Author Archives: Thandar

Tomorrow was the agreed-upon date with the villagers for selling sweet potatoes and seed potatoes.

Before going to bed, Jiang Ji counted the number of sweet potatoes and potatoes the villagers had ordered. He noticed that even the teacher’s household had come by yesterday to register and had bought quite a lot.

After calculating the total, Jiang Ji exchanged all the sweet potatoes and potatoes and stacked the sacks neatly in the main hall.

Early the next morning, before even washing his face, Jiang Ji slung a shovel and a hoe over his shoulder and went out.

Wu Er was supposed to deliver manure today, so he needed to dig the pit in advance.

Zhao Ru knew he was going to dig the manure pit at the edge of the field, so she woke Jiang Xia up to prepare breakfast and took her own hoe to join him.

The land they had just purchased was all connected. One side bordered the woods, and the other ran along a ditch. For convenience in future fertilization, Jiang Ji planned to dig the manure pit on the wasteland beside the woods. He also intended to use that spot for composting later, since it would be easy to collect fallen leaves and humus from the forest nearby.

After picking the location, the two of them began digging.

At home, Jiang Yan got up soon after Jiang Ji had left.

As soon as he stepped out of his room, he was met with a wall of stacked burlap sacks piled high in the main hall, leaving only a narrow path to walk through.

Looking closely, he saw that they were all bags of sweet potatoes and potatoes. Jiang Ji had said they would start selling them today.

Jiang Yan: …

He didn’t even want to guess how these sweet potatoes and potatoes had appeared. Still, he couldn’t help thinking—Jiang Ji made them appear at home so blatantly, wasn’t he afraid Jiang Yan would start to suspect something?

Did he not see Jiang Yan as an outsider at all?

Or did he really trust him that much?

Whatever the reason, Jiang Yan felt a faint sense of warmth, the corners of his lips lifting slightly as he walked out.

In the kitchen, Jiang Xia was cooking porridge. When Jiang Yan learned that Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru had gone to dig a pit, he picked up two wooden buckets, preparing to fetch water.

Seeing this, Jiang Xia quickly called out, “Brother Jiang Yan, your injury hasn’t healed yet! Leave it—after breakfast, I’ll go fetch it.”

“It’s fine, I’m almost healed.”

Jiang Yan went to fetch the water.

Along the way, he met some villagers who now all recognized him and greeted him warmly.

“Jiang Yan! You’re fetching water? So your wound’s healed?”

“Healed.”

“Where’s Jiang Ji? Isn’t he usually the one who comes for water?”

“He’s gone to the fields.”

“To the fields? What for? Didn’t he already plow the seedling plot?”

“He’s digging a pit.”

“?”

Among the line of villagers waiting to draw water, Jiang Yan stood out—tall, straight-backed, and refined in bearing.

Seeing he was easy to talk to, someone asked, “Hey, Jiang Yan, do you know who Jiang Ji bought those seeds from?”

Jiang Yan glanced at the man and calmly replied, “A traveling merchant from the south. I don’t know him.”

“They’re going to sell them today, but I haven’t seen any merchant delivering seeds.”

“They were delivered last night,” Jiang Yan said evenly.

“Huh? Really? None of us knew that.” The man looked puzzled.

Jiang Yan nodded. “Yes, they came at midnight. They didn’t want to disturb anyone’s rest, so they kept the noise down.”

An older uncle behind them frowned. “Is that so? My house is right next to Jiang Ji’s, but my dog didn’t even bark.”

Jiang Yan stayed calm. “The sound was very faint, and your house is a bit farther. It’s normal your dog didn’t hear.”

The uncle scratched his head. “Well, they sure were cautious.”

“Mm.”

“So all the seeds are here?”

“I’m not too sure—mostly sweet potatoes and potatoes, I think. Jiang Ji wouldn’t let me help because of my wound, so I went to sleep. You’ll see when you go buy them after breakfast.”

Seeing they couldn’t get any more information, the villagers stopped asking.

When it was Jiang Yan’s turn to draw water, he followed the others’ example and filled his buckets.

After carrying four loads to fill the water vat, he brought one more home.

Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru hadn’t returned yet. Jiang Yan washed up, told Jiang Xia where he was going, and headed to the fields.

From afar, he could see the two of them—only their upper bodies visible—as they swung their shovels, scooping out earth.

When he approached, the pit was already six feet wide and about three feet deep, with steps dug along one side and piles of dirt all around.

Seeing him, Jiang Ji raised his hand to wipe his sweat with a cloth and asked, “Jiang Yan, what brings you here? Is it time for breakfast?”

“Yeah.” Jiang Yan looked down into the deep pit and asked, “How deep are you planning to dig?”

“Two…” Jiang Ji started to say two meters but quickly corrected himself, “About five or six feet, that should do.”

The three of them returned home. Seeing the water jar filled to the brim, Jiang Ji asked Jiang Xia,

“Who fetched the water?”

“Brother Jiang Yan did.”

“Oh.”

Jiang Ji glanced outside at Jiang Yan, smiled faintly, and began to wash up.

During breakfast, Jiang Ji kept waiting for Jiang Yan to ask about the sweet potatoes and potatoes in the main hall—but that question never came.

Even when Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei curiously asked what was inside those sacks, Jiang Yan only gave Jiang Ji a brief look. After hearing him say they were sweet potatoes and potatoes, he said nothing more and didn’t ask another question.

After the meal, Jiang Yan told Jiang Ji about what had happened while fetching water—mostly to keep him informed.

“All right, I understand.” Jiang Ji smiled and looked at him. “Anything you want to ask me?”

Jiang Yan shook his head.

Jiang Ji didn’t press further.

Jiang Yan truly was a clever man—since he wasn’t asking, Jiang Ji decided to act like nothing was strange either and didn’t bother to explain.

Then, Jiang Ji redeemed two cans of milk powder from the system.

When Jiang Nan saw his eldest brother take out another strange-looking item, he asked curiously, “Big brother, what’s that?”

“Milk powder,” Jiang Ji explained, worried they might not understand. “You mix it with warm water—it turns into cow’s milk.”

Yesterday, while watching the commotion, Jiang Ji had been struck by Jiang Yan’s tall stature. Feeling a little self-conscious, he decided to “rescue” himself nutritionally.

He placed the two cans of milk powder on the table—one for adolescents, the other for adults.

“Jiang Nan, Jiang Bei, and Xia’er, you three drink the blue one. Mother, Jiang Yan, and I will drink the pink one.”

“Cow’s milk?” Zhao Ru exclaimed in surprise. “That’s what only the young masters and ladies of rich families can afford! Even if you have money, it’s not easy to buy!”

“Yes, that kind,” Jiang Ji said. “It’s nutritious and good for the body. Jiang Nan, Jiang Bei, and Xia’er should drink more—you’ll grow taller. Everyone, bring your bowls.”

They each brought a freshly washed bowl. Jiang Ji opened the cans and scooped two large spoonfuls into each. The hot water boiled that morning had cooled to a perfect temperature, and he poured it in.

“All right, stir it yourselves. Once it dissolves, you can drink it. From now on, one bowl every morning—just use warm water.”

The family curiously stirred the powder with their chopsticks and each took a tentative sip.

“It’s sweet!” Jiang Nan said in delight.

“Tastes great!” Jiang Bei drank down half a bowl in one go, eyes curving with a grin.

Jiang Xia, after finishing hers, frowned slightly. “It tastes a bit… hard to describe.”

“There’s a bit of a milky smell,” Jiang Ji said. “Some people don’t like it. Do you feel like you’ll throw up?”

“No.”

“Good. Then finish it. You’re too short—drink more to grow taller.” Jiang Ji himself gulped his bowl down in big swallows.

Hearing him, Jiang Yan suddenly recalled the way Jiang Ji had craned his neck to watch the crowd yesterday evening, and a trace of amusement flashed in his eyes.

After everyone finished, Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei still looked unsatisfied. Jiang Nan’s eyes sparkled. “Brother, can we drink it every day?”

“Yes.”

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei cheered happily.

Once they finished their milk, Jiang Nan, Jiang Bei, and Jiang Xia got ready for school. Zhao Ru dressed them in newly made clothes and packed their writing tools before sending them off.

There was an entrance ceremony at the school that morning. Jiang Yan stayed home to watch the house, while Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru went to attend the ceremony.

At the school, the younger children came with their parents, while the older ones arrived on their own.

When the time came, the two teachers had the students line up in front while the parents stood behind to observe.

Among the rows of students, the crowd was surprised to see a little girl standing among the children in the beginner class.

“Who’s that? How come there’s a girl?”

“No idea. Whose family is she from?”

“Who would be willing to send a daughter to school?”

People whispered and gossiped until one of the teachers in front called out, “Silence.”

The parents in the back fell quiet.

Jiang Ji looked at his sister’s straight-backed figure, standing tall with her head held high as she faced the teacher, unbothered by the murmurs behind her. His eyes curved with quiet pride.

The entrance ceremony began. The two teachers straightened the students’ clothing, then led them in bowing first to the sages and then to their teachers. Afterward, the children washed their hands and minds as a symbolic gesture before the teacher used red cinnabar to mark their foreheads—an act of enlightenment.

The entire process took over half an hour. When it ended, the students went to their classrooms, and the parents dispersed.

Jiang Ji went to the teacher’s home to find his son and daughter-in-law, telling them that the seed sale would begin soon. The couple hitched up their cart and followed him back.

At the village entrance, they happened to meet Wu Er, who had come to deliver manure.

The manure pit was only half-dug, so today’s load would have to be dumped into the pit behind their house.

Jiang Ji led the man to the outhouse, checked things over, helped him unload, and then paid him.

“What are you folks doing? Why so many people here?” Wu Er asked curiously when he saw the crowd in their yard.

Outside the Jiang family gate, many carts were parked, and inside the courtyard, villagers waited with baskets and crates—it was bustling with excitement.

“Selling potato seeds,” Jiang Ji said with a smile.

Wu Er gave a curious glance but had chores waiting at home, so he didn’t linger and wheeled his cart away.

When Jiang Ji came back from paying him, the villagers were already eager for him to begin distributing the seeds.

Jiang Ji smiled. “Don’t worry, everyone who registered will get theirs. We’ll go in the order you signed up. If someone’s not here yet, they’ll move down the list.”

Hearing that, the villagers stopped crowding and waited patiently in the yard for their names to be called.

Jiang Ji turned to Jiang Yan. “Jiang Yan, can you handle the registration and payments?”

Jiang Yan nodded. The table was already set with ink, brush, and ledger—he was ready.

Zhao Ru brought out a cloth bag and handed it to Jiang Yan so he could keep the money from selling the seed potatoes.

“The first one—Village Chief’s family.”

“Ah, here we are, here we are!” The village chief and his son and daughter-in-law came into the main hall carrying large baskets.

“Two hundred jin of sweet potatoes, one hundred fifty jin of potatoes.”

Jiang Ji confirmed the quantities with them, then lifted one sack of sweet potatoes onto the scale to weigh.

“Shouldn’t we pick them first?” the village chief’s daughter-in-law asked.

Jiang Ji froze for a moment, then smiled. “Sure, you can. Each bag here weighs fifty jin, and they’re all about the same size. But if you’d like, you can take the sweet potatoes out of the sacks and weigh them in your own baskets.”

“Then we’ll pick them out and weigh,” said the daughter-in-law.

“All right, pick whichever four bags you like,” Jiang Ji said cheerfully.

The village chief’s son went to move four sacks of sweet potatoes.

Jiang Ji weighed their baskets first, then they began to transfer the sweet potatoes layer by layer.

“Wow, these sweet potatoes really are all about the same size,” an aunt who was watching nearby said in surprise.

Since they came from the system’s premium-quality seed stock, their size was naturally uniform. Jiang Ji smiled. “Yes, they’re all the best kind.”

It took some time to sort through two hundred jin of sweet potatoes, so Jiang Ji called in the next customers—Uncle Tu Gen and Aunt Xiufang.

“Uncle, Aunt, you can pick your own too,” said Jiang Ji.

“No need, we trust you,” Aunt Xiufang replied.

They brought out four sacks of sweet potatoes and four of potatoes, weighed them, and paid.

Jiang Yan took the money and recorded everything neatly in the ledger.

By the time Aunt Xiufang and her husband had left, the village chief’s family had finished picking through theirs.

Every sweet potato in the baskets was uniform in size, not a single bad one among them.

The onlookers were amazed—even fruit on a single tree comes in different sizes, yet these sweet potatoes were all nearly identical.

The village chief’s family weighed their load, paid, and left, pleased and smiling.

Since they carried their baskets out in full view, everyone outside could see.

“Wow, all the same size—looks great.”

“Are they all like that? Maybe they picked out all the big ones first?”

“Let’s go ask.”

Someone ran inside. “Jiang Ji, are the rest of ours going to be the small ones?”

Jiang Ji came out and said to the crowd, “Don’t worry, everyone. These are seed potatoes for planting, and every batch has been carefully selected so they’re all about the same size—just like what the village chief’s family got. The quality’s the same.”

Hearing that, the villagers relaxed.

Someone else asked, “What about when they grow? Will they all turn out that uniform too?”

Jiang Ji laughed. “When they grow, of course there’ll be big ones and small ones. That depends on your farming skill, Uncle.”

The crowd burst out laughing.

The morning was lively and busy—the Jiang family courtyard full of people coming and going, everyone leaving satisfied with baskets of sweet potatoes and potatoes.

Outside, Li Laoda and Li Lao’er stood with their wives watching, eyes red with frustration.

Li Laoda’s wife said bitterly, “See what you two caused? If it weren’t for that mess, at least we’d be able to buy seed potatoes too!”

Li Lao’er’s wife added, “Exactly. Now we just have to stand here and watch everyone else eat well.”

Li Laoda and Li Lao’er both hung their heads, not daring to speak.

Li Lao’er’s wife whispered, “What if we ask someone else to help buy some for us?”

“They’ve all already registered—Jiang Ji’s keeping track.”

“Still, we could try. Maybe we can say we decided to plant more.”

Li Laoda’s wife thought for a moment. “Fine, let’s try.”

The two women exchanged a look and each went to find someone friendly who hadn’t bought yet.

Li Laoda’s wife pulled aside an aunt named Fen’er, who was from her own home village. “What’s going on?” the aunt asked.

Li Laoda’s wife lowered her voice. “Fen’er, could your family help us buy some sweet potatoes and potatoes?”

The aunt looked at her. “Why don’t you just register and buy them yourself?”

Li Laoda’s wife hesitated, saying nothing.

The aunt recalled the feud between their family and Jiang Ji’s and quietly asked, “Is Jiang Ji refusing to sell to you?”

Li Laoda’s wife nodded. “I went with my husband to apologize yesterday, but Jiang Ji still wouldn’t sell.”

She grabbed Fen’er’s arm. “Fen’er, please, help us buy a little—just say your family’s planting more.”

Fen’er thought for a moment, then shook her head. “If Jiang Ji finds out, he might stop selling rice or corn seed to us in the future. That’d be terrible.”

“Please, Fen’er, I’m begging you—just a small amount.”

“I really can’t. How about this—wait a year. When mine grow, I’ll share some with you for next spring’s planting.”

But Li Laoda’s wife wanted to plant this year. She clutched Fen’er’s arm and pleaded, “Fen’er, please, we grew up together in the same village—help me just this once…”

“What are you doing? It’s our turn!” Fen’er’s husband called out from inside.

“All right, all right, coming.” Fen’er pushed Li Laoda’s wife’s hand away. “Sorry, I really can’t help you. We’re from the same village as Jiang Ji—he’d notice right away. Maybe wait; I heard he’s planning to sell to other villages later. You can ask someone from there to help you buy.”

With that, Fen’er went into the courtyard.

Her husband asked what she’d been talking about, and Fen’er quietly told him.

“You didn’t agree, did you?” her husband said anxiously. “If Jiang Ji wouldn’t sell to them, we can’t help either. Their family’s got a grudge with him—what if he stops selling to us?”

“No, no, I didn’t agree. I’m not that foolish,” Fen’er said.

“Good. Come on, it’s our turn to pick.”

Outside the yard, Li Laoda’s wife was nearly frantic. Li Lao’er’s wife came over and asked, “Sister-in-law, how did it go?”

Li Laoda’s wife shook her head. “And you?”

“Didn’t want to.”

The two women looked at each other in silence.

After a moment, Li Laoda’s wife said, “Fen’er just told me that Jiang Ji plans to sell to other villages too. She said we should wait and find someone from another village to help.”

Li Lao’er’s wife understood her meaning. “So we wait for now?”

Li Laoda’s wife sighed. “We can only wait.”

Jiang Ji’s family was swamped with work. Aunt Xiufang and Uncle Tu Gen, after going home to store their own sweet potatoes and potatoes, came back to help.

One sack after another was carried out, while strings of copper coins and bits of silver clinked into the large cloth bag on the table.

Clatter—clatter—

Silver and copper filled bag after bag until anyone who looked at them felt a surge of envy.

After a long, busy morning, they finally finished everything.

Zhao Ru wanted Aunt Xiufang and Uncle Tu Gen to stay for dinner, but they both waved their hands and went home.

Several large cloth bags were left on the table, with a wooden chest underneath filled with scattered silver and copper coins.

Zhao Ru smiled as she looked at them. “You two count it up; I’ll go make lunch.”

“All right.”

Out of more than eighty households in the village, every family except Jin Hua’s bought some amount of sweet potatoes and potatoes. Sweet potatoes outsold potatoes by three or four times—because Jiang Ji had explained earlier that potatoes were a bit harder to grow, while sweet potato vines could later be sold to others, making them more profitable.

Both crops required a large amount of seed stock—about a hundred jin of sweet potatoes and three to four hundred jin of potatoes per mu. With over eighty families buying, the total was immense.

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan counted the money again. The total came to two hundred twenty-five taels and six qian.

They checked against the ledger—the numbers matched exactly.

Jiang Ji looked at Jiang Yan. “Do you want silver notes or silver?”

“What?”

“The money I owe you for buying the land.” Jiang Ji nodded toward the bags of money. “If you want notes, I’ll exchange it tomorrow. If you want silver, I’ll change it into larger ingots. These small bits are too inconvenient to keep.”

Jiang Yan wanted to refuse, but seeing the serious look in Jiang Ji’s eyes, he instead said, “Then exchange part for silver notes and a few ingots.”

“Got it.”

Jiang Ji happily stuffed the copper coins into the chest. “We still need to finish digging the pit this afternoon. I’ll go exchange it tomorrow.”

That afternoon, Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru went to the field and finished digging the manure pit, while Jiang Yan stayed home—copying down the planting methods and keeping watch.

The family had earned a hefty sum from selling seed potatoes today, and everyone was in high spirits. That evening, Jiang Ji even taught Zhao Ru how to make braised pork with potatoes, and they all ate heartily and contentedly.

Jiang Ji asked about their day at the school.

Jiang Nan looked utterly dispirited. “We just sit there all the time. So boring.”

Jiang Ji: …

Jiang Bei, on the other hand, was cheerful. “I learned new characters!”

Jiang Ji was pleased—at least one child liked studying.

He turned to Jiang Xia. She smiled softly. “It was good.”

Jiang Ji felt reassured. Remembering that morning, he said, “Xia’er, if you ever hear people saying bad things at school or if someone bullies you, you must tell us when you get home, all right?”

She was the only girl in the school, and Jiang Ji couldn’t help worrying that his little sister might be mistreated.

Before Jiang Xia could answer, Jiang Nan spoke loudly, “I’ll protect Second Sister!”

Jiang Bei nodded earnestly beside him.

Jiang Xia laughed. “I’m in the same class as Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei. It’s fine.”

“Still, remember—if anyone gives you trouble, you come home and tell me or Mother. Same for you two,” he said to the boys. “Understand?”

The three children nodded obediently.

Jiang Ji felt a bit more at ease. Looking at Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei’s rosy, round faces, he suddenly said, “Aren’t you two getting a bit chubby?”

Everyone turned to look at them.

Zhao Ru examined them closely. “Seems like they’ve put on some weight.”

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei looked at each other and grinned.

“Xia’er’s chin looks rounder too,” Zhao Ru added, glancing at her daughter.

Jiang Xia touched her face. “Maybe I’ve just been eating more.”

These days, they’d been eating full meals with rice, eggs, and meat. Because Jiang Yan was still recovering, they’d had chicken soup every day and occasionally some meat. With better nutrition, not only Jiang Nan, Jiang Bei, and Jiang Xia, but even Zhao Ru looked healthier and rosier.

“Brother, you’ve gained weight too,” Jiang Nan said.

Jiang Ji touched his face and turned to Jiang Yan. “Have I gotten fat?”

Jiang Yan smiled. “Not fat. You were too thin before.”

Jiang Ji nodded in satisfaction. “Mm, you’re right.”

The whole family laughed.

Late that night, the village lay silent, everyone deep in sleep.

Outside, there was a faint noise. Jiang Yan’s eyes snapped open.

Footsteps.

He reached over and shook Jiang Ji awake. Just as Jiang Ji was about to speak, Jiang Yan covered his mouth. “Shh. Someone’s here.”

Someone?

Jiang Ji held still and listened carefully. Sure enough, there was a faint scraping sound—as if a knife were prying at a wooden latch.

His eyes flew open wide. There was a thief!

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

One of humanity’s truest instincts might just be the love of gossip and watching drama unfold.

