadying him with an arm around his waist. “You alright?”

Clinging to his back, Jiang Ji looked up pitifully. “Why do my legs feel weak?”

Jiang Yan chuckled softly. “You’re just sore from the long ride. It’s normal for a first time.”

“Oh.” Jiang Ji clung to his shoulder and tried to walk, only to suck in a sharp breath through his teeth.

“What is it?” Jiang Yan asked, looking down.

Jiang Ji rubbed at the inside of his thigh. “It hurts a little.”

“Probably chafed. We’ll check once we’re inside.”

At the gate, they were led to the main hall, where Lord Chen and the local county magistrate were already waiting.

Lord Chen stood with a smile. “You made good time.”

Jiang Ji grinned. “It’s thanks to the horses you left us, sir—they run fast.”

Lord Chen introduced them to the county magistrate and said, “Brother Jiang, it’s about lunchtime. Shall we talk while we eat?”

“Sounds good.”

Jiang Yan asked the magistrate, “Sir, would there be a spare room? We should wash up first.”

“Oh yes, yes—my oversight,” the magistrate said. “You’ve come a long way on horseback; of course you should rest and freshen up.”

He called for attendants to show them to a prepared guest room.

Once inside, they set down their packs. Jiang Yan lifted his chin slightly. “Take off your pants—let’s check your leg.”

Jiang Ji didn’t bother pretending to be shy. He pulled them down and looked.

Facing away, Jiang Yan asked, “How is it?”

“It’s red.” Jiang Ji touched the spot—it was hot and stung. “Hurts a bit when I press it.”

“Let me see.” Jiang Yan turned around and found Jiang Ji half-undressed, one trouser leg off. From the knee down his skin was tanned, but his thighs were pale enough to catch the light. The inside of his thigh was indeed bright red.

Jiang Yan crouched down for a closer look. “No broken skin. Wait here—I’ll get some ointment.”

He came back quickly. Jiang Ji had already washed his face and gotten dressed.

Handing him the medicine, Jiang Yan asked, “The other side’s not rubbed raw, is it?”

“No, it’s fine. Should be better by tomorrow after some ointment.” Jiang Ji took it and pulled his pants down again to apply it.

Watching the red patch on his leg, Jiang Yan couldn’t help but chuckle. “Didn’t expect your skin to be that delicate.”

Jiang Ji looked up, unconvinced. “This area never gets any use, of course it’s soft. What, your inner thigh isn’t?”

Jiang Yan shook his head. “I rode the same distance and I’m fine.”

Jiang Ji pouted. “I don’t believe you—prove it.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

He turned away and started washing his face instead.

“What are you walking off for? Seeing is believing, you know. I won’t believe you till I see it. Maybe you’re lying!”

Jiang Yan ignored him.

Once Jiang Ji finished applying the ointment and pulled his trousers back on, he lunged and wrapped his arms around Jiang Yan. “Come on—show me!”

Jiang Yan, steady as a rock, barely budged at the sudden attack. “I told you, I’m telling the truth.”

“You’re bluffing,” Jiang Ji accused. “You’re definitely hiding it!”

He reached for Jiang Yan’s waistband with a mischievous grin. “Heh, fine, I’ll check myself then!”

Jiang Yan grabbed his hand in an instant. “Stop messing around.”

“I just want to see what this ‘not-soft’ thigh looks like—”

One trying to look, the other trying to block him—in the scuffle, Jiang Ji accidentally bumped into a nearby shelf and lost his balance, falling backward.

“Careful.” Jiang Yan quickly caught him around the waist before he could fall.

Pulled straight into Jiang Yan’s arms, Jiang Ji looked up in surprise—right into his eyes.

For a moment, neither spoke. Their gazes locked, and even the air between them seemed to still.

After a few heartbeats, Jiang Ji blinked and came back to himself. Standing upright again, he said, “…Almost fell. Thanks.”

“Mm. Be careful,” Jiang Yan replied, letting go and turning to hang the towel back on the rack.

From outside came a call: “Brothers, are you done washing up? The officials are waiting for you to eat!”

“Coming!” Jiang Ji rubbed at his nose and said to Jiang Yan, “I bet you used to ride a lot before, that’s why it doesn’t hurt—you’re used to it.”

Jiang Yan glanced at him and nodded. “Mm. Probably.”

“Come on then, let’s eat.” Jiang Ji opened the door and walked out first.

“Alright.”

Jiang Yan watched his back for a second, then followed after him.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Ch 39: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

“Where is he?” Magistrate Xu shot to his feet.

The yamen runner wiped the sweat from his forehead—he had clearly run all the way there. “He should… he should already be on the country road, sir. I came ahead to report first.”

“Good, I understand.” Magistrate Xu thought for a moment, then walked over to Jiang Ji and whispered, “The Prefect has arrived—he’ll be here any moment.”

“What? The Prefect?” Jiang Ji paused mid-writing. He remembered what Magistrate Xu had said about this man’s greed and frowned. “Why is he coming now, of all times? We’re in the middle of work.”

Magistrate Xu lowered his voice. “Just stay put and keep busy. I’ll receive him myself. If he asks to see you, I’ll call you over. But be prepared.”

“Alright. Thank you, sir.”

Magistrate Xu went to the gate with his attendants to greet the visitor. Jiang Ji leaned toward Jiang Yan and murmured, “We should stay sharp—keep an eye out.”

Jiang Yan nodded.

About fifteen minutes later, two carriages stopped at the entrance to the manor. From one of them stepped a man nearing fifty, heavyset and richly dressed, assisted down by attendants.

Magistrate Xu and his men were already waiting at the gate. As soon as they saw him, they bowed deeply. “This humble official greets Your Excellency.”

The Prefect’s name was Hu Yuanwu. He wasn’t wearing his formal robe; instead, he held a string of prayer beads, rolling them idly between his fingers.

He first glanced around the manor yard, noting the villagers carrying sacks of seeds, before finally looking at Magistrate Xu. “Hmm. So this is the place selling those new rice seeds you mentioned?”

“Yes, Your Excellency,” Magistrate Xu replied with a nod. “Would you care to step inside and take a look?”

“Let’s go.” Prefect Hu lifted his chin slightly, signaling for Magistrate Xu to lead the way.

Magistrate Xu walked ahead, giving a report on their progress as they went.

Prefect Hu had brought about a dozen people with him—not only his adviser, clerks, and guards, but also two maidservants. The whole entourage looked imposing as they entered the manor.

Many villagers, upon seeing Magistrate Xu, greeted him warmly. When they noticed the richly dressed man following beside him, they quickly stepped aside to make way, sensing he must be someone of high rank.

Magistrate Xu had planned to welcome Prefect Hu into the main hall first—it had already been cleared and cleaned, perfect for receiving guests—but Prefect Hu waved his hand. “Let’s go to the back and see where the seeds are being sold.”

Magistrate Xu paused briefly, then led the group toward the rear warehouse.

Villagers were lined up there in neat order, some entering while others exited, each carrying baskets of seeds. Everything ran smoothly.

Prefect Hu glanced at the baskets filled with sweet potatoes and potatoes, then looked toward the entrance where two tables had been set up. Beside each table stood a large wooden chest—both nearly filled with copper coins and broken pieces of silver.

He looked into the warehouse, seeing that about half the stock of seeds was already gone. “How many people have bought so far?” he asked.

“Reporting to Your Excellency,” said Magistrate Xu respectfully, bowing his head. “About sixty to seventy percent of the villagers have purchased already.”

Prefect Hu pointed toward the room. “There’s still thirty or forty percent left. That doesn’t seem like enough seeds to supply the rest, does it?”

Magistrate Xu glanced at him and replied, “Indeed, but there’s another warehouse.”

“Oh? Is that so? Take me to see it.”

Magistrate Xu hesitated briefly. “Yes, it’s this way, please follow me, Your Excellency.”

He discreetly signaled to his adviser to fetch the key from Jiang Ji.

Jiang Ji came over with the adviser and opened the warehouse door.

Full—stacked to the rafters.

Prefect Hu’s eyes gleamed as he looked over the piles of seed sacks. He rolled the prayer beads in his hand and nodded approvingly. “Excellent. Magistrate Xu, you’ve done well to discover these high-yield rice seeds and new crop varieties, and to distribute them so quickly across the county. This is a great achievement—a true blessing for the people.”

“I am only doing my duty,” Magistrate Xu said humbly with a slight bow. “And actually, these rice and crop seeds weren’t brought back by me—they were brought by a villager here. I merely assisted in promoting them. I dare not claim credit.”

“Ah, Magistrate Xu, you are too modest.” Prefect Hu smiled broadly, his tone oily with flattery. “Under your governance, the people of Changping County live in peace and prosperity. You deserve great merit. I shall certainly report this to my superiors and recommend you for commendation.”

“Thank you, Your Excellency,” Magistrate Xu replied, clasping his hands and bowing slightly. “Your Excellency, the sun is rather strong out here. You must be tired from your long journey. How about we move to the front hall for some rest? Later, when we return to the city, I’ll host a banquet in your honor.”

“Hmm, very well. Let’s sit up front for a bit first.” Prefect Hu patted his round belly and nodded.

Magistrate Xu gave Jiang Ji a subtle look, then led Prefect Hu toward the main hall.

