Author Archives: Thandar

Ch 17: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

The next day, Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia went to town to sell the clothes, and Jiang Ji went along. He planned to check the local prices for seeds, buy a book for Jiang Yan, and look for materials he could use to improve the latrine.

He really couldn’t stand that latrine anymore—but it wasn’t exactly proper for him to keep slipping off to the woods either.

Over the past two days, he had finished organizing the cultivation methods for most of the crops suited to this region. Through this process, he realized why ancient grain yields were so low: first, the seeds themselves were poor and had low germination rates; second, the planting techniques were unscientific; third, pest and disease control was lacking; and fourth, there simply wasn’t enough fertilizer.

Fertilizer was crucial. In this era without chemical fertilizers, all manure was an essential resource—the basic material for composting and enriching the fields.

As the saying went, “Don’t let good fertilizer flow into another’s fields.” Jiang Ji couldn’t let any potential fertilizer go to waste in the woods.

On the road, Zhao Ru was still nervously rehearsing how to negotiate the sale. She had never done anything like this before.

Jiang Ji reassured her, “It’s normal to be nervous, but you don’t need to be afraid. Think about it—we’re going to do business. You and the shopkeeper are equals, just like when you sell vegetables. Treat it that way and you’ll be fine. Or… should I go talk instead?”

Zhao Ru quickly shook her head. “No, no, this is women’s clothing. You’re a young unmarried man—it wouldn’t be proper. I’ll go myself.”

“Alright.”

Jiang Ji went over the talking points with her, and they rehearsed a few times, adjusting her phrasing and tone until it sounded more confident.

“Xiao Ji,” Zhao Ru asked, “how much should we sell each set for?”

Jiang Ji thought about it. “One tael of silver.”

Jiang Xia’s eyes widened. “That expensive? Will anyone buy it?”

“Let’s try,” Jiang Ji shrugged. “If no one bites, we can lower the price. Always leave room for haggling.”

When they reached the town, they split up.

“Mother, are you sure you don’t need me to go with you?”

“No need. You take care of your errands. If your sister and I can’t manage to sell them, then you can step in.”

“Alright.”

Zhao Ru handed him two taels of silver. Jiang Ji headed straight for the market to check the seed prices—he needed that information to set fair prices for the seeds he planned to sell later.

After walking around the market for a while, he recorded everything neatly in his notebook, then headed for the lumber, stone, and brick shops.

He wanted to build a simple flush-style toilet, but since there was no cement here, he considered making a trough from wood or stone instead. If he used wood, it would have to be coated with paint—otherwise, it would rot quickly.

He found a shop that sold paint and asked for the price, only to be stunned.

“What? Two taels of silver for such a small bottle?” Jiang Ji stared wide-eyed at the fist-sized jar. Was this daylight robbery?

“Heh, young man, you clearly don’t know the trade. That’s already the cheap kind. The one over there costs even more,” the shopkeeper replied with a grin.

“How much is that one?”

The shopkeeper raised a hand. “Five taels.”

Jiang Ji: “…”

He put the bottle back down and excused himself politely.

Paint was available in the system’s exchange store too—but it cost ten points.

With spring plowing just around the corner, Jiang Ji didn’t want to waste his points on things he could buy with silver. After all, points could easily be converted into money, but money could never buy points.

He wanted to save them for seeds or other items that this world didn’t have.

He checked two more shops—same prices. Paint here was practically worth its weight in gold.

So he went to the stone merchant. A stone trough wouldn’t need paint, at least.

But stone troughs were expensive too, and having a craftsman carve one to his specifications would take ages.

Feeling the few bits of silver in his sleeve, Jiang Ji thought for a moment, then walked off.

Everything was so expensive!

He hadn’t even started making money yet. Better to just chop down a tree and carve one himself for now. Once he was wealthier and living in a proper house, he could make a better one.

The once-spendthrift Young Master Jiang had now learned thrift.

When he went to buy a book, he happened to run into Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia at the east end of the main street.

“Mother, Xia’er, how did it go?”

Jiang Xia sighed. “We’ve already been to three clothing shops and three fabric stores. No one wanted to buy. They’re all afraid it won’t sell—didn’t even ask the price.”

She couldn’t understand why none of the shopkeepers were interested in such a good thing.

There were only five ready-made clothing shops in the whole town anyway; most people bought fabric to sew their own clothes. Even Zhao Ru herself had never set foot in a clothing shop before—only fabric stores.

Some fabric shops displayed sample garments, but selling cloth remained their main business.

Zhao Ru patted her daughter’s head gently. “It’s alright. There are two more shops left. We’ll keep trying.”

Jiang Ji added, “Right, don’t give up yet.”

He went with them to the fourth clothing shop, but just as he was about to step inside, Zhao Ru stopped him. “Xiao Ji, wait outside.”

After all, it was women’s undergarments—they couldn’t bring a man along.

“Alright.” Jiang Ji stayed outside to wait.

Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia entered. The shop was run by a woman, and even the attendants were all young women. Several female customers were browsing the racks.

Zhao Ru’s eyes brightened. The previous shops had all been run by men, and she’d felt awkward talking to them about such things.

“Please, have a look around,” one of the attendants greeted them with a warm smile. “We’ve just released some new designs—they’re quite lovely.”

Zhao Ru shook her head. “We’re here to speak with the shopkeeper about a business matter.”

The girl blinked, then led them to the counter. “Shopkeeper Sun, this madam would like to discuss a business deal with you.”

Shopkeeper Sun was a woman in her thirties, tallying accounts at the counter. Hearing that, she looked up, surprise flashing briefly across her face before she smiled politely. “Madam, what kind of business did you have in mind?”

Zhao Ru placed the bundle she carried on the counter, untied it, and took out a red undergarment set.

“Please, take a look.”

“This is…?” Shopkeeper Sun didn’t recognize it at first, but once Zhao Ru laid out the brassiere and panties properly, realization struck her.

Undergarments.

She looked up, astonished. “Madam, did you make these yourselves?”

“Yes,” Zhao Ru nodded. “Would you be willing to take them?”

Shopkeeper Sun examined the small garments closely. Even with her experience, a faint blush crept onto her cheeks. “How did you ever think of making something like this? It’s quite bold.”

“It just came to us,” Zhao Ru said vaguely. “So, will you buy them?”

Shopkeeper Sun hesitated. “Madam, I’ll be honest with you—please don’t take offense.”

“Go ahead.”

“They’re very nice, but… they’ll be hard to sell,” she explained. “Such intimate clothing isn’t something women buy in shops. We’ve even tried selling dudou before, but…”

She shook her head—failure.

Zhao Ru bit her lip, unwilling to give up. Since the shopkeeper was also a woman, she decided to take a chance. “Shopkeeper, I’m actually wearing one of the brassieres right now. How about I take off my coat and show you?”

Shopkeeper Sun, curious about how it looked when worn, agreed. “Alright, come with me.”

“Okay.” Zhao Ru turned to Jiang Xia. “Xia’er, wait here.”

Jiang Xia nodded, and Zhao Ru followed the shopkeeper into the back room.

Outside, Jiang Ji was looking at a small stall near the clothing shop—it sold hair ornaments. As he browsed, two women passed by talking quietly. One was dressed in elegant lake-green silk; the other was her plainly dressed matron.

“Madam, you’re too soft-hearted. That little vixen keeps taking advantage of you, bewitching the master till he’s lost his wits—he hardly remembers who you are.”

“What can I do? He only visits me once a month.”

“Ah, you stick too much to propriety, madam. This won’t do. The master’s here today, isn’t he? Say some sweet words—flatter him a little.”

“I’ve tried. He’s completely enchanted by that fox.”

Jiang Ji: …

Watching them enter the clothing shop, he leaned over and whispered a few words to Jiang Xia.

“Got it?”

Jiang Xia widened her eyes as she watched the two women who had just passed, then nodded firmly and turned back into the clothing shop. She walked straight over to the lady in the lake-green gown.

Taking a deep breath, she whispered, “Madam, I have… something you might need—something that can help you keep your husband’s heart firmly in your hands.”

The woman looked at the young girl in surprise, a hint of irritation flashing across her face. “You little thing, what nonsense are you talking about at your age?”

Jiang Xia ignored her tone, keeping her gaze steady. “It’s right here at the counter. It’s clothing. Come take a look and you’ll see.”

“Clothing?” The lady blinked, puzzled—she had thought the girl was trying to sell something improper.

“Yes, clothing.” Jiang Xia gestured for her to follow. “Please, this way.”

The lady exchanged a glance with her maidservant. The maid said quietly, “No harm in taking a look.”

The two walked to the counter. Jiang Xia untied the bundle and took out one of the small garments.

“This is clothing?” Both women stared at it in confusion.

Jiang Xia simply held up one of the bras and gestured over her chest. “A brassiere.”

The two women were stunned. It only took a moment for them to imagine how it would look when worn. The lady blinked, her cheeks reddening. “Little girl… you made this?”

“My mother and I made it,” Jiang Xia said.

Just then, Zhao Ru and Shopkeeper Sun came out from the back room. Jiang Xia pointed to Zhao Ru. “That’s my mother.”

Shopkeeper Sun noticed the lady in green and exclaimed, “Madam Qian! You’re here to browse?”

Madam Qian nodded, then discreetly picked up one of the brassieres and asked in a low voice, “Shopkeeper, is this something your store sells?”

Shopkeeper Sun glanced at Zhao Ru and gave her a quick wink before replying, “Yes, we just received these.”

Zhao Ru said nothing. Earlier, Shopkeeper Sun had seen the effect when Zhao Ru tried one on. Though she’d said the shop wouldn’t stock them, she personally wanted to buy a set and had asked the price. Zhao Ru had quoted one tael per set.

Shopkeeper Sun asked Madam Qian, “Is Madam interested in purchasing?”

Madam Qian exchanged another look with her maid. The maid gave a small nod. After a moment’s hesitation, Madam Qian bit her lip and decided.

“I’ll take it.”

Zhao Ru’s heart leapt with joy. Then Madam Qian asked, “How much for one set?”

Zhao Ru looked to Shopkeeper Sun—who calmly held up three fingers. “Three taels.”

Zhao Ru’s eyelid twitched, but she said nothing. She only felt Jiang Xia clutching at her sleeve, so she reached back to pat her hand reassuringly.

“I’ll take two sets,” Madam Qian said without hesitation, signaling her maid to pay. “Do you have any that will fit me?”

Shopkeeper Sun smiled. “You can try them on. We have different sizes and colors. Madam may go to the back room and see which suits best.”

“Then I shall.”

They went inside to try on the garments and returned a short while later. Madam Qian left the shop satisfied, carrying her new purchases.

Once she was gone, Shopkeeper Sun invited Zhao Ru to the back room.

She already knew a bit about Madam Qian’s family situation, and seeing how decisively she had bought the garments sparked an idea in her mind.

“Madam,” said Shopkeeper Sun, “I’ll buy the remaining six sets. Two taels per set. How does that sound?”

Zhao Ru blinked in surprise. She had only asked one tael before. “Shopkeeper, you…”

Shopkeeper Sun seemed to know what she meant. She patted Zhao Ru’s hand and said warmly, “Of course, I have a condition.”

“Please, speak.”

“From now on, any undergarments you make must be supplied exclusively to me,” she said briskly. “If you come up with new styles, even better. Oh, and if you can make a batch with silk, I’ll pay three taels a set. What do you think?”

Zhao Ru hesitated, a little worried. “You’re giving me that much—won’t you barely make a profit?”

Shopkeeper Sun laughed. “You’re an honest woman, so I’ll be honest too. Three taels is the top price here in this county. But our company has branches in the prefectural and provincial capitals. They’ll sell even better there, for much higher prices.”

Zhao Ru understood but still cautioned her, “Once word spreads, others will copy the design soon.”

Shopkeeper Sun chuckled. “That’s fine. We’ll make as much as we can before that happens. And we can always keep creating new designs.”

Once the market opened, competition and innovation would naturally follow.

Seeing the shopkeeper already had a plan in mind, Zhao Ru relaxed. “Then we’ll bring them over as soon as we finish another batch?”

“Yes. Start with the silk ones first.”

Zhao Ru nodded quickly. “Alright.”

“Then it’s settled,” said Shopkeeper Sun, pleased.

After settling the payment, Zhao Ru left the shop with Jiang Xia, happily clutching sixteen taels of silver.

Seeing the smiles on their faces, Jiang Ji knew at once that they had sold everything.

“Mother, how much did you make?”

“We sold it all—sixteen taels in total! And they’ll keep buying whatever we make next!” Jiang Xia said excitedly.

Jiang Ji blinked in surprise. That was double the price he had suggested to his mother!

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Ch 16: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

After breakfast, Zhao Ru took Jiang Xia to town to buy cloth. The two little troublemakers, Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei, clamored to go too, so she brought them along.

Before leaving, Zhao Ru didn’t forget to set the chicken soup to simmer on the stove and reminded Jiang Ji to keep an eye on the fire.

Once she was gone, Jiang Ji changed Jiang Yan’s dressing, watched him take his medicine and lie down to rest, then moved a small table to the stove. While watching over the soup, he claimed his rewards for the Basic Farming Skill and the Farm Tool Modification Skill.

The moment he accepted them, a flood of knowledge filled his mind—centuries of ancient agricultural experience from hardworking farmers, along with detailed understanding of tool-making and modification techniques.

“My goodness,” he murmured. “Worthy of being a system reward.”