【Hurry, hurry, streamer—run!】
【A fight? I love watching fights!】
【They said it’s a family split. In our place, once you get married and move out, it’s basically the same thing. But in ancient times, dividing the family was a huge deal.】

“You all are even more impatient than I am,” Jiang Ji said, though he actually broke into a jog.

【Wait, is this the family that has a grudge with yours?】
【Yeah, the creepy guy who tried to assault your sister Jiang Xia’s family. The guy got exiled, and his mother got ten lashes from the county magistrate.】

Jiang Ji liked to chat with his viewers during downtime, and he’d told them all about the past. “Yep, that’s the one.”

【Oh ho, watching your enemy’s downfall—now that’s entertainment.】
【Streamer, let’s go!】
【This drama’s too good to miss.】

When Jiang Ji arrived at Jin Hua’s household, a crowd had already gathered at the gate. From a distance, he could hear Jin Hua’s sharp, shrill voice—she seemed to be scolding her eldest daughter-in-law, calling her heartless and ungrateful.

The courtyard gate was shut, so villagers crowded around the fence, packed three or four rows deep, hands tucked in their sleeves as they eagerly craned their necks to watch.

Jiang Ji came late—every good spot was taken. He squeezed into a narrow gap, resting a hand on someone’s shoulder, standing on tiptoe and stretching his neck to peer through the gaps in the crowd.

Inside the main hall sat the village head and a few elders of the Li clan. At the center, leaning on a cane, was Li Baoshan—the father of the two brothers Li Laoda and Li Lao’er. He’d broken his leg years ago and now walked with a limp, rarely leaving the house.

The two brothers sat separately with their wives on either side, while their children huddled quietly in a corner.

Only Jin Hua stood in the middle of the hall, face red, neck tense, shouting as she pointed at the eldest daughter-in-law.

“…You wretched woman! From the day you married in, I knew you weren’t any good. Don’t think I don’t know—you’ve been egging my eldest son on to divide the household! Now that I’m old, you’re thrilled, aren’t you? Think you can run things now? Fine, you want to split the family? Take your things and get out! But don’t even dream about keeping this house!”

Li Baoshan sat motionless, head drooping, silent as ever.

The eldest daughter-in-law had long grown used to her mother-in-law’s insults and her father-in-law’s silence. They’d been quarreling for days already, and she was too exhausted to fight anymore.

Now that the village head and the clan elders were present, her eyes reddened and she wiped away tears. “Village head, honored elders—you’ve all seen it. Since I married in, my mother-in-law hasn’t gone a single day without cursing me. I can’t go on living like this anymore.”

Jin Hua’s fierce tongue was notorious in the village. Whether family or outsider, anyone who displeased her even slightly would get an earful. She had conflicts with half the village by now.

Hearing her daughter-in-law’s complaint, Jin Hua immediately started shouting again. “So what if I curse you? You deserve it! You tell my son to abandon his own mother! I should’ve beaten you long ago! And look at you crying—who do you think wants to see that ugly face?!”

“That’s enough!”

A white-haired elder barked sharply, slapping his cane on the floor. “Jin Hua, that mouth of yours deserves to be sewn shut!”

This elder was Li Baoshan’s uncle—the last male senior of their branch—and Jin Hua was still somewhat afraid of him. She fell silent, though not without muttering under her breath, spitting in her daughter-in-law’s direction. “Ungrateful tramp.”

“Still not holding your tongue?! If you’re going to keep this up, we’re leaving. Settle your own mess!” The old man glared fiercely, his cane thudding hard against the ground. Only then did Jin Hua quiet down, sulking as she sat aside.

Seeing the room finally calm, the elder spoke. “Since you can’t live together anymore, then divide the household. Let’s discuss how to split the property.”

Over the years, Jin Hua’s family had built three connected houses: a main hall in the center and east and west wings on either side, each with two rooms, plus a kitchen, woodshed, and pigsty.

The main house was the largest, with a proper central hall. The wings were smaller, each with a modest sitting room. The eldest family lived in the east wing, the second in the west, and Jin Hua and her husband lived in the main house with Li Laosan’s son, Xiao Shitou.

The elder turned to Li Baoshan. “Baoshan, you’re the head of the family. You decide how to divide things.”

Li Baoshan said nothing.

Jin Hua snapped, “Divide what? I built this house myself! Whoever wants to split can get out—none of them are getting a single wall!”

The eldest daughter-in-law gave a cold snort but didn’t respond.

It was the second daughter-in-law who spoke up. “Mother, that’s not right. The east and west wings were built when Big Brother and my husband got married. They both worked and earned silver for those rooms. How can you say it’s all yours?”

“They’re my sons—their silver is my silver!” Jin Hua retorted arrogantly.

The crowd chuckled at that.

The second daughter-in-law shot a look at the eldest, then nudged her husband, signaling him to speak.

Li Lao’er hesitated but then looked up at his parents and said, “Uh, Father, Mother… there’s just the three of you and Xiao Shitou. I’ve got three children—more mouths to feed. How about this? We switch places. Let us live in the main house, and you and Xiao Shitou move to the west wing?”

“What did you just say?!” Jin Hua exploded. She’d always thought her second son was the honest one—never expected he’d dare covet her house. Trembling with rage, she jabbed a finger at him. “Say that again if you dare!”

Outside, Jiang Ji was watching the drama with great interest, occasionally glancing at the livestream chat.

【My god, this Jin Hua woman is really something else.】
【Typical of ancient times—some mothers think that just because they gave birth, everything their children own belongs to them.】
【That second daughter-in-law’s bold though, daring to eye her in-laws’ main house.】
【Who wouldn’t want the biggest house? But seriously, what’s wrong with their father? The house is in chaos and he’s just sitting there silent.】
【The invisible father archetype.】
【I don’t get all this old-time stuff. All I see is a pack of dogs biting each other.】
【Back then, families valued hierarchy. Married brothers living together? Of course there’d be constant conflict.】
【Mother-in-law problems have existed since forever—happens because they live together. Too close, and it all stinks.】
【In ancient times, though, living together was normal. Splitting the household was a big deal—almost considered unfilial.】

Jiang Ji nudged the person beside him. “Hey, why do I feel like Jin Hua doesn’t really want to split the family?”

“Not sure,” came a deep, familiar voice.

Jiang Ji turned his head and blinked—Jiang Yan was standing right next to him, expression calm as ever.

“What are you doing here?” Jiang Ji asked, surprised. “Wasn’t Xiao Shan standing next to me?”

He leaned forward to check—sure enough, Xiao Shan was on Jiang Yan’s other side. The man must’ve squeezed in quietly.

Jiang Yan leaned in and said softly, “Jiang Bei said this family has a grudge with yours. I came in case things get ugly and they try to start something. But looks like they’re… busy.”

Hearing that, Jiang Ji’s eyes curved into a smile. “Yeah, they’re too busy yelling to notice me.”

He elbowed Jiang Yan lightly. “Thanks, though.”

Jiang Yan looked at him and said quietly, “You’re welcome.”

“Big rother! Brother Jiang Yan! We’re here too!”

It was Jiang Nan’s voice. Jiang Ji looked down—Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei were both beaming up at him.

“What are you two doing here? You’ll get trampled in the crowd,” Jiang Ji scolded lightly, pulling them close. “Don’t run around. There are too many people—if you fall, you’ll get stepped on.”

He looked up at Jiang Yan again. “Did you bring them?”

Jiang Yan shook his head.

So they’d followed on their own. Jiang Ji flicked each of them lightly on the forehead. “Kids shouldn’t be crowding in for gossip.”

Jiang Nan rubbed his head with a grin. “But you’re here too, aren’t you?”

Jiang Ji: “…”

Alright, double standards then—so what?

He tightened his grip on their hands. “Stay by me and don’t wander.”

“Okay.”

The two obediently held his hands but tried peeking through the gaps between adults. Of course, they couldn’t see a thing—grown-up bodies blocked their view completely.

Jiang Nan tugged his sleeve. “Brother, I can’t see! Lift me up!”

Jiang Bei chimed in, “Me too!”

Jiang Ji was already craning his neck himself. He glanced at Jiang Yan—who was half a head taller than everyone else and could see perfectly fine.

Jiang Ji: …

He compared their heights and sighed. Ugh, a good half head shorter.

No, he told himself, he was only nineteen—there was still time to salvage this!

“Brother?” Jiang Nan urged again.

“No, I’m too tired,” Jiang Ji said, still sulking about his height. “I can barely see anything myself.”

Jiang Nan sighed in disappointment. “Then can I go to the front?”

“No. Too many people. Stay put.”

The two kids exchanged glances, sighing in defeat, and decided to just listen instead.

Jiang Yan glanced sideways at Jiang Ji—his neck stretched like a curious duck peering down a path—and the faintest smile appeared on his face.

Inside the house, the argument had reached its peak. Everyone wanted the main house. Finally, the great-uncle slammed his cane against the floor.

“What kind of sight is this, a family tearing itself apart?”

He stood and thumped Li Baoshan hard with his cane. “Say something, man! The whole house is on fire and you’re sitting there mute—what, did your leg break your tongue too?!”

Jin Hua shot her useless husband a glare and snapped, “What’s there to say? No one’s getting a single coin from me! I don’t care who talks!”

Li Baoshan’s eyes closed briefly—then suddenly, without warning, he leapt up and swung his cane at her.

“I’ll beat you to death, you foul-mouthed hag!”

“Ah—!”

The blow stunned Jin Hua at first—she hadn’t expected her usually spineless husband to hit her. But once the pain registered, her fury flared hotter than ever.

“Li Baoshan, you worthless cripple! You dare hit me? I’ll kill you!”

She lunged at him, and the two of them started brawling right in front of everyone.

The crowd gasped in shock.

“What are you two waiting for? Separate them!” the old uncle barked at the two sons.

Li Laoda and Li Lao’er finally snapped out of it, rushing forward with the village head to grab one each and pull them apart.

Jin Hua was still shrieking and cursing, while Li Baoshan roared, “Cry all you want, Jin Hua! I’ve had enough of you! You shrew—you’ve cursed this family apart!”

“You say I curse? If you weren’t such a useless coward, would I need to?!”

Li Baoshan shouted back, “Shut your mouth! Say one more word and I’ll divorce you!”

Divorce… divorce her?

The word hit Jin Hua like lightning.

He wanted to cast her out?

At her age, if her husband really divorced her, where could she even go?

It would be no different from a death sentence.

She tore free from Li Laoda’s grip and flung herself toward Li Baoshan, crying hysterically, “Fine! Divorce me then! I’ve slaved for this family for decades, bore you three sons—and you want to cast me out? Heavens above! I can’t live anymore! I can’t live!”

Jin Hua collapsed to the ground, wailing loudly.

Li Laoda hurried to crouch beside her. “Father was just trying to scare you—he didn’t really mean to divorce you.”

But Li Baoshan, who had endured years of silence and humiliation, finally snapped. Decades of pent-up frustration burst out all at once, and now that it had started, he couldn’t hold it back.

“I should’ve divorced this shrew years ago!”

Their great-uncle had had enough of the spectacle. Slamming his cane down, he roared, “Enough! All of you, shut your mouths!”

Li Baoshan still respected his uncle, so he grudgingly sat back down, fuming but silent. Jin Hua’s sobbing quieted to a whimper.

The old man sighed heavily. “If you’d disciplined your wife earlier, Baoshan, it never would’ve come to this!”

Li Baoshan didn’t dare argue.

“Since you clearly can’t live together anymore,” the uncle said, his voice weary, “then split the household. It’ll be better for everyone. Baoshan, you’re the head of the family. Decide how to divide things and get it over with—stop dragging it out.”

Li Baoshan sat in silence for a long moment before finally looking up at his two sons. “You’re both set on dividing?”

Li Laoda looked uncertain after seeing his parents fight like that, but his wife gave him a firm kick under the table. He hesitated—then nodded.

Li Lao’er nodded as well.

After another pause, Li Baoshan said, “Fine. Then we’ll divide. Keep the houses as they are. The kitchen and woodshed stay shared. If that’s too troublesome, build your own with your own silver.”

Neither son said anything more.

The eldest daughter-in-law only wanted to end the mess quickly. She didn’t care if her share was smaller—she’d been living in that east wing for years anyway. The second daughter-in-law looked like she wanted to argue for more, but her husband tugged her sleeve to stop her.

Under the eyes of the village head and clan elders, the family’s belongings were divided into three parts. Each household got some silver. Jin Hua, who had always kept control of the money, refused to hand over her savings, and no one really knew how much she had stashed away. In the end, they had to let it go.

After more than an hour of shouting and dividing, the argument finally ended. The land would be measured the next day before splitting it formally.

By the time it was over, night had fallen. Jiang Xia came to call Jiang Ji home for dinner, and after watching a bit longer, they finally headed back together.

Jiang Ji animatedly retold the whole family drama to Zhao Ru.

Hearing it, Zhao Ru could only sigh.

After dinner, the family sat outside to relax. The air had grown warmer—no need for a fire anymore.

The moon hung like a faint silver hook at month’s end, dim and hazy behind the clouds.

Jiang Ji told Zhao Ru and the others about what he’d accomplished in town that day, including how the manure deliveries would begin tomorrow.

With forty acres of land, fertilizer was absolutely essential. Hearing that he’d secured a source, Zhao Ru and the others were delighted.

Jiang Xia was pleased too, though she sighed. “It just feels like we’ve been spending so much lately. I can’t believe even manure costs money.”

“Xia’er,” Jiang Ji said with a grin, “you can’t expect the horse to run if you won’t feed it.”

Jiang Xia blushed. “I know, I just hate parting with all that silver.”

“Don’t worry. Every bit we spend on fertilizer, we’ll earn back.” Jiang Ji reassured her.

She smiled softly. “I believe you, brother.”

They sat chatting for a while until Zhao Ru was about to tell Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei to bathe—when a knock sounded at the courtyard gate.

“Who is it?” Zhao Ru called as she went to open the door. Seeing who stood outside, she froze.

It was Li Laoda and his wife.

The two seemed to have been whispering to each other before she came out. When they saw her, the eldest daughter-in-law nudged her husband and hesitated for a moment before speaking awkwardly.

“Um… Sister Zhao, we’re here to apologize. My husband was foolish before—please forgive us. He won’t be foolish again.”

As she spoke, she pressed a basket of eggs into Zhao Ru’s hands. “Just a small token of goodwill. Please don’t hold it against us—take this as our apology.”

She elbowed Li Laoda again. “Say something!”

Li Laoda looked up briefly, then dropped his gaze and mumbled, “Before… I was wrong. It won’t happen again.”

His wife hurried to add, “Yes, truly, we’re sorry. We came to apologize.”

Zhao Ru didn’t take the basket. “Is that why you’re here?”

“Ah, yes—mainly to apologize,” the woman said, then lowered her voice. “But also… could we maybe buy some of your seeds too?”

“Mother, who is it?”

Jiang Ji came over when he saw Zhao Ru standing at the gate for too long. When he spotted the visitors, his brows furrowed. “What are you doing here?”

The eldest daughter-in-law quickly shoved the basket toward him. “Xiao Ji, we came to apologize. It was all my husband’s fault before—please forgive us. We swear it’ll never happen again.”

Jiang Ji pushed the basket away. “This isn’t something that an apology can fix. Maybe your third brother was the one who committed the crime—but I still remember exactly what you two did that day. You came to my house acting like victims, accusing us, trying to make us pay after bullying my sister.”

Li Laoda’s face darkened.

His wife went pale. “Xiao Ji…”

“You’re here to buy seeds, aren’t you?” Jiang Ji cut her off.

Caught off guard, the woman hesitated, then nodded. “Yes… but mainly to apologize.”

“Not selling,” Jiang Ji said flatly. “Not to your family.”

He turned to Zhao Ru. “Mother, let’s go in. Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei are waiting for their bath.”

With that, he closed the gate.

Outside, the eldest daughter-in-law stared at the shut door, then turned to smack her husband.

“This is all your fault! I told you not to go that day, but no—you just had to! And now look where that got us!”

Li Laoda was filled with regret, his gut twisting as he muttered, “It’s my fault, all my fault. But what do we do now? He won’t sell to us.”

His wife was on the verge of tears. “How should I know what to do?!”

The two of them quarreled as they walked away into the night.

Inside the courtyard, Zhao Ru sighed softly.

Jiang Ji asked, “Mother, what’s wrong? Feeling soft-hearted?”

“No,” Zhao Ru said after a pause. “I just pity that eldest daughter-in-law. She used to be such a decent, sensible girl… but she was unlucky to marry into that family.”

Jiang Ji shrugged. “Mother, she only came to apologize because she wanted the seeds. If she really felt guilty, she would’ve apologized long ago—right after what happened. But she didn’t.”

Zhao Ru blinked, realizing she hadn’t thought of it that way. “You’re right, when you put it like that.”

“Forget it, Mother,” Jiang Ji said, patting her shoulder. “No need to trouble yourself over people who don’t matter. We just need to live our own life well.”

Zhao Ru nodded. “You’re right. As long as we live well, that’s enough.”

She went back inside to help Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei bathe.

Jiang Ji sat back by the doorway and noticed Jiang Yan watching him quietly.

The night was hazy, its dim light softening the edges of everything. Jiang Ji couldn’t make out Jiang Yan’s expression clearly and asked, “Do you think I was too harsh?”

Jiang Yan shook his head. “No. Not harsh enough.”

Jiang Ji was stunned for a moment—then the corners of his mouth lifted in a small, amused smile.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Jiang Ji really meant it when he said he wanted to frame the “Wealth from All Directions” calligraphy that Jiang Yan had written. The very next day, he went to the town’s bookstore to have it mounted and arranged to pick it up in three days.

After that, he headed to the west side of town.

The west side was home to the vegetable market, livestock market, and the poorest residents—those who did the hardest, dirtiest jobs.

His first stop was the livestock market. When he had come earlier to buy an ox, he’d noticed there was plenty of manure in the pens. What he didn’t know was how they dealt with it afterward. If he could take that manure back home, it would make excellent fertilizer.

The livestock market held fairs on the first, fourth, and seventh days of each ten-day cycle. On those days, villagers would bring in animals to sell. On other days, it was quieter, though there were still several permanent livestock shops operating there.

Usually, the shopkeepers—always sharp businessmen—would seize the opportunity to buy good-quality animals from villagers ahead of time, then keep them in their pens to sell at higher prices later. Jiang Ji had bought his ox from one such shop.

The market was overseen by local officials, so Jiang Ji first asked around and learned that the shops cleaned their own pens, while the public areas were tidied by workers arranged by the government on market days.

He entered one of the cattle-and-horse shops and found the shopkeeper, but instead of asking to buy livestock, he said, “Shopkeeper, do you happen to need someone to clean out your pens?”

Thinking he was looking for work, the man replied, “Already have someone for that.”

“Oh, I see,” Jiang Ji said with a touch of disappointment. “Then may I ask what you usually do with all the manure?”

The shopkeeper was a shrewd man. “You’re after the manure, aren’t you?”

Seeing that he understood, Jiang Ji nodded frankly. “Yes. Would you be willing to let me take it? I can handle the cleanup for you.”

The shopkeeper shook his head. “The cleaner already hauls it away.”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. “Do you pay him to clean and let him take the manure as part of the deal, or does he pay you for it?”

“That’s no secret,” the shopkeeper said. “We pay him to clean—what he does with the manure afterward is his business.”

Jiang Ji’s eyes lit up. “Shopkeeper, how much do you pay him per month?”

“Two hundred wen a month. He comes five times.”

Jiang Ji said, “How about this—you let me cover that cleaning wage, and in return, I’ll take the manure. What do you say?”

The shopkeeper could see this young man was probably a villager looking for fertilizer. Saving two hundred wen a month was nothing to sneeze at—money saved was money earned. “Alright, that’s fine.”

“Great. Could you call the cleaner here? I’d like to speak with him.”

“Sure thing. Come back in half an hour.”

“Okay. Oh, by the way,” Jiang Ji added, “are the cleaners for the other shops the same person?”

“Two of the nearby ones use the same guy. The others, I’m not sure,” the shopkeeper said, pointing out which two.

“Much obliged.”

Not wanting the man to change his mind and sell the manure to someone else, Jiang Ji suggested they draw up a simple written agreement. The shopkeeper readily agreed.

While the shopkeeper was writing, Jiang Ji asked casually, “By the way, who collects your night soil around here?”

The man gave him a long look and chuckled. “You’re even thinking about that? You must have a lot of fields.”

“Eh, four or five mu,” Jiang Ji said with a sigh. “But there’s no fertilizer. You know how it is—without fertilizer, nothing grows. I don’t have much choice.”

The shopkeeper laughed. “Our area’s chamber pots are collected by a man named Wu Er in Apricot Blossom Alley. You can go ask around for his place.”

“Thank you kindly.”

With that lead, Jiang Ji moved on to the next livestock shop.

There were about a dozen in total—selling pigs, oxen, horses, mules, and donkeys. Some shops confirmed that the manure belonged to the cleaners, while others agreed to his offer. In the end, Jiang Ji successfully negotiated with six shops.

By the time he finished going around the market, it was nearly noon.

He grabbed a quick bowl of noodles on the street, then returned to meet the cleaner—a man named Liu Dalang.

The shopkeeper had already told him that from now on, Jiang Ji would pay his wage and take the manure. Liu Dalang didn’t look happy; without the manure to sell, his income would drop significantly.

