Author Archives: Thandar

Jiang Ji moved a table over, planning to hammer four nails into the wall of the main hall to hang up the scroll.

Just as he was about to climb onto the table, Jiang Yan stopped him. “I’ll do it. You just direct me.”

Jiang Ji didn’t argue and handed him the nails and hammer.

Standing on the table, Jiang Yan positioned the first nail and asked, “Here, is this spot okay?”

Jiang Ji stood below, guiding him left and right. “A little higher… higher… okay, right there.”

Once all four nails were in, they hung the scroll. Jiang Ji crossed his arms, admiring the result from below.

“Looks great!”

Just then, the village chief came by—he’d heard Jiang Ji was back and wanted to ask about sprouting the potato seedlings. Spotting the scroll hanging in the center of the hall, he exclaimed, “Oh! ‘Wealth and Prosperity Arrives,’ that’s wonderful!”

“Hahaha, isn’t it nice? Jiang Yan wrote it!” Jiang Ji patted Jiang Yan’s shoulder, full of genuine praise. “Even the owner of the calligraphy shop couldn’t stop complimenting it.”

Jiang Yan glanced at him and smiled without saying anything, putting the hammer away.

The village chief nodded approvingly. “It’s really fine work.”

After they admired it for a bit, Jiang Ji said, “By the way, Village Chief, can you call everyone over? I want to explain the potato sprouting process.”

“I was just coming to ask you about that. Alright, I’ll go gather the folks.”

When the chief went out to round people up, Jiang Ji turned to Jiang Yan. “Oh, by the way—the calligraphy shop owner asked if you’d write him a piece. He said the price is negotiable. Want to do it?”

Jiang Yan shook his head. “No.”

Jiang Ji raised an eyebrow. “It’s paid work.”

“I’m not short on money right now,” Jiang Yan said calmly.

Jiang Ji shrugged. “Alright, I’ll let him know.”

Then he bumped Jiang Yan’s shoulder playfully. “But you’ve written two pieces for me already.”

“What I wrote for you was a favor, not a commission,” Jiang Yan said with a faint smile. “Why, are you planning to pay me now?”

“Come on, we’re friends—no need to ruin it by talking about money.” Jiang Ji chuckled, then hoisted a sack of potatoes from the corner. “Time to sprout the seedlings!”

Jiang Yan watched his back as he walked out, the corners of his mouth softening into a small smile.

The villagers soon arrived, and Jiang Yan carried out two bags of potatoes.

Jiang Ji began explaining, “You don’t need to go to the fields for this. We’ll start at home. First, lay the potatoes out to dry for two days—this wakes them from winter dormancy. Make sure to turn them so both sides get sunlight. The sun helps kill bacteria and mold on the surface—kind of like disinfecting them. Just spread them out like this.”

“After two days of drying, move them under the eaves. When you start to see sprouts forming—like these small eyes—you can cut them into pieces.”

He took out a chopping board and a knife. “Make sure the knife’s clean—boil it in water and let it cool first. Then cut like this. For potatoes this size, you can make two or three pieces. Each piece should have at least one sprout eye, preferably two. See these little dots? Those are sprout eyes—the shoots will grow from here. Got it?”

“After cutting, coat the cut surface with wood ash, like this, and set it aside.”

“When all the pieces are coated, lay them under the eaves in layers—two or three layers is fine. Sprinkle some ash between layers. At night, cover them with straw. In the morning, remove the straw so they can get sunlight. Once they sprout and the shoots turn thick and green, they’re ready to plant.”

“Before planting, loosen and dry the soil, then ridge it up.” Jiang Ji looked around the group. “That’s basically it. If anyone forgets, come ask me. I’ll have the village chief call everyone again at each next step so you can see. Today’s weather’s perfect—start drying your seed potatoes right away. Let’s all do it together.”

The villagers asked a few questions, got their answers, and went home to start laying out their potatoes.

By then it was noon. Zhao Ru went to prepare lunch while Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan spread their own potatoes out in a sunny patch of yard, carefully laying them one by one.

When they were done, both washed their hands. Jiang Ji said, “Let me take a look at your wound—it should be about time to remove the stitches.”

“Alright.”

“Sit down, I’ll bring the small table.”

As Jiang Yan went back into the room, Jiang Ji quickly turned to his livestream.

“Hey folks, any surgeons online? Help me check whether Jiang Yan’s wound looks ready for stitch removal.”

Jiang Yan’s injuries had been deep. Jiang Ji had checked before—they were healing well, though slower in the cold and under primitive conditions. Still, it had been eleven days now.

【Perfect timing—it’s lunchtime, I’ll go call my uncle!】
【My high school classmate’s a surgeon, I’ll get him!】

“Thanks, everyone. Once the doctor’s here, please keep quiet so I don’t miss any of his instructions.”

Jiang Ji carried the small table inside. Jiang Yan was already seated by the window where the light was good, his outer robe removed, dressed only in his inner clothes.

Jiang Ji set the table down and brought over the medical kit. He gestured with his chin. “Take it off.”

Jiang Yan slipped off his inner shirt. Jiang Ji rubbed disinfectant between his palms, sanitizing his hands before removing the bandages.

Jiang Yan had four or five deep wounds across his body. The cuts had healed, leaving narrow scars where blades had once struck. The skin around them was faintly yellow-stained from the medicine and disinfectant.

Jiang Ji examined each wound carefully. He glanced at the livestream but didn’t dare ask directly. “They’ve healed pretty well,” he said aloud.

【Recovery looks good. You can remove the stitches.】
【Open the suture removal kit. Take out the scissors, tweezers, and gauze, place them on the wrapper. Keep only the cotton balls inside the box. Pour some iodine on a cotton ball, disinfect the wound and surrounding area twice. Use tweezers to lift the knot slightly, snip one side of the thread with scissors, then pull the stitch out with tweezers. After removing all the stitches, disinfect again with iodine and rebandage.】
【Don’t let the wound get wet afterward. If it turns red or swollen, apply ointment. If not, you can bathe after three to five days.】

Jiang Ji checked the commenter’s name—it was the same doctor who had once taught him suturing.

“Removing stitches stings a bit. Bear with it,” Jiang Ji warned.

Jiang Yan nodded. “It’s fine.”

Jiang Ji knew exactly how much pain he could take. In all these days of healing, he hadn’t heard Jiang Yan complain once—at most, he’d frown slightly.

Jiang Ji pulled on gloves, opened the suture removal kit, disinfected his hands again, and followed the doctor’s step-by-step instructions. He laid out the tools neatly, disinfected the wound with iodine, and, holding tweezers in his left hand and scissors in his right, cut each stitch and pulled it free one by one. Then he disinfected again, placed clean gauze, and wrapped the wound.

None of the wounds were red or inflamed—only the one on his arm was slightly irritated, probably because Jiang Yan used that arm frequently. Jiang Ji applied some ointment and bandaged it carefully.

The whole process took nearly half an hour.

Removing his gloves, Jiang Ji cleaned up and said while packing away the tools, “Don’t let the wounds get wet these next few days. Your arm’s still a little inflamed, so don’t strain it. Give it three to five days. Keep taking the medicine for now.”

“Alright. Thank you.” Jiang Yan dressed himself layer by layer.

Jiang Ji disinfected the tweezers, scissors, and tray with a cloth. Later, he’d boil them to sterilize so they could be reused.

When they came out, Zhao Ru immediately asked, “How’s Jiang Yan’s wound? All healed?”

“Yeah, it’s doing well. Stitches are out—he’ll be moving normally in a few days,” Jiang Ji replied.

“That’s good, that’s good.” Zhao Ru let out a relieved sigh.

After lunch, they rested for a bit. Then Jiang Ji went to flip the drying potatoes. Outside, someone knocked on the gate.

“Excuse me, is this Jiang Ji’s house?”

Jiang Ji looked up—it was Liu Dalang from the livestock yard, the man who hauled manure for him.

“Brother Liu! Yeah, over here,” Jiang Ji called, walking to the gate. “You brought it?”

“Yep, three wagonloads in total. Like you said—pig and cow manure in one, horse and sheep manure in another, separated by boards.”

Behind Liu Dalang stood a woman and a young man—his wife and son, most likely.

“Good.” Jiang Ji went to check. Each large barrel was full. “Come with me—I’ll need your help getting it to the fields. From now on, you can dump it directly over there.”

He called into the house, “Mother, I’m heading to the fields to pile compost!”

“Alright, go on, I’ll be there in a bit!”

Jiang Yan came out and asked, “Need help?”

“No, you finish writing out the planting methods—we’ll need them soon. Once you’re done with potatoes, write cotton next, then corn and rice.”

Jiang Yan nodded. “Got it.”

Jiang Ji picked up a shovel, a hay rake, a basket, and a chopping knife, plus a bucket for irrigation, then led Liu Dalang’s family to the fields. Together, they unloaded the manure barrels, stacking pig, cow, horse, and sheep waste separately near the compost pit.

After paying them, the group left with their carts, and Jiang Ji headed into the woods to collect fallen leaves and dry grass.

Zhao Ru soon came, carrying a hoe and a hatchet.

“Mother, you hang the leaves—I’ll chop this batch.”

Every day, Wu Er delivered a load of manure, and the cleaners at the market sent spoiled vegetable leaves, chicken manure, duck manure, and other waste. After several days, a large pile had formed beside the compost pit.

Zhao Ru went deeper into the woods to gather leaves while Jiang Ji put on the medical gloves he’d used earlier for the suture removal—washed and disinfected, they were perfect for this job.

He chopped the vegetable scraps into short pieces two to three inches long, then cut the leaves and dry grass the same way—ready for composting.

Once the materials were prepared, Zhao Ru took over chopping while Jiang Ji dug out a layer of humus from the forest floor.

Then he dug several crisscrossed trenches on the ground for airflow, spread a layer of leaves and grass, sprinkled a thin layer of humus, added the chopped vegetable waste, covered it with a bit of soil, poured over a layer of manure, then another of forest humus, and finally doused it all with water.

The compost heap was complete—it would now slowly ferment. In twenty days, he’d turn it over once, then let it ferment for another month or so before using it.

By the time he made two piles, the afternoon had slipped away.

Their field wasn’t far from the village, so several villagers passing by spotted Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru working hard and came closer, curious.

“Jiang Ji, what’re you doing over there?”

“Composting.”

Seeing the large heap he’d built, someone asked, “You’re using tree leaves? And grass? And rotten veggies… plus manure?”

“Yes,” Jiang Ji said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “We don’t have enough manure at home, so we can only make some of our own. Uncle, you should pile some too—it makes great fertilizer.”

Someone pointed at the pit nearby. “Isn’t that manure over there?”

“That’s the batch I bought from town,” Jiang Ji explained. “The pig and cow dung too—I bought those as well.”

“What? You bought manure?”

“Sure did.”

“How much did that cost?”

“About twenty-something coins per cart.”

“So expensive!”

Jiang Ji sighed. “Can’t help it. We have a lot of land, and no fertilizer means no crops. But if your family has a latrine and raises pigs or chickens, you should have enough on your own without buying any.”

The onlookers exhaled in relief. “Good thing! I’d feel sick spending money on manure. Imagine having to buy the stuff.”

Jiang Ji added, “Still, if you’ve got spare money, buy a little. It makes the soil richer.”

The crowd fell silent—no one there had that kind of spare money.

“Uncle, you should also start a compost pile. Just manure alone isn’t enough. Use my method—it’ll make more fertilizer. Dig some channels for air flow, lay leaves and grass at the bottom…” He went through the whole composting process again. “After two months, it’ll be ready. Just in time to use as topdressing for the fields.”

“Alright, I’ll start piling some tomorrow.”

“We’ve got pig dung at home—I’ll make a pile too.”

And so, by the next day, everyone who had heard about it was out in the hills gathering fallen leaves.

Others found it odd—until they asked and heard it was Jiang Ji’s idea to make compost. Word spread fast. Soon, after the village had just finished building new outhouses, a new wave started—now every household was in the mountains collecting leaves and grass for compost.

In the following days, aside from composting, Jiang Ji focused on thinking about cotton.

He copied down all the system tasks related to it and studied them carefully.

Basic weaving technology required spreading rice seeds across ten thousand mu; intermediate level needed fifty thousand mu; and advanced level, one hundred thousand mu.

That rice-seed promotion task was relatively easy.

Next came the blueprints for improved machines—the cotton gin, the spinning machine, and the loom. He’d need to obtain the blueprints first, then build the machines himself.

Each machine blueprint required expanding cotton cultivation—one thousand mu, ten thousand mu, and fifty thousand mu respectively.

The weather would soon warm enough for cotton planting, so he had to hurry.

“Mother,” he asked one day, “how much does cotton sell for at the market now?”

Zhao Ru thought about it. They hadn’t bought cotton in a long while. “About three hundred coins a jin, I think.”

Jiang Ji’s eyes widened. “That expensive?”

“Cotton’s scarce now, of course it’s expensive,” Zhao Ru sighed. “We used to plant a whole mu of it and barely got a little yield.”

Jiang Ji thought to himself—that was because no one had mastered proper cultivation yet, and the seeds were poor.

At that price, pushing for fifty thousand mu of cotton shouldn’t be too hard.

Still, he knew most farmers would focus on filling their bellies first.

After pondering it for two days, he shared his thoughts with his audience on the way to town to pick up the seal and scroll.

“What do you all think? Does it sound doable?”

【Sure, but you need to explain clearly how much profit they’ll make.】
【Or you could do this—sign contracts for cotton planting, and give discounted rice seeds. Like, one coin off per mu—two mu, two coins off.】
【Just show them the math. Compare how much one mu of sweet potatoes earns versus one mu of cotton. They’ll see it themselves.】
【Sweet potatoes are new and will fetch a good price too. Compare it to vegetable prices.】
【I think getting everyone to plant cotton only isn’t realistic, but if each household grows one or two mu, that still adds up. Little by little works too.】
【Large-scale farming might not be realistic yet, at least not in the first year. People are still focused on food. Wait till they see cotton’s profits next year—then you can scale up.】
【If you want large-scale, talk to the landlords—they’ve got the land.】
【Careful though. Dealing with landlords is risky. If they back out or decide to sell to someone else, there’s little you can do. Even if you get compensation, they might just undercut you.】
【Safer to deal with the small farmers. They’re more honest.】
【Or just work with both—it’s not mutually exclusive.】

Then came a golden rain of reward notifications:

—— Xiao Xuehai sent Rice Seed x100

【Xiao Xuehai: Build a good relationship with the magistrate. If you sign contracts with landlords, have the magistrate appear as a witness—it’ll show them you’ve got strong backing.

Those landlords need your new seeds too. When negotiating, you can offer small concessions—not too much. People respect confidence; don’t let them think you’re easy to push around just because you’re a villager. You’re negotiating cooperation, not begging.

If you’re planning to open a textile workshop in the county, you should start building connections now. Good relations with those landlords will help later and prevent them from causing you trouble down the line.】

Jiang Ji immediately spotted the golden comment floating across the screen—his eyes lit up. Xiao Xuehai was a successful businessman; the perfect mentor right here in his chat.

He said, “Thanks for all the advice—and thank you, President Xiao. I wanted to ask: what do you think about linking the cotton contracts with seed discounts, like cheaper rice, sweet potato, or corn seeds?”

【Xiao Xuehai: That’s feasible—but you’ll need to calculate your textile workshop’s future profit margins. How much will your net earnings be? If you discount too heavily, will you take a loss? Of course, it’s normal to lose a bit in the first year, but remember—once you set the price, it’s hard to raise it later. So don’t sell the seeds at a loss.】

Jiang Ji nodded. “I understand. I’ll go back and calculate it carefully.”

Since President Xiao was still around, Jiang Ji took the opportunity to ask him a whole bunch of questions. Before transmigrating, he’d only been a college sophomore—there was a lot he didn’t know. Having a successful entrepreneur right there, he seized the chance to learn everything he could.

President Xiao Xuehai was generous and patient. He shared his own business experiences, analyzed the pros and cons of different approaches, and pointed out many things Jiang Ji hadn’t considered. Hearing it all made everything suddenly clear.

Jiang Ji was thrilled, listening intently. President Xiao covered so many topics that he couldn’t remember them all, so he immediately exchanged for a notebook and pen and began taking notes right there on the road.