He now clearly understood how to cultivate crops that didn’t yet exist in this era—sweet potatoes, potatoes, and corn. From seedling propagation to transplanting, fertilizing, and field management—everything was clear in his head.

The only thing he wasn’t certain about was this world’s exact climate.

Wait—hold on. Jiang Ji opened the system’s background interface and scrolled to the section about the world’s era and environment.

“I knew I saw it somewhere before.”

When the system first bound to him, it had loaded comprehensive information about this world—geography, climate, and all.

The Dasheng Empire had twenty-one provincial prefectures, each governing its own states and counties. Jiang Ji lived in Changping County of Yunzhou, located in the south-central region of Dasheng.

The area experienced four distinct seasons: hot, rainy summers with abundant sunlight, and dry winters. With warmth and rain coming together, the climate was quite favorable for crop growth.

The flood of data in his head was dizzying. Worried he might forget something later, Jiang Ji decided to write it all down one by one.

He didn’t know how to use a brush, and the vertical writing style of ancient notebooks looked inconvenient. So he exchanged for modern notebooks and a water-based pen, then began writing down detailed planting methods for various crops. That way, when he taught the villagers later, he could simply read straight from his notes.

He started with staple grains—most people here grew rice—so he first wrote out the methods for rice cultivation.

Next came the crops he planned to promote: sweet potatoes, potatoes, corn, and cotton.

During a short break, Jiang Ji asked curiously, “2977, why are the characters in this world the same as the ones from ancient times in my world?”

【This world is a minor branch of an alternate timeline parallel to your world’s ancient era. It shares the same origin, but its history developed much more slowly.】

“Oh, so you brought me here to develop agriculture?”

2977 said nothing.

“You’re feeling guilty, huh.”

【Beyond clearance. Cannot answer.】

“…”

Jiang Ji sighed and went back to writing. Time passed unknowingly until the light before him dimmed. When he looked up, he nearly jumped—the handsome face of Jiang Yan was right in front of him.

“You’re up?”

Jiang Yan didn’t answer the question. His gaze was fixed curiously on the pen in Jiang Ji’s hand. “What are you writing? Is that… a pen?”

“Yes, a pen.” The man walked lightly—no sound at all—so Jiang Ji exhaled slowly. “You gave me a scare.”

Jiang Yan sat beside him, eyes still fixed on the pen. “May I have a look?”

Jiang Ji hesitated a moment, then handed it over.

Jiang Yan examined it carefully. The shaft was made of some translucent material, the tip fine and firm—not bristles. He brushed it across his fingertip; the line it left was thin and neat.

“The tip is hard… how is this made? And where does the ink come from?” Jiang Yan asked, full of wonder.

Jiang Ji shook his head.

Jiang Yan then picked up the notebook. “Your notebook reads sideways? The paper’s smooth, the binding tight—no seams at all.”

Seeing his interest, Jiang Ji blinked, quickly made up a story, and said, “I bought it in town. They said it came from the southern region. I don’t know how it’s made either. I just thought the lines were smaller, and the pen was fine enough to fit more words, so I bought them—good value.”

“Oh.” Jiang Yan nodded and didn’t press further. Looking at the writing, he added, “Some of your characters… I can’t recognize.”

Glancing at the simplified script, Jiang Ji laughed awkwardly. “Ah, that. You know how it is—we were poor. My father only managed to send me to the village school for a few years, so I’ve forgotten a lot. If any of these are wrong, don’t laugh at me.”

“I won’t.” Jiang Yan looked at him seriously. “If you don’t mind, I can teach you.”

Jiang Ji paused, eyes curving with a smile. “Sure, I’d appreciate that.”

Jiang Yan studied the notes again, a little surprised. “You’re writing planting methods?”

“Yeah,” Jiang Ji said, deciding to mix truth with fiction. “The sweet potatoes and corn we ate this morning—I bought them from a southern merchant. They don’t exist around here yet. He told me how they’re grown, and I didn’t want to forget, so I wrote it all down.”

“That’s wise.” Jiang Yan nodded. “Memory isn’t always reliable. Better to record things—you can always look them up later.”

He sounded like a man who spoke from experience. Jiang Ji smiled. “Exactly—better a bad pen than a good memory.”

“Indeed.” Jiang Yan pointed to a line. “You meant to write ‘time’ here, didn’t you?”

“Right.”

Jiang Yan wanted to write something and held the pen like a calligraphy brush. Jiang Ji stopped him, fetched another pen and notebook from Zhao Ru’s room, and opened it to the first page. “Write here—horizontally.”

Since he was living in this era, Jiang Ji figured he might as well learn traditional script properly instead of explaining every time.

Jiang Yan held the black water pen like a brush and began writing carefully.

It looked awkward. Jiang Ji reached over, demonstrating. “Try holding it like this. The seller said this pen works best that way.”

Jiang Yan, humble and quick to learn, adjusted his grip. Though still a bit unnatural, his writing did improve.

The characters, however, looked less elegant than before.

Seeing the faint crease between his brows, Jiang Ji comforted him, “You’re not used to this pen yet. Totally normal. Your writing still looks way better than mine.”

The tension in Jiang Yan’s expression eased slightly.

Thinking he might be bored while recovering, Jiang Ji asked, “Would you like some writing tools? Maybe a book or two? I can bring some back from town.”

Jiang Yan’s eyes lit up. “If it’s not too much trouble, could you bring me a book?”

“Sure. What kind?”

“Anything. I don’t remember what I used to read. Whatever you pick is fine.”

“Alright.”

Jiang Yan corrected his “mistaken characters,” and Jiang Ji copied each word carefully in traditional form, one line per term.

Watching his quick strokes, Jiang Yan commented, “You seem very practiced with this pen.”

“Mm, it’s easy to get used to. You can practice with it too—it’s handier than a brush, I think.”

The two took turns teaching and learning, occasionally chatting about the planting notes. By the time they reviewed everything Jiang Ji had written, Jiang Yan already had a general grasp of the cultivation methods.

“Here you wrote that sweet potatoes and corn can be planted once the temperature rises around the time of the Rain Water solar term—that’s soon, isn’t it?” Jiang Yan asked, reading the notebook.

Jiang Ji nodded. “Yeah, very soon.”

Near noon, Zhao Ru and the others still hadn’t returned, so Jiang Ji decided to start cooking.

The small fire in the stove still simmered—the chicken soup Zhao Ru had left earlier filled the air with its rich aroma.

Jiang Ji set the pot aside, then, following the original owner’s memories, rinsed the rice, placed the small pot back on the stove, added wood to the fire, and began to cook.

He’d watched Jiang Xia and the others tend the stove for several days, and with the original host’s memories as reference, cooking rice was no longer a problem for him.

Just as the rice began to boil, Zhao Ru and the others returned—bringing back a fresh fish as well.

Once Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia came in, they put their things away and immediately took over the cooking.

Jiang Ji secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Cooking dishes still wasn’t his strength, though he did have a good palate. In his previous life, he’d often listened to the family’s chef and housekeeper talk about food; at least he could play the part of a “mouth-only” chef.

Since both he and Jiang Yan were still taking medicine and had to avoid strong flavors, Zhao Ru planned to steam the fish.

When Jiang Ji saw her preparing to throw the fish directly into the steamer without any seasoning, he remembered that her fish dishes always carried a strong muddy odor. He quickly exchanged for a piece of fresh ginger, a bottle of rice wine, and a bottle of soy-based fish sauce.

“Mother,” he said, “marinate it with ginger and wine first. Steam it only after the water boils. Once it’s done, pour out all the steaming liquid—it’s what makes the fish smell. Then sprinkle chopped scallions and ginger shreds on top, pour over this sauce, and finish with hot oil.”

Zhao Ru paused, then nodded. “Alright.”

After finishing the rest of the dishes, she followed his directions and steamed the fish.

When the family sat down to eat, everyone immediately noticed something different.

“Mother, the fish doesn’t smell fishy today!” Jiang Nan exclaimed, astonished.

During summer, Jiang Ji often took them to catch fish in the creek—a rare chance for them to have meat—but the cooked fish always tasted muddy.

Jiang Bei nodded. “It’s really good.”

Even Jiang Yan praised, “Very fresh.”

Zhao Ru herself was surprised. “I did it just as Xiao Ji said.”

Jiang Ji raised his brows with a grin. “You have to marinate the fish first to remove the odor. And the steaming liquid—that’s where the smell comes from. We never poured it out before, so it didn’t taste as good.”

“I see,” Zhao Ru said, nodding. “I’ll remember that.”

Jiang Yan glanced at Jiang Ji, puzzled. If he knew that all along, why hadn’t he told Zhao Ru sooner? Still, in his current state of amnesia, he couldn’t judge what was normal and what wasn’t, so he didn’t ask.

After lunch and cleaning up, Zhao Ru called Jiang Ji into her room. She took out the undergarments she had made the night before—the prototype meant for sale—and asked, “Xiao Ji, look at this. Is it right? I’m afraid I did it wrong.”

She’d made the set using leftover coarse cloth. Jiang Ji couldn’t tell if it looked right or not, so he checked the comments in his livestream chat and summarized what the female viewers suggested.

“The bottoms look fine,” he said. “But for daily wear, the hem of the top should have another layer—thicker, for support. The shoulder straps can be made of string, easier to adjust. Mainly, you and Jiang Xia should try them on, see what feels comfortable and looks good. That’s what matters most.”

Zhao Ru nodded thoughtfully. “Alright, I’ll adjust it.”

Jiang Ji went out while Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia stayed in the room, working together to refine the design. By evening, they had finished their first successful set.

Zhao Ru was delighted. She even tried on the brassiere herself.

Jiang Xia hadn’t developed yet, but Zhao Ru had already taught her some things in private. Watching her mother’s figure look more upright and shapely, she couldn’t help blushing.

“Mother, it looks really nice.”

Zhao Ru blushed as well, both surprised and pleased. “It does, doesn’t it? And it’s not as suffocating as the chest binding—it’s much more comfortable.”

In summer, when clothes were thin, women often bound their chests to avoid embarrassment. It was not only hot but also stifling.

“Mother, we should make more and sell them to the clothing shop! You can wear one yourself—people will definitely buy them!”

“Alright. I’ll make a slightly larger size to take and sell.”

Two days later, they successfully completed eight full sets.

The next morning, Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia set out for town to sell the clothes, and Jiang Ji went with them. He planned to check local seed prices, buy a book for Jiang Yan, and look for suitable materials to help him improve the household latrine.

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Ch 15: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

Note to Readers

Hi everyone! I’m posting this note because a few readers have been upset or confused about some of the links not working and the TOCs not being updated. We’ve been pre-scheduling chapters so that a new one can be released every day. Because of this, some next chapter button links might not work yet. They’re set up for upcoming chapters and will become active once those chapters are released at their scheduled time.

Since we handle translations alongside our regular jobs/schools, it sometimes takes a bit longer to update the main page or add next chapter links only when the chapter is actually released. Scheduling chapters in advance helps us save time and keep daily releases going smoothly.

If you’d prefer that we only update the TOC and links after each chapter is fully released, please let us know. That method would be more organized but would slow down new releases.

Thanks for understanding, and thank you for continuing to support us 😘

…

Morning light gently filtered in, and Jiang Ji’s well-trained body clock woke him right on time.

He opened his eyes—and the first thing he saw was a sharply defined chin, smooth lines, a prominent Adam’s apple… a little too alluring.

A man.

Wait—why was there a man in his bed?!

Who—

Jiang Ji jolted fully awake and looked up, recognizing the face. It was Jiang Yan.

Right. He was in ancient times now.

His shoulders slumped. He turned over and lay flat on his back, dazed for a long moment.

He’d just been dreaming—dreaming of hanging out freely with his friends and brothers. Now he woke up staring at a thatched roof. The contrast was… jarring.

Letting out a long sigh, Jiang Ji rubbed his face and opened his system livestream.

Manually starting it every morning was inconvenient. If he ever forgot, it’d cost him points—and viewership directly affected his score. Better to start early and earn early.

He adjusted the settings: it would now start automatically when he opened his eyes, and end one minute after he closed them. He could even pause it himself now. Much less awkward.

After finishing the setup, he sat up and began dressing.

“You’re getting up already?”

The voice came from behind him—Jiang Yan’s. Jiang Ji turned to see him half-awake, eyes hazy. He lowered his voice. “Yeah. It’s still early. You can sleep a bit more.”

Jiang Yan did plan to go back to sleep. He’d fallen asleep late last night, and Jiang Ji’s sudden awakening had startled him awake too.

After a pause, Jiang Yan asked, “Did you have a nightmare just now?”

“Not a nightmare—a beautiful dream,” Jiang Ji sighed. “Waking up was the nightmare.”

Jiang Yan looked puzzled. How could someone wake up from a good dream and sigh about it?

But since Jiang Ji didn’t explain, he let it go.

Jiang Ji got dressed, got off the bed, and went to check on Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei. As expected, the two little monkeys were sprawled sideways again. He straightened them out, pulled up their blankets, and quietly shut the door behind him.

In the kitchen, Zhao Ru was already up preparing breakfast.

“You’re up,” she said. “Wait till the water’s hot before washing your face.” She had rinsed the rice and set a small pot of porridge on the stove, with another big pot heating water beside it.

“Alright, I’ll fetch some water first.” Jiang Ji picked up the carrying pole and two wooden buckets and headed to the village well.

It was just dawn outside, the village still quiet except for a few crowing roosters and barking dogs. From some chimneys, faint wisps of smoke had begun to rise.

