Author Archives: Thandar

That day, Magistrate Xu came to see Jiang Ji, beaming as he said, “Brother Jiang Ji, the water pumps you asked for have been finished and delivered!”

Jiang Ji was pleasantly surprised. “They’re done?”

“They are! The craftsmen first made a smaller version to test—it worked perfectly. Then they made two full-sized ones for you.” Magistrate Xu pointed to the mule carts behind him. “There, take a look.”

Jiang Ji ran to the back and indeed saw two mule carts, each carrying a wooden Archimedean screw-style water pump. The lower ends were made of iron poles to prevent the wood from rotting too quickly when left in water.

Behind them were two large stones, each with a deep, slanted hole in the middle—meant to fix the pumps securely.

Magistrate Xu asked, “These two are made according to your measurements. Do you want them installed here at your place?”

Jiang Ji asked back, “Sir, are you in a hurry to leave?”

“No, not at all.”

“Then would you like to see us install them?”

“Sure.”

“Please, you and the guards go inside and rest a bit. I’ll go fetch the village chief.” Jiang Ji turned to Jiang Yan. “Jiang Yan, keep the official company.”

Then Jiang Ji hurried off to the village chief’s house. The chief was out watering the fields, on the high patch of newly reclaimed land where they had planted sweet potatoes and corn.

“Village Chief!” Jiang Ji shouted. “Stop watering for now—come with me, I’ve got something important!”

“What’s going on?” the chief asked, walking out.

“Good news! Gather five or six able-bodied men and come to my place. The official had a water pump made for us—let’s get it installed quickly. Once it’s ready, we won’t have to carry water up from below anymore. We might even be able to flood the fields directly.”

The village chief was shocked. “Really?”

“Yes,” Jiang Ji said, glancing at the people still watering nearby. “Let’s call them too.”

The chief trusted Jiang Ji completely now. Putting down his water ladle, he shouted, “Qiangzi, Daguei, Xiao’an—everyone here, stop watering! Come with me to Jiang Ji’s place!”

Qiangzi asked, “What’s up, Uncle?”

“Something good. Just come—you’ll see when we get there.”

On the way, Jiang Ji explained the plan. Qiangzi was skeptical. “Really? That stream is more than three meters lower. Translated on Hololo novels. Even a waterwheel doesn’t work well. You think this thing can lift water that high?”

Jiang Ji said mysteriously, “You’ll see soon enough, Brother Qiang.”

When they arrived at his house and saw the coiled, wooden contraption at the gate, the men circled around it curiously.

“This is it?”

“This thing can lift water? I don’t buy it.”

“You’ll know once it’s installed,” Jiang Ji said, calling toward the house, “Sir, we’re taking the carts over now!”

“I’ll come take a look too,” said Magistrate Xu as he stepped out, Jiang Yan following behind.

Everyone was intrigued by the strange device. More villagers gathered after hearing it could raise water uphill.

“Village Chief,” Jiang Ji said, “take the big one to the reclaimed field. Someone come with me to fetch wooden stakes and rope. Qiangzi, you and your group bring hoes and shovels. Oh—and machetes, ladders, carrying poles, and thick ropes—we’ll need them to move the big stones and the pump.”

“Got it.”

The group divided tasks efficiently and soon gathered at the edge of the reclaimed field.

This field was at the base of the mountain’s far side. A small mountain stream ran below, about three meters wide with shallow water but steep banks, sitting roughly three meters below the reclaimed land. Before, they had dug a dirt path with steps down to fetch water manually—a tiring chore.

The large pump had been built to match the height of this upper field. Using the slope, it would lift water directly up to the surface, eliminating the need to carry buckets.

Once the placement was chosen, Jiang Ji and several young men carried the pump to the stream. They tied one end with rope while the men above lifted and steadied it upright.

“Alright, the height’s perfect—this is the spot. Lift it aside for now. Village Chief, clear out that patch of thorn bushes, just cut them down. Leave the grass though—it’ll help prevent landslides. Qiangzi and I will bring over the stones.”

“Got it.”

While the chief led people to clear the thorny brush, Jiang Ji and the younger men carried over the large stones for anchoring.

The stream wasn’t deep enough, so they dug a pit on the opposite bank to set the stones securely, using the slope for extra support.

They built a small water pit and hammered wooden stakes into the higher ground above to make a frame for the top of the pump.

After all the prep work was done, Jiang Ji inspected everything, then shouted, “Alright, bring the pump over!”

Working together, they carried the heavy pump over and set its lower end into the stone groove. Half of the pump sat underwater, while the top rested on the wooden frame above.

“Okay!” Jiang Ji shouted up. “Village Chief, give it a try! Turn the handle to the right—keep turning, don’t stop!”

Everyone watched intently—including Magistrate Xu and Jiang Yan.

The chief gripped the wooden handle and began rotating it.

“Can this really draw water up?”

“The trough isn’t even sealed—it doesn’t look like it’ll work.”

“Probably won’t lift much.”

Jiang Ji and Qiangzi were down below watching. As the wooden screw turned, water began to rise little by little.

Qiangzi’s eyes widened. “!”

“Wait—it’s actually coming up?” another man exclaimed.

Moments later, gasps erupted from above. They could see water suddenly gushing out from the top of the trough—and it kept flowing, steady and strong.

“My heavens, it’s bringing up water!”

“Is it really working?”

“How’s that possible? How did the water come up?!”

“How does turning that thing lift the water?”

“This is incredible!”

Magistrate Xu had already seen the small version once before, but watching this full-sized one in action still filled him with awe. “Truly unbelievable.”

Jiang Yan stared at the pump, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Down below, Jiang Ji noticed that the stone base was still wobbling a little as the village chief turned the handle. He said to Qiangzi, “Brother Qiang, we’ll need a couple more big stones to stabilize it.”

“Got it, I’ll get some.”

Qiangzi led a few men upstream and fetched two large stones, placing them beside the original one for reinforcement.

Jiang Ji saw the base stop shaking and snapped his fingers with satisfaction. “OK, done!”

Qiangzi and the others blinked in confusion. “What did you just say?”

Jiang Yan also looked over, wondering what strange words he’d used this time.

Jiang Ji laughed. “Nothing—just means it’s finished. Let’s go up.”

Above, everyone was still marveling at the “water pump,” all of them delighted.

“No more hauling water now!”

“Should we put a big jar here to collect it?”

“Better to build a trough—then we can channel the water directly.”

“Good idea, we could even dig a small basin right here.”

“Village Chief, can I try turning it?”

The chief laughed happily. “Go ahead.”

The man took over and began cranking. As he watched the water slowly rise, his eyes lit up in amazement.

Many people tried it in turn, including Jiang Ji and his team once they climbed up.

Qiangzi turned the handle excitedly. “Who came up with this? That’s some genius thinking!”

Magistrate Xu stroked his beard and smiled. “It was Jiang Ji’s idea.”

The villagers were shocked.

“Jiang Ji?”

“What? Jiang Ji, you thought of this?”

Everyone turned to stare at him. Jiang Ji blinked and said, “Not me—I heard it from a traveling merchant from the south. He said it was invented by someone named Archimedes, so this kind of pump is called an Archimedean screw water pump.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

“Archi… what?” the crowd echoed blankly.

“Archimedes,” Jiang Ji explained. “It’s probably a foreigner’s name.”

“A foreigner?”

“Must be. Only foreigners have such strange names.”

They murmured among themselves for a while before Jiang Ji said, “Doesn’t matter whether he’s a foreigner or not—what matters is that it works. Now, let’s go install the other one. The western fields are hard to water too, so I plan to put it there.”

“Alright, that spot then,” said the village chief, waving his hand. “Let’s move.”

The group picked up their tools again and went to the west side, installing the second pump.

Once it was set up, watering the fields became far easier. The whole village was overjoyed, and nearly everyone came to try it out.

Back home, Zhao Ru had already prepared the meal. Magistrate Xu stayed to eat with them.

Jiang Ji asked, “Sir, how’s the threshing machine coming along?”

“It’s more than halfway done. Should be finished in about a week,” said Magistrate Xu.

Jiang Ji’s eyes lit up. “Sir, don’t forget my two units.”

“I know, yours are first,” Magistrate Xu laughed. “We’ve brought in several carpenters, and they’ve also built the rice-drying racks. They turned out quite good, so we’ve already distributed the blueprints to all the villages. Oh, and the winnowing machine is nearly done too—we’ll deliver it to you once it’s ready.”

“Perfect,” Jiang Ji said with excitement. “As long as it’s here before the rice harvest.”

After the meal, Jiang Ji asked, “Why didn’t Lord Chen come this time?”

“He went to inspect the other counties—wanted to check their crop growth.”

“Oh, that’s a lot of traveling. Must be tiring.”

Magistrate Xu later went to check the fields again. The rice had entered the tillering stage—each seedling that once stood alone now had several lush stalks clustered together.

The little fish and ducklings had grown, swimming leisurely through the paddies. Occasionally, a bird would swoop down, only to be scared off again by the spinning scarecrows turning in the breeze.

By this point, the difference between the fields with ducks and fish and those without was becoming visible.

Jiang Ji’s paddies had almost no weeds, while the others were overgrown.

“There really are far fewer weeds here,” Magistrate Xu observed.

“Mm. Give it a little more time and the difference will be even clearer.”

“Have any of the fish been eaten by birds?” Magistrate Xu asked curiously.

Jiang Ji nodded. “Some, inevitably. Unless we put nets over the fields. Once the rice grows taller and blocks their view, it’ll be fine.”

After another look around, Magistrate Xu left.

Not long after he was gone, Uncle Tu Gen came over. He had been weeding his watermelon patch nearby and, glancing at Jiang Ji’s field, asked, “Xiao Ji, is it too late for us to release ducks now?”

“Huh?” Jiang Ji was surprised. “Uncle, didn’t you say you weren’t going to for the first rice crop?”

Uncle Tu Gen said, “That’s what I thought before—but look at your field. There’s definitely less grass, and your rice looks healthier than ours. Is it still possible to start now?”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. “You could, but if you want to set up nets and such, it’ll take a few days. I had mine made in advance, along with the stakes and water ponds. At this point, the weeds are already quite tall, so the ducks won’t clear them as effectively—but it’ll still help fertilize the field. It’s up to you. If you do buy ducks, get slightly older ones. The little ones can’t peck through this tall grass anymore.”

Uncle Tu Gen nodded. “I’ll go back and discuss it with your aunt.”

The next day, Uncle Tu Gen came to ask Jiang Ji who had made his nets.

“You’ve decided to raise ducks?”

“Yes, we’ll try it with one field first.”

After getting his answer, Uncle Tu Gen hurried off. Later, when Jiang Ji went to the fields, he saw Aunt Xiufang and their eldest son, Xiao An, digging a pond at the edge of their paddy.

Three days later, Uncle Tu Gen’s family had fenced off a field and bought ducks to release into it.

Some villagers were puzzled. “Isn’t it too early or too late for that? Will it even work now?”

Aunt Xiufang replied, “Doesn’t matter. We’ll give it a try. Look at Jiang Ji’s field—his rice is taller than ours, and there are barely any weeds. It must be helping. We’ll just raise ducks on this one mu to start and learn from it.”

After some time, as the rice entered the late tillering stage, the differences among the fields became even clearer.

Jiang Ji’s field still had almost no weeds—just a few stubborn ones that ducks and fish didn’t like to eat, easy to pull by hand.

Most importantly, his rice plants had more tillers and grew slightly taller than everyone else’s.

Each clump looked lush and vibrant—a beautiful sight.

The field where Uncle Tu Gen had released ducks also showed results, especially in weed control. Compared to fields without ducks, the water plants were much shorter, pecked down by the ducks.

Now there were three kinds of fields for comparison: those that had ducks and fish from the start, those that added ducks later, and those without any animals at all.

When Lord Chen returned from his inspection tour, he came to record these results carefully.

Upon seeing the watermelon patch, he exclaimed in surprise, “They’re already blooming!”

“Yes, some have even started to bear fruit.” Jiang Ji squatted down and pointed at a plant. “Look, sir—this green one here is a baby watermelon.”

Lord Chen looked closely at the small green fruit, its surface patterned with darker stripes. “Oh, so that’s how they look.”

“Mm. Later, they can grow this big.” Jiang Ji demonstrated with his hands.

“That large?!” Lord Chen marveled. “These melons really grow fast.”

Then he looked up and saw Jiang Yan not far away, picking a flower and brushing it against another. “What’s Jiang Yan doing?”

“Hand pollination. Look, sir.” Jiang Ji plucked a flower beside him. “This one’s the male flower, this one’s female—you just brush them together like this.”

“Oh, every flower needs that? Aren’t there bees?” Lord Chen noticed Zhao Ru and Jiang Yan doing the same thing nearby. “Isn’t that a lot of work?”

“It ensures successful pollination. There aren’t that many bees, and they miss some flowers. This increases the yield,” Jiang Ji explained. Then he added, “But later, if too many fruits set, we’ll have to remove some.”

Lord Chen felt like he had learned something new and even tried it himself.

The two of them squatted among the melon vines, pollinating the flowers, when Chen asked, “I heard your restaurant is opening soon?”

“Almost ready—probably another half a month or so.”

Lord Chen smiled. “With all this going on, how do you manage to keep up?”

“It’s fine. I hire help for weeding, watering, and fertilizing. Otherwise, our family couldn’t handle it all.” Jiang Ji looked up at him. “When our restaurant opens, you must come support us, sir.”

“Of course. I’ll be there.”

*

The renovation of Jiang Ji’s restaurant was nearly complete, and staff training had begun.

He left the farm work to Zhao Ru and went to the city to discuss hiring with Manager Lü. Aside from the head manager and kitchen staff, they still needed to recruit everyone else.

After posting the hiring notices, Jiang Ji asked Manager Lü if he had any recommendations.

It would be best to find experienced waiters to lead the new ones. Since Manager Lü had managed this restaurant before, he likely had some contacts.

Manager Lü thought for a moment. “Would the owner mind hiring some of the old staff who used to work here?”

“I don’t mind,” Jiang Ji said. “As long as they’re capable and have good character.”

“Then I do have someone in mind,” Manager Lü said. “His name is Shi Xiaoshan. He used to be a waiter here—very clever and with an excellent memory. When the old place shut down, everyone was let go, and he went home to help his mother sell vegetables.”

“Would he be willing to come back?”

“I’ll contact him and arrange for you to meet.”

“Sounds good.”

Then Manager Lü remembered something. “By the way, quite a few people have been asking about our restaurant—when we’re opening, and who the new owner is.”

“Oh?” Jiang Ji raised an eyebrow. “Competitors?”

Manager Lü nodded. “Even someone from Xiang Man Lou came by—I know one of their waiters.”

“That’s normal. I’d ask too if I were them.” Jiang Ji thought of Master Tian from the Tian household and asked, “Did you tell them?”

“Yes. You said once hiring began, there was no need to keep it secret anymore, so I did.”

“Good. They’d find out sooner or later anyway.”

*

Across the street, the manager of Xiang Man Lou reported to Master Tian, “Sir, that new restaurant has started hiring.”

Master Tian, who was reviewing accounts, raised his brows. “Oh? That soon?”

“Yes, and they’re hiring quite a few people.”

“Tell me the details.”

“They’re taking twelve waiters, three food runners, two dishwashers, two cleaners, one greeter, and one head waiter…”

“Wait,” Master Tian interrupted, frowning. “What’s a ‘head waiter’ supposed to be?”

The manager hesitated. “Maybe… a supervisor?”

Master Tian waved his hand. “Go on.”

“Yes, and they’re also hiring someone to manage the carriages and stables.”

Master Tian frowned slightly. “With that many staff for a place that size, they’re clearly planning for a full house.”

The manager nodded. “Yes.”

“What’s their monthly pay?”

The manager replied, “Waiters get one tael of silver a month. Dishwashers, cleaners, and stable hands get eight hundred copper coins. The greeter earns nine hundred, and the head waiter earns one tael and two maces.”

Master Tian raised his eyebrows. “That high?”

“Yes, it’s a bit higher than ours.”

“They didn’t hire a head chef or kitchen assistants?”

The manager shook his head. “No.”

Master Tian thought for a moment. “That means they already have a chef and apprentices. Any way to find out who the chef is?”

“No, nothing’s been heard,” the manager said, shaking his head. Then he added, “Sir, I heard this place is owned by that Jiang Ji—the information slipped out from that Manager Lü today.”

“Him?” Master Tian’s brows furrowed immediately. “If it’s him, that complicates things.”

Seeing his expression, the manager cautiously asked, “Sir, should we try to find out more about their head chef?”

Master Tian considered, then shook his head. “No, let’s wait and see how their opening goes. If their chef isn’t good enough, the place will fail on its own. Prepare a congratulatory gift—I’ll visit in person on their opening day.”

“Yes, sir.”

*

In the village, Jiang Ji told everyone that the restaurant was hiring and explained the available positions, basic requirements, and approximate pay. Anyone interested could come to the interviews in two days.

Word spread quickly. Every household was talking about it—waiters would earn a full tael of silver per month, so anyone who fit the criteria wanted to try.

Even Aunt Xiufang was tempted. “Maybe I should try too? I could wash dishes or help clean—it’s eight hundred coins a month.”

Uncle Tu Gen gave her a sideways look. “You want to do everything.”

Aunt Xiufang slapped his arm. “Who doesn’t want to earn money?”

Uncle Tu Gen said, “That job’s all day long for just eight hundred coins. You’d be better off making a few pieces of clothing in your spare time. What’s the point?”

Aunt Xiufang thought for a bit. “That’s true. Then Xiao An should go. He could work as a waiter.”

Xiao An nodded. “I’ll go.”

On the day of the interviews, Jiang Ji dragged Jiang Yan along, saying he wasn’t good at judging people and needed Jiang Yan’s help.

When they arrived, a long line had already formed outside the restaurant.

“Whoa, so many people?” Jiang Ji said as they entered with Jiang Yan. “Looks like our place really is attractive.”

Manager Lü chuckled. “Sir, you’re paying better than most.”

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan sat behind the table. Jiang Ji smiled. “Alright, let’s get started. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go home. Manager Lü, you lead the questioning.”

Manager Lü nodded and called the first person in.

The first candidate was the one he’d recommended earlier—the waiter named Shi Xiaoshan.

As soon as he entered, Shi Xiaoshan bowed politely and introduced himself with a smile. “Good day, sir, good day, manager. I’m Shi Xiaoshan, twenty years old. I’ve worked as a waiter for three years and would like to apply for the same position.”

Jiang Ji glanced at the young man before him—slim but lively, with a cheerful expression and quick, intelligent eyes.

Introducing himself first—definitely confident and sociable.

The manager said, “Sir, this is Shi Xiaoshan. You can ask the questions.”

“Alright,” said Jiang Ji, thinking for a moment. “Did you come early today?”

Shi Xiaoshan hadn’t expected that question, but quickly smiled and answered, “Yes, sir. The manager told me yesterday the restaurant was hiring and that you didn’t mind taking on previous staff, so I came right away. I’ve got three years of experience.”

Jiang Ji asked, “What do you think is most important in being a waiter?”

Shi Xiaoshan replied, “First, you have to be friendly—always greet guests with a smile. Second, you need a good memory—remember the dishes we serve so you can introduce them to customers, and remember what each guest orders so they don’t have to repeat themselves. It helps to remember what regulars like to order, too. A sharp memory is key. Third, you need to be observant—eyes and ears open, ready to respond quickly so guests feel comfortable and want to return.”

Jiang Ji almost laughed. This really was an experienced server with genuine professionalism.

He looked at Jiang Yan, who then asked, “How many people in your household? What do they do? Any debts at home?”

Jiang Ji blinked in surprise. That sounded more like a census. If it were him being interviewed, he’d have walked out.

But Shi Xiaoshan didn’t mind at all and answered readily. “There are six of us—my grandmother, parents, my wife, our daughter, and me. My grandmother’s elderly and helps at home taking care of the child. My parents sell vegetables in the west of the city. My wife takes care of our child and grandmother at home. We don’t owe any debts.”

Jiang Yan nodded. “Alright, I’m done.”

Jiang Ji cleared his throat. “Okay, register with the manager and wait to hear back.”

Shi Xiaoshan nodded, signed his name, and left.

After he was gone, Jiang Ji turned to Jiang Yan. “Why did you ask all that about his family? That’s like a census! Isn’t that a bit much?”

Jiang Yan looked at him seriously. “If you don’t find out clearly, what if someone in his family’s a drunkard or a gambler? If they owe money, he could be easily bribed or coerced.”

Jiang Ji paused. “…That actually makes sense.”

“Alright then, we’ll ask from now on.” He scratched his head, then frowned. “But what if someone lies?”

“People who lie usually give themselves away,” Jiang Yan said. He glanced at him and added quietly, “For example, when you lie, your eyes tend to look to the right.”

Jiang Ji rubbed his nose. “Huh? Do I really do that?”

Jiang Yan watched him touch his nose, the corners of his lips curling slightly. “Yeah, that’s a pretty obvious guilty tell.”

“Oh, fine. Then you ask the questions next time.”