On the way, Prefect Hu made a few polite remarks before asking casually, “You mentioned that the villager who brought the seeds is here? I’d like to meet him.”

Magistrate Xu paused slightly, then replied, “I’ll send someone to bring him over right away.”

Not long after, Jiang Ji was summoned to the main hall. Jiang Yan, uneasy about the situation, followed with him.

As they entered, they caught sight of Prefect Hu spitting the tea he’d just sipped back into his cup.

Jiang Ji: “…”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Magistrate Xu immediately stood and apologized, “My apologies, Your Excellency. This is a rural place; we don’t have any good tea to offer.”

“It’s fine. Let me share some of mine.” Prefect Hu wiped his mouth and waved his hand.

At once, his two maids brought out fine porcelain cups and began brewing tea from a canister of leaves they had brought with them.

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan exchanged a brief look, composed their expressions, and stepped forward together. They clasped their hands and bowed. “This humble commoner greets Your Excellencies.”

Prefect Hu looked them over. Both were dressed plainly in coarse short-sleeved shirts—the garb of peasants. One was dark-skinned and straightforward-looking; the other was fairer, appearing quiet and honest.

He turned to Magistrate Xu. “These two?”

“Yes, Your Excellency.” Magistrate Xu observed the pair—unlike their usual sharp, confident demeanor, they now appeared simple and deferential. He wasn’t sure what game they were playing, but said nothing. Instead, he gestured toward them and introduced, “Your Excellency, these are the two young men—this one is Jiang Ji, and that one is Jiang Yan.”

Then he turned to them. “This is Prefect Hu.”

The two bowed again. “Greetings, Prefect Hu.”

“No need for excessive formality. Sit.” Prefect Hu gestured to the seats beside him.

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan sat down.

Magistrate Xu didn’t continue the conversation, leaving room for the Prefect to speak. The maids served tea, and Prefect Hu motioned to them. “Pour for the two young men as well.”

The maids handed each of them a cup.

“This is tea I got from a friend,” Prefect Hu said with a smile. “Have a taste.”

After a few sips, Magistrate Xu commented, “Rich aroma, clear liquor, and a lingering aftertaste—a fine tea indeed.”

Prefect Hu smiled, rolling his prayer beads. He turned to Jiang Ji. “And what do you think?”

Jiang Ji scratched his head and replied, “This humble villager isn’t refined enough to know good tea from bad, but since Your Excellency offered it, it must be good—and it tastes fine to me.”

Prefect Hu burst into hearty laughter. “As long as it tastes good, that’s what matters.”

He then asked, “I heard from Magistrate Xu that these seeds were brought from the south?”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Prefect Hu continued, “You bought them from a traveling merchant, then?”

“Yes.”

“Oh?” Prefect Hu smiled, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Jiang Ji. “That’s quite a large quantity of seeds. Must have been hard work, hmm?”

“It’s alright, I had some help,” Jiang Ji replied with an easy smile.

Prefect Hu’s expression was kindly. “Young man, bringing in these seeds is a great merit. Magistrate Xu told me you even recorded and organized all the planting methods yourself—excellent work. Keep it up. If the crops grow well and yield a good harvest this summer, I shall personally petition the court to recognize your service. The imperial government will surely reward you.”

He sounded every bit the benevolent official, offering grand promises. Jiang Ji played along, standing up and bowing gratefully. “Thank you, sir. I just wanted everyone to harvest more grain and not go hungry.”

“Ah, what an honest young man.” Prefect Hu smiled warmly. “No need for such formality—sit, sit.” Then he turned to Magistrate Xu. “Magistrate Xu, this young fellow is remarkable, isn’t he?”

Magistrate Xu nodded repeatedly. “Indeed, Your Excellency is right. Young Jiang Ji has a generous heart.”

Prefect Hu chatted a little longer with polite flattery before suddenly waving a hand to his adviser. The adviser immediately led everyone else out of the hall.

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan exchanged a quick look—they both knew this was where the real conversation would begin.

Magistrate Xu glanced at Jiang Ji, then asked uncertainly, “Your Excellency, what is this about?”

Prefect Hu smiled. “Nothing much. I just wish to discuss a small matter with this young man.”

Magistrate Xu quickly stood. “Oh, then perhaps I should—”

“No, no need,” Prefect Hu waved his hand. “You stay. Just listen.”

So Magistrate Xu sat back down.

The hall fell silent—you could hear a pin drop.

Prefect Hu took a sip of tea and began, “Now then, these high-yield rice seeds and new crops are a fine thing indeed. I would like to promote them throughout the entire prefecture, so that everyone can plant them, have good harvests, and fill their bellies. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

Magistrate Xu nodded. “A good thing, of course.”

Jiang Ji nodded too. “That’s what I think as well.”

Prefect Hu smiled broadly. “Excellent. It’s wonderful that you’re willing to expand this across the prefecture. But you see, young man, your family’s means are limited and you don’t have enough people to handle this properly. So here’s what I suggest—bring this merchant of yours to meet me. I’ll speak with him directly and have him deliver more seeds here. Then the prefectural office can assign men to distribute them. That way, some areas can still catch the spring planting season. Don’t you think that would be much faster?”

Magistrate Xu: “…”
Jiang Ji, Jiang Yan: “…”

Jiang Ji scratched his head. “Well, to be honest, Your Excellency, I do want to spread these seeds around, but my family is poor—we also rely on selling them to make a little money to live.”

Prefect Hu raised his brows. “You’ve already sold enough seed to supply an entire county! That should be more than enough for your family to live comfortably for life. My young friend, you’re no longer struggling to eat—but across the prefecture, countless common folk are still starving. Can you bear to let that happen?”

Jiang Yan and Magistrate Xu: “…”
Jiang Ji: “…It’s really not that much money.”

Prefect Hu continued earnestly, tone dripping with moral righteousness. “This new seed is a blessing for the people of the whole prefecture. To ensure everyone can eat, rest assured—the government won’t take a single coin in profit. Whatever price the merchant sells to us for, that exact price will be passed to the villagers.”

Jiang Ji clasped his hands. “Such integrity! I deeply admire Your Excellency’s virtue.”

Prefect Hu sighed with mock humility. “It’s my duty as the parent official of Yun Prefecture—I must think of all my people’s hunger.”

Jiang Ji blinked innocently and followed up smoothly, “You’re truly kind, Your Excellency. In that case, why don’t I write a letter to the merchants, asking them to send as many seeds as possible to each county directly? That way, villagers can buy straight from them, and it’ll save you the trouble of managing all this personally. How about that?”

Prefect Hu: “…”

Magistrate Xu looked at Jiang Ji, lips twitching.

Jiang Yan took a calm sip of tea, hiding the smirk in his eyes.

Prefect Hu’s smile froze. He stared at the dark-skinned youth before him, trying to tell whether he was being deliberately obtuse. But no matter how he looked, the boy seemed perfectly sincere—straightforward, even grateful.

The prefect’s jaw ached with frustration. How can someone this simple be so difficult to handle?

He couldn’t just spell out what he wanted—not with Magistrate Xu sitting right there. The man was upright and incorruptible; if he caught wind of anything shady, he might even report it to the provincial governor.

Prefect Hu had hoped to take the clean, “official” route, but it was clear now—he’d need to find another opportunity to meet these two brothers privately.

He forced a genial smile. “Ah, young man, you don’t quite understand. As the Prefect of this region, I naturally have certain administrative privileges—it’s much easier for me to arrange these things.”

“Oh, then why don’t you issue an official decree to the other county magistrates?” Jiang Ji suggested brightly. “If they all cooperate like Magistrate Xu here, it’ll spread quickly!”

Prefect Hu looked at him, then at Magistrate Xu, and let out a laugh that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yes, Magistrate Xu is truly a model of benevolence—an example to his peers.”

Jiang Ji nodded earnestly. “Yes, coordination between the county offices is key. That’s the fastest way to spread it.”

Prefect Hu: “…”

“Well then,” he said finally, forcing his tone back to polite calm, “why don’t you think it over? I’ve just arrived and I’m rather tired. I’ll return to the county to rest, and we can talk more another day.”

He set down his teacup, turned to Magistrate Xu, and said, “Magistrate Xu, shall we head back?”

Magistrate Xu rose and replied smoothly, “You’ve worked hard, Your Excellency. I’ll accompany you back. Jiang Ji, take care of things here.”

“Yes, sir.” Jiang Ji stood, and he and Jiang Yan escorted the two officials out of the manor.

Watching the carriage disappear down the road, Jiang Ji’s expression changed—his previously naive look vanished as he crossed his arms and muttered, “That man really has no shame.”

“He’ll probably come back,” Jiang Yan said, glancing at him. “You acted the part well.”

“Heh, nothing to it.” Jiang Ji slung an arm over Jiang Yan’s shoulder. “Come on, back to work. Still plenty of people waiting.”

Jiang Yan glanced at the hand on his shoulder, then nodded. “Mm. Let’s go.”

The two of them walked back, shoulder to shoulder.

When Zhao Ru heard that the prefect had come, she hurried from the kitchen to find them. Seeing they’d returned safely, she asked in a low voice, “You’re alright?”

“Mother, we’re fine. Don’t worry.”

“Truly?”

“Truly. I can handle it.”

Only then did Zhao Ru relax and return to the kitchen.

