Author Archives: Thandar

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.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

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

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

“Mother, we’re back!”

It was Xiao Ji’s voice!

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

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

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

“Mother!” “Auntie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great, Mother! I want meat!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right? I knew you’d like this kind.”

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

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

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

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

“Mm, we’re fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Brother!”

“Brother! Brother Jiang Yan!”

“Big Brother, you’re home!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re so big!”

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

“Of course! Don’t you?”

“I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, I got it!” “Me too!”

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

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

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

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

“Is riding fun?”

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

Their faces glowed with excitement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Ji: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

“Well? How is it?” he asked.

“Delicious!”

“Sweet and yummy!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Nan: “…”

Everyone laughed.

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

He was sure Zhao Ru hadn’t told him.

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

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

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

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

Jiang Ji: “…”
Jiang Yan: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, we’ll start soaking tomorrow.”

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

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

“Understood. I’ll let them know.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm. Good night.”

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

…

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

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

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

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

Jiang Nan cheered—no school today.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not yet,” Jiang Yan replied evenly.

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

Jiang Yan: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

“What are you doing?” Jiang Ji asked.

“Testing it,” Jiang Yan replied.

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Yan: “…”

Jiang Ji laughed and walked out of the room.

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

“Oh, I just thought of something funny.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We can.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You do! You just don’t realize it.”

“Well, you kicked me too!”

“I did not!”

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

“Great!” the twins cheered together.

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

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

At dawn, the sky gradually lightened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Jiang Yan asked, glancing over.

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

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

Satisfied, Jiang Ji went back to cracking sunflower seeds.

“How’s your leg?” Jiang Yan asked.

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

“Did you apply the medicine?”

Jiang Ji froze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

【Oh? You weren’t so shy yesterday.】

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

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

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

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

“No, thank you,” Jiang Ji replied.

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

“Anyone watching?” Jiang Ji asked quietly.

Jiang Yan nodded. “Two of them.”

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

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

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

He crossed his arms, staring the man down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright.”

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Safe, dependable, and quietly strong.

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hu didn’t reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Understood.”

*

Outside Huawen County, in a country manor—

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

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

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

“Thank you, my lord.”

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

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

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

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

“Of course. Thank you, my lord.”

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

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

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

“Your leg…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…Alright, fine.”

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

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

“Yes, that’s right—this way.”

“Thank you, uncle.”

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

“Hyah!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After leaving the teapot, the waiter hurried off.

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

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

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

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

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

“Then wait a bit.”

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

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

Jiang Ji gulped down half of his in one go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sitting outside, Jiang Ji reopened his livestream.

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

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

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

Jiang Ji: “…”

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

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

Jiang Ji: “…”

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

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

Jiang Ji: “…”

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

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

“Mm. Come in.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll do it.”

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

Jiang Ji turned back. “Oh—thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Got it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

As he lifted the leg, Jiang Ji stirred.

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

Smack!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right, right, let’s go!”

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

They’d done nothing but feed the mosquitoes.

*

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

“Mother, we’re back!”

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not even a little?”

“No.”

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

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

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

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

Jiang Yan: “…”

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

Jiang Yan: “…”

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

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

Jiang Ji: “…”

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

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

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

Jiang Ji: “…”

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

“What was that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

They wandered a bit and left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Yan nodded and picked up a pastry himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And do you know all the students here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Ji turned. “What’s wrong?”

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

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

Jiang Yan: “…”

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

Jiang Yan: “…”

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

Jiang Yan: “…”

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

“Hey, let me look a bit longer!”

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

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

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

Jiang Ji sighed. “…Fine.”

He looked back with a little regret.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What undressing?” Jiang Ji was confused.

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

Jiang Ji: “…”

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

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

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

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

Jiang Ji: …

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tch!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

【What’s a curfew?】
【Explain it!】

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Ji paused. “Oh, right.”

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

“No.”

Jiang Ji hesitated. “Want to sleep together?”

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

Jiang Ji: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Extremely close.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah… really is pretty handsome.”

No wonder the audience had gone feral.

He glanced through the live comments again.

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

Jiang Ji: “…?!”

What the heck?!

How did Jiang Yan suddenly become your husband?

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

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

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

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

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I understand,” Jiang Ji said, nodding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Magistrate Xu only smiled without replying.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, go ahead,” Jiang Ji said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Magistrate Xu and Lord Chen both turned toward Prefect Hu.

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

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

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan: …

Magistrate Xu: …

Lord Chen: …

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

Magistrate Xu: …

Lord Chen: …

Jiang Yan calmly took a sip of tea.

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

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

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

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

Jiang Yan glanced at him, lowering his eyes slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m listening.”

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

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

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

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

Magistrate Xu glanced at Jiang Ji but said nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Perfect.”

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Got it, Mother. Don’t worry.”

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

He’d long felt ancient clothing wasn’t practical—everything fell out too easily.

Since Jiang Yan only carried a few things—some silver notes and a jade pendant—Jiang Ji exchanged for a small black leather waist pouch.

“Here, use this.” Jiang Ji unzipped it. “Put your silver notes and pendant in here, then zip it up. It’s secure and won’t fall out—much safer than our clothes’ pockets.”

Jiang Yan examined the little bag, tugged the zipper a few times, then put in his things and zipped it closed. “Do I wear it across my chest like you do? The strap doesn’t seem long enough.”

“No, no—it’s worn around the waist. Like this. Watch.”

“Press here to open.” Jiang Ji clicked open the buckle, then looped the pouch around Jiang Yan’s waist. “Now just clip it together—like that. Try it.”

Jiang Yan found the thing rather curious. He tried it twice himself and nodded. “This is good—very practical.”

“Right? I’m giving it to you,” said Jiang Ji cheerfully. “You can use it to carry little things from now on.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

“No need to be polite.”

…

The next morning, after breakfast, the whole family gathered by the gate to see them off.

Zhao Ru looked at Jiang Ji with worry, reminding him over and over, “You brought enough money, right? Make sure you have enough.”

“I did, Mother. Don’t worry. I’m going out to make money—when I come back, I’ll bring more with me.”

Zhao Ru smiled faintly and patted his arm, her eyes already moist. “You’ve never been that far from home before. Be careful, alright?”

“I will.”

Then she turned to Jiang Yan and patted his arm too. “Take care of yourself—and bring him back safely.”

“Yes, Auntie. Don’t worry, I’ll look after him,” Jiang Yan said calmly.

“Good,” she said. “I can rest easy with you around.”

Seeing Zhao Ru like this, Jiang Ji also felt a lump rise in his throat. He hugged her tightly. “Mother, we’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.”