Seeing his displeasure, Jiang Ji pulled him aside and said, “Brother, you’ve been selling the manure before, haven’t you?”

Liu Dalang nodded sullenly. “Yeah.”

“How much do you sell it for? And to whom?”

“To a rich landowner outside town—fifteen wen per cartload, delivered to his estate.”

“How many buckets make up a cartload? And how big are the buckets?”

Liu Dalang gestured with his hands. “About this big. One cart’s worth is just one big bucket. I clean three livestock shops—their waste together fills roughly one cartload each time.”

From the size he indicated, it was an oval-shaped wooden tub, longer and wider than the ones used for night soil. Jiang Ji nodded. “Alright, I’ll pay you fifteen wen per cart, same as before. Think of it as transport pay. Please deliver all the manure you collect to my house—and that includes from the other three shops I’ve arranged with. The total amount should be about the same. You’ll probably make around ten trips a month. Is that alright?”

Liu Dalang froze for a moment—he wouldn’t be losing money after all, and might even earn a bit more from the extra deliveries. His face broke into a grin, and he nodded quickly. “Alright, deal!”

Jiang Ji went over the details, took him to meet the other shopkeepers so they’d all recognize each other, then told him his name and village before leaving.

Afterward, Jiang Ji wandered through the vegetable market, stopping by the poultry sellers.

He noticed that the vegetable and poultry vendors swept up vegetable leaves, chicken and duck droppings, and feathers into piles at the side—most likely for the street cleaners to collect later.

He thought for a moment. These stall owners opened early every morning; they probably knew the street sweepers.

He bought a cabbage from one stall and asked the owner, “Boss, do you know who cleans this street?”

The man nodded. “Sure, see him every day.”

Jiang Ji brightened. “Do you know where he lives?”

The man eyed him warily. “What do you want him for?”

“Oh, I’ve got some work I want to hire him for,” Jiang Ji replied with a smile.

Hearing it was work, the stall owner relaxed. “He lives back in Apricot Blossom Alley. Not sure which house, but if you wait about an hour—when we pack up—he’ll come to sweep here.”

Also Apricot Blossom Alley again. Jiang Ji smiled. “Got it. Thanks, boss.”

Since there was still time before the cleanup, he turned down two side lanes to reach Apricot Blossom Alley.

Just a short walk away, the stone pavements gave way to dirt, and the tiled houses disappeared—replaced by rough wooden huts and thatched roofs. It felt almost like being back in the countryside.

He asked around and soon found Wu Er’s house.

Wu Er made his living in town as a night-soil collector—emptying and hauling chamber pots.

Jiang Ji knocked on the door. “Hello, anyone home?”

“Who are you looking for?” A small gap opened in the door, revealing a timid boy of about seven or eight, eyes wary.

Jiang Ji bent down and said kindly, “Little one, are your parents home? I’d like to speak to them.”

The boy looked back into the house. “My father’s not back yet. Come later.”

“Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“Don’t know,” the boy said and promptly shut the door.

Jiang Ji sighed and lingered there a while. He was just turning to leave and maybe ask around some more when a man arrived, pulling a wooden cart.

Jiang Ji’s eyes lit up. “Brother, are you Wu Er?”

“I am,” the man said, wiping sweat from his brow with the cloth around his neck, giving Jiang Ji a curious look. “And you are?”

“Hello, Brother Wu,” Jiang Ji said quickly. “My name’s Jiang Ji. I wanted to ask—what do you do with all the night soil you collect? Do you just dump it?”

Wu Er shook his head. “I sell it.”

Jiang Ji was slightly disappointed. “How much per cartload?”

“Ten wen.”

“Where do you deliver it?”

“To a household just outside town. Takes about a quarter of an hour to get there.”

Jiang Ji looked at his cart—it was empty—and asked, “How many buckets per cart, and how big are they?”

Wu Er opened his courtyard gate and pointed at a large wooden tub in the corner. “Like that one—two buckets per trip.”

Jiang Ji glanced at it. The tubs were about the same size as the ones used for chamber pots. The cart could just fit two.

He said immediately, “Brother Wu, how about this—sell the night soil to me instead, deliver it to my home, and I’ll pay you twenty wen per cart. How’s that sound?”

“Twenty?” Wu Er blinked—twice as much?

“Yep,” Jiang Ji confirmed.

Wu Er thought for a moment. “Where do you live? Far from here?”

“Shanqian Village—about half an hour’s trip.”

“Oh, I know that place.” After a pause, Wu Er nodded. “Alright, deal.”

Jiang Ji reminded him, “Don’t add water to the night soil—if it’s watered down, I can’t use it. If this works out well, maybe we can make it a long-term deal. There are plenty of families in my village.”

Wu Er understood perfectly and thumped his chest. “Don’t worry! What you get will be pure and original.”

Jiang Ji: “…Brother, you sure have a way with words.”

Wu Er chuckled good-naturedly.

They agreed he’d deliver for the next two months first. Then Jiang Ji asked about the street cleaner from the vegetable market—turns out Wu Er knew him and lived nearby. Wu Er even led him there.

He made the same offer: twenty wen per cart for vegetable waste, chicken and duck manure, and other market scraps, to be delivered for two months.

After finishing his errands, Jiang Ji stopped by the blacksmith and bought a large chopping knife before heading home.

With the fertilizer problem solved, he finally breathed easier. By starting the composting now, he’d have enough ready in two months for the crops’ growth period—enough for his dozen-plus acres.

When he reached the village, he saw many people hurrying deeper into it.

“Auntie, what’s going on? Did something happen?” he asked, stopping one woman.

“It’s Jin Hua’s family—they’re dividing up the household. The village head and clan elders are over there. We’re going to watch the commotion!”

So that was it. Jiang Ji went home and told Zhao Ru. “Mother, do you want to go see?”

Zhao Ru shook her head. “No, I’ve got to finish sewing clothes. Shopkeeper Sun’s heading to the prefecture in a few days—we need to finish this batch while we can. Every coin counts.”

Jiang Xia was also busy making clothes.

When Jiang Ji glanced at his livestream, the viewers were all clamoring for him to go see the drama—everyone wanted to watch the family quarrel.

He was curious himself, so he headed toward the courtyard gate.

Just as he stepped outside, he walked straight into Jiang Yan’s chest. Startled, he exclaimed, then looked up and saw who it was. “You scared me!”

Jiang Yan stepped back a little. “You’re back already? Going out again?”

“I’ve got something to do,” Jiang Ji said, waving a hand as he went off to stream the commotion.

Watching him leave, Jiang Yan turned to Jiang Bei. “Where’s your brother going?”

Jiang Bei thought for a moment. “Probably to join the crowd.”

Jiang Yan: ?

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

The next morning, Jiang Ji got up early, planning to take the ox to plow the field. He intended to use one of the more fertile plots of land as a nursery bed for seedlings. If he could plow it all at once, he wouldn’t need to dig manually with a spade—it would save both time and effort.

According to the memories of the body’s original owner, he knew how to plow. Jiang Ji went over the process in his head, brought the plow out into the courtyard, and figured he could finish that patch before breakfast.

He opened the cowshed door. The ox, lying on the ground, stood up as he entered. Jiang Ji walked over, fastened the rope around its head, and gave a command to move. The ox didn’t budge.

He tried twice more, even flicking the rope to urge it forward.

The ox glanced at him and shuffled back into the corner.

Hearing the noise from the kitchen, Zhao Ru came out and saw the plow in the yard. She quickly said, “Xiao Ji, the ox is new. You have to wait a few days before using it.”

“Huh?” Jiang Ji looked puzzled. “But it’s local stock, not from far away. The seller said it came from a household just east of town. Why would I need to wait a few days?”

“It’s in a new place, not familiar with the surroundings yet. Give it time,” Zhao Ru said, looking into the cowshed. “See? It barely touched the fodder we gave it yesterday. Let it get used to its new stall first.”

Jiang Ji scratched his head, looking at the ox standing stubbornly in the corner. With a sigh, he untied the rope. “Alright, then I’ll go borrow the village head’s ox.”

The village head was already up and about, preparing to fetch water. When he heard Jiang Ji’s request, he set down the buckets and led him to the cowshed, explaining the basics of caring for an ox along the way.

“I forgot to tell you yesterday—newly bought oxen shouldn’t be worked right away. For the first few days, don’t take it out to graze either. Just let it stay penned up and get used to the place. Watch its eating and drinking. Once it’s feeding well and starts bawling to go out, then you can lead it outside. And for the next couple of months, when you graze it, don’t let go of the rope. Keep it tied, or it might run off.”

“Got it. Thanks for the reminder, Village Head.”

Jiang Ji drove the village head’s ox back home, hitched up the plow, and headed to the field.

This plot was about half a mu, long and narrow. Following the instructions in his memory, Jiang Ji yoked the ox, stood behind it, held the plow handle with his right hand, and gripped the reins with his left.

The village head’s ox was a big yellow one. Jiang Ji, plowing for the first time, was nervous. He tried to coax it. “Brother Bull, let’s work nicely today, yeah? I’ll feed you plenty of grass when we get back.”

The ox just kept its head down, munching on tender grass, completely ignoring him.

Jiang Ji straightened the plow, flicked the reins, and called out,

“Hyah!”

The rope flicked against the ox’s belly. The animal snorted and started forward.

It had rained lightly two days ago. The surface of the soil had dried, but beneath it was still damp. The field had been worked before, so the earth was soft and easy to turn. The plow sank smoothly into the soil, the ox pulling it along steadily.

A layer of earth split and flipped over neatly. Jiang Ji, inexperienced, lost control of the angle at first, the plow going crooked, but he quickly adjusted.

The yellow ox moved at a surprisingly brisk pace. Jiang Ji stumbled after it, one foot deep, one foot shallow.

“So this is plowing, huh? Not bad—it’s easy once you get the hang of steering.”

He even found time to glance at his livestream. It was still early, dawn barely breaking. Only about a thousand viewers were online—mostly office workers watching during their morning commute.

“Good morning, everyone! Today I’m showing you how to plow a field—my first time doing it.”

【Morning, streamer! Wait, you actually know how to plow?】
【Not bad, looks decent.】
【Didn’t expect this—you’re full of surprises.】
【Nice, nice. You’re really turning into a proper farmer now.】

“Not bad, right? Didn’t think I’d have such a talent for farming,” Jiang Ji said cheerfully.

But no sooner had he finished bragging than he ran into his first major problem—controlling the ox’s direction.

Fresh grass had sprouted across the field, tender and green, and the ox kept stopping to eat, moving in fits and starts.

“Hey, hey, brother, don’t stop! You can’t just keep eating!”

Jiang Ji flicked the reins, and the ox moved a few steps—only to veer off course toward the right. The plow nearly crossed into someone else’s field. Jiang Ji quickly tugged the ox back, steering it straight again.

When he reached the other end and turned around, he saw the furrows he’d made zigzagging across the field like a snake.

【Hahaha, sure, “pretty easy,” I believed you for a second】
【Yeah, looks real easy, hahaha】
【When does this streamer not mess up?】
【I’m dying—every time he says something’s easy, disaster follows】

The livestream was running on the side, and with one glance at the scrolling comments, Jiang Ji pouted. “Hey, it’s my first time, alright? Totally normal. Give me two laps and I’ll have it down.”

Not far away, an auntie picking vegetables in her own field called out, laughing, “Jiang Ji, what’s wrong? That ox not listening to you?”

“Auntie, it’s got a bad case of morning temper,” Jiang Ji called back with a grin.

【LMAO, morning temper】
【Same, I get morning temper too, snort snort】
【Imagine being dragged out to work this early, who wouldn’t be mad?】
【Ah, brothers and sisters, don’t laugh—we’re just like this ox, up early to work every day】

That comment struck a chord—soon the chat was full of groans.

【You hit too close to home, man】
【Don’t say it out loud, my morning temper’s flaring up now】
【Up before the chickens, asleep after the dogs】

Jiang Ji burst out laughing. “Early to bed and early to rise keeps the body healthy, guys—don’t stay up late!”

【Yeah right, like you ever slept early before】
【Why do I not believe that for a second】

Jiang Ji sighed. “Honestly? I used to stay up till one or two every night. But here, well—there’s nothing to do after dark. No phone, no computer, not even cards. What else can I do but sleep?”

He chuckled. “But for real, sleeping early and waking early makes you feel great. Try it sometime.”

【We all know that】
【If I had that much discipline, I wouldn’t have dark circles every day】

“If you all transmigrated here, you’d be early birds too.”

【Yeah, no thanks】
【I can’t live without Wi-Fi and takeout】

Chatting with his viewers, Jiang Ji continued plowing. After a couple of laps, he finally got the hang of controlling the ox. The furrows straightened out, the plow moved smoothly, and the work began to look decent.

Row by row, the soil turned over, burying the grass beneath it. Without sunlight or rain, the buried greens would decay over time and become fertilizer for the land.

In modern organic farming, this was known as green manure—after the second rice harvest, farmers would sow grass seeds in the field, and by spring plowing time, the grown grass would be turned under as natural fertilizer.

“Brother!” “Big Brother!”

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei’s voices came from the distance. Jiang Ji turned to see the two little monkeys running toward him, with Jiang Yan following in his blue robe.

“You’re up already? What are you doing out here?” Jiang Ji asked.

“Mother said to call you back for breakfast,” Jiang Nan said, stopping at the field’s edge.

“Oh, got it. Just a bit more to plow, then I’ll head back.”

Jiang Yan stood at the boundary of the field, watching his movements. “Jiang Ji, is this easy to learn?”

“What, you wanna try?” Jiang Ji raised an eyebrow.

To his surprise, Jiang Yan nodded. “Can I?”

“Sure. Come on, I’ll teach you. Whoa—” Jiang Ji called the ox to a stop and waited for him.

Jiang Yan stepped down into the field. Jiang Ji handed over his spot. “Here—hold the handle like this. Left hand on the reins. A little flick and the ox will move. If it drifts right, pull back. Keep your right hand steady on the plow.”

Jiang Yan nodded, got into position, and flicked the reins. “Go.”

The ox trudged forward. Jiang Yan focused intently, holding the plow straight, though he wasn’t quite used to walking through the uneven soil yet—his steps wobbled a little.

“When you see it lowering its head to eat grass, give it a nudge,” Jiang Ji said, walking beside him, coaching patiently.

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei followed along, watching eagerly.

Jiang Yan was a quick learner, attentive and precise. “Feels kind of like driving a carriage,” he said thoughtfully.

“Huh? You’ve driven a carriage before?” Jiang Ji asked, then paused. “Wait—you remembered something?”

Jiang Yan shook his head, a faint confusion in his eyes. “Not really. It just… feels familiar somehow.”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. “Maybe you did drive one before. Sometimes familiar actions trigger old memories. Keep at it—maybe this will jog your memory.”

Jiang Yan nodded and kept walking forward.

Drawing from the knowledge he’d gained from his previous life, Jiang Ji said, “Actually, if someone you know took you to familiar places, had you do what you used to do, it might help you recover your memory faster.”

Jiang Yan glanced at him. “That won’t work.”

“Yeah, true. Too bad there’s no one from your past here,” Jiang Ji said, shrugging. “Take it slow. You’ll remember eventually.”

In movies and TV dramas he’d seen, people with amnesia usually got their memories back after hitting their heads again.

But since he’d only seen that on screen and not in any medical journal, he wasn’t sure if it was real—and he wasn’t about to suggest it to Jiang Yan.

What if Jiang Yan really tried it, hit his head, and still didn’t remember anything?

Or worse, what if he hit it too hard and dropped dead?

No, definitely better not to mention that.

Otherwise, it could turn into a tragedy.

When Jiang Yan finished plowing the last bit of field, Jiang Ji said they’d come back after breakfast to harrow it smooth, and that would be that.

“Not bad at all, Jiang Yan,” Jiang Ji said, clapping. “Looks like you’ve got a farmer’s gift too.”

Jiang Yan looked at him with a faint smile. “Let’s go eat breakfast.”

Jiang Ji unhitched the plow. When Jiang Yan reached out to carry it, Jiang Ji took it from him. “I’ll carry the plow. Your wound hasn’t fully healed—don’t lift anything heavy. You lead the ox instead.”

Jiang Yan didn’t argue. If the wound split open again, it really wouldn’t be worth it. There was no need to insist on helping right now.

“Brother, I’ll lead the ox!” Jiang Nan called out eagerly.

Jiang Ji handed him the rope, still unsure why this child was so fascinated with the animal.

“Oh, right—the village head said our ox can’t be taken out for a few days yet. So this afternoon you don’t need to take ours to graze.”

Jiang Nan looked disappointed. “Huh? Why not?”

“Because it’s new here,” Jiang Ji explained. “It just came to a new environment—it needs a few days to get used to it. But this afternoon, you can help the village head’s family by herding their ox, okay?”

In the village, it was customary that when you borrowed someone’s ox—not rented it for coins—you’d repay them with fodder or labor. Usually that meant taking their ox out to graze in return, since herding took time and effort.

“Okay, okay! I’ll do it! I’ll make sure it doesn’t run away!” Jiang Nan said happily.

Jiang Ji shook his head, amused but not quite understanding what joy the boy found in it.

The group carried the plow and led the ox home. They tied the animal to a tree in the courtyard, and Jiang Ji gave it a bundle of straw before washing his hands and heading to eat breakfast.

After the meal, Jiang Ji went back to harrow the field, with Jiang Nan tagging along to help.

Back at home, Jiang Yan began transcribing the planting guides.

Since many villagers had come recently to register for seeds, he moved the table to the main hall, set out the writing tools Jiang Ji had bought for him—brushes, ink stick, and inkstone—along with two notebooks to copy into. He poured a bowl of clean water, rolled up his sleeves, added a little water into the inkstone, and began grinding the ink stick.

As the glossy black ink slowly spread and mixed with the water, that rich, distinctive fragrance of ink filled the air.

Jiang Yan noticed a small head resting on the table’s edge, watching him grind with fascination. “You like that smell?” he asked.

Jiang Bei nodded. “Yeah. It smells nice—it makes me feel like I’m learning something important.”

Jiang Yan couldn’t help but laugh softly. He hadn’t expected that answer. “Do you want to learn to read and write?”

Jiang Bei nodded again. “I do.”

Jiang Yan’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Then help me grind the ink, and I’ll teach you to write afterward.”

Jiang Bei’s eyes lit up. “Okay!”

Jiang Yan handed him the ink stick. “Roll up your sleeves.”

The table was a bit tall, so Jiang Bei climbed onto the bench, kneeling as he leaned over the tabletop. He rolled up his sleeves and took the ink stick from Jiang Yan, copying his movements in small circles, grinding steadily.

Jiang Yan, seeing how seriously he imitated him, let the boy continue while he took out Jiang Ji’s notebook and a blank one beside it.

He didn’t write a title yet—he’d wait for Jiang Ji to decide when he got back.

When the ink was ready, Jiang Yan kept his promise. He picked up one of the brushes Jiang Ji had bought for Jiang Nan, laid a sheet of practice paper before Jiang Bei, and wrote a neat character at the top right corner: “江” (Jiang).

“This is the character ‘Jiang’—your family name.”

Jiang Bei’s eyes shone as he looked at it, then corrected him with a grin. “Brother Jiang Yan, you have the surname ‘Jiang’ now too.”

Jiang Yan smiled gently. “Yes, I do now. Here, first learn how to hold the brush, like this.”

He corrected Jiang Bei’s grip, then guided his hand, helping him trace the character stroke by stroke, letting him feel the brush’s motion. “From top to bottom, left to right—got it?”

It was a simple structure, easy to understand. Jiang Bei nodded obediently. “Got it.”

“Good. Write one yourself and let me see.”

Jiang Bei carefully followed the strokes, drawing one line after another.

When he finished, he compared his writing with Jiang Yan’s—his own was crooked and messy, while Jiang Yan’s was elegant and balanced. Scratching his cheek nervously, he asked, “Brother Jiang Yan, did I… write it right?”

Though it was clumsy, the strokes were in the correct order.

“You did,” Jiang Yan said.

Instantly, Jiang Bei’s face lit up with a smile.

“Pay attention to how you hold the brush,” Jiang Yan reminded gently.

Jiang Bei glanced at his grip, compared it to Jiang Yan’s, and quietly corrected his posture.

“Good. Keep practicing. Make the left and right sides about the same size and length.”

“Okay.”

Jiang Yan sat back in his place and began transcribing again.

The two of them—one tall, one small—were immersed in the scent of ink. Zhao Ru peeked in at the scene, smiling softly before backing out again.

From time to time, villagers came by to register for seeds. Jiang Yan set down his brush and recorded their names one by one.

When Jiang Ji came back from the fields, he was delighted to see Jiang Bei learning so earnestly.

“Oh, look at that—Jiang Bei’s learning to write now!”

Jiang Bei, seeing his brother, perked up and held out his brush excitedly. “Brother, I can write the character ‘Jiang’ now! Come see!”

Jiang Ji leaned over. Apart from the two neat characters at the top, the rest were crooked, blotchy, and smeared—if you didn’t know better, you might think they were ghostly scribbles.

“Brother, what do you think? Did I do good?” Jiang Bei looked up at him, full of expectation.

“Not bad,” Jiang Ji said without blinking, praising him readily. Then he slid the messy sheet aside and placed a new one in front of him. “Show me again.”

Jiang Bei realized his brother was testing him, but he wasn’t afraid—he was confident now!

He dipped the brush into the ink, scraped off the excess on the edge, and carefully began to write again.

