Author Archives: Thandar

Jiang Ji’s stomach felt as if it were about to turn inside out.

He had been tossed sideways over the horse’s back like a sack of grain, his head dangling down, his belly pressed right against the saddle. Each gallop jarred his gut, pounding it over and over, sending waves of nausea surging up his throat. He barely managed to choke it down.

His mouth was stuffed with cloth. He tried to push it out with his tongue, but the wad was jammed too tight, pinning his tongue flat so he couldn’t budge it.

Fortunately, his stomach was empty—otherwise, he might have choked to death on his own vomit.

Inside the burlap sack, the air grew thin. Jiang Ji’s head pounded, his chest tight as breathing became harder. He pressed his nose against the fabric, drawing in what little air seeped through the coarse weave.

At least the sack was breathable, he thought dimly. Thank heaven his nose wasn’t stuffed from a cold, or he’d already be suffocating.

He didn’t know how long they rode before the horses finally began to slow. Just as he was about to lose consciousness, someone hauled him up and tossed him to the ground. His hip and elbow struck gravel, pain lancing through him, dragging him back from the edge of fainting.

Then, someone yanked the sack off his head. Fresh air rushed into his lungs—he gasped greedily, gulping down life.

Time passed in a blur before his foggy mind began to clear.

When he opened his eyes, he saw dark leaves above him, a scatter of stars peeking through the gaps, faintly lighting the night.

Nearby, voices murmured.

He turned his head. A ring of men sat around a campfire, roasting rabbits and wild pheasants.

He counted quickly—fourteen of them in all. Their horses were tied to the trees nearby.

The smell of roasting meat wafted over, making his empty stomach twist painfully. His jaw and cheeks ached from the gag; the rag in his mouth was soaked with saliva, sticky and suffocating, making him want to retch even more.

He lay still on the ground, breathing slowly, gathering his strength.

In his mind, he called out, “2977, 2977, can you hear me?”

【What does the host require?】

Jiang Ji’s eyes lit up. “You can communicate through thought?”

【You always could.】

“Then give me a spring knife.”

【A spring knife is classified as a weapon. This is the Farming System; weapons cannot be exchanged.】

“An electric baton, then?”

【Also unavailable.】

“A sleeping drug?”

【No. Reminder: This system is the Farming System. Only agricultural and related tools, foods, and daily necessities can be exchanged.】

“…What about those medicines before?”

【Medical rewards are for ensuring the host’s survival only.】

“…Fine. Exchange a fruit knife. That’s a daily necessity, right?”

【Approved. A folding fruit knife requires eight points. Exchange now?】

“Make sure it folds small—something I can hide in my hand.”

【Exchange complete. Folding fruit knife delivered. Points deducted.】

A moment later, a compact folding knife appeared in Jiang Ji’s palm, small enough to fit discreetly in his hand.

With his wrists bound behind his back, he rolled slightly to the side, opened the knife, and began sawing slowly through the ropes.

When the time came, he thought grimly, he could always exchange a cleaver next—something meant for chopping bones. That would do the job.

By the firelight, Jiang Ji carefully studied the kidnappers. The one nearest him had his sleeves rolled up from the heat, exposing a tattoo on his arm—an eerie blue skull.

A skull.

Jiang Ji’s eyes widened.

No way—these men couldn’t be… Skull Mountain bandits?

He looked again. Several others had rolled-up sleeves too, and on two more arms, he spotted the same tattoo.

Damn it.

They really were Skull Mountain bandits!

Jiang Ji froze completely.

“Boss, if their family’s coming all the way here, it’ll be daylight by the time they arrive. This place is too far out. Who knows if they’ll even dare travel at night?”

“Stalk,” said another man, “you sure this family’s got a hundred thousand taels?”

The skinny man—Stalk, the one who’d been tailing Jiang Ji—answered, “Of course they do! More than ten counties! I checked it out. They sold grain seed at forty coins a jin—do the math, that’s a mountain of silver!”

“Do the math, my ass. You know I can’t count, and you’re still showing off!”

Someone kicked Stalk in the shin. He jumped aside, grinning. “Anyway, they’ve got money, that’s all that matters. Didn’t Hu Yuanwu say the same thing in the spring? That this kid’s rich? He just got away that time.”

“Watch your mouth,” another warned.

Someone glanced toward Jiang Ji. He quickly shut his eyes, pretending to be unconscious.

But his mind was roaring.

Hu Yuanwu?

Wasn’t that the Prefect’s name?

Stalk said “in the spring”… Did that mean they’d already planned to rob him back then?

He remembered when he’d gone to Huawen County to sell seeds—he’d been carrying a fortune. He and Jiang Yan had taken a detour home through Nanping County, just to be safe.

So back then, they’d already escaped an ambush without even knowing it.

Confirmed—these men really were the bandits from Skull Mountain!

So back in the spring, had they already been colluding with Hu Yuanwu?

Could it be that these bandits were actually under Hu Yuanwu’s protection? Was that why the authorities could never seem to deal with them—because someone powerful was shielding them?

Or perhaps Hu Yuanwu was still holding a grudge, having lost face to him before, and leaked his whereabouts to the bandits on purpose?

Jiang Ji’s mind spun rapidly through one possibility after another.

Now that he had been captured by these Skull Mountain bandits, could he still make it out alive?

His heart sank to the bottom of his chest.

But he had to try—he couldn’t just die here. That would be far too unjust!

The bandits were still chatting among themselves.

“Eh, what’s there to worry about? The brat’s probably fainted. He twitched a bit on the road earlier, but he’s been still since.”

“You sure he’s not dead?”

“I’ll check.”

Footsteps approached. Jiang Ji went limp, breathing slowly and evenly.

A finger pressed under his nose. After a moment, the man’s footsteps retreated.

“He’s still breathing.”

The group relaxed.

Jiang Ji dared not open his eyes now. He forced himself to stay utterly still, to shrink his presence, to avoid drawing any unnecessary attention that might lead to a beating—or worse.

Then the thin man’s voice—Stalk—sounded again. “Hey, I’m telling you, this kid’s got a restaurant in Changping County. The food’s amazing. There’s this new thing called ‘chili,’ real spicy stuff. I ate there twice—tch tch—the flavor! None of the inns in the nearby counties can compare. The place is packed every noon.”

“Yeah? When we get the ransom, we should go eat there too!”

“Eat there, my ass,” someone snorted. “You dare go into town? Aren’t you scared the constables will catch you?”

“What’s there to fear? I’ll shave my beard, wear a long robe—at least I’ll look like a refined gentleman.”

“Refined, my foot! You’re so ugly I nearly lost my dinner!”

“Haha! Ten thousand taels of silver—once we finish this job, we’ll live easy for years!”

“Yeah! I’ll finally be able to buy Juan’er from Yicui House!”

“Damn it, all you think about is women. I’m going back to the gambling den to settle the score with that Lin bastard!”

“You already won the courtesan, of course you don’t care!”

The bandits burst out laughing, loudly fantasizing about how they’d spend their fortune.

A while later, someone climbed up the slope.

“Who’s there?”

The scar-faced leader’s hand went straight to his sword. The others tensed, weapons ready.

“Boss, it’s me!”

A man appeared, leading a horse—it was the one Jiang Ji had seen before, the one who had delivered the ransom note.

Seeing him return, Jiang Ji realized that meant the letter had reached home. His family now knew he’d been kidnapped.

His mother was probably terrified. The family was made up of women, children, and the elderly—only Jiang Yan could be relied upon.

Knowing Jiang Yan’s temperament, he definitely wouldn’t let Zhao Ru take the risk. The one coming to ransom him would surely be Jiang Yan.

Jiang Ji silently prayed that Jiang Yan would seek help from Magistrate Xu, not charge in recklessly on his own.

“Third Brother’s back? You got the letter delivered?”

“Delivered!” the man said, tying up his horse and sitting down heavily. He grabbed a roasted chicken leg and tore into it. “I made some random guy deliver it for me.”

Stalk thought for a moment. “That kid Jiang Ji doesn’t have a father, right? Just an old mother, a younger sister, and two little brothers. Oh, and that one called Jiang Yan. Think they’ll report this to the officials?”

Third Brother took another bite. “I told the messenger to warn them—if they report to the authorities, we’ll chop off one of Jiang Ji’s arms.”

“Good enough. Even if they set out right away, it’ll take them three or four hours. We can still get some sleep.”

“They don’t have horses?”

Stalk shook his head. “No. Every time Jiang Ji goes to town, he walks and drags a handcart himself.”

“Rich as he is, and he doesn’t buy a carriage?”

“Who knows—maybe he can’t ride.”

Jiang Ji: … It’s because the house isn’t finished yet—there’s nowhere to keep one!

The scar-faced leader spoke up. “Stay alert. We don’t know if they’ll try reporting this.”

“Yes, Boss.”

After they’d eaten their fill, the scar-faced man sent a few to guard the three paths leading up the hill. The rest lay down to sleep.

When all was quiet, Jiang Ji slowly opened his eyes. Everyone seemed to be asleep. The scar-faced leader rested against a tree, blade in his arms, facing Jiang Ji’s direction.

The fire crackled softly. Jiang Ji kept slicing at the rope bit by bit.

At last, his wrist came free.

A surge of joy rose in his chest—but just as he began to move, one bandit got up to relieve himself, and another suddenly sat up, rubbing his eyes.

Jiang Ji froze again. These men weren’t sleeping deeply. If he moved now, he’d be caught in seconds. There were guards at every path down the hill anyway—he’d never escape.

He had to wait for the right moment.

*

Out on the main road, a troop of riders galloped through the night, startling the birds from the trees.

Under the faint starlight, Captain Zhou Lin studied the terrain and caught up with Jiang Yan. “Jiang Yan, this should be close. Turtle Ridge is about ten li ahead—the fork’s just up there.”

Jiang Yan reined in his horse, and the thirty-six riders behind him did the same, dismounting together.

The county only had ten horses of its own; six more came from Lord Chen’s men, and the rest Jiang Yan had bought from the stable himself.

Zhou Lin called out, “Everyone, check your weapons! Nothing missing?”

The men went over their gear—spears, sabers, bows, daggers, wound medicine—all armed and ready.

“All here.”

Jiang Yan checked his own gear as well—his saber at his waist, the dagger strapped to his calf, the wound medicine tucked inside his chest—everything was in place.

“Lord Zhou, we’ll proceed as planned. Get there as quickly as you can.”

Zhou Lin said, “Alright. Remember—set out half an hour later. Be careful, and wait for us to arrive before you meet them. Don’t go in early, understand?”

Jiang Yan nodded. “Understood.”

Zhou Lin waved his hand. “Xiaopang and A-Fu, you two stay to watch the horses. A quarter hour after Jiang Yan departs, bring the mounts quietly to the area near Turtle Ridge—no unnecessary noise. Everyone else, follow me.”

The group lined up behind Zhou Lin and slipped into the narrow mountain path ahead.

Luckily, there was enough starlight tonight to make out the trail faintly.

Jiang Yan took out a stick of incense marked to burn for exactly half an hour. He lit it and set it on the ground, then helped Xiaopang and A-Fu mind the horses.

He stared down the dark path ahead, his eyes deep and cold as still water.

“Brother Jiang Yan, we’ll save Jiang Ji,” Xiaopang said in reassurance.

“Mm.”

Jiang Yan kept glancing at the incense. Time seemed to crawl—the incense burned slower than any he’d ever seen.

At long last, it finished. Jiang Yan said only, “Wait a quarter hour before moving.”

Then he swung onto his horse, pressed his knees to its sides, and shot off like an arrow into the darkness.

He galloped for several li before slowing down slightly.

The terrain here was all desolate hills. He had never been to Turtle Ridge before and didn’t know which mountain it was exactly.

But after riding a bit farther, he saw it—a fork in the road ahead, with two men sitting there.

This must be the place.

Jiang Yan glanced toward the mountain behind them. It wasn’t high, maybe forty or fifty zhang.

He rode up to the two men, dismounted, and said, “I’m here to ransom Jiang Ji.”

Seeing someone ride up, the two men lazily got to their feet. One had a straw stem between his teeth. “Where’s the money?”

Jiang Yan patted the pouch at his waist. “Right here.”

“Hand it over,” the man said, extending his hand.

Jiang Yan held the pouch steady. “I want to see Jiang Ji first.”

The man spat out his straw and looked him over from head to toe. “Throw over your knife.”

Jiang Yan hesitated, then unbuckled his saber and tossed it across.

The other man caught it, drew it, and pressed the blade against Jiang Yan’s neck. “Hands on your head. Search him.”

Jiang Yan laced his hands over his head. The first man came over and frisked him from top to bottom, pulling a dagger from his pant leg.

The man gave a mocking chuckle, twirling the dagger in his hand, then curled his fingers to his lips and whistled sharply to alert the men on the mountain.

“Move. Don’t try anything.”

They flanked Jiang Yan—one ahead, one behind—and marched him up the mountain path.

Halfway up, on a flat clearing, the scar-faced leader snapped awake at the sound of the whistle.

“They’re here. Everyone up.”

The others, already half-alert, stirred at once.

“Dawn already?”

“It’s not light yet. How’d they get here so fast?”

Jiang Ji had heard the whistle too. At their words, his heart leapt.

Jiang Yan was here?

So soon? The bandits had said dawn at the earliest. It had to be far—did Jiang Yan really come alone on horseback?

Moments later, Jiang Ji saw him being led up the slope. He craned his neck to look behind.

No one else.

Jiang Ji glared at him. “…”

Seriously, big brother—you came alone?

Did you really think the two of us could take on over a dozen armed men?

Jiang Yan swept the area with his eyes and spotted Jiang Ji lying on the ground, bound hand and foot, a cloth gag stuffed in his mouth, staring back at him wide-eyed.

His gaze flicked quickly over Jiang Ji—no bruises on his face, no visible blood. Relief flashed briefly in his eyes.

“Boss, he’s here. Came alone on horseback,” one of the guards said.

The scar-faced leader gave Jiang Yan a sharp look. “You’re sure no one followed?”

“No one. He’s alone.”

Jiang Yan didn’t want to waste words. “The money’s here. One hand for the ransom, one hand for the hostage.”

“Where’s the silver notes?” the scar-faced man asked.

Jiang Yan loosened his pouch, revealing neatly stacked silver drafts inside.

One hundred thousand taels in notes—enough to bulge the leather pouch full. Every bandit’s eyes gleamed.

The scar-faced man gestured to one of his men, who cut the ropes at Jiang Ji’s ankles and dragged him to the leader’s side.

Jiang Ji’s legs, numbed from hours of being bound, nearly gave out. Jiang Yan called out anxiously, “Are you alright?”

Jiang Ji winced at the prickling rush of blood and shook his head, steadying himself.

“He’s here. Bring the money,” the scar-faced man said.

Jiang Yan unfastened the pouch and looked at Jiang Ji. “Come here.”

A bandit glanced toward the leader. The scar-faced man nodded. With this many of them around, there was no way the two could run.

Jiang Ji started toward him.

Then a bandit shouted, “Boss! The rope on this brat’s wrist—he’s been sawing it loose! It’s already cut through!”

At that, Jiang Yan instantly yanked Jiang Ji behind him, facing the men warily.

The scar-faced man gave a lazy glance. “Relax. Even if the rope’s off, there’s nowhere for him to go.”

Jiang Ji: “…”

Jiang Yan reached out, pulled the cloth from Jiang Ji’s mouth, and turned him around to untie the ropes binding his torso.

Only then did he notice the small knife in Jiang Ji’s hand.

Once freed, Jiang Ji rubbed his wrists, then his sore jaw.

“The money,” said the scar-faced man, “toss it here.”

Jiang Yan tossed the pouch over and immediately pulled Jiang Ji to leave, but the bandits blocked their way.

The scar-faced man caught the pouch, unzipped it, glanced inside at the silver notes, and after confirming they were real, zipped it back up again.

Jiang Yan turned to him and said coldly, “We can go now, can’t we?”

The scar-faced man turned the pouch in his hand, lifted his gaze with a half-smile that wasn’t a smile, and said, “You two… better not leave.”

Jiang Yan’s eyes darkened as he pulled Jiang Ji behind him protectively. “Even thieves have a code. You wanted money—you’ve got it. What more do you want?”

Jiang Ji had expected this and was mentally prepared. He quickly scanned left and right, looking for the best side to break through.

“Do you know who we are?” the scar-faced man asked.

“I don’t care who you are,” Jiang Yan said, eyes steady. “You’ve got your money. No need to saddle yourselves with two murder charges.”

The bandits burst into laughter.

“Hahaha! Murder charges? How much do you think a life costs? None of us here doesn’t already have blood on his hands.”

Jiang Yan frowned deeply.

Jiang Ji thought for a moment, then stepped forward and said to the scar-faced man, “If you kill us, you’ll get nothing more. But if you let us go, I’ll send you ten thousand taels every year. How about that?”

Jiang Yan gave him a sharp glance, but Jiang Ji squeezed his hand in reassurance.

The bandits froze for a moment. Could it really work like that?

They exchanged looks.

A steady flow of money every year sounded far better than a one-time ransom.

All eyes turned toward their leader.

The scar-faced man sneered. “Ten thousand taels for your two lives?”

“Yeah,” another bandit jeered. “Trying to buy your way out like we’re beggars?”

“Your own life worth so little?”

“So stingy!”

Jiang Ji sighed. “Then fifteen thousand. That’s the most I can offer. Brothers, this year I made money selling seeds, but there won’t be any next year. Without that, I’ll only have the restaurant. Fifteen thousand taels would drain it dry.”

The thin one, Stalk, shouted, “Your restaurant’s packed every day! How could it earn so little?”

Jiang Ji explained patiently, “It’s because the other taverns don’t have chili yet. Once everyone starts planting it next year, they’ll all sell the same dishes, and my customers will leave. Next year, profits will drop a lot. That fifteen thousand already includes what we earn from farming.”

The bandits didn’t know what kind of crops he grew or how much profit a restaurant made, but Stalk had said the restaurant’s business really was booming only because of the unique chili dishes.

Before they could reach a deal, a sharp whistle cut through the air from the foot of the mountain—followed by the sound of fighting.

“Run!” Jiang Yan shouted, kicking the man beside him and dragging Jiang Ji with him as they bolted.

The bandits realized what was happening, and the scar-faced man roared, “Catch them!”

Jiang Ji was still a little dazed, running like a headless chicken after Jiang Yan.

As he ran, he asked breathlessly, “There’s backup?”

“Yeah. The county captain brought men.”

Jiang Ji’s eyes lit up. Of course—Jiang Yan was too smart to come die alone.

“How many?” he asked.

“Thirty-six.”

“Good odds! Let’s go!” Jiang Ji perked up, grabbing Jiang Yan’s arm and trying to pull him faster.

But the bandits weren’t slow either. They caught up quickly, forcing the two into a fight.

The bandits all had blades. Luckily, Jiang Ji knew some hand-to-hand fighting, though the little knife he held was useless except at close range—and he couldn’t get close enough to use it.

Dodging and rolling, he grabbed a dry tree branch from the ground and swung it wildly at his attackers.

Meanwhile, Jiang Yan had already disarmed one of the bandits and seized his saber. His body moved as if on instinct—his strikes and parries sharp and fluid, like someone who’d done this a hundred times before.

Amid the clash of steel, sudden flashes of memory streaked through his mind—
torrential rain, a ring of black-clad, masked men attacking him all at once…
then himself cornered at a cliff’s edge, slipping, falling—

A stabbing pain split through his head. He faltered for an instant and a blade slashed his arm. Snapping back to focus, he countered immediately, his saber slicing across the attacker’s arm, severing it cleanly.

He wanted to grab another weapon to toss to Jiang Ji, but more enemies swarmed in. Instead, he kicked a fallen blade across the ground toward Jiang Ji.

Catching the glint in the corner of his eye, Jiang Ji rolled, snatched it up, and shouted, “Jiang Yan! You okay?”

“I’m fine—hold on!”

But there were still eleven bandits on the mountain, excluding the four below. Before long, the two were surrounded, both bleeding from several shallow cuts.

Jiang Ji’s back pressed against Jiang Yan’s.

The scar-faced man stood with his arms crossed, watching coldly. “Kill them both!”

Ten bandits surged forward together, blades flashing like silver rain.

Death was only a breath away.

“Damn it—then we’ll take you with us!”

Jiang Ji grit his teeth, raised the saber, and charged. It was his first time wielding a blade, his first time cutting a man—his hands trembled, but cornered in desperation, blood and fury surged up from deep inside, pushing him past fear.

“Jiang Ji!”

Jiang Yan fought fiercely, deflecting attacks on both sides, blocking blows aimed at Jiang Ji whenever he could.