“Alright, alright. Go on now. Don’t keep the officials waiting.”

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan waved goodbye and set off. Zhao Ru and the rest stood at the gate, watching until the two figures disappeared down the road before going back inside.

The pair first went to the county yamen. Lord Chen had already left two days earlier, but as promised, he had left two horses for them. Prefect Hu wasn’t going; he had sent one of his agricultural officers to assist Lord Chen instead.

Prefect Hu himself happened to be at the yamen as well, preparing to return to the prefectural office.

When Jiang Ji saw the two horses, a thought suddenly struck him. “Wait—I don’t know how to ride.”

Magistrate Xu: “…Then I’ll prepare a carriage for you.”

Jiang Ji turned to Jiang Yan. “Do you know how to ride?”

Jiang Yan thought for a moment. “I… might.”

“…Might? Go try it then.”

Jiang Yan really did lead one of the horses out, mounted it in a single smooth motion, and once he took the reins and lightly pressed his legs to the horse’s flanks, the animal started trotting forward. His posture looked steady—surprisingly natural.

“Wow, you actually can ride!” Jiang Ji’s eyes widened.

Magistrate Xu: …

Jiang Yan circled the courtyard once, then dismounted neatly. “We’ll go on horseback.”

Jiang Ji hesitated. “Uh… I can’t, though, big brother.”

“I’ll take you with me,” said Jiang Yan. “We’ll lead the other horse along and take turns riding. We’ll get there quickly that way.”

“Oh. That works too.”

They switched to a double saddle. Jiang Ji climbed up first, then Jiang Yan mounted behind him. After bidding farewell to the officials, they rode out of the county gate together.

At the same time, Prefect Hu boarded his own carriage with his attendants and slowly left the yamen as well.

Inside the carriage, his adviser leaned closer and whispered, “My lord, don’t you think that Jiang Yan looks… familiar?”

Prefect Hu was already in a sour mood from coming away empty-handed. “What, you know that kid?”

“I don’t,” the adviser said, frowning in thought. “But I feel like I’ve seen his face somewhere before.”

“If you don’t know him, how could he look familiar? He’s just a village nobody. You’ve never even been to this county,” scoffed Prefect Hu, closing his eyes to rest. A maid beside him was gently massaging his legs.

The adviser’s brows furrowed deeper as he tried to recall. He really did think he’d seen that face somewhere… and after a while, his eyes suddenly lit up.

“My lord! I remember why he looked familiar!”

Prefect Hu, half-dozing, was startled awake. “What are you shouting for?!”

“Forgive me, my lord,” the adviser quickly apologized, then pointed upward slightly and whispered, “Don’t you think Jiang Yan looks like him?”

Prefect Hu yawned. “Who?”

“The Regent Prince,” the adviser said, enunciating each word. “Lu Huaizhou.”

Prefect Hu’s eyes snapped open. “Who did you say?!”

“The Regent Prince, Lu Huaizhou,” the adviser repeated. “You have a portrait of him, don’t you? I’ve seen it. He really looks like that Jiang Yan.”

Prefect Hu had never actually met the Regent in person, but being a cautious official, he’d paid someone in the capital to send him a portrait—just in case he ever did.

Now, thinking of that portrait… and trying to recall Jiang Yan’s face…

Wait—what did Jiang Yan look like again?

Prefect Hu realized he hadn’t really paid much attention before—just a vague impression: pale skin, tall build.

“Jiang Yan looks like the Regent, does he?” Prefect Hu snorted. “Then that boy’s got a fine face, I suppose.”

“I’m serious,” the adviser said. “They really do look alike. You don’t think they could be brothers, do you?”

Prefect Hu let out a sharp laugh. “Brothers? Are you out of your mind? How could the Regent’s brother be living out here in the sticks?”

The adviser thought about it—it did sound absurd. The Regent’s father was a Grand Scholar, and his maternal uncles were both generals. He’d heard the Regent had a younger brother around seventeen or eighteen… no way that could be Jiang Yan.

Still, the resemblance nagged at him. It was uncanny.

*

On the official road south of the city, the horses galloped in a cloud of dust, trees whipping past on either side in streaks of green.

“Wow! I didn’t know horseback riding could be this fast! This is amazing!”

It was Jiang Ji’s first time on horseback. Sitting in front, arms spread wide, he yelled excitedly into the rushing wind.

Jiang Yan held the reins with one hand and steadied himself with the other, gripping the saddle ring near Jiang Ji’s waist. Seeing Jiang Ji’s ecstatic antics, he could only sigh.

“Sit still. Stop moving around, or you’ll fall off.”

Jiang Ji just laughed. “But it feels so great!”

Jiang Yan gave up and slowed the horse a little.

“Hey, hey, don’t slow down! Faster, Jiang Yan! Faster! Yah!” Jiang Ji kicked the horse’s belly lightly, and it sped up again.

Jiang Yan: “…”

He smacked Jiang Ji’s thigh lightly. “Stop that! Falling off a horse isn’t funny. Hold on tight!”

“Ow—ow, fine, fine, I’ll hold on, alright?” Jiang Ji yelped, pulling his hand back—only to accidentally grab Jiang Yan’s instead.

He glanced down, then quickly shifted his grip to the side, muttering, “There’s barely any space on this handle anyway. You can hold it if you want. You’ve got your arms around me already—how could I fall off?”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Jiang Yan was tall and broad-shouldered, while Jiang Ji was smaller and slighter. Sharing a saddle, Jiang Yan held the reins with one hand and the handle with the other, effectively caging Jiang Ji against his chest, secure and steady.

“I may have lost my memory,” Jiang Yan said lowly near his ear, “so I don’t know how skilled I am at riding. Just behave and don’t move.”

The deep voice right beside his ear made Jiang Ji scratch at it awkwardly. “Oh… alright.”

He stayed quiet for a while, but soon turned his head again. “Hey, Jiang Yan—”

As he spoke, his nose brushed right past Jiang Yan’s lips, cutting his words short. Jiang Ji froze, staring at the man’s face so close to his own that he forgot what he was saying.

He hadn’t realized their faces were that near—just a small turn and they’d touched. He could feel Jiang Yan’s breath on his skin, ticklish and warm.

And—why the lips? Shouldn’t it have been the cheek at most?

Jiang Ji turned back around quickly and rubbed at his nose.

Jiang Yan paused for a heartbeat, glanced at him, then looked straight ahead again. “What did you say?” he asked beside his ear.

Jiang Ji tilted his head. “Oh, I was asking if you remembered anything.”

The wind was loud; Jiang Yan didn’t catch it and leaned closer, ear brushing near Jiang Ji’s lips. “What?”