During their “conversation,” the livestream chat went quiet—most viewers were listening seriously. After all, it wasn’t every day they got to hear a business magnate share his wisdom.

【We’re so lucky today—free masterclass from President Xiao!】
【He really has that sharp insight—straight to the point every time.】
【Feels like sitting in one of my business case lectures.】
【Worth every minute.】
【It’s like I’m back in class.】
【Our host’s such a good student.】

They walked and talked, stopping occasionally for Jiang Ji to jot something down. Normally the walk to town took an hour, but this time it took him two.

“A single conversation with a wise man is worth ten years of study. President Xiao, thank you.”

When he arrived at the calligraphy and painting shop, Jiang Ji picked up the “Sea Embraces a Hundred Rivers” scroll for President Xiao. He unrolled it carefully—everything looked perfect.

Then he tried out Jiang Yan’s new seal by pressing it into the ink paste. The imprint was clean and well-cut. Satisfied, he paid the remaining balance.

The shopkeeper asked, “So, did you ask him? Did he agree to sell?”

Jiang Ji shook his head. “He said he doesn’t sell his calligraphy.”

The shopkeeper sighed regretfully. “Ah, I see. Did you tell him I’m willing to pay a high price?”

“He said he’s not short on money.”

“Understood,” said the shopkeeper, still disappointed.

Jiang Ji smiled. “By the way, you sell ink paste here, right?”

“Yes, on the back shelf. I can show you—”

“No need, I’ll find it myself.”

Jiang Ji went to the shelf, picked a high-quality ink paste, and then quietly asked, “President Xiao, Jiang Yan’s seal is ready—would you like me to stamp it on your scroll for you?”

—— Xiao Xuehai sent Rice Seed x100.
—— Xiao Xuehai sent Rice Seed x100.

【Xiao Xuehai: Please do. Thank you.】

“Alright. It’s fitting—this will be Jiang Yan’s first official seal impression. I’ll ask him when I get home before I stamp it, but I’m sure he won’t mind. Give me about an hour.”

【Xiao Xuehai: Alright.】

As Jiang Ji went to pay, he noticed a stand of scroll tubes beside the counter. He looked through them one by one and asked softly, “President Xiao, there are scroll cases here for storing paintings and calligraphy. Which one do you like? I’ll gift it to you as thanks for your help.”

—— Xiao Xuehai sent Rice Seed x100.
—— Xiao Xuehai sent Rice Seed x100.

【Xiao Xuehai: The light blue one.】

Jiang Ji picked out the pale blue tube with cloud patterns. “This one?”

【Xiao Xuehai: Yes.】

“Alright.”

He paid for the ink paste and scroll tube, then rolled up the calligraphy and placed it neatly inside.

【Ahhh, even a scroll tube! It looks amazing!】
【So vintage—it really feels ancient.】
【That scroll case alone is a collectible!】
【The host is so thoughtful.】
【Can it be transmitted too?】
【Yeah, does the scroll tube count as a separate item?】

Jiang Ji paused, ducking into a quiet corner before whispering, “2977, the scroll tube can be transmitted too, right? It’s part of the artwork set—it’s packaging, an essential accessory. That should count, shouldn’t it?”

2977: 【Yes, it counts.】

Jiang Ji let out a relieved breath and told the viewers, “All good! 2977 says it’s allowed.”

【Phew, great!】
【Ahhh, why didn’t mine come with a scroll tube?】

It was the guy who had won the grand prize earlier.

Jiang Ji chuckled. “Back then, I didn’t even have any scroll tubes at home. And this one’s a special thank-you gift for President Xiao.”

【…I could teach you programming as thanks.】

Jiang Ji was speechless. “Brother, even if I learned programming—what would I run it on here?”

【…】
【Hahahahaha, that’s gold.】
【Yeah, there aren’t even computers or phones—what’s he gonna program on?】

After buying some xuan paper next door, Jiang Ji also stopped by a cotton shop to confirm prices—cotton was three hundred twenty coins per jin. He checked prices for cotton thread and cloth too, jotting everything in his notebook before heading home.

On the way back, he continued asking President Xiao for advice.

Xiao Xuehai seemed to be waiting in the livestream for the finished calligraphy. He was patient and answered every question. Jiang Ji learned a great deal.

When he got home, Jiang Ji handed Jiang Yan the seal. “Jiang Yan, your seal’s finished. Look—it came out really nice.”

He set down the ink paste. Jiang Yan tested the seal on paper. “Hmm. Not bad.”

Jiang Ji unrolled Sea Embraces a Hundred Rivers and asked, “Can you stamp it here?”

Jiang Yan nodded and pressed the red seal just below his name.

With that bright red mark, the work was finally complete.

“Looks great. Let’s stamp ours too.”

Jiang Ji climbed onto the table, took down Wealth and Prosperity Arrives, and had Jiang Yan add his seal to that one as well. Once the ink dried, he hung it back up.

“Oh, and I got you some large sheets of xuan paper—you can use them for writing big characters or painting. Whatever you like.” Jiang Ji took out the bundle and placed it on the table.

Jiang Yan glanced at it. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me.”

Jiang Ji admired the calligraphy for a moment, then carefully rolled up Sea Embraces a Hundred Rivers and placed it inside the scroll tube before returning to his room.

“President Xiao, all set—I’m about to transmit the scroll tube to you.”

【Xiao Xuehai: Ready.】

Jiang Ji set the scroll tube on the bed, watched as it was scanned into the system, then clicked Send Reward. In the next second, the tube vanished.

Moments later—

—— Xiao Xuehai sent Rice Seed x100.
—— Xiao Xuehai sent Rice Seed x100.
……
【Xiao Xuehai: Received, thank you!】

The businessman was clearly delighted; he immediately tipped another million rice seeds in total.

As golden effects shimmered across the screen, Jiang Ji’s lips curved upward. So generous! He’d just made another two hundred thousand today.

Feeling cheerful, he left the room with his notebook and pen, sat down across from Jiang Yan, and began reviewing the notes he had taken. After reading through them once, he started doing calculations.

He spent the entire afternoon working through the numbers, and with help from his online viewers, finally sorted everything out—he even drafted a preliminary plan.

The next day, Jiang Ji sought out the village chief and asked him to visit a few nearby villages together to contact their chiefs.

It was time for him to start promoting cotton planting on his own.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Jiang Yan looked at Jiang Ji clinging to him, completely confused. “What does my calligraphy have to do with rice seed gifts?”

Jiang Ji blinked innocently. “I just remembered—my seed supplier said before that he really loves calligraphy and painting. He’ll definitely like your writing! Let’s give him a piece of your calligraphy so he’ll send us more seeds.”

Jiang Yan: … His skill at making things up with a straight face was getting disturbingly natural.

Jiang Ji patted him hard on the back and dragged him toward the table. “Don’t worry about the details, just write it for me. Come on, I’ll grind the ink for you.”

He even poured clean water and started grinding the ink himself.

Jiang Yan sighed helplessly, rolled up his sleeves, spread the paper flat, and weighed it down with an inkstone. “What should I write this time?”

Jiang Ji had already decided. “Hai Na Bai Chuan—‘The sea embraces a hundred rivers!’”

The boss would definitely like that.

Jiang Yan fetched the tung-oil lamp from the room, brightening the space considerably.

As Jiang Ji ground the ink, he said, “Write this one however you like—something bold and full of momentum. Make it horizontal; it’ll look better hanging that way.”

“Alright.”

Once the ink was ready, Jiang Yan lifted the brush. The tip had a few loose hairs; he plucked one away, dipped the brush into the ink, and began.

“This brush isn’t very good, huh?” Jiang Ji noticed and asked.

“It tends to split a little, but it’ll do,” Jiang Yan replied.

After a brief pause to think, his wrist moved fluidly—his strokes strong, flowing, and unbroken.

“Wow!” Jiang Ji couldn’t hold back his admiration. He gave Jiang Yan a big thumbs-up. “Vigorous, powerful, majestic—absolutely beautiful!”

At that, a faint smile curved Jiang Yan’s lips.

“Quick, sign your name!” Jiang Ji urged.

Jiang Yan added the date and his signature. Jiang Ji nodded repeatedly, completely satisfied.

“Ah, it’s so good, I almost don’t want to give it away.”

【Hahaha, host, don’t you dare—】
【President Xiao’s waiting, don’t you back out now】
【He’s probably staring at the screen, scared to remind you in case you change your mind】

— Xiao Xuehai sent 100 Rice Seeds.
— Xiao Xuehai sent 100 Rice Seeds.
— Xiao Xuehai sent 100 Rice Seeds.

…

Jiang Ji admired the piece for a while longer, tracing his fingers over the bold characters as if studying how the strokes were made.

When he finally looked back at the livestream, his eyes were nearly dazzled by another flood of golden rice-seed effects.

He squinted at the chat and finally realized what everyone was saying. Even President Xiao seemed a little anxious by now.

Stepping into the courtyard, Jiang Ji lowered his voice and said, “Don’t worry, I’m not going back on my word. I said it’s for President Xiao, and it’ll go to President Xiao.”

“Do you guys understand what these four characters mean? Hai Na Bai Chuan—‘The sea embraces all rivers, therefore it becomes vast; a man with tolerance achieves greatness.’ It’s a famous saying in our country. I wonder if 2977’s translation is accurate.”

【We know, we know】
【Hai Na Bai Chuan!】
【We kinda get it. The system probably translates it for us anyway, should be close enough.】

“As long as you understand. Actually, it’s part of a longer phrase with sixteen characters, but these four are the most well-known. They’re often hung in studies or offices—it fits President Xiao perfectly, I think. Wonder if he likes it?”

— Xiao Xuehai sent 100 Rice Seeds.
— Xiao Xuehai sent 100 Rice Seeds.
— Xiao Xuehai sent 100 Rice Seeds.

【Xiao Xuehai: I like it very much. Thank you.】

Jiang Ji grinned. “By the way, President Xiao, would you like me to have it mounted for you, or will you handle it yourself?”

“Here, we usually mount it as a horizontal scroll. You can check one of my earlier streams—about two or three days ago—where I had one of Jiang Yan’s works mounted. The shop in town makes those elegant scrolls, though they’re a bit fragile and don’t keep as long. If I handle it here, it’ll take about three days before it’s ready to send.”

— Xiao Xuehai sent 100 Rice Seeds.
— Xiao Xuehai sent 100 Rice Seeds.
— Xiao Xuehai sent 100 Rice Seeds.

【Xiao Xuehai: Please have it mounted for me. Thank you.】

He even paid the mounting fee. Jiang Ji’s eyes curved into happy crescents. “Perfect! I’ll take it to town tomorrow.”

At the kitchen doorway, Jiang Yan was washing his brush. From time to time, he looked out into the courtyard—Jiang Ji was muttering to himself again, as if talking to invisible people. It was hard not to think there was something strange about him.

Jiang Yan sighed softly. Was the boy growing more and more careless around him? Trusting someone this easily… wasn’t always a good thing.

Meanwhile, in the courtyard, Jiang Ji was in high spirits, chatting and laughing with his viewers, reviewing the day’s achievements.

In the first week after he’d started streaming, the audience had been small, and he’d earned almost no points at all.

Only within the past week had Jiang Ji’s viewer count really taken off—millions tuning in daily. The system awarded one point per hundred unique views, so he was now earning tens of thousands of points a day.

But today was something else entirely. Between the trending searches, the homepage recommendation, and the irresistible lure of the lottery feature, his viewership had stayed in the tens of millions.

During the courthouse stream that morning, the peak had hit over twenty million; it dipped afterward, but the moment he announced a prize draw that night, a flood of people came pouring back in.

At its height, the audience had again surpassed twenty million.

The system counted total visits, not simultaneous viewers—each entry, even a repeat, counted once. By the end of the day, the total added up to nearly six hundred thousand points.

The system’s points followed their own mysterious internal exchange logic. Jiang Ji didn’t know exactly how much one point was worth in his previous life’s currency, but there was a simple reference: one point could be exchanged for one jin of rice.

Sweet potatoes and potatoes could both be used directly as seed tubers, so their price matched that of food in the system’s store—relatively cheap.

But because the amount of seed tubers needed per acre was massive, it had cost him forty to fifty thousand points just to exchange enough for the whole village.

The other crop seeds in the system—high-quality cotton, rice, and wheat—were much more expensive.

Rice was especially costly and required in large quantities: fifteen points for a single jin of premium hybrid rice seed.

If he wanted to promote rice cultivation widely, he would need a mountain of points.

Today, however, Xiao Xuehai’s enormous donation—over twenty-two million yuan’s worth of rice-seed props—had solved a huge part of that problem.

The rice-seed prop was the most expensive gift in the livestream: each one cost the viewer a thousand yuan and yielded a hundred jin of real rice seed when redeemed. That made it far cheaper than buying directly through the system’s store.

The small gifts—the one-yuan, five-yuan, ten-yuan kinds—were more common, but the food obtained through them matched the store’s prices, no advantage there.

Only this thousand-yuan prop offered such a generous exchange.

Jiang Ji wondered: maybe the system figured that big spenders were rare, so it rewarded such donations with extra value?

He didn’t really understand the designer’s logic—but he wasn’t about to complain. This windfall had solved a major seed shortage.

More importantly, it gave him a new idea.

This kind of donation prop was way too cost-effective. If other wealthy collectors showed up wanting antiques, calligraphy, or paintings from his world, he could just tell them to use this one-thousand-yuan gift. So much simpler!

He opened the task panel again to see if there were more missions like the one with Xiao Xuehai.

When he found Special Task 188, it was now greyed out—marked Completed. Only the “Send Reward” button was still lit, showing he hadn’t delivered the prize yet.

The grey text meant it was a one-time task—once completed, it vanished.

Jiang Ji: …

He scrolled further down and finally found a similar one—but this time, the condition was a single-day donation of fifty million.

Jiang Ji: …

So the system knew how to raise the stakes.

He decided not to tell his audience about this yet and looked through the rest of the task list.

There were two categories: regular tasks and special tasks.

The regular ones mostly involved reaching certain viewer counts—either daily or cumulative—and Jiang Ji had already completed quite a few.

After that came the agricultural promotion tasks: spreading crops like rice, corn, and sweet potatoes to a set number of households—at least a thousand each.

The special tasks, though… those were absurd.

There were ones he hadn’t even noticed before, like “Reveal the system’s existence to your family.” And others like “Explain menstruation to your relatives” or “Teach that the planet is round.”

Apparently, the system wanted him to be a walking encyclopedia.

And some were downright impossible—“Cook a meal personally for the Emperor,” “Go fishing with the Emperor.”

Jiang Ji: …

“I don’t even know who the Emperor is, and you want me to cook for him? Go fishing with him?”

He was dumbfounded. “2977, don’t you think this is getting ridiculous?”

【What happened? What’s ridiculous? Tell us!】
【Yeah, come on, let us laugh too!】

Jiang Ji sighed. “Do you guys know what kind of special missions this system gives me? I just saw one that says I have to cook for the Emperor—and go fishing with him!”

【Hahahaha! Well, dream big, you never know!】
【As expected from a system—delusional perfection.】
【That’s like one of us cooking for the president and then inviting him fishing! Hahaha!】

“No, listen,” Jiang Ji said. “For you, maybe that’s doable. But this is a feudal empire! Ordinary people never even see the Emperor, not once in their life! We don’t even know what he looks like! At least you know what your leaders look like, right?”

【Fair point. That’s… yeah, pretty much impossible.】
【That’s why it’s called a special task—high difficulty!】

“Sigh… this system’s a total scam.” Jiang Ji sighed and kept scrolling.

The task rewards matched the difficulty. Early ones unlocked new donation props—he could open up to ten “slots” for them—and then there were rewards like food and skill books.

Later rewards focused on new skills and blueprints, each skill ranked beginner, intermediate, or advanced.

He’d even seen skills like fishing, cooking, basket weaving, textile work—pretty much anything imaginable.

Apparently, the system thought of everything.

It was even considerate enough to include cooking skills—probably to prepare him for that ridiculous “cook for the Emperor” mission someday.

Then Jiang Ji discovered that the system actually came with an entire chain of linked missions and rewards.

For example, completing one task might reward him with a loom blueprint, which would then unlock a new mission—build a loom. Once the loom was made, the next mission would be to promote loom use.