When he saw Jiang Ji rush headlong into the fray, his eyes reddened. He tried to reach him, but the bandits on his side swarmed again, keeping him pinned down.

Unlike the bandits who lived and died by the sword, Jiang Ji had little real fighting experience. He’d only trained in modern-style sparring, not blade work, and his slashes were full of openings.

He was busy blocking the blades in front of him when a bandit suddenly swung his sword toward Jiang Ji’s back.

A wet slicing sound followed—

“Ugh!” Jiang Ji gasped in pain and dropped to his knees.

When Jiang Yan turned around, he saw blood soaking through Jiang Ji’s back. His eyes widened with fury.

“Jiang Ji!”

The bandit raised his sword for another strike, but Jiang Yan rushed forward, deflecting the blow and shielding Jiang Ji with his own body.

“You alright?” Jiang Yan asked.

Jiang Ji was in agony, using his blade for support as he forced himself upright. “Still breathing.”

“Hold on,” Jiang Yan said grimly.

The remaining bandits surged toward him, and Jiang Yan fought desperately to keep them back.

Jiang Ji spat blood, propped himself up, and swung his sword again.

Whoosh—

Whoosh, whoosh—

Arrows suddenly whistled through the night sky, one after another, striking the bandits square in the chest and stomach. They fell one by one.

Captain Zhou Lin had arrived with his men.

They had split into two groups to climb the mountain from both sides—one had been spotted.

Reinforcements!

Jiang Ji’s spirit surged. “Kill—”

He didn’t finish the word before Jiang Yan yanked him aside, dodging an arrow from the rear.

“Fall back!”

The scar-faced leader saw the situation turning against them and shouted, “Retreat!” He bolted first.

The remaining bandits scattered after him, while the wounded ones were quickly caught by Zhou Lin’s men.

Zhou Lin led his soldiers in pursuit. The fleeing bandits were untying their horses, but another group of county soldiers appeared from the opposite side.

Caught between two forces, the bandits were surrounded. Zhou Lin’s troops closed in. Jiang Ji tried to charge after them, but Jiang Yan grabbed his arm. “You still okay?”

“I’m fine!” Jiang Ji turned to him. “What about you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Good.” Jiang Ji’s voice hardened. “Kill the bastards!”

He darted forward again, and Jiang Yan followed closely to cover his back.

Jiang Ji fixed his gaze on the scar-faced leader—he still had the pouch of silver notes strapped to his waist.

Seizing the moment while the leader was beset on all sides, Jiang Ji slashed at his back.

“Jiang Yan, now!”

Jiang Yan struck from behind, slicing clean through the leader’s right arm, sending his sword flying, then drove his blade straight into him.

Blood sprayed out. The scar-faced man screamed and was kicked to the ground, pinned by two officers.

Jiang Ji stared, awestruck. He turned to Jiang Yan. “That was amazing!”

So strong—one swing and the man’s arm was gone!

Jiang Yan said nothing.

Seeing the leader subdued, Jiang Ji went over and unbuckled the pouch from his waist. He started to fasten it around his own, but there was a bleeding cut at his side, so he handed it to Jiang Yan instead. “You wear it.”

Jiang Yan took it and strapped it on.

The fighting had mostly ended. Most of the bandits were restrained, though several officers were wounded—but thankfully, none were dead.

“Sir, have they all been caught?” Jiang Ji asked.

“Four escaped,” Zhou Lin replied.

“There’s another pouch—has the rest of the silver notes,” Jiang Ji said.

Zhou Lin searched around, found it on the ground, and handed it back to him.

He didn’t pursue the fugitives further; the main goal tonight had been to rescue Jiang Ji. “You two alright? Can you walk?”

Jiang Ji’s body was covered in wounds—arms, legs, and especially the deep gash across his back.

Now that the battle was over, the tension drained from him, and all at once, pain flooded in. His whole body ached, exhaustion washing over him.

“Yeah… I can walk…” he said weakly—then his vision darkened, and his knees buckled.

“Jiang Ji!” Jiang Yan shouted, catching him before he fell. His hands came away sticky with blood.

“Sir, he’s bleeding too much. I need to stop it.”

Zhou Lin hurried over to support Jiang Ji. “Bring a torch!”

A soldier came forward with one, and when the light hit Jiang Ji’s back, he sucked in a sharp breath. “That bad?”

“Hold him steady,” Jiang Yan said, pulling out the wound medicine from his coat. He uncorked it and poured it over the injury.

Zhou Lin looked over, then shouted to the others, “Rest here for fifteen minutes! Dress all wounds!”

They bound the captured bandits and began treating the wounded.

“Hurry,” Zhou Lin ordered. “We’re too close to Skull Mountain. There are about two hundred men in their main camp. We can’t stay here long. We move out soon.”

Jiang Yan finished bandaging Jiang Ji’s back, waist, and arm.

Barely conscious, Jiang Ji stared at him and whispered, “Jiang Yan… am I dying?”

“With me here, you won’t die.” Jiang Yan patted his face. “Stay awake.”

Jiang Ji gave a faint smile. “But… I’m so tired.”

“Don’t sleep. I’ll get you home soon.”

Jiang Yan lifted him onto his back. “Sir, ready. Let’s go.”

“Move out!” Zhou Lin commanded.

The soldiers, carrying torches and supporting the wounded, began descending the mountain with their prisoners.

Jiang Ji lay limp against Jiang Yan’s back, his eyelids heavy. He couldn’t tell if it was blood loss or death creeping in—only that he was so, so tired.

Still… if he really died here, what a pity. He hadn’t even fallen in love yet.

“Jiang Yan,” he murmured.

“Yeah?” Jiang Yan kept his eyes on the path, walking fast but steady. “Stay awake.”

Jiang Ji nuzzled weakly against his neck. “Jiang Yan, I haven’t married yet. I still need a wife.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

“If… if I don’t die,” Jiang Ji said, forcing the words out, “and if you haven’t married by the time you get your memories back… then you’ll be my wife, alright? I’ll take good care of you. Okay?”

Jiang Yan froze for a beat, his eyes dark. “…Alright.”

Jiang Ji’s lips curved into a faint smile. “You promised. No take-backs.”

“Mm.”

Hearing his answer, Jiang Ji smiled again, and his consciousness slipped away into darkness.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Jiang Ji said he would be careful, and the next day Jiang Yan noticed that he really was talking to him normally again—just like before.

Like before… and yet not quite.

In the past, Jiang Ji’s eyes would light up when he spoke to him. No matter where he was going, he’d always ask, “Do you want to come too?”
But now, Jiang Ji would glance at him only briefly before quickly looking away. Wherever he went, he no longer asked whether Jiang Yan wanted to join.

Before, Jiang Ji would often pat his shoulder or brush against his arm in passing.
Since they’d started sleeping separately, even those small, casual touches were gone.

Jiang Ji was deliberately keeping his distance.

Jiang Yan had never been talkative, but now he spoke even less. For several days in a row, he hadn’t slept well; faint dark circles shadowed his eyes.

Zhao Ru noticed and grew concerned. Over breakfast, she said, “Xiao Ji, maybe you should switch back and sleep with Jiang Yan again? Look at him—those dark circles are terrible. He must not be sleeping well. Jiang Bei moves around too much at night. Let him sleep with Jiang Nan instead—Jiang Nan sleeps deeply and won’t notice.”

Jiang Bei looked at Jiang Yan’s eyes and asked guiltily, “Brother Jiang Yan, did I kick you last night?”

Jiang Yan paused, then shook his head. “No.”

“Really?” Jiang Bei clearly had no idea whether he kicked people in his sleep, but since both his big brother and mother said so, it must have happened. “I can sleep with Third Brother instead.”

“It’s my own problem,” Jiang Yan said after a moment. “The weather’s hot. There were mosquitoes. I didn’t sleep well.”

It wasn’t yet midsummer—the daytime temperature was about thirty degrees, hot indeed, but the nights were cool, around twenty-three or twenty-four degrees, perfect for sleeping. Certainly not so hot that one couldn’t rest.

Jiang Ji knew full well that the heat was just an excuse. He looked at the dark circles under Jiang Yan’s eyes and said, “Then tonight let’s change the mosquito net.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Zhao Ru thought about it and said, “Jiang Yan, maybe you just aren’t used to having someone else beside you. That’s why you can’t sleep?”

Jiang Yan froze for a second. “…Maybe.”

Jiang Ji gave him a quick glance but said nothing.

“Exactly,” Zhao Ru nodded. “Some people can’t sleep unless it’s a certain bed, and some can’t sleep with someone new next to them. Xiao Ji, switch back tonight. He finally got used to sleeping beside you, and then suddenly you switched to Jiang Bei—it’s no wonder he’s not used to it.”

“Mother, I’m hot,” Jiang Ji said.

Zhao Ru lightly smacked him. “How could it be hot at night this time of year?”

Jiang Ji lifted his chin. “Even Jiang Yan said it was hot.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Jiang Ji continued, “Mother, we’re both grown men, and body temperature runs high. Put two furnaces side by side and tell me it’s not hot.”

Jiang Yan: “…” He never complained about heat before—back when he used to hold Jiang Ji while they slept every night.

Zhao Ru gave Jiang Ji a suspicious look, then turned to Jiang Yan. “You’re hot too?”

Jiang Yan glanced at Jiang Ji, pressed his lips together, and nodded. “…A little.”

Zhao Ru sighed. “Alright then, just bear with it for a few more days. You’ll be moving into the new house soon.”

That afternoon, Jiang Ji still went ahead and redeemed three modern mosquito nets. Translated on hololonovels. The fine, soft gauze was woven so tightly that the mosquito protection was obviously excellent, yet it breathed well and didn’t block the breeze.

“Oh my, this mosquito net is wonderful!” Zhao Ru said in delight. “How do they make this kind of thing?”

Nowadays, whenever Zhao Ru saw something new, she always wanted to study it and see if they could reproduce it themselves.

Their current “mosquito nets” were really more like sheets of cloth—stuffy and airless. They did block mosquitoes, but also blocked airflow, making them hotter. Even the gauze canopies used by rich families didn’t let much air through.

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. “They make these with machines. We could try to make our own, but it won’t come out quite the same.”

“Ah, the things immortals use are always better,” Zhao Ru said wistfully.

After switching to the new nets, the nights were indeed cooler.

The next day at noon, when Zhao Ru and the others came back from the fields, they happened to run into the matchmaker auntie from Mushan Village.

As soon as she saw Zhao Ru, the matchmaker hurried over and grabbed her arm. “Sister, has Jiang Ji thought about getting married yet? Have you talked him into it?”

Jiang Yan glanced her way, his steps slowing as he entered the courtyard.

Zhao Ru shook her head. “There’s nothing to be done about that this year.”

The matchmaker slapped her thigh and sighed. “Ah, such a fine young man—how can he not want to marry?”

Zhao Ru shared the same worry, but since Xiao Ji had been clear about it, she couldn’t force him. Seeing which direction the woman had come from, Zhao Ru asked, “So who are you matchmaking for this time?”

The matchmaker smiled. “Li Dagu’s eldest boy, from down the road.”

“Did it work out?” Zhao Ru asked.

“It did, it did!” The woman’s eyes curved into crescents as she grinned. “You see, their eldest is seventeen—two years younger than your Jiang Ji—and already engaged. The wedding will be in six months. You’d better hurry up.”

Zhao Ru nodded, a bit envious.

The matchmaker left, and not long after, Li Dagu’s wife came by with a piece of meat and a basket of eggs to thank them.

“Take it back, take it back,” Zhao Ru laughed. “You’re the ones getting your son engaged—why are you thanking us? We weren’t the matchmakers.”

Talking about her son’s marriage brought a proud smile to Li Dagu’s wife. “We plan to hold the wedding before the end of the year. Honestly, we have to thank you. We made some money from selling sweet potatoes before, and after helping you sell those rice seeds and getting that silver, once the harvest sells, we’ll have enough saved for the dowry. We’re even planning to build a brick house for them to live in.”

“That’ll be double happiness! Congratulations,” Zhao Ru said with a smile.

“Thank you.” Li Dagu’s wife was truly happy. Then she asked, “And how’s your Jiang Ji doing?”

Zhao Ru smiled and shook her head.

Everyone in the village knew Jiang Ji had turned down the matchmaker before. Li Dagu’s wife tried to comfort her. “Don’t worry. Maybe next year he’ll bring home a pretty bride from the city.”

Now that Jiang Ji’s family was doing well, the villagers all guessed he must be turning up his nose at local girls, planning to marry someone from town.

Zhao Ru said with a small smile, “Let him decide for himself.”

At lunch, Zhao Ru kept stealing glances at her son—one look after another, clearly wanting to say something.

Jiang Ji pretended not to notice and kept eating.

She couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Baoshan’s boy just got engaged,” she said. “They’re planning the wedding before the end of the year.”

Jiang Xia looked up at her brother. Jiang Ji kept eating silently, offering no response.

Jiang Yan also gave him a brief glance.

Jiang Nan asked curiously, “He’s getting married already? Isn’t he younger than you, brother?”

“Mm, two years younger,” Zhao Ru said. Seeing her eldest unmoved, she held back a sigh and added, “Xiao Ji…”

“Mother, we agreed,” Jiang Ji interrupted her. “Let’s not talk about this, alright?”

Zhao Ru paused, then sighed. “Alright.”

Jiang Nan blinked and asked, “Brother, why don’t you want to get married?”

Jiang Ji looked at him, deadpan. “You want a sister-in-law to move in and have one more person making you do your homework?”

Jiang Nan shuddered. “Then maybe don’t get married yet, brother.”

Zhao Ru swatted Jiang Nan’s arm. “What are you talking about? If your brother wants to get married, that’s his business! You just focus on your studies.”

Jiang Nan sneaked a glance at his brother and muttered under his breath, “He’s the one who said he doesn’t want to.”

Zhao Ru picked up a piece of meat and dropped it into his bowl. “Eat your food.”

“Oh.” Jiang Nan immediately started eating, and the moment he tasted the meat, all his childish sulking vanished. He happily munched away.

Watching him, Jiang Ji sighed inwardly. Kids really were lucky—carefree and without a single worry.

…

A couple of days after sowing the new rice seeds, Magistrate Xu sent men to deliver the items Jiang Ji had ordered from the carpenters. They also brought a message: a county messenger had arrived at the office.

Jiang Ji’s eyes lit up. After lunch, he told Zhao Ru he was heading to town—to collect the money and buy some cotton to test his machines.

By now, payments from the counties had been arriving one after another. He had already received silver from thirteen counties, with only two still outstanding.

Jiang Ji went to the county office and collected the silver notes—more than eight thousand taels in total. He stopped by the restaurant on his way out, found everything running smoothly, left a large sack of dried chili peppers, then went to the street to buy two bundles of cotton and began dragging them home.

Halfway along the road, seven or eight men on horseback came charging toward him. They rode fast as the wind, raising a thick cloud of dust in their wake.

Jiang Ji turned his face away, covering his nose with one hand as he kept walking forward.

Horseback riders might look impressive, but they kicked up too much dust.

He hadn’t gone far when the sound of hooves suddenly grew louder again.

Jiang Ji turned his head—those same horsemen had circled back. They stopped right beside him, surrounding him in an instant.

The leader, a burly man with a long scar across his forehead, demanded, “You’re Jiang Ji?”

Jiang Ji glanced at them. Each one had a blade hanging from his belt, and all of them were watching him with sharp eyes. Their clothing and bearing didn’t look like commoners at all—they looked more like bandits.

Not good.

Jiang Ji’s grip on the cart tightened. He blinked and shook his head. “No, I’m Wang Daniu.”

The scarred man frowned and looked back. “Didn’t you say this was Jiang Ji?” he barked.

From behind the last horse poked a skinny man’s head, all bones and no meat. “Boss, he’s lying. That’s him! I’ve been following him for days. I saw him go to the county office and then to Jiang Ji Dining Hall. The waiters there all call him ‘Owner.’”

Jiang Ji’s heart skipped hard. Sensing trouble, he dropped the cart and bolted—darting between two horses and straight into the woods beside the road, sprinting for all he was worth toward the city.

If he could just reach the city gates, there were soldiers stationed there. He’d be safe.

“Get him!”

A shout rang out behind him, followed by pounding hooves and the sound of men giving chase.

Jiang Ji’s heart thudded wildly as he ran, glancing back—those men had dismounted and were now pursuing him on foot.

Damn it, he’d actually run into robbers!

His chest burned, his pulse pounded in his ears. Sure enough, safety in this era was terrible!

Luckily, the forest was dense with trees, too narrow for horses to maneuver. His body, used to fieldwork, was strong—if not, he’d already have been caught.

Drawing on every ounce of strength, Jiang Ji ran for his life, weaving through the forest, circling around a low hill, keeping off the main road entirely.

“He’s heading toward the city!”

“The brat’s clever!”

They were close behind—so close he could hear their footsteps just a few paces away.

After a while, hoofbeats sounded ahead of him.

Jiang Ji looked up—the scar-faced leader had ridden around by the road and cut him off from the front!

The three others behind him were nearly on him. Jiang Ji turned sharply and ran toward the main road, sweat pouring down his face, his legs heavy and trembling, ready to give out.

“Help! Somebody help!” he yelled as he ran, desperate for anyone to hear.

“Help—!”

He stumbled over a tree root and went down hard. Before he could scramble up, one of the men lunged and pinned him to the ground.

Jiang Ji struggled to throw him off, but couldn’t. He grabbed a thick branch about the size of his thumb, swung it backward, and jabbed blindly. The man behind him let out a cry of pain, giving Jiang Ji a chance to twist free and scramble up.

But before he could run, another pursuer leapt onto him, knocking him down again. A second man came up and pressed his shoulders and back to the dirt.

Jiang Ji: “…”

Done for. Caught after all.

“Brothers, you’ve got the wrong man,” Jiang Ji said between ragged breaths. “I’m not the one you’re looking for.”

“Then why’d you run?!” one of them shouted, cuffing him hard on the head. “Lying to us, are you?!”

“…” Jiang Ji hissed in pain. “I—I panicked! Just instinct, that’s all!”

“Looks to me like you’ve got plenty of nerve!” another snapped. “Tie him up!”

“Hey, wait—wait! Brothers, we’ve got no feud between us. Why are you tying me up?”

The men grabbed him, twisting his arms behind his back, binding his wrists and ankles with rope, then tying his arms to his body as well.

Sitting on the ground, Jiang Ji looked at them, his mind racing. Were they after money?

The scarred leader crouched in front of him and gave his face a few mocking pats. “Run again, go on. Why aren’t you running now?”

Jiang Ji quickly shook his head. “Not running. Not running.”

The man sneered. “Heard you’ve made a fortune lately. We’re a little short on cash ourselves, so we thought we’d borrow some silver from you.”

So it was about money. Jiang Ji looked at their uncovered faces—bold as anything. Not wearing masks meant trouble. If he’d seen their faces, would they really let him live?

His fists clenched tight. His voice shook slightly. “B-big brother, I’ll give you money. I have silver notes in my bag. Let me go, alright?”

The scar-faced man tilted his head toward one of his men. The man beside Jiang Ji reached into his robe to search.

“…No, not there,” Jiang Ji said, tilting his chin toward the right. “It’s under my belt.”

The man lifted his tunic and saw a square bundle.

He tugged at it but couldn’t pull it free, only jerking Jiang Ji forward.

Jiang Ji said, “Brother, why don’t you untie me and I’ll help you?”

The man gave him a look, then drew a dagger from his boot and sliced the strap clean through.

Jiang Ji: “…”

The bag was leather, fastened with a zipper. The man stared at it for a while before figuring out how to open it. Inside were the silver notes Jiang Ji had just collected—over eight thousand taels in all.

“There’s more than eight thousand taels, Boss.”

The scarred man gave the bundle a glance, stood up, and said, “Bag him and move out. Lao San, after we’re gone, find someone to deliver the message. Be careful.”

“Yes, Boss!”

Hearing that, Jiang Ji panicked. “Hey, big brother, you can take the silver—just let me go!”

“Only this much? You think we’re beggars?” The scarred man patted Jiang Ji’s face with mock gentleness. “Didn’t you sell seeds to more than ten counties? Tell your family to bring the ransom.”

Jiang Ji shouted desperately, “I’ll take you there! I’ll give you everything! Just let me live!”

“What, go to your village so they can surround us? You think I’m stupid?”

The scar-faced man snatched a strip of rag from one of his men and shoved it into Jiang Ji’s mouth. Another man pulled out a burlap sack and threw it over Jiang Ji’s head.

Jiang Ji: “!” This was it—he was done for.

“Move!”

One of the men slung Jiang Ji over his shoulder. After walking a short distance, he threw him across a horse’s back.

A moment later, the group rode out of the forest at full gallop.