The two of them worked together with Manager Lü, interviewing one candidate after another. They even met quite a few young men from their own village—most applying for waiter positions.

After two full days of interviews, nearly two hundred people had been screened. They narrowed it down twice before finalizing the hires. Shi Xiaoshan and Aunt Xiufang’s son, Xiao An, both got the job.

Once everyone had been gathered, Jiang Ji had them sign employment contracts, then immediately began organizing training.

Although Jiang Ji had never personally worked in the restaurant business, he’d experienced plenty of service himself. Drawing on modern service standards and combining them with the customs of this era, he and Manager Lü established their own set of restaurant service guidelines.

They trained everyone on how to greet customers, take orders, and serve dishes, as well as kitchen cleanliness standards and procedures for handling unexpected situations.

Jiang Ji also had Han Qingshan’s team prepare every dish from the menu so the staff could taste each one, memorize the flavors and features, and be able to describe them fluently to guests.

After everyone became proficient and passed their evaluations, Shi Xiaoshan proved to be the best performer, so Jiang Ji appointed him as head waiter.

Once the restaurant’s renovation was complete—tables, chairs, kitchenware, and all supplies in place, and the staff fully trained—Jiang Ji’s restaurant was finally ready to open its doors for business.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

On the day the academy was on break, Jiang Ji took his whole family into town to see the newly purchased shop and house—to recognize the place and also to let Han Qingshan and the others meet his family.

Zhao Ru and the rest had all specially put on new clothes, their faces full of joy and excitement.

They first went to look at the shop. It was under renovation, so they just stood at the entrance to see the storefront before heading to the new house.

At the main gate, Han Qingshan was already standing to the side with Yu Yang and the others, waiting to welcome them. A plaque hung over the gate, covered with a red silk cloth, and strings of firecrackers were set on both sides.

“Mother, this is the place,” Jiang Ji said, stopping with his family.

Zhao Ru looked at the grand gate, smiling brightly. “It’s wonderful.”

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei both looked around curiously.

Han Qingshan came forward. “Young Master, everything is ready.”

“Good.” Jiang Ji smiled and introduced everyone, “Mother, Xia’er, Jiang Nan, Jiang Bei—this is Han Qingshan, our steward. This is his apprentice Yu Yang, and this is Guihua…”

He introduced them one by one, then turned to introduce his family to Han Qingshan’s group.

Han Qingshan led all the servants to greet their masters.

“Good day, Madam.”

“Good day, Eldest Young Master.” “Good day, Second Young Master.”

“Good day, Young Lady.”

“Good day, Third Young Master.”

“Good day, Fourth Young Master.”

Zhao Ru and the others froze for a moment. They weren’t used to being addressed like that.

Jiang Xia held onto Zhao Ru’s arm, a little embarrassed.

Jiang Nan grinned at Jiang Bei and said, “I’m the Third Young Master.”

Jiang Bei pressed his lips together in a smile. “I’m the Fourth Young Master.”

(T/N: ML is the eldest young master).

The two boys looked at each other and burst out laughing, and Jiang Ji couldn’t help laughing and shaking his head.

Han Qingshan asked, “Young Master, shall we begin?”

“Alright.” Jiang Ji nodded, then turned to Zhao Ru. “Mother, you unveil the plaque.”

“Me?” Zhao Ru waved her hands. “No, no, you and Jiang Yan should do it.”

In her understanding, such matters should be done by the men of the family.

“You must do it,” Jiang Ji said, pulling Zhao Ru forward.

Zhao Ru looked nervous. “Xiao Ji, isn’t that improper?”

“There’s nothing improper about it. You’re the elder of this family—it’s only right for you to do it.”

Still worried, Zhao Ru was led by the arm as Jiang Ji said, “Then we’ll do it together.”

Seeing how insistent he was, Zhao Ru finally nodded. “Alright.”

Mother and son each held one end of the red silk cloth and pulled gently. Translated on Hololo novels. The cloth slid down smoothly, revealing the plaque over the gate with the characters “Jiang Residence.”

The characters were written by Jiang Yan—bold, powerful, and elegant. Even the craftsman who carved the plaque had praised them repeatedly.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Firecrackers went off on both sides. Everyone turned their heads, faces glowing with wide smiles.

When the fireworks ended, Jiang Ji waved his hand. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

He linked arms with Zhao Ru as they entered the courtyard and showed everyone around.

“What do you think? Not bad, right?”

Zhao Ru nodded. “Good—very good.”

Jiang Nan was already choosing rooms. “Brother, where do I stay?”

“The main building’s two rooms are for Mother and Xia’er. You can choose whichever room you like in the east or west wing.”

“Really?”

“Really. Pick whichever you want.”

Jiang Nan cheered. “Jiang Bei, come on, let’s pick our rooms!”

The two of them ran off. Jiang Bei asked, “Should we live on the same side?”

“Do you want to live near Big Brother?” Jiang Nan countered.

Jiang Bei thought for a bit. “Then let’s stay on the same side.”

Jiang Ji overheard and couldn’t help laughing to himself. Oh, so now they dislike living near me? I didn’t want to live near you either.

After touring the whole place, they gathered in the main hall to rest.

Han Qingshan had tea and snacks brought out. Jiang Ji said, “Uncle Han, I’ll cook later. Have them wash the vegetables first and set them aside. I’ll come back to start prepping.”

By now Han Qingshan understood Jiang Ji’s personality well and simply nodded. “Yes, sir.”

After a while, Jiang Ji went to the kitchen, and Zhao Ru followed with the others.

“Oh, this kitchen is spacious—so convenient,” Zhao Ru said with a smile as she washed her hands. Used to doing housework, she rolled up her sleeves, grabbed a knife, and was about to start chopping vegetables.

Han Qingshan and the others quickly stopped her. “Madam, please rest—we’ll do it.”

Zhao Ru stared blankly as they took the knife from her hand. “Let me do it.”

Jiang Ji smiled. “Mother, just relax. They’re practicing their cooking—let them handle it.”

“Yes, yes, Madam, we’re learning to cook. Please let us do it,” Ding Xiaojun said cheerfully.

Jiang Ji pointed out a few people currently training in knife skills and told them how he wanted the vegetables cut, while Han Qingshan stood by giving instructions.

Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia looked at each other helplessly and could only stand aside to watch.

Jiang Ji didn’t cut anything himself; the prep work was done by Han Qingshan’s group under his supervision, and he took charge of the actual cooking.

Today marked a small, formal housewarming, and the dishes were plentiful—all prearranged by Jiang Ji.

He cooked ten dishes in total, symbolizing perfection in every way.

Braised lion’s head meatballs, spicy diced chicken, stir-fried lamb, duck with young ginger, braised pork trotters, diced rabbit, squirrel-shaped mandarin fish, poached shrimp, glutinous rice ribs, stir-fried seasonal vegetables, plus a soup of corn, carrots, and pork ribs.

He didn’t make any of the dishes Han Qingshan’s group had been learning lately. Since they’d been practicing their cooking every day and eating their own trial dishes, they were probably sick of those flavors by now.

These new dishes, Jiang Ji cooked with practiced skill while explaining his process. Han Qingshan and the others stood by watching and learning; Han Qingshan, especially, paid close attention.

Before long, Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei came in too. The kitchen was full of people, all watching Jiang Ji cook—even Jiang Yan was standing nearby. Luckily, the kitchen was large enough for everyone to fit.

“Wow, it smells so good!” Jiang Nan stood beside his mother, sniffing with his little nose, practically drooling.

Jiang Bei tugged on Jiang Nan’s arm. “We haven’t eaten those dishes before.”

Jiang Nan nodded. “We’ll try them later. Big Brother made them—they’ll definitely be good.”

“Yeah.”

Han Qingshan overheard the boys and felt curious. So these dishes were ones even the young masters hadn’t eaten before?

How did the young master come up with so many new recipes?

When the food was ready, they set up two tables—Han Qingshan’s group at one, and Jiang Ji’s family at the other.

The new dishes were all visually appealing, fragrant, and flavorful, and everyone couldn’t stop eating.

“Heavens, I’ve never eaten food this good. The diced chicken smells amazing!”

“This fish looks beautiful and tastes even better. I didn’t know a sweet-and-sour fish could be so delicious!”

“Steaming glutinous rice together with ribs—the rice soaks up the pork fat, and the ribs turn even more tender. How did the young master think of combining them like that?”

Jiang Nan shouted, “Brother, I want another lion’s head meatball! Let’s eat them again tonight—you didn’t make enough!”

“Alright. Want some shrimp? I’ll peel them for you.”

“Yes!”

Zhao Ru smiled as she looked at the full table. “Are these dishes going on the restaurant’s menu?”

“Yes, all of them,” Jiang Ji nodded. “We’ll probably need to prepare at least twenty or thirty dishes.”

Zhao Ru glanced at Han Qingshan’s group. “That many? Can they learn them all in two months?”

Jiang Ji had already planned. “If there’s not enough time, we’ll split them into two groups—start with what they’ve mastered, and add more later.”

Jiang Nan was eager. “When I grow up, I’ll learn too. Then I can eat tasty food every day.”

Jiang Ji raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say you wanted to be a shopkeeper when you grow up?”

“Can’t a shopkeeper learn cooking too?” Jiang Nan asked in confusion.

“Sure, but I’m just afraid you won’t want to learn later.”

Jiang Nan replied confidently, “No, I will. I’ll learn.”

Jiang Bei said, “Go ahead and learn, then you can cook for me.”

Jiang Nan widened his eyes. “You’re not going to learn yourself?”

“I’m going to study,” Jiang Bei reminded him seriously. “I won’t have time.”

Jiang Nan thought about it, sighed, and said, “Alright then.”

Everyone, including Zhao Ru, couldn’t help laughing.

The meal was full of laughter and chatter—everyone was in high spirits.

Jiang Ji noticed that ever since Xiang’er had been brought back, Han Qingshan and Yu Yang both seemed much more cheerful, which reassured him.

After lunch, they rested for a bit before Zhao Ru and the others prepared to return home.

Guihua asked, “Madam, aren’t you staying here?”

“No, there’s still a lot to do at home,” Zhao Ru replied. “We just came to see the place and meet everyone. We’ll go back now.”

Jiang Ji said directly, “Why don’t you come with us this afternoon to the village? Get familiar with the way—so if anything comes up later, you’ll know where to find us.”

So the group followed Jiang Ji back to the village.

When Han Qingshan and the others saw the thatched house Jiang Ji’s family lived in, they were stunned.

Ding Xiaojun asked in surprise, “Young Master, you really live here?”

“Yes, this is my home,” Jiang Ji nodded.

Everyone was dumbfounded. They themselves were living in a big house in town, while their masters were still living in a thatched hut—it didn’t feel right.

Ding Xiaojun scratched his head. “Young Master, since you’ve already bought such a large house, why don’t you move into the city?”

That was everyone’s question.

Jiang Ji smiled. “We still have to farm. There are forty mu of farmland at home that need tending.”

Everyone: “…”

Someone asked, “Young Master, do you personally farm?”

“Yes.” Jiang Ji looked around and said, “To tell you the truth, our family only recently earned enough to buy the house. Our new home’s being built now. Come, I’ll show you.”

He led everyone to the construction site of their new house, with Zhao Ru staying behind. Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei came along.

When they saw the size of the house being built, everyone felt a little relieved.

So the young master hadn’t moved to the city yet just to avoid trouble—or maybe he just preferred country life?

Jiang Ji then took them to see the family’s forty mu of fields and the chili crops.

When the villagers saw such a large group coming, one auntie stopped Jiang Nan and asked, “Jiang Nan, who are they?”

“They’re the master chefs my brother hired,” Jiang Nan said.

The auntie blinked. “What kind of master chefs?”

“The chefs for our restaurant—the ones who cook.”

The auntie was startled. “You’re opening a restaurant?”

“It’s not open yet.”

From up ahead, Jiang Bei shouted, “Jiang Nan, hurry up! Brother and the others are way ahead!”

“Coming! Bye, Auntie!” Jiang Nan called and ran off after them.

After touring the fields, when they were about to head back to town, Han Qingshan glanced at Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei and said to Jiang Ji, “Young Master, how about leaving Xiang’er here to serve the young lady or the two little masters? She can work now—serve tea, pour water, wash clothes.”

Jiang Ji refused. “No need. The house isn’t finished yet; there’s no room.”

“Then perhaps let Qiaomei or Hongxiu stay behind? They can just lay a mat on the floor for now.”

Jiang Ji glared at him. “You’re the chefs I hired for the restaurant, not personal servants. If I ever need attendants, I’ll go to the labor market to hire some.”

Han Qingshan hesitated, then replied, “…Yes, Young Master.”

On the way back to town, everyone started chatting.

“Our young master’s family is really strange. They’ve got money now—why do they still farm instead of living in the city?”

“Maybe they’re just used to it? Everyone they know is in the village.”

“The young master’s house doesn’t even have any servants.”

“Didn’t you hear what he said? They only came into money recently. Once their new house is done, they’ll probably hire some.”

Han Qingshan frowned. “Alright, enough gossiping about the masters.”

Everyone immediately fell silent.

Back home, Jiang Yan asked Jiang Ji, “Why didn’t you let anyone stay to help?”

“There’s no room yet,” Jiang Ji said, scratching his head. “Besides, this is the age when Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei are forming their characters. If they get used to being waited on now, they’ll turn out spoiled later. Once the new house is done, we can hire a couple of people to clean the yard and do chores—but Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei don’t need attendants. They should at least learn to take care of themselves. I don’t want them growing up into pampered young masters.”

He spoke from experience. He himself had been spoiled and idle as a child—never did anything on his own. After transmigrating, he couldn’t even tell scallions from wild grass, didn’t know how to cook or wash clothes, and could barely survive on his own.

He wasn’t going to let Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei become like that. What they needed to know, they would learn—there was no harm in that.

Jiang Yan glanced at him. “Didn’t think you had your own philosophy about raising children.”

“…An older brother is like a father, right? Someone’s got to do it,” Jiang Ji sighed.

Then he leaned closer, covering his mouth and whispering, “Besides, I’m definitely not going to have kids of my own, so I’ve got to raise my little brothers and sister well. They’ll be the ones carrying on the Jiang family line. I can’t let them grow crooked—or they’ll blow through everything I’ve worked for!”

Jiang Yan stared at him wordlessly for a while. Jiang Ji felt his stare and got goosebumps. “Why are you looking at me like that? Did I say something wrong?”

Jiang Yan turned away. “No. You’re right—you’re thinking ahead.”

“…” Jiang Ji squinted suspiciously. “I feel like you’re mocking me.”

Jiang Yan raised an eyebrow. “Mocking you? What do you mean?”

Jiang Ji rubbed his nose. “Nothing. Anyway, the ducklings and fish are being released in a few days. I’m going to check on the ducklings.”

Jiang Yan watched him trot off toward the duck pen, his brow twitching slightly. That was clearly an escape.

…

The next day, word spread through the village that Jiang Ji’s family was opening a restaurant. The people seen yesterday were said to be the master chefs for it.

Many villagers asked him about it when they saw him.

It wasn’t something he needed to hide, so Jiang Ji explained, “It’s not open yet—will be in a while. We’ll need to hire waiters and busboys, and people to wash dishes and clean. If your family has anyone available, they can apply then.”

“Really? We can apply?”

Jiang Ji nodded. “As long as you meet the requirements. But let me warn you—I’ll be strict. I don’t hire out of favoritism. If someone doesn’t meet the standards, I won’t take them.”

“Got it. How much will the pay be?”

“Not decided yet.”

“When will you start hiring?”

“It’ll be a while—the restaurant’s still under renovation. I’ll let everyone know when recruitment starts.”

“Alright, we’ll wait for your word.”

“Where’s the restaurant?”

“On North Street.”

“Oh heavens, shops on North Street are expensive, aren’t they?”

“Not too bad.”

That day, the news spread again—when Jiang Ji’s restaurant opened, villagers could go work there. Everyone was suddenly excited.

…

The following day came the time to release the ducks and fish.

Before letting the ducklings into the rice fields, they had to be trained a bit—to swim and peck at food scattered in the water, so they’d later eat water grass and insects in the fields.

Jiang Ji built a small mud enclosure filled with water, where the ducklings practiced swimming and pecking at floating feed.

On the day of release, Lord Chen and Magistrate Xu came again to watch, along with many curious villagers.

Jiang Ji had reorganized his family’s fields—combining smaller plots into large ones. At each end of every field, he’d dug small ponds for the ducklings to play in.

They carried the ducklings to the edge of each field and released the right number according to its size. It was about a week after the rice had turned green again, and the shallow water level was perfect for the young ducks to move around.

Jiang Ji opened the cages, and the ducklings jumped one by one into the water, swimming between the rice plants. They pecked at the bran sprinkled earlier or preened their feathers, but not a single one touched the rice shoots.

Magistrate Xu was amazed. “They really don’t eat the rice seedlings.”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Right. They eat water grass but don’t like the rice. However, they love mature rice grains, so once the ears start forming, we can’t let them into the fields anymore.”

“Oh.” Magistrate Xu smiled at Lord Chen. “Learned something new today.”

Lord Chen laughed and nodded, watching as Jiang Ji’s people released cage after cage of ducklings. “They’re so small—can they swim all the way across the field in a day?”

“Tomorrow we’ll release from the opposite side, or even from the middle,” Jiang Ji said. “We’ll adjust flexibly. Once they grow, their range will expand.”

“You’ll collect them back every evening?”

“Yes.”

After releasing the ducks, before long the fish fry arrived.

These were fish Jiang Ji had ordered in advance from fishermen—grass carp, common carp, and crucian carp. He examined them carefully; they were all healthy.

The fishermen brought out a porcelain bowl and a wooden basin to count the fish fry for Jiang Ji and his group.

In the rice fields, Jiang Ji had already changed out all the water the day before. He’d also installed double-layered barriers of fishing nets and bamboo slats at both the inlets and outlets to ensure the fry couldn’t swim away. On the surface of the water, he had sprinkled chopped grass and bran as feed.

He’d even set up many scarecrows in each paddy. These were designed to rotate with the wind, to scare away birds that might come to eat the little fish.

He released four to five hundred fish per mu of field. After the fishermen counted one basin, Jiang Ji poured it into the water.

The tiny fish scattered as soon as they entered the paddy. Some stayed in the small ponds, while others swam deeper into the fields, nibbling at the grass and bran floating on the water.

After about an hour of work, all the fish fry were released.

This was a pilot project, and everyone who came to watch was full of questions, eager to see whether Jiang Ji could actually raise fish successfully in the fields, and what the results would be in two or three months.

Officials Chen and Xu were particularly interested. Every seven or eight days, they would come by for an inspection, and even on their rest days they sometimes visited together.

They didn’t just look at the rice, ducks, and fish—they also checked the growth of other crops.

As the weather grew hotter, all the crops were thriving. Each time the two officials came, they marveled at how much everything had changed in just a few days.

Jiang Ji and his family were now extremely busy—transplanting vegetables, weeding, turning soil, fertilizing, watering—and every other day, Jiang Ji also went to the city to teach Han Qingshan’s group how to cook.

When the fieldwork got too heavy, they hired extra help.

Then one day, Jiang Ji told the two officials, “Sir, everyone’s sweet potato vines are ready for cutting and selling. Families who didn’t plant before can now buy seedlings. People from other counties can also come to purchase. As for the price, it’s up to you—either let the villagers set their own or have the county office fix a uniform rate. Either way works.”

Earlier, the villagers had planted sweet potato shoots, and now the leftover vines had grown long.

The two officials were delighted. After discussing it, they quickly issued a notice with a suggested price: one copper coin per cutting suitable for planting. Since one long vine could usually yield two to four cuttings, the count would be based on that.

Within the county, people could trade freely, but outsiders had to come to the county office on a set date. Villagers brought their vines there, and money and goods were exchanged on the spot.

Changping County had been the first to cultivate sweet potatoes, and almost every household had bought some, so most of the sales now were to other counties.

Soon, every household followed the notice—cutting the vines, sorting them by length, bundling twenty vines per bunch, and hauling them to town.

Officials from other counties came with silver ready, counting the vines one by one before paying. Once they met their quota, they hurried to transport them home. Some even traveled through the night, afraid that if delayed, the vines would dry out and fail to take root.

With the officials like Chen and Xu overseeing everything, no one dared to cheat. The trading went on for three or four days without a hitch.

Each vine sold for two to four copper coins, and one sweet potato could grow five or six vines. After saving a few for replanting, people still had plenty left to sell. Just from this sale, most villagers earned back all the money they had spent on the original seedlings.

It was the first time they had made money from sweet potatoes, and everyone was overjoyed.

Jiang Ji had been right—sweet potatoes were the most profitable crop: easy to plant, hardy, and every part edible.

From now on, whatever Jiang Ji said to plant, they would plant!

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan also came to sell vines, pulling a cartload.

When the village head and the clan elder saw them, they recognized him right away and pointed them out to others.

“Look, those two young men over there—the shorter one is Jiang Ji.”

“Which one?”

“Over there in line—two handsome fellows, one tall, one shorter. See them? The darker, shorter one is Jiang Ji. The taller one is Jiang Yan.”