And of course, if he wanted to promote textile production, he’d need raw materials—cotton, hemp, wool, and silk.

That meant he’d have to start by planting cotton and hemp, and raising silkworms and sheep before spreading those industries further.

Jiang Ji: …

How considerate. The system had basically mapped out his entire path to wealth.

In short—as long as he completed the tasks, the skills would come.

After washing up and lying down, Jiang Ji couldn’t fall asleep right away. Having read through all those missions and rewards, his mind was racing with ideas.

“Jiang Yan, are you asleep?”

Jiang Yan opened his eyes, surprised. “You can’t sleep?”

For someone who normally fell asleep within three breaths, lying awake for nearly fifteen minutes was unusual.

“Mm. I’m thinking about something.”

“What are you thinking about?”

Jiang Ji turned over to face him and whispered, “What if we sign contracts with the farmers—get them to plant only cotton on their land? Do you think that would work?”

“Why the sudden idea? Are you planning to buy all their harvests yourself? What would you even do with that much cotton?”

“I was thinking…” Jiang Ji said, “maybe start a textile workshop?”

“A textile workshop?”

“Yeah—a big one. We grow the cotton, spin the thread, weave the fabric—all in one chain. And then open a cloth shop to sell the finished bolts.”

Jiang Yan thought for a moment and asked, “I don’t know much about weaving… do you?”

“No,” Jiang Ji admitted, but quickly added, “but I can learn.”

Jiang Yan: …

In the dim light, Jiang Ji’s silhouette shifted as he spoke. “Once we spread the rice seeds to ten thousand households, I’ll have learned it.”

Jiang Yan frowned slightly. “What does rice seed promotion have to do with weaving?”

“Oh, uh, I mean—my mother knows how to weave. We used to have a loom at home before it got sold. Once I learn a bit from her, I can modify the spinning and weaving machines myself. That’ll work.”

Jiang Yan thought it over seriously. “It sounds possible when you put it that way. But convincing people to plant only cotton won’t be easy. They’ll want to fill their bellies first. Sweet potatoes and potatoes are safe crops—they can eat what they grow. If they plant cotton and you stop buying it later, they’ll have to find their own buyers. Cotton may sell well, but finding good buyers quickly isn’t easy. If prices fall, it’s the farmers who’ll suffer. To get them to follow you, you’ll need to give them guarantees.”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Right, that’s why we’ll sign purchase contracts. Fix the price beforehand. I’ll sell them high-yield cotton seeds, and when I buy back their cotton, they won’t have to worry about it not selling.”

“You can try,” Jiang Yan said. “But it’ll work best if they already trust you.”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. “What if the magistrate acts as guarantor?”

Jiang Yan turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “The magistrate? You want an official to vouch for you? Are you dreaming?”

“How is that a dream?” Jiang Ji protested. “I think he’s a good man—cares about the people. Why wouldn’t he support something like this?”

“And how do you plan to convince him to be your guarantor?”

Jiang Ji said, “Public–private cooperation. Isn’t that a normal arrangement?”

Jiang Yan: …

Seeing his silence, Jiang Ji quickly explained, “No, not collusion. Cooperation. Don’t get it twisted.”

“…Then how exactly would that cooperation work?” Jiang Yan asked, genuinely curious.

Jiang Ji drew on memories from his previous life—what little he’d absorbed from his father’s news reports and business talk—and began explaining.

“Simply put, the government and merchants work together to grow the economy. The government supports it with policies, and merchants run the businesses—well, workshops—creating jobs for ordinary people. The people earn wages, merchants make profits and pay taxes, and the government benefits from those taxes. If the local government has money, the imperial court has money too.”

He paused, then went on, “Look, aside from maintaining order, the government’s main duty is to improve the people’s livelihood, right?”

Jiang Yan nodded. “That’s right.”

“So, say I promote cotton planting. Farmers grow cotton and sell it to me—they earn money. I take the cotton and run a textile workshop—hire workers who also earn money. Then I sell the fabric myself or to others—either way, I earn money. And when I make money, I pay taxes to the government, and they earn money too.

“If it becomes a stable cycle, my workshop will keep expanding, need more cotton, hire more workers. Our county could actually feed and clothe more people because of it, right?

“And later, if I develop new kinds of fabrics or patterns, sales won’t be a problem. If I open my own cloth shop and build a name, merchants from other counties and provinces will come to buy. That’ll bring more business to local inns, taverns, and restaurants, supporting even more people.”

He looked over at Jiang Yan and asked, “If you were the magistrate, would you support me?”

Jiang Yan thought deeply for a long while before answering, “If it were me—I would. But the magistrate… not necessarily.”

Jiang Ji scratched his face. “Then I’ll just try. I’ll work it out myself first, and if it doesn’t go well, I’ll talk to him directly. For now, I’m just brainstorming. I’ll think it through more carefully later.”

“Alright.”

Jiang Ji’s mind drifted back to his past life—to before his mother’s passing. His father used to come home every day in time for dinner, and as a kid, he’d often sit with him watching the evening news, listening to him talk about business. He’d learned a thing or two back then.

“Honestly,” he said softly, “focusing on agriculture first is right—farming is the foundation. With crop yields this low, the court’s policy of prioritizing farmers and restricting merchants makes sense for now. But once grain production improves, to truly develop the economy, they’ll have to promote commerce.

“In this era, the hierarchy is scholars, farmers, artisans, then merchants—traders rank the lowest. But ironically, it’s commerce that keeps the economy alive and improves people’s lives. The imperial court should really value merchants more.”

Jiang Yan grew thoughtful at those words.

“You saying you’d support me actually makes me happy,” Jiang Ji murmured with a yawn. “At least someone thinks it’s doable. Alright, it’s late—sleep well. Good night.”

He rolled over, lay flat, and within moments, drifted off to sleep.

Jiang Yan turned his head to look at him. The night was deep, the room dim, only the faint outline of Jiang Ji’s face visible.

He couldn’t help replaying the conversation in his mind. He hadn’t expected Jiang Ji to think so far ahead, or to have such an insightful understanding of agriculture and commerce. The boy’s grasp of economic logic was far deeper than he’d imagined.

Thinking about Jiang Ji’s idea—growing cotton, spinning thread, weaving cloth, and opening a cloth shop all in one seamless chain, creating jobs for the villagers along the way—Jiang Yan found himself quietly excited too.

“Farming as the foundation, cooperation between officials and merchants, valuing the role of commerce…” He turned those phrases over in his head until he too finally fell asleep.

…

The next morning, Jiang Ji got up early as usual to fetch water.

While waiting in line, someone grinned and called out to him, “Hey, Jiang Ji, my boy Xiaoshan came home yesterday saying little Jiang Nan told him your family’s sweet potatoes and potatoes came from an immortal! Hahaha…”

Jiang Ji paused, then burst out laughing too. “Haha, he’s just joking! The day we got that delivery, Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei were already asleep and didn’t see it. The next morning they saw the whole hall full of sweet potatoes and asked me where they came from. I teased them and said an immortal gave them to us—never thought they’d actually believe it! Ah, that’s kids for you. If there really were an immortal, I’d be asking for a mountain of gold, not sweet potatoes and tubers, don’t you think, Uncle?”

The people around laughed heartily.

“Exactly! Forget gold and silver, even a copper mountain would be enough for me to eat and drink for life.”

“If it were me, I wouldn’t even need a mountain—just a few gold ingots would make me laugh in my sleep.”

The first man who’d spoken chuckled. “Right? If you could ask an immortal for anything, who’d ask for potatoes? You’d still have to plant them yourself!”

“Hahaha, true enough. Kids will believe anything.”

Jiang Ji joined their laughter, then smoothly shifted the topic. “By the way, uncles, I’m heading to town this morning. When I’m back, I’ll teach everyone how to sprout the potato seedlings, alright? Make sure someone’s at home to listen for the village chief’s notice.”

“Got it. We’ll either be home or out in the fields—just shout and we’ll hear.”

“Good. Remember to call out a few times.”

…

After breakfast, Jiang Ji took the calligraphy Jiang Yan had written the night before and set off for town. Zhao Ru and Aunt Xiufang came along, bringing the children’s clothes they’d sewn these past few days to sell at the tailor’s shop.

Before leaving, Jiang Ji told Jiang Yan, “If Wu Er comes by to deliver fertilizer, help me check it over and settle the bill for him,” then started down the road.

When they arrived in town, the three split up. Jiang Ji headed straight for the book-and-art shop.

There weren’t many such shops in town; most sold both books and paintings and also took on mounting or seal-carving work.

When Jiang Ji arrived, the shopkeeper brought out the piece he’d sent earlier for mounting—it was ready, a horizontal scroll.

Jiang Ji unrolled it and smiled. “Wealth flows in from all directions.” Mounted, the calligraphy looked even more elegant and full of life.

“Shopkeeper, I have another piece I’d like you to mount the same way.” Jiang Ji handed over the rolled-up Hai Na Bai Chuan.

The shopkeeper unrolled it and couldn’t help exclaiming, “What fine calligraphy!”

“Right? I think so too,” Jiang Ji said cheerfully.

After admiring it for a while, the shopkeeper asked, “Customer, did you write this yourself?”

“No.”

“Was it written by the same person who wrote the last one?”

“Yes.”

The shopkeeper’s expression lit up. “May I ask who this calligrapher is?”

Jiang Ji raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Well,” the man stroked his beard, speaking with genuine admiration, “I’ve been running this shop for nearly thirty years, and this is the finest handwriting I’ve ever seen. I’d love to commission a piece—could you perhaps introduce me to the writer?”

Jiang Ji blinked. “I’ll ask him when I get back and let you know in a few days, how’s that?”

“Excellent, excellent! If he agrees, the price is negotiable.”

“Alright, I’ll ask for you.” Jiang Ji then pulled a folded paper from his sleeve. “By the way, you can carve seals here, right?”

“Certainly, sir. You want one made?”

“Yes. Please follow this design.”

The shopkeeper looked at the sketch—Jiang Ji’s own design. “Jiang Yan? Is this the same person who wrote the calligraphy?”

“That’s right.”

“Understood. What material would you like—wood or jade?”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. “How much for jade?”

The shopkeeper opened a box of blank jade seal blocks, showing a range of quality. “This one’s two taels of silver, this one five, this one ten, and this one thirty.”

Even the thirty-tael piece wasn’t particularly fine. Jiang Ji shook his head. “Show me the wooden ones.”

The shopkeeper produced another box. “These plain wooden ones are five hundred coins. This one’s nanmu—one tael three qian. This one’s huanghuali—two taels. This purple sandalwood block here—five taels. Best quality.”

Jiang Ji picked up the small piece of sandalwood, examined it, and took a light sniff—its subtle fragrance confirmed it was genuine.

“This one, then.”

“Very well. It’ll be ready in three days.”

Jiang Ji paid the deposit, then wandered around the shop. The walls were covered with scrolls and paintings. He glanced over them all—none compared to Jiang Yan’s calligraphy.

No wonder the shopkeeper wanted a piece so badly.

With handwriting that good, who on earth had Jiang Yan been before all this?

Jiang Ji peeked at his livestream chat—his viewers were already discussing the scrolls.

【Every piece looks beautiful to me.】
【That landscape painting’s gorgeous.】
【I can’t read the calligraphy, but it feels beautiful.】

Jiang Ji murmured softly, “None of these are as good as Jiang Yan’s.”

【Hahaha, Jiang Ji, are you just bragging about your own goods like an old woman selling melons?】
【We can’t read it anyway, so sure, whatever you say.】
【Yeah, you say it’s good, then it’s good.】

“I’m serious, I’m not lying to you,” Jiang Ji said with a grin. “Didn’t you see? Even the shopkeeper wants to buy Jiang Yan’s calligraphy!”

“President Xiao, are you still here? This is what the mounted scroll looks like—what do you think?”

—— Xiao Xuehai sent a reward: Rice Seed x100
—— Xiao Xuehai sent a reward: Rice Seed x100
—— Xiao Xuehai sent a reward: Rice Seed x100

【Xiao Xuehai: Yes, looks great. Thank you.】

A real tycoon indeed—three donations in a row, three hundred thousand yuan just like that. Generous as always.

Jiang Ji smiled contentedly. “As long as President Xiao’s happy. I’ll pick it up in three days and deliver it to you right after.”

Leaving the calligraphy shop, Jiang Ji wandered next door to a stationery store. There, he bought two high-quality writing brushes for Jiang Yan before heading back to meet Zhao Ru and the others to go home.

When they returned, he handed the brushes to Jiang Yan. “For you.”

“What’s this?”

Jiang Yan opened the case. Inside lay two brushes of different sizes, both made of fine wolf hair—one smaller for copying text, the other larger for bold calligraphy. The bristles were smooth and glossy, far superior to the old ones he’d been using.

Jiang Yan gently ran his fingers over them, then looked up at Jiang Ji.

“Thank you.”

Jiang Ji smiled. “No need. They’re just brushes. Use these first—I’ll get you even better ones later.”

Jiang Yan’s lips curved faintly. “Alright.”

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

The audience had been waiting the entire day—just for Jiang Ji to finally say those words.

【Draw draw draw! Hurry up!】
【It’s happening! The raffle’s starting!】
【Finally caught it live!】
【Aaaaah pick me pick me!】

“Calm down,” Jiang Ji said, settling himself onto a tree stump. “Let me figure out how this works first—it’s my first time using it. Gotta study it a bit.”

He opened the raffle system. The interface was simple enough—just two fields: number of participants and the prize. Jiang Ji frowned slightly at the prize section; it required a physical item. He asked, “2977, for the prize, do I just take a photo of it and upload it?”

【Correct. Once the host uploads a picture, the system will deliver the prepared item directly to the winner’s location.】

The audience couldn’t hear 2977’s response and flooded the chat.

【What did the system say?】
【Do winners really get the item for real?】

Jiang Ji answered, “The system says the prize must be a real object from my side. Once I take a photo and upload it, it can deliver the item straight to the winner’s world.”

【Ohhh so it’s real! Come on, let’s go!】
【Draw already!】

Jiang Ji glanced toward the house, thinking about what he could give away. “So, what kind of prize do you all want? It has to be something I actually have here.”

【Anything! I just wanna see if it actually gets delivered!】
【I want the handkerchief your mother embroidered!】
【Then I want one of those sweet potatoes—we don’t have them here! I wanna taste it!】
【I want one of Jiang Yan’s calligraphy scrolls!】
【I want Jiang Nan, he’s so cute!】

Jiang Ji laughed. “What, no one wants me? Why don’t you take me to the modern world then?”

【No thanks, we only want Jiang Nan!】
【Then I’ll take Jiang Bei!】
【I want Jiang Yan!】
【I want Sister Xia’er!】

“Enough, enough! You’re getting out of hand,” Jiang Ji said, mock-offended. “So not one person wants me, huh?”

【What would we do with you, little tanned guy?】
【Yeah, you can’t compare to Jiang Yan’s looks.】
【He’s tall, rich, and handsome. What do you have—farming skills?】

Jiang Ji laughed helplessly. “I have the system!”

【…】
【Oh right, he does have the system.】
【You sure that thing would even work in our world?】
【Hahaha exactly! It’s a farming system—we’re not short on food here!】

“Fine, fine—you win,” Jiang Ji said, heading back toward the house. “Let’s see what I can find for prizes.”

He walked around inside, then came back out to the courtyard. “Okay, first time—let’s do a small test. I’ll pick eleven people total: one grand prize winner and ten regular ones. The grand prize will be one of Jiang Yan’s calligraphy works. The other ten will each get an ancient copper coin. You don’t have these in your world, and they can’t be replicated—they’re valuable collectibles. Deal?”

【Sounds good!】
【Come on, pick more!】
【Over ten million viewers and only eleven prizes?】

“There’ll be more raffles later, don’t worry,” he said. “Besides, rarity makes things valuable. The winners can sell them for a good price if they want.”

【…Fair point. Fine, let’s go then!】

“I’ll ask Jiang Yan to write something first. How about Fortune and Prosperity?” He didn’t wait for replies. “No objections? I’ll take silence as agreement.”

【…】
【I wanted Academic Success!】
【I want Promotion and Raise!】

Jiang Ji chuckled. “All that still comes down to money in the end, doesn’t it? Be realistic!”