A short while later, he finished and tilted his little face upward. “Did I get it right this time?”

Jiang Ji gave him a thumbs-up. “You did. Very good!”

Jiang Bei grinned from ear to ear. “Brother Jiang Yan taught me!”

Jiang Ji nodded approvingly. “Keep practicing. Learn from Brother Jiang Yan’s handwriting—it’s beautiful.”

Jiang Yan glanced at him, a faint smile flickering in his eyes. “Jiang Bei likes reading and writing. You should nurture that well.”

Jiang Ji glanced at Jiang Bei and patted his head. “You like studying?”

“Mm.” Jiang Bei nodded hard. Last year, Dazhu had started attending the village school, and Jiang Bei had been envious ever since. But knowing their family couldn’t afford it, he’d never said anything.

Now that his big brother had said he could go to school, he was overjoyed.

He could finally go to the academy too!

Jiang Ji ruffled his hair again. “Good. As long as you’re interested, your brother will support you.”

He didn’t say anything about taking the imperial exams or becoming a scholar. This was ancient times—passing the exams was far harder than getting into a good modern university. Just as he wanted his younger sister to learn to read and understand reason, he didn’t expect his brothers to become officials. He just wanted them to grow wiser and broaden their minds.

After all, he himself had nearly worked himself to death getting into a key university. Thinking back to those chaotic senior high school days still made him shiver.

Jiang Bei nodded happily. “Thank you, big brother.”

Jiang Ji walked over to Jiang Yan and looked at his writing. “Your handwriting is beautiful—looks just like it was printed.”

Because it was written in a notebook, Jiang Yan’s calligraphy was neat and precise, with not a single blot or correction mark.

Jiang Ji truly admired these ancient scholars. Anyone who could read and write seemed to have impeccable handwriting.

Jiang Yan asked, “Do you want to try writing?”

“No, no, no,” Jiang Ji waved his hands quickly. “My chicken-scratch handwriting isn’t worthy of that paper.”

Jiang Yan’s lips curved slightly. “Do you want to learn?”

Jiang Ji refused without hesitation. “Nope.”

He could never sit quietly at a table practicing brush strokes. He had no interest in that kind of suffering.

As long as he could read and write traditional characters, that was enough. Calligraphy wasn’t his kind of hobby.

Jiang Yan: “…”

Afraid that Jiang Yan might continue trying to persuade him, Jiang Ji quickly diverted the topic and pointed to Jiang Nan. “Jiang Nan wants to learn.”

Jiang Nan blinked. “…I never said that.”

“You have to learn,” Jiang Ji said firmly. “You’re going to school soon anyway—better start practicing now.”

Jiang Nan glared at his brother. “Why don’t you learn then?”

“I can already write,” Jiang Ji lifted his chin. “It just doesn’t look nice. But you can’t write yet, so you need to learn.”

Jiang Nan: “…” He couldn’t argue with that.

But then he thought of something. “I still have to herd the village head’s ox this afternoon!”

“I didn’t say today. I meant later.”

Jiang Nan: “…”

Jiang Bei giggled as he watched them. “Jiang Nan, writing is fun!”

Jiang Nan shot him a glare. “Fun? Why’d you start writing instead of playing outside? Now I have to write too!”

Jiang Ji chuckled. “You’d have to learn anyway.”

“Hmph! I’m done talking to you guys.” Jiang Nan huffed and ran off.

Jiang Ji called after him, “Don’t forget, we’re visiting the teacher this afternoon!”

Jiang Nan: “…”

Jiang Yan shook his head with a faint smile as he watched the three brothers bicker. He then handed Jiang Ji the notebook where he’d recorded the seed buyers. “A lot of people came to register this morning. Several of them bought twice as many seeds as everyone else. Take a look.”

Jiang Ji took the book and scanned through it. Indeed, a few names had unusually large quantities next to them. “Did they acquire more land or something?”

“I asked. They said they were taking a gamble.” Jiang Yan frowned slightly. “But their expressions didn’t really match that explanation.”

Jiang Ji glanced again at the list but couldn’t make sense of it. “Forget it. Let them plant however they want.”

After lunch, Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru took the three children and a small gift of tuition offerings to the neighboring village.

That village was larger than theirs and had a small school where children from several nearby villages studied. There were two teachers—one an old scholar from their own village, the other a man from a nearby one who had studied in town for over ten years but never passed the scholar exam, so he now taught basic literacy here.

It took them less than fifteen minutes to walk there.

Jiang Ji knocked on the teacher’s front gate.

The one who opened it was the teacher’s daughter-in-law, Hong Xiu. The families from both villages were familiar with each other.

Seeing Zhao Ru and Jiang Ji, her eyes brightened. “Auntie, what brings you here? I was just about to come find you. Come in, come in!”

Zhao Ru smiled. “We’ve come to see the teacher. The new term is starting soon, and we’d like to send our children to study with him.”

The teacher was in his early forties, with a short goatee, sitting in the courtyard weaving a bamboo basket while helping his grandchildren recite poetry.

Jiang Ji and his family bowed respectfully.

When he heard their purpose, the teacher looked over at Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei. “These two little ones?”

Jiang Ji shook his head. “And my sister, Jiang Xia. All three together.”

The teacher froze. “This little girl too?”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Yes.”

The teacher frowned slightly.

There were indeed girls who studied in town, but they were all from wealthy families and attended private classes with only other girls.

For someone like Jiang Ji to send his sister to a school full of boys—that was unheard of. No one in the village had ever done such a thing. Even he, as the teacher, only taught his granddaughters at home.

He looked at Jiang Xia, clearly conflicted. “Our school doesn’t have any girl students.”

Jiang Ji met his gaze calmly. “Then it’ll have one starting today. Everything has a first time.”

The teacher still looked uneasy. “Our students are all boys. There’s a difference between men and women—it might be inconvenient for her to attend.”

Jiang Ji understood what he meant. This was ancient times, after all—people were conservative. In town, young ladies from respectable families weren’t even allowed to meet unrelated men. Village life was looser, since girls had to help with farm work, but gender separation was still a rule everyone followed.

He thought for a moment, then said, “Teacher, my sister Jiang Xia can start in the beginner’s class with her younger brothers. She won’t be with the older boys. The beginner’s class children are still small—it won’t cause any trouble. She just wants to learn to read, write, and understand proper conduct. Please, Teacher, allow her to attend.”

The teacher, seeing how sincere he was, glanced at Jiang Xia and after a pause asked, “How old is the young lady?”

“Thirteen,” Jiang Xia replied.

The teacher froze again. At that age, most girls were already at home preparing for marriage—how could she still be sent to school?

“Isn’t that a bit… inappropriate for her age?” he said hesitantly.

Jiang Ji quickly responded, “Teacher, she’s only thirteen—it’s not that old.”

The teacher shook his head. “If she were younger, perhaps. But at thirteen…”

Seeing her father-in-law about to refuse, Hong Xiu hurriedly spoke up. “Father, it’s rare for Jiang Xia to want to learn. Their home is right behind ours, and she’ll be studying with her two younger brothers. Just let her come.”

The teacher looked at his daughter-in-law, and she gave a small cough, glancing toward her mother-in-law, who was pounding rice nearby.

Catching the hint, the teacher hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Very well. She may join.”

The school belonged to the old scholar anyway—his word was final. Jiang Ji and his family were delighted and immediately offered the tuition gift they had brought.

Seeing that business was settled, Hong Xiu quickly said, “Just in time, Auntie—I heard your family has those new rice seeds and something called corn seeds, is that true?”

The two villages were close; everyone knew one another. From yesterday to this morning, people in Shanqian Village had been busy renting and buying land. News had spread quickly—Jiang Ji’s family had rice that could double the yield, and seeds of new foods from the south.

People in this village were intrigued and had already begun asking around, hoping to get help from Shanqian villagers to buy some seeds.

Two or three women married into Shanqian Village had even reserved seeds for their natal families.

Naturally, the teacher’s household had also heard. They had discussed visiting Jiang Ji’s home that afternoon to ask—but unexpectedly, Jiang Ji himself had come first.

Hearing this, Jiang Ji wasn’t surprised. The two villages were close; everyone’s fields bordered each other. News traveled fast.

Then it struck him—the families who had bought larger quantities of seeds this morning all had wives from this very village.

After thinking it through, he understood: they were likely buying seeds for their maiden families.

And that little glance Hong Xiu had given her father-in-law earlier—maybe she had persuaded him to accept Jiang Xia as a student precisely for this reason.

Once he realized it, Jiang Ji smiled. “Yes, we have new high-yield rice, and also sweet potato, potato, and corn seeds. Originally they were meant for our village first, but if your family wants some, I can set aside a batch for you.”

Hong Xiu’s face lit up. “That would be wonderful! We’re just not quite sure how good these seeds actually are.”

Jiang Ji said, “How about I explain a bit about them?”

“Please do!” Hong Xiu said eagerly.

So Jiang Ji briefly described the benefits of each crop and added, “Most families in our village are planting half new seeds and half old, just to be safe. You can do the same. When you’ve decided, come register at my house. The day after tomorrow we’ll start selling sweet potato and potato seedlings, so if you want any, decide soon.”

After discussing with her father-in-law, Hong Xiu said, “Alright, my husband’s gone to town. When he’s back, we’ll talk it over and come find you.”

“Good,” Jiang Ji replied.

With the school matter settled, everyone was in high spirits.

When they got home, there were already people registering for seeds.

After chatting with them and seeing them off, Jiang Yan asked, “How did it go? Did the teacher agree to take Jiang Xia?”

Jiang Ji nodded happily. “He did.”

“That teacher’s more open-minded than I expected,” Jiang Yan remarked.

Jiang Ji chuckled and lowered his voice. “There’s a story behind it.”

Jiang Yan raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Jiang Ji told him what had happened at the teacher’s house. Jiang Yan nodded when he finished. “I see.”

“Yeah,” Jiang Ji sighed. “I’d prepared all sorts of arguments to persuade the teacher—didn’t even get to use most of them.”

Jiang Yan’s brows lifted slightly. “You sound almost disappointed.”

“Kind of,” Jiang Ji admitted with a grin. “Didn’t get to show off my eloquence. But I’m still really happy he accepted Xia.”

Jiang Yan smiled and shook his head. He turned to the notebook he’d been copying from. “This one’s done—it’s the sweet potato guide. What should I write on the cover?”

“Just ‘Sweet Potato Planting Guide,’ plain and simple,” Jiang Ji said.

“Alright.” Jiang Yan picked up his brush and began to write.

Jiang Ji watched him—his back straight, his head slightly bowed, movements calm and sure. His grip on the brush was steady, his long, clean fingers precise and graceful.

Each stroke flowed smoothly like drifting clouds and flowing water—poised and elegant, pleasing to the eye.

The characters he wrote were beautiful: upright, bold, and strong, with a confident flair that made them even more striking than printed text.

Jiang Ji thought Jiang Yan truly had the bearing of a scholar. Yet Jiang Ji had also seen his physique—broad shoulders tapering to a trim waist, each muscle lean and defined, a body shaped by rigorous training.

A sharp, stoic face, a powerful frame, and yet that calm, refined aura—it was a strange contrast that somehow fit perfectly together, as if that combination was exactly what he was meant to be.

It was… captivating.

Jiang Ji found himself staring a bit too long. When Jiang Yan finished writing and looked up, he caught Jiang Ji watching him, lost in thought.

Jiang Yan paused, then lowered his gaze slightly. “What is it? Did I make a mistake?”

Snapping out of it, Jiang Ji said quickly, “No, I was just thinking—the characters on the cover look a bit different from the ones inside. Do you use a different style for large writing?”

“I don’t know,” Jiang Yan lifted his gaze to meet his. “How about I write something for you to see?”

“Sure,” Jiang Ji said at once.

Jiang Yan set the notebook aside and spread out a fresh sheet of paper. “What do you want me to write?”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. “How about ‘May wealth flow in from all directions.’”

Jiang Yan: …

Seeing his slightly speechless expression, Jiang Ji blinked. “What? Isn’t that a good phrase?”

Jiang Yan shook his head with a quiet laugh. “No, it’s fine. ‘Wealth from all directions’ it is.”

He held his brush poised in the air for a moment, as if considering the composition, then began to write.

Within moments, the four characters were finished—strokes bold and vigorous, full of strength and life, the momentum of the brush like coiling dragons and soaring serpents.

Jiang Ji could only gasp in amazement, raising a thumb.

“Damn, that’s incredible!”

“You’re a calligraphy master!”

Jiang Yan turned to look at him. “You like it?”

“Of course I do—love it! I’m framing this and hanging it on the wall!” Jiang Ji’s eyes shone brightly.

Jiang Yan’s gaze softened, a quiet gleam in his eyes, and the corners of his lips curved upward again despite himself.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

During lunch, Jiang Ji discussed with Zhao Ru about buying an ox. Since he was heading to town anyway to buy notebooks, he figured he’d get one while he was there.

With so much farmland now, life without an ox would be inconvenient. They still had some silver saved, so Zhao Ru agreed immediately.

“I’ll clean out the pigsty later so we can use it for now.”

“Alright. Once I’m back, I’ll reinforce it and turn it properly into a cowshed.”

Jiang Ji thought the villagers would take time to decide—after all, these were all new crops, and hesitation was natural. But unexpectedly, just after lunch, someone knocked on the door to register for seeds.

It was the village head.

He had gone home, thought things over carefully, discussed it with his family, and then made up his mind.

“I’ll take enough seeds for three mu of rice, two mu of sweet potatoes, one mu of cotton, one mu of peanuts, half a mu of potatoes, half a mu of soybeans, and four mu of corn. You can help me calculate how many jin I’ll need.”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. “You plan to intercrop all your corn with the sweet potatoes and potatoes, right?”

“That’s right.”

From what Jiang Ji knew of the village head’s land, it seemed he was planting half in the new varieties and half in the old—steady growth through cautious change. That would probably be most people’s approach.

“Village Head, I also have vegetable and fruit seeds. Want some?”

The village head looked intrigued. “What kinds? New varieties?”

“All sorts.” Jiang Ji scratched his head. “We’ve got improved versions of the vegetables we already grow, and some entirely new ones. I’m heading to town this afternoon. When I get back, I’ll write everything down. In ten days or half a month, when it’s time to sow them, I’ll show everyone the list—then they can decide if they want to buy.”

“Alright, write it up first,” said the village head, pleased that Jiang Ji seemed organized. “Need someone to help you copy it down?”

“No need, Jiang Yan can help me.” Jiang Ji paused, then added, “Village Head, if you trust me, set aside half a mu or a full mu of good land. I want to try growing something new—it’ll make more money than vegetables.”

The village head’s eyes lit up. “What is it?”

“Watermelons,” Jiang Ji said. “Come by tonight and we’ll talk it over.”

“Alright.”

“Oh, and Village Head—I want to go into town to buy an ox. Could you come help me take a look? I don’t know how to pick one.”

“Sure thing. You going now?”

“Yes. I want to start plowing tomorrow.”

“Alright, let’s go. Jiang Nan, go tell the family I’m heading to town with your brother.”

Jiang Nan nodded obediently. “Okay.”

Before leaving, Jiang Ji opened his notebook for Jiang Yan. “If anyone comes to register for seeds, write it down for me. Here’s the amount of seed each crop needs per mu—help them calculate it. Just jot it down; I’ll be back soon.”

He handed over a new notebook. “Use this one. Write like I do—this column for name, this one for seed type, this one for quantity. And don’t write too big.”

When Jiang Yan wrote with a pen, he still carried his brushwriting habits—his characters were huge, taking up half a page.

“Got it,” Jiang Yan said readily.

“Oh, and if Uncle Tu Gen comes to register, tell him not to rush. I’ll discuss things with him tonight when I return.”

“Alright.”

With that, Jiang Ji and the village head headed to town.

Not long after they left, Uncle Tu Gen arrived. Jiang Yan relayed Jiang Ji’s message, and the man agreed without complaint.

In town, Jiang Ji first stopped by a shop to buy blank notebooks—twenty in all—and a large stack of paper sheets.

The village head asked, “What are you doing with so many notebooks?”

“To write down the planting methods. I’m having Jiang Yan copy each crop’s instructions so it’ll be easier to share later,” Jiang Ji explained.

The village head’s eyebrows lifted. “Ah, so you want other villages to grow them too—and they can just follow what’s written?”

“Exactly. I can’t go to every single village to explain how to plant; there’s no time. It’s better to pass it along person to person—or through writing.”

The village head nodded secretly, impressed. For someone so young, Jiang Ji was already planning things so thoroughly.

When they reached the livestock market, the village head helped him pick out a three-year-old water buffalo, already trained for plowing, for seven taels of silver.

In their area, the fields were mostly flat. Jiang Ji’s family had many paddies, so a water buffalo was better suited than a yellow ox—it had greater strength and endurance, perfect for deep tilling both wet and dry fields.

Deep tilling improved soil aeration, prevented compaction, and reduced pests and weeds.

In a time without pesticides or chemical fertilizers, deep tilling was vital.

Once the purchase was made, the two led the ox home at a leisurely pace.

When they arrived, Jiang Ji was surprised to see the pigsty already cleaned out and converted into a proper cowshed. The surrounding fence had been repaired and reinforced with wooden planks, and a thick layer of straw had been laid inside for bedding.

“Mother, you already got it all done? I said I’d fix it when I came back.”

Zhao Ru smiled. “Jiang Yan helped.”

Jiang Ji looked over at him. Jiang Yan’s face was calm as ever. “I had nothing else to do. It was simple.”

Jiang Ji was speechless.

Nearby, Jiang Bei piped up cheerfully, “Brother Jiang Yan didn’t actually know how to build a cowshed—Uncle Tu Gen came to teach him.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Seeing his usually composed expression crack a little, Jiang Ji burst out laughing, leading the ox into its new home, untying the rope, and tossing it a bundle of straw to eat.

The family gathered outside the pen to watch, full of curiosity. Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei were especially excited, chattering nonstop.

“It’s huge!”

“Not as big as Uncle Fugui’s buffalo, though.”

“His ox is old. Ours looks younger.”

“Brother, how old is it?”

Jiang Ji grinned. “Three years and two months.”

“Wow, it’s only three years old? And it’s already going to work the fields?”

The two little rascals immediately looked at the ox with sympathetic eyes.

“It’s already grown,” Jiang Ji chuckled, giving each of them a light pat. “When you’ve got time, go cut some grass to feed it. And when you’re not in school, you can take it out to graze.”

Jiang Nan lit up. “Okay! I like herding oxen!”

Jiang Ji was surprised—this kid liked herding oxen?

From what he remembered, watching cattle meant following them constantly, never letting them out of sight—if they wandered off or trampled someone else’s crops, that would be trouble.

And this child actually liked that?

He couldn’t quite understand it, but he respected it. “Alright then, you can start tomorrow afternoon.”

“Okay!”

Jiang Ji washed his hands, brought the notebooks and paper back to his room, and asked Jiang Yan, “Did anyone else come this afternoon to register for seeds?”

“Twenty-seven people. I wrote them all down.” Jiang Yan handed him the notebook. “Most bought enough rice seed for one or two mu, others about half a mu. Corn was the most popular.”

Jiang Ji flipped through it. Just as Jiang Yan said, most villagers followed the same cautious plan as the village head—half old crops, half new.

“Reasonable,” Jiang Ji said. “There’s always risk.”

“But one family bought a lot more,” Jiang Yan said, pointing to a name—Jiang Daguì. “See? He bought nearly double the others.”

Jiang Ji glanced at the name. “Ah, Uncle Daguì.”

“Does he have more land?” Jiang Yan asked.

“Not really. About three mu of farmland and three mu of wasteland—it’s been fallow for four years now. I think he’s got another three mu of paddies.”

Jiang Yan raised his brows. “So he’s going all in on the new crops.”

At that moment, Jiang Bei came in and overheard them. “Uncle Daguì went to rent land this afternoon! His son Xiao Shitou said he rented several more mu.”

“Oh, that explains it,” Jiang Ji said.

Jiang Bei went on, “I heard Aunt Xiufang telling Mother that lots of people went to buy or rent land this afternoon. Some bought, some rented—either way, half the village went out. Uncle Tu Gen even rented two more mu from the landlord.”

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan exchanged a glance and smiled. The villagers reacted faster than he’d expected.

Looking at the stack of notebooks, Jiang Yan asked, “So how are you planning to copy all these down?”

Jiang Ji had already thought it through. “One crop per notebook. I’ll start with what I’ve written down already. If new problems come up later, I’ll keep adding to the end.”

Jiang Yan nodded. “Makes sense.”

He rolled up his sleeves to start writing, and Jiang Ji frowned. “You’re not planning to start right now, are you?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t.” Jiang Ji stopped him. “It’s getting dark. You’ll strain your eyes. Do it in daylight—it’s not urgent.”

The tung oil lamp here gave off such dim light that if he ruined his eyesight, there’d be no way to fix it. Glasses didn’t even exist yet.

Jiang Yan paused, let his sleeves fall, and lowered his gaze. “Alright.”

That night after dinner, the village head, Uncle Tu Gen, and Aunt Xiufang all came to Jiang Ji’s house. Everyone gathered in the kitchen.

Jiang Ji brought out a watermelon and several tomatoes he’d exchanged from the system.

Everyone stared curiously at the unfamiliar things—a green fruit the size of a small pot, and several red ones about the size of fists.