…

The next day, Prefect Hu and Magistrate Xu didn’t show up. Instead, Hu’s adviser came with the assistant magistrate and met with Jiang Ji privately. He said that once the seed sale was finished, Prefect Hu would host a banquet in the city to honor him.

Jiang Ji acted surprised and grateful, agreeing readily.

Another day passed. By midday, all the seeds were finally sold out. While Zhao Ru and the village head’s family cleaned up the manor, Jiang Ji borrowed Magistrate Xu’s carriage. He and Jiang Yan loaded the large chests filled with silver coins onto it and went back to town with the yamen runners, then headed straight to the money exchange to trade them for silver notes.

There was so much silver that it filled several chests. Jiang Ji didn’t dare keep it at home—it wasn’t safe—so after discussing it with Zhao Ru, he decided to send everything to the exchange while they had the yamen guards as protection.

The counting took a long time. Most villagers had paid in copper coins or small pieces of silver; only the minor landlords had paid with silver notes. Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan counted once, the moneychanger’s clerks counted again—it wasn’t until mid-afternoon that the total was confirmed.

Twenty-seven thousand eight hundred taels. Jiang Ji converted nearly all of it into silver notes—some in large denominations, some smaller—and stored them separately, leaving only a little loose silver for personal use.

When they left the exchange, neither of them had eaten lunch yet. Jiang Ji dragged Jiang Yan into a restaurant and ordered a private room.

After ordering dishes, he told Jiang Yan to keep an eye on the door, then quickly pulled a modern shoulder bag out of his system’s storage. He packed all the silver notes inside, keeping only a bit of silver for the evening’s banquet.

He slung the small bag under his inner clothes, then put on a thicker outer layer. His waist looked a little bulky, but it was safer that way. The pockets on ancient clothing just couldn’t be trusted.

…

That evening, Jiang Ji hosted a banquet at the best restaurant in town for the yamen runners, the two bookkeepers, and Magistrate Xu’s adviser. Since Magistrate Xu and the assistant magistrate had to avoid appearances of favoritism, they didn’t attend; Jiang Ji planned to invite them privately in a few days.

After the meal, Jiang Ji discreetly handed each yamen runner a silver note worth ten taels.

By the time dinner ended, the city gates were already closed. He and Jiang Yan found an inn and stayed the night. The next morning, they stopped by the county office to greet Magistrate Xu before hurrying home.

Once home, Jiang Ji used his points to exchange for a sturdy wooden chest and a modern safe.

He placed all the silver notes inside the wooden box and handed it to Zhao Ru.

“Mother, we made twenty-seven thousand eight hundred taels this time. Here are twenty-seven thousand in silver notes. Only you, Jiang Yan, and I—and the money exchange clerks—know how much we earned. Everything goes in this safe.”

Zhao Ru stared at the thick stack of notes, eyes wide. “You said how much?”

“Twenty-seven thousand eight hundred or so.”

Her hands trembled as she held the chest. “T-twenty-seven thousand eight hundred?”

“Yes.” Jiang Ji clasped her shaking hands gently. “Mother, we’ll make even more in the future, so be prepared.”

“Good heavens, that much!” Zhao Ru had never seen so many silver notes in her life. Nearly faint with excitement, she hurriedly shoved the chest back into Jiang Ji’s hands. “Quick, put it away! You said it goes in that box? Hurry—lock it up, I’ll find a lock!”

Jiang Ji laughed, catching her by the arm. “Mother, this box doesn’t use a regular lock. It’s a divine one—let me show you.”

He placed the money chest inside the safe, reset the passcode to the date he’d first arrived in this world, and then showed Zhao Ru how to open it.

Just one look at the box told Zhao Ru it was something otherworldly—made of material she didn’t recognize, with markings she couldn’t read—but she memorized the positions and order of the buttons.

With both a passcode and a key, Jiang Ji had her practice twice until he was sure she remembered.

“This is much safer than our wooden chests,” Zhao Ru said, hefting the heavy safe. “Is it made of iron?”

Not knowing how to explain stainless steel, Jiang Ji nodded. “Something like that. Oh, and Mother—don’t tell Jiang Nan or Jiang Bei how much we actually made.”

Zhao Ru nodded. “I understand. What about the rest of the village?”

“Don’t give exact numbers—just say we earned a bit. Tonight, let’s invite the village head and Uncle Tu Gen for dinner to thank them for their help. I already gave the yamen brothers ten taels each as thanks, and I was thinking of giving the same to Uncle Tu Gen and the others. Do you think that’s alright?”

Jiang Ji wasn’t sure what was proper for village etiquette when it came to showing gratitude with money.

There were twelve people in total who’d helped: nine men including the village head and Uncle Tu Gen, and three women—Aunt Xiufang, the village head’s wife, and his daughter-in-law.

“That’s fine,” Zhao Ru said. In the past, she would’ve been reluctant to part with that much silver—but now, though she still winced inwardly, she knew it had to be done.

After a moment of thought, she asked, “Do you still have new seeds?”

“I do. Why?”

“You said we were going to plant that chili pepper, didn’t you?” Zhao Ru said. “Let them plant some too. It doesn’t matter how much—they’ll understand we’re showing goodwill. If they want to grow it, good; if not, that’s fine too.”

“Alright, that’s fine.”

These people had all seen the chests full of silver—so they could more or less guess how much Jiang Ji had earned. Winning them over now would make things much easier in the future.

Jiang Ji then asked, “By the way, is the manor all cleaned up?”

“It’s done. Everything’s been tidied. We used our own bedding, didn’t touch theirs. Oh, here’s the key.” Zhao Ru took the key from her chest pocket and handed it to Jiang Ji.

“Good. Tomorrow I’ll return it to the Lin family and thank them properly.” Jiang Ji took the key to Lin Manor, then handed her the key to the safe. “Mother, keep this one safe.”

“Alright.” Zhao Ru wrapped the safe in a piece of black cloth. “Will mice bite through this thing?”

“They can’t.”

Zhao Ru hesitated about where to put it. She first tried under the bed, but after thinking for a bit, she carried it back out. Jiang Ji watched as she fetched a hoe, moved aside two clothing chests, lifted the wooden boards beneath them, and started digging a large hole in the floor.

“Mother, you’re putting it in there?”

“Yes, it’s safer this way.”

Jiang Ji blinked. “Then let’s take out a bit of money first so you don’t have to dig it up every time.”

“Alright, go ahead.”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment, opened the safe, and took out a silver note worth a thousand taels.

When Zhao Ru finished digging, she found a wooden box big enough to hold the safe, placed it inside, then buried it under the floor again.

Finally, she replaced the boards and set the clothing chests back in place, covering every trace of the digging.

Jiang Ji: … This was extreme security.

Even if thieves came and rummaged through everything, they’d never think to pry up the floorboards beneath the chests.

Around noon, one of Prefect Hu’s attendants arrived to invite Jiang Ji to meet at a restaurant in the city the next day. Jiang Ji agreed.

That night, Jiang Ji’s family prepared good food and wine to host a dinner for everyone who had helped.

During the meal, he mentioned the plan to grow chili peppers. By now, everyone was curious about the new crops Jiang Ji kept introducing. Uncle Tu Gen and the village head immediately said they wanted to plant some, while the younger men—who weren’t heads of their households—said they’d discuss it with their families first.

When the feast ended, Jiang Ji slipped a silver ingot into each person’s hands. Everyone was shocked—it was a ten-tael ingot!

They all hurried to refuse.

But Jiang Ji insisted earnestly, “Uncles, aunties, brothers, please don’t be polite with me. There’ll be many things in the future where I’ll need your help. If you don’t take this, I won’t have the face to ask for help again.”

Seeing his sincerity, everyone smiled and accepted the gift.

…

The next day, Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan went to the city. First they returned the key to the Lin family, then stopped by the county office to greet Magistrate Xu. Around noon, they headed to the restaurant where Prefect Hu had arranged to meet.

When they arrived, they noticed the main hall of the restaurant was completely empty. Curious, they asked the waiter, who told them someone had reserved the entire place.

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan exchanged a glance and followed the waiter upstairs, taking a table by the window, where they could see both the street below and the restaurant entrance.

Not long after they sat down, Prefect Hu entered with his adviser.

After some polite small talk and three rounds of wine, Prefect Hu, having tested Jiang Ji several times without getting a straight answer, gave a subtle signal to his adviser.

The adviser lifted the wine pot, poured Jiang Ji a full cup, and said, “Brother Jiang Ji, tell me—would you like to make even more money? Maybe buy yourself a grand house?”

Jiang Ji had drunk a few cups, but his mind was clear. He nodded readily. “Of course I would! I dream of it. I want to live in a big house and let my mother rest easy.”

“You’re a good, filial son.” The adviser smiled smoothly. “You’ve earned a bit already, yes—but there’s still a long road to real wealth. We happen to have a good way for you to make big money. The only question is—do you want to?”

“What way?” Jiang Ji asked.

Lowering his voice, the adviser said, “Introduce that southern merchant to us. We can expand sales across the entire prefecture. You’ll get a ten-percent share of the profit. How about it?”

Jiang Ji’s eyes widened. “Didn’t you say you weren’t taking any money?”

The adviser laughed awkwardly. “Ah, just a little compensation for labor, you know—distributing seeds takes manpower. You hired the county office and villagers too, didn’t you?”

“Well, that’s true,” Jiang Ji said, nodding vaguely.