【Then how about the previous one Jiang Yan wrote—Abundant Wealth?】
【The mounted one!】

“No can do. That one’s hanging in my hall, and it’s not even back yet.”

He entered the main room. Jiang Yan was bent over the table copying the cultivation manual—but when Jiang Ji leaned closer, he realized he was drawing.

“Huh? You’re sketching the sweet potato seedling process?”

On the paper was a detailed illustration of laying the base fertilizer into the pit. Jiang Yan was working on the next image—arranging the sweet potatoes.

Just a few strokes, yet the figures were vivid and precise.

“Didn’t know you could draw! It’s really good,” Jiang Ji said, impressed.

Jiang Yan looked up briefly. “It’s easier to understand with pictures.”

“Thoughtful,” Jiang Ji said with a thumbs-up. Then he added, “Since you’re already illustrating, maybe add some labels too.”

Jiang Yan asked, “Labels?”

“Yeah, like this—draw a fine line and mark the approximate depth of the pit, corresponding with the written text. Anything involving numbers, just mark it clearly.”

Jiang Yan nodded. “Understood.”

“You can finish that later. Jiang Yan, do me a favor first.”

“What is it?”

“Can you write a set of calligraphy for me?” Jiang Ji asked, blinking playfully.

Jiang Yan looked at him. “What words?”

‘Happiness and Good Health,’” Jiang Ji said.

【Wait, wasn’t it Fortune and Prosperity?】
【Why’d you change it?】
【I like Happiness and Good Health!】

Jiang Yan gave him a glance, then went to fetch a large sheet of paper and laid it flat on the table.

“What style do you want?”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. “Something proper and steady—this one’s a gift, so it should look dignified and peaceful.”

Those words, he felt, shouldn’t be written in wild cursive; they should be neat and calm, giving a sense of harmony at first glance.

“Is it okay if I give it away?” Jiang Ji asked again.

Jiang Yan nodded. “Of course.”

Then, with steady focus, he began writing.

The four characters were bold and balanced, every stroke full and smooth. Just looking at them brought a quiet joy.

Jiang Ji pointed to the corner. “Sign it.”

Jiang Yan looked up. “Whose name should I sign?”

“Yours, of course,” Jiang Ji said, widening his eyes. “What, you planning to sign mine?”

Jiang Yan paused. “…You said you’re giving it away, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” Jiang Ji nodded.

After a moment’s silence, Jiang Yan said quietly, “I thought you meant to give it away under your name.”

Jiang Ji froze for a second, then burst out laughing. “I’m giving it away under my name, yes—but you’re the one who wrote it, not me. No need to lie about that.”

Besides, with all the viewers watching, they’d instantly recognize his chicken-scratch handwriting anyway.

Hearing that, Jiang Yan said nothing more and neatly signed his own name in the lower left corner.

“So beautiful,” Jiang Ji said sincerely, admiration in his voice. Every time he saw Jiang Yan’s handwriting, he couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of awe and fondness.

Jiang Yan’s eyes curved slightly as he smiled. He set the finished piece on the opposite side of the table to let the ink dry.

Jiang Ji stood beside him, admiring the work. “I’m heading to town tomorrow to pick up that other calligraphy. How about I get a seal made for you while I’m at it?”

Jiang Yan looked at him, a bit puzzled by the sudden idea.

“Don’t scholars all have personal seals? Your calligraphy’s gorgeous, and your drawings too. Having a seal on your work would make it look even better.” Jiang Ji’s tone was completely earnest. “See—right here under your name, one stamp and boom, instant refinement. And if you become famous later, you’ll need your own seal, won’t you?”

The more he thought about it, the more excited he became. “How about it? Or do you want to wait until your memory returns and then use your real name for the seal?”

Jiang Yan’s expression softened. “The name Jiang Yan is good.”

“So we’ll use that one?”

“Yes.”

Jiang Ji’s eyes lit up. “Great! Then you write it yourself, and I’ll have the engraver carve it exactly as you do.”

Jiang Yan nodded. “All right.”

He immediately began designing the characters for his seal.

Jiang Ji watched for a while. When the ink on the calligraphy had dried, he picked up the finished piece and said, “I’m taking this with me.”

“Okay,” Jiang Yan agreed readily.

“Thanks.” Jiang Ji took a few steps, then stopped, curiosity getting the better of him. He turned back and asked, “Aren’t you going to ask who I’m giving it to?”

Jiang Yan raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to tell me?”

Jiang Ji grinned and pointed upward. “To the immortals.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

With that, Jiang Ji took the calligraphy into his room and shut the door.

Jiang Yan glanced at the closed door, then calmly returned to designing his seal.

Inside the room, Jiang Ji spread the calligraphy across his bed, then took out ten copper coins and laid them out one by one.

He was about to take a photo when it suddenly hit him. “2977, how am I supposed to take pictures?”

2977 replied: 【Host, open the “Upload Prize” function in the raffle menu, focus your gaze on the item, and press scan.】

“Oh…” Jiang Ji said aloud.

The audience, unable to hear the system, quickly asked: 【What did 2977 say?】

Jiang Ji answered, “It said I can just scan with my eyes.”

【Hahaha makes sense—since your livestream uses your eyes anyway!】
【Come on, scan already! We can’t wait!】

Jiang Ji opened the raffle panel, pressed the “Upload Prize” button, and a prompt appeared before his eyes.

Following the instructions, he focused his gaze on the calligraphy. Three seconds later, the prize slot on the system interface displayed the image of Jiang Yan’s “Happiness and Good Health.”

“Whoa—it actually worked!” Jiang Ji exclaimed.

【What? What happened? Did it work?】

“It worked! The calligraphy scanned successfully!”

He then scanned the ten copper coins one by one and set the number of winners.

“2977, should I send each prize immediately or all at once after the draw?”

【That’s up to the host.】

“Got it. All right, everyone—2977 says I can send them one by one or all together. Let’s do the drawing first, then send everything at once.”

【Quick, quick!】
【Draw now!】
【Ahhh the raffle screen popped up!】
【We can see it! Host, start the draw!】
【Pick me! Pick me!】

Jiang Ji glanced at the screen. Sure enough, half the livestream display was now filled with a bright red glowing frame labeled “Prize Draw.” At the top it read “First Prize – 10 Winners.” In the middle, a rolling panel flashed through usernames, and below it was a large golden “Start” button with a results list beside it.

“Alright, I’m starting! Everyone online has a chance. First, we’ll pick ten winners—for the copper coins!”

Jiang Ji rubbed his hands excitedly. He was just as eager as the viewers—he wanted to see if the system could really send something from his world to theirs.

He tapped the button lightly.

Instantly, the names began scrolling rapidly across the middle of the screen.

The chat beside it exploded with messages—“Pick me!” “Me! Me! Me!” filling the feed completely.

After ten seconds, the first winner appeared on screen—username: “PickMePickMePickMe.”

“Congratulations to ‘PickMePickMePickMe’—looks like your name worked! The system really felt your energy!” Jiang Ji laughed.

【Hahaha this guy’s hilarious】
【Lucky name choice!】
【No way, that’s me! I won!】
【Ughhh why not me!】

Suddenly, virtual sweet potatoes filled the screen as the lucky winner sent a 100-coin gift tip, their name glittering gold at the top for everyone to see.

“Congrats to our first winner—and thanks for the tip! Let’s move on, next winner coming right up!”

Every two seconds, another name popped up until all ten winners had been drawn.

Some cheered, some groaned.

【Noooo I didn’t win! I’m changing my username!】
【Crying… still nothing!】
【Hahaha I won! My luck’s insane today—I’m buying a lottery ticket!】
【Me too! I got one!】

The screen flooded with celebratory effects—flying potatoes, ears of corn, and rice sheaves bursting across the feed as the winners sent gifts back.

Jiang Ji laughed at the chaos. “Congrats to the ten winners! For everyone else—don’t be discouraged, there’s still the grand prize to go!”

“The grand prize—let me set it up real quick, then we’ll draw!”

As Jiang Ji spoke, he adjusted the raffle interface, and the display on the livestream shifted to show Grand Prize in large golden letters.

“Attention, everyone—the grand prize is coming up!”

He tapped the button, and the names began to whirl across the screen in a dazzling blur—so fast they couldn’t be read at all.

Ten seconds later, a crisp ding sounded, and the screen froze. One big name appeared in the center:

— The Host Has a Crush on Me.

“…” Jiang Ji stared for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Congratulations to ‘The Host Has a Crush on Me’ for winning the grand prize! But for the record, the host does not have a crush on you—if anything, it’s probably the other way around!”

【Oh my god, iconic.】
【AAAAAHHH it’s me! It’s really me!】

The winner, clearly thrilled, showered the chat with gifts—bags of seed props flying across the screen in a rainbow of effects. It was obvious they were over the moon.

“Alright, folks, raffle’s done—it’s time to send out the prizes!”

Jiang Ji was dying to see what would happen. “Winners, listen up. When I send the prizes, it’s best if you’re sitting at a table. The items might appear right in front of you—or even in your hands. Oh, and if you can, please turn on your camera and record it! I really wanna see what happens, and everyone else does too, right?”

【Yes yes yes, record it!】
【Send them already!】
【Winners, post it online later! We wanna see!】
【Or better—start a livestream!】
【Wait, I’m opening my camera now!】

“No no no, don’t start another stream—you’ll steal my viewers!” Jiang Ji protested immediately.

【Hahaha, as if you need to worry! Your viewer count’s back up to what it was this morning!】

“Every viewer counts! I still need points to exchange for more seeds! I spent a ton on sweet potatoes and potatoes earlier—my points are running low!”

“Everyone ready? I’m sending the prizes!”

【Ready!】
【Go!】
【I’ve got another phone set up to stream from my end—people can watch here too!】

“Alright, here we go.”

Jiang Ji opened the “Distribute Prizes” panel and pressed the glowing button.

Instantly, before his eyes, the calligraphy scroll and the ten neatly arranged copper coins vanished from the bed—completely gone.

“What the—!” Jiang Ji shouted in surprise. “They really disappeared!”

He hurriedly patted the sheets and even lifted the blanket—nothing. The items were truly gone.

【Holy crap, they’re actually gone!】
【They vanished!】
【First he conjured things out of thin air, now he’s making them disappear—this system is legit magic!】
【AAAAAA I just had the copper coin appear in my hand!!】
【Me too! It really showed up out of nowhere!】
【No pics, no proof—show us!】
【Hang on, I’m uploading photos!】
【Check my livestream, room 897867—I got it!!】

Within seconds, half of Jiang Ji’s viewers vanished from his stream.

“Hey! Don’t all run off!!”

【Be right back!】
【Bye host, going to check their stream!】
【We’ll come back later to tell you!】

Jiang Ji: …

Sigh. Fine.

He scratched his head. After all that talking, his throat was dry. Opening the door, he stepped out—only to see Jiang Yan standing there, looking at him quietly.

“You…” Jiang Yan began, then stopped.

“What about me?” Jiang Ji blinked innocently.

Jiang Yan pressed his lips together, then asked, “Why were you shouting so loudly?”

Jiang Ji froze for half a second, gauging Jiang Yan’s expression. “Nothing—just admiring your calligraphy. It was too beautiful, I couldn’t help but praise it out loud.”

“Is that so?” Jiang Yan’s gaze lingered on him, calm but sharp. “Then take that scroll tomorrow and have it mounted before you give it away.”

“…Haha, no need,” Jiang Ji said, rubbing his nose and forcing a laugh. “They’re not that picky. I’ll just give it as-is. I’m so thirsty—I’m gonna get some water.”

He slipped away before Jiang Yan could reply.

Jiang Yan watched him leave, then went into the room. He looked around—no sign of the calligraphy anywhere.

Although Jiang Ji had closed the door earlier, his voice hadn’t exactly been quiet. With his sharp hearing, Jiang Yan had caught bits and pieces, though not enough to make sense of what the other man was doing—some of the words were unfamiliar to him.

After a moment’s thought, he turned back to his desk and resumed his work.

Meanwhile, Jiang Ji downed a bowl of water in the kitchen, his throat finally soothed.

By now, it was near dusk. Zhao Ru was preparing dinner. After the two lavish tables of food at noon, everything had been eaten, so she planned something light for the evening.

“Xiao Ji, the sun’s about to set. Go see why Xia’er and the kids aren’t back yet,” she called.

“Alright.”

Jiang Ji stepped out of the courtyard and walked toward the village entrance. Along the path, many villagers were busy tending their sweet potato seedbeds.

Someone spotted him and called out, “Jiang Ji, when do we plant the potato seedlings?”

“Tomorrow after I get back from town—I’ll show you then. Let the potatoes dry for a couple of days first, no rush.”

“Got it! Don’t forget to call us!”

“Don’t worry, Auntie, I won’t miss anyone.”

When he reached the village gate, he saw Jiang Xia, Jiang Nan, Jiang Bei, and Aunt Xiufang’s son, Dazhu, walking back together.

“Xia’er, why are you all so late today?” he asked. They were at least half an hour behind their usual time.

“Brother!” Jiang Bei spotted him first and ran up, talking rapidly, “Brother, Jiang Nan got into trouble today!”

Jiang Ji froze for a second, then quickly asked, “What kind of trouble did he cause?”

He glanced at Jiang Nan, who had his head down and didn’t dare to meet his eyes.

Jiang Bei had been about to spill everything, but seeing Dazhu there, he said instead, “I’ll tell you when we get home.”

Jiang Ji looked toward Xia’er; she nodded. “Alright then, let’s get going—Mother’s worried sick about you all.”

Once they returned home and set down their school bags, Jiang Ji gathered the group in the kitchen. “Alright, speak up—what happened?”

Jiang Nan kept his head low and stayed silent. Jiang Ji raised an eyebrow. “Jiang Nan, you tell me yourself.”

Jiang Nan peeked up at his older brother, then quickly dropped his gaze again and mumbled, “Big Brother, I… I accidentally let out our secret.”

“Hm? What secret?” Jiang Ji saw the boy’s red, tearful eyes—clearly Xia’er and Jiang Bei had already scolded him on the way home.

Jiang Nan whispered, “The… the one about the Immortal.”

Zhao Ru, who was standing nearby, immediately smacked him on the backside. “You child! You told someone about that? Didn’t I say you must never mention it?”

Jiang Nan, already feeling guilty and scared, burst into tears, choking out, “I—I didn’t mean to!”

“Mother, let’s hear the whole story first,” Jiang Ji said, stopping her. He turned to Jiang Xia. “Xia’er, explain what happened.”

Jiang Xia glanced at Jiang Nan, sighed, and said helplessly, “After school, I was packing up, and Jiang Bei was waiting for Dazhu. Two other kids came over and asked Jiang Nan where our sweet potatoes and potatoes came from. Jiang Nan blurted out that they were given by an Immortal. They didn’t believe him, and he got stubborn and started arguing, insisting it was true. I finally had to knock him on the head to make him stop.”

“That’s it?” Jiang Ji raised an eyebrow.

Jiang Xia nodded. “Yes, just that. We already scolded him.”

Hearing this, Jiang Ji relaxed. Kids’ talk like that probably wouldn’t be taken seriously anyway—and saying “an Immortal gave them” made it sound even more far-fetched.

Still, he couldn’t let Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei think it was a small matter. Otherwise, they might start running their mouths about family matters again.

Kids were prone to slip-ups, so they needed to learn the importance of keeping quiet.

After a moment’s thought, Jiang Ji’s expression hardened. He frowned and said sternly, “Jiang Nan, lift your head and look at me.”

Jiang Nan’s small hands clutched the hem of his shirt. His eyes were red, tears hanging on his lashes.

As the eldest brother, Jiang Ji’s words carried weight—and when he got serious, he was genuinely intimidating.

Jiang Nan looked up nervously, eyes watery. “Big Brother, I know I was wrong.”

“What exactly was wrong?” Jiang Ji asked.

“I…” Jiang Nan broke down completely and started crying. “I shouldn’t have said it! And I shouldn’t have argued! Wuwuwu… Big Brother, do you think the Immortal will stop giving us treasures now?”

Now he remembered the “treasures.” Jiang Ji almost wanted to laugh, but he kept his face stern. “So you do know saying things like that could make us lose them?”