“What are those?” Jiang Nan asked curiously.

“The green one’s called watermelon. These red ones are called tomatoes—or xihongshi.” Jiang Ji washed the tomatoes, cut them in half with a knife, and handed each person a piece. “Try it. You can eat it raw or cook it as a dish.”

Everyone trusted him, so they didn’t hesitate. They sniffed first, then took a bite.

Juice burst out at the first bite, the flesh sweet and tangy with a unique fruity aroma.

“It tastes refreshing,” Aunt Xiufang said—she liked it immediately.

The village head frowned slightly. “Smells a bit odd, but the taste’s fine.”

Jiang Xia curved her brows in delight. “I like it.”

Tomatoes did have a distinctive scent—some people loved it, others didn’t.

Jiang Ji turned to Jiang Yan. “What do you think?”

“It’s fine,” Jiang Yan nodded.

Jiang Ji finished his half quickly. “This tastes great stir-fried with eggs—or made into tomato egg soup.”

When everyone finished, Jiang Ji had them rinse their mouths, then started cutting the watermelon.

As soon as the knife pierced the rind, the melon split open with a crisp crack, and a wave of fresh sweetness filled the air.

“This one’s a good melon,” Jiang Ji said, pleased with the sound. He sliced it into wedges and told everyone, “Eat the red flesh, spit out the seeds.”

One by one, everyone took a piece.

Zhao Ru habitually smelled it first—the sweet scent hit her nose, and she said, “It smells so sweet already.”

The others nodded.

Uncle Tu Gen bit in first, took two chews, and his eyes lit up as he gave a big thumbs-up.

“This is delicious! So sweet!”

The others followed, all wearing the same look of delighted surprise.

“It’s so good!”

“Sweet but light—not cloying at all.”

“And you barely have to chew—it’s full of juice!”

“So refreshing!”

Watching their reactions, Jiang Ji turned to Jiang Yan again. “Well? How’s this one?”

Jiang Yan nodded, his expression relaxed. “Sweet and crisp—leaves a fragrance in the mouth.”

When everyone finished the watermelon and washed their hands, Aunt Xiufang asked, “Xiao Ji, you’re planning to grow these two, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Our family definitely will,” Jiang Ji nodded, looking at Aunt Xiufang, Uncle Tu Gen, and the village head. “Would you like to plant them with me?”

When Aunt Xiufang and the others saw Jiang Ji bring out the tomatoes and watermelon, they already guessed what he meant to do—otherwise, he wouldn’t have called them over specifically.

After tasting the two fruits and then hearing him confirm that he wanted to grow them together, everyone was immediately excited.

With flavors like those, they’d have no trouble selling, and since only they would have them, the prices would surely be good.

Aunt Xiufang didn’t hesitate. “We’ll plant them with you!”

“Count me in too,” said the village head with a nod.

He understood perfectly. Unlike corn or rice that everyone would soon be planting, this was different—only their three families would have these crops. If sales went well this year, next year everyone in the village would want to buy seeds from Jiang Ji. They couldn’t miss this first opportunity.

This outcome was exactly what Jiang Ji had expected. The moment he decided to let them taste the fruits, he’d known they’d agree.

“Let me explain first,” he said. “Tomatoes are relatively easy to grow, but watermelons are trickier—they need more attention and effort. Think about how much land you want to set aside for them.”

Aunt Xiufang exchanged a glance with Uncle Tu Gen and asked, “How much are you planning to plant yourself?”

Jiang Ji had already discussed it with Zhao Ru earlier.

“We have over seventeen mu of dry land. We’re planting all of it with new crops, leaving just a little bit for old vegetables for home use—but even those will be grown from new seeds. Four mu of watermelon, two mu of tomatoes, two mu of chili peppers, two mu of cotton, one mu of potatoes, one mu of bitter melon, one mu of pumpkin, one mu of lettuce, two mu of sweet potatoes, one mu of onions—and corn intercropped.”

The village head and the others were stunned.

“Half the things you just said—we’ve never even heard of them,” Aunt Xiufang said.

Jiang Ji nodded. “Right. None of these grow around here. But rarity makes them valuable—the things others don’t have are the ones that sell for the best prices.”

That made sense, though Aunt Xiufang sighed. “We don’t have that much land to plant.”

“That’s why I suggested you focus on watermelons and tomatoes,” Jiang Ji said. “Those two should sell best. It’s better to grow more watermelons—they keep longer and can be transported farther. Tomatoes don’t store or travel as well. Or, if you don’t want tomatoes, you can grow pumpkins instead. They also keep for a long time, can be eaten in many ways—stir-fried, made into porridge—and you can store them to sell slowly.”

While he spoke, Jiang Yan and the others listened quietly. The warm candlelight flickered over Jiang Ji’s face as he talked about planting and planning, and everyone could almost see the golden harvest months ahead shining in his expression.

The village head and Uncle Tu Gen discussed for a while. Jiang Ji didn’t interrupt; he just went to drink some water.

In the end, the village head decided to plant one mu of watermelon and a small patch of tomatoes as a test.

Uncle Tu Gen and Aunt Xiufang chose to take a gamble—they’d plant two mu total, half watermelon and half tomato. The rest of their land, aside from a small vegetable plot for their own food, would be filled with sweet potatoes and corn, enough to make sure their family wouldn’t go hungry.

After seeing them off, Jiang Ji, Jiang Yan, and Zhao Ru talked more about field work.

With so much land now, there was a lot to manage—so many things to plan ahead.

As they spoke, a pot of water simmered on the stove. Zhao Ru sent the two little monkeys off to bathe, while Jiang Ji sat down with a notebook and began writing.

They were about to start plowing and seedling preparation—he’d need to hire labor. How much should he pay per day?

They also had to start composting fertilizer. For forty mu of land, the family’s current manure was far from enough. They’d need to hire people to collect more from town…

Fertilizer was a major issue. Urban waste was probably already claimed by regular collectors—whether they could get any was uncertain.

Oh, and school would start soon. He’d have to visit the teacher tomorrow afternoon to arrange for Jiang Nan, Jiang Bei, and Jiang Xia’s enrollment.

There was too much to do. Afraid he’d forget, Jiang Ji wrote everything down one by one, ranking them by priority—first, second, third, fourth—and planning to tackle them step by step.

Jiang Yan watched him bent over the small table and frowned. “Didn’t you say writing at night would strain your eyes?”

Jiang Ji’s hand paused. He looked up. “…There’s just too much to remember. I’m afraid I’ll forget.”

Jiang Yan gazed at him quietly.

Realizing he’d just contradicted himself, Jiang Ji sighed. “Fine, then help me think—what should we do about fertilizer? Forty mu of land, and what we have isn’t nearly enough.”

Jiang Yan thought for a moment. “Go collect from the city?”

“Probably not easy—people there already have regular hauling arrangements.”

Jiang Yan had only learned about farming by observing these past few days. “Are there other kinds of fertilizer?”

“Yes,” Jiang Ji said. “Manure from chickens, ducks, pigs, cows, humans—mixed with fallen leaves, silt from ponds, and so on. Combine them and you get compost.”

“Then tomorrow, let’s collect fallen leaves in the forest. Once it’s warmer, we can dig pond mud.”

Jiang Ji smiled. “That’s right. But during spring plowing, we won’t have time to ferment compost—it won’t be ready for at least two months, and even then, it won’t be enough. Crops need a lot of fertilizer during growth…”

He stopped suddenly.

Jiang Yan asked, “What is it?”

“…Nothing.”

Jiang Ji blinked, set down his pen, and quietly opened his system interface on the table.

He suddenly remembered—he hadn’t yet claimed his intermediate farming skill reward.

He opened the task panel, found the mission, and clicked “Claim Reward.”

In an instant, countless modern agricultural techniques flooded his mind.

The sheer amount of information made him dizzy for a moment, but he quickly recovered.

As he processed the memory, he was surprised to find new methods from modern organic farming that could solve the fertilizer shortage during the rice-growing season.

“Wow, that’s brilliant,” Jiang Ji couldn’t help exclaiming aloud.

Jiang Yan, seeing him suddenly speak while staring down at something, looked puzzled. “What?”

Jiang Ji looked up at him. “Nothing. I just thought of something. I’ll step out for a bit.”

With that, he went outside.

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei, fresh from their baths and still unwilling to go to bed, ran into the kitchen. “Brother Jiang Yan, where’s my brother?”

“He went out to take care of something.”

“Oh.”

Since Jiang Yan couldn’t bathe yet, he filled a basin with water and took it to his room to wipe himself down.

After washing up and putting on clean clothes, he came out carrying the basin—and saw Jiang Ji crouched in the corner of the courtyard, back turned toward him, apparently talking to someone. But from the distance, Jiang Ji’s voice was low, and Jiang Yan couldn’t make out the words.

He looked more closely. It didn’t seem like there was anyone in front of Jiang Ji.

After pouring out the water, he turned to Jiang Bei, who was standing at the kitchen door. “Who’s your brother talking to?”

Jiang Bei glanced over and answered casually, used to the sight. “Oh, he’s talking to the imm—”

Jiang Yan: “?”

Before he could finish, Jiang Bei clapped a hand over his mouth. He suddenly remembered his brother had told him not to mention anything about gods or spirits to others. His little brain spun fast. “…Who? No one! There’s no one there. My brother—he’s just talking to himself. Yeah, just to himself.”

Jiang Yan: …

He looked at Jiang Ji’s silhouette, thoughtful.

Jiang Bei, sweating nervously, added again for emphasis, “Brother Jiang Yan, my brother really is talking to himself.”

“Mhm. I know,” Jiang Yan replied softly, not pressing further, and went back into the kitchen.

There was something unusual about Jiang Ji—some secret, perhaps. Like today, when he’d somehow produced watermelons and tomatoes out of nowhere; clearly, they hadn’t come from town, since even the village head didn’t know about them.

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei must know something too; children weren’t good at hiding that sort of thing.

Still, since Jiang Ji didn’t speak of it, Jiang Yan didn’t pry.

As a guest, that much respect was the least he could offer.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

That evening, the village head personally went door to door, notifying the heads of each household to gather at Jiang Ji’s courtyard the next morning around midmorning.

“Village Head, what’s this meeting about? Did something big happen in the village?”

“Yeah, why aren’t we meeting at the ancestral hall? Why at Jiang Ji’s place?”

Explaining one by one would take too long, so the village head simply tossed out a tempting hint: “High-yield rice seeds! They can double production. First come, first served—if you miss out, you’ll regret it.”

“High-yield rice? Seriously?”

“You’ll find out if you come!”

The news spread quickly. Every household was buzzing with a mix of excitement and doubt, going to bed full of curiosity.

That night before bed, Jiang Ji went out to the courtyard and updated the title of his livestream:

[Shock! Introducing New Crops — Watch How Ancient People React to New Things!]

Since unlocking the “seed” reward item, he had replaced all his other reward options with seeds. There were only seven reward slots available, so Jiang Ji chose hybrid rice, sweet potatoes, corn, potatoes, cotton, peanuts, and soybeans.

Over the past few days, his livestream viewership had been exploding, with daily totals reaching two to three million people. On the days he built the flush toilet, the numbers had even peaked at four million.

He had asked his viewers about it—turned out that day had been a weekend, and the number of gifts and donations had also spiked.

So, he decided to schedule the seed-promotion meeting for another weekend.

“Alright, my friends,” Jiang Ji said cheerfully on stream, “I’ve got a mission to hit five million viewers in one day. That’s why I picked tomorrow—it’s your weekend. Please help me spread the word! The meeting starts at nine in the morning—let’s hit the trending list together!”

【You’ve already got forty mu of farmland, and you still care about that little mission reward?】

Jiang Ji grinned. “Come on, that’s all borrowed money, remember? And besides, the reward is the Intermediate Farming Skill! I want to see if there’s anything useful from modern farming techniques I can apply here.”

【Let’s gooo! I want to see how they react!】
【Same, I’m sure the rice will sell, but I’m curious if the villagers will be willing to try the new sweet potatoes and potatoes.】
【Fortune favors the bold—those who dare win!】

Jiang Ji laughed. “Exactly! Those who dare will have full bellies; those who don’t can stay hungry. It’s their choice. Just give it a few months—once they see others harvesting and earning silver, they’ll understand.”

After chatting a while longer with his viewers, Jiang Ji went back to bed.

When the light went out, he nudged Jiang Yan’s arm and whispered, “Hey, Jiang Yan, do you think they’ll be willing to plant sweet potatoes with me?”

Jiang Yan turned his head toward him, his silhouette faint in the dark. “Why? You worried?”

“Worried? Nah.” Jiang Ji lay on his back, one hand behind his head. “I’m not the one who’ll go hungry anyway.”

Jiang Yan’s brow arched slightly. “So… no confidence? Nervous?”

Jiang Ji shot him a sideways glance. “Do I look like the nervous type to you?”

Jiang Yan didn’t answer, but Jiang Ji heard a soft chuckle beside him. He almost thought he imagined it. “You just laughed, didn’t you?”

“Did I?”

“You did.”

“You must’ve misheard.”

Jiang Ji huffed. “Sure, sure. You’re just lucky it’s dark, so I can’t see that smirk. Covering your ears doesn’t hide the bell, you know.”

Jiang Yan: …

Jiang Ji said no more and soon drifted off to sleep.

Listening to his slow, steady breathing, Jiang Yan’s lips curved faintly upward.

He really could fall asleep at the drop of a hat.

But Jiang Yan’s mind stayed restless. His wounds were nearly healed, yet his memories still hadn’t returned—not even fragments.

Once he recovered, what should he do?

Should he go investigate Skull Mountain, where the bandits roamed?

Or…

His thoughts trailed off when a warm body inched closer. His arm was suddenly hugged, and a soft, fluffy head burrowed naturally against his shoulder, nestling into the crook of his neck.

Jiang Yan didn’t move. He was already used to it. Tilting his head slightly, he felt Jiang Ji’s soft hair brush against his cheek—cool and ticklish.

Sleep finally overtook him, and he closed his eyes.

…

The next morning, the weather was bright and clear.

After breakfast, Jiang Ji set up two large tables at the entrance of the main hall. Soon, villagers arrived one after another, bringing their own stools and gathering in the courtyard of Jiang Ji’s home.

The village head had already arrived and was maintaining order, guiding everyone to sit in neat rows.

“Village Head, why are we meeting at Jiang Ji’s house? Don’t we usually meet in the ancestral hall?”

“And you said there’s some kind of high-yield rice seed—was that true?”

Everyone was there because of what the village head had said, and now all eyes were on him, full of curiosity and expectation.

The village head chuckled. “You’ll find out soon enough. No need to rush—some folks haven’t arrived yet.”

Just then, a faintly sweet and savory aroma wafted out from the kitchen, instantly catching everyone’s attention.

“What’s that smell? Jiang Ji, what are you cooking? Haven’t you eaten yet?”

“Yeah, what is that? It doesn’t smell like porridge or rice.”

Jiang Ji grinned. “Something good. You’ll get to try it later.”

“What is it? Can’t you tell us now?” The crowd’s curiosity was thoroughly piqued.

“Don’t be so impatient, Uncle. You’ll know in a bit.”

With both the village head and Jiang Ji being tight-lipped, everyone could only wait.

Inside the kitchen, Zhao Ru and Xiufang were busy with Jiang Xia and Tao’er. They had steamed two large pots of rice early that morning, along with sweet potatoes, potatoes, and corn. Now they were cutting everything into small pieces to share later.

The seeds were far too valuable to waste—letting everyone taste the food would be enough.

Outside, Jiang Yan brought out a stool and sat with Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei to the side, watching.

Since his injury, he had hardly left the courtyard except to use the latrine, so many villagers had never seen him in person.

Now, dressed in a simple blue robe, he stood tall and straight. His sharp nose, defined features, and fair skin made him look completely different from the other villagers.

Many people glanced his way; a few young women and newly married wives huddled together, whispering.

“So that’s the young master Jiang Ji rescued?”

“I heard Jiang Ji gave him the name Jiang Yan.”

“He’s so handsome.”

“Really does look like a nobleman—look how fair he is!”

“What, you like him now?”

“Well, he’d have to like me back first.”

Jiang Ji happened to walk by just then, and an older aunt tugged him aside. “Auntie, what’s wrong?”

She nodded subtly toward Jiang Yan. “That Jiang Yan—does he have a wife?”

Jiang Ji looked at Jiang Yan, then back at the group of women. “…”

“Well? Answer us, Jiang Ji!”

Jiang Ji sighed. “I really don’t know, Auntie. You all forgot—he lost his memory.”

“Oh, right, I almost forgot. But even so, he’s probably married, isn’t he?”

“Looks about that age—he must be.”

“A young master from a rich family? Even if he’s not married, I bet he’s got a concubine already. Best not to get your hopes up.”

As the women continued gossiping among themselves, Jiang Ji followed their gaze to Jiang Yan—refined and composed even in coarse homespun clothing. No wonder he was the center of attention.

He shook his head and walked away. Married or not, they’d have to wait until Jiang Yan’s memory returned to know for sure.

*

At that same time, Jin Hua’s family was out in the fields, plowing and weeding.

Her eldest son, Li Laoda, looked toward the distance where villagers were steadily heading to Jiang Ji’s house. Then he glanced at his mother, squatting down and pulling weeds. “Mom, everyone’s gathering over there. Are we really not going?”

“What’s there to go for?” Jin Hua snapped, tossing the weeds aside in anger. “You forgot your brother’s life or death is still uncertain!?”

At the mention of Li Laosan, the second son fell silent and looked over at his younger brother.

Li Laoda gestured with his chin for the second to speak.

Li Lao’er pretended not to notice and kept his head down, working the soil.

The eldest son’s wife, who had been eyeing the talk of high-yield rice enviously, couldn’t help saying, “Mother, the village head said these rice seeds can double the harvest. If we don’t go, we might miss our chance.”

Jin Hua shot up, furious. “He says it and you just believe it? What, am I starving you? Did you forget what that little brat Jiang Ji did to us? My backside still hurts!”

Those ten strokes had been ordered by the county magistrate, not by Jiang Ji—but Jin Hua refused to see reason.

The eldest daughter-in-law wanted to retort but was stopped by her husband. Instead, she motioned with her eyes to their fifteen-year-old son, Qiangzi, signaling him to go have a look.

Qiangzi was a clever boy. “I’ll go… to the latrine,” he said quickly, and then slipped away.

Once he was out of sight, he circled through the village and headed straight for Jiang Ji’s house, crouching behind the outer wall to eavesdrop.

By then, it was nearly time. Not only had every household’s head arrived, but many family members came along too, curious about the so-called high-yield rice.

The courtyard was packed, people shoulder to shoulder.

The village head looked up at the sky, then stepped forward. “Looks like everyone’s here. Check around—anyone missing?”

Someone replied, “I think no one came from Jiang Ming’s house.”

A woman called out, “Jiang Ming caught a cold—I’m here on his behalf.”

Another person added, “What about Jin Hua’s family? I don’t see them.”

“She can walk now, can’t she?”

“I heard her third son’s been sent off under escort to the northwest. No way she’d come to Jiang Ji’s place—she probably hates him to death.”

“She’s got no shame anyway. Raising a beast of a son—she ought to keep her head down.”

Outside the courtyard, Qiangzi heard it all and pursed his lips. His grandmother and uncle’s mess had dragged their whole family down in reputation.

After Li Laosan’s incident, Jin Hua had taken ten lashes, and Li Laosan had been exiled. The villagers despised their family and celebrated their downfall—but everyone knew Jin Hua and Jiang Ji’s families were now mortal enemies.

The village head knew all this well. “Anyone who didn’t come, we won’t wait for. Nobody’s being forced. Quiet down, everyone—let’s start.”

The crowd fell silent, all eyes turning toward the front.

The village head spoke clearly, “I called everyone here today for something important—something that concerns our bellies. When I came around last night, I mentioned a new high-yield rice seed. Some of you probably didn’t believe me, thought I was joking. Well, this new seed came from Jiang Ji. Let him explain it to you himself.”

“What? The new rice seeds were brought back by Jiang Ji?”

“Are you serious?”

“Where on earth did that kid even get new rice seeds?”

Amid the murmurs of shock and disbelief, Jiang Ji stepped forward and stood at the center of the courtyard.

He glanced around the crowd, cleared his throat, and raised his voice. “Uncles, aunts, I get the feeling you still don’t quite believe I actually have new rice seeds, do you?”

Someone shouted, “Then show us!”

“Yeah, let’s see them first.”

Jiang Ji smiled. “Alright. Not only will you see them—you’ll taste them too. Then you can judge for yourselves how they compare to the rice we eat now.”

He turned toward the kitchen and called out, “Mother! Aunt Xiufang! Bring out the rice!”

“Coming!” Zhao Ru replied.

A moment later, Zhao Ru and Xiufang emerged, each carrying a large basin of steaming white rice, which they placed on the central table.

Jiang Ji also set a small bag of rice grains and unhulled seeds on another table for everyone to inspect.

When everything was arranged, Jiang Ji addressed the crowd. “Here—this is the seed rice, and this is the polished rice and the cooked rice made from it. Now, I’d like each household head to come forward and taste it for yourselves. There isn’t much, so please—just one bite each. See how it tastes.”

Immediately, the front rows began surging forward.

“Don’t push! Line up!” Jiang Ji quickly called out.

The village head hurried over to help keep order, and soon the men had queued up properly.