Prefect Hu cut in, “So, how many more seeds can this merchant deliver?”

“I’m not sure,” Jiang Ji said, shaking his head. “He told me last time there wasn’t much left. For this spring season, he might only manage one more delivery—probably enough for half a county at most.”

Prefect Hu’s eyes widened. “What? Only that little?”

“Yeah,” Jiang Ji said, swaying a little as if tipsy. “It’s a long trip for him. Honestly, there’s not much profit in it. After paying him for the seeds, I only made a bit over a thousand taels.”

He smacked the table and grabbed the adviser’s arm, complaining tearfully, “A whole county! So many families! I worked day and night for over a month, ran myself ragged—and only made a thousand taels! Tell me, tell me, why is making money so hard?!”

Then he clung to the adviser’s arm, sobbing. “If I set the price high, farmers can’t afford it. If I set it low, I lose money! They were afraid to buy new seeds, so I had to write planting guides and go village to village to teach them! I talked until my mouth went dry and gave away so many sweet potatoes and potatoes just to prove it worked! Sir, why is earning money so hard?!”

The adviser froze completely, not knowing where to put his hands.

Prefect Hu stared at the weeping young man in disbelief, utterly speechless. He began to reconsider whether it was even worth asking further.

Only half a county’s worth of seeds left—and barely any profit to be made. Even if the second rice harvest came, there’d be no more sweet potatoes, potatoes, corn, or cotton left to sell. Just rice seeds wouldn’t bring much.

If there was money to be made, it would have to wait until next spring. Still, he needed to at least find out who that merchant was—or where in the south he came from.

Jiang Yan watched Jiang Ji, the corner of his eye twitching, but still reached over to pull him away from the adviser. “What are you crying for? You drink a little and start bawling—look, you’ve gotten the adviser’s clothes all dirty. Stop crying.”

Jiang Ji turned and clung to Jiang Yan instead, wailing, “Jiang Yan, I’m so tired! How did I work so hard and still earn so little? If I build just one decent house, all the money’s gone—gone!”

Jiang Yan glanced toward the window, then pinched Jiang Ji’s arm lightly, muttering, “…If it’s gone, we’ll just find another way to make money.” He had no idea how to keep this act going.

Jiang Ji suddenly lifted his head from Jiang Yan’s shoulder. “You have a way to make money?”

Jiang Yan shook his head. “No.”

“Then why say that!” Jiang Ji scolded and promptly threw himself back into Jiang Yan’s arms, sobbing harder. Between hiccups he cried out toward Prefect Hu, “Lord Hu! You said you’d teach me how to make money—what do I have to do?”

The noise gave Prefect Hu a headache. He slammed his palm against the table. “Enough! Stop crying!”

Jiang Ji flinched, instantly falling silent—except for a small hiccup. His eyes were red and watery as he looked up at the prefect.

“You—” Prefect Hu pointed at him. “Tell me the merchant’s name and how to contact him.”

“Hic… Your Excellency, there’s no big money to be made in this.”

“Not talking, eh?” Prefect Hu’s patience snapped. He’d been hoping to profit from this seed trade, but now it seemed there were no seeds left—and his temper was already frayed. “Don’t refuse a toast only to be forced to drink the punishment wine! I’m warning you.”

At once, four burly men entered the private room, positioning themselves around Jiang Ji.

Startled, Jiang Ji let out another loud hiccup and shrank against Jiang Yan. “S-sir, what are you doing?”

Jiang Yan immediately stood, one arm shielding Jiang Ji’s shoulders. His voice turned cold. “Lord Hu, as a parent official of the people, are you resorting to coercion and violence?”

Prefect Hu sneered. “And what if I am? When I wish to buy, you must sell.” He rose, wiping his hands and mouth with a cloth, and ordered the men, “Take him. Get me the answers—whatever it takes.”

He tossed the cloth aside and turned to leave.

Just then, the door burst open. Magistrate Xu entered with several yamen officers.

He looked around the room in confusion. “Lord Hu, what’s going on here?”

Prefect Hu frowned. “What are you doing here?”

Seeing Magistrate Xu, Jiang Ji immediately shouted, “Sir! Help me!”

Magistrate Xu glanced at him—tear-streaked and trembling—and frowned. “Lord Hu, may I ask what offense this young man has committed?”

Prefect Hu gave a cold laugh. “Nothing serious. He was disrespectful to me. I was merely going to teach him a small lesson.”

“That’s not true!” Jiang Ji cried. “He demanded the merchant’s name—he wants to buy seeds from him and sell them at higher prices! I wouldn’t tell him, so he ordered his men to seize me and use torture!”

“Utter nonsense!” Prefect Hu snapped. “I am a prefect of the realm—do you think I’d stoop to eyeing your petty profits?”

“Oh?” Magistrate Xu didn’t press further. Instead, he stepped aside to reveal the people behind him. “Lord Hu, the Provincial Inspector has sent someone.”

“The Provincial Inspector?” Prefect Hu froze, and when he saw who it was, his expression soured. “Lord Chen.”

A man in a blue robe stepped forward from behind Magistrate Xu. He scanned the room, then cupped his hands politely toward Prefect Hu. “Lord Hu, the Inspector has sent me with an official letter for both you and Magistrate Xu.”

He drew a folded document from his robe and handed it over.

Prefect Hu accepted it, broke the seal, and read—his face darkened.

“What does the Inspector say?” Magistrate Xu asked.

Prefect Hu thrust the letter toward him and shot him a furious glare.

Magistrate Xu ignored the look, took the letter, and read it carefully. When he finished, he bowed toward the man in blue. “Please convey to the Inspector that I will devote my utmost effort to carrying out this matter.”

Lord Chen nodded, then turned to Prefect Hu. “And you, Lord Hu?”

Prefect Hu’s face was grim, but he nodded stiffly. “I understand. I will not fail in my duty.”

Lord Chen smiled faintly. “The Inspector places great importance on this project. He expects both of you to treat it seriously. He’ll personally come to inspect the results in a month’s time.”

Magistrate Xu bowed again. “Yes, we will ensure it’s done well.”

Prefect Hu nodded. “Understood.”

Then Lord Chen looked toward Jiang Ji. “Which of you is the young man who introduced the high-yield rice and new crops?”

Jiang Ji stepped forward. “That would be me.”

“Ah.” Lord Chen turned to Prefect Hu. “And how, may I ask, did this young man manage to offend you?”

Prefect Hu waved a hand irritably, and the guards released Jiang Ji.

Jiang Ji wiped his face, his eyes now clear and sharp. He stepped forward, bowed low, and said firmly, “Commoner Jiang Ji greets Your Excellency.”

Lord Chen studied him—and the quiet, watchful Jiang Yan behind him. “The Inspector has heard about your introduction of new seeds and crops. He is pleased and considers it an important achievement. He has ordered Prefect Hu and Magistrate Xu to fully support your work in spreading these seeds. I will also visit from time to time to oversee the progress.”

He added, “Please bring in as many seeds as you can, and make sure the people learn how to cultivate them. When the Inspector visits, if the results are satisfactory, he will personally submit a memorial to the court to have you rewarded. Take this seriously.”

Jiang Ji bowed deeply. “Yes, sir. I will not fail his expectations.”

“Excellent.” Lord Chen nodded, then turned to Prefect Hu. “The Inspector also asked me to deliver a few words to you, Lord Hu. Shall we discuss them elsewhere?”

“Of course. Please.”

Prefect Hu followed Lord Chen out to another private room.

Magistrate Xu led Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan downstairs.

At the entrance of the restaurant, Jiang Ji thanked him earnestly. “Sir, thank goodness you came when you did. He was about to have me beaten.”

“Frightened?” Magistrate Xu looked at his face and said dryly, “You cried so loud I could hear it from outside.”

Jiang Ji scratched his head awkwardly. “Ah, there wasn’t much else I could do. Sorry for the spectacle, sir.”

Magistrate Xu lightly tapped him on the shoulder, smiling without replying.

Jiang Ji lowered his voice. “He won’t dare try anything against me again, will he?”

“No, he won’t,” said Magistrate Xu.

Jiang Ji asked softly, “Who is that Lord Chen?”

“He’s the agricultural affairs adviser under the Provincial Inspector’s office,” Xu explained.

“Oh, impressive.” Jiang Ji didn’t really know what that title meant, but he caught the words “agricultural affairs.” In his mind, that probably meant something like the provincial head of agriculture—or even a minister.

Anyway, he was someone in charge of farming, and that was what mattered.

Magistrate Xu asked, “Can you still get more seeds? If you have enough, we can expand distribution to neighboring counties. Lord Chen can order the local governments there to assist you.”

“Yes, I can still get some rice and cotton seeds. A small amount of sweet potato seeds too, but not many left.” (His points were nearly all spent, after all.)

“Then make a rough count of what you have. Come to the county office tomorrow morning to discuss the details with the lord.”

“Alright.”

“Good. Everything’s fine now—you two can head home.”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

The two of them took their leave and exited the city. Jiang Ji let out a long breath of relief. Acting really was exhausting.

That morning, when they’d gone to the county office, Magistrate Xu had already told them that the Provincial Inspector’s envoy had arrived the day before. He’d told them to go to the meeting without worry, and that if they could make Lord Chen personally witness Prefect Hu’s greed, all the better.