Jiang Ji: “…”

He gave up, turned around, and cupped a hand around Jiang Yan’s ear. Leaning in, he shouted, “You can ride a horse—so I asked if it reminded you of anything! Did you hear that?”

Jiang Yan nodded, indeed feeling that the speed, the wind, and the rhythmic pounding hooves stirred a faint, familiar sense within him.

When he didn’t reply, Jiang Ji turned again. “So? Did it come back to you?”

Jiang Yan glanced down at him and shook his head. “No. Just… feels familiar.”

“Oh, got it.”

He turned his head, his posture crooked. Jiang Yan’s arm tightened around his waist. “Sit properly. Stop wriggling.”

“…Fine.”

Pingnan County was only seventy or eighty li from Changping. They changed horses once and arrived in about an hour.

It hadn’t felt too bad while riding, just bumpy, but once they dismounted at the county office, Jiang Ji’s legs gave out beneath him—he nearly stumbled.

Jiang Yan reached out immediately, steadying him with an arm around his waist. “You alright?”

Clinging to his back, Jiang Ji looked up pitifully. “Why do my legs feel weak?”

Jiang Yan chuckled softly. “You’re just sore from the long ride. It’s normal for a first time.”

“Oh.” Jiang Ji clung to his shoulder and tried to walk, only to suck in a sharp breath through his teeth.

“What is it?” Jiang Yan asked, looking down.

Jiang Ji rubbed at the inside of his thigh. “It hurts a little.”

“Probably chafed. We’ll check once we’re inside.”

At the gate, they were led to the main hall, where Lord Chen and the local county magistrate were already waiting.

Lord Chen stood with a smile. “You made good time.”

Jiang Ji grinned. “It’s thanks to the horses you left us, sir—they run fast.”

Lord Chen introduced them to the county magistrate and said, “Brother Jiang, it’s about lunchtime. Shall we talk while we eat?”

“Sounds good.”

Jiang Yan asked the magistrate, “Sir, would there be a spare room? We should wash up first.”

“Oh yes, yes—my oversight,” the magistrate said. “You’ve come a long way on horseback; of course you should rest and freshen up.”

He called for attendants to show them to a prepared guest room.

Once inside, they set down their packs. Jiang Yan lifted his chin slightly. “Take off your pants—let’s check your leg.”

Jiang Ji didn’t bother pretending to be shy. He pulled them down and looked.

Facing away, Jiang Yan asked, “How is it?”

“It’s red.” Jiang Ji touched the spot—it was hot and stung. “Hurts a bit when I press it.”

“Let me see.” Jiang Yan turned around and found Jiang Ji half-undressed, one trouser leg off. From the knee down his skin was tanned, but his thighs were pale enough to catch the light. The inside of his thigh was indeed bright red.

Jiang Yan crouched down for a closer look. “No broken skin. Wait here—I’ll get some ointment.”

He came back quickly. Jiang Ji had already washed his face and gotten dressed.

Handing him the medicine, Jiang Yan asked, “The other side’s not rubbed raw, is it?”

“No, it’s fine. Should be better by tomorrow after some ointment.” Jiang Ji took it and pulled his pants down again to apply it.

Watching the red patch on his leg, Jiang Yan couldn’t help but chuckle. “Didn’t expect your skin to be that delicate.”

Jiang Ji looked up, unconvinced. “This area never gets any use, of course it’s soft. What, your inner thigh isn’t?”

Jiang Yan shook his head. “I rode the same distance and I’m fine.”

Jiang Ji pouted. “I don’t believe you—prove it.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

He turned away and started washing his face instead.

“What are you walking off for? Seeing is believing, you know. I won’t believe you till I see it. Maybe you’re lying!”

Jiang Yan ignored him.

Once Jiang Ji finished applying the ointment and pulled his trousers back on, he lunged and wrapped his arms around Jiang Yan. “Come on—show me!”

Jiang Yan, steady as a rock, barely budged at the sudden attack. “I told you, I’m telling the truth.”

“You’re bluffing,” Jiang Ji accused. “You’re definitely hiding it!”

He reached for Jiang Yan’s waistband with a mischievous grin. “Heh, fine, I’ll check myself then!”

Jiang Yan grabbed his hand in an instant. “Stop messing around.”

“I just want to see what this ‘not-soft’ thigh looks like—”

One trying to look, the other trying to block him—in the scuffle, Jiang Ji accidentally bumped into a nearby shelf and lost his balance, falling backward.

“Careful.” Jiang Yan quickly caught him around the waist before he could fall.

Pulled straight into Jiang Yan’s arms, Jiang Ji looked up in surprise—right into his eyes.

For a moment, neither spoke. Their gazes locked, and even the air between them seemed to still.

After a few heartbeats, Jiang Ji blinked and came back to himself. Standing upright again, he said, “…Almost fell. Thanks.”

“Mm. Be careful,” Jiang Yan replied, letting go and turning to hang the towel back on the rack.

From outside came a call: “Brothers, are you done washing up? The officials are waiting for you to eat!”

“Coming!” Jiang Ji rubbed at his nose and said to Jiang Yan, “I bet you used to ride a lot before, that’s why it doesn’t hurt—you’re used to it.”

Jiang Yan glanced at him and nodded. “Mm. Probably.”

“Come on then, let’s eat.” Jiang Ji opened the door and walked out first.

“Alright.”

Jiang Yan watched his back for a second, then followed after him.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

“Where is he?” Magistrate Xu shot to his feet.

The yamen runner wiped the sweat from his forehead—he had clearly run all the way there. “He should… he should already be on the country road, sir. I came ahead to report first.”

“Good, I understand.” Magistrate Xu thought for a moment, then walked over to Jiang Ji and whispered, “The Prefect has arrived—he’ll be here any moment.”

“What? The Prefect?” Jiang Ji paused mid-writing. He remembered what Magistrate Xu had said about this man’s greed and frowned. “Why is he coming now, of all times? We’re in the middle of work.”

Magistrate Xu lowered his voice. “Just stay put and keep busy. I’ll receive him myself. If he asks to see you, I’ll call you over. But be prepared.”

“Alright. Thank you, sir.”

Magistrate Xu went to the gate with his attendants to greet the visitor. Jiang Ji leaned toward Jiang Yan and murmured, “We should stay sharp—keep an eye out.”

Jiang Yan nodded.

About fifteen minutes later, two carriages stopped at the entrance to the manor. From one of them stepped a man nearing fifty, heavyset and richly dressed, assisted down by attendants.

Magistrate Xu and his men were already waiting at the gate. As soon as they saw him, they bowed deeply. “This humble official greets Your Excellency.”