“I know,” Jiang Nan sobbed, nodding. “I just… forgot at the time…”

Jiang Ji: …

He waited until the boy’s crying quieted, then said coldly, “Have you cried enough?”

Jiang Nan flinched, startled by his tone. His sobs hiccuped to a stop, and he sniffled, whispering, “Y-yes… enough…”

Jiang Ji’s voice was calm but firm. “Do you know why we had thieves in the house last night?”

Jiang Nan nodded weakly. “Because… they saw we had money and came to steal it.”

“Exactly. Having money isn’t wrong—but you can’t be careless. Some people are greedy. When they see others doing well, they get jealous and try to take what’s not theirs. That’s why there’s an old saying: Don’t show off your wealth. It means we shouldn’t flaunt what we have, or we’ll attract those with bad intentions. Just like yesterday—selling some seeds earned us a few coins, and that alone brought thieves to our door.”

Jiang Nan frowned slightly. “So… we’re not allowed to earn money?”

“Of course you are,” Jiang Ji said, flicking the boy’s forehead lightly. “I’m telling you that when we do have money or treasures, we keep it to ourselves. Don’t brag, don’t tell others. Stay humble, so bad people won’t notice or target you. Got it?”

Jiang Nan rubbed his head and nodded obediently. “Got it.”

“So, our treasure—what we have—it must never be mentioned. I’ve told you before, remember?”

“I remember.”

“Good. Since you admit your mistake, your punishment is to copy today’s homework twenty extra times.” Jiang Ji turned to Jiang Xia. “You had homework today?”

“Yes. We learned new characters and need to write ten pages of large script.”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Then Jiang Nan, you’ll write twenty extra pages as punishment. Do you accept?”

Twenty extra pages?

Jiang Nan’s face crumpled instantly, but one look at his brother’s expression and he lowered his head again, mumbling, “I accept.”

“Alright then. Before it gets dark, go write. I’ll check it when you’re done.”

“Oh…”

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei went to the main room to write.

Zhao Ru asked worriedly, “Xiao Ji, will anything happen because Jiang Nan talked?”

Jiang Ji shook his head. “It should be fine, Mother. Don’t worry. If anyone asks, just say it was nonsense from a child—that we were joking with Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei.”

Zhao Ru nodded. “Alright. Xia’er, remember that too—say the same if anyone asks.”

“I will,” Jiang Xia said.

“And watch those two at school. Don’t let them run their mouths again.”

“I know, Mother.”

Before dinner, Jiang Bei and Jiang Xia had already finished their ten pages of writing. Jiang Nan, who never liked studying or writing, struggled miserably. After dinner, he sat under the dim light of the tung-oil lamp and spent another full hour scribbling before he finally finished his punishment.

“Big Brother, I—I finished writing.”

Jiang Nan handed over the thirty sheets of large-character calligraphy he had written. His small hands were stained completely black with ink, and even the cloth sleeves Zhao Ru had made for him were blotched all over.

Jiang Ji took the papers, frowned at the first glance. He had just reviewed Jiang Bei and Jiang Xia’s handwriting earlier. Jiang Xia’s, of course, was neater—she was older, with better sense for structure and form—but even Jiang Bei’s was far superior to Jiang Nan’s.

Still, Jiang Ji restrained himself. He flipped through the sheets one by one. There were indeed thirty.

“Alright. Not bad—you finished it.”

Hearing that, Jiang Nan finally exhaled in relief.

But then he heard his brother add, “Jiang Nan, how about you go practice a bit more?”

Jiang Nan: …

Well, punishment complete at least. Big Brother didn’t seem angry anymore, and the ordeal had left a deep impression. Jiang Nan had learned his lesson: never show off your wealth, never talk about treasures.

Later that night, before going to bed, Jiang Ji remembered to check the livestream again.

He asked, “So, my friends, how did it go? Did everyone actually receive their prizes? Were they the same as what you saw in the stream?”

【It’s real! They really got the prizes!】
【This is unbelievable!】
【Exactly the same!】
【That guy who won the grand prize filmed a video—the calligraphy looks identical to what Jiang Yan wrote in your stream. No one here writes that kind of script!】
【I saw the comments—people are already offering big money to buy it.】
【Not just the calligraphy, even the copper coins—people are asking if they’re for sale!】

“Oh?” Jiang Ji’s interest was instantly piqued. “How much are we talking?”

【The calligraphy already has offers up to five million.】
【The copper coins are going for three million.】
【Someone claiming to be an antiquities expert wants to borrow one for research!】
【Breaking news—the calligraphy caught a collector’s eye. He just said he’s willing to pay ten million for it.】

Jiang Ji: “!”

“Ten million?” His eyes practically sparkled. “Quick, tell that collector to buy from me!”

【Haha, look at the host—eyes glowing like gold coins.】
【You can’t sell it though, can you? It was a raffle prize!】
【Yeah, you can’t just send it to whoever you want.】

Before Jiang Ji could reply, a cascade of flashy effects flooded the screen—fields of golden rice-seed props, each worth a thousand yuan.

At the top of the screen, a username glowed in gold letters:

— “Xiao Xuehai” has sent 100 Rice Seed gifts.

【Host, that’s him! The same tycoon who offered ten million!】
【Yeah, he’s a famous entrepreneur—huge collector of antiques!】
【Super rich!】

Jiang Ji straightened in excitement. “Thank you, President Xiao, for your generous gifts! I heard you really liked that calligraphy?”

— “Xiao Xuehai” sent 100 Rice Seeds.

— Xiao Xuehai: Yes. Is there any way I could get one?

“Hold on, let me ask.” Jiang Ji immediately turned to the system. “2977, can I send a prize to a specific person?”

2977 replied coldly: 【No.】

Jiang Ji: …

He quickly started scheming. “Hey, 2977, come on—this is a livestream system, right? Other platforms have features like that. Shouldn’t you, too? Look, the big sponsors are throwing in so many gifts—they’re funding our glorious farming enterprise! Don’t you think we should show a little appreciation? Maybe a special gift for our number-one supporter?”

2977 remained silent.

Jiang Ji pressed on. “Don’t let other systems outshine you. Check any major platform—they all give top supporters VIP treatment, right?”

After a long pause, 2977 finally responded: 【Prizes may be given, but only if certain conditions are met.】

“What conditions?”

【Special Task 188: A viewer who reaches 20 million in monthly donations may receive one prize of the host’s choice.】

“Huh? There’s a task like that?”

Jiang Ji immediately opened the task panel, scrolled through the “Special Tasks” section—and sure enough, there it was: “Special Task 188,” just as 2977 had said.

“This task is insane! No wonder it’s buried so deep.”

【What? What did it say?】
【Tell us!】

Jiang Ji scratched his head. “2977 says I can’t send prizes directly—but if someone completes a certain task, then I can.”

【What task?】
【Come on, spill it!】

Jiang Ji: “A viewer has to donate twenty million in one month.”

【!】
【Whoa, your system is savage!】
【Who could ever do that?!】
【Figures—it’s called a ‘special task’ for a reason. Way beyond us mortals.】

Just then, the livestream erupted again—endless rice-seed props fluttering across the screen like golden rain.

— “Xiao Xuehai” sent 100 Rice Seeds.
— “Xiao Xuehai” sent 100 Rice Seeds.
— “Xiao Xuehai” sent 100 Rice Seeds.

Line after line of dazzling golden notifications filled the top of the screen, completely burying the viewers’ comments beneath a storm of effects.

Jiang Ji: !

He glanced at the chat—all the viewers were just as stunned.

【Oh my god! President Xiao is the real deal!】
【Respect!】
【All hail President Xiao!】

Jiang Ji looked at the donation leaderboard—Xiao Xuehai’s name had shot straight to first place.

He switched to the backend view, watching as the total climbed—hundreds of thousands, millions, tens of millions—until finally, it hit twenty million flat.

The golden rain of rice seeds lasted a long time before fading. The whole stream was in uproar.

Jiang Ji raised an eyebrow, thinking, Looks like the guy really does love antiques.

He used to be rich himself; spending tens of millions—or even hundreds—on collectibles wasn’t unheard of.

“Thank you, President Xiao. So, you’d like a piece of Jiang Yan’s calligraphy?”

The tycoon sent another hundred rice seeds and replied:

— Xiao Xuehai: Yes.

“Alright then, what would you like him to write? Four characters or fewer, preferably.”

— Xiao Xuehai: Anything’s fine.

Jiang Ji: …

Nothing annoyed him more than people saying “anything’s fine.” How was he supposed to decide that?

He thought for a moment—big businessmen usually liked elegant or auspicious phrases. “Then I’ll pick one for you, how’s that?”

— Xiao Xuehai: Sure.

Jiang Ji immediately sprinted into the main hall. Jiang Yan had just finished washing up when Jiang Ji dashed in and threw his arms around him.

“Jiang Yan! Quick! Write another one for me—we’re about to strike it rich! The rice seeds are rolling in!”

Jiang Yan: “?”

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

The silly netizens were having far too much fun. Jiang Ji stopped looking at the live chat—otherwise, they’d just start imagining all kinds of ridiculous things again.

When they reached the city, Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan first went to exchange their silver for notes, while the village chief and the others waited outside the county office with the two prisoners.

The exchange went quickly. In just a quarter of an hour, the two were done and hurried back to the yamen.

By then, the live stream already had over six million viewers—and the number was still climbing fast.

At the gate of the yamen, the village chief and his men stood guard over the thieves. Wang Xingye’s father, brothers, and aunt were there too.

When Jiang Ji arrived, Wang Xingye’s father immediately tried to step forward to stop him, only for Jiang Yan to raise an arm and block him.

“Don’t report it!” the man said anxiously. “Tell me what you want for compensation—anything, all right?”

Jiang Ji shook his head. “Not all right.”

“What do you want, then?! Isn’t silver enough for you?”

“Your son did wrong,” Jiang Ji said evenly. “He should bear the consequences of his actions.”

With that, he walked up the steps and struck the drum beside the county office gate.

Dong, dong, dong—

The drum echoed down the long street.

Someone was striking the grievance drum—within moments, people from nearby streets came running to watch the commotion.

“Court—session—begins!”

Amid the loud calls of “Wei—wu—!” from the yamen runners, Jiang Ji and the others were led into the courtroom to wait for the magistrate to take his seat.

It wasn’t their first time here, and this time the village chief and Uncle Tu Gen were much calmer.

Jiang Ji, meanwhile, still had the presence of mind to check the live chat and viewer count.

Good—over seven million now.

【Came from the trending page—has it started yet?】
【I’m here, did I make it in time?】
【That grievance drum is just like the ones in our history dramas!】
【The yamen officers look intimidating—love the atmosphere.】
【Platform’s got the stream featured on the homepage now.】
【Yeah, I clicked in from there—the title hooked me.】
【LOL, the platform used to try shutting this stream down. No matter what they did, it wouldn’t work.】
【Why block it? If you can’t beat it, join it. Look at the view count—it’s gold!】
【My buddy works at Whale Live. He said at first they thought it was a virus. The tech team couldn’t find the code tied to this stream, no matter how hard they tried. Now their boss has given up—he just watches Jiang Ji’s stream every day and told the company to start promoting it.】
【Of course they can’t block it—it’s the system! Mortal hands can’t touch that.】
【Haha, that boss finally figured it out.】
【Exactly. Who cares if it’s not technically part of your platform—it doesn’t hurt your system and it’s bringing massive traffic. Win-win.】
【Bet the boss wants to see if the raffle will really deliver something to our world.】
【Same. I joined just for that raffle—want to see if it’s real!】
【Everyone push the numbers!】

Reading the comments, Jiang Ji realized why the viewership was climbing so fast—it was on the homepage and trending. In just those few minutes, the count had surged past eight million.

His audience really was incredible. Say “get on the trending page,” and they made it happen within minutes.

And the platform? Finally doing the smart thing, Jiang Ji thought.

“His Excellency, the County Magistrate—arrives!”

【Here we go! The magistrate’s here!】
【Let’s begin!】

The yamen officers’ shouts died down as the magistrate took his seat. He looked down at the gathered crowd, struck the wooden gavel on his desk, and said, “Who struck the grievance drum?”

“Reporting to Your Excellency, it was this commoner.” Jiang Ji raised his head to face the magistrate, and before being asked, stated clearly, “This commoner is Jiang Ji of Shanqian Village.”

“Shanqian Village… Jiang Ji?” The magistrate squinted down at him and immediately recognized the young man. “You again?”

It had only been half a month since their last encounter. The magistrate remembered the articulate young villager clearly—he’d handled himself neatly last time, and that case had even ended in a sentence of exile.

Jiang Ji: “…Yes, me again.”

【Hahaha, that ‘again’ says it all】
【The magistrate actually remembers him!】

Realizing his slip, the magistrate cleared his throat. “Ahem. And why have you come knocking this time?”

Jiang Ji gestured beside him. “This commoner accuses Wang Xingye and Wang Daqiang of Xiaokeng Village. The two broke into my home in the middle of the night to steal and were caught on the spot.”

The magistrate glanced at the two bound young men and signaled the officers to loosen their ropes slightly.

Then he asked, “You two—state your names, ages, and village.”

Wang Daqiang, terrified, fell to his knees and stammered, “C-c-commoner Wang Daqiang… from Xiaokeng Village, west of the city.”

Wang Xingye was panicking too. “C-Commoner Wang… Wang Xingye, from Xiaokeng Village, west of the city.”

The magistrate continued, “Jiang Ji accuses you two of breaking into his home to steal. Do you admit your guilt?”

Wang Daqiang and Wang Xingye exchanged a glance but said nothing.

Beside them, Jiang Ji, bored, peeked at the floating livestream interface.

【Congratulations, Host! You’ve completed the daily milestone of 10 million concurrent viewers! The livestream’s raffle feature is now unlocked—ready for use~】

System 2977’s cheerful voice rang out. Jiang Ji raised an eyebrow and checked the counter—sure enough, it had already surpassed ten million and was still rising fast.

Ah, the combined power of trending searches and homepage promotion really was something!

【Ahhh! Ten million!】
【The raffle’s open now, right?! Right?!】
【Confirmed! Ten million concurrent viewers reached!】
【But the streamer’s busy in court—he probably doesn’t know yet】
【Let’s just wait. The trial’s getting good anyway】

While the magistrate waited for an answer, neither thief spoke. With a sharp snap! the wooden gavel struck the desk.

The crisp sound exploded through the hall, snapping Jiang Ji back to attention. Everyone flinched—including the two culprits kneeling on the floor, who both shuddered violently.

“Answer this official’s question! Wang Daqiang, you speak first!” The magistrate’s voice turned stern.

“C-Commoner…” Wang Daqiang stammered, trembling. “C-Commoner was… was persuaded by Wang Xingye. I didn’t—I didn’t want to go.”

Wang Xingye glared at him, eyes blazing. “Your Excellency, that’s not true—”

“This official has not asked you yet. You will speak when you are spoken to.” The magistrate turned back. “So you admit you went there to steal? Speak clearly, Wang Daqiang.”

Hunched and shaking, Wang Daqiang answered, “C-Commoner was sleeping at home yesterday afternoon when Wang Xingye came to find me. He said he and his father went to visit his aunt and found that her village—Shanqian Village—had a family selling some new kind of sweet potato and… some kind of bean seed. Everyone there was buying, and that family made a fortune—at least two or three hundred taels of silver. He said if I went with him, we could make some easy money.”

“At first I didn’t want to, but Wang Xingye said the man of that house had died, and only weak women and children were left—just one young man under twenty, Jiang Ji. It wouldn’t be dangerous. So… I got tempted.”

“We reached their village after dark, waited until midnight…” Wang Daqiang’s voice grew small and plaintive. “Who knew—they caught us as soon as we went in! We were careful! Even their dog didn’t bark!”

He truly couldn’t figure out how Jiang Ji had known—they’d been waiting inside as if expecting them.

His account was clear enough. The magistrate struck the gavel again. Snap! “Wang Xingye, what have you to say?”

While Wang Daqiang spoke, Wang Xingye’s mind had been racing, trying to find a way out. Now he stammered, “Your Excellency, I—Commoner is innocent! I only… only told Wang Daqiang that Jiang Ji’s family had earned a lot of silver. He’s the one who said we should go steal!”