*

The sun was setting, its glow fading behind the fields. Jiang Xia had driven the ox home to start cooking, while Zhao Ru and Jiang Yan were still watering the vegetables—almost finished.

Suddenly, a man came running from the country road, panting as he reached the village entrance. “Is—is this the village where Jiang Ji’s family lives? He’s in trouble!”

At once, people stopped what they were doing. “What happened to him?” someone shouted.

“He’s been kidnapped! Someone told me to bring a letter to his family! Hurry, take me to his house!”

“What? Kidnapped?!” A villager dropped his hoe and ran from the field. “Come with me!”

As they ran, the man shouted, “Zhao Ru! Jiang Yan! Jiang Ji’s in trouble—come quick!”

Everyone in the fields turned to look.

Zhao Ru froze for an instant, but Jiang Yan dropped his ladle and bolted.

“What happened to him?!” Jiang Yan sprinted up the road. “What’s going on?!”

The messenger, gasping for breath, held out a letter. “I was just walking down the road when a man on horseback held a knife to my neck and told me to deliver this.”

Jiang Yan snatched the letter, unfolded it, and his expression darkened instantly.

Zhao Ru ran up, panic flooding her voice. “What happened to Xiao Ji? Jiang Yan, what does it say?”

“Jiang Ji’s been kidnapped,” Jiang Yan said in a low, hard voice. “They want us to bring silver to ransom him.”

At those words, Zhao Ru’s vision went black. Her knees gave out and she nearly collapsed.

“Auntie!” Jiang Yan caught her quickly, hoisted her onto his back, and ran toward the house. “Uncle Tugen! Go call the village chief and the elders! And you, the messenger—come with me!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll go right now!” Uncle Tugen, who had been working in the neighboring field, dropped everything and dashed off to find the chief.

Other villagers, hearing the commotion, came running from all directions toward Jiang Ji’s home, including the messenger.

“Jiang Yan, put me down,” Zhao Ru said weakly once she’d caught her breath.

“Auntie, don’t worry yet,” Jiang Yan said, carrying her into the house and setting her down.

Jiang Xia and the younger brothers, Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei, saw him carrying their mother and panicked.

“Brother Jiang Yan, what’s wrong with Mother?” Jiang Nan cried.

“I’m fine—it’s your brother who’s in trouble,” Zhao Ru said, clutching Jiang Yan’s arm, tears welling up in her eyes. “Jiang Yan, where have they taken Xiao Ji? Is he hurt? How much do they want? We have money—I’ll pay it!”

Villagers were crowding in now.

Jiang Xia and the younger boys stared blankly. “What happened to our brother?”

“Your brother’s been kidnapped. They’re demanding ransom,” one villager explained.

The three siblings froze. Jiang Nan burst into tears. “Brother…”

The house erupted into chaos—villagers talking over one another, Jiang Nan sobbing uncontrollably, the noise overwhelming.

“Quiet!” Jiang Yan barked.

Everyone fell silent at once. Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei clung to Jiang Xia’s arms, frightened into stillness.

“Auntie, please calm down first,” Jiang Yan said, steadying Zhao Ru. Then he turned to the messenger. “Uncle, did the man who gave you the letter say anything else?”

The man shook his head. “Only that if you report to the authorities, they’ll cut off one of Jiang Ji’s arms. That’s all. Then he rode off.”

Zhao Ru trembled violently. “No, no reporting. We won’t report it.”

A cold edge crept across Jiang Yan’s face, his eyes flashing with a dangerous glint.

“How many of them were there?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” the man said. “I only saw the one who gave me the message. He was masked—I could only see his eyes.”

Soon, the village chief and the clan elders arrived, all equally alarmed after hearing the news.

“Village chief, please wait a moment,” Jiang Yan said.

He led Zhao Ru into a room, closed the door, and said in a low voice, “Auntie, they’re asking for a hundred thousand taels. Give me the silver. I’ll go pay the ransom.”

“I’ll go too,” Zhao Ru said, frantic. She only wanted to get her son back as soon as possible.

Jiang Yan had calmed down now, his tone firm and steady. “No, Auntie. You have to stay home. Jiang Xia and the boys need you here. I’ll go find Lord Xu and ask for help. I can ride.”

“No! We can’t tell the officials!” Zhao Ru shook her head wildly. “They’ll hurt Xiao Ji!”

Jiang Yan gripped her arm, speaking quickly but rationally. “Auntie, listen to me. The letter says the meeting place is sixty or seventy li away, near the border between Changping and Huawen counties—only twenty or thirty li from Skull Mountain. They have horses, and they already took Jiang Ji ahead of time, which means there are at least two of them. If I’m right, the ones who took him are probably the bandits from Skull Ridge.”

“Skull Mountain… bandits?!”

The moment Zhao Ru heard the name, her face went pale. Those were the very outlaws who terrorized both Huawen and Changping counties—the ones even the county office couldn’t handle.

Jiang Yan nodded. “So, if there were only one or two of them, I’m confident I could bring Jiang Ji back myself. But if they really are bandits from Skull Ridge, there’s no way it’s just a couple of men—it must be an entire gang. If we don’t report it, neither Jiang Ji nor I might come back alive.”

Zhao Ru was still anxious. “But what if they see the soldiers…”

“I’ll work it out with the magistrate. They won’t see the soldiers coming,” Jiang Yan said firmly, his hands gripping Zhao Ru’s shoulders. “Auntie, trust me. I’ll bring Jiang Ji back alive.”

Zhao Ru’s mind was in chaos, but when she saw the calm determination in his eyes, she couldn’t help but believe him. She had no choice but to.

“Auntie, give me the silver first.”

“Alright… it’s—it’s under your bed.”

Zhao Ru bent down and dragged out a black cloth bundle. Because all the funds hadn’t been collected yet, Jiang Ji had told her not to bury them until everything was gathered. She’d planned to dig a pit beneath their bed for a lockbox once it was complete.

She went to her room to fetch the key, her hands trembling as she entered the code and turned the lock. Inside was a wooden chest.

Jiang Yan opened his own pack, took out the jade pendant Jiang Ji had given him, and placed it under his pillow. “How much is in here?” he asked.

“One hundred and five thousand taels.”

Jiang Yan took out five thousand and packed the rest into his bag.

After Zhao Ru put the lockbox back in place, Jiang Yan opened the door.

Everyone in the house looked toward them.

“Mother,” Jiang Xia called, leading Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei forward. “Brother Jiang Yan.”

Jiang Yan patted the younger boys’ heads. “Don’t be afraid.”

Then he turned to the village chief. “Village Chief, uncles—please help look after the house while I go ransom Jiang Ji.”

The chief nodded. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of things here.”

Jiang Yan nodded again. “Chief, please gather the strong men from the village to patrol tonight. Tomorrow, Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei shouldn’t go to school. Everyone should stay in the village until we return.”

The chief hesitated. “You think they might come here?”

“Just in case.”

“Alright. I’ll take care of it.” The chief then asked, “Are you going to report this to the officials?”

“I’ll speak to Magistrate Xu and have him send men to the village. Please cooperate with them when they arrive,” Jiang Yan said.

Hearing that officials would be involved, everyone breathed a little easier. The village chief said, “Go, then.”

Jiang Yan nodded and turned to the messenger. “Uncle, where did you meet that man?”

“About three li down the main road outside your village. I’m from Lishu Village, that way.”

Jiang Yan nodded, then looked at Zhao Ru. “I’ll bring him back alive.”

He turned and ran out.

Zhao Ru’s tears spilled over. “Jiang Yan, you all come back safely!” she cried after him.

On the main road, Jiang Yan quickly spotted the trail of hoofprints—passing from west to east, then back west again. Judging from the prints, there had been seven or eight horses.

He followed them to the spot the messenger had mentioned and found a cluster of chaotic hoof marks—the man hadn’t lied.

Jiang Yan kept running, examining the ground as he went. A mile or two ahead, he came across a broken handcart by the roadside—the same one Jiang Ji had dragged out that morning. The grass nearby was trampled flat. It seemed Jiang Ji had run into the woods from here and been caught shortly after.

Two miles from the city, the hoofprints veered off and disappeared into the forest ahead.

Jiang Yan immediately deduced that the kidnappers had split up—some circling ahead to cut him off.

Jiang Ji hadn’t tried to run home; he’d been heading for the city to find the guards.

Realizing this, Jiang Yan stopped tracking and sprinted straight into town toward the county office.

After hearing what happened, Magistrate Xu’s face drained of color.

“Kidnapped?”

“Yes, this is the note they left,” Jiang Yan said, handing it over.

Magistrate Xu read it, his expression hardening. “Do you know who did it?”

“I suspect it’s the Skull Mountain bandits,” Jiang Yan replied, watching the magistrate’s face carefully.

“What?” Magistrate Xu’s eyes widened. “Why do you think that?”

Jiang Yan explained everything—the messenger’s account and the traces he’d found on the road.

“My lord, I’d like to request soldiers to help me rescue Jiang Ji.”

“Of course.” Magistrate Xu called out, “Fetch Captain Zhou at once.”

Before long, County Captain Zhou Lin arrived.

Magistrate Xu briefed him, and Jiang Yan went over the clues again.

Zhou Lin nodded. “Your reasoning makes sense, Jiang Yan. I’ll gather the men and set out immediately.”

“Wait, Captain Zhou.” Jiang Yan stopped him, his tone firm. “You can’t approach them openly. I don’t want Jiang Ji hurt.”

Zhou looked at him seriously. “If they really are Skull Mountain bandits, we’ll be lucky to bring him back alive at all.”

“I know,” Jiang Yan said solemnly. “But I want to minimize the risk as much as possible.”

“How do you propose we do that?”

“Do you have a map?”

“Yes.”

They spread one out. Zhou pointed to the spot mentioned in the ransom note. “This is Turtle Ridge—named for its shape. It’s not high, but there are roads on three sides, easy for escape. About four li west from here is Huawen County, and another twenty li beyond that is Skull Mountain. That’s probably why they chose it for the exchange.”

Jiang Yan studied the map, thinking for a moment. Then he traced a line across it with his finger. “Captain Zhou, how long would it take your men to circle around this way?”

“There’s no proper road there—horses can’t get through. At night, it’ll take at least half an hour.”

Jiang Yan nodded. “Alright. Here’s what we’ll do…”

They discussed the plan for a while. Zhou gathered the county soldiers, sending five men to Shanquan Village while the rest prepared to move out together.

Jiang Yan took a horse and rode ahead.

The mountain wind howled past his face, sharp and cold. His brows and lashes seemed carved from frost, his eyes like blades—clear, focused, and deadly calm.

Jiang Ji, don’t be afraid. Wait for me.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Thandar: Huh the usual damsel in distress trope.

When Jiang Ji woke up, the first thing he saw was a wall. He blinked blankly for a few seconds before remembering that he had switched beds with Jiang Bei the night before. Jiang Nan’s foot was now resting right next to his stomach.

He stared at the wall for a moment in a daze, then got up. As he was changing clothes, he heard movement from the other bed. Without turning around, he put on his shirt and went out.

Zhao Ru was already up, tending the fire and cooking breakfast.

After relieving himself, Jiang Ji stepped out of the latrine and ran into Jiang Yan at the doorway. Jiang Yan looked as though he hadn’t slept well; faint red veins traced the corners of his eyes.

“You didn’t sleep well?”

Jiang Yan glanced at him and said softly, “No.”

“Did Jiang Bei kick you?”

“No.” Jiang Yan lowered his voice. “Just not used to it.”

Jiang Ji paused for a moment, then said, “You’ll get used to it in a few days. We’ll probably be able to move in half a month. Go catch up on sleep—I’ll go pick lettuce and peppers in the fields.”

“I can’t sleep. Already awake.”

“Oh. Then go fetch water later.”

“Alright.”

As Jiang Yan came out of the latrine, he saw Jiang Ji hauling a handcart toward the village entrance.

For the past few days, Jiang Ji had been too busy selling rice seeds to make deliveries himself—Han Qingshan had sent people instead. Yesterday, Jiang Ji had said he would do the delivery himself today.

The lettuce in the field was lush and dewy. Jiang Ji picked the biggest heads, sliced off the roots with a knife, and laid them neatly into baskets. Before long, he had filled three of them.

The chili field was right next door, and he harvested a full basket of green peppers too. A few other villagers were nearby picking their own vegetables for market.

“Jiang Ji, your watermelons look huge already! Are they ripe yet? Ready to sell soon?” a nearby auntie called out.

“Not yet,” Jiang Ji shouted back. “Give it another ten days or so.”

“With that many watermelons, you’re sure to get a good price when they ripen!”

“Thanks for the blessing.”

“Next year, can you sell me some watermelon and pepper seeds?”

“Sure thing.”

When he got back for breakfast, Jiang Bei looked groggy and asked, “Big brother, how come I woke up on your bed?”

“I switched with you,” Jiang Ji said, taking a sip of porridge.

“Huh?” Jiang Bei blinked. “Why switch?”

“It’s too hot. Two grown men sharing a bed—fine in winter, unbearable in summer.”

Jiang Yan glanced at him but said nothing, his gaze dropping slightly.

“Oh,” Jiang Bei said, still puzzled. “Didn’t you say we kick you in our sleep?”

Jiang Ji replied solemnly, “Being kicked by Jiang Nan is still easier to endure than this heat.”

Jiang Nan, innocently dragged into the conversation, protested, “…Brother, I didn’t kick you.”

“You sure?” Jiang Ji raised a brow.

Jiang Nan stretched his neck defensively. “I didn’t! I don’t even remember.”

Jiang Ji snorted. “You sleep so deep a thief could haul you off and you wouldn’t notice.”

“Who says that!” Jiang Nan huffed. “I’m not like Jiang Bei—he got carried off and didn’t even know it.”

Jiang Bei: “…” It was true he’d been moved last night without waking up, so he couldn’t argue.

Zhao Ru laughed, breaking them up. “Alright, enough. Once we move, everyone will have their own room. Then you can sleep however you like.”

“Yeah, just a few more days,” Jiang Ji said. After a pause, he added, “By the way, I’m staying in town tonight. Lots to handle—I’ll come back tomorrow.”

At that, Jiang Yan looked up from his bowl, but Jiang Ji kept his head down, still eating.

“Is there a lot going on at the restaurant? You won’t come home to sleep?” Zhao Ru asked.

“Yeah. I’ll finish up and come back. The day after tomorrow we’ll start soaking the rice for planting, so Mother, dry the seeds these next two days.”

“Alright,” Zhao Ru nodded.

Finishing his porridge, Jiang Ji wiped his mouth and stood. “I’m off. Remind the village head to spread out the rice seeds for drying.”

“Got it,” Zhao Ru replied.

Jiang Yan watched him walk through the main hall, his brows tightening faintly.

The whole morning, aside from that brief talk by the latrine, Jiang Ji hadn’t spoken another word to him.

Jiang Ji grabbed his pencil, eraser, and ruler from the hall, wrapped them in paper, tucked them into the pepper basket, and set off to town with the vegetables.

He first stopped at the restaurant, dropping the produce in the back courtyard. The manager had it weighed and noted in the ledger for month-end payment.

After a quick drink of water, Jiang Ji went to the county office to inform Magistrate Xu that they could start preparing the second rice crop for sowing. Magistrate Xu would relay the notice to the villages. Then Jiang Ji stopped by a shop to buy a stack of blank paper before retreating to the workroom to sketch.

He began with designs for the kitchen staff’s uniforms. To suit their modest sensibilities, men’s uniforms were short-sleeved, open-front shirts with calf-length pants; women’s had mid-length sleeves and ankle-length pants. After some thought, he added a diagonal-collar version too.

For the waiters, who faced customers, he drew three-quarter sleeves with ankle-length pants.

He called the manager and some of the waiters over, bringing the sketches to the kitchen.

Inside, everyone was busy—the rice was steaming, soups were simmering, and two tables of early guests were already seated. Han Qingshan and Yu Yang were at the stoves, and even with the windows open, the heat was oppressive. Sweat beaded on their foreheads; the roast duck station was worse still.

When Han Qingshan finished plating a dish, Jiang Ji called out, “Hold on a moment—everyone, come over here.”

They gathered under the cool shade by the washing shed. Jiang Ji lifted his sketches. “It’s too hot in summer, so I’ve drawn some new uniform designs. Look—kitchen staff sleeves end here, pants below the knees. No more belts, just looser fit so it’s cooler…”

He went over each point carefully. “Take a look—any objections?”

Everyone exchanged glances. They thought Jiang Ji was being awfully bold—showing that much arm and leg? Weren’t they afraid people would say it was improper?

Han Qingshan was the one who finally asked, “Young master, won’t the pants and sleeves be too short?”

“Too short?” Jiang Ji pointed at his sleeves. “Don’t you all roll up your sleeves when you’re cooking? And your pant legs—when our villagers work in the fields, they also roll them up to about the knees.”

He spoke earnestly, “The kitchen’s full of smoke and heat, and this is mainly to prevent you from getting heatstroke in the summer. Look at all that sweat on your heads—by the end of the day your clothes are soaked through. It’s easy to get sick that way. You all rarely go out of the kitchen anyway, so don’t worry about what others say. Staying cool is the most important. The servers’ uniforms are different since they face customers—I’ve changed theirs to three-quarter sleeves, about the length you usually roll them to.”

He then asked, “Also, for the women’s uniforms, would you prefer the open-front design or the cross-collar one? The open-front should be looser and cooler.”

The restaurant’s female staff were all from the kitchen—eight in total. Three were hired from outside to wash dishes, prepare vegetables, and clean, while the other four were women Jiang Ji had brought back from the broker’s house, plus Xiang’er.

Guihua looked at the drawings and said, “I want the cooler one.”

She was one of the cooks, and it was indeed unbearably hot. Every day at noon her clothes were soaked, which was very uncomfortable.

“I want the cooler one too,” another auntie said.

After that, everyone else voiced their agreement. Jiang Ji counted, “Majority rules—it’ll be the open-front then.”

“In short, comfort comes first. I just wanted to let you all know. If people talk, let’s just call it the restaurant’s signature style.”

Everyone froze for a moment, but when they thought about how Jiang Ji was doing this to make them more comfortable, they felt touched.

Jiang Ji handed the sketches to the manager. “Find a tailor and have him take everyone’s measurements. Tell him to make them loose and cool.”

“Alright,” the manager said, and went off to find a tailor.

Jiang Ji looked at Guihua and the others, thought for a moment, then went to the market to find some people from his village. He sent a message home for his mother.

That afternoon, Zhao Ru arrived at the restaurant carrying a bundle and found Jiang Ji. “Why did you ask me to bring this?” she asked.

“Mother, I want you to teach Sister Guihua and the others how to make this kind of undergarment. They work in the kitchen and sweat a lot, and thin clothes aren’t convenient,” Jiang Ji said.

“Oh, so that’s what this is about.” Zhao Ru nodded with a smile. “Alright. Are they on break now? Have them come in, and I’ll show them.”

Jiang Ji called the women into a room and left them there, taking his own drawings and tools to the main hall.

When Guihua and the others entered, they greeted Zhao Ru politely.

Guihua asked, “Madam, did you call for us?”

Zhao Ru smiled. “Yes, have a seat, I’ll tell you what it’s about.”

They all sat around the table. Zhao Ru opened the bundle she’d brought and said, “Xiao Ji asked me to come teach you to make clothing.”

“The young master asked you to teach us sewing?” Guihua asked in surprise.

“Yes, this kind.” Zhao Ru took an undergarment from the bundle. “This is an undergarment, worn underneath. That way, even in summer, you won’t need to worry about awkwardness.”

At her words, both the married and unmarried women immediately understood.

Seeing their expressions, Zhao Ru said, “See here, it has padding made of cotton inside. I’m wearing one myself right now. Even if I sweat a lot, it’s fine, and I don’t have to bind my chest so tightly that I can hardly breathe.”

She demonstrated how to wear it.

Guihua picked one up, a little embarrassed but delighted. “This really is nice.”

“It’s simple to make,” Zhao Ru said warmly. “Once I show you, you’ll all be able to do it. When you go home, make some for yourselves.”

“Thank you, madam,” they all said.

Since their break wasn’t long, Zhao Ru quickly showed them how to cut and sew it, and left Guihua with a sample piece as a pattern.

When work resumed that afternoon, Zhao Ru returned home, and Guihua specially went to thank Jiang Ji.

None of them had expected their young master to be so thoughtful—sending his mother personally to teach them—and they were deeply moved.

Among the purchased servants, Guihua was the oldest. She led the group in bowing. “Thank you, young master.”

“No need. Go back to work,” Jiang Ji said with a wave of his hand, returning to his room to continue drawing.

Once the house was finished, the next step would be to build the factory. Besides the factory layout, he also needed to draw plans for a foot-operated cotton gin, a spinning machine, and a loom.