So Jiang Ji had put on that whole act just to buy time for Magistrate Xu to bring Lord Chen to the restaurant.

“Magistrate Xu sure has a tough boss,” Jiang Ji sighed. “Even has to play mind games like that.”

Jiang Yan nodded. “The government is like a battlefield.”

“Luckily, it’s settled now!” Jiang Ji stretched his back.

Jiang Yan’s lips curved slightly. “You can finally sleep in peace.”

“Exactly. Come on, let’s go home and get a good rest!” Jiang Ji walked a few steps in high spirits, then said, “Jiang Yan, tomorrow when we meet the lord, let’s suggest sending the remaining seeds to Pingnan County.”

“Sounds good,” Jiang Yan replied.

Jiang Ji turned his head to look at him. “You know, I don’t think you’re from our county.”

Jiang Yan paused. “Why do you say that?”

“Think about it. These past few days we’ve sold seeds to nearly eighty percent of the families in the county—someone from almost every village came, but not one person recognized you. I’m guessing you’re not from around here.”

“Hmm, makes sense.” Jiang Yan asked, “You think it might be Pingnan County?”

“Yeah. Pingnan’s just south of us—maybe seventy or eighty li away. We could go there and have a look. Who knows, maybe we’ll find your family.”

Jiang Yan glanced at him and nodded. “Alright. Let’s go to Pingnan.”

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Ch 38: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

Of the four major households, three had sent people to spy on them—it was clear they wanted to find out where Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan were getting their seeds.

After circling the manor once more to make sure no one was around, the two returned inside, washed up, and got ready for bed.

They slept in the room on the east side of the main hall, which used to house the estate’s workers—a large shared sleeping space.

They had brought their own bedding and pillows from home. Once the blankets were laid out, they both lay down.

Jiang Ji asked, “Do you think they’ll send people again tomorrow?”

“If they come, we’ll deal with them—one by one,” Jiang Yan replied evenly.

“Mm. Three families sent spies, but the Lin family didn’t.” Jiang Ji yawned. “Guess they’re all dying to know who the merchant is.”

Jiang Yan glanced at him but avoided the topic. “Go to sleep. The magistrate’s men should be coming with the list tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I’ll fill up the rooms here first thing in the morning.” Jiang Ji turned on his side to look at him. “You’ve never asked me where the seeds came from.”

“…” Jiang Yan hadn’t expected the direct question. He turned his head toward him. “Aren’t you afraid I might betray you?”

The oil lamp was still burning, casting soft light across the room. Jiang Ji met his gaze and said quietly, “I trust you.”

Jiang Yan held his eyes for a long moment before replying softly, “…Thank you.” Then he added, “But trusting people too easily isn’t always a good thing.”

Jiang Ji grinned. “I don’t trust everyone, you know. You’re different—you’re an upright man.”

Jiang Yan looked at him in silence. The lamplight painted Jiang Ji’s face with a warm orange glow, and tiny sparks of light shimmered in his eyes.

Jiang Ji blinked. “Hey, Jiang Yan, aren’t you even a little curious?”

“I am,” Jiang Yan said, looking away.

“But you’ve never asked.”

“That’s your secret. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

“Heh, see? That’s what makes you dependable—and smart.”

Anyone else, upon discovering Jiang Ji’s mysterious ability to produce strange things from nowhere, would’ve been desperate to find out the truth—or worse, might have turned greedy and dangerous.

But Jiang Yan had never once pried. Instead, he’d focused on protecting him and coming up with ways to help.

The Zhang, Tian, and Sun families had sent spies only to trace the merchant working with Jiang Ji—all for profit.

But Jiang Yan clearly didn’t care about money. That much, Jiang Ji had already noticed.

Jiang Yan was silent for a while before saying, “I don’t even know what kind of person I used to be.”

“As long as you’re a good person now, that’s what matters,” Jiang Ji said casually. “Actually, people tend to show their true nature after losing their memories. Don’t worry—you’re definitely not a bad one.”

Jiang Yan gave him a look, then propped himself up and blew out the small oil lamp on the side table. “Sleep.”

…

The next morning, for convenience, Jiang Ji simply took out a few packs of instant noodles—ones that had been sent as gifts by viewers in his previous life.

“What’s this? Noodles?”

Jiang Yan curiously picked up one of the red, glossy packages. He touched it; the material was smooth and water-resistant, unlike anything he’d seen before.

“It’s called instant noodles,” Jiang Ji said as he boiled water. After getting the fire going, he tore open a pack and pulled out the dry noodle block, explaining, “It’s called instant because it’s quick to cook. Just soak it in boiling water for a few minutes, and it’s ready to eat—but it tastes better boiled.”

Jiang Yan sniffed the dried noodles. “Smells good.”

“They’re fried in oil,” Jiang Ji said. “That’s why they’re so fragrant and springy—you’ll like them.”

When the water boiled, Jiang Yan watched as Jiang Ji opened four packets, dropped the noodle cakes into the pot, and poured in the seasoning packets.

Before long, a rich aroma filled the kitchen—savory, spicy, and mouthwatering.

Jiang Yan stared at the reddish broth. “Why’s the soup red? What’s that red stuff?”

“That’s chili pepper. Ah…” Jiang Ji smacked his forehead. “Right, we don’t have chili peppers in this era. You’ve probably never had them.”

He used a ladle to scoop out most of the red chili oil from the soup.

“Why’d you remove it?” Jiang Yan asked.

“You’ve never had chili before. I don’t want it too spicy for you. If you can handle it later, you can add it back in.”

After a while, Jiang Ji served the noodles into two large bowls, cleaned the pot, and fried two eggs—one for each bowl.

“Alright, done! Time to eat.”

They sat at the kitchen table.

Jiang Yan lifted some noodles with his chopsticks. They were different from any he’d seen—curly, bouncy, almost alive as they wriggled between his chopsticks.

When he took a bite, the first sensation was springiness—then his brows furrowed as a sharp heat spread over his tongue.

“Hiss—” Jiang Yan opened his mouth slightly, tongue tingling. It wasn’t the pain of a bite, but a burning he’d never felt before.

Jiang Ji had been watching him closely. Seeing his frown, he asked, “So? Is it spicy?”

“This is chili flavor?” Jiang Yan asked, blinking. “It feels… stimulating?”

“Yep, that’s chili.” Jiang Ji grinned. “Spicy flavor. Good, right?”

Jiang Yan nodded. “Good. It’s intense… and hot? But after eating it, I kind of want more.”

“Chili excites the taste buds. And nobody can resist the smell of instant noodles,” Jiang Ji chuckled. “You can even eat the noodles dry—just crunch them.”

“You can eat them dry too?” Jiang Yan mused, eating another bite. “This really is good—and convenient. Would be great for traveling. Just need a small pot.”

He thought for a moment, then added, “It’d also be perfect for military supplies.”

Jiang Ji looked up at him. “Why’d you suddenly think of the military?”

Jiang Yan hesitated, frowning slightly. “…It just came to mind on its own.”

“I swear, you’ve got a real sense of duty,” Jiang Ji said sincerely.

“Isn’t that how it should be?”

Jiang Ji shook his head and gave him a thumbs-up. “That’s admirable.”

Jiang Yan looked at him. “You’re trying to spread new rice and crop seeds so people won’t go hungry—that’s also for the country’s good.”

“Yeah,” Jiang Ji said, sighing softly. “The people here live too hard. It’s painful to watch.”

“The people here?” Jiang Yan echoed.

Jiang Ji froze for a moment, then blinked. “Yeah. We live too hard. We need to change that. Anyway—finish eating. You wash the bowls; I’ve got to head to the front.”

Jiang Yan glanced at him. “Alright.”

In the city, as soon as the gates opened, Zhang Gui and Tian An ran into each other.

Both of them were bruised and battered. Since the gates had closed the previous night, neither could enter the city. One had slept in an abandoned temple, the other in a derelict hut. Now, seeing each other, they glared fiercely, spat on the ground, and went their separate ways.

At the Tian household, Master Tian had just woken up. When he saw Tian An’s face, his brows furrowed. “You were discovered?”

“Forgive me, Master. I don’t know how they spotted me—I thought I hid well.” Tian An rubbed his swollen cheek.

“Tell me everything.”

“Yes, Master.” Tian An recounted the events of the previous night. “…That’s about it.”

When he finished, Master Tian asked, “You said the Zhang family also sent someone, and he was caught too?”

“Yes, that bastard Zhang Gui. He sold me out,” Tian An said through clenched teeth. “But don’t worry, Master—I gave him up too.”

“You didn’t see anyone from the Lin household?”

“No.”

“Only those two brothers in the manor? No one else?”

“I followed them closely—never saw anyone else. The manor was quiet. Just the two of them.”

Master Tian thought for a moment. “I see. Go on then—find a physician to look at your face.”

“Yes, Master.” Tian An hesitated. “So… should we keep watching them?”

“No.”

Tian An blinked. “We’re giving up on finding the merchant?”

Master Tian replied, “That’s right. Drop it.”

Tian An scratched his head, confused, but obeyed and left.

After he was gone, the steward stepped forward and said, “Master, the Sun and Zhang families both sent people too. The Lin family didn’t. They seem closer to Jiang Ji—could they know something?”