Wang Daqiang’s eyes went wide. “Nonsense! You said yourself you didn’t have enough to marry and wanted to steal money to build a new house and get a pretty wife—it was your idea!”

Wang Xingye shouted louder, drowning him out. “You’re the one who begged me! You’re broke—you needed the money and dragged me along!”

The magistrate rubbed his temples, clearly losing patience. He struck the gavel again. Bang! “Silence!”

Both men flinched and shut their mouths.

The magistrate asked, “When you spoke of this plan, was anyone else present?”

Wang Daqiang: “No.”
Wang Xingye: “No.”

The magistrate sighed inwardly. He’d seen plenty of cases like this—no witnesses, no third party, and each blaming the other. There was no way to tell who had instigated it.

But attempted theft was undeniable.

He didn’t have time for endless squabbling. “Both of you, lying and deceiving this court—ten strokes of the board each!”

“No! Your Excellency, I’m telling the truth! Every word!” cried Wang Daqiang.

Wang Xingye, terrified at the mention of beating, broke into a cold sweat. He didn’t want to be caned—but maybe, just maybe, if Wang Daqiang confessed first, he’d get off lightly?

The magistrate noted their reactions and said coldly, “Begin with Wang Xingye.”

Immediately, the yamen runners brought out the wide punishment bench, grabbed Wang Xingye, and forced him down over it. Two officers lifted heavy bamboo boards and began.

Whack!

The sound of the strike echoed sharply through the hall.

“Ah—!”

Wang Xingye screamed. The pain was unbearable.

“Ye’er! Your Excellency, my son is innocent!” cried his father, trying to rush forward, only for Li Lao’er’s wife to grab his sleeve and whisper, “Brother, don’t! Remember what happened when my mother-in-law was beaten?”

He froze—right, Jin Hua had been struck ten times on this very bench for lying to the magistrate.

In the center of the hall, Wang Xingye wailed, tears and snot streaming. After just a few blows he couldn’t take it anymore. “I confess! Your Excellency, I confess! I was the one who told Wang Daqiang to steal money! I confess—please stop!”

The magistrate didn’t order them to stop until the full ten strokes were done. By then, Wang Xingye’s backside was swollen and bleeding through his trousers.

Dragged back to kneel, he trembled as the magistrate asked, “Wang Xingye, state truthfully everything you have done.”

Still shaking, in pain and fear, he began to speak—about how he and his father had gone to visit his aunt, passed by a house where villagers were leaving with baskets full of unfamiliar goods, all smiling and cheerful. Curious, they’d asked and learned that the household was selling seeds. They’d gone in for a look, and he’d seen piles of silver on the table…

At that, the magistrate interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “Unfamiliar seeds? What kind of seeds were they?”

“They said it’s called sweet potato and potato,” Wang Xingye answered.

The magistrate had never heard of such things. He turned to Jiang Ji. “What are these?”

Jiang Ji replied respectfully, “Reporting to Your Excellency, these are crops I obtained from southern traders. They’re not native to our region. Besides sweet potatoes and potatoes, there’s also maize. All of them are filling and can be stored through winter. I wanted to introduce them to the villagers so no one would go hungry when the cold season comes.”

The magistrate nodded thoughtfully, saying nothing further for now, and motioned for Wang Xingye to continue his confession.

Wang Xingye recounted the entire sequence of events in detail, which largely matched what Wang Daqiang had said before.

The case was clear—facts established, evidence straightforward.

At last, the magistrate rendered his judgment:

“Wang Xingye and Wang Daqiang of Xiaokeng Village, tempted by greed, attempted to steal from another household. Though the act was not completed, the intent was wicked, and theft was indeed attempted.

“According to the laws of our dynasty, this official now declares: Wang Daqiang, fifty strokes of the whip; Wang Xingye, as the instigator—who not only falsely accused another in court but also tried to deceive this official and show contempt for the law—shall receive one hundred strokes. Execute immediately as warning to all!”

“Court dismissed!”

As the yamen officers dragged Wang Daqiang and Wang Xingye away for punishment, their screams echoed through the courtyard. Jiang Ji and his group did not linger to watch; they turned to leave the hall.

Just as they reached the gate, a bearded middle-aged man stepped forward to block their way.

“Brother Jiang Ji, please stay.”

Jiang Ji recognized him—it was the magistrate’s advisor, the shiye, who had been standing beside the bench earlier.

Jiang Ji cupped his hands politely. “Sir, what may I do for you?”

The man smiled. “Young man, the magistrate requests your presence.”

“?” Jiang Ji hesitated for a moment. “Sir, may I ask what for?”

“Oh, nothing serious,” the advisor said. “The magistrate heard about the new crops you’ve acquired and wishes to learn more about them.”

Hearing this, Jiang Ji exchanged a quick glance with Jiang Yan, then nodded. “Very well.”

He turned to the village chief and said, “Could you wait for me at the gate?”

The advisor smiled. “No need. The magistrate invites everyone.”

“We’re going too?” the village chief asked nervously.

The idea of facing the magistrate again made him uneasy—his stern face from the courtroom was still fresh in their minds.

“Yes,” said the advisor.

Jiang Ji nodded to the chief. “Let’s all go, then.”

The group followed the advisor into a room at the back of the compound.

He guided them to sit. “Please, take a seat. The magistrate is finishing some matters and will be here shortly.”

They sat down. The village chief and the others looked uneasy, while only Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan remained calm, even glancing casually around the room.

A yamen officer came in to serve tea, and the advisor made small talk until the magistrate entered.

Everyone rose and bowed slightly. “Your Excellency.”

Dressed in his official robe, the magistrate raised a hand. “No need for formality. Sit.”

Once he was seated at the head of the table, the others followed suit.

The magistrate took a sip of tea, then looked around before addressing Jiang Ji. “Young man, I heard you mention in court a new kind of crop called sweet potato. I’d like to know more about it—what sort of plant is it?”

At that, Jiang Ji paused, exchanged another look with Jiang Yan, and answered cautiously, “Your Excellency, this commoner didn’t bring any with him today.”

He kept his reply brief.

After all, he didn’t know the magistrate’s true intentions. From all the dramas he’d watched in his past life, he knew how greedy and corrupt some officials could be—extorting commoners under pretense of “inspection.” Though this magistrate had judged fairly in court, Jiang Ji didn’t know what he was like in private.

What if the man wanted the seeds for himself to make a profit?

Not that Jiang Ji feared losing them—after all, they came from the system and couldn’t truly be taken—but he couldn’t very well conjure up a fake “trader” to back up his story. There was no such person.

The magistrate asked again, “Then tell me: what sort of plant is it? Does it grow in paddy fields or dry soil? How much yield per acre?”

Jiang Ji blinked. “We’re planting it for the first time, Your Excellency. Haven’t even begun seedling cultivation yet, so I’m not sure of the exact yield.”

The village chief and other villagers looked at him strangely—this wasn’t what he’d told them before. But in front of the magistrate, none dared to speak.

“I see.” The magistrate nodded slightly, then continued, “Do you at least know how to plant it properly?”

Jiang Ji said, “I’ve inquired about the general method.”

The village chief, watching both the magistrate and Jiang Ji, began to understand why the young man was speaking so vaguely. His hand clenched around his trouser leg under the table—he was worried for Jiang Ji.

The magistrate studied Jiang Ji for a moment. The young man’s words sounded polite and complete, yet he’d revealed nothing of real substance. The official’s eyes glinted—and then he suddenly laughed.

The unexpected laughter startled everyone present.

Why was the magistrate laughing?

Could it be—now that he knew about the grain and the planting method, he wanted to take it for himself?

The village chief’s heart tightened. If the magistrate really intended to seize Jiang Ji’s supply, they’d have no power to resist—and would probably have to pay double in the future just to get seeds.

“Young man,” the magistrate asked with a smile, “are you afraid I’ll steal your business?”

Jiang Ji froze for a heartbeat, then feigned ignorance. “Your Excellency jests.”

“Hahaha!” The magistrate laughed heartily and turned to the advisor. “See that? He doesn’t trust me—he’s being cautious.”

Jiang Ji: “…”
Village chief: “…”
Other villagers: Ah, so that’s what this is about!

Jiang Yan, meanwhile, observed quietly, thoughtful.

The advisor chuckled too. “Young man, perhaps you don’t know—our magistrate is also a native of Changping County, from Taolin Village under Qingyun Town to the east. He cares deeply for the people. When he heard you’d brought in new crops, he simply wished to know whether these can be spread across the county—so that everyone may grow more food and live better lives.”

The magistrate added with a smile, “I promise not to steal your business.”

Jiang Ji: “…”
Village chief and others: “…”

Everyone felt a bit more at ease. The other villagers finally understood why Jiang Ji had been so vague earlier—it turned out he was being cautious in case the magistrate had ulterior motives. None of them had even thought of that.

The magistrate stroked his beard and looked at Jiang Ji with amusement. “Well then, young man, can you tell me now?”

Jiang Ji blinked. “Your Excellency truly intends to promote these crops widely?”

“Of course,” the magistrate nodded, gazing thoughtfully toward the doorway. His tone grew deep and earnest. “Our grain yields have long been low, and people still struggle with hunger and cold. The court has been trying for years to improve this, but progress has been minimal. If there’s truly a way to increase food production and help the people live better lives, it would be a great act of merit and benevolence.”

Then he turned back to Jiang Ji. “Young man, if you truly have a means to raise grain yield—through new crops or new methods—the county office will fully support you in promoting them. Should this succeed, I guarantee I will report it truthfully to the imperial court, and you shall receive proper recognition. Are you willing?”

The sincerity in his tone moved Jiang Ji. He didn’t press about merchants or trade; the magistrate’s questions were focused only on yield and cultivation, not profit. Jiang Ji glanced at Jiang Yan, who gave a small nod.

Jiang Ji turned back and replied, “Your Excellency, I had already planned to promote these new crops gradually. At present, everyone in our village has bought sweet potatoes and potatoes, and we are about to begin seedling cultivation.”

“Oh?” The magistrate leaned forward with interest. “You intended to promote them yourself? Tell me more—what are these new crops like? I’ve never even seen them. And what is this seedling cultivation you mentioned?”

Jiang Ji scratched his head. “Your Excellency, I didn’t bring any with me today. How about I bring some tomorrow for you to see?”

“No need. You have them at home, don’t you? Would it be convenient for me to visit and see them myself?” the magistrate asked.

Jiang Ji hadn’t expected him to personally visit the countryside. That genuine willingness made him trust the man more. He smiled. “If Your Excellency is willing, you are most welcome to my humble home.”

“Excellent. Wait for me a moment; I’ll change into casual clothes and we’ll depart.” The magistrate looked quite pleased and quickly went to change.

Jiang Ji and the others waited by the gate. Soon the magistrate returned, accompanied by the assistant magistrate and the advisor. A carriage was brought forward, and the magistrate invited Jiang Ji to ride with him.

Jiang Ji guessed he probably wanted to ask more about the new crops during the ride, so before leaving, he called over Uncle Tu Gen, gave him some silver, and asked him to buy fish and meat from the market.

It would be around noon when they returned—he had to host the magistrate for lunch, after all.

Uncle Tu Gen grabbed another villager, and the two hurried off to the market. Jiang Ji climbed into the magistrate’s carriage.

As expected, the magistrate used the trip to ask more about the new crops, and Jiang Ji explained everything he could along the way.

When they reached the village, Jiang Ji asked the village chief to stay and accompany them, then invited the other men who had gone to court to come for lunch later. After that, he led the magistrate into his home.

Zhao Ru was startled to see the magistrate himself in her courtyard. Jiang Ji quickly explained the situation and told her to prepare lunch—two tables’ worth—and that Uncle Tu Gen would be bringing ingredients shortly.

Zhao Ru went to start cooking. Before long, Uncle Tu Gen and another clansman returned carrying chicken, pork, and fish. Uncle Tu Gen then fetched Aunt Xiufang to help with meal preparation.

Meanwhile, Jiang Ji brought the magistrate into the main hall and untied several bags stacked in the corner. “Your Excellency, these are the sweet potatoes, and this bag here is the potato seed stock. I’ll cook some at noon for you to try.”

“These should be saved for seed,” the magistrate said, reluctant to touch them. “There aren’t many here. It’s enough to confirm they’re edible; we’ll wait until they’re grown to taste them properly.”

Jiang Ji smiled. “It’s no problem. Sweet potato vines can be propagated by cuttings—they’ll grow again once planted.”

Hearing this, the magistrate nodded. “In that case, boil one or two just to sample the flavor—no need for more.”

Seeing how careful and appreciative the magistrate was, Jiang Ji’s impression of him improved further. “Understood.”

He went into his room and retrieved a few ears of corn from the system. “Your Excellency, there’s also this—it’s called maize, or corn. Each kernel can be planted as seed.”

The magistrate’s eyes brightened as he looked at the golden grains. “Ah, this is the one you mentioned that can be planted alongside soybeans or peanuts?”

“Yes, that’s it.”

The magistrate lifted an ear to his nose—there was a faint, sweet scent. “Wonderful. If it truly grows alongside other crops, that means one plot of land could yield two harvests. Excellent!”

After examining the sweet potatoes, potatoes, and corn, his gaze fell upon the books laid out on the table. Curious, he picked one up—and realized it contained written planting instructions.

He flipped through the booklet titled Sweet Potato Cultivation Guide. The handwriting was neat and elegant—clearly the work of a practiced hand.

The first page was a “Table of Contents,” listing the page numbers for each growth stage. The magistrate recognized it as a structured manual.

He turned to the next page—“Overview of Sweet Potatoes”—which introduced the crop, followed by sections on seedling cultivation, transplanting, field management, pest control, harvest, and storage.

After skimming through, the magistrate looked up in astonishment. “Brother Jiang Ji, did you write this yourself?”

Jiang Ji nodded. “I compiled it from what the traders told me. Jiang Yan copied it neatly; my brushwork isn’t very good.”

“Brother Jiang Yan’s calligraphy is excellent,” the magistrate praised.

Jiang Yan replied calmly, “Your Excellency flatters me.”

The magistrate smiled again and said to Jiang Ji, “To think you even organized the planting methods into a proper booklet—this is a great deed!”

Jiang Ji smiled modestly. “I just thought, once it’s spread widely, I won’t be able to personally explain to every village how to plant it. Better to let them learn from the book.”

“Indeed. Very thoughtful of you,” the magistrate said approvingly.

He chatted with Jiang Ji for quite some time and came away deeply impressed. Though the young man was a villager, his mind was sharp and his vision far-reaching. He had already planned out how to promote these new crops—and had even considered things the magistrate himself hadn’t yet thought of.

The magistrate sighed with admiration. “I originally came thinking I might offer some small help, but it turns out you’ve already thought everything through. I truly underestimated you before—I owe you an apology.”

For an official of his rank to apologize to a commoner, even one of lower status, was a rare thing. Jiang Ji’s respect for the magistrate rose even higher. Perhaps this really was an honest, people-minded official.

Jiang Ji scratched his head and smiled. “Your Excellency is too kind. If you and the county office are willing to help with the promotion, that would be even better—it’ll make it easier for everyone to accept the new crops.”

He paused for a moment, as though hesitating to speak.

The magistrate noticed and said kindly, “Speak freely—whatever’s on your mind.”

“It’s about the pricing of the seeds,” Jiang Ji said cautiously. “Would it be possible for me to set the price myself?”

The magistrate looked at him and smiled. “Naturally. The county office won’t interfere. We can help you with manpower and organization, but there’s just one condition—keep the price reasonable. Don’t raise it too much from what it is now, all right?”

It was a fair request. Even a good official had to guard against someone monopolizing such a valuable commodity and exploiting the people.

Jiang Ji saw that the magistrate didn’t intend to take control of his profits and immediately nodded. “Of course. The price will stay the same.”

They then talked in detail for quite some time, discussing how each stage of the project could be implemented and what plans would work best.

When lunchtime came, two tables were set. Jiang Ji, Jiang Yan, the village chief, and two highly respected clan elders sat with the magistrate, the deputy magistrate, and the advisor. The other villagers ate together at the second table.

Jiang Ji introduced the dishes. “Your Excellency, this is steamed sweet potato, corn, and potato. These two are shredded potato stir-fry and braised pork with potato. And this one is corn, carrot, and pork rib soup. Please, have a taste.”