The air was chilly. Jiang Ji steadied one bucket’s rope with one hand while tucking the other into his sleeve for warmth.

If it were in his past life, he would never have believed he’d wake this early on purpose. Back then, he wouldn’t even think of sleeping before 1 or 2 a.m.—sometimes pulling all-nighters was just normal in college.

But now, at sunrise, he felt completely alert and refreshed—not sleepy at all.

There was only one well in the whole village, located near the center. Over eighty households depended on it for their daily water. Since most people went to the fields later in the morning, they usually fetched water either early or around noon.

That meant there was always a line.

As Jiang Ji walked toward the well, he greeted a few early risers also carrying buckets. They exchanged brief morning chatter as they queued up.

When he arrived, four people were already in line. He joined them with his buckets.

Seeing him, someone called out, “Hey, Jiang Ji, heard that man you rescued finally woke up?”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Yeah, he woke up yesterday.”

The village head happened to be there fetching water too. “Where’s he from?” he asked. “And how’d he get injured?”

In this era, any stranger arriving in a village—especially one with knife wounds—was bound to draw attention. The headman had to ask; no one wanted trouble brought to their doorstep.

Everyone had been curious these past few days, whispering all sorts of guesses. Jiang Ji knew that well. After a moment of thought, he replied, “He lost his memory. Doesn’t remember his name or where he’s from.”

“He lost his memory?”
“For real?”

Everyone turned to Jiang Ji in disbelief.

Jiang Ji nodded seriously. “Really. So he doesn’t even know how he got injured. I think he must’ve run into bandits. He looks like a young master from some wealthy family in town—someone must’ve seen him as an easy target and tried to rob him.”

With that, Jiang Ji provided an explanation for Jiang Yan’s injuries, steering everyone’s thoughts in that direction.

“Yeah, makes sense. Bandit attacks aren’t rare these days.”

“I heard just before New Year, a man from town got robbed on his way to his wife’s family. It was only in the next town over—they took all his money, nearly killed him too.”

“Seriously? Where’d that happen?”

“They say it was near Daling Mountain.”

“Oh no, that’s close to Skull Mountain! That’s where the bandits hide out. Who’d dare pass through there?”

“People get robbed there all the time. The officials can’t clear out that den—the bandits just come back after every raid. Sigh.”

“Exactly. It’s terrible.”

The group chatted animatedly. Jiang Ji listened, then asked, “Uncle Dafu, that man who got robbed on his way to his wife’s family—how old was he?”

Someone caught on. “Wait, could that be the guy you saved?”

Uncle Dafu shook his head. “No, no. That fella survived and reported it to the county. I heard he’s in his thirties. How old’s the one you rescued?”

In his thirties—and he went to report it? Then definitely not Jiang Yan. Jiang Ji felt relieved. “He’s probably in his twenties. Definitely not older than twenty-seven.”

“Then it’s not the same one.”

Someone else chimed in, “Hey, if you say he was robbed, how come I heard he gave your family silver? And didn’t he have a jade pendant too?”

Jiang Ji blinked, making up a story smoothly. “The robbers took all his silver. My mom found two silver notes sewn into his sock when she washed his clothes—small ones, total about sixty taels. Probably his family hid them there in case he was robbed. The jade pendant fell out from a hidden pocket in his torn clothing. I think when he noticed the bandits coming, he stuffed it in there to protect it.”

“I see.”

“Lucky man, to survive that.”

Jiang Ji nodded in agreement. “Yeah.”

The village head then asked, “Jiang Ji, did he have any special marks or features? Maybe we should report it to the authorities. They might help him find his family.”

“I’ll ask him later,” Jiang Ji replied. “He really can’t remember anything, so we’ve got no clues to offer.”

“If even he doesn’t know, that’ll be hard to trace.”

“His family must be worried sick.”

Seeing everyone nod along, Jiang Ji relaxed inside. No one suspected he was being hunted—everyone had bought the robbery story.

Since gossip was inevitable, the best way to control it was to create a version himself.

By tomorrow, he was sure the whole village would be saying the stranger Jiang Ji rescued had been attacked by bandits and lost his memory.

After fetching water, Jiang Ji went home and told Zhao Ru everything that had happened by the well so they could keep their story consistent.

He was just about to go for a second trip when 2977’s electronic voice chimed in.

[Total viewers have reached one million. Second batch of vegetables, fruits, and daily goods unlocked. Host awarded: Basic Farm Tool Modification Skill. Tipping item unlocked: Seeds. Host may now select crop seeds as viewer rewards.]

Huh?

Jiang Ji immediately stopped in his tracks and went back into the kitchen.

Since the second batch of goods was available, why not let his family try something new?

He exchanged for six sweet potatoes and six ears of corn. “Mom, we’re having something different for breakfast today.”

Zhao Ru looked at the strange items on the table, puzzled. “What are these?”

“This one’s called hongshu (sweet potato), and this one’s yumi (corn). They’re both edible.”

Zhao Ru’s eyes widened in amazement. “You can eat them?”

“Yep. The immortals brought them from another land,” Jiang Ji said, invoking the “immortal” explanation—which always worked.

Zhao Ru brightened immediately. “How do you cook them?”

“The sweet potatoes just need washing to remove dirt. The corn—you peel off the husk and silk, then steam both till they’re soft.”

“How long does that take?”

“Uh, maybe about two quarters of an hour?” Jiang Ji guessed. He’d never actually cooked them himself. “You can test if they’re done by poking the sweet potato with chopsticks. If it slides in easily, it’s ready.”

“Got it.”

Zhao Ru deftly started peeling husks while Jiang Ji headed back out to fetch more water.

By the time he returned with the water barrels filled, the others were waking up. Jiang Yan also stepped out of his room, wearing a clean blue robe Jiang Ji had lent him. The plain cloth looked refined on him, his tall figure straight and elegant—like a scholar.

“You’re up already? Careful not to strain your wound.”

Jiang Yan nodded. “Where’s the latrine?”

“You’re actually going?”

“Please, show me the way.”

“I’ll take you.” Jiang Ji walked beside him. “Need me to help you?”

“No need.” Jiang Yan pressed a hand to his abdomen to protect the wound, moving slowly.

Jiang Ji glanced at him—his expression gave nothing away. “Does it still hurt?”

“Much better now.”

Jiang Ji led him out of the courtyard and around to the outhouse on the right. “Careful. So—number one or number two?”

Jiang Yan paused slightly. “Number two.”

“Number two and you didn’t bring paper? Hold on, I’ll get some.”

Jiang Ji ran back inside, opened a drawer in the main room, and grabbed a handful of paper before returning to hand it over. “Here. I’ll wait outside.”

After a while, Jiang Yan came out, frowning slightly.

Even from a distance, Jiang Ji could see the deep furrow between Jiang Yan’s brows—tight enough to crush a fly. He’d taken knife wounds without so much as flinching, yet now his face was all but twisted up.

Jiang Ji nearly burst out laughing. When Jiang Yan came closer, he asked, “Need a chamber pot?”

“No.” Jiang Yan’s tone was clipped.

“Alright then.” Jiang Ji remembered what he’d heard that morning. “Oh right—about that bandit hideout. It’s called Skull Mountain.”

He told Jiang Yan everything he’d learned and went over the cover story with him so they were consistent.

Jiang Yan nodded, then asked, “Has the government not tried to wipe out those bandits?”

“I heard the local officials can’t do anything about them. The county office is useless—they just hide whenever soldiers show up, then come right back once they’re gone. Unless the imperial army gets involved, no one can get rid of them for good.”

“You think I was injured by them?”

“Not necessarily.”

They chatted a bit longer, then went home. After washing their hands, Jiang Yan took out his toothbrush and cloth towel to wash up as well.

Jiang Ji fetched him water. “I could’ve brought some to your room, you know.”

“No need. I can move around now.”

Jiang Ji let him be.

At breakfast, Jiang Yan didn’t return to his room but joined everyone instead. “I owe you and your family much, Auntie,” he said politely to Zhao Ru. “I can move about now, so I’d like to eat with you all.”

“No need for formalities. Feeling better?” Zhao Ru asked with a smile.

“Much better. Thank you, Auntie.”

“The wound will heal in time. Don’t rush it,” she said kindly.

“Yes.”

Breakfast began. Zhao Ru brought out the steamed sweet potatoes and corn, while Jiang Xia ladled out bowls of wild-greens and lean-meat porridge.

“Jiang Yan, take the taller stool,” Jiang Ji said, pulling over the sturdiest one. “Careful now.”

“Alright.” Jiang Yan sat down.

The family gathered around the table. Everyone eyed the unfamiliar sweet potatoes and corn curiously—the faintly sweet aroma was something they’d never smelled before.

“Big Brother, what’s this? It smells kind of sweet,” Jiang Nan asked. He knew it had to be something magical his brother “summoned,” but he’d never seen it before.

Jiang Bei and Jiang Xia also turned toward Jiang Ji, eager for an answer.

“The red one’s called hongshu—sweet potato. The yellow one’s yumi—corn,” Jiang Ji explained. He broke one in half to show them how to eat it. “You can eat the skin too, but it doesn’t taste great. Just peel it like this and eat the inside. As for the corn, you just bite the kernels off—don’t chew the cob. Try it, see what you think.”

The sweet potatoes and corn had been cooling for a bit—perfect to eat now. Everyone picked one and began to taste.

Jiang Nan was the quickest; he’d grabbed a cob of corn, took one bite—and his eyes lit up. “It’s sweet!”

Jiang Bei had chosen a sweet potato. He peeled it and took a bite—soft, fragrant, and sticky-sweet. It melted the moment it touched his tongue.

“This one’s sweet too—so good!” He turned to share with his brother. “Jiang Nan, try this one—it’s amazing!”

“This one’s better.” Jiang Nan held out his corn to Jiang Bei’s mouth. “Taste it.”

Jiang Bei swallowed his bite of sweet potato and bit into the corn. “That’s good too, but not as good as the sweet potato. Here—take mine.”

Jiang Nan bit into the sweet potato Jiang Bei offered, and his eyes went wide again. “Why’s this so delicious?!”

Everyone else laughed at the two little boys.

Zhao Ru tried one herself. Sweet, soft, and comforting—she loved it instantly. “Xiao Ji, can we plant these?”

“We can,” Jiang Ji nodded. “I just wanted you to try them first. There’s another one called the tudou—potato. These three crops fill you up easily, store well through winter, and are simple to grow. Potatoes can even be planted in cold weather. I plan to have the whole village grow them.”

Zhao Ru’s eyes brightened. “They can be stored for winter? That’s wonderful.”

Three new crops—edible, storable, reliable. That meant people could finally eat through the cold months without starving.

As they ate, the family chattered about the flavor and how they might plant them. Jiang Yan stayed quiet, just observing.

Something puzzled him: Jiang Nan, Jiang Bei, and even Zhao Ru clearly had never seen these foods before—so why wasn’t anyone asking Jiang Ji where they came from?

Was he the only one curious?

Or… had he forgotten something because of his memory loss?

That thought unsettled him.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Ch 14: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

For dinner, Zhao Ru stewed half a chicken with codonopsis and red dates. She had specifically gone to the village doctor’s house to ask about the right ingredients—to help Jiang Yan replenish his blood and energy.

After bringing the soup to a boil, she let it simmer over a low flame for an hour. The rich aroma of chicken broth filled the kitchen.

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei squatted near the stove, sniffing every few seconds.

It smelled heavenly.

Zhao Ru also made wild-onion omelets and stir-fried cabbage greens.

She ladled most of the chicken, red dates, and codonopsis into a large bowl and brought it to Jiang Yan. “Eat it all. You can eat the red dates and codonopsis too—they’ll help you recover your strength.”

Jiang Yan looked at the enormous bowl. “Auntie, this is too much.”

“It’s not too much. You need to build your strength. Eat it all—and drink the soup too. Xiao Ji, make sure he finishes it.”

“Got it,” Jiang Ji said brightly.

Once Zhao Ru left, Jiang Ji placed rice and vegetables in front of him. “Come on, eat up—get your strength back.”

Jiang Yan looked across the table and noticed that Jiang Ji’s bowl had only an omelet and some cabbage—no chicken or soup. After a pause, he asked, “Did your mother give all the chicken to me?”

“Most of it,” Jiang Ji admitted. “You’re the one who’s hurt, after all.”

Jiang Yan pushed the big bowl of chicken and broth toward him. “You eat too. I can’t finish all this.”

“No thanks. There’s codonopsis in there—I don’t like it. You handle it,” Jiang Ji said with a grin. “It’s my mom’s good will. You’d better finish every bit.”

Jiang Yan picked up a piece of the yellow root-like herb, examined it briefly, then ate it.

“How’s it taste?” Jiang Ji asked.

Jiang Yan chewed thoughtfully. “A little sweet—not bad.”

Jiang Ji gave him a thumbs-up. He himself didn’t even want to smell anything medicinal these days.

Jiang Yan then said, “Why don’t you take half the meat to give Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei, in exchange for that omelet?”

Jiang Ji shook his head. “There are wild onions in the omelet. You shouldn’t eat that—it’ll slow your wound healing. Besides, you already had eggs this morning and at lunch. Too many will be hard to digest.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Seeing that he was about to argue, Jiang Ji quickly cut him off. “Don’t overthink it. You’re a grown man—you can handle the whole bowl. Eat up.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

He quietly picked up his chopsticks and started eating.

Under the warm, dim lamplight, the sharp lines of Jiang Yan’s face softened. His eating movements were unhurried and graceful—calm, elegant, almost mesmerizing.