Master Tian shook his head. “Not sure. But don’t be fooled by Lin Quan’s cheerful face—he’s a shrewd one. Otherwise, the Lin family’s business wouldn’t keep growing like this. He lent out the manor for free and didn’t send anyone to spy—that must be for a reason. The magistrate’s taking this matter seriously, so we’d best stay out of it.”

“But our men were discovered by Jiang Ji,” the steward said worriedly.

“So what? We were just gathering a bit of information, not stealing his business.”

The steward frowned. “What if he refuses to sell us seeds now?”

“Then do this,” Master Tian said. “Bring some gifts and apologize. Say it was a servant’s foolishness—make up an excuse, like the household has already punished the man.”

“Yes, Master.”

Meanwhile, at the Zhang household, Zhang Gui had also reported what happened to Master Zhang.

Master Zhang asked a few questions, then waved him away.

The steward approached. “Master, should we keep watching them?”

Master Zhang thought for a moment. “Send someone else—but don’t go near the manor. There’s only one road leading in or out, right? Have them wait by the official road instead. And this time, make sure they aren’t spotted.”

“Yes, Master.”

At the Lin family’s western manor.

After breakfast, Jiang Yan washed the dishes and returned to the front courtyard, only to find the main hall packed from floor to ceiling with sacks of seeds—so full they nearly touched the rafters.

Jiang Ji was in the next room. Jiang Yan found him and said, “Jiang Ji, you’ve stacked these so high you might crush the ones underneath. And you won’t be able to reach the top without stepping on them.”

“Don’t worry,” Jiang Ji replied. “I saw they’ve got special ladders here—in the storeroom. Several, actually. Tall ones, short ones. You can reach the top without stepping on the sacks, so nothing will get damaged.”

Jiang Yan recalled the ladders—different from those in the village, more like staircases with small platforms. Yes, that would work.

Jiang Ji continued, “I’ve distributed the seeds into different rooms according to rough proportions. Sweet potatoes and potatoes take up the most space, while rice, corn, and cotton are less. When one room’s stock runs out, we’ll move to the next. We’ll just shift a table and a scale near the door each time to save on hauling distance. What do you think?”

“Sounds good.” Jiang Yan saw the plan was well thought out, so he didn’t linger. “I’ll be in the main hall. Keep going.”

“Alright.”

Once Jiang Yan left, Jiang Ji quickly filled the eastern rooms too.

By late morning, two men from the county office arrived, carrying a thick stack of ledgers, over three hundred cotton-planting contracts, and a single sheet of paper.

“Brother Jiang Ji, these are from the magistrate. This stack lists all the villages, their seed orders, and quantities. The paper here—these are the totals, compiled by the accounting master.”

Jiang Ji’s eyes brightened. He hadn’t expected the magistrate to have already done the math for him. “Thank you both! Please thank the magistrate for me as well. Could you also tell him this—inform all the villages to come buy seeds the day after tomorrow, starting from the west side of town since it’s closer. The rest can follow his arrangement. Those farther away will need more travel time—he’ll know what to do.”

“Understood. We’ll pass it on.”

The two clerks glanced around the hall, amazed. “You’ve already moved all this in?”

“Still a few loads left. Should be done tomorrow,” Jiang Ji said. Then he paused. “Wait a moment—I’d like to send a letter to the magistrate through you.”

He asked Jiang Yan to write the letter, detailing the seed sale schedule and requesting the magistrate to lend them the accounting master.

After sending the officials off, Jiang Ji checked the totals from the county’s ledgers and now had a clear picture in his mind.

A while later, the Tian household’s steward arrived with some pastries and bolts of cloth.

Jiang Ji was surprised. “The Tian steward? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The steward began apologizing at once. “Ah, it’s because of a foolish servant. I’ve come to make amends.”

“Apologize?” Jiang Ji raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. “For what?”

The steward sighed. “It’s that Tian An. I saw him this morning—face bruised and swollen—so I asked what happened. I nearly jumped when I heard it! Turns out he caused trouble at your place yesterday. That brat’s been slippery since childhood, no sense of propriety. He said he went to steal your sweet potatoes of all things.”

“Steal sweet potatoes?” Jiang Ji’s mouth twitched. “That’s what he said?”

“Yes, yes! You gave our household some sweet potatoes before, right? His mother’s one of our cooks. He stole one to eat, liked it too much, and since we ran out, he thought of yours. Tch! Such a fool.” The steward smoothly shifted all blame onto Tian An. “Don’t worry—Master Tian already knows and has ordered a harsh punishment. He won’t cause you any more trouble.”

Jiang Ji just watched him perform quietly.

“My master was afraid you might misunderstand, so he sent me to explain personally.” The steward took the gift box from his attendant and offered it. “A small token of apology from the Tian household. Please accept it.”

Jiang Ji noticed the steward’s cautious gaze, studied him for a moment, then smiled faintly. “Master Tian is too polite. A servant’s mistake hardly calls for such a heavy apology. Just telling me would have been enough.”

“Not managing our servants properly is our fault,” the steward insisted, pushing the gifts forward again. “It’s just a small gesture of sincerity.”

Jiang Ji accepted the box with a smile. “Alright, I’ll take it, then. Please tell Master Tian not to worry about it anymore.”

“Of course, young master. You’re most generous—I’ll be sure to report back to my lord.” The steward cupped his hands. “I’ll take my leave now; there’s still work to do at the estate.”

“Safe travels.”

Watching the Tian family’s carriage disappear down the road, Jiang Ji turned to Jiang Yan and said, “The Tian household is really something—sending people to apologize after spying on us.”

Jiang Yan glanced at the gift box—two boxes of pastries and four bolts of cloth. He raised an eyebrow. “He’s probably just testing things out. Once he realized he’d been caught, he backed off. But since he’s worried you might stop selling him seeds, he sent someone to smooth things over.”

“These people really have too many little schemes,” Jiang Ji sighed. “Forget it. At least he came to apologize. Better that than tearing things open and adding another enemy.”

…

The next day, Jiang Ji had all the seeds prepared. The ones that didn’t fit in the rooms were neatly stacked under the eaves of the main hall.

Then he returned to the village and called Uncle Tu Gen and seven or eight trustworthy villagers to help for a few days. That night, they all came together to the manor to keep watch.

Early the next morning, Zhao Ru, Aunt Xiufang, and the village head’s daughter-in-law arrived to prepare breakfast. They would be helping here for the next few days, cooking and assisting with the work.

After breakfast, the manor gates opened. A desk was set up in front of the main hall, with registration ledgers and writing tools neatly laid out. Jiang Yan sat behind it, ready to handle records and accounts.

Uncle Tu Gen and the villagers stood by to help move and weigh the seed sacks.

The nearby villages had already received notice the day before, and soon villagers were arriving one after another, pushing handcarts to buy seeds.

“Line up properly, everyone—one household at a time!” Jiang Ji called out, keeping order while doing calculations with a pencil at the side.

Before long, Magistrate Xu arrived with the assistant county official, the scribe, and a few yamen runners. He had also brought the county accountant and his apprentice.

Magistrate Xu introduced them. “This is Accountant Luo from the county office. He and his apprentice will assist you for the next few days.”

“Perfect! That’s exactly what I needed.” Jiang Ji smiled, clasping his hands respectfully toward the middle-aged man. “Thank you both for your help.”

Accountant Luo returned the gesture. “You’re too polite, young man. Let’s begin.”

“Alright.” Jiang Ji handed him several ledgers and blank books, then called to the crowd, “Villages of Tupo, Xiaoqing, and Niushan—line up on this side!”

Another table was set up at the gate. Accountant Luo and his apprentice worked in perfect sync—one using the abacus, the other writing down the figures.

The buyers were split into two lines, and the process immediately sped up.

With yamen runners maintaining order and the magistrate himself present, no one dared cause trouble. Everything went smoothly.

Many villagers signed the cotton-planting contracts. Those from villages near Jiang Ji’s came earlier, so he selected mostly nearby households—easier for him to visit and supervise later.

Some from farther villages also wanted to sign, but Jiang Ji couldn’t take on that many.

“Sorry, we’ve filled the quota,” he told them, “but you can still buy cotton seeds. Trust me, cotton is valuable—there’s high demand. We can sell the extra outside the county. As long as you follow the planting guide I’ve written, your yield will go up a lot. Unless something unusual happens, you’ll all make a good profit. Don’t worry.”

Hearing that, the villagers quieted down.

The magistrate had also printed the planting methods for rice, sweet potatoes, potatoes, corn, and cotton. Each village head could pick up a free copy to take home and teach the villagers.

Meanwhile, Zhao Ru and Aunt Xiufang were teaching people how to sprout and transplant sweet potatoes and potatoes—the same techniques Jiang Ji had shown them.

They had prepared a basket of soil and another of plant ash, demonstrating the steps on the spot.

“When the time comes,” Jiang Ji said, “the magistrate will gather all the village heads again at the county office for another lesson. After that, they’ll go back and teach everyone in their villages. Don’t worry—it’s simple.”

“That’s good, that’s good.”

“Ah, looks easy enough!”

The trade went smoothly. The road outside the manor was full of villagers pushing carts and carrying baskets—coming and going nonstop.

Magistrate Xu came by every day, staying until dusk before returning to town. The accountant and yamen runners remained to help Jiang Ji and his team.

Three days later, the manor was still busy. People from all over the county kept coming, but everything was orderly and efficient.