He had already completed the general layout of the factory and planned to discuss the rest with Master Zheng.

So he claimed the reward for completing the sweet potato promotion mission—blueprints for three types of machines.

He had thought it would be just one drawing, but to his surprise, the system gave him an entire set: from simple hand-cranked spinning wheels to multi-spindle Jenny spinning frames, from basic looms to complex jacquard looms.

Jiang Ji’s eyes lit up. “2977, you actually did something right for once.”

He flipped through the blueprints, then suddenly realized something. Knowing the system’s stingy habits, he suspected there might be a catch. “Hey, 2977, can I use all of these blueprints, or just one of each type?”

【All of these blueprints can be used by the host.】

Jiang Ji was startled. “Really? No usage limits? Don’t tell me once I use one, the rest disappear.”

【The host may use them freely.】

Jiang Ji’s voice rose. “Seriously? So if I use the foot-pedal loom blueprint, I can still use the jacquard loom later? You’re sure?”

【Confirmed.】

At that, Jiang Ji slapped his thigh in excitement. “Perfect!”

Although all of them could be used, Jiang Ji certainly wouldn’t build every single one. If he was going to pick, he might as well choose the best and most practical.

After thinking for a while, he realized that since cotton production was still low, most people were wearing coarse linen. Linen was durable, but rough on the skin—nothing like the comfort of cotton fabric.

He planned to start by using the foot-operated loom to quickly produce simple cotton cloth for everyday people.

The most profitable option, of course, would be cloud brocade woven from silk worth its weight in gold. But there weren’t many silkworm farmers in their region; most were in the eastern provinces.

In any case, productivity in this dynasty lagged far behind that of the ancient era from his past life. There were plenty of opportunities to make money—he’d start with the low-end market first, then move upward to the high-end one step at a time.

Jiang Ji first claimed the blueprints for the foot-powered cotton gin, the Jenny spinning machine, and the foot-pedal loom.

Building a factory would require a large number of machines, which he couldn’t possibly make alone. So he drew each machine’s parts separately, scrambled and divided them into sections, and assigned different carpenters to work on each. The most critical components he would make himself—this way it would be both faster and more secure.

“2977, can these blueprint measurements be converted into the units used in this era?”

【The host may freely choose to convert length units.】

“Huh? There’s an option for that? I didn’t see it before.” Jiang Ji searched around the interface, finally finding the conversion button. He switched the measurements into local units so the carpenters could read them more easily.

He spent the entire afternoon drafting. After returning home that evening and washing up, he continued working until late into the night. Just before going to bed, he finally finished.

The next day, he took the blueprints to the county office to meet the carpenters.

When Magistrate Xu heard he had arrived, he said, “You’ve come at just the right time—I was about to send for you.”

Jiang Ji asked curiously, “Magistrate Xu, do you need me for something?”

“Two counties’ messengers have brought payment for the rice seeds. I was just about to call you. The money’s in the main hall—go collect it.”

“Oh, alright, I’ll go right now.”

Jiang Ji went first to collect the payment for the seed sales. He always carried the debt slips with him, knowing the payments would start coming in over the next few days.

He had already arranged with the various county offices that the payments would be in province-wide silver notes, and indeed, that was what the messengers brought.

After verifying the amounts with them, he returned the slips—accounts settled on both sides.

He tucked the silver notes into the small pouch he kept hidden under his clothes.

When he finished, Magistrate Xu asked, “So, did you come here for something?”

“No, just personal business. I came to find the carpenters,” Jiang Ji replied, walking toward the woodworking courtyard.

Magistrate Xu followed him and saw the blueprints in his hand. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

Jiang Ji grinned. “A secret.”

Magistrate Xu glared at him. “Keeping secrets from me, are you?”

“You’ll see once it’s done,” Jiang Ji said, then turned to the carpenters. “Magistrate Xu, how long will it take the masters to finish? I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

The city’s best carpenters were already working on threshing and winnowing machines, as well as water pumps. Lord Chen needed finished samples to send to the provincial inspector.

Magistrate Xu had distributed those blueprints widely—most villages had at least a few woodworkers, and the designs were detailed enough that anyone with skill could replicate them with time.

“It’ll still take a few more days,” Magistrate Xu said. “The prefecture and provincial offices both placed orders.”

“Can I cut in line?” Jiang Ji asked. “It’s not much work—they could finish mine in a day or two. I’ll pay for it.”

These days, Magistrate Xu looked at Jiang Ji as if he were made of gold. Curious to see what he was up to this time, he readily agreed. “Fine, I’ll make arrangements for you.”

Once Magistrate Xu gave the word, Jiang Ji happily distributed his blueprints among the carpenters.

“I’ve already marked all the measurements, quantities, and wood types. Thank you, masters. Please keep the drawings safe—I’ll need them back later.”

After wrapping that up, Jiang Ji went to buy a complete set of woodworking tools and a batch of lumber at the timber market. He returned home together with the deliverymen.

When he got back, Zhao Ru and Jiang Yan were still out working in the fields. Jiang Ji cleared out half the main hall, and the lumberyard’s helpers carried all the wood inside.

After sending them off, he opened his system menu. He had previously earned three skill-learning charts—now it was time to use them.

“2977, can I use the advanced chart to learn carpentry directly?”

【No. All skills must be learned progressively from basic to advanced. The system advises the host to remain grounded and advance step by step.】

“…Fine.”

In the livestream, viewers asked about the result, and Jiang Ji recounted it vividly.

【Hahaha, trying to skip straight to the advanced skill, huh? You thought you could learn three skills with three charts?】
【You can’t get fat from one bite, streamer!】
【Dream on, man.】

Jiang Ji chuckled and sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Can’t exploit the system’s bugs. I’ll behave.”

Then he started from the beginner-level chart and chose carpentry.

Instantly, the knowledge of woodworking poured into his mind. He spent two minutes sorting through it before beginning to make the machine parts from the blueprints.

Not long after, Jiang Yan and Zhao Ru returned home.

They’d already seen him hauling the lumber back when he passed through the village.

“Xiao Ji, why’d you buy so much wood?” Zhao Ru asked curiously, seeing the piles stacked in the main hall.

Jiang Ji replied, “For the looms and such. Once the new house is done, we’ll start building the factory. I need the looms ready and tested to make sure they work well before building the rest.”

“Oh? You’re making them yourself?” Zhao Ru asked. “Not hiring carpenters?”

“I did hire them. I went to the county office today and gave them the parts list. They’ll handle those while I make the remaining ones here. When everything’s done, I’ll assemble it myself.”

“You know carpentry now?”

Jiang Ji nodded. “I’ve learned it.”

Zhao Ru thought for a moment. “Alright then, you do that. I’ll go make dinner.”

Jiang Ji measured a piece of wood against the blueprint. Jiang Yan watched him for a while, then washed his hands in the kitchen and came over. “Need help?”

Without looking up, Jiang Ji drew a line and shook his head. “No need, it’s not much.”

Jiang Yan’s fingers twitched slightly, but he said nothing and went out to the yard to turn over the grain for drying.

When he stepped out of the main hall, Jiang Ji looked up at his back. After two breaths, he withdrew his gaze and went back to work.

After the midday rest, Jiang Ji continued woodworking at home while Jiang Yan and the others went back to the fields.

By the time they washed up before bed that night, Jiang Ji had finished four or five parts. Two others lay on the ground, ruined when he lost focus.

Jiang Yan went to bathe. Jiang Ji sat in the courtyard, gazing at the stars and cooling off in the night breeze.

He was lost in thought when Jiang Yan came out from his bath, carrying a stool, and sat beside him.

“You’re done? Then I’ll go wash.”

Jiang Ji was about to stand when Jiang Yan suddenly grabbed his wrist.

“Wait.”

Jiang Ji looked down at him. “What is it?”

Jiang Yan raised his eyes, his gaze fixed steadily on Jiang Ji’s face. “Let’s talk.”

Jiang Ji paused, then sat back down. “Talk about what?”

“Since yesterday,” Jiang Yan said quietly, “you’ve only spoken nine sentences to me.”

Jiang Ji hesitated, his eyes flickering as he looked aside. Then he smiled lightly. “Really? I didn’t notice. I’ve just been busy these two days.”

Jiang Yan continued to look at him, saying nothing.

The silence between them grew heavy, and Jiang Ji began to feel uneasy. “Is there something else? If not, I’ll just—”

“Why did you switch beds with Jiang Bei?”

“Ah?” Jiang Ji blinked, caught off guard. “I told you—it’s too hot.”

“Really?” Jiang Yan asked softly.

“Of course it’s true,” Jiang Ji said, his voice slightly raised. “What else would it be?”

“Jiang Ji,” Jiang Yan said quietly, his eyes calm and cold, “you’re lying. You’ve been deliberately avoiding talking to me.”

“…”

“You’re distancing yourself from me,” he added.

Jiang Ji rubbed his nose. “…You’re overthinking it.”

Jiang Yan’s tone dropped low, almost gentle. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“…” Jiang Ji sighed, then turned to look at him. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, and I’m not avoiding you.”

“I want the truth,” Jiang Yan said.

Jiang Ji looked at him for a long moment, then turned his gaze to the scattered stars overhead. After a while, he spoke softly. “I’m trying to avoid making you uncomfortable.”

Jiang Yan frowned slightly. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

But deep down, in his subconscious, he was. He resisted Jiang Ji’s closeness without realizing it.

Jiang Ji looked back into his eyes, but the dim starlight made it hard to see clearly.

After a long silence, Jiang Ji looked away, stood up, and said, “If that’s really the case, then good. I’ll be careful. It’s late—get some rest. I’m going to wash up.”

Jiang Yan caught his wrist again. Jiang Ji looked down at the hand gripping him, sighed inwardly, and said quietly, “Jiang Yan, you know I like men. It’s better if we keep some distance—for both our sakes.”

Jiang Yan froze.

Taking advantage of the pause, Jiang Ji pulled his hand free and waved lightly. “Go to bed early.”

Jiang Yan watched his retreating figure, his dark eyes growing even deeper in the night.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

The midsummer heat was already sweltering by the time Jiang Ji and the others returned home, drenched in sweat.

He gulped down two big cups of water, wiped himself with cold water, yet still felt unbearably hot.

In this era, clothes were the same in summer and winter—long sleeves and a tight belt wrapped snugly around the waist. It was suffocatingly warm.

Zhao Ru had gone to tend the cattle. Jiang Ji rummaged through the bottom of the wardrobe and found two old thin summer shirts, grabbed a pair of scissors, and snip snip—cut the sleeves clean off.

Jiang Yan frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Fixing my clothes. It’s too hot,” Jiang Ji replied without looking up, cutting off the other sleeve before stripping off the one he was wearing and changing into his newly made short-sleeved shirt.

Jiang Yan glanced once, then quickly looked away.

Once Jiang Ji had changed, he let out a sigh of relief. “Much cooler.”

Jiang Yan looked over—Jiang Ji’s forearms were now bare, pale on top and tanned below. He frowned. “You’re going out dressed like that?”

“Why not?” Jiang Ji raised an eyebrow.

“People might talk,” Jiang Yan said evenly.

“Let them. Better that than heatstroke.” Jiang Ji looked at him, still buttoned up and proper. “Aren’t you hot? Want me to cut yours too?”

“No need. I’m fine.”

Jiang Ji’s gaze drifted to the sweat beading on his forehead. “…Don’t pretend you’re not. You’re sweating.”

“It’s nothing.” Jiang Yan’s eyes moved to Jiang Ji’s loose, unbuttoned collar that exposed his collarbones and part of his chest. “Your collar’s open.”

Jiang Ji looked down—indeed, it wasn’t just open, he’d even tugged it wider to fan himself with the fabric.

Jiang Yan: “…”

Seeing his expression, Jiang Ji laughed. “It’s hot. If it weren’t daytime and people might drop by, I’d be wearing just a vest and shorts.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Realizing words were useless, Jiang Yan walked over, reached out, and pulled Jiang Ji’s collar closed, tugging the hem tight to secure it.

The moment Jiang Ji’s neck had finally cooled down, it was covered again.

“…Brother,” Jiang Ji sighed helplessly, “I’m really hot. My head’s spinning.”

He had already drunk some wine at lunch, his body temperature running higher than usual—and now, bundled up like this, he felt even worse.

Jiang Yan said calmly, “You’re dizzy because you drank too much. Go lie down.”

He took Jiang Ji by the arm and guided him up. “Go rest.”

Jiang Ji truly felt lightheaded, so he lay down on the bed, eyes half-closed. “You drank too, don’t you want to rest a bit?”

“I’m not dizzy,” Jiang Yan said quietly. “You sleep. I’ll go check the fields.”

“Oh, fine,” Jiang Ji mumbled, tugging his collar open again and pulling off his belt. The neckline fell wide open, and he let out a sigh of relief.

Jiang Yan’s brow twitched—he reached out and pulled the collar back up.

Still half-asleep, Jiang Ji caught his wrist. “It’s so hot. Don’t pull it up again—I need to cool down.”

Jiang Yan glanced at his own hand but didn’t move it. “At least cover your stomach, or you’ll catch a chill.”

Jiang Ji mumbled, placing a lazy hand over his stomach, his voice growing faint. “Covered…”

A moment later, he went completely still—fast asleep.

Jiang Yan: “…”

After waiting a bit, Jiang Yan carefully withdrew his hand. Seeing the wide expanse of exposed skin at Jiang Ji’s chest, he pulled the fabric up a little, then draped the edge of a bedsheet over his stomach before quietly leaving.

Jiang Ji woke after sleeping for half an hour. When he got up, Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei were already home from school, playing with their friends at the courtyard gate.

The moment they saw their elder brother step out, they greeted him—and froze.

“Brother, where are your sleeves?” Jiang Nan asked, puzzled.

“I cut them off,” Jiang Ji replied.

Jiang Bei blinked. “Why’d you cut off the sleeves?”

“It’s hot. This way’s cooler.” Jiang Ji looked at their flushed faces and sweaty foreheads. “Aren’t you hot, running around like that?”

“Hot,” Jiang Nan admitted, wiping his sweat with his sleeve.

“Then why keep running?” Jiang Ji asked with all the gravity of a philosopher. “Have you done your homework yet?”

Jiang Nan: “…We just got back.”

“Then hurry and do it while there’s still daylight. You can play after.”

Jiang Nan muttered, “By the time we finish, it’ll be dark. How’re we supposed to play then?”

Jiang Ji raised a brow, and Jiang Bei, sensing danger, quickly grabbed his brother’s hand. “We’re going now! Jiang Nan, come on—we’ve already played for a while, that’s enough!”

Jiang Nan: “…”

From behind, Jiang Ji called, “Drink some water and wash your face first.”

“Okay, got it!” Jiang Bei replied.

Just then, Zhao Ru came back driving the ox. Seeing Jiang Ji’s short sleeves, she exclaimed, “Xiao Ji, did your clothes tear?”

“I cut them. Too hot,” Jiang Ji said, taking the rope from her hand to lead the ox back to the pen. “Mother, make me a few short-sleeved shirts, please. I want to wear short sleeves.”

Zhao Ru glanced at the uneven cut and dangling threads, laughing. “You cut off too much! Who wears clothes like that? You’ll be laughed at if you go out like this.”

“Let them laugh. Better than getting heatstroke.” Jiang Ji shut the pen. “It’s getting hotter every day. I don’t want to faint from the heat. I’ve seen the dock workers wearing sleeveless vests when they’re hauling cargo.”

“Then don’t wear it outside. At home’s fine,” Zhao Ru said, heading into the kitchen to make dinner.

In the courtyard, Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei were doing their writing. Jiang Nan overheard and shouted, “Mother, I’m hot too! I want short sleeves too!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll make you some.”

After dinner, Jiang Ji drew a design. “Make it like this, with these buttons, an open-front shirt—it’s cooler and saves fabric.”

Zhao Ru studied the sketch. “That’s easy enough, but aren’t these sleeves a bit too short?”

“I think they’re still too long,” Jiang Ji said, covering his arms to demonstrate. “Also make two sleeveless ones. And the pants—make them knee-length, just about here. Easier for fieldwork, no need to roll them up.”

Zhao Ru immediately shook her head. “No, no, those are underpants! You can’t wear those outside.”

“Aw, Mother, the immortals wear them all the time. It’s only us mortals suffering in this heat all wrapped up like dumplings. The fairies walk around in vests and shorts.”

Zhao Ru: “…”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Jiang Xia: “…”

Jiang Nan’s eyes went wide with wonder. “Brother, really?”

“Really.”

“I want shorts too!” Jiang Nan declared.

Jiang Bei whispered, “I… I want them too.”

Seeing their enthusiasm, Jiang Ji grinned—he had found allies. “Alright, I’ll let you two try some tonight.”

“How?” Jiang Nan asked curiously.

“You’ll see.”

Jiang Ji ran back to his room, opened the system’s exchange shop, and found the clothing section—specifically the sleepwear category.

He hadn’t used any modern clothes before since the weather had been cooler, but now, with no fans or electricity, he couldn’t stand the heat any longer.

He exchanged two sets of pajamas for everyone in the household—short-sleeved shirts with matching shorts, button-up style, modest enough not to shock anyone.

When he came out carrying the pile of clothes, Zhao Ru and the others were used to his “mystery items” by now, though they still looked curious.

“Here—Mother, this one’s yours; this one’s for Xia’er; these are for Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei, pick your favorite color; this one’s for Jiang Yan; and this one’s mine.”

He handed them out. “These are called pajamas—you wear them for sleeping.”

Jiang Nan picked up a blue shirt with cartoon designs and gasped, eyes wide. “Wow, there’s a picture on it!”

Jiang Bei peered at it. “What’s the picture?”

Jiang Ji glanced over—it was a cute little dinosaur. “They’re adorable little animals. You don’t recognize them?”

“Never seen them,” Jiang Nan said honestly.

Jiang Bei fiddled with a button. “Brother, how do you wear this?”

“Like this. You undo it through the little hole, see? Just like our shirts.” Jiang Ji demonstrated.

Zhao Ru touched the fabric and said, “This material’s so soft—it feels wonderful.”

Jiang Ji smiled. “Of course. Worn by immortals.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Jiang Yan held up a pair of shorts, stretching the waistband experimentally. It expanded and snapped back. “What’s this waistband made of?”

Zhao Ru gasped, picking up her own pants and trying it. “Oh! So you don’t even need a belt with these?”

Jiang Ji chuckled. “Yeah, that’s called an elastic band. The way it’s made is actually pretty complicated—we can’t produce it right now.”

Everyone gathered around the new clothes, fascinated. Zhao Ru was studying the fabric and the elastic, trying to figure out how the patterns were woven and how the stretchy band was made.

Jiang Nan was already so excited he could hardly sit still. “Brother, I’m gonna take a bath! Can you fetch water for me?”

“I wanna wash too!” Jiang Bei shouted.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Jiang Ji fetched water for the two little rascals, and after they bathed and changed into their new pajamas, they ran excitedly into the main hall.

“Look! Our new clothes!” Jiang Nan called, striking a pose with his hands on his hips. “Do they look good?”

He wore a dark blue set, while Jiang Bei’s was light blue. Both had cute cartoon prints, and the two of them looked absolutely adorable.

At first, Zhao Ru and the others weren’t used to the sight—but after looking for a while, they admitted it did look nice.

Jiang Xia nodded. “It’s cute.”

“Come here and let me see,” Zhao Ru said.

The boys ran up to her, and she turned them around to inspect the fit. “Comfy?”

“Super comfy,” Jiang Nan grinned. “Doesn’t itch at all.”

Jiang Bei chimed in, “Feels like I’m not wearing anything!”

Jiang Nan pulled at his waistband, let it go, and it snapped back with a thwack. “And you don’t even need a belt! So convenient!”

Zhao Ru laughed. “Nice and cool, huh?”

“Very cool,” Jiang Nan nodded eagerly. “Mother, you should all go wash up and put yours on too!”

“We’ll wear them for bed,” Zhao Ru said with a smile, patting their heads. “Now go to sleep.”

Jiang Bei shook his head. “Let’s play a bit longer! I wanna see big brother’s and Brother Jiang Yan’s clothes.”

Jiang Ji came over, carrying the last basin of water. “I’ll wash later. Xia’er, you go ahead.”

“Okay.”

The boys didn’t get to see their older brothers’ new outfits; by the time Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan finished washing and changing, the two little troublemakers were fast asleep.

Jiang Ji was reading a travelogue when Jiang Yan entered, still wearing his long sleeves. “Why aren’t you changing into your pajamas?”

“They’re inside,” Jiang Yan said, closing the door.

Jiang Ji laughed quietly—so modest that he had to change in private.