The first two elders at the front could already see the basin clearly—the rice grains were crystal white and glossy, and the aroma alone was enough to make their stomachs rumble.

The rice had cooled to a perfect warmth—just right to eat.

“Alright, go ahead,” Jiang Ji said.

The first elder picked up a chopstickful, popped it into his mouth—soft, chewy, moist, and fragrant.

His eyes lit up. “Delicious,” he said, turning to the others behind him.

“Then hurry up and move! My turn!” the man behind barked.

Still chewing, the first elder stepped aside to inspect the table with the raw rice and seeds.

The polished grains were long and full, bright white with a sheen. He took a handful and sniffed—pure, rich rice fragrance.

“Hey,” said the next uncle, “how did Jiang Ji mill this rice? There’s not a single broken grain!”

“Maybe he sifted it,” another man said, stepping closer.

The first elder nodded. “Whatever he did, it smells amazing. Look at these seeds—plump and firm, not a single shriveled one.”

“You can’t plant the shriveled ones anyway.”

“Of course not. They must’ve been carefully picked.”

“The cooked rice really does taste better than ours—more fragrant and softer.”

One man split open a husked grain and inspected it. “Looks good. But how’s the sprouting rate? What’s the germination like? If it doesn’t sprout well, it’s useless.”

Soon, all the household heads had tasted the rice and crowded around the table to examine the grains and seeds.

Seeing the crowd growing thicker, Jiang Ji called out, “Uncles, if you’ve seen and tasted enough, please make room for the others!”

Someone asked, “Jiang Ji, how’s the sprouting rate? How sure are you it’ll germinate well?”

“Uncle, I’ll explain everything in a moment. Go take your seat first,” Jiang Ji replied.

When the men had all tasted, there was still a little rice left. Jiang Ji then invited the women to come try as well.

After about half an hour, the big basin of rice was completely gone, and everyone settled back into their seats.

Jiang Ji smiled. “Well then—how was it? Does it taste good?”

“It’s definitely better than what we grow now,” one man said. “But you said the yield doubles—is that true?”

Jiang Ji nodded. “It’s true. These seeds come from the south. If managed properly, each mu can yield at least four to five hundred jin.”

He wasn’t exaggerating—without modern fertilizers or pesticides, yields wouldn’t reach the levels of his previous life, but four to five hundred jin was realistic. Considering that local rice only yielded about two hundred per mu, this was indeed double.

He knew just how tempting that sounded to them.

The villagers were stunned.

“Four or five hundred jin?”

“Heavens above—really that much?”

“If that’s true, winter will be much easier this year!”

Jiang Ji let them murmur excitedly for a bit before someone raised a practical question: “How well do the seeds sprout? And how much do you need to plant one mu?”

Normally, with their current poor-quality varieties and old methods, the germination rate was low. Farmers needed twenty to thirty jin of seed just to cover one mu.

But Jiang Ji, with both the body’s original memory and the system’s farming knowledge, quickly compared the numbers in his mind.

In his past life, hybrid rice only required two to four jin per mu—sometimes up to seven, depending on the variety and method.

However, since there were no fertilizers here and it was his first time planting by hand, he added some leeway, just in case.

“If we end up with extra seedlings,” he said, “you can always sell them to others later.”

He continued, “For this variety, you only need six to ten jin per mu. And the growth period is ten to twenty days shorter than our current rice—it ripens faster, so you can harvest earlier.”

Everyone was dumbfounded.

“Only six to ten jin?”

“And it matures faster? You’re not fooling us, are you?”

“Half the seed, double the yield, and earlier harvests? Sounds too good to be true.”

Seeing the skepticism on their faces, Jiang Ji clapped his hands for attention.

“Listen, everyone. The reason you need less seed is because this variety has a higher germination rate and better quality. Germination rate means how many seeds actually sprout. The rice we grow now usually sprouts at about half—sixty percent if you’re lucky.

But this one—this one sprouts at least eighty percent, sometimes even ninety. Think about that difference for a moment.”

Everyone grew animated.

“Heavens! If eight or nine out of ten can sprout, that really would save a lot of seed!”

“If that’s true, our family’s using this rice for sure.”

Jiang Ji continued explaining the benefits of the hybrid rice. “And this variety is very resistant to pests and lodging. You all know how during harvest time our rice stalks tend to fall over—it makes harvesting hard and the straw isn’t much use either, right? Well, this kind doesn’t fall. As long as there’s no extreme weather, it stays standing straight until you harvest.”

He kept talking, and by the end, everyone was visibly excited.

Finally, the village head asked the practical question, “And this rice—do we plant it the same way as before? Do you even know how to grow it?”

“Yeah, is it the same method?”

“What if we plant it wrong and ruin the crop?”

“Everyone, calm down.” Jiang Ji raised his hands, gesturing for quiet. “I’ve already asked around and written everything down. The planting method is mostly the same, but I’ve also got improved ways that can boost the yield even more.”

He added, “One key thing—when sprouting seedlings, we can’t just flood the field like we used to. That lowers the germination rate. Anyway, I’ll show you when it’s time—you can all watch and learn.”

Hearing that he had it figured out reassured the villagers.

“Jiang Ji, how much is this seed per jin?”

Since he was the one introducing it, they all knew they’d be buying from him.

Jiang Ji smiled. “Good question, Uncle Daguì. The new seed costs forty copper coins per jin.”

“What! That expensive?”

“Why don’t you just rob us outright?”

Jiang Ji laughed. “Auntie, it cost me a lot to bring these back from the south. And think about it—how much more rice will you harvest from it? When you do the math, does it really sound expensive?”

The auntie went quiet.

“Alright,” Jiang Ji said, “whether you buy or not, go home and think it over. Now, there’s something else important. I also brought back some new foods from the south. Let’s have everyone try them.”

Zhao Ru and Xiufang came out carrying a basin of sweet potatoes, while Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan went to fetch the potatoes, and Tao’er and Xia’er brought the corn.

The three big basins were set down on the tables, drawing everyone’s eyes.

“What are those?”

“There are three kinds—it’s that smell from before!”

“Jiang Ji, what are these?”

“These,” Jiang Ji said, standing beside the table, picking up each in turn, “are all edible foods. This one’s called hongshu—sweet potato. This is a potato. And this is corn. All of them can be eaten. Like before, uncles, come up one by one and take a small taste.”

To show it was safe, Jiang Ji took a small bite of each right there in front of everyone.

That removed any hesitation. Soon another long line formed, and each person got a small sample—just a bite or two.

“Heavens, this red one—what did you call it? Sweet potato? It’s delicious!”

“This yellow one’s good too! Wife, daughter, come here, try this!”

“The pale yellow one doesn’t have much taste, but it’s still edible.”

The courtyard buzzed with chatter as people tasted the new foods. Some even shared their sample with family members.

The women and children liked the sweet potatoes best.

“Father, this one’s so good!”

“The yellow one’s tasty too!”

“Father, can we plant the red one?”

Soon, everyone had finished eating, licking their lips and smacking their mouths, clearly wanting more.

Just that one bite—it wasn’t enough at all!

They wanted more.

“Jiang Ji, you brought back seeds for these too, right?”

“Yeah, can we plant them?”

They weren’t fools. If Jiang Ji was letting them all try so much, then of course it meant he was planning to sell the seeds.

Jiang Ji smiled. “Yes, we can plant these as well. They all grow in dry fields—sweet potatoes and corn are especially drought-resistant. Sweet potatoes can even grow in wasteland. And all of them can be stored through the winter for a long time. I have connections to buy more seed—it just depends on whether anyone wants them.”

He deliberately paused there, teasing their curiosity.

“Grow on dry land? Of course we want them!”

“You can plant them on wasteland? Then definitely yes!”

“How much do you have?”

“Did you figure out how to plant them?”

“How are you selling them? How much a jin?”

Jiang Ji raised a hand for quiet. “I’ve written down all the planting methods—no need to rush. Sweet potato and potato seeds are ten copper coins per jin. Corn seeds are twenty per jin.”

“Why’s corn so expensive?” someone asked.

Jiang Ji picked an ear of corn and plucked a few kernels. “Corn is planted one grain at a time. A single jin has a lot of kernels, so don’t think it’s pricey.”

He then lifted a sweet potato and a potato. “These are tubers—you use the stems or chunks to grow new ones. And listen—once the sweet potato vines start growing, you can cut and replant the vines directly, and they’ll root again. The vines grow long, and each vine produces more sweet potatoes. You can even feed the vines to pigs and cattle, and the leaves are edible for people too. Basically, every part of the sweet potato is useful.”

“As for the potato, it’s a little trickier to grow than sweet potato, but it’s just as versatile. You can steam it, roast it, stir-fry it, or stew it. Once you start growing these and selling them in town, they’ll be completely unique—no one else will have them. Think how much money that could make.”

As Jiang Ji described all the advantages, outside by the gate, Qiangzi grabbed a small serving and ran off at full speed.

“Father! Mother! Great news—amazing news!”

Li Laoda’s wife, who had been watching for him anxiously, hurried over. “What great news?”

Qiangzi handed the food he was holding to his parents. He had managed to sneak a portion earlier while the crowd was distracted—he’d tasted a little of each item but had saved most of it.

“Father, Mother, Jiang Ji brought back high-yield rice seeds from the south—and these new foods too. They’re delicious! Try them!”

At his words, Li Laoda and his eldest son came closer, and the second brother’s family also walked over.

When Jin Hua heard that her grandson had gone to Jiang Ji’s house, she flared up instantly. “Qiangzi! You little brat! Didn’t you say you were going to the latrine? Where exactly did you go? Trying to make me die of anger, are you?”

Qiangzi shrank his neck, not daring to answer.

Li Laoda’s wife patted her son’s arm, signaling him not to be afraid, and looked curiously at what he held.

“What’s this? Really edible?”

Qiangzi nodded eagerly. “Everyone there tried it. This one’s called a sweet potato, that’s corn, and this one’s called a potato. Taste them!”

Li Laoda picked up a piece of sweet potato and took a small bite, then passed it to his wife to try.

The next moment, both of their faces lit up in surprise and delight. They tasted the corn and the potato too.

Li Laoda’s wife quickly asked, “What’s going on over there? How does he have things like this?”

So Qiangzi repeated everything he’d just seen. “…Anyway, the rice seeds are amazing—need less, grow faster, and yield a few hundred jin more grain. And Jiang Ji said we can grow these too—on dry land—and they keep through the winter. He’s still talking right now; it’s too much for me to remember. You’d better go hear it yourselves.”

“Go? No one’s going anywhere!” Jin Hua shoved Li Lao’er aside, scowling. “Get back to digging! When do you plan on finishing this field?”

The two brothers, who had feared their mother since childhood, were about to obey when the eldest daughter-in-law snapped.

“Enough!”

She had endured her domineering, unreasonable mother-in-law for years. Usually, she could swallow it—but now? Now there were high-yield rice seeds to buy!

And these new foods that could fill bellies!

Their children were growing fast, and so many mouths at home needed feeding. She wanted a full meal for once too!

But this foolish old woman—still clinging to that useless third son—was dragging them all down.

In her opinion, Li Laosan deserved what he got. He’d been lazy all his life, lazing around the fields and chasing after village girls after his wife died. The sight of him disgusted her.

She’d long wanted him gone—and now that he’d been exiled, she felt nothing but relief.

Good riddance.

But now, Jin Hua was still forbidding them from going to buy seeds because of that wastrel? She’d had enough.

What mattered more, pride or food?

The eldest daughter-in-law took a deep breath, grabbed her hoe, and started walking toward Jiang Ji’s house.

“If you won’t go, I will!”

Seeing her defy orders and even yell back, Jin Hua exploded. “You ungrateful wretch! If you dare go, don’t bother coming home!”

The daughter-in-law stopped for a moment. Jin Hua smirked, thinking she’d backed down—

—but then the woman turned to her husband, grabbed his wrist, and said, “You’re coming with me.”

Li Laoda actually wanted to go see, so he followed along.

Their two sons saw their parents leaving and, naturally, went with them.

Jin Hua froze for a second, then shouted, “Do you all even still see me as your mother!? Get back here!”

Li Laoda hesitated mid-step, but his wife tightened her grip on his arm. “Do you want those rice seeds or not? Don’t you want your sons to afford brides someday?”

He glanced at his sons, who both nodded quickly.

“Let’s go, or they’ll run out,” his wife urged, and he finally moved again.

Li Lao’er saw his brother’s family leaving, exchanged a look with his own wife, and thought—food and grain like that? No way he was staying behind to dig. Especially when his brother was going!

They gathered their children and followed too.

Li Laosan’s only son, just ten years old, sensed trouble brewing and hurried after his second uncle’s family.

“Fine! Fine!” Jin Hua shouted after them, hands on her hips, her voice shrill with fury. “You all think you’ve grown wings, huh? Go on, but don’t you dare come back!”

No one responded. She stood there, fuming, powerless.

Meanwhile, Li Laoda’s family reached Jiang Ji’s house but didn’t dare go in. They stood by the gate, listening.

At the front, Jiang Ji stood in the doorway of the main hall, took a sip of water, and continued speaking to the crowd.

“I’ve just told you the benefits of these three crops. Now let me give you the numbers. Right now, the most profitable one to plant is sweet potatoes. Once you buy the seed, you’ll not only harvest them in autumn—you can sell the vines as seedlings all the way through mid-May. That alone will earn back your cost quickly.”

“After the planting season, you’ll need to trim the vines regularly—you can feed those trimmings to pigs, cattle, chickens, ducks, or even stir-fry and eat them. Nothing goes to waste. You won’t lose out, no matter how you look at it.”

“I’m telling you this today because it’s the perfect time to start sprouting sweet potato and potato seedlings. So, if you want to plant, you’d better decide soon.”

Everyone began talking among themselves, debating whether to buy and what kinds of seeds to get.

“Oh right—one more thing,” Jiang Ji paused, suddenly remembering. “Soybean, cotton, and peanut seeds will be available next month too. They’re all high-yield, improved varieties. Everyone should plan your fields carefully—decide what to plant where.”

He added, “And I suggest everyone plant corn.”

An uncle sighed, “We don’t have that much land to plant all these.”

Someone else suddenly realized, “Wait, Jiang Ji, those big fields you bought the other day—are they for planting these crops?”

“Exactly.” Jiang Ji nodded.

Another person said, “The village head and Uncle Tu Gen’s family also bought land.”

“So they already knew! No wonder!”

The village head rubbed his nose, pretending not to hear, while Tu Gen just grinned.

Jiang Ji didn’t bother hiding it. “Yes, I asked them to help me, so I told them early. The gentry near the village still have plenty of fields for sale—they need silver urgently. If any of you have spare money, go buy land quickly.”

“Oh, right—almost forgot because of all this talking.” Jiang Ji looked at the crowd. “I told you to plant corn because corn grows over two meters tall. It can be intercropped with sweet potatoes, soybeans, potatoes, or peanuts.”

“Do you all know what intercropping means? For example, if you plant soybeans on the ridges, you can grow corn between the rows. Corn grows tall, so it won’t block sunlight for the soybeans. They don’t interfere with each other’s growth, which means one plot of land can produce both corn and soybeans. Isn’t that a good deal?”

This explanation amazed everyone—no one had ever thought of it.

“You can do that?”

“Really won’t affect the other crop?”

“If that’s true, that’s great! Same piece of land, but more harvest!”

The crowd asked many more questions, and Jiang Ji answered each one patiently.

Finally, he said, “It’s getting late—almost noon. We’ll stop here for today. Go home and think it over. Those who want seeds, come register at my house later. The quantity is limited, so it’s first come, first served. And those who want sweet potatoes and potatoes, decide soon—after two days I’ll start preparing the seedlings.”

The crowd gradually dispersed, though a few men and women lingered to ask more questions. Another quarter-hour passed before everyone finally left.

Aunt Xiufang helped Zhao Ru wash the wooden basins clean before taking Tao’er home.

Before leaving, she told Jiang Ji, “I just saw Li Laoda’s family standing by your gate, listening in.”

Jiang Ji glanced toward the entrance. Aunt Xiufang added, “They’ve left now—probably off asking around.”

Jiang Ji smiled. “I figured. Thanks, Auntie.”

“You going to sell seeds to their family?” she asked.

Jiang Ji shook his head. “No. We’re enemies now—no way I’d sell to them.”

Aunt Xiufang laughed. “Fair enough. We’ll head back then.”

Jiang Ji carried the wooden table back to her house, and on the way, he heard the familiar voice of System 2977.

[Congratulations, Host, on achieving 5 million viewers in a single day. Reward: Intermediate Farming Skill.]

Jiang Ji’s eyes lit up. “Well, look at that—it worked!”

“Thanks, brothers! Now let’s guess—how many people do you think will come register for seeds?”

[Judging from what we saw earlier, probably quite a few.]

[Not necessarily. Some cautious ones might wait and see first.]

[My guess—about half the village.]

While the chat scrolled with guesses, Jiang Ji returned home, where Zhao Ru was cooking lunch.

In the courtyard, corn cobs, potato peels, and sweet potato skins lay scattered from the earlier demonstration.

Jiang Yan stood tall with a broom, quietly sweeping the mess into a pile.

“I’ll do it,” Jiang Ji offered, walking over.

“No need. My wound’s healed,” Jiang Yan said, stepping aside to continue sweeping.

Seeing he wouldn’t yield, Jiang Ji didn’t insist. “Alright then—can you help me with something else?”

“Go on.”

Jiang Ji scratched his head. “You’ve got neat handwriting. Can you copy down the planting instructions for me?”

Jiang Yan looked at him and smiled. “Sure.”

“Great. I’ll go to town this afternoon and buy a few blank notebooks.”

Curious, Jiang Yan asked, “You’re selling seeds to the villagers—but where are your seeds?”

Jiang Ji’s home was small; one glance covered the whole place, and there was no sign of the sweet potatoes, potatoes, or corn from earlier. He hadn’t seen anyone carrying sacks either—it was as if they’d appeared out of thin air.

Jiang Ji hesitated for half a second, then smiled. “Once everyone finishes registering, they’ll arrive.”

Seeing he didn’t want to explain further, Jiang Yan didn’t press. Instead, he said, “That intercropping idea of yours—it’s really clever.”

“Right? It makes the best use of land. Whoever came up with that method must’ve been a genius.”

Jiang Ji genuinely admired it. With all the agricultural knowledge the system had given him, he was constantly amazed by the ancient farmers’ ingenuity.

Jiang Yan’s brow lifted slightly. “I thought you came up with it yourself.”

Jiang Ji blinked. “Why would you think that?”

Jiang Yan met his gaze, smiling faintly but saying nothing.

After a moment, Jiang Ji looked away, coughed lightly, and said, “I heard it from the southern merchant. He was selling these crops—of course he’d have to teach me how to plant them. Otherwise, who’d buy?”

“That makes sense,” Jiang Yan nodded. “Still, remembering all of it so clearly is impressive.”

Jiang Ji raised his eyebrows proudly. “Well, I do have a decent memory.”

Jiang Yan looked at his animated expression, the lively sparkle in his eyes, and his lips curved slightly—but he didn’t reply.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

The next morning, Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru split up to take care of their own tasks.

Jiang Ji went to find a local landlord to buy farmland, while Zhao Ru brought Aunt Xiufang to the clothing shop. Xiufang had finished a set of undergarments the night before, and today she needed Shopkeeper Sun to inspect her work.

Yesterday, Jiang Ji had already asked the village head about available land. There happened to be a large stretch of farmland near the neighboring village being sold off by a landlord who had lost money in a failed business venture and urgently needed silver. Jiang Ji asked the village head to accompany him to negotiate.

They easily found the seller, and the discussion went smoothly.

Normally, fertile land in this region sold for about five taels of silver per mu, but since the landlord was desperate for money, Jiang Ji managed to bargain the price down slightly—settling at four taels and five qian per mu.

They went to inspect the fields. Jiang Ji picked several good plots that were conveniently located for irrigation, totaling eleven mu and six fen, for a total of fifty-two taels and two qian of silver.

Afterward, they all went to the county office to register the transaction and have the deed transferred.

Holding the freshly issued land deed in his hand, Jiang Ji finally felt at ease.

After leaving the yamen, the landlord went off to take care of other business in town, and Jiang Ji returned to the village together with the village head.

On the way back, Jiang Ji thought about it—he would likely need the village head’s help again in the future—so he said, “Village Head, if your family has some spare money, you should buy a couple of mu of land too, or at least rent a few more.”

The village head had already been puzzled about this yesterday when he’d heard that Jiang Ji planned to buy so much farmland. He knew the family’s situation well. He figured the silver probably came from that young master whom Jiang Ji had saved, but to spend all of it on land still seemed strange.

Now, hearing Jiang Ji urge him to buy land as well, the village head asked, “You’ve bought so much land already—your family can’t possibly manage it all. Are you planning to lease it out?”

“No,” Jiang Ji replied, “we’ll farm it ourselves.”

The village head looked surprised. “You can’t possibly handle that much land on your own.”

“I’ll hire people to help,” Jiang Ji said calmly.

The village head paused, a thought forming in his mind. “You telling me to buy land too—does that mean something?”

Jiang Ji then briefly explained his plan. The village head hadn’t yet seen sweet potatoes or corn, but when he heard that Jiang Ji had access to a new type of high-yield rice seed that could double production, he became intrigued.