The steamed sweet potatoes, corn, and potatoes were cut into small pieces. The magistrate, deputy magistrate, and advisor each picked up a piece to try.

The magistrate had chosen a piece of sweet potato. It was soft, sweet, and fragrant, melting in his mouth the moment he bit into it.

His eyes lit up. “Delicious.”

The advisor and deputy magistrate, who had each tried the corn, also nodded in delight.

After sampling the steamed foods, they moved on to the dishes. The shredded potatoes were crisp and refreshing; the braised pork with potatoes was tender and rich; and the corn and carrot rib soup was clear and sweet.

“Exquisite!”
“I never imagined corn soup could be so naturally sweet!”
“And these potatoes—fried, stewed, or steamed, they each have their own flavor and texture. Remarkable!”

All three praised the food endlessly.

The village chief and the clan elders, eating these dishes for the first time as well, were astonished. Their confidence in these new crops grew stronger with every bite.

With such good taste, selling them would never be a problem!

After the meal, upon hearing that Jiang Ji was going to teach the villagers how to cultivate sweet potato seedlings, the magistrate decided to stay and watch.

The village chief quickly sent word around, and soon people from every household gathered at Jiang Ji’s field.

Everyone already knew the magistrate had come. Seeing him in person left them both shocked and nervous. But after watching how easily Jiang Ji spoke and laughed with him, they realized that although the magistrate looked stern, he was actually quite approachable.

Gradually, the villagers relaxed, and some even dared to chat with him directly.

While the village chief was still summoning people, Jiang Ji, Jiang Yan, and Uncle Tu Gen had already started digging the seedbed pits.

When the chief reported that everyone had arrived—some from neighboring villages who had bought seeds also came—Jiang Ji began teaching.

“Uncles, aunts, listen up. For sweet potato seedling cultivation, first you dig a pit—about this deep. The size depends on how many seed potatoes you have. Spread them evenly.”

“Once the pit’s ready, use old animal manure—pig, cow, chicken, or duck droppings that have aged for a few months. Mix it with soil, spread a layer at the bottom. If you’re using straw bedding from the pens, cover it with a bit of soil afterward. That’s your base fertilizer. I’m using leftovers from last year.”

He spoke as he demonstrated, while Uncle Tu Gen and Jiang Yan helped. Seeing them busy, the village chief joined in too.

“Next, dig a shallow drainage trench about a foot deep to prevent waterlogging. Third, lay the sweet potatoes flat, one by one, neatly spaced.”

The villagers joined in, and soon they had placed enough sweet potatoes to fill two acres of seedbed.

“Step four, cover the sweet potatoes with a layer of soil.”

They shoveled quickly, covering the rows with earth.

“Step five, water them thoroughly.”

“Step six, cover the top with straw to keep it warm. You can use plenty, and remember to dig drainage trenches around the bed as well.”

Since there was no plastic film in this era, straw worked perfectly fine, especially with the weather already warm.

When everything was finished, Jiang Ji clapped his hands. “All right, everyone got it? Simple, isn’t it?”

“That’s all? That’s pretty easy!”
“I remember it now.”
“I’ll dig my pit and start when I get home.”

When the crowd dispersed, Jiang Ji escorted the magistrate out and finally let out a long breath of relief.

Watching the carriage roll away, he asked Jiang Yan, “What do you think of the magistrate? Do you think he truly means to promote these crops?”

Jiang Yan’s gaze was calm but deep. “For now, he seems trustworthy.”

They exchanged a look. “We’ll keep observing,” Jiang Yan added.

Jiang Ji nodded. “Right.”

Back home, Jiang Ji washed his hands, then stepped out into the courtyard and opened his livestream.

That morning’s court trial had peaked at over 25 million viewers. Though it had dropped since, there were still more than 15 million watching.

“Brothers and sisters, thank you for your amazing support! I finally have a moment free—time for the raffle!”

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Jiang Ji woke up instantly, eyes wide open.

It was his first time encountering a thief—strangely enough, he even felt a bit… excited?

He quickly thought about what in his home could be worth stealing.

They had earned quite a bit of money today selling seed crops—was the thief after their silver? Or maybe the cow? In these times, cattle were a valuable asset.

Aside from money and the cow, the only other thing of value might be Jiang Yan’s jade pendant.

Oh, no—there were also the rare sweet potatoes and potatoes of this world.

Could they be after the sweet potatoes?

There were indeed still a few sacks of sweet potatoes and potatoes in the main hall—extras he had exchanged just in case, which hadn’t been used. He had planned to save them for tomorrow’s seedling preparation.

Whatever the reason, first they had to catch the thief.

Jiang Ji patted Jiang Yan’s hand, signaling that he heard it too.

Jiang Yan removed his hand from Jiang Ji’s mouth and held up two fingers.

“Two people?” Jiang Ji whispered.

Jiang Yan nodded and slowly got out of bed.

Jiang Ji quietly followed, not daring to make a sound. He didn’t even put on shoes or a coat, afraid any noise might alert the intruders and scare them off.

The noise was coming from the main hall. The two crept through the darkness toward it, Jiang Ji grabbing a carrying pole leaning against the wall as they passed.

When they reached the hall, the sound was clearer now—the distinct scraping of a knife against the wooden latch.

In this era, doors were locked with wooden bars set across the back—two of them, one above and one below, crossing in opposite directions.

It was easy enough to open from the outside: just slide a thin blade through the crack and lift the latch bit by bit. Not secure at all.

They moved silently to the back of the door. Their eyes had adjusted to the dark; they could vaguely see shadows outside.

Jiang Yan pushed Jiang Ji to the left—Jiang Ji immediately understood. They split up, each taking one side of the door, ready to trap the thieves once they came in.

Jiang Yan also picked up an iron rod from behind the door.

They waited a moment. Finally, the thieves pried both latches loose.

The hall door creaked softly as it slowly opened, and one man slipped inside.

Jiang Ji gripped the pole tightly, eyes fixed on the shadow.

The man paused, then turned toward the right—the room where Zhao Ru and Xia’er slept, and where the money was kept.

The other man hadn’t entered; he was likely standing guard outside.

Jiang Ji didn’t wait any longer. He swung the pole with full force, striking the man hard and knocking him back two steps.

“Ah—!” The thief clearly hadn’t expected anyone to be waiting and let out a startled cry of pain.

Jiang Ji didn’t stop swinging and kept hitting him.

Meanwhile, Jiang Yan darted out the front door—the second thief was still outside.

That lookout, hearing his companion’s cries and the sound of blows landing, realized they’d been discovered. He turned and ran for his life, abandoning his partner.

But Jiang Yan was faster. Within a few strides, he caught up and swept the man’s legs out with the iron rod. The thief fell to the ground with a thud.

“Ah!”

He yelped, tried to scramble up, but Jiang Yan stepped on his back and pushed him flat again, then twisted his arms behind him and pinned him easily.

Inside, Jiang Ji had already beaten the other thief to the ground. When the man tried to flee, Jiang Ji blocked his way, forcing him down again until the thief curled up on the floor, covering his head. Only then did Jiang Ji kick him flat and hold him down.

The commotion woke Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia. From the sound of it, they knew for sure there were thieves.

Zhao Ru didn’t let Jiang Xia come out. She threw on a padded coat, grabbed the oil lamp, and stepped outside. Seeing Jiang Ji pinning someone, she called out, “Xiao Ji, are you all right?”

“Mother, I’m fine. This man came to steal. Go get some rope!”

“All right, all right.” Relieved he was unharmed, Zhao Ru hurried off to find rope. Jiang Xia, hearing things were under control, came running to help.

Jiang Yan dragged his captured thief back inside as well.

They tied up both men—hands and feet—and fastened each to opposite ends of a long bench.

With the thieves caught, Zhao Ru looked at the two young men, both still in their undershirts and barefoot, and quickly said, “Go put on your coats and shoes before you catch cold!”

It was indeed chilly. The two went to dress, returning moments later in padded jackets and shoes.

Jiang Ji pulled down the cloths covering the thieves’ faces. Both kept their heads lowered, refusing to look up.

Jiang Ji grabbed their chins and forced them to lift their heads. Two unfamiliar faces—young, maybe around twenty. The one he caught was short and broad-faced; the one Jiang Yan caught was thinner, with a sharp, monkey-like face.

“Mother, do you recognize them?”

Zhao Ru studied them closely, eyes narrowing at the thinner one—the lookout from outside. “This one looks familiar somehow…”

Jiang Ji glared at the man. “Hey, who are you? What’s your name? Which village are you from?”

The man’s lips stayed tightly shut, eyes darting nervously.

“Not talking, huh?” Jiang Ji pinched his jaw harder, but the man still didn’t speak.

“Got a tough mouth, huh.” Jiang Ji let him go and turned to the other one.

The broad-faced thief, still aching from the beating, clenched his teeth and said nothing either.

Jiang Ji frowned, but Jiang Yan patted his shoulder. “Let me.”

Jiang Ji stepped aside.

Jiang Yan crouched down, one hand on his knee, the other gripping the thief’s shoulder joint. Whatever technique he used, the thief suddenly screamed like a slaughtered pig.

“Aah! It hurts, it hurts!”

Jiang Yan looked him straight in the eye, his voice calm and cold. “If you want to keep that arm, you answer when I ask. Understand?”

Sweat poured down the man’s face. He couldn’t understand how this gentle-looking scholar could be so ruthless.

When the man hesitated, Jiang Yan twisted again, and the thief screamed in agony before nodding frantically. “I’ll talk! I’ll talk!”

The thin, sharp-faced one beside him glared furiously. “Shut up!”

Jiang Yan ignored him and asked the broad-faced one, “Your name. Which village?”

“W-Wang Daqiang, from Xiaokeng Village.”

Jiang Yan jerked his chin toward the other. “And him?”

“He—he’s Wang Xingye. We’re from the same village.”

“Who told you to steal from this house?”

Suddenly, Zhao Ru gasped and stared at the sharp-faced one. “Xiaokeng Village? Aren’t you the nephew of Li Lao’er’s wife’s family?”

The one called Wang Xingye pressed his lips together and said nothing.

Wang Daqiang, whose shoulder Jiang Yan was still gripping, yelped, “Yes, yes, that’s right! He’s Li Lao’er’s wife’s nephew from her mother’s side! His aunt split off from the family, and he came with his father today to visit her. When he heard your family made a lot of money selling sweet potatoes, he told me to come with him to steal it! He even wanted to take some sweet potatoes and those bean-things too! Stop pinching, brother, my bones are gonna snap!”

With that confession, Jiang Yan released him.

Watching the scene, Jiang Ji raised his eyebrows slightly.

The way Jiang Yan handled the man—expression calm, voice cold, hand twisting joints with ease—was just… incredibly impressive!

And somehow, it looked like he was experienced at interrogation?

Could twisting a shoulder joint really hurt that much? Was there some trick to it?

Jiang Ji’s thoughts began to drift.

“Why is it tied to that family again?!” Zhao Ru frowned in disgust. “Truly unlucky.”

Jiang Ji said, “Mother, Xia’er, go back to sleep. It’s still a while before dawn. Once the sun’s up, I’ll go find the village chief. We have to go to town anyway—I’ll hand them over to the authorities on the way.”

“All right. You two should rest a bit too.” Zhao Ru and Xia’er went back to their room.

When Wang Xingye heard Jiang Ji mention handing them over to the authorities, he panicked. “Wait! Don’t hand us over! I—I’ll compensate you with silver! Five taels! I’ll pay five taels!”

But Jiang Ji, a young master raised in a lawful society, was used to calling the police when trouble arose. There were no police here, but there were officials. He believed the county magistrate handled cases fairly.

He gave the man a cold look. “No.”

Wang Daqiang’s earlier screams had already woken some of the neighbors, and even set their dogs barking until they were hushed.

A few uncles, thinking something serious had happened, came running over.

“What’s going on? What happened?”

“Uncle, it’s fine—we caught two thieves,” Jiang Ji explained, stepping aside so they could see the bound men behind him.

“You’re all right? Nothing stolen?” Uncle Tu Gen and Aunt Xiufang came over as well, worried.

“No, they’d only just gotten inside when we heard them.”

Aunt Xiufang leaned closer. “Wait— isn’t that Li Lao’er’s wife’s relative? I saw him in the village just yesterday.”

Everyone gasped. “What? Li Lao’er’s wife’s family?”

“Yes, it’s him—I saw him yesterday afternoon too.”

“He actually came to our village to steal?”

“Someone go get the village chief!”

Jiang Ji quickly stopped one of the men. “Uncle, it’s the middle of the night—let’s wait until morning. Just be our witnesses for now.”

“Sure, sure, we’ll vouch for you.”

“Thank you, everyone. It’s still early—go get some more sleep. We’ll deal with this in the morning.”

“All right. Keep an eye on them, don’t let them escape.”

“Of course. No chance of that.”

The neighbors returned to their homes.

Jiang Ji bolted the door, stuffed rags into the thieves’ mouths, and motioned to Jiang Yan. “Come on, let’s get some more sleep.”

Jiang Yan tied another rope around the thieves’ ankles to make sure they couldn’t run, and only then did they wash their feet and head back to bed.

It was too late to heat water, so they used cold water instead. Jiang Ji shivered violently, his teeth chattering even under the quilt.

“You cold?” he asked through clenched teeth.

Jiang Yan lay there perfectly still. “Not really.”

“…You’re seriously not cold?” Jiang Ji reached out and touched his hand—it was actually warmer than his own. So he turned over, hugged Jiang Yan’s arm, and tucked his icy feet against Jiang Yan’s leg. “Freezing. Let me warm up a bit.”

Jiang Yan’s leg twitched from the shock of cold but he didn’t pull away.

“You looked really skilled when you were interrogating just now,” Jiang Ji said, still trembling. “Did it feel familiar to you?”

Jiang Yan thought for a moment. “No.”

“Then how did you know exactly where to pinch? That guy looked like he was dying.”

Jiang Yan looked puzzled too. “It was… just instinct. I felt that pressing there could dislocate the shoulder.”

Jiang Ji: …

He muttered, “Maybe you used to be some kind of torturer, the kind that dislocates arms for a living.”

Then he laughed at his own absurd thought.

Jiang Yan: …

Jiang Ji yawned. “You lost so much blood from that injury, but your body temperature’s still higher than mine. Makes no sense.”

He mumbled sleepily, still holding Jiang Yan’s arm, and soon drifted off.

In the darkness, Jiang Yan quietly clenched his fist. He could feel a current of energy inside him—he hadn’t noticed it while injured, but as he recovered, his body felt stronger and lighter.

Maybe it was that energy that kept him from feeling cold.

He thought, perhaps he used to know some martial arts.

The next morning, Jiang Ji went straight to the village chief’s house.

When the chief heard that Jiang Ji’s home had been broken into, he immediately asked, “Did you lose anything? Did you catch them?”

“Caught them. They’d just come in when we heard them—there were two.”

“Do you know them? Which village?”

“Xiaokeng Village,” Jiang Ji said. “They said one’s Li Lao’er’s wife’s nephew, the other’s from the same place. He came to our village with his father yesterday, saw we’d made a lot of silver selling seed crops, and decided to steal it—along with some sweet potatoes.”

“So it was him. I saw him and his father visiting Li Lao’er’s house just yesterday around noon. Didn’t think the brat would turn out to be such a petty thief, sneaking into our village like that.” The chief frowned and asked, “I’ll go talk to Li Lao’er’s wife later. What do you plan to do?”

Jiang Ji explained his purpose clearly. “Village Chief, I’d like to ask you to come with me later to escort the thieves to the authorities.”

The village chief was surprised. “You’re going to hand them over?”

“Yes,” Jiang Ji said firmly.

Whether to report such incidents or not usually depended on the victim’s decision. Since the thieves weren’t from their own village and Jiang Ji was determined, the village chief nodded. “All right. I’ll find two more men. After breakfast, we’ll go.”

After settling things with the chief, Jiang Ji went home.

The village chief washed his face, then headed to Li Lao’er’s house to inform his wife of what had happened.

Li Lao’er’s wife was stunned, completely refusing to believe it. “Impossible! My nephew’s always been well-behaved. He’d never do something so shameful!”

“Jiang Ji caught them red-handed,” the village chief said sharply. “You think it’s impossible? You’d better come identify him yourself. Then go tell his family—they’ll need to meet us at the county yamen later.”