Jiang Yan walked over to the bed. Jiang Ji lay sprawled out in light gray short sleeves and shorts, arms and legs stretched out comfortably.

Jiang Yan’s gaze swept briefly over the exposed limbs before he turned away, undressing silently. When he turned back, he was in a dark gray pajama set.

“How does it feel?” Jiang Ji asked, looking up. “Cooler now?”

“Yes. The fabric’s very comfortable.” Jiang Yan folded his clothes neatly and sat on the edge of the bed. “Shall I blow out the lamp?”

“Wait.”

Jiang Yan turned back to him.

Jiang Ji’s eyes flicked toward his shorts, and he tilted his chin. “Don’t you feel… kind of empty?”

Jiang Yan frowned. “What?”

Jiang Ji grinned. “Here—something good for you.”

He pulled out a few pairs of men’s underwear. “These are called briefs. Wear them—it’s hot, don’t wear two layers. This keeps your lower parts protected.”

Their usual undergarments were long and heavy—basically two layers in summer. Without pants, it’d be awkward, but with them, too stuffy.

Since Zhao Ru often made inner clothes, Jiang Yan recognized what it was—but the fabric was clearly different from anything they could make.

It stretched and contracted without any ties.

“This fabric also uses elastic?” Jiang Yan asked.

Jiang Ji shook his head. “Uh, no—it’s made from a stretchy material. We can’t make this yet.”

Jiang Yan glanced at him, nodded, then picked up a black pair. Lighting a small oil lamp, he started toward the door.

“What are you doing?” Jiang Ji asked. “Just change here! Why go out?”

Jiang Yan paused, turned back. “Then turn around.”

Jiang Ji arched an eyebrow. “What, shy?”

Jiang Yan said nothing, just stared at him quietly.

Jiang Ji sighed, turning away. “Alright, alright, I won’t look. Hurry up.”

Jiang Yan blew out the lamp and set it back on the table before changing.

The faint rustle of fabric came from behind.

“You know how to wear it, right?” Jiang Ji asked.

“Yes.”

After a while, the sounds stopped.

“Done?” Jiang Ji asked.

“Done.”

Jiang Ji turned around and sat up without looking at him. “How’s it fit? The size okay?”

“Fits.”

“Comfortable?”

Jiang Yan’s voice dropped low. “Mm. Very comfortable. Thank you.”

“Good. Remember to wash the others before wearing them.”

Jiang Ji got up and slipped on his shoes.

“Going to the latrine?” Jiang Yan asked.

“No, I’m switching with Jiang Bei.”

Jiang Yan froze, eyes tightening slightly. “Why switch?”

“It’s too hot. Two grown men sleeping together is unbearable.”

Jiang Yan stood there silently, watching as Jiang Ji walked to the other bed, carefully lifted the sleeping Jiang Bei, moved him to the far side of Jiang Yan’s bed, adjusted the pillow and blanket, then lay down in Jiang Bei’s old spot himself.

With his eyes closed, Jiang Ji murmured, “Alright, blow out the lamp.”

Jiang Yan stood still for a while, then quietly blew out the flame and lay down.

In the darkness, he stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

For months now, he hadn’t had trouble sleeping—until tonight.

The other side of the bed was empty. The familiar scent and sound of breathing were gone.

No one would suddenly roll over and bump into him in the middle of the night. He should have slept better.

But instead—he couldn’t sleep at all.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Thandar: now that’s what we call cut sleeve lol

After Jiang Yan finished writing, he set the piece on the table to let the ink dry. Jiang Ji entered the prize settings, scanned the calligraphy into the system, and then the two of them went back to the fields to pull weeds.

By four-thirty, Jiang Ji stood up, went to the irrigation ditch to wash his hands, and walked toward the rice paddies. Once he made sure no one was around, he opened the livestream to start the grand prize draw.

“Alright, everyone, it’s time for the grand prize!”

The stream was packed—twenty million more viewers than in the morning. Everyone was watching, hoping for that one life-changing moment.

【Hurry up, hurry up! I’ve already bathed, changed clothes, and lit incense!】
【Me me me! Streamer, pick me!】
【God of Creation, please make the streamer pick me!】
【Grand prize, let’s go!】

Jiang Ji opened the raffle interface, the screen flashing rapidly with the scrolling names of the viewers.

“I’m drawing now.”

He tapped the button in the center, and after three seconds, the winner appeared.

“Congratulations to ‘System System You’re the Handsomest Please Pick Me’ for winning the grand prize!” Jiang Ji looked at the name and burst out laughing. “This viewer took an unconventional path and won the system’s affection. Folks, take notes!”

【What the hell, how did I not think of that!】
【Oh right, the raffle is run by the system! Quick, change your names!】
【What’s the point of changing names now—it’s over already!】
【Next time then!】
【So the system’s actually narcissistic!】
【Confirmed, everyone—this system really loves being flattered!】
【Aaaah I won! Aaaah!】
【Stop screaming, we all know you won—don’t rub it in!】
【If I’d won, I’d probably faint right now.】
【Same here, I’d pass out from joy.】

“Congratulations to the winner! Don’t be discouraged if you didn’t win—there will be more chances later. As usual, the calligraphy will be sent tomorrow after I have it mounted and framed.”

After finishing the draw, Jiang Ji was about to close the stream and return to weeding when the screen suddenly flashed with a golden shower of reward effects and a new message appeared.

——Xiao Xuehai tipped ten rice seed gifts.
——Xiao Xuehai tipped another ten rice seed gifts.
——Xiao Xuehai tipped another ten rice seed gifts.

【Xiao Xuehai: Streamer, I remember there’s a special task where rewards can be earned through tipping. I have a very respected senior who’d like one of your calligraphy pieces—same as I did before. How much would it take?】

Huh?

Jiang Ji blinked and replied, “Mr. Xiao, yes, that special task still exists—but the requirement’s pretty steep.”

【Xiao Xuehai: That’s fine. He’s rich.】

Jiang Ji: …

【He’s rich! Aaaaahhh!】
【I’m broken again!】
【Mr. Xiao, you can’t just flex on us like this!】
【Look at him, just buying his way through life!】
【Be honest, Mr. Xiao—is that ‘friend’ actually you?】

Having someone help him complete the task was a great deal for Jiang Ji, so he happily opened the special task panel, found the relevant one, and said, “This one requires a total of fifty million yuan in tips within a single day to qualify for a prize chosen by the streamer.”

【Xiao Xuehai: Perfect. He wants a piece of calligraphy.】

Jiang Ji’s eyes curved with a smile. “Alright then—let me go ask Jiang Yan.”

Jiang Ji ran over to Jiang Yan, crouched beside him, and poked his arm. “Jiang Yan, Jiang Yan.”

The two were in the tomato field, half-hidden among the tall, leafy vines. Clusters of green, round tomatoes hung everywhere—glossy and beautiful.

Jiang Yan wore a straw hat, sweat glistening on his forehead. He looked up and asked, “What is it?”

“We need another piece of calligraphy.” Jiang Ji lowered his voice since others were working nearby.

Jiang Yan wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and raised an eyebrow. “Now?”

“Not right now—just sometime today.” Jiang Ji couldn’t hold back a grin.

“Alright. I’ll write it when we get back,” Jiang Yan said, then asked, “What should I write this time?”

“I’ll tell you when we’re home.”

Jiang Ji got up and walked toward the edge of the field. Once he reached a spot where no one could hear, he said, “Mr. Xiao, Jiang Yan agreed. What should he write? Keep it within four characters—it’ll look better.”

【Xiao Xuehai: He’s a major business figure. He said you can decide, as long as the meaning is good.】

“Oh, I see.” Jiang Ji thought for a moment, then picked up a small stone and wrote four characters on the dirt path: “厚德载物 (Virtue Supports All Things).”

He then explained the meaning to his viewers: “It’s a saying that means ‘great virtue carries all things.’ It’s similar in spirit to ‘a sea that accepts all rivers’—that one emphasizes open-mindedness and inclusivity. But ‘厚德载物’ focuses more on moral character: those with noble virtue can shoulder great responsibility. It’s like saying ‘with great power comes great responsibility.’ It’s about bearing the weight of the world with integrity and compassion—a reflection of personal cultivation and social duty.”

“Mr. Xiao, is your friend satisfied with these four characters?” Jiang Ji asked.

【Xiao Xuehai: Very satisfied—those four are perfect!】

【Wow, the streamer’s culture is so deep.】
【Those words have real meaning—the more I think about them, the more profound they feel. I like them too.】
【‘A sea that accepts all rivers,’ ‘great virtue carries all things’—just hearing them feels grand and expansive.】

Jiang Ji smiled. “Our traditional culture really is fascinating. In my previous life, my country was one of the four ancient civilizations—rich history, brilliant culture, and once a global leader in human progress. There’s immense depth and continuity in that heritage.”

【Now I kinda want to see the streamer’s old world.】
【Alright, alright, stop bragging.】
【Listen to that pride in his voice—too bad we can’t see his face right now.】
【Bet he’s grinning from ear to ear.】

And indeed, Jiang Ji’s smile was radiant. He said cheerfully, “Mr. Xiao, when will your friend start sending the tips?”

【Xiao Xuehai: Give him a moment—he’s registering an account.】

【Oh wow, so it really is a friend!】
【I thought it was Mr. Xiao himself!】
【Same here.】

Jiang Ji reminded him, “Mr. Xiao, please have your friend use the most expensive gift item. That way I can exchange it for more rice seeds. Thanks!”

【Xiao Xuehai: Got it.】

Moments later, the screen filled with shimmering golden rice seed effects.

——Mu Zhengxiong sent ten rice seed gifts.
——Mu Zhengxiong sent another ten rice seed gifts.
——Mu Zhengxiong sent another ten rice seed gifts.
…

【Ahhh! It’s Elder Mu!】
【Chairman Mu!】
【It’s really Elder Mu!】

Judging by the flood of comments, this Elder Mu was clearly a highly respected and well-known figure.

Jiang Ji blinked. “Elder Mu? Folks, can someone tell me who that is?”

【Elder Mu is the leading figure in our country’s robotics field. He and his team developed a range of intelligent robots that have made everyday life so much easier.】
【Yeah, he’s basically the godfather of the robotics industry here.】

“Wow,” Jiang Ji said, intrigued. “Robots, huh? What kinds are there? What can they do?”

【Domestic robots, like housekeepers—they do chores, clean, even cook.】
【Medical robots can diagnose most common illnesses—no more waiting forever at hospitals.】
【There are also companion robots—they’re super considerate.】

Jiang Ji looked amazed. “Oh, that sounds fascinating. Are they machine-shaped or humanlike?”

【Both—you can customize them.】
【Whatever you want.】
【I have robots doing all the housework now—it’s amazing.】
【Same! Having domestic robots makes life so much happier. My parents don’t argue about chores anymore.】

Jiang Ji sighed enviously. “That’s wonderful. I want one too.”

【Hahaha, you don’t even have electricity yet—forget it.】
【Sending lots of sympathy your way.】

Jiang Ji laughed and shook his head. On-screen, the golden rice-seed effects kept streaming nonstop. The system’s tipping limit per transaction was 100 gifts, so a total of fifty million yuan in tips was taking a while to reach.

“Elder Mu, Mr. Xiao, I’m going back to weed the field. You can keep track of the total yourselves—five million is the goal.”

He returned to weeding, chatting with Zhao Ru and Jiang Yan about delivering lettuce to the restaurant tomorrow.

“Oh right, Xiao Ji,” Zhao Ru asked, “didn’t the Lin family also plant an acre of lettuce? Have they sold theirs yet?”

Jiang Ji shook his head. “No idea. Haven’t seen any at the market.”

“Maybe they’re keeping seeds too?” she guessed.

“Possibly. Brother Qiang and the others are saving chili seeds, so everyone’s probably thinking the same thing.”

“Then do we have enough chili seeds ourselves?”

“Plenty.”

After a while, Jiang Ji checked the livestream backend again. On the tipping leaderboard, Mu Yinghao had climbed to first place with 51 million yuan—and soon it rose to 52, then 53 million.

Jiang Ji said quietly, “Elder Mu, that’s enough—you can stop tipping now.”

【Xiao Xuehai: Elder Mu says thank you for celebrating our National Day. He really likes the meaning of those four characters. Calligraphy like that is rare, and he hopes this can help you exchange for more rice seeds—to help your people achieve food security sooner.】

Jiang Ji was moved. “Thank you, Elder Mu.”

The final total of the tips stopped at sixty million.

He was weeding the row next to Jiang Yan’s, separated only by the tomato plants between them. Hearing Jiang Ji murmur those words, Jiang Yan didn’t understand what they meant, but when he turned and saw Jiang Ji smiling from ear to ear, he asked, “What are you so happy about?”

Jiang Ji pushed aside the tomato branches, stepped over to Jiang Yan’s ridge, and squatted down beside him. His grin widened as he covered his mouth and whispered, “Your calligraphy just earned us three times more rice seeds than last time.”

“Three times?” Jiang Yan stared at him in shock.

Jiang Ji nodded. It was the first time he’d seen Jiang Yan with that expression—his eyes slightly widened in disbelief, his face blank for a moment—before he quickly composed himself again.

“Want me to write a few more pieces?” Jiang Yan asked quietly.

Jiang Ji froze for a second, then chuckled. “If only! There’s no such thing as that much luck. This was a one-time chance.”

Jiang Yan sighed. “Opportunities like that don’t come often.”

“True, but it’s already a huge gain,” Jiang Ji said softly. “This time, everyone will definitely plant the new rice seeds. Your calligraphy could sell across nine or ten counties easily—and whatever profit comes from that will all go to you.”

Jiang Yan paused, then shook his head. “No need. My writing isn’t worth that much. Without you, none of it could have been exchanged for seeds anyway.”

Jiang Ji was astonished. “You don’t even want the money? It’s not a small amount, you know—it’s a lot!”

Of course, Jiang Yan understood exactly how much that meant, but he still said, “You could buy a calligraphy piece on the street for a few hundred coins. It doesn’t have to be mine.”

That was true—any random painting or calligraphy piece from their world would become a priceless antique once sent to the viewers’ world.

“Who says so? No one’s calligraphy looks as good as yours!” Jiang Ji countered. “Only yours gets such a warm response.”

Jiang Yan looked at him. The young man’s face was earnest, his eyes bright with reflected sunlight.

Jiang Yan’s gaze softened. He said quietly, “Didn’t you say we’re family? Then whoever earns it, it’s still the family’s money.”

Jiang Ji blinked, then patted his arm and laughed. “So virtuous.”

Jiang Yan: “…” What kind of word choice was that?

Jiang Ji looked at him again and sighed. “Sometimes I really wish you’d never regain your memories.”

“Then you could stay with us forever.”

Jiang Yan’s heart stirred. He looked at Jiang Ji but said nothing.

“Xiao Ji, I’m going to herd the cattle home—you all come back soon,” Zhao Ru called from not far away.

Jiang Ji came back to himself and turned his head. “Okay!” he shouted back.

Then he patted Jiang Yan’s shoulder. “I’ll save the money for you. If you ever need it, just tell me.”

Before Jiang Yan could reply, Jiang Ji stood and called to the neighbors who were helping weed the field. “Uncles, aunties, it’s about time—you can head home now. Thank you for helping.”

One of the aunties replied, “There’s just a little left; we’ll finish it for you.”

Jiang Ji glanced at the remaining patch. It was small—maybe another half hour of work. “Alright then, thank you.”

When the sun set, the last of the weeds were gone, and everyone headed home.

As Jiang Ji and the others returned, Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei were feeding the ducks. Since the rice plants were now filling out, the ducks were no longer allowed into the paddies. They’d built a temporary duck pen in the courtyard, and the once tiny ducklings had grown into full-sized ducks—over a hundred of them quacking loudly, quite the spectacle.

Jiang Ji asked, “Why aren’t you two doing your homework?”

“We’ll write after feeding them,” Jiang Nan replied, then turned to ask, “Brother, I want roast duck—can you make it tomorrow?”

“Can’t tomorrow, but I’ll bring one back for you.”

“Oh, that’s fine too.”

Jiang Yan washed his hands and went to write, while Jiang Ji helped grind the ink.

Jiang Yan set aside the previous piece of calligraphy and asked, “What should I write?”

“‘Virtue Supports All Things.’”

Jiang Yan lifted the brush and began writing. Jiang Ji stood beside him, watching.

He loved watching Jiang Yan write—the graceful hands with long fingers, the way the soft brush seemed alive in his control.

Jiang Ji had tried calligraphy before; it demanded far too much patience. He’d given up after a few attempts.

He and calligraphy were destined to remain strangers in this lifetime.

“Wow, that’s so pretty!” Jiang Bei said, leaning on the table with his chin in his hands.

Jiang Ji said dryly, “You’re looking from the side—how can you tell it’s good?”

Jiang Bei said with full confidence, “Because Brother Jiang Yan’s writing is always beautiful! I don’t even have to look to know that!”

Jiang Ji: “…” A little fanboy, clearly.

…

The next morning, Zhao Ru cooked breakfast while Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan harvested three baskets of lettuce from the fields.

After eating, Jiang Ji loaded the vegetables onto a handcart and headed for town. He first delivered the lettuce to the restaurant, then went to the county office to see Magistrate Xu and Lord Chen.

“Gentlemen, I just got word—we have enough rice seeds for another nine or ten counties.”

“What? Ten counties?!”

Both officials were stunned. Lord Chen asked excitedly, “Are you serious?”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Absolutely. Please spread the word.”

“This—this is fantastic!” Lord Chen slapped his thigh. “Old Xu, let’s decide which ten counties to add.”

“Good, good!” Magistrate Xu said with delight. “We’ll start with the ones closest to ours—it’ll be easier for distribution.”

Seeing them bent over the map in excitement, Jiang Ji quickly added, “Magistrate Xu, is the estate I asked for ready?”

“Oh, yes, yes—it’s ready. Same one as before. The Lin family’s steward will bring you the key shortly.”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Alright, then our county will start tomorrow.”

“It’s already been announced,” Magistrate Xu replied.

After leaving the county office, Jiang Ji stopped by the calligraphy shop to have the two scrolls mounted, then swung by the restaurant again to pick up a roast duck before heading home.

When he arrived, the Lin family’s steward, Lin Fu, was already waiting.

“Young Master Jiang, I’m here to deliver the key to the estate—it’s been cleared out overnight. Would you like me to take you there now?”

“No need, we can find it ourselves.” Jiang Ji took the key and asked, “How’s your lettuce growing? It should be ready to eat by now, right?”

Lin Fu replied cheerfully, “It’s growing wonderfully! It’s quite easy to cultivate, and everything went smoothly following the instructions you wrote in that book. Our household has already eaten it twice—both the madam and the young mistress love it. My master said he’ll keep some seeds and the rest for our own table. We’re not planning to sell any.”

“Alright. Next year, we’ll have chili seeds and a few other new crops. I’ll save some for your household.”

Lin Fu’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Then on behalf of my master, I thank you, Young Master Jiang.”

That afternoon, Jiang Ji went to find the village chief and gathered the same men who had helped last time, asking them to come to the estate after dinner to guard overnight. He also recruited a dozen more people to help during the day.

Then he and Jiang Yan packed clothes, bedding, and toiletries, and headed for the estate.

It was the same place as before. After checking every corner, Jiang Ji took out all the seeds he had exchanged—the two warehouses, empty rooms, and even the corridors were soon filled to the brim.

The next morning, Changping County came alive as every household set out to buy seeds.

The rice grains in the fields had ripened full and heavy, promising a good harvest. When people heard that they could now plant the new second-season rice, everyone grew eager and excited.

There was no need for Jiang Ji to spread the word; every villager decided to replant all their paddies with the new seeds.

*

As Jiang Ji’s side grew busy selling, the news spread from county to county—until it finally reached Prefect Hu.

“What? Fifteen counties in total?” Prefect Hu jumped to his feet in shock. “Yesterday’s report said it was fewer than five—how did it suddenly increase so much?”

The adviser was equally baffled. “The people we sent found out that Jiang Ji himself also received the news suddenly.”

“Have they tracked down the merchant transporting the seeds?” Hu demanded.

“That’s the strange part, sir.” The adviser frowned. “Our men learned that the county yamen assigned him the same estate as before. They’ve been guarding the main and back roads near it, but no one has seen a single cartload of grain seeds being delivered.”

“No one?” Hu’s eyes widened. “Then where did Jiang Ji get all those seeds?”

The prefect and his adviser exchanged looks of disbelief.

“I don’t know,” said the adviser. “Our men said Jiang Ji went to the estate in the afternoon, and by the next day, he was already selling. The seeds just… just seemed to appear out of thin air.”

“Nonsense! How could that much seed appear out of nowhere?!” Hu paced in anger. “Are you sure those men aren’t lying to you? Maybe they were slacking off somewhere and missed it!”