“Oh, I see. So they’re the ones who brought us the sweet potatoes.”

“Yep, the very same—the ones who sold them to us.”

Then a young man shouted from across the crowd, “Jiang Ji!”

Jiang Ji turned toward the voice. The place was packed, so he couldn’t tell who had called him.

He raised his voice, “Who’s calling me?”

Now everyone knew which one he was.

“Ah, so that’s Jiang Ji!”

“So this is the young man himself.”

“Jiang Ji, thank you! We’ve already earned back what we spent on the sweet potatoes!”

“Young man, thank you. During this lean season, we can finally make a bit of money.”

“Yeah, the vegetables aren’t ready yet, so these sweet potato vines came just in time.”

Everyone came up to thank him, smiling sincerely with gratitude.

Jiang Ji smiled back. “You all paid for them—no need to thank me.”

Then he reminded them, “In six or seven days, remember to turn over your sweet potato fields. This time, you can dig deeper and pull out the roots of the weeds, because once the tubers start forming, you won’t be able to dig that deep anymore. After that, you can only do shallow weeding. Just follow the planting guide—it’s really easy to grow.”

“Alright, we’ll do as you say!”

Watching everyone leave contentedly with their earnings, Jiang Ji felt a warm satisfaction himself.

“Hey, Jiang Yan, why am I so happy seeing them make money?”

Jiang Yan looked at him deeply. “Because you have a soft heart.”

“…Feels like you’re teasing me again,” Jiang Ji said, waving a hand generously. “Forget it, I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll let it go.”

Jiang Yan’s lips curved slightly; he probably understood now what that phrase meant.

“I’m not teasing you,” he said.

“Huh?” Jiang Ji turned to look at him. “What did you say?”

Jiang Yan met his gaze and said earnestly, “I wasn’t teasing you—I was praising you.”

Jiang Ji looked into his dark eyes, where small points of light shimmered. In that reflection, he could see himself.

Jiang Ji looked away and blinked. “Oh. Got it. Thanks.”

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

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

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

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

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

“Yes, I am.”

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

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

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

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

Jiang Ji was pleased.

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

“Ol- old master?”

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

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

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

Han Qingshan: “…”

Jiang Yan: “…”

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

Jiang Yan shook his head, still smiling.

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

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

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

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

“Settled in all right?” Jiang Ji asked.

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

“Good. Let’s go take a look.”

They headed to the kitchen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Perfect.”

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

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

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

Everyone perked up to listen.

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

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

“Third, character matters more than skill.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Han Qingshan answered, “Yes, young master.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What kind of young master cooked in the kitchen himself?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sit,” Jiang Ji said, looking around.

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

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

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

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

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

At that, everyone started eating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everyone laughed and went back to eating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Han Qingshan nodded. “All right.”

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

“Young master.”

“Hm? What is it?”

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

Jiang Ji blinked. “Afraid of what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re… you’re not afraid?”

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

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

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

Han Qingshan was startled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wang Song agreed immediately.

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

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

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

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

“Our new master,” Han Qingshan said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yu Yang was speechless.

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

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

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

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

“…I hope so.”

*

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you think?” Jiang Ji asked.

Everyone nodded enthusiastically. “It’s amazing!”

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

Jiang Ji smiled, pleased.

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

“Father!”

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

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

“Xiang’er!”

“Father—!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yu Yang lingered. “Young master, I…”

“Go on.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Yan: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Yan: “…”

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

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

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

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

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

After breakfast the next morning, Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan headed to town to buy a house and some servants. Jiang Ji didn’t know how much houses in town cost, so he brought a thousand taels just in case.

They went to the brokerage office.

Four brokers stood at the doorway waiting for business. Seeing the two men dressed in simple coarse shirts, only one of them—a young broker of about twenty named Wang Song—smiled and stepped forward to greet them.

Just then, a steward from a wealthy household arrived with his attendants.

That steward was a regular customer, and at once the other three brokers brushed right past Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan, crowding around the steward and asking enthusiastically whether he wanted to buy servants or property.

The steward said he wanted to rent a warehouse temporarily to store goods, and quickly chose one of the brokers to show him around.

“That’s the steward of the Zhang family,” Wang Song said with a smile. “He’s a frequent client here.”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Ah, the Zhang family’s steward—no wonder everyone ran over.”

Wang Song smiled, changing the subject. “And what about you two, young masters? Are you looking to buy servants or a house?”

“We’re looking to buy a house,” Jiang Ji replied.

The two brokers nearby turned to look, surprised. Clearly, they hadn’t expected these plainly dressed men from the countryside to be shopping for property.

Wang Song’s eyes lit up. “How large a house do you want?”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. If they were to open a restaurant and a cloth shop later, they’d need quite a few workers. Some might even live on-site.

“The bigger, the better. At least large enough to house twenty or thirty people—three courtyards at minimum, and it must be within the city.”

A three-courtyard residence!

The two brokers who had ignored them froze, instantly regretting their judgment.

Jiang Ji added, “If there are any restaurants or shopfronts for sale, we’d like to see those too. And lastly, we’ll need a few servants.”

A shop would take time to renovate, so they needed to start preparations early.

He wanted both a shop and servants!

The two brokers silently cursed themselves. They shouldn’t have dismissed him just because he looked like a villager.

Wang Song’s smile became even warmer. “Of course, of course. Please come inside, gentlemen. I’ll show you the available estates first.”

He led them into a side hall, served tea, and then brought out four sets of blueprints for large houses to introduce.

“Gentlemen, here are four sizable estates currently for sale. This one is a three-courtyard home with an adjoining garden, located in the east of the city…”

Wang Song carefully went over the locations, layouts, and prices of all four properties.

Jiang Ji asked about the prices, and Wang Song quoted exactly what the owners had set.

“Shall I take you to see them in person? On the way, we’ll pass by a shop that’s also for sale—you can take a look at both.”

“Good,” Jiang Ji nodded, then pointed at the smallest house among the plans. “We can skip this one—it’s too small. Let’s start with the largest.”

“Very well,” Wang Song said cheerfully.

After informing the head clerk, he requested a carriage for the trip. The clerk, hearing it was a deal of this scale, approved immediately.

The largest estate was in the southern part of the city. According to Wang Song, the owners had moved their entire family to the provincial capital and were selling this residence.

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan followed him to view it. It had four courtyards, plus a garden. The buildings were well maintained, though the location was a bit remote—near the city wall, some distance from the main street.

They then went to see another one in the east of the city—a three-courtyard residence with two additional small yards. The house had been built only five years ago, in a good location just a short walk from East Main Street. The surrounding area was quite decent too.

Jiang Ji had originally wanted to bargain directly with the owner of the estate, but the steward explained that the owner was out visiting friends and wouldn’t return until evening. Jiang Ji could only let it go for now.

In the northern part of the city, there was another three-courtyard residence without an additional yard or garden, but Jiang Ji felt its location wasn’t ideal.

By the time they’d toured all the properties, it was already noon. The three of them found a tavern, ordered some food, and Jiang Ji asked for a pot of rice wine. They ate and drank leisurely.

During the meal, Wang Song learned that Jiang Ji was buying the house to accommodate servants for a future restaurant. He said, “The restaurant we’re going to see later also has a backyard—people can live there.”

“Really? How many rooms?” Jiang Ji’s eyes lit up. A proper shop should definitely have space for live-in workers.

“There are four rooms,” Wang Song replied. “I’ve seen it myself. One of them’s being used as a storeroom. It’s not far from here.”

“Then we’ll go take a look after lunch.” Jiang Ji asked, “Why is the owner selling it?”

Wang Song blinked. “Maybe he’s off to make his fortune elsewhere.”

Jiang Ji gave him a faint, knowing smile. “You mean he couldn’t keep the business running, right?”

Wang Song chuckled awkwardly. “Can’t fool you, young master.”

“That’s no surprise. If the shop were profitable, no one would be selling it.”

“Ah, you’re absolutely right,” Wang Song sighed, taking a sip of wine. After thinking for a moment, he decided that since these two were big clients, he could share a bit of insider information.

“To tell you the truth,” he said, lowering his voice, “the owner really couldn’t keep it going. You’ve heard of Xiang Man Lou, haven’t you?”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Of course. That’s the Tian family’s restaurant.”

“Exactly. Xiang Man Lou’s only been open for two years, but they brought in a master chef all the way from the provincial capital. The food there is incredible.” Wang Song leaned in. “It’s on North Street, only thirty or forty paces away from that other restaurant. Ever since it opened, most folks in town go there to eat, and business at the surrounding restaurants has dropped sharply.”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. “But North Street connects straight to the docks. There’s constant traffic—travelers from both north and south. There should be no shortage of customers. People in a hurry wouldn’t want to wait long for seats in a big restaurant. By that logic, the smaller one shouldn’t have gone under so easily.”

“The restaurant has two floors—it’s quite large. Maybe they just didn’t have enough customers to sustain it,” Wang Song guessed. Then, lowering his voice again, he added, “I also heard their head chef got poached by Xiang Man Lou for a higher wage.”

Jiang Ji blinked. “Didn’t Xiang Man Lou already have a master chef from the capital?”

Wang Song shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe they were too busy to handle the crowd.”

Jiang Ji exchanged a look with Jiang Yan. Then he asked, “Before Xiang Man Lou opened, was this restaurant doing well?”

“Oh, it was one of the best in town,” Wang Song confirmed.

Jiang Ji understood now. He also realized the importance of training his own people.

“So the restaurant’s for sale—what about the manager and the waiters? Are they still around?”

“The manager’s still there, handling the sale. The waiters have all scattered.”

After lunch, they went to see the restaurant Wang Song had mentioned. It was already closed, with a For Sale sign hanging on the half-open door.

Wang Song knocked. “Manager Lü, I’ve brought someone to see the shop.”

Manager Lü, a man in his forties, was doing some accounting behind the counter. When he saw who it was, he quickly came out. “Please, come in.”

Wang Song led Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan inside. Manager Lü accompanied them as they toured the entire building.

The restaurant was two stories tall and quite spacious. The first floor could hold over thirty tables, and the second had five private rooms.

Jiang Ji went to inspect the back kitchen—it was roomy, with three stoves for stir-frying, five for stewing and simmering, and two large ones for rice. Four long tables were pushed together to form a wide prep counter. The courtyard had its own well and latrine, plus a warehouse on one side and three small rooms for lodging.

Jiang Ji examined it carefully. If he wanted to make roast duck, he’d have to build several roasting ovens, which meant opening up one side of the rooms.

Overall, it was a good property—especially since it was located on North Street, where the foot traffic was constant.

“How much are they asking for this place?” Jiang Ji asked.

Manager Lü hesitated, then held up a hand to show a number. “This much.”

“Three hundred taels?” Jiang Ji raised an eyebrow.

Manager Lü nodded.

Jiang Ji knew from Wang Song that small courtyards in town sold for only a dozen or twenty taels. The three-courtyard residence they’d just seen was priced at two hundred taels—already expensive for the town. His favorite three-courtyard house with two side yards had been listed at three hundred.

This shop was pricey, but given the excellent location and size, he could accept it—though a small discount would be nice.

“That’s steep,” Jiang Ji said, frowning. “How about giving me a better price?”

Wang Song blinked in surprise. Usually, wealthy buyers let the broker handle negotiations—not this straightforward approach.

Manager Lü looked uncomfortable. “Young master, that’s the price set by the owner. I don’t have the authority to change it.”

“What? Didn’t your employer tell you the bottom line? Didn’t leave you any room to negotiate? It’s just a flat price?” Jiang Ji asked rapidly.

Manager Lü hesitated, then said, “If you’re truly interested, I can offer you this price.” He gestured again—two fingers, then nine.

“Two hundred ninety?” Jiang Ji sighed. “Why can’t you people just say the number outright?”

Manager Lü nodded.

“Manager Lü, to be honest, that’s still too high. If it’s two hundred fifty, I’ll buy it on the spot,” Jiang Ji said firmly.

Manager Lü’s eyes widened. “Young master, that’s quite a drop!”

“Ah, that’s all I can afford. Discuss it with your employer. If they agree, we have a deal,” Jiang Ji said.

Manager Lü was silent for a moment, then replied, “Young master, I truly can’t decide on my own. I’ll have to ask the owner.”

“Go ahead then,” Jiang Ji said. “If it’s approved, contact Wang Song—he’ll find me.”

When they left the restaurant, Jiang Ji didn’t get back into the carriage. He turned to Wang Song and said, “That three-courtyard house with two side yards—please go find the owner and make an offer for me. Same as the restaurant: if they’ll take two hundred fifty taels, I’ll buy it.”

“Understood, I’ll ask,” Wang Song replied, nodding. “But young master, I doubt that restaurant will go for two hundred fifty. The location really is prime.”

“Just try,” Jiang Ji said with a grin. “I’m not exactly a rich man, you see my clothes? I’ve already put up everything I’ve got. I really can’t afford two hundred ninety.”

“All right, I’ll do my best to negotiate it for you.” Wang Song then asked, “Would you like to go to the brokerage now to pick out servants?”

“No, we need to buy the house first,” Jiang Ji said. “Otherwise they’ll have nowhere to stay. Oh, and if you hear of any other restaurants or shops for sale, keep an eye out for me—preferably two stories, spacious ones. In case this deal falls through, it’s good to have a backup. Thanks.”

“Got it,” Wang Song replied.

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan were heading home, but Wang Song offered to see them to the city gate. Jiang Ji declined, saying they wanted to stop by the marketplace to look at ducklings.

After they left, Wang Song went back inside to speak with Manager Lü for quite some time, then hitched a carriage and went straight to the owner of the three-courtyard, two-yard estate Jiang Ji had liked. He planned to wait there until the owner returned so they could negotiate directly.

If he could close both deals, his commission this month would be substantial. Wang Song was full of determination—he was going to make it happen.

Meanwhile, Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan went to the western market.

They picked out four batches of healthy ducklings, each about seven or eight days old—perfect, since in another week they could be released into the rice fields.

Each of them carried two cages home. “A single mu of field can hold at most two broods of ducks,” Jiang Ji said. “We’ll need a lot more, so we’ll have to come check again these next few days. Tomorrow, we’ll buy slightly older ones to release first.”

“And the fish fry?” Jiang Yan asked.

“Those too—fish require more stock,” Jiang Ji said. “We’ll go early tomorrow to look. We’ll need to visit the fish ponds.”

The next morning, they hauled a cart into town. After buying several more broods of ducklings, they parked the cart in the county office courtyard and asked the constables there to keep an eye on them.

By now, the constables all knew them well and were very obliging. Magistrate Xu and Lord Chen had heard they were preparing to release the ducks into the paddies, and even came out to take a look at the ducklings themselves.

Afterward, Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan went to several fish ponds, checked the fry, negotiated with the owners, signed purchase contracts, and paid deposits.

By the time they finished, it was noon. They ate lunch, then returned to the county office to collect the ducklings and bought rice bran and unhulled rice for feed before heading home.

Zhao Ru had already fenced off a section of the yard for the ducklings to waddle and feed in.

Not long after they arrived, Wang Song came looking for them.

When he found Jiang Ji’s home, he was stunned to see the small thatched courtyard.

These two young men were buying a grand estate in town for their servants—yet they themselves still lived in this humble cottage?

He quickly hid his surprise. They’d be moving soon anyway, he thought.

But when he noticed some unfamiliar crops growing in the nearby fields, he suddenly remembered all the talk circulating around town lately—someone in the west of the city had been experimenting with new rice and sweet potato varieties, supposedly a villager from Shanqian Village.

And this… seemed to be Shanqian Village.

“Come in and have some water,” Jiang Ji said, inviting him into the main room and pouring him a cup. “So, did you manage to close the deal?”

Wang Song took a sip before replying, “I went to find the estate owner yesterday. I talked till my tongue went dry, and finally got the price down to this.”

He held up a hand, gesturing.

“Two hundred sixty, huh?” Jiang Ji sighed. “Brother, could you just say the number out loud next time? Don’t make me guess.”

Wang Song blinked, then laughed. “All right, you’re right—I’m just used to it. Never met a buyer as straightforward as you.”

Usually, property deals were handled with gestures. Some people thought talking money outright was too crass and preferred the subtle way.

Jiang Ji shook his head. “I’m just direct. Nothing shameful about talking money.”

“True enough,” Wang Song said with a grin, more relaxed now. “So what do you think, young master? If you’re satisfied, we can finalize it tomorrow and transfer the deed.”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment, then asked, “What about the restaurant? How much did you get it down to?”

“Two hundred seventy taels,” Wang Song said.

That was within Jiang Ji’s budget. He nodded immediately. “Good. I’ll come find you tomorrow.”

Wang Song’s eyes lit up—he hadn’t expected Jiang Ji to agree so readily. “Excellent! I’ll inform the owner today, and we’ll meet at the brokerage tomorrow.”

The next day, Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan returned to town. They met with the two property owners at the brokerage, paid the silver, went to the county office to register the deeds, and received the house keys.

Afterward, they followed Wang Song back to the brokerage to look at servants.

“I’ll need seven or eight,” Jiang Ji said. “If there are more suitable ones, I can take extra. They must be of good character—preferably know how to cook, or at least have interest in learning. Ages between fourteen and forty-five, men or women both fine. And they must be willing to sign death contracts.”

Hearing that, Wang Song immediately understood he was hiring for a restaurant, and went to make the arrangements.

Jiang Ji nudged Jiang Yan. “I’m no good at judging people—you help me out.”

Jiang Yan nodded.

The broker who handled human sales brought out a group of servants, about thirty in total.

Wang Song mainly dealt in property and shops; another broker specialized in people. Wang Song gestured. “Take a look, young masters. You can ask about their background.”

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan stood in front, scanning the group. Jiang Ji wasn’t sure how to choose, so he scratched his head and said, “Hello, everyone. My name is Jiang Ji. I’m looking for people who can cook—if you can, raise your hand so I can see.”

Immediately, five people raised their hands—three men and two women: one woman in her twenties, two in their thirties, one a bit over forty, and a young man around seventeen or eighteen.

Jiang Ji went down the line, asking each of the five candidates what dishes they could cook, how they prepared them, and where they had worked before.

They answered one by one.

When they were done, Jiang Ji glanced at Jiang Yan, silently asking what he thought.

Jiang Yan gave him a look, then called the nearby broker aside and asked quietly, “Where are these people from? Why were they sold? Tell me clearly.”

Jiang Ji’s eyes brightened—right, that was something important to ask.

The broker explained everything in detail.

The man in his forties was named Han Qingshan. His spirit was worn, his face unshaven and tired. He had once worked for a wealthy household and had a fifteen-year-old daughter. The young master of the house had assaulted her, and she took her own life in despair. Han Qingshan, enraged, went to take revenge on the young master, but was beaten nearly to death and then sold off as punishment.

Next to him stood a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old young man who also looked dispirited. He had been Han Qingshan’s apprentice—and was once meant to be his future son-in-law. The two had been sold together after the same incident.

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan fell silent.

Another man in his early thirties had been sold for embezzling money from his employer.

The woman in her early thirties came from a neighboring county; she had been a concubine in a rich household but was sold after being accused of harming the mistress’s child.

The last was a woman in her twenties with a boy of about seven or eight. Her previous master had gone bankrupt and sold off his estate and servants—including her and her son.

After hearing everyone’s stories, both Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan had a clearer sense of them.

Then Jiang Ji stepped forward again and said to the group, “I’m looking for people to work in a restaurant kitchen—future head chefs. If you’re interested in learning to cook, raise your hand.”

Four hands went up immediately, followed by eight more.

Jiang Ji listened to each of them describe their background, then heard the broker’s introductions again. After some discussion with Jiang Yan, they finalized their choices.

“They’re all signing death contracts, right?” Jiang Ji asked.

The broker nodded. “Yes.”

Jiang Ji chose nine people in total, including Han Qingshan and his apprentice, as well as the woman with her child. He passed on the other two and then asked the broker for the total price.

The broker hesitated. “Young master, will you be buying the woman’s child as well?”

“Of course,” Jiang Ji said matter-of-factly. “They’re mother and son—what, you expect me to split them up?”

The broker immediately called over the nine selected people.

When the woman heard her name, she grabbed her child and rushed over, kneeling abruptly before Jiang Ji and pulling her son down with her.

Startled, Jiang Ji exclaimed, “What are you doing? Get up, quickly!”

He reached out to help her, but she shrank back.

“Young master, please, I beg you—buy my child too,” she said tearfully, bowing her head to the ground. “I’ll work as hard as I can and won’t ask for much pay. Just please take him with me.” The boy followed her lead, kowtowing beside her.

Jiang Ji grew flustered. “I already said you’re together! I’m not separating you. Please, get up.”

The woman froze, then burst into tears of relief, knocking her head three more times. “Thank you, master! Thank you!”

Jiang Ji helped her up and turned to the rest. “Are you all willing to come with me?”

The other eight stood stunned—they had never met a buyer who even asked for their consent.

“Well? Speak up.”

They nodded quickly.

“Good. Go pack your things and come with me in a bit.”

Jiang Ji paid the silver, had new contracts drawn and signed, and completed all the formalities.

Then he led everyone to the estate in the eastern part of the city. There were ten of them total—seven men and three women.