What a sight, Jiang Ji thought, lips curving up slightly. Somehow, even the food tasted better.

They’d already shared a few meals together, even had a real conversation once—it all felt more natural now, more familiar.

After dinner, Jiang Ji rested a bit before changing Jiang Yan’s dressing. He had asked his viewers to help find the surgeon from previous time to check the wound’s healing progress.

【The recovery looks good. No reinfection. Avoid contact with water and spicy or irritating foods for now.】

Jiang Ji stepped outside the room to ask quietly, “Doctor, can he get out of bed tomorrow?”

【Yes, but avoid sudden movements. He should still rest as much as possible to prevent the wound from reopening.】

“Got it. Thank you, doctor.”

Back inside, before Jiang Ji could share the good news, Jiang Yan asked curiously, “Who were you talking to just now?”

“Huh?” Jiang Ji blinked.

“You heard me?” He was surprised—he’d gone all the way to the front hall and spoken softly, yet Jiang Yan had still heard?

“Yes. I didn’t catch what you said, though. Did someone come over?” Jiang Yan frowned. “I didn’t hear any footsteps.”

“You’ve got sharp ears, huh?” Jiang Ji said.

“You weren’t that far away,” Jiang Yan replied evenly.

“I was talking to myself.” Jiang Ji shrugged and went back to rewrapping the bandage. “You should be able to get out of bed tomorrow, but unless necessary, stay lying down and rest.”

Hearing that, Jiang Yan’s lips curved faintly. “Then I can finally use the latrine myself.”

“Better not.”

Jiang Yan: “?”

“The latrine’s too filthy,” Jiang Ji explained. “Too many bacteria.”

“Bac… teria?” Jiang Yan frowned slightly—he didn’t always understand Jiang Ji’s strange words.

“It means there are dirty things in places like that—things that could make your wound infected again.” Jiang Ji used words he would understand. “Until your wound’s fully healed, use the chamber pot for urination. As for, uh, the other one—I can get you a portable toilet.”

Jiang Yan: “…I can go to the latrine myself.”

“Suit yourself,” Jiang Ji said. Personally, he didn’t want to go anywhere near that latrine. “By the way, it’s been several days—you haven’t had a bowel movement yet.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

“Don’t be embarrassed. If you’re constipated, I can ask the doctor for medicine. Holding it in is bad for your health,” Jiang Ji added seriously. “That’s what the doctor said.”

Jiang Yan opened his mouth, hesitated, and finally said, “Are you always this… blunt?”

Jiang Ji suddenly laughed. “You must’ve been a scholar before—you talk so properly.”

Jiang Yan said nothing, so Jiang Ji continued, “I’ve always been straightforward. But I’m serious—you know, I’m basically your doctor now. Doctors are supposed to care about every part of a patient’s health.”

After finishing the bandaging, Jiang Ji packed up. “Alright, rest well. I need to talk to my mother about something.”

Zhao Ru had just finished bathing Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei. The two little rascals ran around with wet hair until she called them back to sit by the stove to dry it.

Jiang Ji helped pour out the bathwater, and then the family gathered around the fire.

“Mom, I need to tell you something.”

“Go ahead.” Zhao Ru figured it must be about the immortals—he’d mentioned it earlier when it got dark.

“The thing I gave you,” Jiang Ji said, “it works even better if used with special underpants. It’ll be more convenient. You’re good with sewing—I’ll draw it out for you so you can make it.”

“Alright, draw it.” Zhao Ru kept drying the boys’ hair while watching him.

That sanitary thing really was amazing, and hearing that there were matching underpants made her curious. The current menstrual belt was indeed a bit small and short.

Since there was no paper or ink at home, Jiang Ji took a stick and drew on the ground.

He read the female viewers’ comments—since fabrics in this era weren’t elastic, they’d need to tie the underwear with strings.

Following his understanding and their suggestions, Jiang Ji drew a pair of briefs connected by two strings.

When he finished, even his ears turned red. Why does this look so much like lingerie?

“Something like this,” he muttered, “you can adjust the size yourself—I’m not exactly an expert.”

Jiang Xia leaned over curiously. “What’s that?”

“Underpants,” Jiang Ji said. “You wear them close to your body.”

Zhao Ru studied the drawing, piecing it together with her earlier experience, and immediately understood. It solved exactly what she had been wondering about earlier.

Her eyes lit up. “I see. I’ll try making it.”

“The fabric needs to be soft and breathable,” Jiang Ji reminded her. “Buy some from town tomorrow. Oh, and there’s also something called a brassiere. It looks like this.”

The female viewers enthusiastically shared tips and even uploaded reference pictures. They suggested that since back clasps were hard to make, front ties or buttons would work better, and even mentioned adding soft padding.

“It’s better to use strings—it’s more flexible,” Jiang Ji explained, following their advice.

When Zhao Ru saw his drawing, she understood instantly. This type of brassiere would be perfect for summer—light, breathable, and it spared women from the discomfort of binding their chests.

“This too came from the immortals?”

“Yes.” Jiang Ji scratched his head, his face burning.

Jiang Xia understood as well, her cheeks pink, but she was excited. “Mom, if we make these, we could sell them in town!”

Jiang Ji reminded her, “You could, but it’s not very technical. Others might copy the design quickly.”

“Oh… you’re right,” Jiang Xia said, a little disappointed that it might not earn money.

Zhao Ru smiled, patting her head. “Silly girl, this kind of clothing is made at home. No one would buy it outside.”

Jiang Ji froze for a moment before realizing she was right.

In this conservative era, intimate garments weren’t sold openly, nor even talked about. Even saying “dudou” (chest wrap) aloud could get someone scolded for impropriety.

Still, that didn’t mean they couldn’t earn something—maybe from being the first to introduce it or selling the design.

Even if they made no profit, spreading it would still help countless women.

Jiang Ji comforted them. “It’s fine—we can give it a try. If no one buys it, you can wear it yourselves. We’ll think of other ways to make money.”

Zhao Ru then said thoughtfully, “Xiao Ji, what about that thing you gave me earlier—can we make that too?”

Jiang Ji wasn’t too sure about the sanitary pads, so he checked the audience comments. “We can’t make the exact same thing. A simpler version would need cotton and waterproof fabric—it’d be expensive, and ordinary people couldn’t afford it. The profit would be tiny.”

Cotton hadn’t yet been widely cultivated—it was rare and costly.

“What a pity. It’s such a good thing,” Zhao Ru sighed, wishing every woman could use one.

Seeing her disappointment, Jiang Ji said, “But the immortals gave me high-yield cotton seeds. We can sell those and let people start planting them. In a few years, once cotton becomes common and cheaper, we can try making these products again.”

“High-yield seeds?” Jiang Xia said excitedly. “Then let’s plant all the land at the foot of the mountain with cotton—we can make a lot of money!”

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei had been listening, not understanding most of it, but the word “cotton” caught their attention. Jiang Bei asked, “Then we’ll have new winter clothes by New Year?”

Because cotton was expensive, ordinary farmers could only grow enough for one or two padded garments a year. Some even sold their cotton for grain instead. Most people wore padding made from kapok, willow fluff, reeds, or animal fur—or just thick hemp cloth.

Jiang Ji’s coat was an old one left by their father, and Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei’s were refitted from his older ones.

“If the cotton harvest is good this year,” Zhao Ru promised with a smile, “I’ll make you both new padded coats.”

After chatting for a while, Jiang Ji went to bathe, while Zhao Ru took out her sewing basket and began experimenting with making the underwear and bra.

Once he finished washing, Jiang Ji took Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei to bed.

With the new beds and blankets, the two little ones were thrilled—they rolled around giggling before finally settling down.

Each took a side of the bed. As Jiang Ji tucked them in and turned to leave, Jiang Bei asked curiously, “Brother, aren’t you sleeping yet?”

“I am,” Jiang Ji replied. “I’m sleeping with Jiang Yan.”

Jiang Bei poked his head out from under the blanket. “You’re not sleeping with us anymore?”

“There are two beds now. No way I’m sleeping with you two again—you sleep like you’re boxing. I keep getting kicked awake.”

Jiang Nan huffed. “I never kicked you. I don’t even remember doing that.”

Jiang Bei murmured, “Me neither.”

“You two sleep like little pigs—how would you know?” Jiang Ji said, tucking in their blankets. “Keep yourselves covered, don’t kick the quilt off tonight.”

“Okay.”

Jiang Ji walked over to the other bed and looked at Jiang Yan. “We’re sleeping here.”

“Alright.” Jiang Yan was still awake; he’d heard their conversation and couldn’t exactly refuse.

He started to move inward, but Jiang Ji stopped him. “Don’t move. I’ll take the inside.”

He took off his outer robe, climbed into bed, and leaned over Jiang Yan to blow out the oil lamp on the table.

The bed was about a meter and a half wide, but with two grown men, they couldn’t help brushing against each other.

Jiang Ji glanced at the streaming comments floating in his vision, posted a short notice to end the broadcast, and closed it.

He now had the right to open and close his livestream freely—saving himself from a lot of awkward moments.

“What are you doing?” Jiang Yan asked quietly, watching him gesture at thin air.

“Nothing,” Jiang Ji replied, turning toward him. “You’re still awake?”

“Slept too much during the day.”

“Not used to sharing a bed with me, huh?” Jiang Ji asked outright.

Jiang Yan: …

Truthfully, Jiang Ji wasn’t used to it either. But after a few days in this world, he had gradually adapted.

After all, working hard all day left him exhausted—by the time night came, he fell asleep the moment he lay down. No time to think about anything else.

He figured Jiang Yan was just unaccustomed to company, and maybe too well-rested from the day to fall asleep easily, making him more aware of someone beside him.

Jiang Ji smiled faintly. “You’ll get used to it. Don’t worry, I sleep very quietly. Won’t bother you.”

He wasn’t lying—he didn’t thrash in his sleep. But he did curl up, hook an arm around whoever was next to him, and nuzzle his head into their chest.

Jiang Yan felt the soft, warm weight of a head nestling against his neck, the man’s breath brushing against his skin, tickling faintly.

He shifted slightly, but Jiang Ji soon rolled right back against him.

Jiang Yan gave up moving—any farther and he’d fall off the bed.

With a quiet sigh, he stared up at the pitch-dark ceiling for a long time before finally drifting off to sleep.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Ch 13: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

After lunch, Jiang Ji rested for a bit, then went out with Zhao Ru, pulling the handcart together.

They walked to the main road but didn’t go farther—instead, they turned onto a small path and exchanged another bed and quilt from the system.

Though Zhao Ru looked delicate, she was used to farm work and had plenty of strength. Together, they lifted the bed onto the cart, tied it down securely, and pulled it back home.

Once the new bed was set up, Jiang Ji took the borrowed door panel and bedding back to Aunt Xiufang’s house.

When he returned, he went to the kitchen to wash his hands and saw Zhao Ru squatting by the stove with her back to him, doing something he couldn’t quite see.

Curious, he walked over—only to find she was stuffing plant ash into a long narrow cloth bag.

“Mom, what are you doing with that ash?”

Startled, Zhao Ru jumped. She hadn’t expected him back so soon. In a hurry, she stuffed the cloth strip into her clothes. “N-nothing! You’re back already?”

Her guilty reaction was too obvious. Jiang Ji blinked in surprise but didn’t press. “Ah, I’m just washing my hands.”

He carried the water out to wash up, rubbing his hands as he thought to himself, Is she hiding something from me?

Just as he finished, intending to ask, Zhao Ru hurried into her room—and closed the door.

Jiang Ji was baffled. Once all the chores were done, he figured he could relax for a bit. He opened the livestream—but was instantly thrown off by the barrage of comments.

【Women in ancient times really had it hard】
【I can’t even imagine living like that—using ash, no way】
【That’s just how it was. No supplies, and even when they were sick, they couldn’t tell anyone】

“What are you all talking about?” Jiang Ji asked, confused.

【You’re finally reading the chat! Go exchange some sanitary pads for your mom】
【Your mom’s on her period—don’t let her use ash like that!】

“Sanitary… pads?” Jiang Ji froze. “What’s that got to do with ash?”

【Oh, you clueless child… In ancient times there were no pads! Women had to use plant ash stuffed into cloth as menstrual pads—the thing you just saw her making!】
【Yeah, back then, if you couldn’t afford fabric, you’d use ash as a pad.】
【Hurry up and use the system to exchange some for her!】

Jiang Ji stood there, stunned.

Ash? They used ash as sanitary pads?

That was filthy—and horribly unhygienic! Wouldn’t that cause infections?

But the system’s second batch of daily goods hadn’t been unlocked yet. He immediately called out, “2977, I need to exchange for some sanitary pads!”

The electronic voice responded: 【Sanitary pads are considered a post-era item and are not yet available for exchange. To unlock them, the host must complete a system task.】

“What task?”

【The host must personally till the plot of land beside the house.】

The plot next to their house was divided into two small sections—one with leeks, the other, which used to have cabbage, was empty after the last harvest, waiting for spring planting.

“Fine, just till the land. I’ll do it.”

Recalling how the original owner had done it, Jiang Ji grabbed a shovel and headed out.

Just as he reached the door, he ran into Zhao Ru. Seeing the shovel, she asked, “Xiaoji, where are you off to?”

“I’m going to turn the soil by the house. Let it dry a few days, then it’ll be ready for planting.”

Looking at his mother, Jiang Ji felt a pang of sympathy.

Women in ancient times really had it rough.

“Oh, alright. I’ll go buy a chicken.”