The Prefect’s name was Hu Yuanwu. He wasn’t wearing his formal robe; instead, he held a string of prayer beads, rolling them idly between his fingers.

He first glanced around the manor yard, noting the villagers carrying sacks of seeds, before finally looking at Magistrate Xu. “Hmm. So this is the place selling those new rice seeds you mentioned?”

“Yes, Your Excellency,” Magistrate Xu replied with a nod. “Would you care to step inside and take a look?”

“Let’s go.” Prefect Hu lifted his chin slightly, signaling for Magistrate Xu to lead the way.

Magistrate Xu walked ahead, giving a report on their progress as they went.

Prefect Hu had brought about a dozen people with him—not only his adviser, clerks, and guards, but also two maidservants. The whole entourage looked imposing as they entered the manor.

Many villagers, upon seeing Magistrate Xu, greeted him warmly. When they noticed the richly dressed man following beside him, they quickly stepped aside to make way, sensing he must be someone of high rank.

Magistrate Xu had planned to welcome Prefect Hu into the main hall first—it had already been cleared and cleaned, perfect for receiving guests—but Prefect Hu waved his hand. “Let’s go to the back and see where the seeds are being sold.”

Magistrate Xu paused briefly, then led the group toward the rear warehouse.

Villagers were lined up there in neat order, some entering while others exited, each carrying baskets of seeds. Everything ran smoothly.

Prefect Hu glanced at the baskets filled with sweet potatoes and potatoes, then looked toward the entrance where two tables had been set up. Beside each table stood a large wooden chest—both nearly filled with copper coins and broken pieces of silver.

He looked into the warehouse, seeing that about half the stock of seeds was already gone. “How many people have bought so far?” he asked.

“Reporting to Your Excellency,” said Magistrate Xu respectfully, bowing his head. “About sixty to seventy percent of the villagers have purchased already.”

Prefect Hu pointed toward the room. “There’s still thirty or forty percent left. That doesn’t seem like enough seeds to supply the rest, does it?”

Magistrate Xu glanced at him and replied, “Indeed, but there’s another warehouse.”

“Oh? Is that so? Take me to see it.”

Magistrate Xu hesitated briefly. “Yes, it’s this way, please follow me, Your Excellency.”

He discreetly signaled to his adviser to fetch the key from Jiang Ji.

Jiang Ji came over with the adviser and opened the warehouse door.

Full—stacked to the rafters.

Prefect Hu’s eyes gleamed as he looked over the piles of seed sacks. He rolled the prayer beads in his hand and nodded approvingly. “Excellent. Magistrate Xu, you’ve done well to discover these high-yield rice seeds and new crop varieties, and to distribute them so quickly across the county. This is a great achievement—a true blessing for the people.”

“I am only doing my duty,” Magistrate Xu said humbly with a slight bow. “And actually, these rice and crop seeds weren’t brought back by me—they were brought by a villager here. I merely assisted in promoting them. I dare not claim credit.”

“Ah, Magistrate Xu, you are too modest.” Prefect Hu smiled broadly, his tone oily with flattery. “Under your governance, the people of Changping County live in peace and prosperity. You deserve great merit. I shall certainly report this to my superiors and recommend you for commendation.”

“Thank you, Your Excellency,” Magistrate Xu replied, clasping his hands and bowing slightly. “Your Excellency, the sun is rather strong out here. You must be tired from your long journey. How about we move to the front hall for some rest? Later, when we return to the city, I’ll host a banquet in your honor.”

“Hmm, very well. Let’s sit up front for a bit first.” Prefect Hu patted his round belly and nodded.

Magistrate Xu gave Jiang Ji a subtle look, then led Prefect Hu toward the main hall.

On the way, Prefect Hu made a few polite remarks before asking casually, “You mentioned that the villager who brought the seeds is here? I’d like to meet him.”

Magistrate Xu paused slightly, then replied, “I’ll send someone to bring him over right away.”

Not long after, Jiang Ji was summoned to the main hall. Jiang Yan, uneasy about the situation, followed with him.

As they entered, they caught sight of Prefect Hu spitting the tea he’d just sipped back into his cup.

Jiang Ji: “…”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Magistrate Xu immediately stood and apologized, “My apologies, Your Excellency. This is a rural place; we don’t have any good tea to offer.”

“It’s fine. Let me share some of mine.” Prefect Hu wiped his mouth and waved his hand.

At once, his two maids brought out fine porcelain cups and began brewing tea from a canister of leaves they had brought with them.

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan exchanged a brief look, composed their expressions, and stepped forward together. They clasped their hands and bowed. “This humble commoner greets Your Excellencies.”

Prefect Hu looked them over. Both were dressed plainly in coarse short-sleeved shirts—the garb of peasants. One was dark-skinned and straightforward-looking; the other was fairer, appearing quiet and honest.

He turned to Magistrate Xu. “These two?”

“Yes, Your Excellency.” Magistrate Xu observed the pair—unlike their usual sharp, confident demeanor, they now appeared simple and deferential. He wasn’t sure what game they were playing, but said nothing. Instead, he gestured toward them and introduced, “Your Excellency, these are the two young men—this one is Jiang Ji, and that one is Jiang Yan.”

Then he turned to them. “This is Prefect Hu.”

The two bowed again. “Greetings, Prefect Hu.”

“No need for excessive formality. Sit.” Prefect Hu gestured to the seats beside him.

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan sat down.

Magistrate Xu didn’t continue the conversation, leaving room for the Prefect to speak. The maids served tea, and Prefect Hu motioned to them. “Pour for the two young men as well.”

The maids handed each of them a cup.

“This is tea I got from a friend,” Prefect Hu said with a smile. “Have a taste.”

After a few sips, Magistrate Xu commented, “Rich aroma, clear liquor, and a lingering aftertaste—a fine tea indeed.”

Prefect Hu smiled, rolling his prayer beads. He turned to Jiang Ji. “And what do you think?”

Jiang Ji scratched his head and replied, “This humble villager isn’t refined enough to know good tea from bad, but since Your Excellency offered it, it must be good—and it tastes fine to me.”

Prefect Hu burst into hearty laughter. “As long as it tastes good, that’s what matters.”

He then asked, “I heard from Magistrate Xu that these seeds were brought from the south?”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Prefect Hu continued, “You bought them from a traveling merchant, then?”

“Yes.”

“Oh?” Prefect Hu smiled, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Jiang Ji. “That’s quite a large quantity of seeds. Must have been hard work, hmm?”

“It’s alright, I had some help,” Jiang Ji replied with an easy smile.