More than half the seeds were gone, and sales had moved to the large rear warehouse.

In the room where Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan slept, several large chests were now filled with silver—the profits from the seed sales.

At noon, a yamen runner suddenly ran in to report to the magistrate, “Sir, the Prefect has arrived!”

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Ch 37: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

After lunch, the villagers all gathered at Jiang Ji’s house to watch them cut the potatoes.

In the courtyard, Jiang Ji set up a wooden board, placing a pile of potatoes on one side and an empty basket on the other. As he sliced the potatoes, he put each finished piece into the basket. Zhao Ru and Jiang Yan then took the potato chunks, dipped them in wood ash, and laid them under the eaves to dry.

“Just like this—it’s simple,” Jiang Ji explained as he worked. “Make sure each piece has a sprout eye, and don’t cut them too small. Two to three pieces per potato is ideal.”

“It’s really that easy?” one villager asked.

Jiang Ji nodded. “Yes, that’s all there is to it. Don’t stack them too high when you pile them up, or the ones at the bottom won’t sprout properly. Once they start sprouting, leave them in the sun for another two days, and then they’ll be ready for planting. Make sure your fields are prepared beforehand.”

“Alright, alright, we’re already drying the soil—then we’ll build the ridges.”

Jiang Ji reminded them, “I told you before—sprouted potatoes are poisonous, you can’t eat them. They’ve all started sprouting now, so don’t eat any.”

“Who’d eat them now? We’re all saving them for planting.”

“Yeah, if we eat them, we’ll have nothing to plant. No one’s touching the seed potatoes. I’ll go home and start cutting mine too.”

That afternoon, every household in the village began cutting their potatoes, keeping pace with Jiang Ji’s family.

The Jiang family was planting two mu of potatoes and needed several baskets’ worth of seed pieces, but the three of them finished their work quickly.

Afterward, Zhao Ru led the cow out and went with Jiang Ji to turn compost again, while Jiang Yan stayed home to continue copying manuscripts.

Jiang Ji had gotten into the habit of writing every evening. He had already filled two notebooks. Writing with a brush was slow, so Jiang Yan couldn’t keep up. And sometimes, Jiang Ji’s handwriting was so cursive that Jiang Yan couldn’t read it; he’d just leave those spots blank and wait for Jiang Ji to come back so he could ask.

…

After dinner, two tables—one big and one small—were lit with tung oil lamps in the main hall.

At the large table, Jiang Ji was writing about planting methods. There were so many types of vegetables and fruits that he wanted to record all their growing techniques.

Jiang Yan was copying the notes, and Jiang Xia was doing her homework and practicing calligraphy.

At the small table sat Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei, each on one side, working on their schoolwork. Zhao Ru sat beside them with her sewing basket, making undergarments.

The tailor shop’s Shopkeeper Sun had just returned from the prefectural city and told Zhao Ru and Aunt Xiufang to keep supplying them with clothes. So, Zhao Ru and Aunt Xiufang worked whenever they had time, and even Jiang Xia helped after finishing her studies. They had managed to earn quite a bit of silver that way.

Everyone in the family was busy with their own work, chatting occasionally. The warm yellow lamplight swayed gently, filling the room with quiet comfort and contentment.

…

The next day, Steward Lin Fu from the Lin household came by to say that the manor was ready.

Jiang Ji immediately went with Jiang Yan to inspect it.

The manor was located between their home and the county town—less than half an hour’s walk away. They arrived quickly.

At the gate, a man of about fifty was waiting. When he saw Lin Fu, he opened the door and handed over the key.

Jiang Ji looked around. The manor was surrounded by farmland, with only one road leading in and out. It was the only estate in the area, and the nearest village was about two li away.

Being far from the other villages made Jiang Ji very satisfied.

“This is the place,” Lin Fu said, leading them inside. “We’ve already had all the rooms cleaned and prepared.”

The manor was large—right past the entrance was a wide courtyard, and the living quarters were further in the back.

“Wow, it’s so spacious,” Jiang Ji couldn’t help but exclaim.

Lin Fu smiled. “This manor used to house the workers who managed the Lin family’s farmland. This open space here is the drying yard—we spread the rice out here during harvest season.”

“All those fields outside belong to your estate?” Jiang Ji asked.

“That’s right.”

No wonder there were no other houses around.

The three crossed the drying yard, and Lin Fu showed them around. “This is the main hall. Since you’ll be storing seeds here, I had them clear the space completely—just left a few tables and benches.”

Jiang Ji looked around. Only a few sets of tables and chairs remained in the center, and both sides were cleared out. He smiled brightly. “Perfect! Steward Lin, you really thought of everything.”

Flattered, Lin Fu smiled. “The side rooms have all been emptied. Two of them still have bedding—you can stay overnight here if you need to. This one over here holds all the blankets; if you need any, just take them. And there are two storerooms in the back—I’ll show you.”

“Alright, thank you.”

The side rooms had belonged to the manor’s workers, now tidied up. The two storerooms in the back were also quite large.

“These storerooms used to hold grain,” Lin Fu explained. “There was still some left, but our master was afraid you wouldn’t have enough space, so he had it moved out overnight.”

“Please thank Master Lin on my behalf,” Jiang Ji said sincerely. “Once everything’s settled, I’ll visit personally to express my gratitude.”

“Brother Jiang Ji, no need to be so polite. My master is glad to be of help.”

Lin Fu then led them to the back courtyard. “Here’s the kitchen. Since you’ll be staying for several days, you can cook for yourselves. There’s firewood in that shed—you’re welcome to use it.”

“That’s great, thank you, Steward Lin.”

After the full inspection, Jiang Ji was very pleased. He looked over at Jiang Yan, who nodded in agreement.

After thinking for a moment, Jiang Ji said, “Steward Lin, could you ask that older gentleman from earlier to guard the place for one more day? We’ll come tomorrow morning.”

“Of course,” Lin Fu replied. “I’ll tell him to hand you the key directly. The gate’s a bit far from the main hall—do you want him to stay and keep watch?”

“No need. The magistrate will be sending someone to help guard.”

“Alright then.”

After settling the details, Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan returned home.

The next morning, after breakfast, they packed two sets of clothes, their washing items, and Jiang Yan brought his brush, ink, paper, and inkstone. Then they moved into the manor.

Zhao Ru worried about their meals. “Should I bring food to you?”

“No need, Mother, it’s too far. Three meals a day would be too much trouble for you.” Jiang Ji patted his chest confidently. “I can cook. We won’t starve. It’s just for two days—come visit after that.”

Zhao Ru still packed them some vegetables and rice, which Jiang Ji carried on his back.

Halfway there, Jiang Yan suddenly spoke quietly. “Someone’s following us. Don’t stop—keep walking.”

Jiang Ji stiffened but didn’t slow down. Covering his mouth with one hand, he whispered, “How many?”

“One.”

“One?” Jiang Ji’s eyes lit up. “Should we capture him?”

“Don’t you want to know who he’s with?” Jiang Yan raised an eyebrow.

Jiang Ji grinned. “If we catch him and question him, won’t we find out?”

Jiang Yan said flatly, “…What if he lies?”

“…” Jiang Ji had to admit that was possible. “Then what do you plan to do?”

“We’ll head there first,” Jiang Yan said. “In the afternoon, you’ll go out toward town. He’ll probably follow you. Once you’re in town, wander near an inn or teahouse, then lose him. I’ll trail him afterward and see which house he reports to.”

Jiang Ji looked at him with admiration. This “white-cut-black” man really was calculating beneath the calm. His eyes lit up. “Alright, let’s do it that way.”

When they reached the manor, the gatekeeper handed Jiang Ji the key and left.

Everyone in the village knew the two would be gone for a couple of days—they’d said they were going to meet traders to arrange seed distribution.

In truth, they had nothing of the sort to do. They sat face-to-face in the main hall of the manor, continuing to write planting instructions.

Around noon, Jiang Yan looked up. “It’s midday.”

“Hm? You hungry?” Jiang Ji glanced outside at the sun and set his brush down. “Then let’s make lunch.”

As they walked toward the kitchen, Jiang Yan asked, “Do you even know how to cook?”

“Of course,” Jiang Ji said confidently. “Cooking’s easy.”

Jiang Yan gave him a look. “I’ve never seen you cook at home.”

“Uh…” Jiang Ji hesitated. “I probably can… I think.”

Jiang Yan stopped walking. “You can’t cook?”

Jiang Ji stopped too. “I’ll figure it out! Come on, you won’t starve.”

“…Alright.”

In the kitchen, Jiang Ji rinsed the rice and lit the fire. “Watch the fire, don’t let it go out.”

“I know.”

Jiang Ji took out the salt, oil, and other seasonings he’d brought, plus a piece of pork Zhao Ru had packed. He thought for a moment. “Let’s make braised pork with potatoes. Should be simple—I saw Mother make it before. Just fry the meat first, then add the potatoes and stew them together.”

“Fine, as long as it’s edible,” Jiang Yan said. Seeing the fire burn steadily, he went over to wash the vegetables.

Jiang Ji raised an eyebrow, washing the meat. “Don’t underestimate me. I’ve never cooked, but I’ve watched.”

“Mm, I know.” Jiang Yan peeled the potatoes while speaking. “Be careful not to cut yourself.”