He said, “You’ll all live here from now on. The men in this courtyard, the women in the one behind.”

The group stared in disbelief. None of them had expected to live in such a fine place.

“Are you really letting us live here?” one of them asked.

“Yes,” Jiang Ji said. “Among you, Uncle Han is the eldest and used to manage the kitchen in his last household. From now on, he’ll be in charge.” He turned to Han Qingshan. “Uncle Han, if this courtyard isn’t big enough, the rear storage rooms can also be converted for living. Arrange it as you see fit.”

Han Qingshan was taken aback. “Me? You want me to be in charge?”

“Yes,” Jiang Ji said with a small smile. “I’m trusting you to help me manage everyone. Can you do that?”

Something flickered in Han Qingshan’s eyes. He nodded firmly. “Yes, master.”

Jiang Ji then turned to the woman with the child. “Sister Guihua, let Xiao Yi stay with you for now. Once he’s older and more comfortable, he can move in with Uncle Han and the others.”

Guihua was already grateful just to be allowed to stay with her son. “Understood, master,” she said softly.

Once housing was settled, Jiang Ji continued, “My name is Jiang Ji, and this is Jiang Yan. We’re from Shanqian Village in the west of the city. Our family won’t be living here for the time being—it’ll mostly just be the two of us coming in and out. But I’ll need you to keep the main courtyard clean.”

Han Qingshan nodded. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

“Good.” Jiang Ji smiled. “Your monthly wages will be one tael of silver each, and two taels for Uncle Han. When the restaurant opens, if business goes well, I’ll raise your pay.”

The group’s faces lit up with joy.

This new master was generous—not only giving them such good living quarters but also letting them work in a business rather than serve as house attendants.

Jiang Ji clapped his hands. “All right, rest well today. Tomorrow, I’ll come by to taste your cooking and start teaching new dishes.”

He handed Han Qingshan a pouch of one hundred taels. “You’ll use this for food and household expenses. Do you know how to keep accounts?”

Han Qingshan nodded. “Yes.”

“Good. Then handle the arrangements. See what the house still needs and buy what’s missing.” Jiang Ji added, “Oh, and get a few new locks installed—this house and the restaurant both. Tomorrow I’ll take you to inspect the restaurant. It’ll need major renovations, and I’ll be counting on you to oversee it.”

“Yes, master,” Han Qingshan said.

“All right, then. We’ll head back for today and return tomorrow,” Jiang Ji said. After giving his final instructions, he and Jiang Yan left for home.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Once Jiang Ji decided to act, he got to work right away. That same afternoon, he finished drawing the design for a roasting oven. He chose the hanging-roast style—a small enclosed structure—and planned to test it out first. If it worked well, he would build another one in the new house later.

The materials and workers were readily available. Jiang Ji went to find Master Zheng and asked him to help construct the oven.

After looking over the design and confirming its purpose, Master Zheng said, “Sure, this is simple. I can finish it in two days.”

Jiang Ji was a little worried. “But there’s no cement right now. If we keep burning fire inside the top section, won’t it crack?”

“It’s about the same as our regular cooking stoves,” Master Zheng replied. “Not that big either—it’ll be fine.”

“What if I burn it all day long?” Jiang Ji pressed.

“You’re going to burn it that long?” Master Zheng thought for a moment. “If you’re worried, just give it a break every few hours. Let it cool for a couple of hours before you use it again. Or build several ovens and rotate them.”

Jiang Ji nodded. “That makes sense.”

They agreed to start construction the next day, and Jiang Ji went home.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the cement issue. Opening his livestream, he asked the viewers, “Guys, can someone check for me how cement is made?”

【Even if we told you, you couldn’t make it right now】
【Cement nowadays is industrially produced—you don’t have the machines for that】

“Then help me find out how the earliest cement was made—the primitive kind.”

【Mix lime and clay, calcine it, grind it into powder, then add a bit of gypsum】
【Yeah, the original cement was made from a mixture of limestone and clay】

Jiang Ji’s eyes lit up. “Hey, we have lime here! Master Zheng and the others already use lime mortar mixed with sticky rice water. What about clay—what does it look like? Does yellow soil count as clay?”

【What kind of yellow soil are you talking about? Not sure if we have the same thing】
【Yeah, what you call yellow soil might not be what we mean by clay】

“It’s fine,” Jiang Ji said, chuckling. “2977 automatically translates and adjusts things—it’s got a little bug you guys probably haven’t noticed yet.”

【What bug?】

“If I ask you guys about something technical, what you have might not exist here, right? But the system automatically converts it into something I do have here. I think for technical stuff, it’ll ‘translate’ it too. Why don’t we test it out?”

【…】
【You can try, but if it works, you could skip doing missions entirely. The system wouldn’t allow that kind of bug】

“It’s not the same,” Jiang Ji explained. “Even if I understand the theory from what you say, I can’t necessarily make it. But the skills from completed missions—I actually learn them. Like cooking—I’d never cooked before, but after getting the skill reward, I could cook instantly.”

【Oh, that’s true】
【Then you’ll still have to do missions】
【I looked it up—yellow soil doesn’t count as clay】

“Oh, I see. I’ve never seen clay myself, so I don’t even know what it looks like.”

【Ask the system—see if it has a related mission】

“Oh right!” Jiang Ji smacked his forehead. “2977, are there any tasks related to cement or clay?”

2977 quickly replied: 【Special Mission 199: Complete to obtain Beginner Cement-Making Skill.】

Jiang Ji opened Special Mission 199: Propose to the emperor the establishment of a women’s academy, allowing women to receive equal educational opportunities.

After reading it, Jiang Ji felt his teeth ache. The emperor? Where was he supposed to find the emperor?

The viewers asked what the mission was. Jiang Ji sighed. “Yeah, there is a mission, but I can’t complete it—it involves the emperor.”

He read out the mission details to them.

【Why are so many of your missions related to the emperor?】
【Forget it—you’ll find clay faster on your own】

“You’re right. It’s quicker if I just look for clay myself.” Jiang Ji thought for a bit, then added, “But I can tell Master Zheng about it. He’s in the trade and has seen more than I have. If I tell him, maybe he’ll try it out if he finds some.”

…

The next day, Master Zheng arrived with his crew and the materials. He also brought along an apprentice to help with construction. While they were setting up, Jiang Ji asked if he had ever seen clay before.

“You mean sticky soil?” Master Zheng said as he cleared the area for the oven. “That’s the kind used for making ceramics, isn’t it?”

“Ceramics?” Jiang Ji’s eyes brightened. “Right! Why didn’t I think of that?”

“What do you need it for?” Jiang Yan asked while moving bricks.

“It’s important!” Jiang Ji said excitedly, then turned to Master Zheng. “Master Zheng, I heard that if you mix lime and clay, then bake it in a kiln, grind what comes out into powder, and add a little gypsum and water—it can be used as mortar for building walls. It’s even better than what we use now.”

Master Zheng’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”

“Really! You should try it when you have time,” Jiang Ji said eagerly. “Wouldn’t that be great? We’re using sticky rice water right now—it works, but sticky rice is expensive and edible. If we can use clay instead, we won’t waste food.”

“True!” Master Zheng was intrigued. “Do you know the exact proportions?”

“Let me think—I heard about it before.” Jiang Ji clapped his hands. “Wait a second, I’ll be right back.”

Jiang Yan watched him wash his hands and head toward the latrine, guessing that when he came back, he’d “remember” the details.

Sure enough, a few moments later Jiang Ji returned and said to the master, “I remembered! The limestone should make up about sixty to seventy percent, clay about ten to twenty percent, then a little iron ore—maybe one to two parts per hundred—and about ten percent coal. That’s roughly it. Bake it for four or five hours, grind it into fine powder, then mix in a bit of gypsum. That should work, but it might take a few trials to get it just right.”

Jiang Yan glanced at Jiang Ji, his eyes deep and thoughtful.

Just like his mysterious cooking skills that no one could explain, Jiang Ji somehow knew things that even veteran builders had never heard of.

More and more secrets surrounded him.

How very interesting.

When Master Zheng heard the detailed explanation, his face lit up. “Master Jiang, you’ve got paper and brush, right? I need to write this down and have someone test it.”

“Of course—I’ll write it for you.” Jiang Ji turned to Jiang Yan. “Jiang Yan, help me jot this down.”

The two washed their hands, then Jiang Ji dictated while Jiang Yan wrote out the instructions for making basic cement.

Master Zheng read it carefully, as if it were a precious treasure, then folded it neatly and tucked it into his robe.

Soon after, he and his men finished building the oven. “We’ll have to wait a few days for the top to dry completely before removing the boards. Then it’ll be ready to use.”

“Got it,” Jiang Ji said, nodding. Then he took out another drawing. “Could you also build me this simpler one?”

The drawing showed a jar-shaped open-top oven—smaller, with food placed in from above.

He wanted to test which type would work better.

This smaller oven was easy to build; Master Zheng and his apprentice finished it in half a day and coated the outside with a layer of lime plaster. Once it dried for a couple of days, it would be ready.

Jiang Ji went to town, bought two ducks, some hooks and an iron rack from the blacksmith, and even a sheet of iron to use as a lid.

…

Two days later, the small oven was ready.

Jiang Ji began his first attempt at making roast duck. Zhao Ru and Jiang Yan stood nearby watching.

After slaughtering, plucking, and cleaning the ducks, Jiang Ji cut off the feet, removed the tongue, and pulled out the windpipe through the neck. Then he took a small bamboo tube and blew air into the duck.

“What are you doing?” Zhao Ru asked curiously. “Why blow air into it?”

“This makes the duck taste better. The skin separates from the meat so it roasts evenly,” Jiang Ji explained.

After blowing air, he made a small cut under the wing to remove the innards, inserted a short bamboo stick to keep the body open, cleaned the inside again, and hung the ducks up to dry.

Roast duck involved many steps—after drying the skin, it had to be scalded, brushed with sugar water, dried again, sealed at the tail, filled with boiling water, and only then roasted.

That afternoon, Jiang Ji prepared lotus-leaf pancakes and sweet bean sauce. By midafternoon, he began roasting.

He used the small oven. There was no fruitwood, so he burned pine instead. The fire blazed hotly. Above it, a cross-shaped iron rack held the ducks suspended inside the oven on long hooks.

After roasting for over half an hour, Jiang Ji poked a knife into the duck’s leg to check—it was done.

By then, Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei had just returned from school. They could smell the roast from outside, and their homework was hopeless—every few characters, they’d glance at the door.

When they saw Jiang Ji lift the iron sheet lid, Jiang Nan ran out excitedly. “Brother, is it done?”

“It’s done. We can eat soon,” Jiang Ji said, setting the roast duck in a large bowl. “Don’t touch that iron sheet—it’s hot!”

He had just finished speaking when Jiang Yan came out carrying a bucket of water.

“Jiang Nan, Jiang Bei—stand back,” Jiang Yan said. When the boys stepped away, he poured the water over the hot iron lid.

Ssssss—

A cloud of steam hissed up instantly.

“Whoa—!”

The twins gasped in amazement. As soon as Jiang Ji carried the duck back into the kitchen, they trailed right after him.

Zhao Ru had already finished the other dishes, waiting only for the duck.

Jiang Ji washed his hands and began carving.

He cut off a piece and tasted it first. Jiang Nan stared eagerly. “Brother, how is it?”

“Not bad,” Jiang Ji said. Compared to the authentic roast duck he’d once had, his version still fell a little short—but it was already quite good.

“Can I try?” Jiang Nan asked, nearly drooling.

“Not yet. It’s plain now—wait till we dip it in the sauce.”

He sliced the duck neatly, plated it, and brought it to the table.

“All right, time to eat,” Jiang Ji announced. “There are a few ways to eat this. Here’s the sweet sauce, and here’s the savory dip. Choose whichever you like. You can wrap it with cucumber or just dip and eat.”

“How do we wrap it?” Zhao Ru asked.

“Like this—follow me,” Jiang Ji said.

He placed a lotus-leaf pancake on his palm, spread a layer of sweet bean sauce, added slices of duck, cucumber strips, and green onion, then rolled it up and took a bite.

“Eat it like this. See if you like the slightly sweet flavor. If not, use the savory dip instead.”

Everyone followed his example and began eating.

“How is it?” Jiang Ji asked eagerly.

Zhao Ru chewed thoughtfully. “The duck’s delicious, the cucumber’s crisp—but it’s a bit too sweet for me.”

“Then try the salty one, Mother.”

Jiang Xia, however, seemed to enjoy it. “It’s actually pretty good! The first bite felt strange, but the second one’s really tasty.”

“Try both kinds—eat whichever you prefer,” Jiang Ji said. He was used to both flavors.

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei, being meat lovers, skipped the pancakes entirely. They dipped slices straight into the salty sauce and devoured them.

“This skin’s amazing—it smells so good!” Jiang Nan exclaimed.

“And the meat’s great too,” Jiang Bei added.

Jiang Ji laughed at them. “You two won’t get tired of eating like that?”

Roast duck was rich and fatty; after a few bites, most people found it heavy. That was why the cucumber or radish was used—to balance the flavor with something fresh and crisp.

But Jiang Nan shook his head, his mouth glistening with oil. “It’s delicious—not greasy at all!”

Jiang Ji chuckled, then turned to Zhao Ru. “Mother, how’s the savory one?”

“The savory one’s delicious. I still prefer that flavor,” Zhao Ru said with a smile.

“As long as you like it.” Jiang Ji then looked over at Jiang Yan, noticing that he’d been eating with the sweet sauce. “You like the sweet kind?”

Jiang Yan nodded. “Mm. It tastes really good.”

“Do you think it could work as a shop dish?” Jiang Ji asked.

Jiang Yan nodded again. “Yes.”

Without looking up from his plate, Jiang Nan chimed in between bites, while Jiang Bei said loudly, “Yeah—it’s tasty! We could sell it for sure.”

“It’s so good, people would definitely line up to buy it,” Jiang Xia added eagerly. “Brother, when are we going to start selling it?”

Jiang Ji answered while eating, “It’s still too early to open a shop. The oven we have now is too small, and I can’t handle everything alone. I’d need to take on apprentices and teach them other dishes too. Once they’ve learned enough, I could make them head chefs, and I wouldn’t have to cook all the time myself.”

Jiang Xia’s eyes widened. “But if you train them, what if they leave and open their own shops later?”

Jiang Ji paused. “That’s… a good point.”

He began to think it over.

Zhao Ru offered a suggestion. “Why not just buy a few people? Your own people are more trustworthy.”

Buy servants?

Jiang Ji froze for a moment. In this era, the buying and selling of servants was indeed common—and perfectly legal. Still, it felt strange to him, clashing with the values he’d been raised with.

“What do you think?” he asked Jiang Yan.

Jiang Yan nodded. “It’s reasonable. Having your own people would be more reliable. Best to buy those under death contracts—it’s more secure.”

Jiang Ji thought about it. In this world, that was simply how things worked—no need to get hung up on it.

He nodded. “All right. Let’s find a few with good character and an interest in cooking. As long as they’re willing to learn, I’ll teach them. At least that way, they’ll have a proper skill for the future. But our house can’t fit anyone right now. It’ll take at least two months before they’re trained.”

Jiang Yan said, “Then buy a house in town for them to live in. They’ll be working there anyway, so it’s better to get one now. You can modify the kitchen—build a few more stoves for them to practice on. For now, just visit every other day to teach. When choosing people, pick those with some experience—they’ll learn faster.”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment, then nodded. “All right. Come with me to town tomorrow so we can find a broker and buy a house.”

“Sure.” Jiang Yan agreed.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

The next day, Jiang Ji exchanged for some fruit tree seeds and began sprouting them.

He planned to find a more secluded plot of land to raise the seedlings first, then transplant them later to improve their chances of survival.

Some fruit trees couldn’t be planted together—for instance, peach trees couldn’t be mixed with apples or pears, or else pest infestations would become severe. There also needed to be space left between different types of trees, so realistically, not many could be planted.

Planting a dozen or so of each type would be enough—after all, these were for the family’s own consumption, not for profit.

After soaking all the seeds, Jiang Ji went into town, found some fishermen, and ordered a large quantity of fine nets. Then he went to the lumber shop and ordered many long wooden stakes, asking them to sharpen one end and deliver them to his home.

In a little while, it would be time to transplant the rice seedlings. By then, he planned to try raising ducks and fish in the rice fields to help solve the problem of fertilizer shortage. For that, he needed to build fences or nets around the fields.

He had already written these methods—raising ducks and fish in paddy fields—into his rice cultivation guide. During his own lectures, he had also explained them. It just wasn’t clear how many people would actually try it.

Either way, he was going to implement it himself.

The land began right at the front of Jiang Ji’s house, so when several flatbed carts arrived carrying loads of long wooden poles, many neighbors came over to look.

One aunt asked curiously, “Jiang Ji, what are you doing with so many stakes? Building trellises for winter melons? You don’t need that many, do you?”

Beans, loofahs, and cucumbers all needed bamboo poles to climb, and winter melons required trellises.

As the workers from the lumber shop carried the poles inside, Jiang Ji replied, “No, I’m using them to build fences.”

“What kind of fences?”

“Once the rice seedlings are transplanted, I’m going to raise ducks and fish in the fields. I need to enclose the area.”

“Oh, that’s right—you mentioned that before,” the aunt recalled. “But why not just go cut some in the mountains? Why spend money?”

Jiang Ji answered, “I need a lot, and I don’t have time to chop them. It’s too much work.”

At home, only he and Jiang Yan had the strength for heavy labor. Cutting down trees, trimming off branches, sharpening the ends—it would take several days. Jiang Ji didn’t want to waste that much time.

A few people working in nearby fields overheard and asked, “Jiang Ji, you’re really going to raise ducks? Won’t they mess up the crops?”

Jiang Ji shook his head. “They shouldn’t. Auntie, are you planning to raise some too?”

“We wouldn’t know how. Let’s see how yours turn out first.”

“That’s fine,” Jiang Ji said with a smile. “I’ll test it out for everyone first.”

Up ahead in the field, Zhao Ru was watering the sweet potatoes and other seedlings. One of the aunts said to her, “Jiang Ji’s mother, your son is really something now—so capable!”

Zhao Ru smiled. “He learned everything from others. He’s just experimenting now—we still don’t know if it’ll work.”

“Ah, you’re bold to let him try! If it doesn’t go well, all that rice could be ruined.”

Zhao Ru kept smiling. “He has to try, doesn’t he? You never know until you do. It’s just the first season—we’ll see how it goes. And who knows? It might work out, right?”

“I just think it’s a bit risky. Our family wouldn’t dare try something like that. But since your household never has to worry about food or money, you can afford to experiment.”

From another field, Xiufang laughed. “Jiang Ji is paving the way for the rest of us! If it works out, we’ll all benefit from his success.”

“That’s right. Let’s just wait and see how it goes.”

After chatting about that, one of the aunts suddenly asked, “Hey, Zhao Ru, what about Jiang Ji’s marriage? What kind of girl does he like? Tell us a little!”

At the mention of this, Zhao Ru looked troubled and sighed. “He says he doesn’t want to marry yet.”

“He says he doesn’t want to marry, and you just let him be? He’s nineteen already—it’s time to start planning.”

Zhao Ru shook her head. “He refused before he even looked at the portrait of the girl they proposed. He really doesn’t seem to have that mindset yet. I can’t force him into marriage if he’s unwilling. I’ll let him be and wait another couple of years.”

“If you wait two more years, he’ll be twenty-one! Come on, if you’re firm with him, he wouldn’t dare go against you.”

Zhao Ru shook her head again. “No, that wouldn’t work. If he doesn’t like the person, the marriage won’t be happy. They’ll just end up quarreling—it’s better not to push it.”

“You’re too soft-hearted. Once he’s got a warm wife in his arms, he won’t be quarreling with you anymore!”

The women all laughed, and Zhao Ru also smiled. “That might be true, but he wants to find someone he genuinely likes. We can wait. A year or two won’t make a difference.”

The chatter in the field was lively, and the women’s voices carried far enough for Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan, standing by the gate, to hear everything.

Jiang Yan glanced at Jiang Ji’s helpless expression and smiled faintly. “Looks like the whole village’s keeping an eye on your marriage prospects.”

Jiang Ji raised an eyebrow, tilted his chin up, and grinned. “Can’t help it. Who told me to be so handsome? I’m a hot commodity.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

He gave him an amused, half-smiling look. Jiang Ji raised a brow. “What? You’re saying I’m not handsome?”

“Handsome—like a little black wild horse,” Jiang Yan replied.

“…What’s that supposed to mean, ‘little black wild horse’?” Jiang Ji looked indignant. “You’re just jealous, you know that? My skin isn’t black—it’s wheat-colored, healthy! Look at it, this tone’s beautiful, people wish they had it. You got that? Do you?”

He rolled up his sleeves, flexing his arm in front of Jiang Yan. “Look at this muscle—solid and perfect. See? Good-looking, right?”

Jiang Yan’s eyes lingered on his arm. Jiang Ji’s years of physical labor had made his muscles compact and smooth. “Mm. Good-looking,” he said.