“Mm.”

Jiang Ji stepped out with his shovel. Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei were at the gate playing with a few village kids.

“Brother, where are you going?” Jiang Bei ran up to ask.

“Going to till the field. You two keep playing. Where’s Xia?”

“Second Sister went digging for wild onions after you got back. She said she’s making onion omelets tonight. Look—over there.”

Jiang Ji followed the direction of his finger and saw Jiang Xia’s figure in the distance.

The weather had been warming lately, spring growth everywhere—wild onions and greens sprouting fast. Many women were out in the fields digging them up.

“Oh, got it. You two remember to check on Jiang Yan later. See if he wants water or needs help with the chamber pot, alright?”

“Got it, Brother.”

Jiang Ji walked to the field. The leek patch, freshly weeded and watered that morning by Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia, was thriving—taller than a few days ago.

Next to it was the empty patch, about fifteen or sixteen meters long and one and a half meters wide.

Jiang Ji began turning the soil just like the original owner used to—pressing his foot on the shovel, pushing down, levering the handle, and flipping the soil over.

“2977 told me to finish tilling this plot,” Jiang Ji said to the livestream audience. “Heh, I thought it’d be tough—but it’s actually pretty easy.”

【You’re getting cocky now】
【Looks easy enough】
【Yeah, it’s just manual labor】

It was manual labor—no technique needed, but tiring all the same.

After about three meters, Jiang Ji stopped to catch his breath, leaning on the shovel. Sweat beaded on his forehead; he was already getting tired.

【Tired already?】
【Seems simple enough, huh】
【Come on, you got this!】

“You guys are all talk,” Jiang Ji grumbled. “It’s simple, sure—but it’s still exhausting! I’m human, not a machine.”

After a short rest, he got back to work.

“Farm work really is just pure muscle,” he said, chatting as he dug. “This is why I don’t want to be a farmer—bent over dirt all day, breaking your back.”

【Then what do you want to do?】
【Start a business maybe—anything’s better than farming】
【Problem is, what can you even do?】

“Ah, brother, you’ve hit me right where it hurts,” Jiang Ji admitted honestly. “I don’t really have any particular skills… but I can make money.”

【How are you going to make money?】

【Are you going to sell the goods you exchange from the system?】

“No, not exactly. The modern items I can exchange—I’ll study those later. Right now, the most urgent thing is spring plowing. You know, the crops here are incredibly limited, and the yields are pitifully low. There are so many things they don’t even have yet.”

Over the past few days, Jiang Ji had been thinking about this.

When he exchanged vegetables from the system, he noticed that this world had very few kinds of vegetables available in winter—only radishes, cabbage, leeks, carrots, celery, winter amaranth, and winter melon preserved from summer.

And it wasn’t just in winter—there were many missing crops in other seasons too.

From the original body’s memories, he knew that people here mostly lived on rice, millet, broomcorn, and wheat. The staple grains varied slightly between north and south, but either way, the yield was terribly low. A single mu of paddy field produced only about two to three hundred jin of rice, and wheat wasn’t much better.

After paying the imperial tax, there was hardly anything left. They still had to keep some grain for planting, and the remaining one or two hundred jin wasn’t nearly enough to feed a family.

For most farmers, surviving the winter was a struggle. Every year, many people starved to death.

And crops like sweet potatoes, corn, and potatoes—those lifesaving staples from the modern world—didn’t exist here at all. The original body had never even heard of them.

If he could introduce crops like sweet potatoes—easy to grow, long-lasting, and filling—it could easily save half the population from starvation.

The farmers here lived such bitter, grinding lives that Jiang Ji couldn’t bear to just watch.

He had already made up his mind. Spring planting was about to start, and he would spread these valuable staple crops far and wide.

He shared his plan with his livestream audience. “When the time comes, I’ll use my points to exchange for modern seeds. I can sell them, promote new crop varieties, and earn some startup money—all at once. Two birds with one stone.”

【That’s a surprisingly noble goal】
【Agriculture was so primitive back then—it’s good that you want to help them】
【But if you sell modern seeds, you’ll have to teach people how to plant them. Otherwise, they won’t know what to do. What, are they supposed to figure it out themselves?】

Jiang Ji flipped another patch of soil and said confidently, “That’s not a problem. Remember that farming skill I haven’t claimed yet?”

【I think that’s only a basic skill, though】
【Are you sure basic farming skills include how to grow modern crops?】

“That skill is basically a summary of ancient agricultural techniques from my previous world,” Jiang Ji explained. “Sweet potatoes and other crops existed in ancient China. Plus, there’s an intermediate farming skill too. 2977 said the intermediate level is equivalent to modern agricultural knowledge.”

He opened the system interface. “Intermediate Farming Skill—unlocks when daily viewer count reaches five million.”

【Whoa, five million in one day!】
【That’s a steep requirement】

“Come on, brothers and sisters, I’m counting on you!” Jiang Ji grinned. “I believe in you all!”

Just then, Jiang Xia came back with a half basket of wild onions. Seeing him still digging, she said, “Brother, take a rest if you’re tired. I’ll help in a bit.”

Jiang Ji quickly waved her off—he had to finish this plot alone for the system task.

“Hey, Xia’er, don’t bother. It’s almost done. I can handle it.”

“There’s still half left!”

“I’ll finish soon. Go help Mom with dinner instead.”

“Alright.”

【Such a considerate little sister】
【She’s been working nonstop this whole time】

Jiang Ji sighed. “Yeah, Xia’er’s a good kid. The original me was the same—always working. That’s why he got so tanned.”

He added, “Our family only had one mu of dry land and two mu of rice fields. The paddies have already been fully cultivated—no more to expand. So during the off-season, the original me went to reclaim wasteland at the mountain’s base. He already cleared three mu of new land.”

“But that wasteland’s still rough. The weeds grow like crazy. You pull them one day, and after one rain, they’re back. Even if the whole family works from dawn to dusk, the yield barely amounts to anything.”

He sighed again. “Life was really tough.”

【That’s how land reclamation works—it takes years for the soil to become fertile】
【Poor kid, really had a hard life】

Jiang Ji chatted with the audience as he worked, pausing now and then to rest. By the time the sun set, he finally finished the whole plot.

Excited, he ran home, washed his hands thoroughly, and pulled Zhao Ru into her room, closing the door behind them.

Seeing his secretive expression, Zhao Ru asked, “What’s going on?”

“Just wait a sec, Mom.” Jiang Ji opened the system interface and clicked “Claim Reward.”

In the next instant, three packages of sanitary pads appeared on the old dressing table.

“What’s this?” Zhao Ru asked curiously, picking one up and examining it, having no idea what it was for.

It was Jiang Ji’s first time holding sanitary pads too, and his face turned a little red. Still, he took a look—there seemed to be different kinds in each pack.

He read the instructions carefully and finally understood how they worked.

But another problem came to mind: ancient undergarments weren’t like modern ones. How was she supposed to attach it?

He turned to the livestream. “Hey, any ladies here? They don’t have underwear in this era—just long pants. How’s she supposed to use these? Should I exchange for some underwear too? But modern clothes aren’t unlocked yet.”

【You don’t need modern underwear】
【She can stick it onto her old menstrual cloth belt】
【Or you could just teach her to sew something similar to modern underwear】

“Ah? I see,” Jiang Ji said, scratching his head. “Got it.”

Zhao Ru looked at him in confusion. “Who are you talking to?”

“The immortals,” Jiang Ji said quickly. He took out one of the sanitary pads—his face a little hot, but his tone serious. “Mom, this is called a sanitary pad. It’s something you use during your monthly period. Please don’t use that plant ash anymore—it’s unsanitary and could make you sick.”

Zhao Ru’s face turned bright red. “You child, how do you even know about that?”

She hurriedly took the pad from his hands. “Don’t touch these things!”

Jiang Ji was a bit bewildered, but he pressed on earnestly. “Mom, the immortals told me to show you how to use it first.”

“Th-the immortals told me to use it?” Hearing that it was the immortals’ instruction, Zhao Ru hesitated slightly.

“Yes. The immortals said it’s made of cotton—it’s comfortable and hygienic.” Jiang Ji opened one of the sanitary pads. “Look, Mom, this is how you use it.”

His ears were burning red as he demonstrated the process step by step. “These two packs are for daytime use, and this longer one is for nighttime. You have to change them often. Once you’ve used one, throw it away—don’t reuse it. U-understood?”

“…Understood.” Hearing her son explain women’s matters like this, Zhao Ru felt awkward and embarrassed too.

After thinking for a moment, Jiang Ji added, “After dinner, I’ll show you how to make the undergarment part. That’ll make it easier to use.”

When he finished speaking, he quickly left the room.

Zhao Ru looked down at the thing in her hands—soft, thin, snow-white, and spotless. Even the paper backing was made of a material she had never seen before.

She took out a clean menstrual cloth belt and curiously tried using it as he’d shown.

An hour later, she quietly went back to check—no leaks, no stains.

She was astonished.

So this was truly a gift from the immortals—what an incredible invention!

If only we could make something like this ourselves…

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Ch 12: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru came home one after the other. With their debts repaid and the household gradually improving, Zhao Ru visibly grew lighter and happier by the day.

Jiang Nan was tending the stove, stirring a pot while holding a skewer of candied haws in his free hand, licking the glossy sugar layer in tiny bites and smacking his lips in satisfaction.

Jiang Xia was at the kitchen doorway, washing carrots. Jiang Bei crouched beside her, holding a skewer in each hand—eating from the one in his left while occasionally feeding Jiang Xia a bite from the one in his right.

Like his brother, Jiang Bei had barely eaten a single hawthorn; he was too busy savoring the sweet coating.

“Second Sister, the candied haws are so sweet! They’re so good!”

“Mm.” Back when their father was still alive, their family life hadn’t been so hard, and Jiang Xia had tasted candied haws before. She bit into one whole, eyes squinting in pleasure, and added, “It’s a little sour inside.”

It was Jiang Bei’s first time eating them, and he widened his eyes. “It’s sour inside?”

“Mm-hmm, a little,” Jiang Xia said. “You have to eat it together—the sweet and the sour. If you lick off all the sugar first, it’ll just be sour later.”

She herself used to do that—lick the sugar clean and abandon the rest because it was too sour. Their mother would always finish the leftovers.

“Ah?” Jiang Bei hesitated, frowning a little. “Then I’ll eat it all together.”

He bit into it and found that, sure enough, the mix of sweet and tart was just right. He turned to his brother and passed on the wisdom. “Jiang Nan, Second Sister says you have to eat it all together.”

Watching the scene, Jiang Ji couldn’t help feeling a little moved.

Making money really does buy happiness—now they even have candy freedom.

He took a skewer for himself. After days of bitter medicine dulling his taste buds, the sugary glaze and sharp tang of hawthorn hit his tongue, flooding his mouth with that sweet-and-sour spark that made him crave more.

Not bad at all. He rubbed the bump on his head—it had already gone down by half. Two more days and it’d be gone completely.

“Jiang Bei, did you give Jiang Yan his candied haws?”

Jiang Bei nodded obediently. “I did, but he said he didn’t want it.”

“Oh? Did anything happen with him this morning?”

“No, I went in to check on him. He didn’t need anything. I brought him water, but he didn’t drink it.”

Jiang Ji raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t ask you for the chamber pot either?”

Jiang Bei shook his head. “Nope.”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. Could it be he’s avoiding drinking water so he doesn’t have to get up to pee?

He’d had porridge and water with his medicine in the morning, but that couldn’t last all day…

Finishing off the candied haws in a few bites, Jiang Ji went to check on him.

The door was closed. Jiang Ji quietly opened it and stepped inside. The moment he did, Jiang Yan—who had appeared to be resting with his eyes closed—snapped them open instantly.

So alert?

Seeing that he was awake, Jiang Ji walked to the bedside and asked bluntly, “Jiang Bei said you didn’t call anyone all morning. Need to relieve yourself?”

Jiang Yan froze, his expression turning a little awkward. “How did you know…”

“No need to be embarrassed,” Jiang Ji said matter-of-factly. “Holding it in is bad for your kidneys—and it’ll mess with your rest.”

Jiang Yan fell silent.

Jiang Ji went out, brought back the chamber pot, handed it over, then stepped out again.

A while later, he returned, emptied it, rinsed it clean, and set it at the foot of the bed. “Here—let’s just keep it here by your bed. You can reach for it whenever you need. Sound good?”

Jiang Yan nodded. “That’s fine.”

Jiang Ji eyed him, then glanced at the pot, guessing from the weight earlier, and asked suspiciously, “Don’t tell me… you were waiting for me to come back before you went?”

Jiang Yan lowered his eyes without speaking.

That silence was as good as an admission.

Jiang Ji couldn’t help laughing softly. Still, he could understand—this man barely knew anyone here. He probably felt too awkward to ask the two little boys for help, and there was no way he’d let Zhao Ru fetch the chamber pot for him. So, he had just waited until Jiang Ji came back, holding it in until he couldn’t anymore.

A man who didn’t like troubling others—and one with a strong sense of pride.

“What if I hadn’t come back all day? Would you have held it the whole time?”

Jiang Yan paused. His fair, handsome face reddened slightly, but he still looked up and met Jiang Ji’s eyes. “You said you’d be back by noon.”

“And what if something came up and I was delayed?”

Jiang Yan said nothing.

Jiang Ji chuckled to himself, then continued, “No need to be so formal. Feel free to ask Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei for help—they won’t mind. It’s only for a couple more days anyway.”