Prefect Hu’s expression was kindly. “Young man, bringing in these seeds is a great merit. Magistrate Xu told me you even recorded and organized all the planting methods yourself—excellent work. Keep it up. If the crops grow well and yield a good harvest this summer, I shall personally petition the court to recognize your service. The imperial government will surely reward you.”

He sounded every bit the benevolent official, offering grand promises. Jiang Ji played along, standing up and bowing gratefully. “Thank you, sir. I just wanted everyone to harvest more grain and not go hungry.”

“Ah, what an honest young man.” Prefect Hu smiled warmly. “No need for such formality—sit, sit.” Then he turned to Magistrate Xu. “Magistrate Xu, this young fellow is remarkable, isn’t he?”

Magistrate Xu nodded repeatedly. “Indeed, Your Excellency is right. Young Jiang Ji has a generous heart.”

Prefect Hu chatted a little longer with polite flattery before suddenly waving a hand to his adviser. The adviser immediately led everyone else out of the hall.

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan exchanged a quick look—they both knew this was where the real conversation would begin.

Magistrate Xu glanced at Jiang Ji, then asked uncertainly, “Your Excellency, what is this about?”

Prefect Hu smiled. “Nothing much. I just wish to discuss a small matter with this young man.”

Magistrate Xu quickly stood. “Oh, then perhaps I should—”

“No, no need,” Prefect Hu waved his hand. “You stay. Just listen.”

So Magistrate Xu sat back down.

The hall fell silent—you could hear a pin drop.

Prefect Hu took a sip of tea and began, “Now then, these high-yield rice seeds and new crops are a fine thing indeed. I would like to promote them throughout the entire prefecture, so that everyone can plant them, have good harvests, and fill their bellies. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

Magistrate Xu nodded. “A good thing, of course.”

Jiang Ji nodded too. “That’s what I think as well.”

Prefect Hu smiled broadly. “Excellent. It’s wonderful that you’re willing to expand this across the prefecture. But you see, young man, your family’s means are limited and you don’t have enough people to handle this properly. So here’s what I suggest—bring this merchant of yours to meet me. I’ll speak with him directly and have him deliver more seeds here. Then the prefectural office can assign men to distribute them. That way, some areas can still catch the spring planting season. Don’t you think that would be much faster?”

Magistrate Xu: “…”
Jiang Ji, Jiang Yan: “…”

Jiang Ji scratched his head. “Well, to be honest, Your Excellency, I do want to spread these seeds around, but my family is poor—we also rely on selling them to make a little money to live.”

Prefect Hu raised his brows. “You’ve already sold enough seed to supply an entire county! That should be more than enough for your family to live comfortably for life. My young friend, you’re no longer struggling to eat—but across the prefecture, countless common folk are still starving. Can you bear to let that happen?”

Jiang Yan and Magistrate Xu: “…”
Jiang Ji: “…It’s really not that much money.”

Prefect Hu continued earnestly, tone dripping with moral righteousness. “This new seed is a blessing for the people of the whole prefecture. To ensure everyone can eat, rest assured—the government won’t take a single coin in profit. Whatever price the merchant sells to us for, that exact price will be passed to the villagers.”

Jiang Ji clasped his hands. “Such integrity! I deeply admire Your Excellency’s virtue.”

Prefect Hu sighed with mock humility. “It’s my duty as the parent official of Yun Prefecture—I must think of all my people’s hunger.”

Jiang Ji blinked innocently and followed up smoothly, “You’re truly kind, Your Excellency. In that case, why don’t I write a letter to the merchants, asking them to send as many seeds as possible to each county directly? That way, villagers can buy straight from them, and it’ll save you the trouble of managing all this personally. How about that?”

Prefect Hu: “…”

Magistrate Xu looked at Jiang Ji, lips twitching.

Jiang Yan took a calm sip of tea, hiding the smirk in his eyes.

Prefect Hu’s smile froze. He stared at the dark-skinned youth before him, trying to tell whether he was being deliberately obtuse. But no matter how he looked, the boy seemed perfectly sincere—straightforward, even grateful.

The prefect’s jaw ached with frustration. How can someone this simple be so difficult to handle?

He couldn’t just spell out what he wanted—not with Magistrate Xu sitting right there. The man was upright and incorruptible; if he caught wind of anything shady, he might even report it to the provincial governor.

Prefect Hu had hoped to take the clean, “official” route, but it was clear now—he’d need to find another opportunity to meet these two brothers privately.

He forced a genial smile. “Ah, young man, you don’t quite understand. As the Prefect of this region, I naturally have certain administrative privileges—it’s much easier for me to arrange these things.”

“Oh, then why don’t you issue an official decree to the other county magistrates?” Jiang Ji suggested brightly. “If they all cooperate like Magistrate Xu here, it’ll spread quickly!”

Prefect Hu looked at him, then at Magistrate Xu, and let out a laugh that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yes, Magistrate Xu is truly a model of benevolence—an example to his peers.”

Jiang Ji nodded earnestly. “Yes, coordination between the county offices is key. That’s the fastest way to spread it.”

Prefect Hu: “…”

“Well then,” he said finally, forcing his tone back to polite calm, “why don’t you think it over? I’ve just arrived and I’m rather tired. I’ll return to the county to rest, and we can talk more another day.”

He set down his teacup, turned to Magistrate Xu, and said, “Magistrate Xu, shall we head back?”

Magistrate Xu rose and replied smoothly, “You’ve worked hard, Your Excellency. I’ll accompany you back. Jiang Ji, take care of things here.”

“Yes, sir.” Jiang Ji stood, and he and Jiang Yan escorted the two officials out of the manor.

Watching the carriage disappear down the road, Jiang Ji’s expression changed—his previously naive look vanished as he crossed his arms and muttered, “That man really has no shame.”

“He’ll probably come back,” Jiang Yan said, glancing at him. “You acted the part well.”

“Heh, nothing to it.” Jiang Ji slung an arm over Jiang Yan’s shoulder. “Come on, back to work. Still plenty of people waiting.”

Jiang Yan glanced at the hand on his shoulder, then nodded. “Mm. Let’s go.”

The two of them walked back, shoulder to shoulder.

When Zhao Ru heard that the prefect had come, she hurried from the kitchen to find them. Seeing they’d returned safely, she asked in a low voice, “You’re alright?”

“Mother, we’re fine. Don’t worry.”

“Truly?”

“Truly. I can handle it.”

Only then did Zhao Ru relax and return to the kitchen.

…

The next day, Prefect Hu and Magistrate Xu didn’t show up. Instead, Hu’s adviser came with the assistant magistrate and met with Jiang Ji privately. He said that once the seed sale was finished, Prefect Hu would host a banquet in the city to honor him.