“Finally, someone who knows quality.” Jiang Ji patted his shoulder. “But I’ll tell you this—your skin’s way too pale. A man doesn’t need to be that white. Get some sun—it’s healthy.”

Jiang Yan smiled faintly and shook his head.

Meanwhile, in Jiang Ji’s livestream, the viewers were laughing so hard they could barely type.

【Hahaha, forcing him to say it’s good-looking】
【I still remember when he asked his little brother if he was too dark】
【He used to care so much about being dark—now he’s just pretending not to】
【Ah, Jiang Yan, you poked right at his sore spot】
【I can’t stop laughing. In Jiang Yan’s eyes, Jiang Ji’s just a wild horse—and a black one at that】
【Heh, wild horses are the best—untamed spirits are exciting】
【Girl above, I feel you】
【Why’s Jiang Yan smiling so dotingly though?】
【I swear, Jiang Yan definitely likes Jiang Ji. The way he looks at him is so gentle sometimes】
【Yeah, totally agree. He probably doesn’t even realize it himself—but we do】
【And Jiang Ji’s definitely into his type—he’s said more than once that Jiang Yan’s handsome. If it were me, I’d have made a move already】
【Problem is, Jiang Yan might already be married. That’s probably why the streamer’s holding back】
【Sigh, when will Jiang Yan get his memory back?】
【If he really is married, Jiang Ji definitely wouldn’t go after him】
【When Jiang Yan remembers, I wonder if it’ll be a happy ending or a tragic one… kind of worried】

*

Life at Jiang Ji’s home was busy as ever—there was always something to do.

At the county office, Lord Chen and Magistrate Xu had already reached an agreement about Jiang Ji’s blueprints. They had hired many master carpenters to start building them, producing one of each to test their effectiveness.

If the results were good, they planned to make all the blueprints public and distribute them across the county, the prefecture, and even the province.

The two officials even made a special trip to Jiang Ji’s home to tell him the news in person—and to check on how his crops were growing.

Jiang Ji led them around the fields and paddies.

The weather was growing warmer, and the crops were thriving.

The potato sprouts had already grown three inches tall; the rice seedlings in the paddy field had poked two inches above the water, with three or four leaves each. The corn and cotton had been sown not long ago, so their shoots hadn’t yet broken through the soil—but when the earth was gently turned, the seeds were already germinating.

The sweet potatoes were growing the best—lush and green, nearly a foot tall.

“In a little while, we’ll be ready to transplant the sweet potato cuttings,” Jiang Ji said with a smile.

“Excellent. They’re growing beautifully,” said Lord Chen, nodding repeatedly. He called someone over with paper and brush to record each crop’s sprouting stage.

Jiang Ji reminded him, “My lord, Jiang Yan has already drawn these. If you’d like, you can have them copied.”

“Really? That’s great. When I return, I’ll review them and add those drawings into your cultivation guide. That’ll make it even clearer for others to understand.”

Jiang Ji nodded. “That’s what we were thinking too.”

Lord Chen looked over at a nearby plot and asked curiously, “What crop is that? I don’t think I’ve seen it before.”

Jiang Ji replied, “That’s tomato—just sprouted.”

“Tomato? A new crop?” Magistrate Xu asked.

Jiang Ji nodded. “Yes. I only had a small amount of seeds, so only three families planted it this time.”

Lord Chen asked, “Is it a vegetable, or can it be used as a staple food?”

“It’s a vegetable, but it can also be eaten raw—like a fruit.”

Lord Chen nodded. “Oh, good. When it’s harvested, I’ll have to come and taste it.”

“You’re most welcome.”

Magistrate Xu pointed toward another patch of seedlings. “And what’s this one? Some kind of leafy green?”

“This is lettuce—a vegetable, yes. It grows quickly; in a little over two months, it’ll be ready for harvest.”

“What about that one?” Lord Chen asked, pointing to another part of the field.

“That’s watermelon—it’s a fruit,” Jiang Ji explained, then took the initiative to introduce the rest: chili peppers, bitter melons, and other crops.

The two officials walked around the fields, hearing the names of many vegetables and fruits they had never encountered before.

“Can all of these be promoted in the future?” Lord Chen asked with interest.

Jiang Ji nodded. “Of course, but it has to be gradual—first fill everyone’s stomachs, then work on enriching the table.”

Lord Chen looked at him, his eyes full of approval. “Well said, Brother Jiang.”

Magistrate Xu suddenly recalled something. “Jiang Ji, when the first rice crop is harvested—if the results are good—will you still be able to get new seeds for the second crop? If we wait until the first harvest before sowing, it’ll definitely affect yield. Or can we only use the old varieties for the second season?”

For the second rice crop, seedlings had to be prepared while harvesting the first. That way, once reaping was done, they could immediately transplant the new seedlings, ensuring enough sunlight and heat throughout the growing season to harvest by October.

Jiang Ji nodded. “I can get the second-season rice seeds too, my lord—no need to worry. I’ll get as many as I can, enough at least for our county.”

“Good.”

The two officials felt relieved. If the first season’s new rice strain proved successful, everyone would surely switch to it for the second crop—meaning demand for the new seeds would multiply.

Lord Chen and Magistrate Xu made another circuit around the fields, then returned without even stopping for lunch. Lord Chen also took with him Jiang Yan’s illustrations of the sowing process and seedling growth.

Back at the county office, Lord Chen wrote a report to the provincial inspector summarizing their progress.

In another room, Magistrate Xu received an official letter from Prefect Hu, asking about the current state of the fields—particularly whether Jiang Ji could supply rice seed for the second crop.

Magistrate Xu pondered for a moment, then brought the letter to Lord Chen.

After reading it, Lord Chen chuckled lightly. “It seems Prefect Hu is still very concerned about the new rice strain and these new crops.”

Magistrate Xu hesitated. “Should I report the truth, then?”

“Yes. I’m already reporting our progress to Lord Fan. Make sure Prefect Hu receives the same information.”

“Understood.”

…

At the prefectural office, a runner came in to announce, “My lord, a letter has arrived from Changping County.”

The clerk took it and handed it to Prefect Hu.

Prefect Hu read it briefly, giving a cold chuckle.

“My lord, what did Magistrate Xu say?” the clerk asked curiously.

Prefect Hu passed him the letter. The clerk read it over, quickly understanding.

Prefect Hu had never gotten over the resentment he felt toward Jiang Ji—first for hiding his merchant identity and refusing to collaborate in business, and then for outsmarting him.

The last time Jiang Ji and his group returned from Huawen County, they detoured through Pingnan and avoided the bandits at Skull Mountain. When Prefect Hu heard about it, he had been so furious he smashed the table in front of him.

After a moment of thought, the clerk said, “My lord, since Jiang Ji can still get rice seeds, this could be our opportunity.”

Prefect Hu shot him a glance. “Didn’t you read the letter? It says he may only have enough for Changping County.”

“Can we really take Jiang Ji’s words at face value? Last time, he claimed he was out of seeds, and then he sold rice seed to six counties. Just a few days ago, he sold corn seed again—enough for ten thousand mu, they say,” the clerk pointed out.

At that, Prefect Hu’s anger flared again. He slammed his palm on the table, spilling tea everywhere. “Send someone to investigate! Find that merchant for me! I want to see how long that brat surnamed Jiang can keep hiding!”

“Yes, my lord.” The clerk replaced the teacup and poured fresh tea, then added, “But doesn’t it seem strange to you?”

“What’s strange?”

“According to reports from the other counties,” the clerk said thoughtfully, “no one ever saw how Jiang Ji transported those seeds. That many seeds should take dozens of carts to move—but not one person saw such a merchant convoy pass through.”

Prefect Hu frowned, recalling the previous county reports. “Didn’t they say Jiang Ji had arranged for a manor outside the city and moved everything there at night?”

“Even if they went at night, wouldn’t they still have to travel the main roads by day?” the clerk reasoned. “Jiang Ji claimed the goods came from the south. If that’s true, to reach Changping, Pingnan, and Huawen Counties, they would’ve had to pass through Anhe County. Yet no one there saw a convoy that large. And considering he sold to seven counties in total—how many merchants would that require to haul all those goods? Every time Jiang Ji arrived somewhere, the seeds appeared the very next day. Isn’t that strange?”

Prefect Hu thought for a moment. “So what are you implying?”

The clerk replied, “My lord, think about it. If the seeds truly came from the south, it would take time. From the day he sold the seeds in Changping to the time they were available in other counties—it wasn’t many days at all. Even with urgent couriers, there’s no way they could’ve delivered seeds that fast.”

Prefect Hu’s expression shifted slightly as the clerk went on. “Our southern province borders Lin Prefecture. I checked—Lin Prefecture doesn’t even have sweet potatoes. The next one further south would be Li Prefecture, and traveling from there to us would take at least seven or eight days. And that’s without hauling heavy cargo. A round trip for communication alone would take half a month.”

“And besides,” the clerk continued, “even setting aside whether Li Prefecture has sweet potatoes or new rice strains—if it did, wouldn’t the court have already issued an edict to promote them across the empire?”

Prefect Hu nodded. “That makes sense. So where exactly did he get these new rice seeds and sweet potatoes?”

The clerk shook his head. “No idea. My guess is that either they were newly discovered somewhere in the south—or they aren’t from our Dasheng at all. But if they were a new discovery, the local county or prefectural offices would have already reported it to the court. Could it be that the news hasn’t reached the capital yet, and Jiang Ji somehow got them first?”

“Impossible,” Prefect Hu dismissed that thought immediately. “Any official who stumbled upon something that valuable would understand its importance to the empire. There’s no way they’d let some traveling merchant buy it up and haul it out first.”

“Yes, my lord. The source of these seeds is only one issue,” the clerk went on. “The other problem is what we mentioned before—how did this merchant supposedly transport so much seed unnoticed? A merchant convoy that large shouldn’t be invisible to everyone.”

Prefect Hu thought for a moment, then said, “I have some acquaintances among the prefects in Lin Prefecture and Li Prefecture. I’ll write to them and ask directly.”

“My lord,” the clerk hesitated, “what if these things aren’t from our Dasheng at all…?”

Prefect Hu’s eyes widened. “You mean from the Kingdom of Lai?”

“No, no,” he shook his head again, frowning. “The Kingdom of Lai lies south of our Dasheng, separated by a wide river and hundreds of li of rugged mountains. The terrain there is nearly impassable—it’s impossible these could’ve been brought from that side. And with the southern border guarded by the General of Zhen’nan, no one could possibly slip past his watch.”

“Quite right, my lord. The southern border seems unlikely,” the clerk said, falling into thought. “Then I really can’t imagine how these sweet potatoes came to be here.”

Prefect Hu was silent for a moment before saying, “In any case, he’ll have to transport seeds again in two months, won’t he? We’ll send people to investigate then.”

“Yes, my lord.”

*

The busy days passed quickly, and it was finally time to transplant the sweet potato cuttings.

In Jiang Ji’s village, everyone had started their seedlings on the same day as his family, so they had all grown to roughly the same stage.

Jiang Ji notified the village chief ahead of time to have everyone prepare their fields. Soon, the whole village was out working—turning the soil, building ridges, ready for planting. On the day of transplantation, everyone gathered at Jiang Ji’s home to watch how he did it.

Crouching on the ground with scissors in hand, Jiang Ji demonstrated. “Cut here with the scissors, remove the lower leaves—be careful to leave just a tiny bit here, don’t damage this node where the roots will sprout. Keep two or three leaves and the tip. Then, with the leaves facing upward, bury the vine diagonally into the soil—about one foot apart between each plant. Press the soil down firmly, then water it.”

“Pick the thicker, sturdier vines for planting. Leave the rest to grow a little longer—if you plant them a few days later, it’s fine. Once you’re all done, you can even sell the extra vines.”

It was simple, and everyone understood quickly. They hurried back to their own plots to start cutting.

The Jiang family had two mu of sweet potatoes to plant. It happened to be a rest day for the village school, so Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei stayed home to watch the house while the others went to work the fields.

Cutting vines, planting, watering—the four of them worked busily all morning and finished planting their two mu of land.

Their field bordered a water channel, so Jiang Ji simply dug an opening to divert the water directly into the plot—no need to haul buckets back and forth.

He also tied the ladle to a long bamboo pole, so he could scoop water while standing upright instead of bending over. It made things much easier.

He had actually wanted to exchange for some modern plastic ladles—they were lighter, tougher, and far more convenient than gourd scoops—but since plastic didn’t exist in this world, he couldn’t risk taking them out.

Jiang Ji took off his shoes and socks, stepping barefoot into the cool water. When he saw Xia’er and Zhao Ru about to wade in too, he quickly said, “Xia’er, Mother, let me do the watering. Don’t come in—it’s cold. You’ll catch a chill.”

The weather was still a bit cool, and Zhao Ru’s health was frail. Catching cold would not be worth it.

Zhao Ru frowned. “But there are two mu of land.”

“It’s fine. We don’t need to haul water—it’ll be done soon. You two go back and start lunch.”

Jiang Yan added, “Auntie, go ahead. The two of us can handle it—it’ll be quick.”

Zhao Ru looked at the flowing water and nodded—it really did save a lot of effort. “All right, we’ll go prepare the meal first.”

She took Xia’er and went home. Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan stayed behind, scooping and watering the field.

“Jiang Yan, pretty smart of me to buy this land, huh? We can flood it directly from the channel—saves so much work.”

He had picked this plot precisely because it bordered the irrigation ditch, unlike their old land, which required carrying water by hand.

Jiang Yan glanced at the villagers in the distance carrying water to their gardens and smiled. “Good foresight.”

“Of course.” Jiang Ji’s pride showed plainly on his face.

Not long after the sweet potatoes were planted, the tomatoes and watermelons were ready for transplanting. The Jiang family had two mu of tomatoes and four mu of watermelons, which took three full days to finish.

Soon after, it was time to transplant the rice seedlings as well, and every household became busy again.

The Jiang family owned over twenty mu of paddy fields—too much to handle alone. They managed to plant about four or five mu themselves.

Once the other families had finished their own fields, Jiang Ji hired some of the villagers to help and, after two more days, got the rest planted.

For the paddies designated for raising fish, they left the edges open and didn’t transplant rice there. The villagers helped dig channels and pile the mud onto the ridges. At the head of the field, they dug a small pond to prepare for fish farming.

“You’re going to raise ducks and fish in all twenty mu?” Uncle Tu Gen asked, sounding worried. “You’re not leaving even a few mu aside?”

Jiang Ji shook his head. “No need—I don’t have enough fertilizer anyway.”

Uncle Tu Gen sighed. He thought Jiang Ji was being a bit too bold. And besides, the fish fields had so many ditches dug along the edges that several rows of rice yield would be lost.

Once the rice seedlings were transplanted, Jiang Ji invited Uncle Tu Gen and the others to help him set up the fish nets. They divided the paddy field into two sections—one for fish and one for ducks—then drove wooden stakes into the four sides and secured the nets in place.

He also built two duck sheds at the edge of the duck field so the ducks could rest and stay cool.

With all the preparations finished, they just had to wait about a week after the seedlings took root before releasing the fish and ducks.

During that time, as the other counties finished planting their rice and sweet potatoes, Jiang Ji’s sweet potato promotion mission also reached fifty thousand mu, unlocking a new reward.

Beginner, intermediate, and advanced culinary skills.

The next day at noon, Jiang Ji showcased his new cooking talent. Using ingredients exchanged from the system, he made beer-braised duck, spicy poached pork slices, grilled fish, and twice-cooked pork, plus a plate of stir-fried greens.

Everyone was stunned.

Jiang Ji set down the vegetables on the table. “All done! Come on, try it. I just learned these cooking skills—see if it tastes good.”

“Wow, brother, it smells amazing!” Jiang Nan sniffed eagerly. “Just smelling it makes my mouth water.”

“It’s the food that smells good, not big brother,” Jiang Bei corrected him, pointing curiously. “Brother, these red bits—are they chili peppers?”

“Yes. I figured you couldn’t handle spicy food, so I only used a little.” Jiang Ji pointed to a few bowls at the side. “Those don’t have chili in them. Jiang Nan, Jiang Bei, if you can’t take spicy, eat those.”

“Then what’s this green thing?” Jiang Nan asked, pointing at the green peppers in the twice-cooked pork.

“That’s green pepper—it’s just chili before it turns red. It’s edible too,” Jiang Ji said. “Come on, dig in.”

Everyone picked up their chopsticks.

Zhao Ru picked a piece of beer-braised duck. The meat was golden, tender, and free of any gamey smell, carrying a faint aroma of alcohol. There was a touch of numbing from Sichuan peppercorns and a stimulating flavor—must be the spice Jiang Ji mentioned.

“How is it?” Jiang Ji asked eagerly.

“Delicious—very flavorful.” Zhao Ru nodded, then picked up a piece of red chili. “Let me try what the chili tastes like.”

Before Jiang Ji could stop her, Zhao Ru had already eaten it.

“Mm—!” Zhao Ru furrowed her brows, fanning her mouth as she exhaled sharply. Jiang Ji hurriedly poured her a cup of water.

After drinking half the cup, Zhao Ru asked, “So this is what spicy means?”

“Yup.”

Jiang Yan also picked a piece, though his was from the twice-cooked pork. “This one isn’t as spicy. If you want to taste it, try this kind.”

“Brother Yan, you’ve had it before?” Jiang Xia asked, then curiously took a bite of green pepper herself. “Wow, this flavor—it’s so intense…”

“Mm. Back at the manor, your brother had me try spicy food once,” Jiang Yan said, glancing at Jiang Ji. “But it wasn’t this kind of green pepper.”

“I wanna try too!” Jiang Nan said excitedly, grabbing a piece of pepper.

“Just bite a tiny bit first,” Jiang Ji warned.

Jiang Nan ignored him and took a huge bite. After two chews, he spat it out, gasping and fanning his mouth, eyes watering.

“Quick, eat some rice!” Jiang Ji said, handing him water.

Jiang Bei, the more cautious one, only bit a tiny piece, tasted it, and then stuck to eating the meat.

Once Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia recovered, they stayed away from peppers altogether, leaving only Jiang Yan still eating calmly—he didn’t seem very afraid of the heat and ate quite a lot.

“Even though the chili’s spicy, the meat tastes better with that little bit of kick,” Jiang Xia said as she ate the twice-cooked pork. “It’s really flavorful—goes perfectly with rice.”

“This meat’s so good too,” Jiang Nan said, happily eating from the spicy poached pork dish. The meat slices were tender, and both twins loved them.

“Try the fish—it’s delicious too!” Jiang Xia pointed, then turned to Jiang Ji with a big thumbs-up. “Brother, you’re amazing—you cook even better than Mother now!”

Jiang Ji grinned. “Of course. The immortals taught me, after all.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

He tried every dish. Each one was superb—the duck tender and savory, the twice-cooked pork fragrant but not greasy, the poached pork silky soft, the fish richly seasoned, and even the stir-fried greens were crisp and fresh.

He glanced at Jiang Ji, and for a moment, he almost believed his story about being taught by immortals.

After all, just a month ago, when they were at the manor, Jiang Ji could barely cook. According to him, those were his first attempts—his stewed potatoes with meat were trial and error, and his stir-fried greens were merely passable.

Yet now, after not cooking once since returning home, he suddenly displayed such refined culinary skill. Unless he really had divine help, it was hard to explain.

Jiang Nan exclaimed excitedly, “Brother, the immortals are awesome—they even taught you how to cook!”

“Yeah. I’ll cook for you guys whenever I have time,” Jiang Ji said, smiling. “In a while, I’ll make roast duck for you—it’s delicious.”

“Yes! Yes!” Jiang Nan cheered. “I’ve never eaten roasted duck before!”

Jiang Bei got even more excited. “Let’s have it tonight!”

Jiang Ji knocked him lightly on the head. “The oven isn’t even built yet. I have to make it first before we can roast duck.”

Jiang Yan looked at him and asked, “You’re planning to sell it, aren’t you?”

If it was just for the family, he wouldn’t need to go to the trouble of building an oven.

“Smart,” Jiang Ji said with a grin. “If our duck-raising experiment in the rice fields succeeds, others will follow. That means there’ll be lots of ducks. Someone has to buy them, right? Otherwise, what—everyone eats duck every day? So we’ll create new recipes. Once they get popular in town, people will start buying ducks to cook themselves, and the villagers won’t have trouble selling them.”

“Not just ducks—fish too,” Jiang Ji continued, eyes bright with ideas. “We can open a shop that specializes in duck and fish dishes. I know lots of new ways to cook them. We’ll attract plenty of customers and help sell all those ducks and fish.”

Jiang Yan paused for a moment, then his eyes slowly lit up.

He hadn’t expected Jiang Ji to think so far ahead—not only spreading the rice field duck and fish method to others, but also anticipating the surplus problem that would follow. And he had already found a solution—one that would both help the villagers and bring him profit.

Jiang Yan looked at Jiang Ji deeply, his eyes warm and shining with admiration.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

“2977, since there’s a task that grants a Primary Skill Learning Blueprint, doesn’t that mean there are also Intermediate and Advanced ones?” There were too many tasks, and Jiang Ji was too lazy to look through them one by one, so he asked directly.