“When can I get out of bed?” Jiang Yan asked.

“That depends on how your wounds heal. Maybe another day or two,” Jiang Ji said. Though I should probably check with the doctor, he thought.

“How long until I’m fully healed?”

“Maybe a week or two… seven to fifteen days, give or take. Depends on how your body recovers. Don’t rush it—rest well, and you’ll get better faster.”

Before long, Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia had finished cooking lunch—stir-fried carrots with pork, cabbage, and a wild greens soup.

Even though they now had silver and Jiang Ji’s “treasure” could produce goods, Zhao Ru still lived frugally. But she made a special steamed egg dish just for the injured man.

Jiang Ji wiped down a square table from the main room and moved it beside Jiang Yan’s bed—it would make eating and changing his dressings much easier.

Zhao Ru brought over the dishes, set them down, and said apologetically, “It’s just a simple meal for now. I’ll go buy a chicken this afternoon and make some soup to nourish you.”

Jiang Yan quickly replied, “This is already very good, Auntie. No need to trouble yourself.”

“The doctor said you lost a lot of blood—you need to build your strength.” Zhao Ru looked at his pale face, already planning to add red dates to the soup. “Go ahead and eat. I’ll leave you be.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

When Zhao Ru left, Jiang Ji looked at the man eating alone and suddenly remembered his own past life. After his mother’s death, his father rarely came home, and he had eaten most of his meals by himself. No matter how good the food was, it always felt tasteless—and lonely.

He raised a brow. “Want some company while you eat?”

Jiang Yan picked up his chopsticks, glanced at him, and said, “As you wish.”

Smiling, Jiang Ji went to the kitchen, filled a bowl with food, and sat across from him.

In front of Jiang Yan were five small bowls—carrot pork stir-fry, cabbage, steamed egg, wild vegetable soup, and a bowl of white rice.

Jiang Ji had only a larger bowl with the carrot pork and cabbage.

Jiang Yan pushed the bowl of steamed egg toward him. “You have some too.”

Jiang Ji blinked, then smiled. “You eat it. My mom made that especially for you—to help you recover.”

“Tell her she doesn’t need to make extra for me,” Jiang Yan said. “I can eat the same as you all.”

Jiang Ji wasn’t one to hide his thoughts. He preferred things out in the open.

“Just eat it,” he said with a sigh, his expression sincere. “My mom feels bad for taking so much silver from you. If you don’t eat it, she’ll feel guilty. So do us both a favor and eat, alright?”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment before Jiang Yan lowered his eyes and nodded. “Alright.”

They ate quietly for a while before Jiang Ji suddenly said, “I went into town this morning and walked around a bit.”

Jiang Yan looked up, waiting for him to continue.

“I didn’t see any missing-person notices posted anywhere,” Jiang Ji said, watching his face. “No one was out on the streets asking around, and the county office was quiet too.”

Jiang Yan froze. “You mean…?”

“I mean,” Jiang Ji continued thoughtfully, “you probably aren’t from around here.”

Jiang Yan stared at him, surprised that Jiang Ji had not only gone into town but had also thought to check if anyone was looking for him.

Swallowing a mouthful of rice, Jiang Ji went on, “You’re covered in wounds. I don’t know if bandits did it or if it was personal enemies, so I didn’t dare ask directly. Didn’t want to accidentally draw attention to you.”

Jiang Yan fell silent for a moment, understanding what he meant. It was very likely he’d been attacked by enemies—after all, his jade pendant and silver notes were still on him. If it had been bandits, they would’ve taken everything.

He looked up and asked quietly, “Aren’t you afraid? If I really was being hunted by enemies, and they found me here…”

Jiang Ji tilted his head, thinking it over, then nodded honestly. “Well, a little. But still—how could I just leave someone to die? Besides, it’s been two or three days now, and no strangers have shown up in the village. So maybe it wasn’t enemies. Maybe you escaped from a robbery and made it here.”

Jiang Yan’s eyes softened slightly. His voice was low. “Thank you.”

“No need for that,” Jiang Ji replied. Then he leaned forward a bit, lowering his voice. “You know, I think you might’ve come from pretty far away.”

Jiang Yan’s gaze deepened. “What makes you say that?”

“Well,” Jiang Ji said, “we’re close to town—only half an hour’s walk. The county office is right there. Bandits wouldn’t dare set up camp nearby; that’d be suicide. The nearest bandit den I’ve heard of is at least a hundred li away.”

That did make sense. Jiang Yan asked, “What’s that place called—about a hundred li away?” Maybe it was somewhere he had once passed through or where he’d been injured.

Jiang Ji searched his inherited memories. “I think it’s called Gulu Ridge… or maybe Hulu Ridge? I heard about it when I worked in town before, can’t remember exactly. If you want, I can ask around next time.”

“Alright. Thank you,” Jiang Yan said, sincerely this time.

After lunch, Jiang Ji cleared the dishes and left the room.

Jiang Yan leaned back against the headboard and took out the green jade pendant from under his pillow. The carving depicted clouds, cranes, and a boat drifting on a lake.

He stared at it for a long time. His mind was blank—no memories surfaced, nothing came to him at all.

He sighed, put the jade pendant back under his pillow, and lay down to rest with his eyes closed.

From what he had seen, Jiang Ji’s family seemed to be honest and kind people. Until his body recovered, he could only stay here for now.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Ch 11: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

After breakfast, Jiang Ji disinfected Jiang Yan’s wounds.

Jiang Yan watched as Jiang Ji first carried in a small table, then lugged over a large box—metal-like but smoother than iron. From it, he took out several unfamiliar objects.

“What are those?” Jiang Yan asked.

“Oh, medicine, bandages, that kind of thing. All for treating wounds. The doctor left them,” Jiang Ji said casually. Anyway, the man had lost his memory—he wouldn’t know the difference.

Jiang Yan studied the items for a while. Jiang Ji pressed on a small bottle, and a clear white liquid came out. He rubbed it between his hands.

“I’ve never seen things like these before.”

Jiang Ji glanced at him and replied matter-of-factly, “Well, you’ve lost your memory. Of course you haven’t.”

Jiang Yan: …

He went quiet, watching as Jiang Ji put on a pair of unusual gloves, rubbed his hands again, and began unwrapping the bandages.

When the wound was revealed, Jiang Yan finally realized that Jiang Ji hadn’t exaggerated—the injury on his abdomen was truly serious.

It was long, at least four or five inches, and had been sewn shut with thread. The stitches looked like a centipede crawling across his skin—harsh and shocking.

He stared at the stitching in disbelief. Could wounds really be sewn together like fabric?

The doctor had told Jiang Ji to monitor for any oozing. Jiang Ji leaned closer to check; there was no blood, only a bit of clear fluid. He wasn’t sure if that was normal or not.

He peeked at the live chat—some viewers said it was normal—so he disinfected the wound twice with iodine, applied ointment, and rebandaged it carefully with fresh gauze.

Jiang Yan had several other wounds, and Jiang Ji tended to each one in turn—cleaning, disinfecting, medicating, and rewrapping them.

“Alright, looks good. You’re healing. Try not to move too much,” Jiang Ji said, pulling off his gloves.

He called Jiang Bei to bring a bowl of warm water, then sorted out the medicines into a small box and handed them to Jiang Yan.

“Here, take your medicine. Just swallow them—don’t chew.”

Jiang Yan looked at the pills for a long time before pouring them all into his mouth and swallowing them with water.

Jiang Ji packed the medical box and set it on a stool in the corner.

“Okay, I’m heading to town for a bit. If you need water or, uh, the chamber pot, call Jiang Nan or Jiang Bei. They’ll be home with my mother. I’ll be back before noon.”

“Alright.” After Jiang Ji left, Jiang Yan’s eyes lingered on the medical box for a long while.

Jiang Ji, meanwhile, finished giving instructions to Zhao Ru and the others before setting out.

He planned to exchange the banknotes for silver first. Once he returned near the village, he’d “manifest” the beds from the system and haul them home.

As he walked, he chatted with his livestream audience.

These past few days, everyone’s attention had been focused on the wounded man. The viewers had followed anxiously, worrying whether Jiang Yan would survive.

Yesterday, with the online doctor’s step-by-step guidance, Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru had successfully treated the wounds, and now that Jiang Yan was awake this morning, everyone finally relaxed.

The whole event had sent Jiang Ji’s viewership skyrocketing—his follower count had passed five or six hundred thousand.

He checked—yesterday’s stream replay had already surpassed a million views.

Unfortunately, replay views didn’t count toward his live stats; only live viewers did.

“Hey, old irons, did someone recommend me somewhere? There’s a lot of people online this morning.”

Even at this early hour, nearly a hundred thousand people were watching.

【Bro, you’ve gone viral】

“What do you mean?”

【A big account on Weibo clipped one of your streams and reposted it. He’s got tons of followers, and your content’s so hardcore—it blew up.】

【You were even trending last night, though a bit lower on the list.】

“Oh, so you guys have Weibo too? I was wondering why the numbers jumped so much this morning. Turns out that’s why. Tell that big account I’m grateful, yeah?”

【He’s probably still asleep. He’s a night owl—usually posts videos in the middle of the night.】

Just then, a cascade of flying instant noodle effects drifted across the screen, fluttering down like little wings.

【That’s him—the one sending noodles! That’s the big account from yesterday.】

Jiang Ji saw the username “Iron Mouth Sees the World” and said, “Thanks for the noodles, Iron Mouth Sees the World! You’re awesome! I heard you helped promote me yesterday—really appreciate it!”

He clasped his hands in a polite salute. “Last time I passed through town, I didn’t get to show you guys around. Since I’m heading there today anyway, I’ll take you on a little tour.”

【Been waiting for that!】

Jiang Ji’s home was on the western edge of town. As he entered through the west gate, he narrated to his audience.

“This town is the biggest in the county. The county yamen is located here… Want to see it? Sure, we’ll swing by later.”

It was only his second visit—his first had been rushed. Even though he had the original host’s memories, nothing beat seeing it with his own eyes.

“Most of the people entering from the west are farmers. The grain market, vegetable stalls, and livestock trading area are all over here. When we sell vegetables, this is usually where we come.”

Jiang Ji led the livestream audience through the market. The place bustled with activity—vegetable stalls, poultry and fish stands, grain shops, wine vendors—all filled with noise and shouting.

Leaving the market, he turned two corners and arrived at North Street.

“There’s a river up north,” he explained to his viewers. “The dock’s over that way. The prefectural city to the east is very prosperous, so a lot of merchants transport goods from there to the northern regions. That’s why most of the big shops are on North and East Street.”

He walked from North Street to East Street, both sides lined with teahouses, cloth shops, jewelry stores, and restaurants. Many people were strolling about—it was lively and crowded.

Every now and then, Jiang Ji stepped into a shop to look around, checking out the styles of goods and learning local prices.

【So this really is ancient times—look at that fabric, it’s all rough weave and simple patterns】
【Those accessories look so old-fashioned—mostly gold, silver, and bronze, even some made of wood】
【Why do the gold pieces look so dull?】
【That’s because ancient refining techniques weren’t advanced. The purity was lower, so the color wasn’t as bright.】

After browsing for a while, Jiang Ji brought the audience to the county yamen.

The tall gate bore the sign “Changping County Office.” Beside it stood a large drum and two stone lions. Two constables guarded the entrance.

“Can only look from outside,” Jiang Ji said.

【So simple-looking!】
【I wish we could go in.】
【So this is what it looked like…】

After touring the yamen, Jiang Ji found a money exchange shop and traded the banknotes for silver and copper coins.

“Alright, everyone, time’s up. I’ve got to head home. We’ll come sightseeing again next time.”

On his way back, he spotted a candied haw vendor. He bought six skewers—one for each family member—but after walking a few steps, he turned back and bought over a dozen more.

When he reached the path leading toward his village, Jiang Ji slipped into a small side road. Once he was sure no one was around, he quickly redeemed a handcart, a sack of rice, a bundle of rope, and two cotton quilts from the system.

He originally planned to bring just one bed back first and the second one later in the afternoon.

But he’d overlooked one crucial problem: the solid wood bed was extremely heavy. There was no way he could lift it onto the cart alone.

Jiang Ji stood there dumbfounded. “…Well, that’s a problem.”

【Hahahahaha I can’t—】
【Streamer, what are you doing—】
【Pfft hahaha】

“Quit laughing and help me think of something!” Jiang Ji said, flustered.

【There’s a way, actually】

“Come on, bro, tell me!”

【Take it apart and reassemble it later】

Jiang Ji groaned. “Big brother, you think I know how to assemble furniture?”

【Hahahahahaha】

【Then wait for someone to pass by and ask them to help you lift it】

Left with no choice, Jiang Ji tried to move it bit by bit while keeping an eye out for passersby.

After a long while, an elderly man came down the road carrying baskets on a shoulder pole.

“Uncle, could you lend me a hand?” Jiang Ji called out.

The old man spotted the bed and asked, puzzled, “Hey, how’d this happen? Did it fall off?”

Playing along, Jiang Ji replied, “Yeah, the rope wasn’t tied tight enough, and it slipped off. It’s too heavy for me to lift alone.”

“Alright, I’ll help you.”

The old man was kind-hearted. Together, they hoisted the bed onto the cart, then helped load the rice and quilts, tying everything securely.

“Thank you so much, Uncle—you’re really kind.” Jiang Ji pulled two candied haws from his paper bag. “Here, take these home for the kids.”

“Oh, no need, no need. It was nothing,” the old man said, waving it off.