Seeing his interest, Jiang Ji pressed gently, “Village Head, what I said is true. I wouldn’t lie to you. It’s best to buy the land outright—and soon. In a few days, when the weather warms up, it’ll be time to sow the fields. If you just rent land, the rent will definitely go up next year. Owning it yourself means you won’t be at anyone’s mercy.”

The village head was a shrewd man. Land in one’s own hands was always valuable. If the harvest really did double as Jiang Ji claimed, both the price of land and rental rates would rise by next year.

But his family didn’t have much silver left—at most, they could afford another three mu.

Jiang Ji then reminded him, “Village Head, could you keep this between us for a few days? Four days will do.”

Four days would give Aunt Xiufang’s family enough time to gather money.

He worried that if the village head mentioned it to his brothers and word spread, people might rush to buy land, and Aunt Xiufang’s family wouldn’t have saved enough yet.

The village head nodded. “Alright.”

When they got back, the village head followed Jiang Ji home to take a look at the sweet potatoes and corn. There wasn’t time to steam them, so he bit into a raw sweet potato to test it—and found it edible. Convinced, he went straight home to fetch his silver and hurried off to buy land from the same landlord.

Meanwhile, Zhao Ru and Aunt Xiufang had arrived at the clothing shop in town.

Shopkeeper Sun examined the garment Xiufang had made and was quite pleased with the craftsmanship. She immediately paid her two taels of silver.

When Xiufang saw she had truly earned two taels, her smile was so wide her eyes nearly disappeared.

Just as they were about to leave, they ran into Madam Qian, accompanied by her old maid. The lady looked radiant and in a very good mood.

Seeing her, Zhao Ru instantly understood—Madam Qian must have been very satisfied indeed.

Madam Qian recognized Zhao Ru at once and took her aside, whispering, “Sister, you’re here to deliver more clothes to Shopkeeper Sun, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Is Madam here to choose more?” Zhao Ru asked.

A faint blush crept across Madam Qian’s cheeks. “I came to pick two more sets.”

Shopkeeper Sun smiled. “Perfect timing—Madam Jiang just brought in some new styles yesterday. Would you like to have a look? I promise you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

“New styles? Alright,” Madam Qian said, following Shopkeeper Sun into the back room, while Zhao Ru and Xiufang took their leave and headed to the fabric shop.

As they walked, Xiufang tugged Zhao Ru’s sleeve and whispered, “That lady—she’s the one buying the undergarments, right?”

Zhao Ru nodded quietly, avoiding any mention of the concubine situation at Madam Qian’s household. “Yes, she bought two sets a few days ago. Seems she liked them a lot—she’s back for more.”

They selected fabric at the shop and rushed home. Xiufang was now so eager to work that she practically wished she could sew in her sleep. Except for eating, sleeping, and going to the latrine, she and her daughter Tao’er stayed glued to Zhao Ru’s room, sewing side by side with her.

As for Jiang Ji, news that he and the village head had gone to buy farmland spread quickly.

No one suspected anything unusual—they were just astonished that Jiang Ji had purchased over eleven mu of land in one go.

Everyone whispered in awe. Jiang Ji must really have saved a wealthy young master, and the reward must have been generous. Otherwise, how could his family suddenly have so much silver to buy that much land?

Jiang Yan also heard about the land purchase. He knew Jiang Ji planned to grow rice, sweet potatoes, and other new crops, and they hadn’t kept any of it from him.

While Jiang Ji was checking his wound, he said, “You’re healing well. It’s closing up nicely. We can remove the stitches in a few days.”

Jiang Yan felt relieved. Looking up, he asked, “I still have some banknotes—should I use them to buy more land?”

Jiang Ji, wrapping the bandage, glanced up with a grin. “Didn’t I tell everyone you only had a bit over a hundred taels left? You need to keep something for yourself, don’t you?”

“I could still use a hundred taels to buy land,” Jiang Yan said.

Jiang Ji paused and looked at him. “You really want to lend me a hundred taels to buy more? Aren’t you afraid I won’t pay you back?”

“It’s fine,” Jiang Yan said casually. “I doubt I’d miss a hundred taels.”

Jiang Ji chuckled. “What a big spender… You sound just like me. But what if you are a fallen young master and this is your last bit of money?”

That could very well have been the case—but Jiang Yan didn’t even blink. “Then I’ll just follow you and farm. We won’t starve.”

Jiang Ji looked at him with a bright, amused smile. “You trust me that much?”

“Yes.” Jiang Yan nodded seriously.

Jiang Ji paused for a beat, then, still smiling, said, “Alright then. If that’s the case, lend me the hundred taels. I’ll buy more land—no such thing as too much.”

And Jiang Yan truly handed him the money.

The very next day, Jiang Ji went out again and bought another twenty-two mu of farmland, which conveniently connected to the plots he’d bought before.

When the villagers found out, they were stunned.

Twenty-two mu—added to the previous eleven plus their family’s original few—made nearly forty mu in total. Overnight, Jiang Ji had become a small landlord.

His public explanation was simple: Jiang Yan had lent him all his money to buy land.

That left everyone speechless again—first, at how readily Jiang Yan had handed over everything without keeping a coin for himself; second, at how lucky Jiang Ji was to have saved such a generous man.

Of course, if it had been anyone else, they wouldn’t have dared to borrow so much money just to buy farmland—not knowing if they could ever repay it.

The village head and Xiufang’s family, however, felt reassured.

If Jiang Ji was willing to invest this heavily, it meant he was confident about the new rice and crops.

And indeed, Jiang Ji was. He had complete faith in sweet potatoes, corn, potatoes, and the high-yield hybrid rice seeds.

Holding the small stack of freshly sealed land deeds, he suddenly felt like a rich man.

“Come on!” he said cheerfully. “Let’s go see our new fields!”

He led his family out to the farmland. They all stood along the ridges, Jiang Yan included.

Jiang Ji pointed ahead. “See that stretch? From here, all the way to that irrigation ditch and up to the roadside—that whole area is our paddy field now.”

“And that whole stretch of dry land over there—that’s ours too!”

As Jiang Ji lifted his arm, he felt an almost heroic surge of pride, his heart swelling with ambition. He could already picture it: months later, the entire expanse rippling with golden crops, bursting with harvest.

The whole family stared in stunned disbelief at the vast stretch of fields before them.

“All of this… really belongs to us?” Jiang Nan asked, wide-eyed and dazed.

Jiang Ji nodded firmly. “That’s right.”

Jiang Bei’s jaw dropped. “Wow! That’s so much land—we can grow tons of food!”

Both Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia broke into smiles.

For people in the countryside, as long as there was land under their feet, there was nothing to fear.

Two days later, Aunt Xiufang’s family had also managed to save enough silver to buy four mu of paddy field and two mu of dry land. Jiang Ji personally took them to the same landlord, buying at the same discounted price.

When they held the freshly sealed land deeds in their hands, both Aunt Xiufang and Uncle Tu Gen were glowing with joy.

They could hardly believe it—just in a few short days, Xiufang and her daughter Tao’er had earned enough from sewing clothes with Zhao Ru to buy six mu of land.

“Xiao Ji, really, thank you,” Uncle Tu Gen said sincerely, patting Jiang Ji’s shoulder with genuine gratitude.

Jiang Ji smiled. “Uncle, no need to thank us. Our family’s made it this far thanks to you and Aunt Xiufang looking after us all these years.”

The couple exchanged a look, deeply moved.

They had only ever offered help within their means—who would have thought such kindness would come back to them like this?

…

As the weather grew warmer and a spring rain passed, wild grass began to flourish.

It was now time to start sprouting sweet potatoes, potatoes, and various summer vegetables and fruits. Crops like rice, corn, soybeans, peanuts, and cotton would have to wait a little longer.

Jiang Ji walked over to the village head’s home.

“Village Head,” he said with a grin, “it’s time to gather everyone.”

He was about to hold a meeting—to announce and sell the seeds.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

The next morning, after checking Jiang Yan’s wound and changing his dressing, Jiang Ji began working on the latrine project.

He wrapped a cloth around his mouth and nose, grabbed his tools, and got to work.

He had already explained to his family the night before what the wooden trough was for. Everyone was curious about this “flush toilet” he kept talking about, so they gathered around to watch.

The old latrine was nothing more than a square pit with thick planks laid across the top. When people squatted, their entire bodies were positioned right above the waste pit, so the stench was overwhelming.

Now, Jiang Ji planned to dig a short sloped trench in front of the pit and set the wooden trough into it. Once fixed in place, he would use thatched walls to separate it from the waste pit behind. Just like that, it would become a simple flush-style toilet.

He first removed the door and the front thatch wall of the old latrine and set them aside. Then, after measuring out the distance, he began digging the trench.

It only needed to be about a meter long and a little over a foot wide, not too deep. He finished it quickly.

Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru carried the wooden trough over and lowered it into place. The pit was a little too narrow, so Jiang Ji dug out a bit more on each side. After a few adjustments, it finally fit snugly—slightly higher than ground level, with wooden planks on both sides to stabilize it.

The slope wasn’t steep, but Zhao Ru was still worried. “Will the trough slide down after a while?”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. “I’ll make some stakes to hold it steady.”

He chopped down a few saplings about as thick as his leg, whittled them into two-meter-long stakes, and hammered two in to block the trough. Then he placed two horizontal beams across the waste pit to brace the stakes and tied everything tightly with rope.

“That should do it, right?” he said, turning to the others. “It shouldn’t move anymore, should it?”

Everyone agreed that it looked good.

“Alright, then.”

Jiang Ji stomped down the dirt around the trough to pack it in, laid two prepared planks on top, and the trench was done.

Next came the grass wall partition.

“Should we just reuse the old wall from the back?” Zhao Ru suggested.

Jiang Ji wrinkled his nose. “No way—that thing’s too disgusting. Let’s make a new one.”

So Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia went off to weave the new wall. Jiang Yan, though still not fully recovered, helped them as best he could without exerting too much strength.

Meanwhile, Jiang Ji found several sturdy logs to make a frame. He extended the original structure by about two meters.

He didn’t know how to build a pointed roof, so he decided to make the frame higher and cover it with a flat top instead.

While he was digging and arranging the posts, Da Zhu—the old doctor’s grandson—passed by and came over curiously. “Jiang Ji, what are you doing?”

“Brother Da Zhu, I’m remodeling the latrine,” Jiang Ji said.

Da Zhu looked toward the existing outhouse. “But you already have one, don’t you?”

Then his gaze fell on the wooden trough. “What’s that?”

“That’s the flushing trough. I carved it myself,” Jiang Ji explained simply, outlining his plan.

As Da Zhu pictured it in his mind, he quickly realized how convenient this “flush toilet” would be and immediately grew interested.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Jiang Ji said, “Brother, if you’ve got some time, could you help me set up the frame?”

Da Zhu agreed readily. “Sure thing!”

He was curious to see how it would look once finished and whether it would really work as well as Jiang Ji claimed.

With Da Zhu’s help, the frame went up quickly, and Zhao Ru’s group had also finished weaving the grass walls.

Together, they tied the walls to wooden poles fastened to the frame. The back wall, the one closest to the waste pit, was packed thick to block the smell. The other three walls were left with an open strip—about a foot high near the top—for ventilation.

When the roof was set in place and secured with ropes, the simple latrine was complete.

Jiang Ji filled an old wooden bucket with water and set it in the corner, adding a gourd ladle beside it. Done!

Everyone gathered around the new latrine with excitement. Jiang Nan rushed in first to test it out.

“Can you squat down?” Jiang Ji called. “You can stand closer to the narrow part in front.”

“I can squat!” Jiang Nan answered proudly from inside.

“Remember to flush!” Jiang Ji reminded him.

“I didn’t actually go,” Jiang Nan said as he came out grinning. “Just wanted to try squatting.”

“Does it still smell?”

Jiang Nan shook his head happily. “Only a little bit! And I don’t feel like I’m gonna fall in anymore!”

Jiang Bei ran in next, tested it, and came out beaming. “Now we don’t have to worry about slipping into the pit!”

Before, when the twins went to the old latrine, they were still small, and squatting above the pit had always been scary—they feared falling in every time. Now that the floor was solid and the waste pit was behind the wall, they finally felt safe.

Jiang Ji laughed. “Good. That’s the point.”

Everyone took turns testing it, and all were satisfied.

Jiang Ji turned to Jiang Yan. “What do you think?”

Jiang Yan nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “Excellent.”

Jiang Ji raised his brows, pleased. “See? Now you don’t have to hold it in anymore. That’s bad for your health.”

Jiang Yan: …

He’d indeed been enduring the old latrine’s stench. With his injury, he didn’t like walking to the grove either, so he often waited until he absolutely couldn’t anymore before going.

He hadn’t realized Jiang Ji had noticed.

Jiang Yan glanced at him—this man looked carefree and casual, but he was surprisingly observant.

After trying it himself, Da Zhu came out and said, “Jiang Ji, this is great! I’m going to build one at home too.”

Seeing everyone’s satisfaction, Jiang Ji felt an odd surge of accomplishment and pride.

He had created this with his own hands—a real, tangible improvement. A quiet joy and fulfillment welled up inside him, something he had never felt in his past life.

By afternoon, word must have spread through Da Zhu. Many villagers came to see the new latrine for themselves. After each visit, they left impressed and cheerful.

Over the next two days, wave after wave of people came to look, and soon, many households in the village began remodeling their own latrines.

Jiang Ji was thrilled. His design had sparked real change—if it made even a small improvement to everyone’s living conditions, that was enough to make him happy.

He even gave some extra advice: if they could afford it, they should coat the trough with paint or tung oil, or use a stone trough instead. It would last longer and make flushing easier. The footboards could be replaced with stone slabs, too.

Before long, word spread beyond their village. People from the neighboring one came to see and started building their own versions.

One household after another followed suit, and soon, the idea was spreading far and wide.

While the villagers busied themselves upgrading their latrines, Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia finished another ten or so sets of undergarments.

Each one looked different. Some had lace—large lace, small lace—some had bows, and others were simple and plain. There were even three specially made lighter, breezier sets.

Jiang Ji stared, astonished. “You two made this many styles?”

“I came up with seven or eight designs, Xia’er thought of three, and together we added another three,” Zhao Ru said. “You’ve seen what the immortals use, right? What do you think?”

Jiang Ji gave a big thumbs-up. “Perfect. Mother, Xia’er, you both have real talent for design!”

He’d only given them a general direction and a few suggestions. For two women who had never seen modern lingerie before, to be able to innovate like this was remarkable.

“De… design?” Zhao Ru repeated, puzzled.

“Design means creating new patterns and styles,” Jiang Ji explained. “When people sew, they usually copy existing clothes. But designers—designers invent new looks and lead trends. That’s a rare kind of talent—one in a million.”

Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia both brightened, delighted by his praise.

They brought the finished pieces to the city and delivered them to Shopkeeper Sun. When she saw how each set had a unique design, she was thrilled.

“Madam, how did you come up with so many styles?” Sun exclaimed. “Honestly, I’ve hired other women to make these, but none of theirs look this good or this creative!”

“As long as you’re satisfied,” Zhao Ru replied with a smile. Then she asked, “Shopkeeper, are you still looking for more workers? I have a friend—she’s very skilled with the needle too. Could she take some of your orders?”

Shopkeeper Sun, in high spirits, agreed readily. “Sure. Have her make one set following your design. If it meets the standard, I’ll pay her the same rate as you. I haven’t paid any other seamstress this well.”

Zhao Ru nodded happily. “Of course. I’ll ask her to make a sample for you to see first.”

“Good.” Shopkeeper Sun leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Madam, just a heads-up—this business won’t stay exclusive for long. We need to make as much profit as we can now. In about ten days, I’ll be sending shipments to the prefecture and the provincial capital. Once people there catch on, others will start copying us, and our profits will shrink fast.”

Zhao Ru understood immediately. “We’ll need to come up with new styles constantly, so we don’t fall behind.”

“Exactly.” Shopkeeper Sun was pleased with her quick understanding. “So, Madam, for these next ten days, make as many as you can. Earn what you can while the market’s still fresh. After that, depending on sales, I’ll let you know how much we’ll need.”

“Alright, thank you, Shopkeeper.”

That day, they sold thirteen sets—four silk ones at three taels each, and the rest at two taels per set—earning a total of thirty taels of silver.

When they got home, Zhao Ru first told Jiang Ji that she wanted Aunt Xiufang to help make clothes too.

Aunt Xiufang had done a lot for their family—she was straightforward, generous, and not the type to leak others’ secrets or ruin her own source of income—so Jiang Ji nodded in agreement.

Thinking about the coming spring planting, Jiang Ji asked, “Mother, what if we use some of the money to buy more farmland?”

“Buying land is fine,” Zhao Ru said, “but can we manage it?”

Every farmer dreamed of having more land, but when she thought about it seriously, their household only had about two and a half laborers. Their current fields already matched their capacity.

Jiang Ji said, “We definitely can’t handle it all ourselves. But when it gets busy, I can hire help. Later, even if we don’t farm it ourselves, we can rent it out.”

Zhao Ru realized her son had already made up his mind and nodded. After all, land wasn’t going anywhere—it would only appreciate.

“Alright.”

Jiang Ji added, “If Aunt Xiufang’s family has some spare money, tell her to buy a bit too. Once we start selling the seeds, the families with savings will all want to buy land. If she waits, it might be too late. Also, tell her not to spread the word yet—let her buy first.”

“Got it. I’ll talk to her.”

So Zhao Ru called Xiufang over and first told her about the clothing business.

“…The shopkeeper said today she’s still looking for people to make them,” Zhao Ru said. “I asked if you could too, and she agreed—but you’ll have to make one set first to show her your needlework.”

When Xiufang saw the small garments Zhao Ru brought out, she was stunned for a long time. “Good heavens, who came up with this?”

Zhao Ru couldn’t exactly say they were modeled after what immortals wore—much less that Jiang Ji had designed them—so she skipped that part. “I just thought it was a good idea. Perfect for summer—comfortable and airy.”

“I think so too,” Xiufang said. “Whoever thought of this must have a clever head—it’s genius!”

Zhao Ru blinked. Well, immortals do have clever heads, she thought.

Once she heard it was profitable—two taels of silver per set—Xiufang agreed without hesitation.

“Thank you, Xiao Ru. I’ll work with you. Quick, show me how to make it!”

Who could turn down the chance to earn silver?

She didn’t even ask where Zhao Ru had gotten this business idea. The fact that Zhao Ru thought of her when there was money to be made already made her happy.

Zhao Ru took her hand. “There’s one more thing I need to tell you.”

Xiufang, still cheerful, said, “Go ahead.”

Zhao Ru lowered her voice. “For the next few days, don’t go to the fields. Use all your time to make clothes. Once we sell them, use the money to buy land.”

Xiufang froze. “Buy land? Why?”

Following Jiang Ji’s instructions, Zhao Ru explained, “Xiao Ji met a traveling merchant from the south. He can get us new varieties of southern rice seeds—the harvest from those can double. There are also other crops that can be stored and eaten through winter. They’ll be selling the seeds in a few days, and when that happens, anyone with money will rush to buy farmland. Xiao Ji’s going to the yamen tomorrow to buy some—we’re planning to get ten mu.”

Xiufang was stunned. Ten mu of land would cost fifty taels. Zhao Ru wasn’t the type to spend so much unless she was sure it was worth it.

After a pause, Xiufang asked, “What kind of new crops?”

“Hold on, I’ll show you.”

Zhao Ru fetched two things from Jiang Ji—a sweet potato and a corn cob—and handed them to Xiufang. “These. This one’s called a sweet potato, and this one’s corn. Steam them for fifteen minutes—they’re delicious and keep well through winter.”

She pressed the sweet potato and corn into Xiufang’s hands. “Try them tonight, but don’t tell anyone yet.”

Xiufang looked at the unfamiliar foods and nodded. “Alright, I’ll do as you say.”

That evening, Xiufang brought her eldest daughter, Tao’er, to Zhao Ru’s room to learn how to make the garments.

When she went home later, she told her husband everything and steamed the sweet potato and corn. Their family of six each took a bite—and were immediately conquered by the soft, sweet taste of the sweet potato and the crisp sweetness of the corn.

“So good!”

Her husband, Tu Gen, made a prompt decision.

“Starting tomorrow, you and Tao’er stop going to the fields. Focus on making clothes. I’ll handle the farm work and the cooking—you two just sew and make enough to buy land!”

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Jiang Ji quickly asked what had happened.

The three of them walked to a quiet corner, and Zhao Ru explained everything that had taken place.

Jiang Xia said cheerfully, “Mother, it was brother who told me to go find that Madam Qian!”

Zhao Ru looked at her son in surprise. “You told Xia’er that?”

“Mm.” Jiang Ji smiled. “I overheard them talking—sounded like her husband had taken a concubine and was neglecting her. She was anxious about it, so I told Xia’er to give it a try.”

“So that’s why.” Zhao Ru sighed. “No wonder she bought it without hesitation.”

Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia then went off to buy more cloth and silk. Jiang Ji asked his mother for a bit more silver and went to the bookstore to pick out books for Jiang Yan.

He wasn’t sure what Jiang Yan liked to read, so after browsing for a while, he bought a Record of Major Events from Past Dynasties and Travels in the Dasheng Kingdom, which described local customs across the land. Finally, he added The Dasheng Legal Code—he wanted to understand the laws of this dynasty so he’d know what was permissible and what wasn’t.
He also grabbed three elementary reading primers from this era.