“Got it.” Jiang Ji tilted his head to glance at him. Jiang Yan’s movements were smooth and precise, the potato skins coming off in thin, perfect curls. “Jiang Yan, you handle a kitchen knife pretty well. Don’t tell me you’ve cooked before?”

Jiang Yan paused, staring down at the kitchen knife in his hand with a hint of confusion. “Maybe I did.”

“I’ve always found you kind of contradictory,” Jiang Ji said, studying him. “Look at you—you’ve got the air of a young master from some wealthy family, all scholarly and refined, yet you know how to handle a kitchen knife? And your body—come on, eight-pack abs?” He clicked his tongue in amazement. “That’s not something an ordinary scholar gets from reading books.”

Jiang Yan glanced at him. “Abs?”

“Yeah, abdominal muscles—you’ve got eight of them, don’t you?”

Jiang Yan hesitated for a moment. “So you’ve been looking at that.”

“Of course! When I was checking your injuries, I couldn’t exactly not see it.” Jiang Ji finished slicing the meat and put it into a bowl. “Anyway, your build doesn’t look like a scholar’s. Maybe you practiced martial arts before.”

“The potatoes are ready,” Jiang Yan said as he peeled two, washed them, and put them in a bowl. “It’s possible I did.”

Jiang Ji froze and turned to him. “How do you know?”

“After my wounds healed, my body felt light and strong,” Jiang Yan said slowly. “There’s a sort of energy inside—like a force running through me.”

Jiang Ji’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Wow, is it internal energy?”

Jiang Yan shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t remember, and I don’t know how to use it.”

“Oh, that’s a shame.” Jiang Ji blinked, then nudged his arm playfully. “Don’t worry, you’ll remember eventually.”

“Mm.” Jiang Yan took a cabbage from the basket and began washing it.

Once the ingredients were ready, Jiang Ji tried to recall what he’d seen his mother do and began cooking. Jiang Yan tended the fire.

The wok heated up; Jiang Ji poured in some oil. When it was hot enough, he tossed in the meat to fry until it released some fat, then added slices of ginger to stir-fry.

“Should I add water and stew it now?” Jiang Ji muttered to himself, staring into the pot.

“Go ahead,” Jiang Yan replied.

“Yeah, as long as it’s cooked, that’s all that matters.” Jiang Ji poured in two bowls of water and tossed in a star anise. “Let it simmer for a bit, then add the potatoes.”

After adding the potatoes, he felt there wasn’t enough liquid, so he poured in a bit more water, covered the pot, and let it stew.

“Did you add salt?” Jiang Yan asked after a while.

Jiang Ji blinked. “Ah! I knew I was forgetting something.”

He lifted the lid, added two spoonfuls of salt and a bit of soy sauce, then covered it again. After a short wait, he uncovered the pot, peered inside, and said, “Should be done now, right?”

“Try it.”

Jiang Ji picked up a piece of potato with his chopsticks and tasted it. “Potatoes are cooked.”

“And the meat?”

“After simmering this long? It must be cooked too. The broth’s almost gone—it’s done.”

He dished out the braised potatoes and pork, then stir-fried the cabbage.

“All done—time to eat!” Jiang Ji said happily, looking at the two dishes on the table, one meat and one vegetable. “See? I told you I wouldn’t let you go hungry. Look at that—not burnt, and fully cooked!”

Jiang Yan picked up a piece of meat and tasted it. Jiang Ji watched eagerly. “How’s it taste?”

Jiang Yan looked at him, chewed, swallowed, and said, “Not bad.”

Jiang Ji’s face brightened, and he took a bite himself. After just two chews, his brows furrowed. “Why’s the meat so tough? It’s been stewing forever—my mother’s never turns out like this.”

“No idea. Ask her when we’re back,” Jiang Yan said calmly, eating without even a frown. “The potatoes are good, though.”

Jiang Ji glanced at him and smirked. “Looks like I really need to learn proper cooking skills.”

In the system’s mission list, there was a cooking skill—and special tasks related to it. Jiang Ji decided then and there to unlock it. He couldn’t let his stomach suffer like this again.

After the meal, they cleaned up and went out according to plan.

Jiang Ji headed toward town alone. Not long after he left the manor, Jiang Yan noticed a man in gray slip out from the bushes and follow him—keeping neither too close nor too far. Jiang Yan quietly trailed behind them.

Jiang Ji trusted Jiang Yan completely and didn’t look back. When he reached the tea house on East Main Street, he quickened his pace, slipped inside through the front door, then exited through the back, zigzagging through alleys until he lost the follower.

By evening, he was back at the manor, cooking while waiting for Jiang Yan’s return.

Jiang Yan didn’t come back until nightfall. As soon as he walked in, Jiang Ji hurried over. “Well? Was it Master Zhang’s people?”

Jiang Yan took a sip of water. “No. That man was from the Sun household.”

“The Sun family?” Jiang Ji blinked, picturing the older Master Sun in his fifties. “Them? Aren’t they in the jewelry trade?”

“Yes. I saw him go through the Sun family’s gate,” Jiang Yan said, frowning slightly. “But when I got back, I noticed another person watching the manor.”

“The same one?”

“No. Different build. Probably another man—hiding behind the tree outside. Must’ve followed you back.”

Jiang Ji frowned. “…Who cares whose family he’s from. Let’s eat first, then go out and teach them a lesson.”

“Alright.”

“Think there might be more than one?”

“Then we’ll clear them all out.”

After dinner, both grabbed wooden sticks and went out the back door, circling around to the front. Sure enough, there were two men—one crouching in the grass, and another behind a tree on the other side of the gate.

They exchanged a look and divided the work—one each.

Jiang Ji took the one in the grass. When he saw Jiang Yan quietly circle behind the one near the tree, he rushed forward and whacked the man in the grass with his stick.

“Ah! Who’s there?!” the man yelped, springing up in shock.

Almost at the same moment, another cry came from the tree. “Who hit me?!”

Both spies froze in confusion—had they been discovered?

They turned to flee, but Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan had no intention of letting them escape.

Jiang Ji had learned some martial arts in his past life, and Jiang Yan moved with remarkable agility. Like catching petty thieves, the two quickly subdued the spies and beat them until they were rolling on the ground.

Before long, both men were captured, tied up, and dragged into the main hall.

The two lookouts glanced at each other—stunned that they’d been caught so easily.

Jiang Yan’s voice was cold. “So you know each other? Perfect. Then tell me—who sent you?”

Jiang Ji stayed silent, letting Jiang Yan take charge. He was far better at interrogations than he was.

The two spies said nothing.

“No answer?”

Without another word, Jiang Yan grabbed one of the men by the collar and dragged him into the next room. Moments later, a piercing scream echoed through the wall.

The man still in the hall flinched in terror. “Y-you’re using torture! That’s against the law!”

Jiang Ji smiled pleasantly. “Well, there’s no one around to see. The nearest village is two li away. If you both disappeared here today… no one would ever know.”

“D-disappeared?” The man trembled. “K-killing is a crime!”

Jiang Ji crouched down in front of him. “We can let you go. You just have to tell us who you are and who sent you.”

The man’s eyes darted back and forth before he stammered, “I—I’m from the Lin household. My master sent me. I can go now, right?”

Jiang Ji smiled. “Oh? And what about the one next door? Whose man is he?”

“You said you’d let me go!”

“I will,” Jiang Ji said softly. He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Listen, brother, think about it. We caught you sneaking around—if you go back like this, how are you going to explain yourself to your master?”

“Uh…”

“So here’s your chance to make up for it. You’ve been caught, sure—but the other guy’s been caught too. If someone from another house takes the fall, your master will be pleased, right? He’ll think you helped expose a rival’s spy. Maybe he’ll even forgive you this time. Don’t you think so?”

“Ah—!” Another scream came from the next room.

The man’s whole body jerked at the sound. Shaking, he finally said, “He—he’s from the Tian household.”

“The Tian family?”

“Yes, he’s the cook’s son. I’ve seen him before.”

“Ah!”

Another shriek followed from the other room. The sound was enough to make one’s skin crawl. Trembling, the man pleaded, “I’m telling the truth! You said you’d let me go!”

“I will.” Jiang Ji untied the ropes around his wrists. The man hurried to free his own legs and bolted out as fast as he could.

Then Jiang Ji walked into the other room.

Inside, he saw Jiang Yan standing with one boot pressing down on the other spy’s back. Jiang Yan tilted his chin toward him. “See that? The other one left. You know why he got to walk out?”

“Because,” Jiang Ji crouched beside the man, “he gave you up.”

The man on the ground froze, his pupils shrinking. Then Jiang Ji said, “You’re the Tian cook’s son, aren’t you?”

“Bastards!” the man roared, eyes wide. He hadn’t expected this kind of interrogation—they hadn’t asked him who he was, but who the other one was.

Since they were from different households, why should he suffer for someone else’s sake?

Jiang Ji grinned. That reaction said everything—it was true.

“Your turn,” he said smoothly. “He’s already given you up. No point keeping his secret. Tell us who he is, and you can go too.”

The man squeezed his eyes shut and muttered, “He’s from the Zhang household—the steward’s youngest son. His name’s Zhang Gui.”

“Good. You can go.”

Jiang Yan lifted his boot and untied the ropes. The man limped out but ran off as fast as he could.

Jiang Ji went to close the courtyard gate, clapped his hands, and said cheerfully, “All done!”

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