“Please, Uncle, take them. I insist.” Jiang Ji pushed the treats into his hands.

“Well then, thank you,” the man said at last, accepting them.

“No, I should be the one thanking you.”

After saying goodbye, Jiang Ji pushed the cart home.

At the entrance to the village, a few villagers spotted him.

“Hey, Jiang Ji, went to buy a bed?” an auntie asked.

“Yeah, Auntie.”

“Nice one! How much did it cost?”

Having just checked prices earlier that morning, Jiang Ji answered smoothly, “Seven hundred wen a bed.”

Another aunt added, “That’s fine craftsmanship! Why didn’t you have the shop deliver it? Must’ve been hard dragging it back yourself.”

“They charge an extra twenty wen for delivery,” Jiang Ji said. “Figured I’d just haul it myself.”

“Those merchants are so greedy. There’s a carpenter in Wangjia Village about ten li from here—he makes solid beds for only six hundred wen, and he delivers for free. My family’s bed’s from him, good quality too. Next time, go there—you’ll save a lot.”

“Really? Only six hundred? Then I’ll go to him next time,” Jiang Ji replied with a grin.

As he walked farther away, he could still hear the two aunties chatting behind him.

“Since when can Jiang Ji’s family afford a bed? Look at his cart—there’s new quilts and what looks like a sack of rice too.”

“Didn’t he save someone from the woods the other day? I heard that man woke up this morning. When Jiang Ji’s mother was washing clothes yesterday, I saw the man’s garments—all covered in blood, but do you know what kind of fabric it was? Silk! Definitely a rich family’s young master. The bed money’s probably a reward.”

“Really? Then Jiang Ji’s family sure rescued the right person—found themselves a benefactor!”

“Exactly…”

Jiang Ji smirked. Please, he’s the one who found his benefactor—me.

Back home, the family was overjoyed as they unloaded the bed and carried it into the house.

Zhao Ru and the others had already cleared away Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei’s makeshift bedding, so the new bed went right there.

Jiang Xia wiped the frame clean with a cloth while Zhao Ru spread straw for padding, then layered the mattress, sheets, and new quilts neatly.

Jiang Ji helped Jiang Yan sit up. “Come on, Jiang Yan—let’s get you onto the new bed.”

Jiang Yan had been watching the family bustle about and hadn’t expected them to let him use it first.

“I’m fine here. Let Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei sleep on it,” he said quietly.

“It’s alright,” Jiang Ji replied with a grin. “You’ve paid plenty. I’ll get another bed this afternoon—everyone will have one.”

Hearing that, Jiang Yan said no more and, with Jiang Ji’s help, moved onto the bed.

“Brother! I saw candied haws in the cart! Are they for us?”

Jiang Nan came running in, clutching a skewer of candied haws, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Yeah, one for each of you.”

Jiang Bei also came in, holding a skewer. “But there are still more in there.”

“Those are for Aunt Xiufang’s family and the doctor’s kids. You two aren’t allowed to take extra.”

“Oh~”

Outside, Jiang Ji found Zhao Ru and pulled her into her room. He handed her the silver he’d exchanged and quietly discussed a few matters.

Not long after, Jiang Ji redeemed several portions of pork and eggs, packed them into a basket along with the candied haws, and went around the village.

He visited the doctor’s house to repay the medical fees, then stopped by the village head’s home and the families who had helped testify at the county yamen. To each household, he gifted two jin of pork, ten eggs, and a few skewers of candied haws as thanks.

Zhao Ru, meanwhile, carried three jin of pork, two jin of peanuts, a basket of eggs, and four skewers of candied haws to Aunt Xiufang’s home.

“Xiufang.”

Xiufang was at the stove, tending the fire and cooking. Seeing Zhao Ru, she stood up. “Oh, Xiaoru, what brings you here? Aren’t you in the middle of cooking dinner?”

“Xia’s cooking. Ji came back, so I came to return your money.” Zhao Ru set the items on the table and pulled out one tael of silver. “It’s the silver I borrowed from you before. It’s been a long time—I’m sorry it took so long to pay you back.”

“Oh come on, what are you talking about? We’re like family, don’t say things like that.” Their homes were close, and Xiufang knew some of what Zhao Ru’s family had been through, so she didn’t stand on ceremony. She took the silver but frowned at the pile of goods. “Why did you bring all this? Take it back, quick.”

“Ji bought it especially. All these years, we’ve relied on your help—without you, our family…” Zhao Ru’s voice trembled, and tears welled up in her eyes. The years of hardship pressed down on her heart, and she couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Don’t be so polite with me.” Xiufang took her hand and patted it. “It’s all in the past. Don’t think too much.”

Zhao Ru quickly wiped her tears and smiled. “Alright. I’ll head back then—still have to make lunch.”

“Okay.”

Watching Zhao Ru leave, Xiufang sighed softly.

“What are you sighing for?” Tu Gen came in from outside and spotted the pork and eggs on the table. “Where’d all this come from?”

Xiufang repeated the story.

Tu Gen grunted. “That young man Jiang Ji saved—they say he’s some rich family’s young master?”

“Seems like it. Otherwise, how could they afford all this? They even repaid the money we lent them.”

Tu Gen eyed his wife. “Then why’re you sighing? Feeling sour seeing someone else get rich?”

“What nonsense are you talking about?” Xiufang glared at him. “Now hurry and stoke the fire. We’ve got meat—want some or not?”

“Want!” Tu Gen said at once.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Ch 10: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

“Wait a moment,” Jiang Ji said.

He slipped on his shoes and went out to ask Zhao Ru for the man’s jade pendant and banknotes.

When Zhao Ru heard that the injured man had woken up, she was delighted and handed him the items.

Back in the room, Jiang Ji crouched beside the bed and said, “These were on you—a jade pendant and four banknotes. Other than these and your clothes, there was nothing else. My mother washed your clothes. Here, take them.”

The man accepted them without glancing at the notes, his eyes fixed on the jade pendant.

“Look familiar? Do you remember anything?” Jiang Ji asked.

The man shook his head.

“You’ll remember eventually,” Jiang Ji said encouragingly, then continued, “Brother, here’s the situation. The day before yesterday, you had a high fever and were unconscious. I called the village doctor for you, but my family is poor, so we haven’t paid the consultation and medicine fees yet. The doctor used up his entire stock of wound powder to stop the bleeding from your chest wound—it’s expensive stuff. Altogether, we owe him five taels and two qian of silver.”

To justify the future use of modern medicine, he went on, “But your wounds didn’t improve, and you were still unconscious. Yesterday, I went into town to find another doctor—it cost another five taels to save your life. That fee also hasn’t been paid yet.”

Hearing that, the man handed over all the banknotes.

Jiang Ji hesitated, then took only the fifty-tael note. “This one will do—see? Fifty taels. Don’t worry, I’ll bring the rest back to you later.”

The man’s voice was weak from exhaustion. “Keep it. I’ll still have to trouble you and your family while I recover.”

Jiang Ji could guess what he was thinking—probably embarrassed to owe too much. Besides, the medicine wasn’t cheap, and there was food and care to account for too. Five taels barely covered it.

“Alright then. It’s not like I saved you for your money, but since paying makes you feel better staying here, I’ll accept it as a care fee,” Jiang Ji said.

The man nodded. “Alright. Thank you.”

Jiang Ji tucked the fifty-tael note into his clothes. “Rest well. Don’t move around. Your wounds are long—if they tear open, it’ll be trouble. After breakfast, I’ll come clean and dress them again.”

Jiang Bei, listening from the side, stared wide-eyed.

When had his big brother become such a smooth talker? He’d just pocketed fifty taels without blinking!

Jiang Nan woke up too. Hearing that the man was conscious, he hurried to get dressed and, along with Jiang Bei, stood a few steps away, curiously peering at the stranger.

Jiang Ji noticed them and jerked his chin. “Jiang Nan, Jiang Bei—since you’re up, go wash up.”

“Oh.” Jiang Nan responded but didn’t move. Instead, he took a few steps closer, crouched by the bed, and asked, “Uncle, my name’s Jiang Nan. What’s yours?”

Jiang Ji’s eyes widened. “What uncle? Call him brother.”

The man wasn’t much older than Jiang Ji, and that “uncle” made him sound a generation older for no reason.

“Oh—brother,” Jiang Nan corrected obediently.

Jiang Bei tugged at Jiang Nan’s sleeve and whispered, “He doesn’t know his name. Big Brother said he lost his memory.”

“Huh?” Jiang Nan blinked in pity. “You can’t remember who you are?”

The man nodded. “That’s right.”

“Don’t ask too much,” Jiang Ji said, patting their heads. “Go wash your faces.”

“Okay.” This time, they obeyed and went out.

Jiang Ji was about to follow when he saw the man trying to get up. He quickly stepped over. “Didn’t I tell you not to move?”

For the first time since waking, the man’s composed, handsome face showed a hint of embarrassment. “I… need to relieve myself.”

Jiang Ji paused, blinking. “Oh, right—you’ve been unconscious all this time. Haven’t gone once, huh? Number one or number two?”

“What?” The man looked confused.

Jiang Ji smacked his forehead—right, they probably didn’t use that phrasing here. “I mean, bowel movement or urination?”

The man’s fair, well-defined face flushed slightly. “…Urination.”

“Got it. Wait here.” Jiang Ji got up and pointed at him. “Don’t move. Lie back down. The doctor said you should stay in bed for at least three days.”

A moment later, he brought back a chamber pot and handed it over. “Need my help?”

The man shook his head. “No, thank you. Could you… step out for a bit?”

Realizing he was embarrassed, Jiang Ji chuckled and said, “Alright. Just don’t get up—your abdominal wound is the worst one. There’s also a deep sword wound in your left chest that only just stopped bleeding.”

“Understood.”

“Call me when you’re done.” Jiang Ji went out and, considerately, closed the door behind him.

After a while, a low voice came from inside. “Brother Jiang Ji, you can come in now.”

Jiang Ji pushed the door open. The chamber pot sat by the bed; when he lifted it, it was surprisingly heavy.

“Just call me Jiang Ji,” he said. “I’ll bring you some water to wash up in a bit.” He cracked open the window for ventilation. “Cover yourself with the quilt. I’ll leave the door open for now.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

“No need to be so polite.” Jiang Ji carried the chamber pot out.

It was the first time he’d ever emptied one for someone else. In the past, he would’ve found it disgusting, but after just a few days in this world, he realized his tolerance and limits were dropping lower and lower.

Truly, people only learn endurance when circumstances force them to.

He emptied and rinsed the pot, then went to wash his own hands and face.

Zhao Ru pulled him aside and whispered, “Jiang Bei said that man’s lost his memory?”

“Yeah.”

“Poor thing,” she sighed softly, then asked, “And you took quite a bit of his silver?”

“I took fifty taels. After paying the doctor’s fees, there’s forty-four taels and eight qian left. He said I should keep it,” Jiang Ji replied.

“And you just accepted it like that?” Zhao Ru looked uneasy—she had never in her life held that much money. “You could’ve just taken five or ten taels. That’s too much—it doesn’t feel right.”

“Don’t worry, Mother,” Jiang Ji reassured her. “He’ll need proper food and nutrition while recovering, and we’ll be taking care of him anyway. Besides, if I don’t accept it, he might feel awkward staying here.”

Zhao Ru was still hesitant, but after thinking it over, what her son said made sense. She let it go.

At this time, simple toothbrushes and tooth powder already existed, though crude. Jiang Ji exchanged for one to try it out—it was rough, but far better than chewing willow twigs.

He decided to get one for everyone in the family, plus a new cloth towel for the injured man to wash up with.

And most importantly—proper toilet paper!

He placed the items neatly on the small table. Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei stared curiously.

They had seen toothbrushes at their playmates’ homes before, but not toilet paper. Even the wealthiest families in the village didn’t use it.

“Big brother, what’s this?” Jiang Nan asked, picking up a sheet of yellowish paper. “Are you going to the schoolhouse? But Dazhu’s writing paper doesn’t look like this.”

“This is toilet paper,” Jiang Ji explained. “You use it to wipe after doing your business.”

“Huh?” Jiang Nan was shocked. “You use such nice paper for that?”

“Yeah. From now on, use this—no more bamboo chips or grass. It’s not clean, and it’s bad for you. Got it?”

Jiang Nan turned to his mother, who looked just as bewildered. “This… this nice paper is really for the outhouse?” she asked, incredulous.

“Yes.”

“But isn’t that wasteful?” Zhao Ru said, pained at the thought.

Jiang Ji had expected that reaction. He used his trump card. “The immortal said it himself—it’s for hygiene. You’ll get sick less often this way.”

The moment they heard it was the immortal’s instruction, everyone fell silent.

If the immortal said so, they had to listen. What if he took back Jiang Ji’s treasure otherwise?

Jiang Ji went on, “Also, the immortal said that from now on, we must boil water before drinking it. No more drinking it raw—it’s dirty and makes people sick.”

In winter, Zhao Ru always boiled water, but in summer, they usually drank it straight from the jar.

He’d been too busy streaming and worrying about the patient to bring this up earlier. Now that the man was awake, he finally had time to take care of household matters.

Jiang Ji exchanged for a large clay pot. “The immortal said water should be boiled and then kept simmering a bit longer before drinking. From now on, pour boiled water in here. Whenever anyone’s thirsty, drink from this pot.”

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei nodded blankly. “Oh…”

Then Jiang Ji turned to Zhao Ru. “Mother, boil a few eggs this morning—to build strength.”