Jiang Ji acted surprised and grateful, agreeing readily.

Another day passed. By midday, all the seeds were finally sold out. While Zhao Ru and the village head’s family cleaned up the manor, Jiang Ji borrowed Magistrate Xu’s carriage. He and Jiang Yan loaded the large chests filled with silver coins onto it and went back to town with the yamen runners, then headed straight to the money exchange to trade them for silver notes.

There was so much silver that it filled several chests. Jiang Ji didn’t dare keep it at home—it wasn’t safe—so after discussing it with Zhao Ru, he decided to send everything to the exchange while they had the yamen guards as protection.

The counting took a long time. Most villagers had paid in copper coins or small pieces of silver; only the minor landlords had paid with silver notes. Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan counted once, the moneychanger’s clerks counted again—it wasn’t until mid-afternoon that the total was confirmed.

Twenty-seven thousand eight hundred taels. Jiang Ji converted nearly all of it into silver notes—some in large denominations, some smaller—and stored them separately, leaving only a little loose silver for personal use.

When they left the exchange, neither of them had eaten lunch yet. Jiang Ji dragged Jiang Yan into a restaurant and ordered a private room.

After ordering dishes, he told Jiang Yan to keep an eye on the door, then quickly pulled a modern shoulder bag out of his system’s storage. He packed all the silver notes inside, keeping only a bit of silver for the evening’s banquet.

He slung the small bag under his inner clothes, then put on a thicker outer layer. His waist looked a little bulky, but it was safer that way. The pockets on ancient clothing just couldn’t be trusted.

…

That evening, Jiang Ji hosted a banquet at the best restaurant in town for the yamen runners, the two bookkeepers, and Magistrate Xu’s adviser. Since Magistrate Xu and the assistant magistrate had to avoid appearances of favoritism, they didn’t attend; Jiang Ji planned to invite them privately in a few days.

After the meal, Jiang Ji discreetly handed each yamen runner a silver note worth ten taels.

By the time dinner ended, the city gates were already closed. He and Jiang Yan found an inn and stayed the night. The next morning, they stopped by the county office to greet Magistrate Xu before hurrying home.

Once home, Jiang Ji used his points to exchange for a sturdy wooden chest and a modern safe.

He placed all the silver notes inside the wooden box and handed it to Zhao Ru.

“Mother, we made twenty-seven thousand eight hundred taels this time. Here are twenty-seven thousand in silver notes. Only you, Jiang Yan, and I—and the money exchange clerks—know how much we earned. Everything goes in this safe.”

Zhao Ru stared at the thick stack of notes, eyes wide. “You said how much?”

“Twenty-seven thousand eight hundred or so.”

Her hands trembled as she held the chest. “T-twenty-seven thousand eight hundred?”

“Yes.” Jiang Ji clasped her shaking hands gently. “Mother, we’ll make even more in the future, so be prepared.”

“Good heavens, that much!” Zhao Ru had never seen so many silver notes in her life. Nearly faint with excitement, she hurriedly shoved the chest back into Jiang Ji’s hands. “Quick, put it away! You said it goes in that box? Hurry—lock it up, I’ll find a lock!”

Jiang Ji laughed, catching her by the arm. “Mother, this box doesn’t use a regular lock. It’s a divine one—let me show you.”

He placed the money chest inside the safe, reset the passcode to the date he’d first arrived in this world, and then showed Zhao Ru how to open it.

Just one look at the box told Zhao Ru it was something otherworldly—made of material she didn’t recognize, with markings she couldn’t read—but she memorized the positions and order of the buttons.

With both a passcode and a key, Jiang Ji had her practice twice until he was sure she remembered.

“This is much safer than our wooden chests,” Zhao Ru said, hefting the heavy safe. “Is it made of iron?”

Not knowing how to explain stainless steel, Jiang Ji nodded. “Something like that. Oh, and Mother—don’t tell Jiang Nan or Jiang Bei how much we actually made.”

Zhao Ru nodded. “I understand. What about the rest of the village?”

“Don’t give exact numbers—just say we earned a bit. Tonight, let’s invite the village head and Uncle Tu Gen for dinner to thank them for their help. I already gave the yamen brothers ten taels each as thanks, and I was thinking of giving the same to Uncle Tu Gen and the others. Do you think that’s alright?”

Jiang Ji wasn’t sure what was proper for village etiquette when it came to showing gratitude with money.

There were twelve people in total who’d helped: nine men including the village head and Uncle Tu Gen, and three women—Aunt Xiufang, the village head’s wife, and his daughter-in-law.

“That’s fine,” Zhao Ru said. In the past, she would’ve been reluctant to part with that much silver—but now, though she still winced inwardly, she knew it had to be done.

After a moment of thought, she asked, “Do you still have new seeds?”

“I do. Why?”

“You said we were going to plant that chili pepper, didn’t you?” Zhao Ru said. “Let them plant some too. It doesn’t matter how much—they’ll understand we’re showing goodwill. If they want to grow it, good; if not, that’s fine too.”

“Alright, that’s fine.”

These people had all seen the chests full of silver—so they could more or less guess how much Jiang Ji had earned. Winning them over now would make things much easier in the future.

Jiang Ji then asked, “By the way, is the manor all cleaned up?”

“It’s done. Everything’s been tidied. We used our own bedding, didn’t touch theirs. Oh, here’s the key.” Zhao Ru took the key from her chest pocket and handed it to Jiang Ji.

“Good. Tomorrow I’ll return it to the Lin family and thank them properly.” Jiang Ji took the key to Lin Manor, then handed her the key to the safe. “Mother, keep this one safe.”

“Alright.” Zhao Ru wrapped the safe in a piece of black cloth. “Will mice bite through this thing?”

“They can’t.”

Zhao Ru hesitated about where to put it. She first tried under the bed, but after thinking for a bit, she carried it back out. Jiang Ji watched as she fetched a hoe, moved aside two clothing chests, lifted the wooden boards beneath them, and started digging a large hole in the floor.

“Mother, you’re putting it in there?”

“Yes, it’s safer this way.”

Jiang Ji blinked. “Then let’s take out a bit of money first so you don’t have to dig it up every time.”

“Alright, go ahead.”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment, opened the safe, and took out a silver note worth a thousand taels.

When Zhao Ru finished digging, she found a wooden box big enough to hold the safe, placed it inside, then buried it under the floor again.

Finally, she replaced the boards and set the clothing chests back in place, covering every trace of the digging.

Jiang Ji: … This was extreme security.

Even if thieves came and rummaged through everything, they’d never think to pry up the floorboards beneath the chests.

Around noon, one of Prefect Hu’s attendants arrived to invite Jiang Ji to meet at a restaurant in the city the next day. Jiang Ji agreed.