【Special Task 122: Completing it grants an Intermediate Skill Learning Blueprint. Special Task 164: Completing it grants an Advanced Skill Learning Blueprint.】

Jiang Ji flipped to 【Special Task 122】: Educate your family about gender equality—girls can also study, do business, and hold official positions. Women should have independent and self-reliant ways of thinking.

【Special Task 164】: Educate your family about the concept of monogamy.

Jiang Ji raised his eyebrows. For Task 122, in this era, the idea of women holding office was out of reach—the imperial court wasn’t that open-minded, and he couldn’t make that happen now. But as for the other parts, those were completely doable.

As for monogamy, what other families did wasn’t his concern, but within his own household, he could at least promote it.

Besides, the system only required him to spread the idea, not necessarily realize it.

These two tasks were simple.

Jiang Ji then looked at the other tasks. Among the regular ones, as planting across the various counties had been completed, he had already finished quite a few. He had been so busy lately that he hadn’t even had time to collect many of the rewards.

The three rice promotion tasks were complete, corresponding to the Primary, Intermediate, and Advanced Textile Skills.

The three cotton promotion tasks—1,000 mu, 10,000 mu, and 50,000 mu—were also completed, corresponding to blueprints for a cotton ginning machine, spinning machine, and weaving machine.

As for sweet potatoes, the 50,000 mu task hadn’t started yet since the cuttings hadn’t been planted. Only the first 1,000 mu task had been completed, with the reward being the Primary Cooking Skill.

For potatoes, the largest task of 50,000 mu hadn’t been completed yet. The 1,000 and 10,000 mu milestones were done, rewarding two improved blueprints for a rake and a winnowing machine. Over 20,000 mu still remained.

Corn could be intercropped with soybeans and peanuts, so many people bought the seeds. But in later counties, Jiang Ji hadn’t sold much corn seed. Across seven counties combined, over 41,000 mu had been planted, granting him two farm tool blueprints, both related to rice harvesting—two types of paddy bed blueprints.

He checked the reward for the 50,000 mu corn task—it was the blueprint for a foot-operated threshing machine.

A threshing machine—Jiang Ji’s eyes lit up. That was an essential tool for harvesting rice.

Right now, they harvested rice mostly by hand or by beating it manually—inefficient and exhausting.

Jiang Ji checked his points. His live broadcasts now drew over ten million viewers daily. If a stream made it onto the trending list, like yesterday’s matchmaking discussion, viewership could exceed thirty million. That meant at least two to three hundred thousand points a day.

He had previously used up all his points, but since returning, he’d accumulated quite a bit again.

There were nearly 9,000 mu of corn left—enough to buy seeds. The remaining points he’d save for purchasing second-season rice seeds.

He claimed all his pending rewards, plowed the fields in the morning, and in the afternoon, went to the county office to find Lord Chen, who had been working there recently.

“My lord, I can still prepare seeds for another 10,000 mu of corn. If we plant them by May at the latest, it’ll still be fine. Please lend me a warehouse for two days so that buyers from other counties can come purchase them. First come, first served.”

Lord Chen was delighted and immediately arranged it.

*

That evening after dinner, the Jiang family gathered in the main hall again—some doing homework, some sewing clothes.

Jiang Yan continued copying down planting methods, while Jiang Ji took out pencils and an eraser to draw blueprints of farming tools according to the system’s diagrams.

Jiang Yan glanced over and asked, “What are you drawing?”

“A paddy bed—it’s used for threshing rice,” Jiang Ji replied.

Jiang Yan frowned. “We don’t already have something like that at home?”

“We do, a grain tub—but it’s too simple. The one I’m drawing can be used inside it and will work better. There’s an even more efficient version I’ll have soon.”

Zhao Ru came over when she heard the term “paddy bed.” “This goes inside the grain tub?”

“Yes, it’ll work a bit faster than the one we use now.”

“Then we should make it now, so it’ll be ready for harvest time.”

“Exactly, we need to prepare early.”

While Jiang Nan and the others were doing homework, the conversation shifted back to Jiang Ji’s matchmaking incident. Their friends had already heard about it and kept asking Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei about it.

Jiang Nan, holding a brush with ink-stained fingers, scrawled a crooked character and said, “Not just our village—other villages know too. That kid Xiaosong from the next village even asked us what kind of girl our brother likes. He said his big sister is fifteen already and could become our sister-in-law.”

Jiang Ji was speechless. From the side, Jiang Yan asked, “Who’s Xiaosong?”

Zhao Ru paused her sewing and replied, “The family at the head of the next village—you can see their house from ours. They have three daughters. The second one was divorced by her husband last summer. He said she couldn’t give him a son and wouldn’t let him take a concubine, and that she was disrespectful to her in-laws. In truth, he was just finding an excuse to get rid of her. Sigh, she threw herself into the river after coming home. None of her brothers went to demand justice from her husband’s family. Luckily, she was rescued, but now she doesn’t dare go out, afraid of gossip.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Jiang Ji grew angry hearing that. “Not being able to give birth to a son isn’t her fault—it’s a matter of probability, and it’s actually the man’s issue.”

“Huh?” Zhao Ru looked up, surprised. “It’s the man’s issue?”

Everyone turned to stare at Jiang Ji, including Jiang Yan.

In this society, whenever a couple couldn’t conceive, the woman was blamed. If a son wasn’t born, it was also the woman’s fault. Everyone took that as common sense.

Jiang Ji looked up at them, thought for a moment, and explained seriously, “The immortals have studied this clearly. When a couple can’t have children, it might be because of the man’s body, or it might be the woman’s. But whether a child is a boy or a girl—that’s decided by the man, not the woman.”

Everyone was hearing this explanation for the first time and looked at him in shock.

Jiang Yan asked curiously, “But what about those families where the wife can’t give birth to a son, yet the concubine does? How do you explain that?”

“This still has nothing to do with the woman. Let me think of how to explain it.” Jiang Ji thought for a moment, then said, “Come here, I’ll draw you a picture so you’ll understand.”

Everyone gathered around the big table, and Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei leaned in as well.

Jiang Ji picked up his notebook, flipped to a blank page, and wrote the characters for male and female. “The reason we humans have two sexes—male and female—is because of what’s called sex chromosomes in our bodies.”

“What body?” Jiang Xia asked, confused.

“Sex chromosomes. You don’t need to understand the details, just know what they are.” Jiang Ji wrote XY under male and XX under female. “Males are this, females are this. Can you see the difference?”

Even Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei could tell. Jiang Bei pointed at the paper and said, “These two are the same, but this one is different.”

“Right,” Jiang Ji nodded. “That little fork-shaped part that’s different is what decides whether a baby is a boy or a girl. Males have two different sex chromosomes, while females only have one type, X.”

He drew a line under the Y and continued explaining, “When a man and a woman come together, the man’s sperm enters the woman’s body. When it meets her egg cell and fertilization happens, a child is conceived.”

Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia blushed but kept watching. Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei were simply curious and didn’t understand much, while Jiang Yan stayed composed, even showing a bit of scholarly interest.

Jiang Ji glanced around at everyone and went on, “During fertilization, a man’s sperm can carry either an X or a Y chromosome.” He separated the XY below and wrote X and Y as two letters. “These go to meet the woman’s X chromosome.”

“If the man’s X meets the woman’s X, a girl is born. If the little fork-shaped Y meets her X, a boy is born. Got it?”

He drew a few lines to demonstrate the process.

Jiang Yan looked at the two resulting combinations on the paper, compared them with the XY and XX above, and thought for a moment. “So, are there equal amounts of the fork-shaped ones and the cross-shaped ones?”

“Yes, equal amounts,” Jiang Ji nodded. “So whether a child is a boy or a girl has nothing to do with the woman. It’s determined by the man’s fork-shaped chromosome—it’s just a matter of probability, a fifty-fifty chance.”

Jiang Yan looked from the paper to Jiang Ji, thoughtful.
Where had he learned all this? Could it really be knowledge from the immortals?

Zhao Ru then asked, “Then why are there some people who can’t have children at all?”

Jiang Ji scratched his head. “That depends on the body—many possible reasons. The immortals didn’t tell me the details. But look, the little crosses or fork-shaped ones have to successfully combine with the woman’s cross for a baby to be conceived. If it doesn’t happen, it means the combination failed—so one or both people’s bodies have some kind of problem.”

Jiang Xia suddenly understood. “Then in Xiaosong’s family, his second aunt not being able to have a son wasn’t her fault!”

“Right—it was just luck,” Jiang Ji nodded.

【Congratulations to the host for completing Special Task 48. Reward: Primary Knitting Skill.】

The electronic voice of 2977 sounded in his mind. Jiang Ji raised his brows.

Huh? He had coincidentally completed another task?

A knitting skill? That would actually be useful in the winter.

Suddenly, he became quite interested in these science education tasks—they were much easier than exhausting himself promoting new seeds.

Thinking about the rewards for the Intermediate and Advanced Learning Blueprints, Jiang Ji decided to finish those two tasks tonight.

“Mother, just now you said Xiaosong’s second aunt’s husband wanted to take a concubine?”

Zhao Ru nodded. “Yes, she’d been married for seven or eight years without having a son. Her husband’s family got anxious, afraid their family line would end, so they wanted him to take a concubine.”

“Girls can carry on the family line too,” Jiang Ji snorted. “From now on, in our family, no one is allowed to take concubines. You must marry someone you love to be happy. If the marriage doesn’t work out, you can divorce—and after that, you can remarry—but no concubines. Jiang Nan, Jiang Bei, did you hear that?”

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei were still too young to understand, but to them, whatever their eldest brother said was right. They nodded together. “Got it.”

Zhao Ru glanced at her son. As a woman, she naturally knew how unfair concubinage was, but in this world, men who were truly devoted to one woman were rare. Most poor men didn’t take concubines only because they couldn’t afford it. Among the wealthy, almost none refrained—they were full of scheming hearts.

She sighed. “You can tell them that now, but when they grow up, who knows what they’ll do.”

“Then we’ll write it into the family rules,” Jiang Ji said seriously. “Anyone who takes a concubine will be kicked out of this family. Live on your own—don’t bother anyone else.”

The whole family was stunned. Even Jiang Yan looked up in surprise.

Zhao Ru froze for a moment. “Do you really need to be that strict?”

“Yes,” Jiang Ji said firmly. “As the saying goes, a harmonious family prospers. Having multiple wives and concubines only causes conflict. Everyone has selfish desires—how could the house stay peaceful like that? You’d end up arguing every day, plotting against each other until it drives everyone mad. If a family isn’t peaceful, how can anyone be happy? I can’t control other families, but ours will be like this.”

Zhao Ru frowned slightly. “But what if there are no children?”

“Then adopt or have someone carry on the name,” Jiang Ji said, unconcerned about the idea of heirs. “Besides, it’s not like Xia, Nan, and Bei will all end up childless.”

Jiang Yan glanced at him. He didn’t even mention himself—he’d neatly excluded his own case.

Zhao Ru: “…”

Jiang Xia, however, looked at her eldest brother with bright eyes full of admiration.

Jiang Ji turned to her and said seriously, “Xia’er, remember this. If you marry someday and your husband ever wants to take a concubine, never wrong yourself for him. Such a man isn’t worth your feelings or your life. Don’t be afraid—divorce him and come home. Your family will always be your support.”

A warmth welled up in Jiang Xia’s heart. She nodded earnestly. “Okay, I understand.”

Jiang Ji frowned again. “Or better yet, you could find a husband to join our family. That way, you’ll stay right under my watch, and no one will ever dare bully you.”

Zhao Ru: “…You child, talking nonsense about things that haven’t even happened.”

“I’m just preventing trouble before it starts,” Jiang Ji said.

Jiang Xia couldn’t help smiling brightly, and Zhao Ru felt comforted seeing her like that.

The world was far too harsh toward women. A woman’s greatest fear was marrying the wrong man—unable to divorce, or even if she did, she would be scorned by society, pointed at behind her back. Many women endured misery for a lifetime. Even their own families often despised daughters who were divorced, believing such daughters brought shame upon them.

But what her son had said truly touched Zhao Ru’s heart.

In a few years, Xia’er would also have to marry. As a mother, Zhao Ru’s greatest fear was her daughter marrying poorly and being mistreated by her in-laws. Now that Xiao Ji had spoken so firmly, she felt reassured. Even if her daughter were wronged, she could still return home—at least her brother wouldn’t despise her.

Jiang Ji took a sip of water and continued, “Do you know? In the world of immortals, they all practice monogamy. Taking concubines is not allowed.”

Jiang Xia’s eyes widened. “Really? That’s amazing!”

“Yes,” Jiang Ji nodded. “Monogamy is written into their laws. Anyone who dares to take a concubine is breaking the law and will be punished.”

…The world of immortals?

Jiang Yan gave Jiang Ji a glance but didn’t interrupt him. Everything Jiang Ji said tonight was completely new to him—utterly fascinating.

Jiang Ji went on, “And not only monogamy. In that world, women and men have equal rights. Women can study, run businesses, and serve as officials. Anything a man can do, a woman can also do.”

Jiang Xia was shocked. “Women can be officials too?”

“Yes. Women can hold up half the sky. Some become teachers to educate others. Some love plants and open flower shops or work as gardeners. Some design buildings as architects. Some serve the people as officials. Some love making pastries and open their own shops… In short, there are countless professions, and women can be seen in every one of them.”

Jiang Xia’s eyes sparkled. “That really is the world of immortals! It sounds wonderful!”

“Mm. So, Xia’er,” Jiang Ji said, looking at his sister, “even though you’re a girl, our family doesn’t follow those outdated ‘three obediences and four virtues.’ You don’t have to stay confined in the women’s quarters. Whatever you want to learn, go learn it. Whatever you want to do, go do it. Your brother will support you.”

Jiang Xia nodded vigorously. “I want to be like Shopkeeper Sun.”

“Shopkeeper Sun?” Jiang Ji thought for a moment, then remembered—it was the woman who ran the clothing shop. “You want to be a shopkeeper, Xia’er?”

Jiang Xia’s cheeks flushed pink as she nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“Then study hard. You’ll need to learn arithmetic, accounting, and management. When you’ve mastered them, once we open a cloth store, I’ll give you a shop of your own to manage.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“Brother, I’ll study really hard!”

Jiang Nan suddenly piped up, “Brother, I want to be a shopkeeper too!”

Jiang Ji looked at Jiang Nan, stroked his chin, and said, “It’s not impossible, but you’ll need the skills for it. You’ll have to study hard.”

“I am studying hard!” Jiang Nan said, holding up his hand. “See? I’ve written so much my hand’s gone black with ink!”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Good. Keep at it. Work harder, and you’ll become a shopkeeper someday.”

“Okay! I’ll go write more right now!” Jiang Nan jumped off the stool and went back to his homework.

Jiang Ji then turned to Jiang Bei. “Jiang Bei, what do you want to do in the future?”

Jiang Bei smiled softly, his lips curling up, and said in a small voice, “I want to be the top scholar.”

“What?” Jiang Ji rubbed his ear. “Speak up, I didn’t hear you.”

Jiang Bei clenched his fists and shouted, “I said—I want to be the top scholar!”

The whole family was stunned. Jiang Ji said, “Didn’t expect that—the one with the biggest dream in this family is Jiang Bei. Impressive.”

Everyone laughed and looked at Jiang Bei fondly.

Jiang Bei blushed with embarrassment. Jiang Ji patted his head encouragingly. “Go for it, Jiang Bei. You can do it. We all believe in you!”

Jiang Bei looked up at his brother, his little face serious. “I’ll study hard and bring home the top scholar title for our family!”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Good. I believe you. You can do it!”

Jiang Bei grinned widely, slid off his stool, and ran back to his small desk to continue writing.

Jiang Nan glanced at his twin brother and whispered, “Jiang Bei, are you stupid?”

Jiang Bei looked puzzled. “Why would I be stupid?”

“Our teacher hasn’t even become a top scholar,” Jiang Nan said. “Couldn’t you say you’ll become a scholar or something more realistic?”

“But I want to be the top scholar,” Jiang Bei insisted.

Jiang Nan sighed like a little old man. “Ugh, you little bookworm. You’ve only been studying for a few days, and you’re already bragging. Do you think becoming a top scholar is that easy? What if you don’t pass later, huh?”

Jiang Bei: “…I will be the top scholar! I definitely will!”

Jiang Nan nearly fainted from his little brother’s stubbornness. “Fine, fine, go ahead and take the exam then.”

The adults around the table all laughed warmly at the twins’ banter.

【Congratulations to the host for completing Special Tasks 122 and 164, and receiving the Intermediate Skill Learning Blueprint and the Advanced Skill Learning Blueprint, respectively.】

The voice of 2977 sounded in Jiang Ji’s mind. His eyes lit up—completed!

Doing science education tasks like this was really too easy. It seemed he could take on more of these and earn extra rewards.

After all, having more skills never hurt anyone.

…

The next day, Lord Chen sent word that he had arranged a warehouse for Jiang Ji on the outskirts of the city.

The following morning, Jiang Ji took Jiang Yan there to organize the seeds.

Pingnan County was the closest one to them. Previously, only about half the households there had managed to buy corn seed, and many others hadn’t been able to get any.

When they heard there were more seeds available, the county magistrate personally came with his men to buy some, taking away over half of the stock. Later, a second county came and bought up the rest.

Jiang Yan asked curiously, “Why didn’t you sell them before? Why suddenly sell enough for ten thousand mu now?”

“I didn’t have that much before when I went to their area. Now that I do, I might as well sell it,” Jiang Ji replied.

A few days later, the corn 50,000-mu milestone lit up, and Jiang Ji immediately claimed the reward—the blueprint for the threshing machine.

That evening, he took a blank sheet of paper and began to draw. Jiang Yan came over to look. “What’s this one?”

“A threshing machine—for processing rice.”

“Didn’t you already draw the paddy bed?”

Over the past few nights, Jiang Ji had been sketching several blueprints—paddy beds, winnowing machines, and other farm tools.

“This one’s even better. Once I finish drawing it, you’ll understand.”

Half an hour later, Jiang Ji put down his brush. “Done.”

Jiang Yan took the drawing, studied it, and his eyes gradually brightened. “This part here—it can spin, right?”

“Smart!” Jiang Ji said with a grin.

Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia also leaned in to look.

Jiang Ji smiled and explained, “This is called a foot-pedal threshing machine. You step on this pedal, which turns this wheel. The wheel drives the rollers inside to spin rapidly, and when you feed the rice in, it threshes the grains very quickly.”

Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia were still trying to picture how it moved, but Jiang Yan already understood. “Not bad. Are you planning to make and sell these?”

“I’ll definitely make one, but I don’t have enough time to build it myself. And I don’t completely trust working with others.”

Jiang Ji scratched his head and said, “I’m thinking of giving all these blueprints to Magistrate Xu. If he makes them public for free, it’ll count as a contribution to the people. If he partners with carpenters to produce them, they can be sold cheaply, which helps spread them faster to other places. In that case, we could take a small profit—say, ten or twenty percent. What do you think?”

Jiang Yan thought for a moment. “If you partner with others, you could ask for a higher share. Don’t you want to make money?”

Jiang Ji said, “These are farm tools—farmers don’t have much money to begin with. Look at this foot-pedal threshing machine—it’s probably only affordable for landlords. Ordinary villagers could only buy something simple like a paddy bed. Anyone with a bit of carpentry skill could even make one themselves.”

“We don’t need to squeeze money out of the farmers. They’re already too poor. Aside from selling them seeds, we won’t profit from them. I’ve got other ways to earn from the wealthy in town—their pockets are where the real profits are.”

Hearing that, Jiang Yan looked at him thoughtfully. If what he said was true, Jiang Ji was helping farmers make money while planning to profit from the rich—a clever balance.

“Alright, let’s do it your way,” Jiang Yan said.

…

The next day, Jiang Ji took his drawings to see Magistrate Xu and handed over all the blueprints he’d made over the past few days.

Coincidentally, Lord Chen was also there. Both men’s eyes lit up as they looked through the drawings.

Not only had Jiang Ji drawn the designs for multiple tools, but he had also detailed the construction process, measurements, and proportions.

Lord Chen asked in astonishment, “You came up with all of this yourself?”

Jiang Ji nodded, pointing to the papers. “Some of these are based on existing simple designs that I improved. This winnowing machine I also modified. This one here is called the Archimedean screw pump—it’s used for irrigation, to lift water from lower ground to higher ground. It should be buildable. And this, the foot-pedal threshing machine, is for harvesting rice—it can quickly remove grains from stalks. The structure’s a little complicated, but it works great. My lords, you could have carpenters try making them.”

Magistrate Xu nodded. “I’ll immediately summon the best carpenters in town.”

Lord Chen looked at Jiang Ji and asked, “You’re just giving us these blueprints? You don’t plan to make money from them?”

Jiang Ji smiled. “My lords, if you make them public and let everyone use them freely, I’ll count it as a contribution to the people. If you cooperate with craftsmen to sell them, I’ll take a twenty-percent share. As for how to use the designs, that’s for you to decide.”

Lord Chen and Magistrate Xu exchanged glances and smiled.

“Oh, right—one condition,” Jiang Ji added.

Magistrate Xu said, “Go on.”