The adviser wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I don’t think they’d dare, sir.”

“They’re far from the capital—of course they’d dare! Otherwise, explain to me how he got those seeds! Jiang Ji’s no immortal—he can’t conjure things from nothing!”

The adviser said nothing.

Prefect Hu was furious. Still no sign of the merchant—and now fifteen counties’ worth of seeds had already been sold!

That’s an enormous amount of silver!

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, slamming his hand on the table. “Useless fools—can’t do anything right!”

All that money, straight into Jiang Ji’s pocket. The thought of it—and of how Jiang Ji had outplayed him—made Hu’s teeth grind with rage.

If he couldn’t profit from it, then that boy wouldn’t either!

“Send word to Skull Mountain,” Hu ordered coldly. “Tell them Jiang Ji is selling seed to fifteen counties. No need to explain anything else—they’ll look into it themselves.”

The adviser hesitated. “Do we want our men to stay and watch?”

“Let them do as they please. Don’t say anything unnecessary.”

“Yes, sir.”

*

Back in Changping County, the seed trading at the western estate was in full swing.

To speed things up, Magistrate Xu sent both yamen clerks and accountants from the county office, and even borrowed several from the Lin family to help with bookkeeping.

Master Lin dispatched four clerks, which made the process much faster.

The locals of Changping bought theirs first—small household quantities weighed and sold by the catty. Within a day and a half, the entire county was done.

Then delegations from other counties began to arrive, organized directly by their own county offices. They came with carts and workers, loading full sacks at a time—faster than the locals had bought. As before, each county issued promissory notes to Jiang Ji, to be repaid later in silver.

With official backing, Jiang Ji wasn’t worried about collecting payment.

After six or seven days of nonstop work, all fifteen counties’ worth of seeds were sold.

When the last county’s convoy departed, everyone finally exhaled in relief—it had been exhausting work.

Jiang Ji raised his voice. “Everyone, thank you for your hard work these past few days! It’s too late today, so go home, wash up, and rest. Tomorrow at noon, I’ll treat you all to a meal at Jiang Ji Dining Hall as thanks! Don’t you dare skip it!”

The mention of eating at Jiang Ji Dining Hall immediately lifted everyone’s spirits.

“Great, I’ve been wanting to go there for ages!”
“What a treat!”
“Thank you, Brother Jiang Ji!”

The next day, the entire second floor of Jiang Ji Restaurant was cleared out to host those who had helped with the sale.

Table after table was filled with fine food and good wine, and everyone ate to their heart’s content.

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan went from table to table, toasting and thanking the helpers before joining the county officials.

During the meal, Magistrate Xu asked, “Lord Chen, you mentioned before that the provincial inspector would be coming for an inspection. Why hasn’t he arrived yet?”

Lord Chen, cheerful and slightly flushed from drink, replied, “He meant to come earlier, but two counties in Luzhou were hit by floods. He’s been occupied there for over a month, and once he returned, new matters held him up again.”

“Oh? Something important?” Xu asked.

Chen nodded. “It seems so. I heard he’s helping the capital search for someone.”

Jiang Ji and Jiang Yan exchanged glances at that.

“Someone from the capital?” Xu asked, already tipsy but curious. “Who could be important enough for the inspector himself to lead the search?”

Lord Chen said, “I’m not sure, but it must be someone very important. They say the person disappeared somewhere in our province, and the capital has already sent people down to search.”

Jiang Ji’s brow twitched. “My lord, our province is huge—do you know which area this person went missing in?”

“I don’t,” Lord Chen admitted. “Lord Fan and the people from the capital are keeping it very secret. What little I know came from a friend.”

Jiang Ji glanced at Jiang Yan, who shook his head slightly.

After the banquet, when they saw the guests off, Jiang Ji personally handed each helper a pouch of pastries—and discreetly slipped them a thank-you banknote as well.

Once everything was wrapped up, he finally felt a weight lift from his chest.

On the way home, Jiang Ji asked, “Do you think that person the inspector’s looking for could be you?”

Jiang Yan shook his head. “Probably not.”

“Why not?”

“If the provincial inspector himself is helping with the search, the missing person must be extremely important,” Jiang Yan said, looking at him. “Do I look like that kind of person to you?”

Jiang Ji nodded seriously. “You do.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Jiang Ji scratched his head. “I wonder who the inspector sent to investigate. Should we tell Lord Chen, just in case?”

Jiang Yan glanced at him and refused flatly. “No.”

“Why not? Don’t you want to go home?”

After a moment of silence, Jiang Yan said, “Did you forget? When you found me, I was covered in injuries. What if the ones looking for me are enemies? Otherwise, why would they search in secret instead of posting notices?”

Jiang Ji froze, then nodded. “You’re right—that is suspicious.”

Now that Jiang Yan said it, the more Jiang Ji thought about it, the stranger it seemed. “Good point. We’d better wait until you remember what happened to you. If your enemies find you first, that’d be suicide.”

“Mm.” Jiang Yan turned to look at him. “Why are you so eager to help me find my family anyway?”

“I’m not,” Jiang Ji said, blinking in confusion before scratching his head. “Don’t take it the wrong way—I just thought if you found your family, maybe being around familiar people or places could help you regain your memory sooner.”

“I’m not in a hurry.” Jiang Yan paused, then added softly, “I think things are fine the way they are. Peaceful.”

Jiang Ji rubbed his nose and muttered under his breath, “But I want you to remember.”

“Hm?” Jiang Yan turned toward him. “What did you say?”

Jiang Ji stopped walking and looked at him. “I said, I want you to remember.”

Jiang Yan also stopped. His brow arched slightly. “Didn’t you say the other day you didn’t want me to remember?”

“The point that day wasn’t the first part—it was the second,” Jiang Ji replied, meeting his gaze.

Jiang Yan thought back to that conversation.

—Then you could stay at my house forever.

Jiang Yan froze for a moment.

Their eyes met, some unspoken tension rippling between them.

Both had drunk a little at lunch; whether it was the wine or the blazing afternoon sun, even the air between them seemed to grow hot and still.

Jiang Yan spoke softly. “Are you drunk?”

“Maybe.” Jiang Ji looked away, letting the emotion fade from his eyes. He took a few steps forward. “Come on. It’s too hot to stand around.”

Jiang Yan watched his back for a moment, pressed his lips together lightly, and followed after him.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

When Jiang Ji arrived at the restaurant early that morning, it was still quiet. In the kitchen, Han Qingshan was gathering the staff for a meeting. Jiang Ji stopped at the doorway, not going in, simply listening from the side.

Han Qingshan stood before the group, his expression serious.

“…Today as we start work, I hope no one repeats yesterday’s mistakes. Also, there’s something important I need to tell everyone. We’ve only been open a few days, and business is booming. Because of that, other restaurants have already started watching us closely. This morning, someone came to find me—from Xiang Man Lou. This place used to be a restaurant, but it closed down because its chefs were poached by Xiang Man Lou.”

“They told me I could name any salary I wanted. I refused—not only because the ownership papers for me and Xiang’er are in the young master’s hands, but because the young master treats us well.”

“All of us who joined the Jiang household were once together at the labor agency. You’ve probably heard about what happened with me and Yu Yang. Word was, we’d struck our former master’s son, so no one wanted to hire us. But the young master didn’t care about our past. He not only took us in but also helped me find Xiang’er again.”

“Ask yourselves honestly—has the young master not treated us well? You’ve all seen the village yourselves. The young master’s own family still lives in thatched huts, yet he gave us two fine courtyard houses just for our use. In any other household, only the young masters and young ladies would live in such good quarters.”

“He taught us cooking himself—without holding anything back. He even takes the trouble to make sure we rest properly, giving us the bath tubs from the main courtyard for our use.”

“Would that ever happen in another household? What other master, madam, young master, or young lady could compare to ours?”

“Everyone, I’m old. I’m forty-three this year. I was sold into servitude at ten and have served in four households. Of them all, Young Master Jiang and his family are the kindest, most generous masters I’ve ever known.”

“The work we do now doesn’t involve serving anyone directly. We don’t have to flatter or fear others, and we no longer suffer slaps or scoldings for no reason. We just do our jobs well and are paid generously for it. Where else could we find such a master?”

“Xiang Man Lou—or other restaurants—will definitely send more people to approach us. But remember this: what they want is our new recipes, and everything we’ve learned was taught by the young master himself. I hope you all keep that firmly in mind.”

“If anyone comes trying to recruit you,” Han Qingshan continued, “I hope that whether it’s because of your indentures or because you remember the young master’s kindness, you’ll think carefully before making any decision that you might regret later.”

Jiang Ji listened quietly for a while longer, then turned away and left.

He had originally come to remind Han Qingshan to be careful of people trying to poach their staff. He trusted Han and Yu Yang, but not everyone else yet.
Now, he realized there was no need—Han had already said everything he would have.

After a brief word with Manager Lü, Jiang Ji headed to the county office.

When Han Qingshan finished his talk, everyone went back to work. He came out to the front and asked, “Manager Lü, has the young master been here?”

“The owner came just now—went to the back. You didn’t see him?”

Han was taken aback. “He went to the kitchen?”

“Yeah, I saw him go back there, but he didn’t stay long. Said he was going to the county office to meet with the officials.” Manager Lü added curiously, “Why, you needed him for something?”

“I wanted to talk to him about something. Did he say he’d come back later?”

“No, but I’ll let you know if he does.”

“Alright, thank you.”

Jiang Ji had gone to the county office to discuss the second rice planting season—it was time to sell the seeds again.

As he walked, he casually opened his livestream. It was only a little past eight in the morning, yet the viewer count was unusually high—over seven million already.

Surprised, Jiang Ji glanced at the scrolling comments.

【Han Qingshan is such a solid guy】
【He’s loyal—he remembers the young master’s kindness】
【That Jiang Ji kid really has some luck, earning a household’s full devotion】
【Not just luck—he’s kindhearted. If it were anyone else, they wouldn’t have helped find Xiang’er, and they wouldn’t have earned that kind of loyalty】
【He’s always been kind, even back when he took in Jiang Yan】
【Let’s just hope no one else causes trouble】
【That Xiang Man Lou owner doesn’t seem like someone who gives up easily】
【Haha, that Tian guy must be tearing his hair out—no chilies, no chef to poach, nothing】
【Just hope they don’t pull some dirty trick, like planting bugs in the food and claiming it’s contaminated】
【Restaurant rivalries always end up with that kind of nonsense—fake food poisoning, slander about hygiene, stuff like that】
【You sound way too experienced saying that】

Jiang Ji laughed and greeted the viewers. “Morning, everyone. You all seem lively today.”

【Hey, the streamer’s reading the chat!】
【Haha, I thought you were just walking in silence—turns out you were watching us type】
【We’re just discussing business warfare tactics for your restaurant. Pay attention, could be useful!】

“I see, thanks everyone.” Jiang Ji chuckled, noticing the numbers still climbing. “Why are there so many people today? Usually around this time, it’s only two or three million. Don’t you all have work?”

【We’re off today—it’s National Day】
【Holiday! Still in bed right now】
【Three-day break! Gonna watch you the whole time】

“Oh, it’s National Day? No wonder there are so many people.” Jiang Ji grinned. “But why aren’t you all sleeping in? When I had days off, I’d sleep straight until noon.”

【Still in bed】
【Eating breakfast】
【Wanted to sleep in but my mom woke me up】
【Same! Moms are relentless】
【Classic mom behavior】

Jiang Ji laughed softly. “Then let me wish you all a happy National Day! May your country prosper and its people live in peace and safety.”

【Thank you, streamer!】
【Happy National Day to you too!】
【Wishing peace and prosperity to the nation!】

The chat filled with red-colored messages, festive and bright. It reminded Jiang Ji of his previous life—how livestreams on National Day were always flooded with patriotic blessings, full of heartfelt pride.

Many viewers sent gifts—golden, plump little rice grains with tiny wings fluttering across the screen, dropping endlessly like rain. It looked adorable.

After thinking for a moment, Jiang Ji said, “Alright, everyone. To celebrate your National Day, let’s do another giveaway at noon!”

【Ahhhh, giveaway time!】
【Yes! Finally another one!】
【What’s the prize this time?】
【When exactly?】

“Noon, twelve o’clock,” Jiang Ji announced. “The prizes will be twenty-five dishes from my restaurant’s menu—one dish for each of twenty-five winners. And when I get back this afternoon, I’ll have Jiang Yan write a calligraphy scroll that says ‘Peace and Prosperity to the Nation’ as a special grand prize!”

【I want that grilled fish! I’ve been drooling since the last time you showed it】
【I want the roast duck】
【Braised pork trotters for me!】
【No, I want the grand prize!】
【The calligraphy, the calligraphy!】
【You fools, that scroll’s worth millions and you’re asking for food that’ll be gone in five minutes!】
【As if winning any of it’s easy, come on!】

Jiang Ji couldn’t stop laughing at the chat. “You’re all too funny. Anyway, I’ve got to head into the county office now. Go spread the word and bring more people in!”

【Spread the word? No way—I’m not lowering my chances of winning!】
【Exactly, higher odds for us if fewer people join】
【Makes sense】
【Don’t tell anyone, I want to win!】
【Anyone who shares this is a puppy】
【Too late! It’s already trending on Weibo under a giveaway tag!】

【Ahhhhh! Who did that?! Traitor!】

【Who shared it! You’ve been single for decades and this is how you use your hand speed?!】

【Look at the viewer count—it’s shooting up!】

Jiang Ji almost burst out laughing. “No need to be like that. If you all really enjoy the food that much, I’ll hold more giveaways so you can try it again later.”

【I’m remembering this! You better keep your word!】
【Do the math yourself—it’s been forever since the last giveaway!】

Jiang Ji rubbed his nose and smiled. “It hasn’t been that long. I haven’t even been here that long myself! Anyway, I’m at the county office now. I’ll leave the hype to you guys and catch up later. Noon sharp—see you then.”

He closed the livestream and turned to the guard at the county office gate. “Brother, is Magistrate Xu in?”

The guard, now quite familiar with him, grinned. “He’s here—go on in.”

“Thanks.”

Jiang Ji walked into Magistrate Xu’s office and knocked. “Sir.”

Magistrate Xu looked up from his paperwork, eyes lighting up. “Ah, come in! I was just thinking of going to see you tomorrow.”

“You needed me for something?” Jiang Ji asked, sitting in the chair by the desk.

Magistrate Xu stood and came around from behind his desk. “The threshing machine is finished. I wanted you to take a look.”

Jiang Ji’s eyes brightened. “Both units are done?”

“Mm. They’ve been tested—work perfectly.” Magistrate Xu tilted his chin toward the courtyard. “Come on, let’s see them.”

“Alright.”

They went to a nearby courtyard where several carpenters were at work.

As soon as Jiang Ji entered, he saw two threshing machines placed under the corridor of the main hall, surrounded by carpenters inspecting them. The hall floor was covered in wood shavings, and several men were busy assembling more machines.

Magistrate Xu smiled. “They’ve already tested them. Go ahead—see if they match your design, and tell us if anything needs adjusting.”

“Sure.”

Jiang Ji walked up to one machine and examined it carefully. It had a square frame with a lid, and in the center a large rotating cylinder made of long planks embedded with curved metal loops. A foot pedal at the bottom drove a pair of gears on either side, which in turn rotated the cylinder. Comparing it with the version from his system’s blueprint, it looked identical.

He picked up a test branch from nearby, pressed it onto the platform, and stepped on the pedal. As the roller spun faster, he pushed the branch in—leaves on the side touching the roller were instantly stripped clean.

“How is it?” Magistrate Xu asked.

Jiang Ji lifted the bare branch, satisfied. “Perfect. Just like it should be.”

Harvesting rice would be so much easier now.

“Good.” Magistrate Xu pointed toward another room. “The winnowing machine’s over there.”

Inside that room, two or three winnowers had already been completed.

Jiang Ji tested one with some rice nearby—empty husks blew away, leaving only full, plump grains falling neatly into the basket below.

“Excellent. It separates cleanly. Perfect for sorting seeds after harvest.”

“Exactly.” Magistrate Xu nodded, stroking his beard. “By the way, the second-season rice seeds—are they ready?”

“That’s why I came today,” Jiang Ji said. “Sir, please send out the notice. The seeds will arrive in about two days. Just like before, find me a manor—we can start selling the day after tomorrow. The price stays the same. Our own county buys first; as for other counties, you and Magistrate Chen can decide the distribution. They can come buy here—we won’t be delivering this time.”

Magistrate Xu nodded again. “Understood. How much do you have?”

Over the past two months, Jiang Ji had built up a large reserve of points. He’d also converted many viewer gifts into rice seeds—though this time, unlike before when most came from a generous viewer named Mr. Xiao, he had to spend his own points. And it now cost ten points per jin of seed.

Fortunately, the platform’s owner had realized his value—Jiang Ji’s stream had been featured daily on the homepage, bringing in huge audiences.

It was a win-win: Jiang Ji’s popularity drew traffic, and in turn, the platform’s daily active users had surpassed even the biggest rival—it was now the undisputed leader of the streaming world.

By now, the first-season rice fields were heavy with grain, each stalk bearing nearly double the yield of ordinary rice. It was certain that every farmer would want the new seeds for their second planting.

Jiang Ji estimated, “If we supply fully, it should cover about four to five counties. I’m not completely sure how much farmland there is, so let’s call it four and a half counties’ worth.”

Magistrate Xu nodded. “Alright. I’ll inform Lord Chen and let him decide which counties get them. We’ll have the estate ready for you by tomorrow.”

“Perfect.” Jiang Ji pointed to the winnower and the threshing machine. “Sir, could you have someone deliver these to me later?”

“Of course. I’ll send men to transport them shortly.”

Jiang Ji smiled. “Thank you, sir.”

After finishing his business, he returned to the restaurant.

First thing back, he found Manager Lü. “Uncle Lü, set up a large round table in the office at the back. I’ll need it soon.”

“Alright, right away.” Manager Lü immediately called the waiters to arrange it.

Then Jiang Ji headed to the kitchen, where everyone was busy working.

When Han Qingshan saw him, he first reported the morning’s incident.

“I’ve already spoken to everyone and made it clear,” Han said seriously. “I’ll keep a close eye on things from now on.”

Jiang Ji nodded. “I heard your talk this morning,” he said earnestly. “Uncle Han, with you here, I can rest easy.”

Han Qingshan’s expression softened with emotion. “Thank you for your trust, young master. I’ll make sure to keep a close watch over the kitchen.”

“Good.” Jiang Ji waved his hand. “Come on, around noon I’ll need every dish from the menu prepared. Help me make some portions ahead of time—we’ll need them ready.”

“Yes, young master.”

Jiang Ji personally joined in cooking the dishes for the audience giveaway, while Han Qingshan handled part of the workload. After more than half an hour of busy work, everything was finally ready.

Even the large round table couldn’t hold all the dishes—they had to bring in an additional eight-immortals table to fit them all.

Jiang Ji closed the door, latched it, and told everyone not to disturb him. Then he opened the livestream.

No one came to bother him; it was the peak of lunch hour, and everyone in the restaurant was busy beyond belief.

When Jiang Ji glanced at the stream, he was stunned—
the viewer count had hit an all-time record: more than sixty million people were watching live.

“What the—why are there so many people?!”

【Alright, alright, it’s starting!】
【It’s time! It’s time!】
【Oh my god, I’m drooling just looking at that table!】
【The streamer’s too sincere—he actually cooked everything himself】
【You’re trending right now! Two or three of the top ten searches are about you, the rest are all National Day topics!】
【Everyone knows you’re doing a giveaway for National Day, so they’re here to join and try their luck】
【The winners from last time got rich—some sold their prizes for hundreds of thousands at least】
【But this time it’s food—you can’t resell that easily】
【You can auction it off though!】
【I want to eat it myself!】
【Haha, you gotta win first!】
【Chance is twenty-five out of sixty-nine million!】
【If I win today, I’m buying a lottery ticket immediately!】

Jiang Ji laughed. “Looks like everyone’s excited, so let’s not waste any time—let’s begin.”

The table wasn’t just covered with dishes; there were also large bowls of rice, and even a big steamer full of freshly cooked white rice on the side.

“Since you probably have family at home, I prepared generous portions of rice so everyone can share a bit.”

He set up the giveaway parameters, scooped a big bowl of rice, and paired it with the first dish on a tray—making one complete set.

【Even rice too!】
【You’re so thoughtful, streamer! It’s lunchtime here too, hurry up and start!】
【I’ve been waiting to eat vicariously through this stream!】
【Ahhhh pick me pick me pick me!!】

——Xiao Xuehai tipped ten rice seed gifts.
——Xiao Xuehai tipped ten more rice seed gifts.