“Alright.” With things looking better now, Zhao Ru also wanted the children to eat well and grow tall. “Xiao Ji, ask that young man if there’s anything he can’t eat. When you go to town, pick up some vegetables.”

“Okay.”

Jiang Ji said nothing more. He carried a basin of warm water to the man’s room, along with a new toothbrush and towel.

“These are all new. Don’t worry,” he said.

“Thank you.”

Jiang Ji helped him sit up; moving inevitably tugged at the wounds, but the man didn’t so much as flinch.

He really could endure pain—Jiang Ji couldn’t help but admire him a little.

The man was still wearing Jiang Ji’s inner clothes. The weather was cold, and his own clothes had been torn and bloodstained; Zhao Ru had washed them all.

Since Jiang Ji didn’t have spare winter clothing, he used his system points to get the man a full set, including a thick cotton-padded coat.

Placing the rest neatly by the bed, Jiang Ji handed him the coat. “Here, put this on—you’ll catch cold otherwise.”

“Thanks.” The man slipped it on, rolled up his sleeves, and began washing up.

Watching how naturally he used the toothbrush and tooth powder, Jiang Ji recalled the jade pendant, the banknotes, and the fine fabric of his clothing. His mother had said it was excellent quality. Jiang Ji guessed this man was probably the young master of some wealthy family who had fallen into trouble.

“Oh right,” he said. “My mother asked me to check if there’s anything you can’t eat, or anything you dislike. She’s planning to cook something nice.”

The man rinsed his mouth and wiped it with the towel. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, right—you don’t remember,” Jiang Ji said thoughtfully. “Well, you’ll need light food while you recover. If you come across anything you like or dislike, just tell me, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Then sit tight—you’ll be having breakfast soon.”

“Okay.”

Breakfast was boiled eggs and porridge. Zhao Ru had added a bit of shredded meat and radish with a pinch of salt—it was far better than the wild-greens porridge they were used to.

Although Jiang Ji had said they’d have eggs regularly from now on, Zhao Ru still rationed carefully: one egg per person, with two for the injured man.

Jiang Ji brought the porridge and eggs into the room, set them on a small stool, and said, “Here you go—breakfast’s ready.”

“Alright.”

The man took the bowl of porridge and began to eat. His movements were quick but not crude—his table manners were refined and deliberate.

Watching him, Jiang Ji thought for a moment and said, “Since you don’t remember your name, it’s hard to call you something. Why don’t you pick a new one for now? What would you like to be called?”

The man swallowed his mouthful of porridge and paused in thought. Nothing came to mind, so he shook his head.

“Then how about I give you one?” Jiang Ji suggested. “Just a temporary name—once you remember who you are, you can use your real one again.”

“Then I’ll trouble you,” the man replied.

Jiang Ji studied his handsome face for a bit, then smiled. “My name’s Jiang Ji—it means quiet and still. So you should be Jiang Yan, Yan as in blazing heat. Perfect balance.”

The man looked at him and said simply, “Alright.”

“You really agreed?” Jiang Ji blinked, a little surprised. He had only said it half-jokingly.

The man nodded. “Yes. Jiang Yan—it sounds good.”

Jiang Ji blinked again, then the corners of his mouth curved upward. “I think so too.”

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Ch 9: The Regent’s Farmer Husband

Jiang Ji quickly opened the system and checked. The first batch of daily necessities available in this world could now be exchanged.

He searched for beds.

There were all kinds of styles from the current era—simple wooden ones for 200 points each, and the most expensive, an ornate rosewood carved bed, costing a full 100,000 points.

With every 10,000 total viewers equaling 100 points, and since Jiang Ji had only spent a dozen or so points before, he easily had enough to redeem two beds and new bedding.

He thought about it for a moment but decided not to tell his family yet. He’d wait until after they treated the injured man, then pretend it was a “reward from the immortal.”

Having made up his mind, Jiang Ji said, “Mother, let’s get ready to stitch that man’s wounds.”

“Alright.”

【I can’t believe they actually bought it】
【Well, it is ancient times, and he can make things appear—of course they’d believe him】
【The streamer’s really good at bluffing】
【You’re all immortals now, what’s there to complain about?】
【This fairy approves】
【This immortal lady finds it acceptable】

Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru washed their hands thoroughly with soap pod water, carried in the small dining table, and brought a basin of hot water into the room. Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei stayed outside to stand guard.

Jiang Ji claimed his medical supplies from the system. A large medical kit instantly appeared on the table—inside were various medicines, ointments, povidone-iodine, cotton swabs, alcohol-free sanitizer, tweezers, scalpels, suturing needles, and surgical thread—everything they would need.

Zhao Ru stared at the unfamiliar tools, full of wonder. These must all be things from the immortal’s realm.

The doctor on the stream explained the wound treatment steps, and Jiang Ji repeated them to Zhao Ru.

“Doctor, do I need to use anesthesia?” he asked. So many wounds—stitching would surely hurt.

【He’s unconscious. Don’t use it; it could cause complications if you don’t handle it properly.】

“Oh, alright.” Jiang Ji turned to Zhao Ru. “Mother, follow my lead.”

“Okay.”

After understanding the steps, Jiang Ji used the sanitizer to scrub his hands and put on the medical gloves, with Zhao Ru copying him.

Following the doctor’s instructions, Jiang Ji first measured the man’s temperature—39.8°C. Then he began cleaning the wounds, debriding, disinfecting—he did all this while Zhao Ru assisted beside him.

Jiang Ji had never done anything like this before. When removing necrotic tissue, he had to cut away the infected flesh with a scalpel. His hand trembled with nerves, and he accidentally sliced a bit too much.

Jiang Ji: …

【It’s fine—you’re doing really well.】

The doctor encouraged him, and after a while, Jiang Ji calmed down and grew more confident. He managed to clean out all the festering wounds successfully.

“Mother, you do the stitching. I don’t know how to sew. If you stitch up the wounds, they’ll heal faster.”

“Me?” Zhao Ru’s hands trembled slightly.

Jiang Ji encouraged her. “Don’t be afraid, Mother. You can do it.”

“…Alright.” Zhao Ru took a deep breath and picked up the suturing needle and thread.

As Jiang Ji relayed the doctor’s step-by-step instructions, Zhao Ru—unaccustomed to using the forceps—simply gripped the needle herself and began stitching by hand.

She was skilled at sewing, but the curved suturing needle was different from what she was used to. At first, her movements were clumsy, but soon she grew more practiced—the stitches came out clean and even.

Suturing, disinfecting, applying ointment, bandaging—by the time mother and son finished treating all of the man’s wounds, more than an hour had passed, and the sky was already darkening.

Jiang Ji gave the man a tetanus shot and fed him some medicine before they were finally done.

After cleaning up, both of them let out a long sigh of relief.

“Will he live now?” Zhao Ru asked.

“At least he’s better than before,” Jiang Ji said uncertainly. “If he doesn’t get better after this, then there’s really nothing more we can do.”

Because of all the washing, the straw mattress and sheets were damp. Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru replaced them with fresh straw and clean bedding. They also set up the borrowed doorboard beside the bed as a makeshift cot for Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei.

A little while later, Jiang Ji pulled Zhao Ru aside and whispered, “Mother, the immortal just rewarded us for helping save that man—he sent us two beds and quilts. We’ve got beds now.”

Zhao Ru’s eyes widened with excitement. “Beds and quilts?” Of course—it was just like an immortal to know exactly what they needed most.

“Mm.” Jiang Ji nodded, then added after thinking, “But tonight, let Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei sleep on the doorboard. I’ll go out tomorrow, bring the beds and quilts back with the cart, and get another sack of rice and some vegetables too. If anyone asks, just say the man we rescued woke up and gave us silver to buy them.”

Zhao Ru immediately understood. Their family was poor—they couldn’t possibly afford two new beds. If anyone saw, it would raise suspicion. The matter of the immortal’s treasure had to stay secret, so there had to be a believable explanation.

“I understand,” she said quickly. “I won’t tell the boys either.”

“Good.” Seeing how quickly Zhao Ru caught on, Jiang Ji was pleased.

“Oh, right,” Zhao Ru remembered. “When I washed his clothes this morning, I found four banknotes in his sleeve pocket. I kept them safe for now—I’ll show you.”

She went to the room and brought them out. Zhao Ru couldn’t read, so she didn’t know their value.

Jiang Ji looked them over—one was for 1,000 taels, two were for 100, and one for 50.

“When he wakes up, we’ll give them back to him,” Jiang Ji said. “We still owe the doctor from yesterday anyway, so he should know.” He didn’t mention how much they were worth and handed the notes back. “You keep them for now, Mother.”

“Alright.”

With the rice supply now secure, Zhao Ru finally felt willing to cook real rice instead of porridge. That evening, the family once again enjoyed rice and meat.

“It’s so good to have rice again,” Jiang Nan said happily after finishing his bowl, completely content.

The others felt the same.

Watching her children eat with bright faces, Zhao Ru finally let out a deep breath of relief.

Before bed, Jiang Ji checked the man’s temperature again—it had dropped a bit, down to 39°C.

The fever was going down. That meant he was improving, and everyone felt a little lighter.

After giving him his medicine, Jiang Ji went to bed himself.

He’d barely slept the night before, worried about the patient. Now that things had calmed down, exhaustion hit him all at once. He fell asleep deeply, not even dreaming, until dawn broke.

Yawning, Jiang Ji sat up and turned to look at the man beside him. He reached out to touch his forehead to check the temperature—but just as his hand brushed the man’s skin, a powerful grip clamped down on his wrist.

Jiang Ji: ?

A pair of sharp, wary eyes stared into his, filled with danger and feral alertness, as if to say, Move, and I’ll kill you.

The grip was iron-strong. Jiang Ji winced—the man’s hand locked so tightly around his wrist he couldn’t move.

For a moment Jiang Ji froze—then realized the man’s eyes were open. Delighted, he exclaimed, “Buddy, you’re finally awake?”

The man kept staring, his gaze still cold and watchful, like a predator poised to strike.

“Easy, easy. I’m not going to hurt you,” Jiang Ji said quickly. “You were injured—stab wounds, multiple. You passed out in the woods near the village. I brought you back. Do you remember anything?”

Seeing that Jiang Ji didn’t seem dangerous, the man slowly loosened his grip, scanning the surroundings before trying to sit up.

“Hey, hey—don’t move,” Jiang Ji said, holding him down gently. “I told you, you’re hurt. Stay still, or you’ll reopen your wounds.”

The man frowned slightly as pain shot through him. He lifted his shirt and saw his torso wrapped in bandages.

He looked up at Jiang Ji. “You… saved me?”

His voice was rough, dry from thirst.

“Yeah. Your wounds were infected, festering—you almost didn’t make it,” Jiang Ji said while pulling on his coat.

Despite his injuries, the man made no sound of pain—his brows only furrowed faintly.

He’s got a high tolerance, Jiang Ji thought.

“Thank you,” the man said, glancing around. “Where is this place?”

“My home, of course,” Jiang Ji replied, fastening his coat.

Jiang Bei woke up at that moment, hearing voices. He sat up and asked, “Brother, is he awake?”

“Yeah, he’s awake.”

“Great! That means we get rice for the next three months!”

Jiang Bei still remembered his brother’s promise that if they saved the man, the immortal would reward them with three months’ worth of rice. Excited, he scrambled out of bed to look.

“Put on your clothes first,” Jiang Ji reminded him. “You’ll catch cold.”

“Oh.” Jiang Bei obediently began dressing.

Hearing the child’s voice, the man tilted his head back and saw another bed above, where two boys were stirring.

“They’re my younger brothers,” Jiang Ji said. “Twins—Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei. I’m Jiang Ji—‘Ji’ as in ‘lonely.’” He scooted toward the edge of the bed to pull on his pants, then glanced back at the man. “So, brother—what’s your name? How’d you get so badly hurt?”

“I…” The man’s eyes went blank. His head suddenly throbbed sharply, pain twisting through it like knives. He raised a hand to press it.

“Hey, don’t touch it—you’ve got a head wound too,” Jiang Ji said, quickly pulling his hand away. “Does it hurt?”

The man opened his eyes and nodded.

“You must’ve hit your head somewhere—it’s injured too. Probably a mild concussion. I already applied medicine; you’ll get better soon, don’t worry,” Jiang Ji said, then asked, “Oh right, you still haven’t told me—what’s your name?”

The man froze for a moment, then after thinking for a while, said in confusion, “I don’t know.”

Jiang Ji was stunned. “You don’t know?”

“I don’t.”

Jiang Ji blinked. Could it be… amnesia?

“Then do you remember how you got hurt? Where your home is? How you ended up here?”

The man again shook his head.

A head injury could definitely cause memory loss. Jiang Ji studied his face carefully—the man’s eyes were steady but vacant, filled with confusion. It didn’t look like he was pretending.

Jiang Ji calmly concluded, “Brother, I hate to break it to you, but you’ve probably lost your memory.”

The man frowned, straining to pull something—anything—from his mind, but nothing came.

Seeing that expression, Jiang Ji patted his shoulder and said reassuringly, “It’s fine. This kind of thing is usually temporary. You might remember everything again before you know it. For now, just stay here. In your condition, you can’t go anywhere anyway. Focus on healing first.”

The man looked at him quietly and murmured, “Thank you.”

Thandar: 😢 I noticed there’s always some haters who give 1-2 stars on NU as soon as we upload a new yaoi novel 😤 like instantly. If they don’t like yaoi, just ignore it come on.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