That night, Jiang Ji’s family prepared good food and wine to host a dinner for everyone who had helped.

During the meal, he mentioned the plan to grow chili peppers. By now, everyone was curious about the new crops Jiang Ji kept introducing. Uncle Tu Gen and the village head immediately said they wanted to plant some, while the younger men—who weren’t heads of their households—said they’d discuss it with their families first.

When the feast ended, Jiang Ji slipped a silver ingot into each person’s hands. Everyone was shocked—it was a ten-tael ingot!

They all hurried to refuse.

But Jiang Ji insisted earnestly, “Uncles, aunties, brothers, please don’t be polite with me. There’ll be many things in the future where I’ll need your help. If you don’t take this, I won’t have the face to ask for help again.”

Seeing his sincerity, everyone smiled and accepted the gift.

…

The next day, Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan went to the city. First they returned the key to the Lin family, then stopped by the county office to greet Magistrate Xu. Around noon, they headed to the restaurant where Prefect Hu had arranged to meet.

When they arrived, they noticed the main hall of the restaurant was completely empty. Curious, they asked the waiter, who told them someone had reserved the entire place.

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan exchanged a glance and followed the waiter upstairs, taking a table by the window, where they could see both the street below and the restaurant entrance.

Not long after they sat down, Prefect Hu entered with his adviser.

After some polite small talk and three rounds of wine, Prefect Hu, having tested Jiang Ji several times without getting a straight answer, gave a subtle signal to his adviser.

The adviser lifted the wine pot, poured Jiang Ji a full cup, and said, “Brother Jiang Ji, tell me—would you like to make even more money? Maybe buy yourself a grand house?”

Jiang Ji had drunk a few cups, but his mind was clear. He nodded readily. “Of course I would! I dream of it. I want to live in a big house and let my mother rest easy.”

“You’re a good, filial son.” The adviser smiled smoothly. “You’ve earned a bit already, yes—but there’s still a long road to real wealth. We happen to have a good way for you to make big money. The only question is—do you want to?”

“What way?” Jiang Ji asked.

Lowering his voice, the adviser said, “Introduce that southern merchant to us. We can expand sales across the entire prefecture. You’ll get a ten-percent share of the profit. How about it?”

Jiang Ji’s eyes widened. “Didn’t you say you weren’t taking any money?”

The adviser laughed awkwardly. “Ah, just a little compensation for labor, you know—distributing seeds takes manpower. You hired the county office and villagers too, didn’t you?”

“Well, that’s true,” Jiang Ji said, nodding vaguely.

Prefect Hu cut in, “So, how many more seeds can this merchant deliver?”

“I’m not sure,” Jiang Ji said, shaking his head. “He told me last time there wasn’t much left. For this spring season, he might only manage one more delivery—probably enough for half a county at most.”

Prefect Hu’s eyes widened. “What? Only that little?”

“Yeah,” Jiang Ji said, swaying a little as if tipsy. “It’s a long trip for him. Honestly, there’s not much profit in it. After paying him for the seeds, I only made a bit over a thousand taels.”

He smacked the table and grabbed the adviser’s arm, complaining tearfully, “A whole county! So many families! I worked day and night for over a month, ran myself ragged—and only made a thousand taels! Tell me, tell me, why is making money so hard?!”

Then he clung to the adviser’s arm, sobbing. “If I set the price high, farmers can’t afford it. If I set it low, I lose money! They were afraid to buy new seeds, so I had to write planting guides and go village to village to teach them! I talked until my mouth went dry and gave away so many sweet potatoes and potatoes just to prove it worked! Sir, why is earning money so hard?!”

The adviser froze completely, not knowing where to put his hands.

Prefect Hu stared at the weeping young man in disbelief, utterly speechless. He began to reconsider whether it was even worth asking further.

Only half a county’s worth of seeds left—and barely any profit to be made. Even if the second rice harvest came, there’d be no more sweet potatoes, potatoes, corn, or cotton left to sell. Just rice seeds wouldn’t bring much.

If there was money to be made, it would have to wait until next spring. Still, he needed to at least find out who that merchant was—or where in the south he came from.

Jiang Yan watched Jiang Ji, the corner of his eye twitching, but still reached over to pull him away from the adviser. “What are you crying for? You drink a little and start bawling—look, you’ve gotten the adviser’s clothes all dirty. Stop crying.”

Jiang Ji turned and clung to Jiang Yan instead, wailing, “Jiang Yan, I’m so tired! How did I work so hard and still earn so little? If I build just one decent house, all the money’s gone—gone!”

Jiang Yan glanced toward the window, then pinched Jiang Ji’s arm lightly, muttering, “…If it’s gone, we’ll just find another way to make money.” He had no idea how to keep this act going.

Jiang Ji suddenly lifted his head from Jiang Yan’s shoulder. “You have a way to make money?”

Jiang Yan shook his head. “No.”

“Then why say that!” Jiang Ji scolded and promptly threw himself back into Jiang Yan’s arms, sobbing harder. Between hiccups he cried out toward Prefect Hu, “Lord Hu! You said you’d teach me how to make money—what do I have to do?”

The noise gave Prefect Hu a headache. He slammed his palm against the table. “Enough! Stop crying!”

Jiang Ji flinched, instantly falling silent—except for a small hiccup. His eyes were red and watery as he looked up at the prefect.

“You—” Prefect Hu pointed at him. “Tell me the merchant’s name and how to contact him.”

“Hic… Your Excellency, there’s no big money to be made in this.”

“Not talking, eh?” Prefect Hu’s patience snapped. He’d been hoping to profit from this seed trade, but now it seemed there were no seeds left—and his temper was already frayed. “Don’t refuse a toast only to be forced to drink the punishment wine! I’m warning you.”

At once, four burly men entered the private room, positioning themselves around Jiang Ji.

Startled, Jiang Ji let out another loud hiccup and shrank against Jiang Yan. “S-sir, what are you doing?”

Jiang Yan immediately stood, one arm shielding Jiang Ji’s shoulders. His voice turned cold. “Lord Hu, as a parent official of the people, are you resorting to coercion and violence?”

Prefect Hu sneered. “And what if I am? When I wish to buy, you must sell.” He rose, wiping his hands and mouth with a cloth, and ordered the men, “Take him. Get me the answers—whatever it takes.”

He tossed the cloth aside and turned to leave.

Just then, the door burst open. Magistrate Xu entered with several yamen officers.

He looked around the room in confusion. “Lord Hu, what’s going on here?”

Prefect Hu frowned. “What are you doing here?”