Jiang Ji blinked. “If these machines are successfully built, gift me one winnowing machine, two foot-pedal threshers, and two water pumps. Our village has some high land that water can’t reach—we’ve been carrying buckets uphill, and it’s exhausting.”

Lord Chen immediately nodded. “Deal. You have my word.”

“Then, Lord Chen, Magistrate Xu, take your time studying how to use them. I have other matters to attend to, so I’ll take my leave.”

After leaving the county office, Jiang Ji went to the market, bought some meat and vegetables, and started heading home.

On the road, he chatted with his livestream audience.

【Why don’t you ask them to help you make the cotton gin and spinning machines too?】
【Doesn’t he not have the blueprints yet? He hasn’t drawn them.】
【He does, doesn’t he? They’re related to the cotton promotion tasks.】

Jiang Ji strolled leisurely, replying, “Even if I have the blueprints, I won’t give them away. Have you all forgotten? I’m planning to open a factory. The cotton gin, the improved spinning machine, and the loom—those are part of my core competitive edge. If I give them to Magistrate Xu now and they get spread around, I’ll lose my advantage. I’ll hold off for a couple of years. Once my factory is up and running and firmly established, we can talk about it again.”

【I thought you were really that selfless.】

【Hahaha, he already said it—he’s going to make money off the rich.】

【If you’re opening a textile factory, the machines alone aren’t the most important thing. The real core is making better-quality cloth!】

“I know. I already have the textile technology in my head. I’m just waiting for those three machines to be built.”

【What are those three machines related to?】

【You haven’t drawn the blueprints yet, right?】

“They’re tied to the cotton promotion tasks. I’ve already completed them, and I have the blueprints—I just haven’t drawn them out yet.”

【So the blueprints already exist, huh?】

【But if you ask someone else to build the cotton gin and all that, won’t the carpenter also learn how to make them? He’d definitely sell them to others.】

【Yeah, once the carpenter figures it out, he’ll definitely start selling them too.】

“I’ll make them myself.”

【You know carpentry?】

【He made that bamboo sprayer and the toilet trough, remember?】

【That was simple—barely counts as carpentry. I watched it once and could make it myself.】

Jiang Ji: “…I have a secret weapon.”

【What secret weapon?】

“Not telling you. You’ll find out later.”

【Ah, I get it! It must be a reward from one of those special tasks—like those learning blueprints, right?】

Jiang Ji: “…” You’ve got a good memory.

【I’m more curious about how you’re going to make money from the rich.】

【Yeah, how exactly are you planning to do that?】

“Not telling you yet.”

When he got home, he happened to run into Wu Er and the others delivering manure before heading back. Jiang Ji stopped them and renewed their manure delivery contract for another year.

…

After dinner that evening, Jiang Ji discussed plans with his family. “Once our new house is finished, we’ll still have about ten mu of empty land next to it. We won’t need it right away, so I’m thinking of planting fruit trees. We can also plant some in the yard. What fruits do you all want to eat?”

Jiang Nan raised his hand. “Watermelon!”

Jiang Ji flicked his forehead. “Watermelons go in the fields.”

Jiang Bei raised his hand. “Persimmons!”

Jiang Xia thought for a moment. “Oranges? Dates?”

Jiang Ji shook his head helplessly. They had eaten so few fruits in their lives—mostly wild ones from the mountains—so he decided to redeem some fruits from the system.

He exchanged for small baskets of grapes, peaches, apples, pears, oranges, loquats, pomelos, kiwis, and lychees.

“Try them all. Tell me which ones you like best—we’ll try planting those. But you’ll have to wait at least two or three years before we can eat them.”

The whole family was dazzled by the colorful table of fruit and started tasting them eagerly.

“Xiao Ji, what’s this one?” “Grapes.”

“This peach is delicious—it’s so sweet.” “That’s a honey peach.”

“Brother, what’s this? It’s good.” “Kiwi. But I think it’s better suited for growing on the mountain.”

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei kept asking nonstop, and Jiang Ji answered between bites. He glanced over and saw Jiang Yan eating quietly, brows slightly furrowed.

“What’s wrong? You don’t like it?”

“No, it’s good,” Jiang Yan said, shaking his head. He swallowed a grape and spat out the seed. “It’s just… I feel like I’ve eaten these grapes before. And these lychees too—they seem familiar.”

Zhao Ru’s eyes widened. “Your family must be a rich household then. Only the wealthy can afford such fruits.”

Jiang Ji gave Jiang Yan a look but shook his head. “Not just rich households. Lychees, for instance—you can’t buy them here, even if you have money.”

“That’s true. I’ve never even seen anything called ‘lychee’ in the market,” Zhao Ru said.

Jiang Yan looked at Jiang Ji. “What do you mean?”

Jiang Ji explained, “Lychees come from the southern regions. Down there, they’re not that expensive—anyone with money can eat them. But they spoil quickly, within just a few days after being picked. That’s why you can’t find them around here.”

He glanced at Jiang Yan and continued, “If someone could eat them here, they must have been specially transported in ice. That kind is usually a tribute to the imperial court.”

Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia were stunned. Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei didn’t quite understand. Jiang Bei asked curiously, “Big brother, what’s a ‘tribute’? Is it the stuff we offer when we worship our ancestors?”

“Not that kind of ‘offering.’ This ‘tribute’ means things that are especially rare or valuable in certain places—offered to the royal family. The emperor eats them himself or gives them as rewards to his officials.”

Jiang Nan looked half-comprehending. “So if we grow them ourselves, would that make them tributes too? Would we have to send them to the emperor? Then we wouldn’t get to eat any!”

“No, the ones we grow are ours to eat.”

“Brother, then let’s plant some! I like the lychees.”

“Alright, we’ll plant them. But they take years to bear fruit—you might be grown up by the time we can eat them.”

“Then I’ll wait till they grow up.”

After chatting with Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei for a while, Jiang Ji glanced at Jiang Yan, who still hadn’t said anything, but didn’t press further.

In the end, the whole family agreed—they liked them all, so they’d plant them all.

Jiang Ji smiled. “Good. We’ve got plenty of space anyway, and we can put a few trees in the yard too. Tomorrow we’ll start sowing and growing the seedlings. Whether they bear fruit or not, we’ll see in time.”

Once everything was decided and everyone was full, Zhao Ru gathered the remaining fruit. Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei finished their homework, bathed, and went to bed.

Later, Jiang Ji saw Jiang Yan sitting alone in the courtyard, staring at the sky in thought. He grabbed a small stool and sat beside him.

“What are you thinking about?”

Jiang Yan turned and looked at him. “About what you just said.”

Jiang Ji was curious. “Tell me—what exactly does your family do? Are they officials?”

Jiang Yan looked at him and shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Then… is it possible you’re from the south?” Jiang Ji guessed.

Jiang Yan asked, “Are there grapes in the south?”

“There should be.”

Jiang Yan continued, “But when I eat sweet potatoes or corn, I don’t feel that sense of familiarity. If I were from the south, I should’ve eaten sweet potatoes and corn before, right?”

Jiang Ji had once said that sweet potatoes and corn were transported from the south.

“Uh, well,” Jiang Ji rubbed his nose, “Jiang Yan, actually, sweet potatoes, corn, and potatoes—they didn’t come from the southern parts of our country. Our country doesn’t naturally have these three crops.”

Jiang Yan frowned. “What do you mean?”

Jiang Ji looked at him and said seriously, “Sweet potatoes, corn, and potatoes all came from foreign countries.”

“Foreign countries?” Jiang Yan’s eyes widened slightly. “You mean, other nations?”

“Yes.”

Jiang Yan thought for a moment. “Do you mean the countries even further south than ours?”

“No.”

“Then where?” Jiang Yan was completely puzzled.

Jiang Ji leaned in and whispered, “It has to do with my secret. Anyway, these crops don’t come from our country, but not just from the nations south of us either. Just know they’re foreign foods—the exact place doesn’t matter.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

After a moment of silence, he nodded. “Alright, I understand.”

Jiang Ji nodded approvingly—this was one thing he liked about Jiang Yan. Then he patted his shoulder. “Jiang Yan, if you ever get rich and powerful, don’t forget about me.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

He gave a faint, amused look. “You might already be richer than my family. Officials probably don’t make money as fast as you do.”

Jiang Ji blinked and grinned. “That’s not how it works. In this society, no amount of money beats being an official. Anyway, if you ever regain your memory, whatever your background is, it’s definitely better than mine. You’ll have to look out for me then.”

Jiang Yan smiled and nodded. “Alright.”

They exchanged a quiet laugh.

After chatting for a while, Jiang Yan looked up at the moon. “What if I never remember anything for the rest of my life?”

“Then just stay with my family for the rest of your life.”

Jiang Yan turned to look at Jiang Ji, his calm gaze carrying a subtle ripple.

Jiang Ji met his eyes and raised a brow. “What, you don’t want to?”

Jiang Yan shook his head softly. “No. I’d like that.”

Their eyes met under the nearly full moon. The silver light poured down like water, illuminating their faces so clearly that each could see the other’s expression in detail.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stop—only the gentle moonlight surrounded them.

Jiang Ji was the first to look away. He blinked, stood up, and said, “It’s late. Go wash up and sleep.”

“Alright. You go first.”

Watching Jiang Ji’s figure disappear into the kitchen, Jiang Yan lowered his gaze, took out the jade pendant from his robe, stared at it for a long while, and then finally stood up and went back inside.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

At dawn, the sky was turning pale, and roosters were crowing one after another throughout the village. Early birds chirped busily outside the window.

Jiang Yan opened his eyes and blinked a few times to wake himself. Under his chin was something soft and familiar—it was Jiang Ji’s hair. But unlike usual, Jiang Yan realized he was lying on his side this time, with one arm draped over Jiang Ji, holding him close.

He froze slightly. Jiang Ji always liked to hold onto something when he slept—he’d cling to Jiang Yan’s arm and nuzzle his head against Jiang Yan’s neck without realizing it. Jiang Yan had noticed that the very first night they shared a bed.

But he himself had never had the habit of hugging anyone while sleeping. Not before, and not even recently. He couldn’t remember why, in the middle of the night, he’d rolled over and placed his arm around Jiang Ji like this.

His mind was a little hazy. His fingers twitched slightly, but he didn’t pull his hand back right away. He just stared blankly at the wall, lost in thought.

The person in his arms shifted, rolling onto his back—he was waking up. Instinctively, Jiang Yan closed his eyes and pretended to still be asleep.

Jiang Ji opened his eyes, yawned, and rubbed them before fully waking up.

When he lowered his hand, he realized there was an arm wrapped around his waist.

Eh? Jiang Yan’s arm?

This was the first time Jiang Yan had ever draped an arm over him while sleeping. Usually, it was the opposite—Jiang Ji would wake to find himself clinging to Jiang Yan’s arm, or resting against him.

Jiang Yan always slept straight and proper, barely even turned in his sleep. When he did lie on his side, his posture remained disciplined—arms and legs never sprawling, each in its place.

Jiang Ji turned his head to look at him. Jiang Yan’s eyes were closed, his lashes long, brow bone pronounced. His thick eyebrows formed a sharp, heroic line; his nose was high, his lips thin, and his jawline clean and defined.

He was strikingly handsome and masculine—in Jiang Ji’s words from his past life, a real man’s man. In his circle, someone like this would have been very popular among people like himself.

But Jiang Yan’s temperament most of the time was calm, composed, and scholarly—an interesting contradiction that made him even more attractive.

Jiang Ji sighed inwardly. If I weren’t worried you might already be married, I’d have made a move long ago.

He watched him for a while, then gently lifted Jiang Yan’s wrist off his waist, setting it aside. He got out of bed, dressed quietly, and left the room.

When the sound of the door closing reached him, Jiang Yan opened his eyes. After a moment of stillness, he sat up and got out of bed.

In the courtyard outside, Jiang Ji was carrying the plow on his back.

“You’re going out to plow the fields?” Jiang Yan asked.

“You’re up,” Jiang Ji said, setting the plow down and grabbing a rope as he walked toward the cowshed. “Go fetch water. I’m going to turn the soil and let it dry for a few days—helps reduce pests and disease.”

“Alright.”

Jiang Ji led the ox out to the fields, while Jiang Yan picked up the carrying pole and water buckets to draw water.

At the village well, a small line had already formed, and people were chatting idly as they waited.

When Jiang Yan arrived, one of the older women at the front turned to him and asked with a teasing smile, “Jiang Yan, I heard a matchmaker came by yesterday to arrange a marriage for Jiang Ji?”

Jiang Yan nodded. “Yeah.”

The line at the well immediately perked up with interest. Another aunt chimed in, “I heard it was Aunt Zhou from Mushan Village. She’s a top-notch matchmaker! Hey, Jiang Yan, which village was the girl from?”

Jiang Yan said calmly, “I’m not sure.”

“You didn’t listen in?”

“No.”

Someone laughed. “How could Jiang Yan go eavesdrop on a matchmaking talk?”

“Oh come on, they live together. What’s the harm in overhearing a little?”

Another person asked, “Did it work out then?”

Jiang Yan shook his head. “No.”

“Eh? So was Jiang Ji not interested, or was it his mother?”

“Ah, Li Hua’s mother, why are you prying so much? Planning to set your daughter up with him?”

“Get out of here, I’m just asking.”

“Well, your Li Hua’s old enough too, isn’t she? Time to start arranging things.”

“Yeah, I’ve started thinking about it.” The aunt turned back to Jiang Yan. “So why didn’t it work out? Jiang Ji didn’t like the girl?”

Jiang Yan gave her a look and shook his head. “No, Jiang Ji said he just doesn’t want to get married yet.”

“What? He’s nineteen already and still doesn’t want to marry?”

“Sounds like an excuse to me. Probably just didn’t like the girl.”

“Right, his family’s better off now. Of course his standards have gone up—ordinary girls won’t catch his eye anymore.”

“Hey, Jiang Yan, did Jiang Ji say why he doesn’t want to marry?” asked Li Hua’s mother again.

Jiang Yan hesitated, then said, “Not really. But he said he has no plans to marry for the next couple of years.”

“Oh dear, what’s that boy thinking?”

“Impossible. Even if he’s not in a rush, surely his mother is?”

“Well, in the end, it’s up to her anyway.”

“That’s true.”

The women kept gossiping while Jiang Yan finished drawing water and headed home.

Back at the house, Zhao Ru was cooking breakfast. When she saw Jiang Yan come in, she remembered the night before and asked, “Jiang Yan, I saw you and Xiao Ji talking in the yard last night—did you ask him?”

“I did.” Jiang Yan poured the water into the storage jar.

“What did he say?” she asked quickly.

Looking at her, Jiang Yan replied honestly, “He said he doesn’t have a girl he likes, and it’s not that he’s hung up on the one from before, either.”

“Neither?” Zhao Ru frowned. “Then why won’t he marry? Did you ask him that?”

“He said he just doesn’t want to for now. He wants to focus on earning money and wait until the family’s stable before thinking about it.” Jiang Yan poured in the second bucket of water and added, “There’s farm work to do, the new house construction, and he’s planning a workshop later this year. He wants to build his career first—says he has no time for marriage now.”

Zhao Ru sighed. “Ah, that child. Getting married doesn’t take up his time—I can handle the arrangements! He can still do his work.”

Jiang Yan tried to comfort her. “Auntie, he’s only nineteen. He hasn’t even come of age yet, so there’s no rush.”

“Nineteen’s not that young either. Even if he just gets engaged first, that’d be fine. Getting married next year would be perfect timing.”

As she stirred the rice in the pot, she thought of another possibility. “Jiang Yan, do you think maybe he was hurt before? That’s why he doesn’t want to marry now?”

Jiang Yan said after a pause, “He told me he’s over that girl.”

“I don’t mean he’s still pining for her,” Zhao Ru said, waving a hand. “I mean, maybe that heartbreak made him want to earn more before marrying?”

Jiang Yan: “…”

“But the family’s well-off now,” Zhao Ru muttered, confused. “Why still refuse marriage? Look around—what young man in this village doesn’t want to marry early and take a wife? There must be something weighing on his heart.”

Jiang Yan really didn’t know how to respond. He couldn’t tell her the real reason—that Jiang Ji simply didn’t like women. After a brief silence, he said, “Anyway, he’s still young. Waiting a couple of years isn’t too late.”

Then he hurriedly picked up the buckets and left.

But at the well, a new group of villagers had gathered, asking again about Jiang Ji’s failed matchmaking. When he got back home, Zhao Ru dragged him into yet another round of speculation about why Jiang Ji refused to marry.

All morning, Jiang Yan found himself answering the same question over and over.

Jiang Yan: “…”

During breakfast, Jiang Ji noticed the odd look Jiang Yan was giving him and finally asked, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

Jiang Yan lowered his eyes, took a sip of porridge, and said, “The whole village’s been talking about your matchmaking. I’ve answered that question four times this morning.”

“Pfft—cough, cough!” Jiang Ji nearly spit out his porridge and ended up choking instead. He turned aside, coughing hard, while Jiang Yan reached over and patted his back.

Jiang Xia, Jiang Nan, and Jiang Bei hadn’t known anything about the matchmaking—by the time they’d come home yesterday, the matchmaker had already left, and no one mentioned it. They were just finding out now.

Jiang Xia blinked in surprise. “Mother, Brother’s getting a match arranged?”

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei also looked up in confusion.

Zhao Ru nodded. “The matchmaker came by yesterday.”

“Did it go through?” Jiang Xia asked curiously. “Which family?”

Zhao Ru sighed. “Your brother said he doesn’t want to marry yet.”

Jiang Xia, Jiang Nan, and Jiang Bei all turned to stare at Jiang Ji.

His face was still red from coughing. After taking a sip of water, he said, “What are you all looking at me for? Done eating already?”

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei quickly buried their heads and kept eating. Jiang Xia glanced at him a few more times before curiosity got the better of her. “Brother, why don’t you want to marry yet? Brother Qiang got married when he was seventeen.”

Jiang Ji gave her a sideways look. “If I don’t like anyone, why would I marry? Isn’t that normal?”

“Like someone?” Jiang Xia frowned slightly. “But doesn’t everyone marry through a matchmaker? It’s all parents’ orders and matchmaker’s words—hardly anyone marries for love.”

Jiang Ji froze. Jiang Xia was only thirteen, yet she already had such deeply ingrained thinking.

He frowned slightly at her and said, “Jiang Xia, even though matchmaking is one way to get married, two people who have never met suddenly becoming husband and wife—without knowing each other at all—how can they be sure they’ll be happy later?”

Jiang Xia looked puzzled. “But isn’t that how everyone does it?”

“Just because everyone does it doesn’t mean it’s right.” Jiang Ji said seriously. “Remember this: you can meet someone through matchmaking, but you must really get to know them first. Spend time together, make sure you truly like the person before you marry. Understand?”

Jiang Xia turned to look at her mother.

Zhao Ru was also stunned. “Xiao Ji, where did you even hear such things? Since ancient times, people have always lived this way.”

“Mother, think about it,” Jiang Ji said. “Two people who don’t even know each other suddenly becoming husband and wife—how frightening is that? What if the man’s temper is bad? What if he’s violent? What if he gambles or drinks? If you don’t know someone, you shouldn’t marry them.”

Zhao Ru laughed. “You can ask about those things beforehand.”

“Asking and seeing are not the same thing. You know how matchmakers are—they only talk about the good things and never mention the bad. And if someone wants to hide something, they can act nice and proper when you meet them, but once you’re married, the truth shows. Look at all those families that fight every day—aren’t most of them like that?”

Jiang Ji said seriously, “You only see a person’s true nature with time. Unless you’ve spent time together, marrying someone you barely know is risky. The man doesn’t lose much, but the woman could suffer terribly. If she’s lucky, she finds a good one. If she’s not, she might never escape without getting hurt.”

Zhao Ru frowned. “That makes sense, but you can still check before marrying. What you’re describing is rare.”

“Rare? Every village has at least a handful of such cases.” Jiang Ji said solemnly. “Mother, no matter what others do, at least in our family, our children can’t marry someone they’ve never met, talked to, or understood. Even if you like someone, you still have to see what kind of person and family they come from before marrying. Otherwise, you’ll just end up arguing every day and living in misery.”

Then he turned especially toward Jiang Xia. “Jiang Xia, especially you—girls must be even more careful. And before eighteen, you’re not allowed to marry.”

His words left everyone stunned and speechless, staring at him in disbelief. Only Jiang Yan sat quietly, watching him with thoughtful eyes.

Zhao Ru frowned. “You child, if she’s eighteen, she’ll already be an old maid! You don’t want her to marry at all, is that it?”

“How’s eighteen old?” Jiang Ji countered. “Even if Jiang Xia never marries, that’s fine. I’ll take care of my sister.”

Zhao Ru sighed. “Nonsense. Everyone marries.”

Jiang Ji knew Zhao Ru wouldn’t easily accept this, so he thought for a bit and said, “Mother, a girl’s body isn’t even fully developed until eighteen. Marrying too young harms her health—it shortens her life.”

Zhao Ru was shocked. “Shortens her life?”

“Really?” Jiang Xia asked, eyes wide.