“What, Jiang Ji’s really taking them to the authorities?” she cried, panicking. “Village Chief, he can’t! My nephew’s not married yet—if he’s sent to jail, no girl will ever want him!”

The village chief snorted. “With his character, what girl would marry him anyway? I’ve told you—handle it how you like.”

With that, the chief left.

They all lived within one courtyard, so when the chief spoke to Li Lao’er’s wife at the west room door, Jin Hua and Li Laoda’s family could hear everything.

Jin Hua spat on the ground. “I always said that brat wasn’t any good. Now look—turns out he’s a thief.”

“Shut your mouth!” Li Baoshan barked, striking his cane on the ground.

Jin Hua spat again in his direction and went into the kitchen.

Li Lao’er’s wife froze for a moment, then grabbed her husband and hurried toward Jiang Ji’s house.

Watching her run off, Li Laoda’s wife muttered, “It’s over. Completely over.”

Li Laoda frowned. “What’s over? It’s got nothing to do with us.”

“You pig-brained fool!” his wife snapped. “Jiang Ji already refused to sell us seed potatoes, and now your brother’s wife’s nephew went and robbed him! You think he’ll ever sell to us now?”

Li Laoda blinked, stunned, then said, “He wasn’t going to sell anyway. Even without this, he still wouldn’t. What’s the difference?”

Li Laoda’s wife: …

How had she ended up married to such an idiot?

Meanwhile, Li Lao’er’s wife and her husband rushed into Jiang Ji’s courtyard, where they saw the two tied-up thieves in the main hall—one of them unmistakably her nephew.

“Ye’er, you…”

She ran forward, yanked the rag from Wang Xingye’s mouth, and asked, “You really came here to steal?”

Wang Xingye tried to defend himself. “Aunt, I—I didn’t steal anything, I just—”

“Just what?” Jiang Ji, who had just walked in, said coldly. “Don’t tell me you broke into my house in the middle of the night and pried open my door just to have a chat?”

Seeing him, Wang Xingye immediately shut his mouth tight.

Li Lao’er’s wife realized from her nephew’s reaction that Jiang Ji was telling the truth. But since it was her own nephew, she couldn’t just stand by.

She turned to Jiang Ji. “Jiang Ji, he didn’t actually steal anything yet. Let him go. I’ll have my brother pay you compensation, all right?”

“No,” Jiang Ji refused flatly. “He committed a crime and will be sent to the authorities.”

He was very clear-minded about this. His family would only grow wealthier in the future—he couldn’t afford to show leniency.

If he settled privately now, people would think his family could be bullied. Others would keep trying, figuring that if they succeeded, they’d profit, and if caught, they could just pay their way out.

Jiang Ji wasn’t about to allow that. He had to make an example the very first time—to kill the chicken to scare the monkeys—so others would learn to fear the consequences.

“You can’t send him to the magistrate,” Li Lao’er’s wife pleaded, swallowing her pride. “Jiang Ji, he’s always been obedient. He just… made a mistake this time. It must have been that Wang Daqiang who led him astray. Please, forgive him—he’s still young…”

Wang Daqiang let out muffled protests through the rag in his mouth, clearly trying to object, though no one could understand him.

Jiang Ji pulled the rag out.

Wang Daqiang blurted out, “You’re lying! He’s the one who dragged me into this! Said this family was loaded!”

Li Lao’er’s wife snapped, “Shut your mouth! My Ye’er’s so timid he can’t even watch a chicken being slaughtered—how could he steal money? It was you who dragged him into this!”

“Bullshit!” Wang Daqiang shouted. “You don’t even know your own nephew’s true colors! Stop lying to yourself!”

“All right, enough,” Jiang Ji said, stuffing the rag back into Wang Daqiang’s mouth to silence him.

Li Lao’er’s wife kept pleading. “Jiang Ji, Ye’er’s still young—don’t report him…”

“Young? He’s older than me,” Jiang Ji said, half-laughing. “Stop begging. You’d better go find his father and tell him to come to the county office to collect him. Goodbye.”

He directly saw her out.

Left with no choice, Li Lao’er’s wife turned to her nephew. “Just wait, I’ll go get your father.”

Wang Xingye shouted after her, “Yes, yes, Aunt! Go get my dad! Tell him to bring plenty of silver to bail me out—mmph!”

Jiang Ji stuffed the rag back into his mouth. “Quiet. You’re too noisy.”

Li Lao’er’s wife left Jiang Ji’s home and said to her husband, “I have to go back to my mother’s house. You go on home.”

Then she hurried away.

Meanwhile, little Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei slept like pigs. They didn’t learn about the midnight burglary until morning.

When they passed through the main hall, they hugged the wall and scurried by, keeping as far away as possible.

Thieves. Bad people. Mother said—stay far away from them.

But curiosity got the better of them. The two little ones stood by the doorway, secretly peeking inside.

“If you want to look, then look openly. What’s with all this sneaking around?” Jiang Ji knocked each of them lightly on the head. “This is your own home. Nothing to be afraid of.”

Only then did the two step forward to stand beside him, clinging to his sleeve as they looked at the two bound thieves.

“Big brother, are you really taking them to the officials?” Jiang Nan asked, having overheard Jiang Ji’s talk with Li Lao’er’s wife. “Can I come too?”

“No. You’re going to school,” Jiang Ji said, giving his head another tap. “Don’t even think about skipping class.”

Jiang Nan rubbed his forehead and sighed. Ah… another boring day sitting in school, no excitement to watch.

After breakfast, Jiang Ji asked Aunt Xiufang to escort Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei to the school, while he, the village chief, and several uncles who had witnessed the event the night before took the two thieves to the county office.

Zhao Ru stayed home to look after the house, and Jiang Yan went with them—he was also bringing the silver they’d earned yesterday to exchange for silver notes.

On the way, Jiang Ji opened the livestream to check it—chat was buzzing.

【Holy crap, Jiang Ji! I didn’t expect to wake up and find this kind of drama at your place!】
【I opened the playback this morning—pitch dark! It looked like a horror movie!】
【Catching thieves is that intense? Are we gonna see the court trial live this time?】
【We’re going inside the county yamen, right?!】

Reading that, Jiang Ji suddenly had a flash of inspiration—and quickly changed the stream title:

— “Hurry! Live broadcast: Ancient County Trial! 10 Million Viewers Goal—Let’s Go!”

【Streamer, that title change was fast】
【Hahaha, let’s go! I’m sharing it everywhere!】
【Forwarded it—never seen an ancient magistrate trial before】
【Shared too! Gotta see this】
【Even my streamer friends are restreaming your live right now】

Jiang Ji glanced at the viewer count, fell a few steps behind the group, and whispered into the stream, “Listen up, folks—once we hit 10 million live viewers, the system unlocks the raffle function. Want ancient-world antiques? It’s up to you. Let’s go!”

【No way!】
【Wait—so the system can actually send the prizes to our world?!】
【Is that real?!】
【Brothers and sisters, push it! We’ll find out once it hits 10 million!】
【Go go go! I’ve shared this on every social app I have!】
【I want to see if it really sends antiques across worlds! LET’S GO!】

Seeing how excited everyone was about the raffle, Jiang Ji laughed and updated the title again:

— “Live! Ancient County Court Trial! 10 Million Concurrent Viewers = Raffle Unlock! GO!”

【Go!】
【GO GO GO!】

Ahead of him, Jiang Yan’s ear twitched slightly. He turned his head and looked back at Jiang Ji.

When their eyes met, Jiang Ji froze a little, then slowly walked up to him.

Jiang Yan looked down and said quietly, “Watch your step. Don’t trip.”

Jiang Ji had half-expected a question—but that was all Jiang Yan said. He studied Jiang Yan’s expression—it was calm, natural, unbothered.

Too natural, in fact—that was what made it strange.

Jiang Ji knew Jiang Yan’s hearing was sharper than most; he had definitely heard something. But he hadn’t asked.

Just like he hadn’t asked about the sudden appearance of all those sacks of sweet potatoes and potatoes.

Jiang Ji’s lips curved into a faint smile. “All right. Got it.”

He glanced at the stream chat:

【Jiang Yan’s so perceptive】
【He definitely suspects something, but he’s not saying it】
【That’s emotional intelligence】
【Smart, composed—he knows when to speak and when not to】
【God, he’s amazing. The way he interrogated Wang Daqiang last night—so calm but ruthless. Gave me chills. He’s definitely a capable man.】
【Bet he knows martial arts or something. No one’s that strong otherwise.】
【Tall, handsome, clever, and rich—perfect husband material.】

Jiang Ji couldn’t help the amused curve of his mouth. I agree with all of you, he thought.

【Girls, he’s got amnesia—what if he’s already married?】
【Jiang Ji said he looks about twenty-five or twenty-six. In ancient times, that’s rarely single.】
【Ugh, I was just gonna say, the streamer could totally go for him.】

Jiang Ji blinked in surprise.

【Why did the frame just turn rounder?】
【Looks like it widened and shrank back again】
【Hahaha, it’s just the streamer’s eyes going wide for a second—don’t mind it】
【Oh? Did he see something shocking?】
【Did he just get flustered because we called Jiang Yan tall, handsome, and hot?】
【Haha, stop teasing him! Pretty sure in that era, men with men wasn’t allowed, right?】

Jiang Ji rubbed his nose, thinking, Actually, it was.

There were poor men who couldn’t afford brides and would form “sworn partnerships”—two men living as a household for life.

It wasn’t common, but it existed.

And in history, there had been plenty of famous “cut sleeve” figures—some dynasties were even open about it.

Lost in thought while reading the comments, Jiang Ji didn’t watch his step and stumbled.

He was about to fall when an arm reached out, catching him and pulling him smoothly into a firm embrace.

“Careful.”

Startled, Jiang Ji gasped, and when he looked up, he found himself face-to-face with Jiang Yan’s handsome features.

A face like carved jade, eyes bright as stars, high-bridged nose and deep-set gaze—sharp, refined lines that caught the morning light.

He really was handsome.

“Watch where you’re walking. What are you thinking about?” Jiang Yan frowned slightly as he asked.

Jiang Ji stared at his face, blinked slowly, then looked away and stood upright. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking about what to say when we get to court. Let’s go.”

He took one step—and hissed in pain. He had just stubbed his big toe on a rock.

Jiang Yan looked down at his foot. “What happened? Did you twist your ankle?”

“Just hit my toe. Hurts a bit, but it’s fine. I’ll be okay in a moment. Let’s keep going.” Jiang Ji flexed his toe a little and continued walking forward.

Jiang Yan watched his back for a moment, then sighed softly and followed after him.

【Oho~】
【yo……】
【Jiang Yan really is handsome—handsomer than our male celebrities】
【I bet the streamer’s blushing; he couldn’t even look at him】
【With skin that dark, how can you tell if he’s blushing?】

Jiang Ji: …

You people are too much!

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Yan: …

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

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

Or did he really trust him that much?

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

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

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

“It’s fine, I’m almost healed.”

Jiang Yan went to fetch the water.

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

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

“Healed.”

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

“He’s gone to the fields.”

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

“He’s digging a pit.”

“?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm.”

“So all the seeds are here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who fetched the water?”

“Brother Jiang Yan did.”

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Yan shook his head.

Jiang Ji didn’t press further.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

“Yes.”

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei cheered happily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No idea. Whose family is she from?”

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

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

The parents in the back fell quiet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow, all the same size—looks great.”

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

“Let’s go ask.”

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

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

Hearing that, the villagers relaxed.

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

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

The crowd burst out laughing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Li Laoda’s wife hesitated, saying nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With that, Fen’er went into the courtyard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Didn’t want to.”

The two women looked at each other in silence.

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

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

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

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

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

Clatter—clatter—

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

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

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

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

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

“All right.”

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

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

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

They checked against the ledger—the numbers matched exactly.

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

“What?”

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

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

“Got it.”

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

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

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

Jiang Ji asked about their day at the school.

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

Jiang Ji: …

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Bei nodded earnestly beside him.

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

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

The three children nodded obediently.

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

Everyone turned to look at them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The whole family laughed.

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

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

Footsteps.

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

Someone?

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

His eyes flew open wide. There was a thief!

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s enough!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Li Baoshan said nothing.

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

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

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

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

The crowd chuckled at that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Yan shook his head.

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

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

Jiang Ji: “…”

Alright, double standards then—so what?

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

“Okay.”

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

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

Jiang Bei chimed in, “Me too!”

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

Jiang Ji: …

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

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

“Brother?” Jiang Nan urged again.

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

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

“No. Too many people. Stay put.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah—!”

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

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

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

The crowd gasped in shock.

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

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

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

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

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

Divorce… divorce her?

The word hit Jin Hua like lightning.

He wanted to cast her out?

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

It would be no different from a death sentence.

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

Jin Hua collapsed to the ground, wailing loudly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Li Baoshan didn’t dare argue.

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

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

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

Li Lao’er nodded as well.

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

Neither son said anything more.

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

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

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

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

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

Hearing it, Zhao Ru could only sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was Li Laoda and his wife.

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

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

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

She elbowed Li Laoda again. “Say something!”

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

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

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

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

“Mother, who is it?”

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

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

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

Li Laoda’s face darkened.

His wife went pale. “Xiao Ji…”

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

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

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

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

With that, he closed the gate.

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

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

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

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

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

Inside the courtyard, Zhao Ru sighed softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Much obliged.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you kindly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Liu Dalang nodded sullenly. “Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you know when he’ll be back?”

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

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

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

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

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

Wu Er shook his head. “I sell it.”

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

“Ten wen.”

“Where do you deliver it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep,” Jiang Ji confirmed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wu Er chuckled good-naturedly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Xia was also busy making clothes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Yan: ?

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyah!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Brother!” “Big Brother!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei followed along, watching eagerly.

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

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

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

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

Jiang Yan nodded and kept walking forward.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, definitely better not to mention that.

Otherwise, it could turn into a tragedy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Bei nodded again. “I do.”

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

Jiang Bei’s eyes lit up. “Okay!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You did,” Jiang Yan said.

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He could finally go to the academy too!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Ji refused without hesitation. “Nope.”

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

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

Jiang Yan: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t say today. I meant later.”

Jiang Nan: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Nan: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

It took them less than fifteen minutes to walk there.

Jiang Ji knocked on the teacher’s front gate.

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

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

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

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

Jiang Ji and his family bowed respectfully.

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

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

The teacher froze. “This little girl too?”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Yes.”

The teacher frowned slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thirteen,” Jiang Xia replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please do!” Hong Xiu said eagerly.

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

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

“Good,” Jiang Ji replied.

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

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

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

Jiang Ji nodded happily. “He did.”

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

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

Jiang Yan raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was… captivating.

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

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

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

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

“Sure,” Jiang Ji said at once.

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

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

Jiang Yan: …

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn, that’s incredible!”

“You’re a calligraphy master!”

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

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

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

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

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

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

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

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

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

It was the village head.

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

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

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

“That’s right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright.”

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

“Sure thing. You going now?”

“Yes. I want to start plowing tomorrow.”

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

Jiang Nan nodded obediently. “Okay.”

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

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

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

“Got it,” Jiang Yan said readily.

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

“Alright.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zhao Ru smiled. “Jiang Yan helped.”

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

Jiang Ji was speechless.

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

Jiang Yan: “…”

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

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

“It’s huge!”

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

“His ox is old. Ours looks younger.”

“Brother, how old is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Ji was surprised—this kid liked herding oxen?

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

And this child actually liked that?

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

“Okay!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Yan nodded. “Makes sense.”

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are those?” Jiang Nan asked curiously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s fine,” Jiang Yan nodded.

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

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

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

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

One by one, everyone took a piece.

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

The others nodded.

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

“This is delicious! So sweet!”

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

“It’s so good!”

“Sweet but light—not cloying at all.”

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

“So refreshing!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Ji had already discussed it with Zhao Ru earlier.

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

The village head and the others were stunned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Yan gazed at him quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stopped suddenly.

Jiang Yan asked, “What is it?”

“…Nothing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With that, he went outside.

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

“He went out to take care of something.”

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Yan: “?”

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

Jiang Yan: …

He looked at Jiang Ji’s silhouette, thoughtful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