The golden name shone brightly at the top of the chat, followed by a spectacular animation of rice seeds—the premium kind worth a thousand coins each.

【Ah, it’s Mr. Xiao!】
【The legendary Xiao himself—so dazzling!】
【Boss Xiao, mighty as ever!】

Jiang Ji was pleasantly surprised. Smiling, he said, “Mr. Xiao, hello! Happy National Day!”

【Xiao Xuehai: Same to you.】

The golden VIP message gleamed at the top of the screen—Jiang Ji spotted it immediately. “Mr. Xiao, are you joining the giveaway too?”

【Xiao Xuehai: Yes.】

“Then I wish you the best of luck.”

【Xiao Xuehai: Thank you.】

“Alright everyone, let’s start! The first dish—braised pork with preserved mustard greens!” Jiang Ji scanned the tray into the system and brought up the raffle interface. “Ready? Let’s roll!”

The livestream screen filled with flashing names spinning rapidly, too fast to read, just streaks of motion.

After three seconds, one name popped up.

“Congratulations to ‘Pick Me, Please Pick Me, Streamer!’ for winning the braised pork dish!” Jiang Ji blinked, then laughed. “This username reminds me of someone from the last giveaway—the style’s awfully similar!”

【Ahhh it’s not me!】
【What was that first winner called again—‘Pick me pick me pick me,’ right?】
【Ahhhh it’s me! I won!】
【My tears of envy are flowing straight from my mouth!】
【Next one, pick me!!】
【Clearly, having a desperate-sounding name increases luck! I’m changing mine too!】

“Since these are hot dishes, you’ll want to eat them right away, so I’ll be sending them one at a time,” Jiang Ji explained. “If you win, make sure you’re at your table—or just sit on the floor if you have to. Hope you enjoy the meal!”

He tapped the Send button, and instantly, the tray of braised pork and rice vanished—leaving only the empty tray behind.

【Whoa! It disappeared!】
【Still looks magical every time!】
【Winner, keep your bowl and tray—that’s an artifact from another world, worth a fortune!】
【Oh right, the tableware comes along with it!】
【What if people start faking the bowls later?】

“You’ll have to learn to tell the difference,” Jiang Ji said, lifting a bowl to the camera with a grin. “Our restaurant’s name is engraved on the bottom of each piece. Still, if someone’s skilled enough, they could fake it—so keep your eyes sharp.”

【I’m keeping mine as a family heirloom—never selling it!】
【First, I need to actually win one…】

“Alright, next dish—grilled fish. This one’s big, perfect for a whole family. Let’s give you a little extra rice.” Jiang Ji pressed down a heaping bowl of rice, placed it on the tray, scanned it, and started the draw.

“Congratulations to ‘Streamer, Love Me Just Once’ for winning the grilled fish!” Jiang Ji’s eye twitched slightly. “What’s with all these ridiculous usernames you people are coming up with?”

【Oh my god, so you really do need one of those ridiculous usernames to win!】

【This system is so untrustworthy—it actually favors those names!】

【Quick, everyone change your names!】

【Done. I’m now “Behaving Honestly.”】

【It’s me! It’s me! Ahhh, I won!】

【All the good usernames are taken already! You guys make it impossible to come up with a new one!】

Jiang Ji couldn’t help laughing. “Alright, moving on to the third dish. This one’s just vegetables, so I added a side of steamed ribs. May your great nation prosper and rise ever higher!”

【Thank you, streamer, and may your country also keep rising and prospering!】
【You’re so thoughtful, thank you!】

——Xiao Xuehai tipped ten rice seed gifts.
——Xiao Xuehai tipped another ten rice seed gifts.

Jiang Ji continued drawing names one by one. Just finishing all twenty-five dishes took nearly half an hour.

“Alright, that’s the last one. I hope everyone who got something enjoyed their meal. How was it?”

【So delicious! I’m literally in tears!】
【I won the grilled fish—my family and I licked the plate clean! Oh my god, it was amazing!】
【I got the roast duck! Haha, it’s incredible—crispy on the outside, juicy inside, rich but not greasy!】
【Ughhh, I’m dying of envy! All I can do is watch!】
【I saw videos of the winners eating. Their luck is unreal!】
【I won the vegetable dish, but the streamer added steamed ribs—thank you! It was so good!】
【The spicy pork was incredible, and the rice was perfect too. I finished the whole big bowl myself!】
【Dude, seriously? You ate that whole bowl by yourself?】
【Sob… I’m a girl! I was on a diet, and now I’ve undone a whole month of progress!】
【……】
【HAHAHAHAHAHA】
【Sorry, but that’s too funny!】
【Worth it, girl. Totally worth it.】

Jiang Ji was laughing too. “Miss, there’s no need to rush a diet anyway! Oh, and don’t forget—the grand prize draw is later this afternoon, around four-thirty. After I eat, I’ll head back. I’m logging off for now.”

【Oh crap, that’s right! There’s still the grand prize!】
【Jiang Yan’s calligraphy—worth tens of millions!】
【Pick me pick me pick me!!】
【The piece Mr. Xiao won last time got borrowed by a museum for display!】
【I went to see it! Majestic and powerful—I didn’t even understand the characters, but it was stunning!】
【The first guy who won one sold it at auction, quit his coding job, and used the money to start his own gaming company. Total dream come true.】
【Yeah, I saw that in the news too. So jealous!】

——Pick Me Pick Me Pick Me tipped ten rice seed gifts.
——Pick Me Pick Me Pick Me tipped another ten rice seed gifts.

【Whoa, that’s him, right? It’s gotta be him!】
【Speak of the devil, and he appears!】
【Dude, you’re watching too?】
【Pick Me Pick Me Pick Me: Thank you, streamer! I sold the calligraphy, started my own company, and just landed my first investor! You helped me make my dream come true!】

The messages were highlighted in gold—he’d tipped quite a lot over time. Jiang Ji saw it and smiled warmly.

“Congratulations, brother! Wishing you endless success and prosperity!”

【Pick Me Pick Me Pick Me: Thank you, streamer!】

【Streamer, you’re still here? Spying on chat instead of leaving?】

“I’m going, I’m going—time for lunch.”

Jiang Ji chuckled, closed the stream, picked up the steamer and tray, and left.

In the kitchen, everyone was still busy. He went next door to the staff dining room, where the servers and cooks were taking turns to eat.

In his previous life, restaurant staff usually had to eat at off-hours—around 1–2 p.m. or after 9 p.m.—once the rush had passed.

But here, with the nightly curfew, they had to close by eight. It wouldn’t be fair to make them eat dinner at four, so Jiang Ji had them rotate their mealtimes instead.

Xiao An was eating when he saw Jiang Ji come in. “Brother Jiang Ji, didn’t you just feed your friends? Weren’t you full already?”

Jiang Ji paused, filled a bowl, and sat down. “I didn’t eat with them. They took their food to go.”

“Oh.” Xiao An scratched his head. “Then I’ll go clean up afterward.”

He’d been helping carry dishes earlier.

“No need—it’s already taken care of,” Jiang Ji said quickly, steering the topic away. “By the way, who made this eggplant casserole today? It’s pretty good.”

“I heard Brother Xiaojun made it.”

“Not bad.”

After finishing his meal and about to leave, Jiang Ji suddenly remembered the twenty-five sets of bowls and plates that had disappeared with the giveaways—the kitchen needed to keep count.

He went back to tell Han Qingshan, “Uncle Han, those twenty-five sets of tableware—I sent them out with the food. Put them on my account.”

Han nodded. “Got it.”

“Oh, and the lettuce at home is ready for harvest. Starting tomorrow, I’ll send a cartload over every day—add that to the fresh vegetables menu.”

“Alright.”

Jiang Ji stopped by the main hall to tell Manager Lü about the dishes and lettuce, then headed home.

At the village entrance, he saw Zhao Ru and Jiang Yan in the fields pulling weeds from the tomato patch. Standing by the roadside, he called out, “Jiang Yan! Come here, I need you for something.”

Jiang Yan looked up, saw him, emptied his basket, and washed his hands in the irrigation ditch before walking over. “What is it?”

Jiang Ji squatted down, smiling brightly. “Write something for me.”

After drying his hands, Jiang Yan came up the path, one eyebrow raised. “Like before? A gift?”

“Mm.” Jiang Ji stood, eyes gleaming, pointing upward with a grin. “A gift for the immortals.”

Jiang Yan said, “…Alright. What am I writing this time?”

“‘Peace and Prosperity for the Nation,’” Jiang Ji replied, then remembered the winnower and the threshing machine. “Did Magistrate Xu’s men deliver the machines yet?”

“They came this morning. The winnower and one of the threshers are in the main hall; the other wouldn’t fit, so I put it in the woodshed.”

Jiang Ji looked at him. “Have you tried them out? How do they work?”

“Very well. The thresher separates the grain fast.” Jiang Yan frowned slightly. “But it’s a bit dangerous—children shouldn’t go near it. Around noon, we lost sight of Jiang Nan for a moment, and he got curious and stepped on the pedal a few times. He almost got pulled in.”

“What? Jiang Nan’s alright?” Jiang Ji asked in alarm.

“He’s fine. I grabbed him in time. Don’t worry.”

Jiang Ji frowned. “That little rascal… I’ll give him a good talking-to tonight.”

“Auntie already scolded him. He was so frightened himself that he probably won’t dare touch it again.”

As they spoke, the two reached home. Jiang Ji went straight to the woodshed. “The rollers on this machine have really strong suction. Jiang Yan, let’s remove them for now—only put them back when we need to use it.”

“Alright.”

They removed the guard panels, took out the central roller, and set it aside. They did the same for the one in the main hall, not wanting the two little troublemakers to step on it again out of curiosity.

Afterward, they washed their hands. Jiang Ji ground the ink while Jiang Yan laid out the paper and brush.

As Jiang Ji worked, he said, “The day after tomorrow, we’ll start selling rice seeds again. I told the magistrate, and he should have a manor arranged by tomorrow. This time, people from other counties can come collect them themselves. I’m not running around again.”

Jiang Yan glanced up at him with a faint smile. “Good. No need to tire yourself out.”

“Yeah, I think so too. Last time, they were just in a rush to sow before the season ended.” Jiang Ji shrugged.

Jiang Yan used the paperweights to flatten the sheet. “So this piece is a thank-you gift for the rice seeds?”

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. “Mm. One of them.”

Jiang Yan gave him a look but didn’t ask further—he still remembered the two calligraphy pieces that had left the house before and never come back. Rolling up his sleeves, he dipped the brush in ink.

“If there’s ever something I can help with, just tell me,” Jiang Yan said.

Jiang Ji paused, then smiled, eyes curving. “You’re already helping—a great deal.”

Jiang Yan lifted his gaze briefly, then lowered it again and began writing.

— Peace and Prosperity for the Nation.

Grain—the very foundation of peace and prosperity.

If his calligraphy could help Jiang Ji, if it could bring more rice and new crop seeds, then what harm was there in writing a few more pieces?

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

When Master Tian returned to his own restaurant, Xiang Man Lou, the manager noticed his grim expression. After a moment’s hesitation, he followed him inside.

That morning, when Jiang Ji Dining Hall had opened, the manager had gone to take a look. He’d even managed to grab a bite in the crowd—and the moment he tasted it, he knew something was wrong. Xiang Man Lou had met a real rival.

Later, he’d gone again to observe from outside. The place was packed. He didn’t even need to ask how the food was—he could tell from the satisfied smiles of the customers leaving, all praising the flavor and saying they would return.

The only complaint anyone had was that the prices were a little high.

But for something unique, high prices were to be expected.

The manager poured a cup of tea for Master Tian and said worriedly, “Sir, this Jiang Ji place won’t be easy to deal with. Our lunchtime business dropped by half today.”

“You went to look?” Master Tian asked.

“I did,” the manager nodded. “And I managed to taste one of their dishes—it’s better than ours.”

Master Tian took a sip of tea. “Have you thought of any countermeasures?”

The manager had been thinking about that ever since he returned. “Their restaurant’s advantage lies in novelty. First, the chili peppers—no one here grows them yet, and they really stimulate the appetite. Second, their dishes are ones we’ve never seen before. But from what I observed, if we can get chilies, our chefs could probably recreate them. So, we need to get our hands on chilies—and we should find out who their head chef is.”

“Not bad,” Master Tian said with a nod. “Do you know whether that building was bought or rented?”

“I heard it was purchased,” replied the manager.

“Look into it.”

“Yes.” The manager glanced at him, then asked cautiously, “Sir, should I send someone to locate their head chef?”

Master Tian thought for a moment and shook his head. “No, I’ll handle that myself. For now, find a few unfamiliar faces—don’t use anyone from our restaurant—and have them line up over there separately. Order every dish on the menu, pack everything to go, and bring it all back for our master chef to taste.”

“Yes, sir,” said the manager, bowing. “I’ll arrange it right away.”

Meanwhile, over at Jiang Ji Dining Hall, business hadn’t slowed down since midday. The lunchtime crowd lasted all the way until the middle of the afternoon, and some guests who got tired of waiting simply made reservations for dinner.

Jiang Yan had taken Zhao Ru and the others home, but Jiang Ji stayed behind. He planned to help out during the first three busy days after opening.

After a short half-hour break, the kitchen crew was busy again.

Because the city curfew started at eight in the evening, dinner service began early—often as early as four or five o’clock.

Han Qingshan checked the supplies for the evening and reported, “Young master, we may not have enough ingredients for dinner. I’ll take some people to buy more.”

“Hold on, let me see.”

Jiang Ji went to the storeroom, took a look, and said, “We close by seven because of curfew. Once it’s past that, we won’t take new customers. What we have should be enough. The pork and lamb from the afternoon won’t be fresh anymore, so don’t buy more. Just get live chickens, ducks, fish, and some vegetables. Everything else we can finish with what’s left.”

“Got it,” Han Qingshan said, sending two men to the market for poultry and fish.

When dinner time came, they noticed something new—many more people were ordering takeout.

Manager Lü quietly told Jiang Ji, “Sir, I think people from other restaurants are coming to order food.”

He pointed toward a young man in gray clothes. “That one’s from Ju Fu Lou on East Street, and the one behind him’s from Fu Ji Tavern.”

Jiang Ji immediately understood. Competitors were too embarrassed to dine in openly, so they sent people to order takeout—trying to study the flavor and the chef’s techniques.

“I know. Don’t worry about them,” Jiang Ji said calmly. “They’re just helping us increase sales. But make sure our staff stays alert—don’t let anyone cause trouble.”

“Understood, sir. I’ll keep watch,” Manager Lü replied.

*

In a private room on the second floor of Xiang Man Lou, Master Tian sat with the manager, the head chef, and two other cooks.

Since the chefs had been busy working all day, they hadn’t seen Jiang Ji’s restaurant for themselves. Now, looking at the large table covered with dishes, they were all stunned.

“Sir, are these really all from Jiang Ji Dining Hall?” one of the chefs asked in disbelief.

Master Tian nodded. “Yes. These were all brought back just now. The roast duck was sold out, so we’ll have to get more tomorrow. There are a few I can’t even name—try them yourselves.”

He pointed at several dishes. “These are the ones made with chili peppers. The red ones are chili, and the green ones too.”

The three chefs exchanged glances, then each picked up chopsticks to taste.

There were twenty-five dishes from Jiang Ji Dining Hall here—everything except the roast duck. Some used chili, some didn’t, and there were also three soups and three vegetable dishes.

The three chefs sampled every single one. The more they ate, the more surprised they became; their faces grew increasingly serious.

When they had finished, Master Tian looked at them and said, “Well? What do you think?”

One chef gritted his teeth. “Sir, if we had those chilies, I’m certain we could make these dishes too.”

Master Tian pointed to a plate of sticky rice ribs. “This one doesn’t have chili. Could you have come up with it yourself?”

The chef fell silent.

Another said quickly, “Sir, we’ll start thinking up some new dishes.”

“You should come up with new dishes.” Master Tian glanced at him. “Every dish at Jiang Ji, except the greens, is completely new. Even their vegetable stir-fry is made differently from ours.”

He turned to the head chef, who had been silent all this time. “Chef Luo, what do you think?”

Chef Luo, the most skilled among them, was a man of about forty whom Master Tian had personally hired from the provincial capital. Studying the spread of unfamiliar dishes before him, he said slowly, “Their chef’s skill truly surpasses mine. I must admit, I’m not his equal.”

Master Tian paused for a moment, then smiled faintly. “No need to be too humble, Chef Luo. You have your own specialties and strengths. But right now, our main task is to study their dishes thoroughly.”

A cook beside him asked cautiously, “Sir, are we going to copy their menu? But we don’t have chili peppers.”

Master Tian shook his head. “Only Jiang Ji has chilies, and their supply isn’t steady—it won’t last forever. If we want to keep our customers, we need to create dishes that can attract them without chili and still outshine theirs.”

He tapped the table lightly but firmly. “Everyone, our restaurant is facing its greatest crisis yet. I need all of you to use your heads—study their cooking, develop new dishes. If we don’t, Xiang Man Lou will close down sooner or later.”

The manager and the three chefs all straightened with tense faces.

Chef Luo took a deep breath and stood up. “Understood, sir. I’ll study their dishes carefully and come up with new recipes.”

The other two hurriedly echoed him. “Us too.”

*

By six in the evening, Jiang Ji’s pork and lamb were completely sold out. Jiang Ji had the manager remove those items from the menu, and the waiters stopped recommending them.

In the main dining hall, a customer asked, “No more twice-cooked pork or roast duck?”

“That’s right, sir. We’ve had a lot of customers today—our pork, lamb, and roast duck are all sold out. But may I recommend the grilled fish? The flavor’s incredible. And the diced chili chicken—once you try it, you’ll definitely want more.”

“Alright, give us those two, plus a platter of marinated duck feet and tongues, and a plate of greens.”

“Very good, sir. Please have a seat—your meal will be out shortly.”

Jiang Ji watched as the staff handled things smoothly, feeling satisfied.

“Uncle Lü,” he said, “once it’s the ninth hour, stop taking new customers. Ask if anyone wants to reserve for tomorrow instead—they can book ahead.”

“Understood, sir,” Manager Lü replied.

By the ninth hour, a few customers still came hoping for takeout, but the greeter explained the situation and helped them reserve tables for the next day’s lunch.

After preparing the last table’s dishes, the kitchen began cleaning up, and the servers tidied the front hall.

Manager Lü handled the accounts while Jiang Ji checked the day’s earnings.

Once the final guests had left and everything was cleaned, curfew time was almost upon them.

Jiang Ji told everyone to head home. Han Qingshan and Xiao An stayed behind to wait for him.

When the manager finished calculating, their numbers matched.

That day’s total revenue came to just over 198 taels—even after the 20% discount. Jiang Ji estimated that business would taper off a bit after the first three days, but it would still be very profitable.

Two trusted men, Yu Yang and Ding Xiaojun—personally assigned by Han Qingshan—were to stay at the shop overnight. Jiang Ji agreed with the arrangement.

There were a lot of copper coins, so they packed them in a chest and stored it in the room where Yu Yang and Ding slept. Han Qingshan reminded them, “Stay alert tonight. Take turns bathing. If anything happens, come find us right away.”

Yu Yang nodded seriously. “Got it, Master. Don’t worry.”

When they returned to the townhouse, Guihua and the others had already heated water and were taking turns bathing.

Seeing Jiang Ji return, one of them who was about to carry water said, “Young master, you’re back. I’ll bring the water over so you can wash first.”

“You go ahead. I’ll wait,” Jiang Ji said, glancing toward those sitting by the kitchen. “How many bath tubs do we have?”

“Just one for men and one for women,” Han Qingshan replied. “Same for the main house.”

Jiang Ji frowned. “Buy a few more tomorrow. As many as can fit in the bathhouse. After working all day, everyone should wash and rest early. Bring the two tubs from the main house over here for tonight—everyone bathe and get to sleep soon. The next few days will still be tiring. After that, things should ease up.”

The workers’ hearts warmed at his thoughtfulness.

They brought over the two tubs, and the bathing went much faster.

…

The next morning, just as the sky was starting to lighten, Han Qingshan went out to the market for supplies and ran into Jiang Ji in the courtyard.

“Going to the market?” Jiang Ji said. “If you find a reliable supplier, have them deliver instead—no need to make the trip every day.”

“Mm, there are a few sellers,” Han Qingshan nodded, “but I feel more at ease picking things myself.” He looked at him and asked, “Young master, you’re up this early?”

“I’m used to getting up early at home. Come on, I’ll go with you and take a look.”

The two pulled a handcart to the market. Yu Yang was already there at the gate, sitting on the cart handle yawning. When he saw them, he straightened up immediately. “Young master, Master.”