Jiang Ji nodded. “Of course. Before eighteen, your body’s still growing. Some girls even have children before then—that’s terrible for their health. If your body isn’t mature yet and you give birth, you’ll get sick. That shortens your lifespan.”

“Brother, where did you hear that? I’ve never heard anyone say that.”

Jiang Ji pointed upward and said, “The immortals said it.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

“Really from the immortals?” Jiang Xia asked.

Jiang Ji nodded. “Mm-hmm. Otherwise how would I know?”

The words “the immortals said it” had miraculous power in this household. As soon as Jiang Ji said something came from the immortals, no matter how skeptical they were before, Zhao Ru and the others would instantly believe him.

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei had been listening quietly the whole time, not understanding much—until the part about not marrying before eighteen.

Jiang Nan said, “If the immortals said it, then it must be right.”

Jiang Ji looked at him. “You understood that?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you understand?”

Jiang Bei answered, “You can only get married after eighteen.”

Jiang Nan nodded. “Right! Second Sister has to wait until she’s eighteen to marry.”

Jiang Ji smiled. “Good, you actually understood.”

Jiang Nan then asked, “Brother, does that mean Jiang Bei and I can only marry after eighteen too?”

“Right. And your wives can’t be too young either—they also have to be at least eighteen.”

“Oh. Okay.” Jiang Nan nodded carefreely—marriage was still a long way off anyway.

Jiang Yan noticed Zhao Ru was no longer arguing. He looked at Jiang Ji and just happened to meet his eyes.

Jiang Ji raised his brows slightly and tilted his chin upward, a bit proud of himself.

Jiang Yan: “…”

Still, seeing that they no longer avoided talking about “the immortals” in front of him, Jiang Yan felt a quiet warmth and the corners of his lips curved faintly.

[Congratulations, Host, on completing Special Mission #068. Reward: One Beginner Skill Learning Manual.]

The electronic voice of 2977 suddenly sounded in Jiang Ji’s mind, and he froze.

Huh? What mission #068? And a beginner skill manual?

“I’m full.” He downed the rest of his porridge, set down the bowl, and walked out.

In the main hall, he opened the system interface and saw the entry: [Special Mission #068: Educate your family on modern scientific views of love and marriage.]

Ah, so that’s what it was.

He hadn’t even meant to do it, but somehow he completed a mission and got a reward. Pleased, he asked, “2977, what’s this skill manual for?”

[Beginner Skill Learning Manual: Host may learn any one beginner-level skill.]

“Any skill? You mean it’s not tied to specific system tasks anymore? Like if I want to learn archery or horseback riding, I can do it without completing a separate mission first?”

[Correct.]

Jiang Ji’s eyes lit up. “That’s great!”

[Would the host like to use the manual now?]

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. “No, I’ll save it for later when I really need it.”

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

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

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

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

She nodded to herself in satisfaction.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Ji blinked. “Good news?”

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

Jiang Ji: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Ji: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The matchmaker: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Yan: “…”

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

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

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

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

Jiang Ji: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Ji: “…”

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

Jiang Yan: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

“Jiang Ji.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Ji: “…”

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

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

“What thing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Ji: “…”

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

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

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

Jiang Ji sighed. “No one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not that.”

“Then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Yan: “Didn’t work how?”

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

Jiang Yan: “…”

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

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

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

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

“No,” Jiang Yan said evenly.

Eh? No?

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

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

“Really?”

“Mm.”

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

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

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

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

“I’m not.”

“Alright then.”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

“Orientation?”

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

Jiang Yan replied evenly, “I have amnesia.”

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

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

Jiang Yan: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Yan looked straight at him. “Curious?”

“Very,” Jiang Ji admitted with a nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

The heavy rain lasted for about an hour before easing into a drizzle, which continued for nearly another half hour before finally stopping.

Even though they were planning to build a new house, the roof of the old one still had to be patched up for now.

As soon as the rain stopped, Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan grabbed their tools and began repairing it.

They first tied bundles of rice straw together using thin bamboo slats and small wooden strips, making thick thatch mats. Then they climbed up to place them over the leaking spots, securing them tightly with rope.

Jiang Ji set up a long ladder and was about to climb up when Jiang Yan stopped him. “I’ll go.”

Jiang Ji blinked. “I’m lighter.”

“I’ve got better balance,” Jiang Yan replied.

“…” Jiang Ji gave him a skeptical look. “You sure you know how?”

Jiang Yan nodded. “Just learned.”

Jiang Ji stared for a moment, then shrugged. “Alright, go ahead then.”

Jiang Yan climbed up the ladder while Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru steadied it from below.

“Be careful!” Zhao Ru called up. “Step on the roof beams—make sure your footing’s firm!”

“Got it,” Jiang Yan answered.

Once he was on the roof, Jiang Ji climbed partway up to hand him the straw mats. Jiang Yan took them, leaned forward to place them over the spots that had leaked earlier, stretched his arm out to tie them down securely, and pressed back the thatch that the wind had blown loose.

Standing on top of the ladder, Jiang Ji glanced around and saw that many other families were also repairing their roofs.

Thatched houses were like this—one strong gust of wind could damage them, and they had to be patched several times every year.

He spotted Uncle Tu Gen and Aunt Xiufang returning from the fields in their straw raincoats and called out, “Uncle, Auntie! Where did you two go?”

They came into the courtyard, and Aunt Xiufang replied, “We went to check on the potatoes. I was worried the heavy rain might’ve washed the soil away and left them exposed.”

“There’s straw on top for insulation—it should be fine, right?” Jiang Ji asked. Since they didn’t have plastic sheeting, he had instructed everyone to cover their crops with straw to keep them warm.

“Most of it’s fine,” Aunt Xiufang said. “Just a few spots where the straw wasn’t pressed down properly—it got blown open.”

Zhao Ru grew anxious. “Oh dear, I should go take a look too.”

Tu Gen waved a hand. “No need. We already checked yours—not much was blown off. We pressed it back down.”

“Thanks, Uncle,” Jiang Ji said.

“No need to thank us. You two keep fixing the roof—we’ll head back.”

Still uneasy, Zhao Ru went to the fields herself to check. She also inspected the sweet potato vines.

They had already sprouted—a stretch of tender purplish-red stems and tiny green leaves. Because of the rain, the leaves were splattered with mud, but they looked strong and healthy.

Some water had pooled in the furrows, so Zhao Ru dug small trenches at the edge of the field to let it drain smoothly.

Many villagers were out doing the same, checking on their potatoes and sweet potatoes, afraid that the heavy rain had damaged their precious crops.

By dusk, Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan had finished patching the roof. After dinner, Jiang Ji began sketching plans for the new house.

He wasn’t an architect, but he could at least draw the general layout—something to discuss later with the builders.

When he thought about house styles, the first thing that came to mind was a traditional courtyard layout. This world, though different, shared the same cultural roots as the ancient era of his previous life, so the architectural style was very similar.

What mattered most to Jiang Ji, however, was the functionality of the layout.

“Mother, Xia’er, come take a look,” he said, beckoning them over. “See if this design works—or if there’s anything else we should add.”

Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia leaned closer to study the drawing. Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei climbed up on the bench, stretching their little necks to peer over the table.

Jiang Ji pointed to the paper with his brush. “Look here—this is what I’m thinking. The main house, with east and west wings, two rooms each, so everyone gets their own. Next to that, three study rooms—one for Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei, one for Xia’er, and one for me and Jiang Yan. Over here will be a small storage room and two bathhouses. Behind that row, the kitchen, a small dining room, a storeroom, and a woodshed. Then we’ll dig our own well, so we won’t have to haul water anymore.”

“On both sides connecting to the main house,” he continued, “we’ll build two more rows of rooms—for future servants or guests to stay in. Over here, an animal yard—latrine, pigsty, cowshed, and stable.”

The family gathered around listening as Jiang Ji explained, each offering their own ideas.

Jiang Nan’s eyes went wide. “That’s so many rooms! Such a big house?”

“Right,” Jiang Ji nodded.

Jiang Bei still looked worried about money. “Big brother, do we really have enough money for that?”

The adults all couldn’t help but laugh.

Jiang Ji flicked his little brother’s forehead. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve got enough to build it.”

Jiang Bei gaped, shocked. “That much money? But that sounds like it’ll cost a lot, a lot of silver!”

He turned to Jiang Yan. “Is it Brother Jiang Yan’s money?”

Jiang Yan smiled and shook his head. “No, your brother earned it.”

Jiang Bei’s eyes lit up. “Big brother, you made that much? Did you do lots and lots of work for the immortal?”

“Mm. So don’t worry,” Jiang Ji said with a grin.

Both Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei looked at him in awe, eyes full of admiration.

“Big brother, you’re amazing!” Jiang Bei said sincerely.

Jiang Ji laughed and ruffled his hair.

Jiang Yan, watching from the side, thought about what Jiang Bei had said. So to the children, Jiang Ji explained everything by saying it came from “the immortal,” huh?

His expression turned a little strange.

There were no immortals in this world—as far as he was concerned, at least, he’d never believed in such things.

Zhao Ru looked over the plan. “Xiao Ji, a house that big will need several mu of land, won’t it?”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. Now that they had money, and land in the countryside was cheap, they might as well make it spacious and comfortable. One mu was about 600 square meters—roughly 30 meters long by 20 wide—barely enough for a small courtyard.

Since he wanted a courtyard and a garden, he glanced at his drawing and said, “Let’s buy twenty mu.”

That would be about the size of two football fields—not too big, not too small, he thought.

“So much?” Zhao Ru said in surprise.

Jiang Ji looked at his younger siblings and explained, “They’ll grow up fast. If they want their own little courtyards later, we can build beside ours instead of having to buy land again. And when everyone in the village starts earning money, they’ll want land to build houses too—by then, we might not have enough space nearby.”

“Plus, while the land’s still cheap, buying it all at once is more cost-effective. There’s an open patch of unused land at the foot of the hill southeast of the village. Once it’s gone, there won’t be that much land left. And if we have extra, we can use it later to build workshops.”

Zhao Ru looked at her children. She hadn’t expected her son to think so far ahead. Smiling, she nodded. “Alright.”

…

The next morning after breakfast, Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru went to find the village head to discuss buying land for the house.

“Sure, no problem,” the village head said. “Just tell me where, then go to the county office to register it.”

Jiang Ji said, “That patch of open land at the foot of the back hill—we’ll take all of it.”

“All of it?” The village head’s eyes widened. “That’s over twenty mu, isn’t it?”

“Mm.”

The village head froze for a moment before asking, “You’re really going to build a house that big?”

“Not all at once,” Jiang Ji explained. “I’m just buying it first—it’ll be easier to use later when we need it.”

“Oh, alright, I understand,” the village head said.

He accompanied them to the county office to register the purchase. Officials were dispatched to measure the land, mark the boundaries, and place foundation stones. Afterward, Jiang Ji paid the money, completed the paperwork, and received the deed.

While in town, he also asked around for the best team of builders. The most skilled group was currently finishing another house and would need a few more days before they were free.

Jiang Ji arranged with their master builder, Foreman Zheng, to come inspect the site once they were done, then returned home.

Once that business was settled, Jiang Ji brought together the village head, Uncle Tu Gen’s family, and the families who had helped him sell seeds earlier. They started on watermelon and tomato seedlings, and since some villagers wanted to try growing chili peppers, he also taught them how to raise pepper sprouts.

When it came time to water the seeds, Jiang Ji noticed everyone was using ladles. But for seedbeds, that wasn’t ideal—ladles poured too hard and could wash the seeds away. Fine misting was better, gentle enough not to disturb the soil.

“Mother, don’t water yet—give me a moment.”

Zhao Ru paused, confused. “Huh? We’re not watering? What are you going to do?”

Uncle Tu Gen and the others all looked at him curiously.

“We’ll water, just not with ladles,” Jiang Ji said, calling to Jiang Yan. “Jiang Yan, go borrow a saw from the village head and bring it home. I’m going to cut a piece of bamboo. Uncle, you all wait at my house.”

Jiang Yan went to fetch the saw, and the others followed him home to wait.

Before long, Jiang Ji came back carrying a large bamboo stalk on his shoulder.

He used the saw to cut out the thickest, longest section, then used a nail to punch many tiny holes through one end of the node, leaving the other end open.

“What are you making?” the village head asked.

“A water sprayer,” Jiang Ji replied. “For watering seedlings after sowing. Later we can also use it for spraying pesticide or fertilizer.”

He shaved another section of bamboo, roughly the same width as the hollow interior, and whittled one end down a bit thinner. Wrapping that end with strips of cloth, he pushed it into the open end of the larger bamboo tube and tested it a few times. It fit perfectly.

“Alright, watch this.”

Jiang Ji filled a basin with water from the kitchen, dipped the bamboo into it, pulled the inner piece to draw in water, then pushed it down—the water sprayed softly from the perforated end.

A fine, gentle mist fell evenly from the bamboo, scattering like light rain.

“With this, the seeds won’t get washed away,” he explained. “And later, when we spray medicine on the leaves, this will come in handy too.”

Jiang Yan’s eyes brightened as he watched. “Let me try.”

Jiang Ji handed him the bamboo sprayer. Jiang Yan dipped it in the basin, drew up water, and pressed it down—again, a delicate mist fanned out.

“Not bad,” Jiang Yan said approvingly.

Uncle Tu Gen and the village head each tried it too. Then the two of them immediately went home, grabbed their machetes, and started cutting bamboo. Before long, they came back dragging several stalks to Jiang Ji’s courtyard and began making their own sprayers under his guidance.

Jiang Ji built three more himself and then went to water the vegetable beds.

People working in nearby fields saw them pumping water through bamboo and came over to have a look—everyone thought it was clever.

Within two days, the bamboo grove behind the hill was noticeably thinner—dozens of stalks had been cut down.

It was peak planting season for vegetables and melons; every household was busy sowing seeds, the village lively and full of energy.

By that time, Lord Chen had returned—along with two clerks and yamen runners from other counties. They had come to deliver the money owed for the seeds.

After Zhao Ru received the payment, she thought for a moment and had Jiang Ji make another safe box. She wanted to store the money separately, just in case.

After two days of soaking and a few more days of sprouting, the rice seeds were ready to be sown.

Because it was everyone’s first time using the moist-seedling method, people from nearby households came to watch Jiang Ji’s process.

Both Lord Chen and Magistrate Xu arrived with their attendants to observe in person.

That morning, Jiang Ji plowed the seedbed again. After breakfast, seeing everyone had gathered, he and Jiang Yan divided the field into seedling beds three to four feet wide, leaving one-foot drainage trenches between them.

To finish early and return home to sow their own, Uncle Tu Gen and the others came down into the field to help shape the seedbeds.

Holding a wooden basin filled with sprouted rice, Jiang Ji scooped a handful and gently scattered the seeds across the soft mud.

“Like this,” he explained. “It’s actually simple. The soil should be fine and loose. Sprinkle the seeds evenly so they settle naturally into the mud. If some don’t, just brush lightly over them with a broom later. Since it’s been raining a lot, once we finish, we’ll cover the beds with straw when it rains again to keep the seedlings from being damaged.”

As he demonstrated, the villagers quickly learned and went home to start sowing their own fields.

It took Jiang Ji’s family the whole morning—their land was large, so the area to sow was big. Once Uncle Tu Gen’s family finished their own, they came back to lend a hand.

Lord Chen stood nearby, sketching the entire process carefully. He planned to have the drawings copied and distributed to other counties—a truly dedicated official.

Thanks to his help and that of the others, Jiang Ji’s work went much faster.

After several busy days, once all the sowing was done, Foreman Zheng’s construction team finally finished their previous project. He brought his workers to inspect Jiang Ji’s land.

Foreman Zheng was around forty, a veteran craftsman from a long line of builders.

Looking between Jiang Ji’s drawing and the site, he asked, “So you’re building this big? The full twenty mu?”

“No, no,” Jiang Ji said quickly. “We’ll start with half—just ten mu, over on this side.” He gestured roughly across the land.

“Then this layout will need to be redrawn,” Zheng said. “The proportions are all off.”

“I know,” Jiang Ji said, smiling. “This was just a rough sketch. You’re the expert—I’ll have to trouble you to help us design and plan it properly.”

“Alright, let’s measure the length and width first,” Foreman Zheng said.

Following the area Jiang Ji had marked out, he led his workers to carefully measure the land, then turned to him. “Master Jiang, you’ll need to tell me what kind of layout and features you want.”

Jiang Ji described his ideas one by one. After listening, Zheng nodded. “Alright, I’ll draw it up and show you the day after tomorrow.”

…

Two days later, Zheng returned with the design drawings. Jiang Ji examined them and was very satisfied. The two discussed details, made a few minor adjustments, and finalized the plan.

They also agreed on the price—not a daily wage, but a flat rate based on the total project size. After setting the start date, everything was ready for construction to begin.

“How long will it take to finish?” Jiang Ji asked.

“About three and a half months,” Zheng replied. “Most of this ten mu is still wasteland. Clearing and leveling it will take quite a bit of work. If you want to finish faster, you’ll need to hire more hands to help with the clearing—could save you several days.”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. “Alright, I’ll find people to help.”

By now, most of the planting work in the fields had wrapped up, and the villagers had a bit of free time.

Jiang Ji quickly hired forty to fifty able-bodied men from the village to help clear the land, offering thirty copper coins a day—ten more than they’d get for labor in town. Everyone worked with great enthusiasm, and within three days, the thorns, weeds, and stones were completely cleared. Even the roots were dug out, and the land was leveled smooth.

The villagers all knew Jiang Ji’s family was building a new house. Looking at the wide, cleared land, everyone was amazed—it was huge.

“That’s a big plot of land. Must be planning to build a proper estate—like the wealthy families in town, with several courtyards.”

“I heard he made a lot selling seeds. Went to several counties, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, wonder where he found those traveling merchants—what luck, hitting fortune like that.”

“Well, that’s fate for you. Just two months ago, his family was still eating wild greens and rice bran. Now look—he’s building a mansion.”

“They’ve really turned their lives around.”

“Jiang Ji’s already nineteen, right? Matchmakers never used to visit their house. But lately, I’ve heard plenty of families have been trying to send matchmakers to propose.”

“Different times now. If I had a daughter, I’d be thinking about it too.”

“He went to several counties. They must’ve made at least ten thousand taels of silver, right?”

“At least that much, probably more.”

Aunt Xiufang, who was also helping with the clearing, frowned when she heard the gossip. “Alright, enough of that. The magistrate already said—once we harvest the new rice and sweet potatoes, we can sell the seeds ourselves and make good money too. We should be grateful to Jiang Ji.”

“That’s true,” one woman muttered, “but still, can’t compare to his family.”

Aunt Xiufang sighed. “Why keep comparing? As long as we’re better off than before, that’s what matters.”

Another woman smirked. “Easy for you to say. Jiang Ji let your family plant those melons—you’ve got it better than the rest of us.”

Aunt Xiufang laughed. “They’re called watermelons. Zhao Ru and Xiao Ji were kind enough to include us, of course I’m happy. Our families have been through hardship together. If more of you had helped them back when they were struggling, I’m sure he’d have shared seeds with you too. He’s even selling us the new rice and sweet potato seeds at fair prices now—so let’s appreciate that instead of spreading nonsense behind their backs. If Zhao Ru or Jiang Ji overheard this, how would they feel, huh?”

Her words silenced everyone nearby.

Jiang Yan was on-site supervising the work. His hearing was sharp, so even from a distance he caught every word of the women’s chatter. He glanced over briefly, then turned to look at Jiang Ji, who was standing farther away, talking with Foreman Zheng.

At nineteen, Jiang Ji was indeed considered late to marry by village standards—many young men married at sixteen or seventeen, and by nineteen already had children running around.

The reason no matchmakers had visited before was because his family had been poor. But now that they were wealthy… well.

Jiang Yan looked at him for a while, then finally looked away.

While the clearing continued on one side, Foreman Zheng was busy drawing the construction diagrams and estimating the needed materials. He took Jiang Ji along to purchase foundation stones, green bricks, tiles, and lumber, scheduling delivery times based on the construction timeline.

Zheng’s team was experienced—they built several straw sheds on the open land to store materials that couldn’t get wet.

Once they started laying out foundation lines and digging, cartloads of supplies began arriving one after another.

Life became extremely busy for Jiang Ji’s household. Between tending the fields and supervising construction, every day was packed from dawn to dusk.

One afternoon, after Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan returned from the fields where they’d been spreading compost, they entered the main room and saw Zhao Ru chatting happily with another woman.

“Mother, we’re back.”

At their arrival, the visitor stood up and greeted them with a bright smile. “Ah, Jiang Ji, you’re back!”

Setting down their baskets and hoes under the eaves, Jiang Ji glanced at the unfamiliar woman in confusion. “Mother, this auntie is…?”

Zhao Ru introduced her. “She’s the sister-in-law of Li Dali’s aunt from our village—she’s from Mushan Village. She’s a well-known matchmaker from the nearby villages and came specially to arrange a marriage for you.”

“What?” Jiang Ji’s eyes went wide. “A marriage—for me?!”

Jiang Yan, who was washing his hands nearby, paused mid-motion and looked up toward them as well.

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