Seeing Magistrate Xu, Jiang Ji immediately shouted, “Sir! Help me!”

Magistrate Xu glanced at him—tear-streaked and trembling—and frowned. “Lord Hu, may I ask what offense this young man has committed?”

Prefect Hu gave a cold laugh. “Nothing serious. He was disrespectful to me. I was merely going to teach him a small lesson.”

“That’s not true!” Jiang Ji cried. “He demanded the merchant’s name—he wants to buy seeds from him and sell them at higher prices! I wouldn’t tell him, so he ordered his men to seize me and use torture!”

“Utter nonsense!” Prefect Hu snapped. “I am a prefect of the realm—do you think I’d stoop to eyeing your petty profits?”

“Oh?” Magistrate Xu didn’t press further. Instead, he stepped aside to reveal the people behind him. “Lord Hu, the Provincial Inspector has sent someone.”

“The Provincial Inspector?” Prefect Hu froze, and when he saw who it was, his expression soured. “Lord Chen.”

A man in a blue robe stepped forward from behind Magistrate Xu. He scanned the room, then cupped his hands politely toward Prefect Hu. “Lord Hu, the Inspector has sent me with an official letter for both you and Magistrate Xu.”

He drew a folded document from his robe and handed it over.

Prefect Hu accepted it, broke the seal, and read—his face darkened.

“What does the Inspector say?” Magistrate Xu asked.

Prefect Hu thrust the letter toward him and shot him a furious glare.

Magistrate Xu ignored the look, took the letter, and read it carefully. When he finished, he bowed toward the man in blue. “Please convey to the Inspector that I will devote my utmost effort to carrying out this matter.”

Lord Chen nodded, then turned to Prefect Hu. “And you, Lord Hu?”

Prefect Hu’s face was grim, but he nodded stiffly. “I understand. I will not fail in my duty.”

Lord Chen smiled faintly. “The Inspector places great importance on this project. He expects both of you to treat it seriously. He’ll personally come to inspect the results in a month’s time.”

Magistrate Xu bowed again. “Yes, we will ensure it’s done well.”

Prefect Hu nodded. “Understood.”

Then Lord Chen looked toward Jiang Ji. “Which of you is the young man who introduced the high-yield rice and new crops?”

Jiang Ji stepped forward. “That would be me.”

“Ah.” Lord Chen turned to Prefect Hu. “And how, may I ask, did this young man manage to offend you?”

Prefect Hu waved a hand irritably, and the guards released Jiang Ji.

Jiang Ji wiped his face, his eyes now clear and sharp. He stepped forward, bowed low, and said firmly, “Commoner Jiang Ji greets Your Excellency.”

Lord Chen studied him—and the quiet, watchful Jiang Yan behind him. “The Inspector has heard about your introduction of new seeds and crops. He is pleased and considers it an important achievement. He has ordered Prefect Hu and Magistrate Xu to fully support your work in spreading these seeds. I will also visit from time to time to oversee the progress.”

He added, “Please bring in as many seeds as you can, and make sure the people learn how to cultivate them. When the Inspector visits, if the results are satisfactory, he will personally submit a memorial to the court to have you rewarded. Take this seriously.”

Jiang Ji bowed deeply. “Yes, sir. I will not fail his expectations.”

“Excellent.” Lord Chen nodded, then turned to Prefect Hu. “The Inspector also asked me to deliver a few words to you, Lord Hu. Shall we discuss them elsewhere?”

“Of course. Please.”

Prefect Hu followed Lord Chen out to another private room.

Magistrate Xu led Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan downstairs.

At the entrance of the restaurant, Jiang Ji thanked him earnestly. “Sir, thank goodness you came when you did. He was about to have me beaten.”

“Frightened?” Magistrate Xu looked at his face and said dryly, “You cried so loud I could hear it from outside.”

Jiang Ji scratched his head awkwardly. “Ah, there wasn’t much else I could do. Sorry for the spectacle, sir.”

Magistrate Xu lightly tapped him on the shoulder, smiling without replying.

Jiang Ji lowered his voice. “He won’t dare try anything against me again, will he?”

“No, he won’t,” said Magistrate Xu.

Jiang Ji asked softly, “Who is that Lord Chen?”

“He’s the agricultural affairs adviser under the Provincial Inspector’s office,” Xu explained.

“Oh, impressive.” Jiang Ji didn’t really know what that title meant, but he caught the words “agricultural affairs.” In his mind, that probably meant something like the provincial head of agriculture—or even a minister.

Anyway, he was someone in charge of farming, and that was what mattered.

Magistrate Xu asked, “Can you still get more seeds? If you have enough, we can expand distribution to neighboring counties. Lord Chen can order the local governments there to assist you.”

“Yes, I can still get some rice and cotton seeds. A small amount of sweet potato seeds too, but not many left.” (His points were nearly all spent, after all.)

“Then make a rough count of what you have. Come to the county office tomorrow morning to discuss the details with the lord.”

“Alright.”

“Good. Everything’s fine now—you two can head home.”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

The two of them took their leave and exited the city. Jiang Ji let out a long breath of relief. Acting really was exhausting.

That morning, when they’d gone to the county office, Magistrate Xu had already told them that the Provincial Inspector’s envoy had arrived the day before. He’d told them to go to the meeting without worry, and that if they could make Lord Chen personally witness Prefect Hu’s greed, all the better.

So Jiang Ji had put on that whole act just to buy time for Magistrate Xu to bring Lord Chen to the restaurant.

“Magistrate Xu sure has a tough boss,” Jiang Ji sighed. “Even has to play mind games like that.”

Jiang Yan nodded. “The government is like a battlefield.”

“Luckily, it’s settled now!” Jiang Ji stretched his back.

Jiang Yan’s lips curved slightly. “You can finally sleep in peace.”

“Exactly. Come on, let’s go home and get a good rest!” Jiang Ji walked a few steps in high spirits, then said, “Jiang Yan, tomorrow when we meet the lord, let’s suggest sending the remaining seeds to Pingnan County.”

“Sounds good,” Jiang Yan replied.

Jiang Ji turned his head to look at him. “You know, I don’t think you’re from our county.”

Jiang Yan paused. “Why do you say that?”

“Think about it. These past few days we’ve sold seeds to nearly eighty percent of the families in the county—someone from almost every village came, but not one person recognized you. I’m guessing you’re not from around here.”

“Hmm, makes sense.” Jiang Yan asked, “You think it might be Pingnan County?”

“Yeah. Pingnan’s just south of us—maybe seventy or eighty li away. We could go there and have a look. Who knows, maybe we’ll find your family.”

Jiang Yan glanced at him and nodded. “Alright. Let’s go to Pingnan.”

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