After buying the books, Jiang Ji purchased four sets of brush, ink, paper, and inkstone. The village school in the next village would open soon, and he planned to send Jiang Nan, Jiang Bei, and Jiang Xia to study. One extra set would go to Jiang Yan.

With his errands done, Jiang Ji went to find Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia at the fabric store, and together they bought some vegetables to take home.

“Brother, what did you buy?” Jiang Xia asked curiously when she saw the big bundle on his back.

“Books and writing tools for you all.”

“Books?”

Jiang Ji nodded. “We didn’t have the money before, so I couldn’t send you to school. Now that we do, you, Jiang Nan, and Jiang Bei will all go.”

Jiang Xia’s eyes widened. “Me too?”

Jiang Ji turned to her. “Why not? You don’t want to?”

“It’s not that,” Jiang Xia waved her hands, “but I’m a girl—and already thirteen.”

“Thirteen? That’s still young,” Jiang Ji said casually—it was only about middle school age to him.

Jiang Xia: … In two years I’ll be of marriage age.

Zhao Ru smiled gently. “Xia’er, do you want to go?”

Jiang Xia hesitated. “I used to want to.”

“Then go,” Jiang Ji said. “You don’t need to learn poetry or composition—just learn to read and listen to the teacher’s stories. Later you’ll be able to read contracts and documents yourself, so no one can trick you.”

“But spring plowing is coming soon,” Jiang Xia said worriedly. “I should stay and help at home.”

“No need,” said Jiang Ji. “I plan to hire people to do the heavy work. You just focus on studying.”

Jiang Xia looked toward Zhao Ru, who nodded with a warm smile. “If you want to go, then go.”

After thinking for a moment, Jiang Xia clenched her teeth and nodded. “Alright.” Just for two years, she told herself.

When they got home, Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia went to prepare dinner while Jiang Ji took the books and writing tools to his room.

“Jiang Yan, come take a look. I didn’t know what kind of books you like, so I bought a couple at random. You can see if you like them.”

Jiang Yan examined each one, noticing the primers and extra writing sets. “These are for Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei?”

“Yeah, and this set is for you.”

Jiang Yan looked genuinely surprised. “You even bought some for me?”

“Of course. I thought you might get bored. The supplies are cheap ones, but they’ll do for now.”

Jiang Yan picked one up, studied it carefully, and said sincerely, “Thank you.”

Just then, Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei ran in. When they saw all the books on the table, Jiang Bei’s eyes lit up. “Big brother! Mother said we’re going to school—is that true?”

“That’s right. Do you want to go?” Jiang Ji asked.

“Yes!” Jiang Bei said immediately.

“No!” said Jiang Nan.

The brothers stared at each other. Jiang Bei looked shocked. “Jiang Nan, you don’t want to go to school?”

Jiang Nan shook his head. “No way. School’s too tiring! Look at Da Zhu—he has to write big characters even after class. He never gets to play.”

Jiang Bei frowned. “But I want to go.”

“Then go by yourself. I’m not going,” Jiang Nan said stubbornly.

Jiang Ji flicked him on the head. “You’re going whether you want to or not.”

“Ah—?” Jiang Nan pouted. “Big brother, can’t I not go?”

“Nope. If you don’t, no more candy,” Jiang Ji said bluntly.

For the little glutton Jiang Nan, that was the ultimate threat.

Sure enough, as soon as he heard there’d be no sweets, he surrendered. “O-okay then… I’ll go.”

Jiang Yan, watching from the side, couldn’t help but smile. He picked up The Dasheng Legal Code and started reading.

“You’re starting with that one?” Jiang Ji asked in surprise.

“What about it?”

Jiang Ji leaned closer. “I actually bought that for myself. Didn’t expect you’d be interested too.”

Jiang Yan raised a brow. “Why did you want to read it?”

Jiang Ji answered naturally, “We live in this country, so we should understand its laws. Otherwise, what if we accidentally break one?”

Jiang Yan nodded. “That’s what I thought too.”

“Then you read it first. I’ll take it after you’re done.”

Jiang Ji said and headed out.

Jiang Yan watched him leave, then turned back to the table of books and supplies, a faint smile touching his lips.

After lunch, Zhao Ru brewed medicine for Jiang Ji and then went back to sewing with Jiang Xia.

That day’s sixteen taels from sales had given them both huge motivation. The undergarments cost less than one tael to make, so they’d cleared fifteen taels in profit—it was incredible.

They had never imagined silver could be earned so easily.

Though Jiang Ji had never paid much attention to women’s lingerie before, he often passed lingerie stores in his previous life, and the advertisements had left some impression.

“Mother, you can add more variations,” Jiang Ji suggested. “Like lace trims, lotus edges, or little bows. Make one line for everyday wear and another for… well, people like Madam Qian. Those can be a bit bolder.”

Zhao Ru was inspired by the lace idea, but asked in confusion, “What do you mean by bolder?”

In his previous life as a rich young master, Jiang Ji had seen plenty of the world, and with the internet’s influence, he knew roughly what that meant.

With help from the livestream viewers’ comments, he explained, “The everyday ones can be thicker, with padding. But Madam Qian’s type should be thinner, maybe no padding. The lower band doesn’t need two layers, and the straps can be narrower—light and sheer, but not fully see-through. Basically, the goal is… to look alluring.”

Zhao Ru: …

Jiang Xia: …

Both of them blushed crimson. Still, it was a business, and they needed ideas.

“Oh, I see. I’ll try,” Zhao Ru said after a pause.

Once he finished giving advice, Jiang Ji went out—time to carry out his own plan.

He had originally meant to chop a tree, but as soon as he stepped outside, he remembered that there was still a leftover log at home.

He searched around the yard and finally found a piece of timber about a meter long and a foot thick, tucked away in the firewood shed corner. It had been left there years ago by his father after chopping wood.

Jiang Ji was overjoyed—what a lucky find! Just when he thought he’d have to go searching high and low, the perfect piece of wood was right there all along.

He immediately dragged the log out and began sizing it up with an axe.

After a moment, he realized using an axe might split it unevenly, so he ran over to the village head’s house to borrow a saw. Then, using a piece of charcoal, he drew cutting lines on the log.

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei followed him like little shadows. Curious, Jiang Bei asked, “Big brother, what are you doing with that wood?”

“I’m making a wooden trough,” Jiang Ji said.

Jiang Nan tilted his head. “What for?”

“For the toilet.”

Both boys blinked in confusion. Why did going to the toilet need a wooden trough?

Jiang Ji grabbed a plank to use as a straightedge, drew the rest of the lines, and started sawing.

He wasn’t very skilled with the saw—his movements were jerky and uneven. Several times, the blade got stuck in the wood, and it took him a lot of effort to wrench it loose.

Just then, Jiang Yan came out on his way to the latrine. Seeing what Jiang Ji was doing, he walked over and asked, “What are you making?”

“I want to hollow this out into a trough, but I’m not very good with the saw.” Jiang Ji scratched his head. “This blade’s too thin—it keeps getting stuck.”

“Let me try,” Jiang Yan offered.

Jiang Ji looked at him skeptically. “You know how?”

“I don’t know,” Jiang Yan replied calmly. “I’ll try.”

Jiang Ji: …

“Alright, go ahead.”

He handed the saw over, not expecting much. If even I—a modern rich kid—can’t get it right, he thought, there’s no way a pampered noble from ancient times can.

But the next moment, he froze in disbelief.

Jiang Yan planted one foot on the log, gripped the saw firmly, and began cutting—smooth, clean, steady strokes, the blade gliding effortlessly back and forth with a sharp hiss.

Jiang Ji: ?! This made no sense!

“I thought you were a young master from a wealthy family. How do you even know how to saw wood?” he blurted out.

Jiang Yan looked equally puzzled. “I don’t know. It just feels… easy.”

Jiang Ji: …

Expressionless, he muttered, “Careful—don’t saw past that black line.”

Jiang Yan glanced at him, lips curving faintly, then stopped and walked toward the gate.

“Where are you going?” Jiang Ji called.

“To the latrine.”

Jiang Ji: …

Jiang Yan returned shortly after and picked up the saw again, continuing the work.

“Won’t that pull on your wound?” Jiang Ji asked worriedly. “If it tears open, we’ll be in trouble.”

“I’m not using my core muscles,” Jiang Yan replied.

Jiang Ji blinked. So he’s only using his arms? And still has that much strength?

He thought back to himself earlier—he’d been using both arms and core and still struggled.

Is this guy really a noble?

Still, Jiang Ji was happy to have the help.

Once Jiang Yan finished sawing out the four corners, he set the tool down. “The rest can’t be sawed through directly. You’ll need to shave it down with an axe first.”

“Alright, I’ll handle it. You should rest,” Jiang Ji said.

He took up the axe carefully, not daring to swing too hard for fear of splitting the whole thing in two, and began chipping away bit by bit.

Jiang Yan didn’t leave. He brought out a stool and sat nearby, watching quietly as Jiang Ji worked.

Between the chopping, sawing, and chiseling, they labored through the entire afternoon—and finally, with Jiang Yan’s help, Jiang Ji completed the wooden trough.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

The next day, Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia went to town to sell the clothes, and Jiang Ji went along. He planned to check the local prices for seeds, buy a book for Jiang Yan, and look for materials he could use to improve the latrine.

He really couldn’t stand that latrine anymore—but it wasn’t exactly proper for him to keep slipping off to the woods either.

Over the past two days, he had finished organizing the cultivation methods for most of the crops suited to this region. Through this process, he realized why ancient grain yields were so low: first, the seeds themselves were poor and had low germination rates; second, the planting techniques were unscientific; third, pest and disease control was lacking; and fourth, there simply wasn’t enough fertilizer.

Fertilizer was crucial. In this era without chemical fertilizers, all manure was an essential resource—the basic material for composting and enriching the fields.

As the saying went, “Don’t let good fertilizer flow into another’s fields.” Jiang Ji couldn’t let any potential fertilizer go to waste in the woods.

On the road, Zhao Ru was still nervously rehearsing how to negotiate the sale. She had never done anything like this before.

Jiang Ji reassured her, “It’s normal to be nervous, but you don’t need to be afraid. Think about it—we’re going to do business. You and the shopkeeper are equals, just like when you sell vegetables. Treat it that way and you’ll be fine. Or… should I go talk instead?”

Zhao Ru quickly shook her head. “No, no, this is women’s clothing. You’re a young unmarried man—it wouldn’t be proper. I’ll go myself.”

“Alright.”

Jiang Ji went over the talking points with her, and they rehearsed a few times, adjusting her phrasing and tone until it sounded more confident.

“Xiao Ji,” Zhao Ru asked, “how much should we sell each set for?”

Jiang Ji thought about it. “One tael of silver.”

Jiang Xia’s eyes widened. “That expensive? Will anyone buy it?”

“Let’s try,” Jiang Ji shrugged. “If no one bites, we can lower the price. Always leave room for haggling.”

When they reached the town, they split up.

“Mother, are you sure you don’t need me to go with you?”

“No need. You take care of your errands. If your sister and I can’t manage to sell them, then you can step in.”

“Alright.”

Zhao Ru handed him two taels of silver. Jiang Ji headed straight for the market to check the seed prices—he needed that information to set fair prices for the seeds he planned to sell later.

After walking around the market for a while, he recorded everything neatly in his notebook, then headed for the lumber, stone, and brick shops.

He wanted to build a simple flush-style toilet, but since there was no cement here, he considered making a trough from wood or stone instead. If he used wood, it would have to be coated with paint—otherwise, it would rot quickly.

He found a shop that sold paint and asked for the price, only to be stunned.

“What? Two taels of silver for such a small bottle?” Jiang Ji stared wide-eyed at the fist-sized jar. Was this daylight robbery?

“Heh, young man, you clearly don’t know the trade. That’s already the cheap kind. The one over there costs even more,” the shopkeeper replied with a grin.

“How much is that one?”

The shopkeeper raised a hand. “Five taels.”

Jiang Ji: “…”

He put the bottle back down and excused himself politely.

Paint was available in the system’s exchange store too—but it cost ten points.

With spring plowing just around the corner, Jiang Ji didn’t want to waste his points on things he could buy with silver. After all, points could easily be converted into money, but money could never buy points.

He wanted to save them for seeds or other items that this world didn’t have.

He checked two more shops—same prices. Paint here was practically worth its weight in gold.

So he went to the stone merchant. A stone trough wouldn’t need paint, at least.

But stone troughs were expensive too, and having a craftsman carve one to his specifications would take ages.

Feeling the few bits of silver in his sleeve, Jiang Ji thought for a moment, then walked off.

Everything was so expensive!

He hadn’t even started making money yet. Better to just chop down a tree and carve one himself for now. Once he was wealthier and living in a proper house, he could make a better one.

The once-spendthrift Young Master Jiang had now learned thrift.

When he went to buy a book, he happened to run into Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia at the east end of the main street.

“Mother, Xia’er, how did it go?”

Jiang Xia sighed. “We’ve already been to three clothing shops and three fabric stores. No one wanted to buy. They’re all afraid it won’t sell—didn’t even ask the price.”

She couldn’t understand why none of the shopkeepers were interested in such a good thing.

There were only five ready-made clothing shops in the whole town anyway; most people bought fabric to sew their own clothes. Even Zhao Ru herself had never set foot in a clothing shop before—only fabric stores.

Some fabric shops displayed sample garments, but selling cloth remained their main business.

Zhao Ru patted her daughter’s head gently. “It’s alright. There are two more shops left. We’ll keep trying.”

Jiang Ji added, “Right, don’t give up yet.”

He went with them to the fourth clothing shop, but just as he was about to step inside, Zhao Ru stopped him. “Xiao Ji, wait outside.”

After all, it was women’s undergarments—they couldn’t bring a man along.

“Alright.” Jiang Ji stayed outside to wait.

Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia entered. The shop was run by a woman, and even the attendants were all young women. Several female customers were browsing the racks.

Zhao Ru’s eyes brightened. The previous shops had all been run by men, and she’d felt awkward talking to them about such things.

“Please, have a look around,” one of the attendants greeted them with a warm smile. “We’ve just released some new designs—they’re quite lovely.”

Zhao Ru shook her head. “We’re here to speak with the shopkeeper about a business matter.”

The girl blinked, then led them to the counter. “Shopkeeper Sun, this madam would like to discuss a business deal with you.”

Shopkeeper Sun was a woman in her thirties, tallying accounts at the counter. Hearing that, she looked up, surprise flashing briefly across her face before she smiled politely. “Madam, what kind of business did you have in mind?”

Zhao Ru placed the bundle she carried on the counter, untied it, and took out a red undergarment set.

“Please, take a look.”

“This is…?” Shopkeeper Sun didn’t recognize it at first, but once Zhao Ru laid out the brassiere and panties properly, realization struck her.

Undergarments.

She looked up, astonished. “Madam, did you make these yourselves?”

“Yes,” Zhao Ru nodded. “Would you be willing to take them?”

Shopkeeper Sun examined the small garments closely. Even with her experience, a faint blush crept onto her cheeks. “How did you ever think of making something like this? It’s quite bold.”

“It just came to us,” Zhao Ru said vaguely. “So, will you buy them?”

Shopkeeper Sun hesitated. “Madam, I’ll be honest with you—please don’t take offense.”

“Go ahead.”

“They’re very nice, but… they’ll be hard to sell,” she explained. “Such intimate clothing isn’t something women buy in shops. We’ve even tried selling dudou before, but…”

She shook her head—failure.

Zhao Ru bit her lip, unwilling to give up. Since the shopkeeper was also a woman, she decided to take a chance. “Shopkeeper, I’m actually wearing one of the brassieres right now. How about I take off my coat and show you?”

Shopkeeper Sun, curious about how it looked when worn, agreed. “Alright, come with me.”

“Okay.” Zhao Ru turned to Jiang Xia. “Xia’er, wait here.”

Jiang Xia nodded, and Zhao Ru followed the shopkeeper into the back room.

Outside, Jiang Ji was looking at a small stall near the clothing shop—it sold hair ornaments. As he browsed, two women passed by talking quietly. One was dressed in elegant lake-green silk; the other was her plainly dressed matron.

“Madam, you’re too soft-hearted. That little vixen keeps taking advantage of you, bewitching the master till he’s lost his wits—he hardly remembers who you are.”

“What can I do? He only visits me once a month.”

“Ah, you stick too much to propriety, madam. This won’t do. The master’s here today, isn’t he? Say some sweet words—flatter him a little.”

“I’ve tried. He’s completely enchanted by that fox.”

Jiang Ji: …

Watching them enter the clothing shop, he leaned over and whispered a few words to Jiang Xia.

“Got it?”

Jiang Xia widened her eyes as she watched the two women who had just passed, then nodded firmly and turned back into the clothing shop. She walked straight over to the lady in the lake-green gown.

Taking a deep breath, she whispered, “Madam, I have… something you might need—something that can help you keep your husband’s heart firmly in your hands.”

The woman looked at the young girl in surprise, a hint of irritation flashing across her face. “You little thing, what nonsense are you talking about at your age?”

Jiang Xia ignored her tone, keeping her gaze steady. “It’s right here at the counter. It’s clothing. Come take a look and you’ll see.”

“Clothing?” The lady blinked, puzzled—she had thought the girl was trying to sell something improper.

“Yes, clothing.” Jiang Xia gestured for her to follow. “Please, this way.”

The lady exchanged a glance with her maidservant. The maid said quietly, “No harm in taking a look.”

The two walked to the counter. Jiang Xia untied the bundle and took out one of the small garments.

“This is clothing?” Both women stared at it in confusion.

Jiang Xia simply held up one of the bras and gestured over her chest. “A brassiere.”

The two women were stunned. It only took a moment for them to imagine how it would look when worn. The lady blinked, her cheeks reddening. “Little girl… you made this?”

“My mother and I made it,” Jiang Xia said.

Just then, Zhao Ru and Shopkeeper Sun came out from the back room. Jiang Xia pointed to Zhao Ru. “That’s my mother.”

Shopkeeper Sun noticed the lady in green and exclaimed, “Madam Qian! You’re here to browse?”

Madam Qian nodded, then discreetly picked up one of the brassieres and asked in a low voice, “Shopkeeper, is this something your store sells?”

Shopkeeper Sun glanced at Zhao Ru and gave her a quick wink before replying, “Yes, we just received these.”

Zhao Ru said nothing. Earlier, Shopkeeper Sun had seen the effect when Zhao Ru tried one on. Though she’d said the shop wouldn’t stock them, she personally wanted to buy a set and had asked the price. Zhao Ru had quoted one tael per set.

Shopkeeper Sun asked Madam Qian, “Is Madam interested in purchasing?”

Madam Qian exchanged another look with her maid. The maid gave a small nod. After a moment’s hesitation, Madam Qian bit her lip and decided.

“I’ll take it.”

Zhao Ru’s heart leapt with joy. Then Madam Qian asked, “How much for one set?”

Zhao Ru looked to Shopkeeper Sun—who calmly held up three fingers. “Three taels.”

Zhao Ru’s eyelid twitched, but she said nothing. She only felt Jiang Xia clutching at her sleeve, so she reached back to pat her hand reassuringly.

“I’ll take two sets,” Madam Qian said without hesitation, signaling her maid to pay. “Do you have any that will fit me?”

Shopkeeper Sun smiled. “You can try them on. We have different sizes and colors. Madam may go to the back room and see which suits best.”

“Then I shall.”

They went inside to try on the garments and returned a short while later. Madam Qian left the shop satisfied, carrying her new purchases.

Once she was gone, Shopkeeper Sun invited Zhao Ru to the back room.

She already knew a bit about Madam Qian’s family situation, and seeing how decisively she had bought the garments sparked an idea in her mind.

“Madam,” said Shopkeeper Sun, “I’ll buy the remaining six sets. Two taels per set. How does that sound?”

Zhao Ru blinked in surprise. She had only asked one tael before. “Shopkeeper, you…”

Shopkeeper Sun seemed to know what she meant. She patted Zhao Ru’s hand and said warmly, “Of course, I have a condition.”

“Please, speak.”

“From now on, any undergarments you make must be supplied exclusively to me,” she said briskly. “If you come up with new styles, even better. Oh, and if you can make a batch with silk, I’ll pay three taels a set. What do you think?”

Zhao Ru hesitated, a little worried. “You’re giving me that much—won’t you barely make a profit?”

Shopkeeper Sun laughed. “You’re an honest woman, so I’ll be honest too. Three taels is the top price here in this county. But our company has branches in the prefectural and provincial capitals. They’ll sell even better there, for much higher prices.”

Zhao Ru understood but still cautioned her, “Once word spreads, others will copy the design soon.”

Shopkeeper Sun chuckled. “That’s fine. We’ll make as much as we can before that happens. And we can always keep creating new designs.”

Once the market opened, competition and innovation would naturally follow.

Seeing the shopkeeper already had a plan in mind, Zhao Ru relaxed. “Then we’ll bring them over as soon as we finish another batch?”

“Yes. Start with the silk ones first.”

Zhao Ru nodded quickly. “Alright.”

“Then it’s settled,” said Shopkeeper Sun, pleased.

After settling the payment, Zhao Ru left the shop with Jiang Xia, happily clutching sixteen taels of silver.

Seeing the smiles on their faces, Jiang Ji knew at once that they had sold everything.

“Mother, how much did you make?”

“We sold it all—sixteen taels in total! And they’ll keep buying whatever we make next!” Jiang Xia said excitedly.

Jiang Ji blinked in surprise. That was double the price he had suggested to his mother!

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