The three began shopping together. Over the past two months, Han Qingshan and Yu Yang had often come to buy ingredients, so many of the vendors already recognized them. Han moved skillfully from stall to stall, selecting produce and haggling over prices. Chickens, ducks, and fish were picked out, marked for delivery to the restaurant for weighing and payment.

When they got to the butcher’s stall, Yu Yang suddenly whispered to them, “Young master, Master—someone’s been following us. That man in the gray clothes by Aunt Wu’s stall over there. I’ve seen him since we were picking ducks—he’s been trailing us at a steady distance, not too close, not too far, and he hasn’t bought anything.”

Both Jiang Ji and Han Qingshan glanced back—and sure enough, there was a man in gray.

“Let’s go,” Jiang Ji said calmly. “To the mutton stall up ahead.”

They moved along. Jiang Ji glanced back discreetly and saw that the man had followed again, maintaining the same careful distance, occasionally glancing their way.

Jiang Ji sighed quietly.

Han whispered, “From Xiang Man Lou?”

“Not sure,” Jiang Ji replied. “Looks like you’ll have to keep doing the buying yourselves for now—just to be safe.”

Han nodded. “Alright.”

“Buy from different stalls each day. Don’t let anyone catch onto a pattern.”

“I understand, young master. Don’t worry.”

Having deliveries made was convenient but risky—too easy for someone to tamper with things. Choosing everything personally was safer.

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. “I’ll go to the labor agency today and hire a few more workers. From now on, we’ll buy live ducks for roasting and process them ourselves.”

“Got it.”

Once they finished shopping and returned to the restaurant, the man in gray disappeared after seeing them go inside.

Later that morning, Jiang Ji did indeed go to the labor agency, found Wang Song, and selected four young servants. After completing the paperwork, he brought them straight to the restaurant and handed them over to Han Qingshan to assign duties.

In the south of the city, at the Tian estate, Master Tian met with the man he had sent out.

The servant in gray reported, “Sir, it looks like their cooks all live together in a house in the east part of the city. I followed them home last night—Jiang Ji stays there too. This morning, Jiang Ji went to the market with a man around forty, and another young man was waiting for them there. Since Jiang Ji was with them, I didn’t approach.”

“Jiang Ji went to the market himself?” Master Tian looked surprised.

“Yes. But he didn’t really do the picking—he just watched while the other two handled the shopping.”

“Alright. Keep following and wait for an opportunity. Find out who their head chef is, and be careful—don’t get spotted.”

“Yes, sir.”

After the gray-clad man left, Master Tian summoned his steward. “Go investigate the house he mentioned.”

The steward bowed and left.

For the next three days after opening, Jiang Ji and his team stayed alert, but nothing happened.

Jiang Ji Dining Hall’s reputation spread throughout the entire city, and for three days straight, they were completely full.

On the fourth day, prices returned to normal. Jiang Ji figured most of the curious customers had already tried their food; people wouldn’t dine out every day, so business would probably drop by half.

Yet, by lunchtime, the restaurant was still full—only with fewer people waiting outside.

To their pleasant surprise, quite a few traveling merchants passing through were introduced to the place.

“I used to eat at Xiang Man Lou whenever I passed through,” one trader said with a laugh, “but your food’s way better! From now on, whenever we stop here, we’re eating at your place!”

Many merchants shared that sentiment.

Jiang Ji smiled at Manager Lü. “Looks like our reputation’s really spreading. We’ve even got ‘self-flowing water’ now.”

Manager Lü blinked. “Sir, what kind of water?”

“Hm?” Jiang Ji paused, then caught himself and chuckled. “Ah, nothing—I meant people are recommending us on their own now.”

Manager Lü laughed. “Our dishes are good and our cooking excellent—it’s only natural people would recommend us.”

That afternoon, Jiang Ji finally went home, satisfied.

But as soon as he arrived, Jiang Yan told him, “These past few days, a few people have been coming to the village, asking about the new crops we’ve been growing—chili, lettuce, bitter melon—wanting to know whose fields they’re in and if they can buy from us.”

Jiang Ji raised an eyebrow. “Oh? They asked about us?”

“They did—and about others too.”

“Did anyone sell?”

Jiang Yan shook his head. “Only Uncle Tu Gen’s and the village chief’s tomatoes and peppers are growing well enough to mention, and a few others with peppers, but none are ready to harvest yet. We already told them before—if they’re not saving seeds, they’re to sell all their chilies to us. They agreed. Those buyers offered high prices, but they refused.”

Jiang Ji grinned. “Good.”

Jiang Yan asked how things were at the restaurant, and Jiang Ji told him about being followed at the market.

Jiang Yan frowned slightly. “You’ll have to be careful.”

“I know. I’ve told them to keep buying ingredients themselves and to switch vendors daily. So far, the supplies have been fine.”

Jiang Yan thought for a moment. “It’s not just the ingredients. Remember last time, another restaurant’s chef got poached by competitors for a high price. Be wary of that too.”

“Even if they poach them, it doesn’t matter,” Jiang Ji said with a faint smirk. “At worst, we’d shut down for a month or two and train new chefs.”

He lifted his head, eyes bright with confidence. “If they’ve got the skill—let them try to poach me.”

The orange-red sunset cast a golden glow over his face, his confident smile shining brilliantly. The light caught in Jiang Yan’s dark eyes like scattered stars—suddenly vivid, alive, and breathtaking.

For a moment, Jiang Yan felt his heartbeat falter. He looked at him deeply, then pressed his lips together and turned his gaze away.

…

The next day, Han Qingshan went to the market with three of his men.

As they arrived, a man in gray clothing stopped him.

“Brother, may I have a word with you?”

Han immediately recognized him as the man who had been following them these past few days. He exchanged a glance with Yu Yang and said, “You all go on ahead and start buying the groceries. I’ll catch up in a bit.”

Yu Yang nodded and led the others away.

The gray-clad man took Han aside to a quiet corner. Over the past few days, he had already figured out that Han Qingshan was the head cook and also in charge of operations.

He asked, “Brother, you’re one of the chefs at Jiang Ji Dining Hall, aren’t you?”

Han didn’t answer directly but countered, “And who are you? I don’t think I know you.”

The man smiled. “I’m just a messenger. My name doesn’t matter. Here’s the thing—my master has tasted your cooking and thinks very highly of you. He sincerely invites you to come work for him. You can name your own price.”

Han’s face didn’t change. He had already heard from Manager Lü that a previous restaurant had gone under after Xiang Man Lou poached their chefs.

“May I ask who your master is?”

The man replied with a grin, “The Tian household. If you’re from Changping County, you must have heard of them. The Tian family’s business is large—we’d certainly treat you well.”

Han understood immediately. So it was Xiang Man Lou—they were trying to use the same old trick against Jiang Ji Dining Hall.

But this time, they’d found the wrong target.

“I’m honored that your master thinks so highly of me,” Han said politely. “Please thank him for me. But I have no intention of changing employers.”

The smile on the man’s face froze. “Whatever salary you get at Jiang Ji, the Tian family will double it—triple it if needed. You can set the price.”

“This isn’t about money,” Han said evenly. “Please tell your master that I will never leave the Jiang household—and I will never betray my young master.”

The man looked startled. “You’re from the Jiang household? A servant of his?”

Han nodded. “That’s right.”

“We can buy your freedom,” the man offered.

Han shook his head. “No need. I’m not interested.”

“You wouldn’t even take your freedom?” the man said, astonished.

“I don’t need it.”

Han’s tone was firm, leaving the gray-clad man dumbfounded.

He had never met a servant who refused to be bought free.

“If you’ve got nothing else, I’ll be going,” Han said, taking a few steps away—then stopped and turned back.

The man’s eyes lit up. “Changed your mind?”

“No,” Han said. “I just wanted you to pass along a message to your master.”

“What message?”

“You’ve been looking for the wrong person,” Han said calmly.

“Huh?” The man blinked in confusion.

Han smiled faintly. “All our cooking skills were taught to us by my young master.”

With that, he walked off, leaving the gray-clad man standing there, completely stunned.

When he returned to the Tian estate, he reported everything to Master Tian.

“What did you just say?” Master Tian stood up in disbelief. “Say that again.”

The servant looked nervously at him and repeated, “He said all of their cooking was taught by their young master—meaning Jiang Ji himself.”

“Jiang Ji? He taught them?”

“Yes.”

The most skilled chef in Jiang Ji Dining Hall… was actually its owner?

They couldn’t get chili peppers, and now they couldn’t even poach the chef.

Master Tian stood frozen for a long time, then sank weakly into his chair.

What was this Jiang Ji?

So young—how could he possibly have such extraordinary culinary skill?

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

On the day of the grand opening, it happened to be the academy’s and the yamen’s day off—exactly the date Jiang Ji had chosen.

After breakfast, the whole Jiang family changed into new clothes, dressed neatly, locked up the house, and set off.

At the gate, the village chief and his wife, several clan elders, Uncle Tu Gen’s family, and a few other close relatives and neighbors were waiting for them, all dressed in their best attire. Jiang Ji had invited them to come watch the restaurant’s opening.

“Let’s go,” Jiang Ji said with a wave, and the group headed together toward the city.

The announcement of the restaurant’s official opening at mid-morning had been posted three days earlier. Jiang Ji had also sent out invitations—mostly to villagers, a few county officials and clerks, the heads of the Lin, Sun, Zhang, and Tian families, several constables who had helped them before, and Manager Sun from the tailoring shop.

When they arrived, it was not yet mid-morning. A red carpet had been laid across the entrance, red flowers were arranged on both sides, and a red silk cloth covered the plaque above the door.

Manager Lü and all the staff were already in place. Except for him, everyone wore matching deep-blue uniforms with the words “Jiang Ji Dining Hall” embroidered at the cuffs—so that customers could easily identify the waiters at a glance.

As Jiang Ji led the group inside, Shi Xiaoshan and the waiters stood lined up on both sides, bowing slightly as they greeted,

“Welcome to Jiang Ji Dining Hall.”

The village chief and the others froze for a moment, surprised to recognize three familiar faces among the waiters—young men from their own village.

Tao’er and Dazhu spotted their older brother Xiao An. Dazhu tugged excitedly at Aunt Xiufang’s sleeve. “Mother, look, it’s big brother!”

After being hired, Xiao An and two other villagers who lived far away stayed at Jiang Ji’s city residence since it was too late to return home after their shifts.

Only now did the villagers realize that Jiang Ji’s family also owned a three-courtyard residence in the city.

“I see him—don’t distract him while he’s working,” Aunt Xiufang said, already spotting her son. Seeing his disciplined, well-trained posture, she called out as she passed, “Work hard, alright?”

Xiao An, two years younger than Jiang Ji, smiled and nodded.

Jiang Ji showed the group around the first floor, then brought them upstairs to a large private room reserved for special guests—it could hold two tables.

Waiters brought out tea, melon seeds, and pastries while everyone chatted.

After about half an hour, the invited guests began to arrive.

Manager Sun from the clothing shop came, and Jiang Ji led her to the private room where the village group was. He had Zhao Ru personally receive her.

Aunt Xiufang knew her as well, and soon the three women were sitting together, chatting lively.

Manager Sun had been personally invited by Zhao Ru. Translated on Hololo novels. When she found out that this new restaurant was run by Zhao Ru’s family—and that the widely talked-about Jiang Ji who had sold crop seeds in the county was actually Zhao Ru’s son—she was stunned.

“I was truly surprised,” Manager Sun said with a smile. “I didn’t expect it was all your family’s work. Congratulations!”

Zhao Ru smiled. “Thank you, Manager Sun.”

Manager Sun said curiously, “Now that your family’s doing well, you’re still making clothes for our shop? You really can’t stay idle.”

“I sew when I have free time,” Zhao Ru replied. “By the way, Manager Sun, how are the clothes selling in the provincial capital?”

“They sell very well. Some other shops have started making similar styles, but none match the designs you made for me,” Manager Sun said, nodding. Then she added in a lower voice, “They’re even being sold in the capital now.”

Zhao Ru and Aunt Xiufang were both amazed. Aunt Xiufang asked, “In the capital? They must be even more expensive there, right?”

Manager Sun nodded. “Of course. The ladies in the capital are very particular. They want only the finest fabrics, many of which we can’t even get here. The materials are supplied directly by the capital’s embroiderers—we can only send them the samples.”

Both women were in awe.

Downstairs, the heads of the four major families arrived one after another, bringing congratulatory gifts. Jiang Ji greeted them and led them to another private room.

Master Lin laughed heartily and congratulated him. “Brother Jiang, congratulations on your grand opening! May your business flourish!”

“Thank you! I’ll gladly take your kind words,” Jiang Ji said with a smile and a respectful bow. “Masters Sun and Zhang are already here—they’re upstairs in the private room.”

“They’ve arrived? Good, I’ll go join them,” said Master Lin, heading upstairs cheerfully.

Just then, Master Tian arrived. “Master Lin, Brother Jiang.”

Both men turned. Jiang Ji smiled. “Master Tian, welcome.”

“Congratulations, Brother Jiang—may your business prosper,” Master Tian said with a clasped salute.

“Thank you, Master Tian.” Jiang Ji returned the gesture.

Master Tian’s servant handed the congratulatory gift to Manager Lü. Glancing around the restaurant’s interior—orderly and refined—Master Tian nodded approvingly. “Not bad at all. I saw this place being renovated before and wondered who the new owner might be. Didn’t expect it to be you. You really kept this under wraps.”

Jiang Ji smiled. “You flatter me, Master Tian. It’s my first time running a shop; I didn’t know much, so Manager Lü handled most of the arrangements. I haven’t been here often.”

Master Tian gave him a long look and smiled meaningfully. Master Lin, noticing the subtle tension, laughed and said, “The heads of the Zhang and Sun families are already here. Shall we go up?”

“Yes, yes—Master Tian, Master Lin, please, this way to the private room upstairs.”

Jiang Ji led them to the room where Masters Zhang and Sun were already seated. They chatted for a while until Jiang Yan came in. “Master Chen, Master Xu, and the deputy magistrate have arrived.”

“The officials came too?” Master Lin stood up with a laugh. “Then we must greet them properly.”

“Of course,” Master Sun agreed, also rising.

Hearing this, Master Tian glanced at Jiang Ji, smiling with a tone of hidden meaning. “It’s not easy to have the county officials attend. Brother Jiang certainly has influence.”

Back when his own restaurant, Xiang Man Lou, opened, Master Tian had invited Master Xu—but Xu never came.

“Hahaha, it’s only because I purposely chose a rest day for the opening,” Jiang Ji said cheerfully. “The officials happened to be free, and this way it doesn’t violate any rules.”

Master Tian paused at that. He recalled that Xiang Man Lou had opened on a so-called “lucky day,” not an official rest day. Master Xu had sent a gift—but hadn’t shown up himself.

Master Tian: “…”

Still, he knew full well that Xu’s absence hadn’t just been about propriety. Clearly, this so-called “villager” Jiang Ji had a clever way of doing things.

Master Lin chuckled. “Come on, let’s go meet the officials.”

The group went next door to the private room where the magistrates were waiting. After exchanging greetings and chatting briefly, the auspicious time arrived.

Jiang Ji stood and said, “Honored sirs, masters, it’s time for the unveiling. Would you prefer to watch from here or come downstairs?”

Master Xu replied, “We’ll watch from here.”

“Very well. Please make yourselves comfortable; I’ll have the waiter come in and take your orders while you watch.” Jiang Ji knew their rules and didn’t press them further.

“Understood. Go handle your business,” said Master Xu.

Jiang Ji sent a waiter to introduce the menu and take their orders, then escorted the other guests downstairs for the ceremony. The officials remained upstairs, observing discreetly.

Downstairs, the sound of firecrackers burst through the air, joined by the beat of drums and gongs. Two lions—one red, one gold—leapt out from both sides of the street, bounding and twirling in front of the restaurant entrance, their movements lively and precise, drawing a crowd of onlookers.

After a while, the two lions stopped before Jiang Ji, signaling the eye-dotting ritual.

Shi Xiaoshan stepped forward, holding a dish of cinnabar and a brush. Manager Lü loudly called out auspicious phrases. Jiang Ji and the village chief each dipped the brush in red and dotted the lions’ eyes, then tucked a red envelope into each lion’s mouth.

As soon as the envelopes disappeared, the lions seemed to come alive—dancing and prancing even more vigorously than before, earning cheers and applause from the crowd.

During the performance, a table and stool had been set up at the entrance as a platform for the “plucking of the greens.”

As the drums quickened, the two lions circled and competed, leaping onto the stools, then onto the table. After a brief struggle, the red lion bit down on the hanging lettuce and red envelope—successfully completing the ritual.

“Good!”

The crowd burst into applause and cheers.

The red lion then shook its head proudly and trotted over to Jiang Ji, “spitting out” the lettuce and red packet into his arms. Smiling broadly, Jiang Ji accepted them and rewarded the lion with another red envelope.

With the lion dance complete, it was time to unveil the signboard.

“Unveiling the sign—may fortune flow endlessly!” Manager Lü proclaimed.

Jiang Ji pulled down the red cloth, revealing the plaque that read “Jiang Ji Dining Hall.”

“Jiang Ji Dining Hall—what a fine name!”

“And those characters—so bold and powerful!”

The calligraphy, written by Jiang Yan, was indeed exceptional.

Amid the applause, Jiang Ji stepped forward and addressed the crowd with a smile. “Good people of the town and honored guests—today, our Jiang Ji Dining Hall opens for business! For the first three days, everything is twenty percent off. Everyone’s welcome to come and try our food!”

The audience applauded again. Jiang Ji continued, “All our dishes are new creations, ones you’ve never tasted before! Don’t miss this chance. Let me first show you ten of them.”

Someone in the crowd murmured, “Huh, what kind of opening is this? He’s introducing dishes now?”

“Maybe he’s afraid no one will try them.”

“Well, Xiang Man Lou is just down the street. If he doesn’t do something fresh, he’ll never compete with them.”

Jiang Ji heard the whispers but paid them no mind. Smiling, he called out, “First dish—Sliced Pork in Chili Broth! Second dish—Poached Fish in Chili Broth!”

Then, a waiter brought out a tall scroll painting depicting the two dishes in vivid, mouthwatering detail, with the names written beside them. The painting—done by Jiang Yan—served both as advertising and as future wall décor once the ceremony ended.

Two other waiters carried the actual dishes, parading them around before the cheering crowd.

“Boiled sliced pork?”

“Boiled fish?”

“What’s that red stuff floating on top of the soup? I’ve never seen it before.”

“Me neither, but it smells amazing.”

Jiang Ji explained, “That red on top is chili pepper—it’s not something grown around here.”

“Not grown here?”

“Then… is it even edible?”

“It looks really appetizing though.”

The waiters placed the two dishes on the front table, while the scroll painting of them was hung behind the counter on the wall.

Jiang Ji continued introducing more dishes. “The third dish: Squirrel-shaped Mandarin Fish. The fourth: Roast Duck.”

The waiters brought up two more plates and another painting.

“That fish looks beautiful.”

“Roast duck? Why are there so many little dishes with it—cucumber, that looks like dough sheets, and scallions too?”

“How do you even eat this?”

“This roast duck doesn’t look dry at all—it’s still tender inside.”

“If it’s not roasted through, then how’s it made?”

“How should I know?”

The crowd murmured in fascination as they studied the unfamiliar dishes.

From upstairs, at the window, Master Lin smiled. “Brother Jiang really knows how to surprise people.”

Master Tian, however, frowned as he gazed down at the first few dishes being served.

Chili peppers?

Indeed, those didn’t exist locally. Was this the secret behind Jiang Ji’s restaurant?

But from what he’d heard, not many villagers were growing them yet—and they weren’t even ready for harvest. Where did Jiang Ji get his supply?

Had he bought them earlier from that traveling merchant?

He wondered what those chilies tasted like. If the flavor was good, Jiang Ji’s restaurant might actually steal quite a bit of business from his own.

But once Jiang Ji ran out of chilies—then what?

Hmm. No need to panic yet. Chilies might be novel, but they’re scarce. And who knows if the taste will even catch on?

No point losing composure now.

Master Tian calmly continued watching the lively scene below.

Soon, ten dishes were laid out. Jiang Ji announced, “This entire table is free for everyone to sample! The roast duck should be eaten with the sauce, wrapped in the thin dough with cucumber slices. Come try it—but no pushing!”

The moment people heard “free tasting,” those standing closest rushed forward, quick as lightning, grabbing chopsticks and reaching for the nearest dish—Sliced Pork in Chili Broth.

The first man to taste it chewed once, his face tightening at the strong flavor. But after another bite or two, his eyes suddenly lit up.

“Heavens—what is this flavor? It’s delicious!”

“Ssss—this taste! Is this that thing the shopkeeper mentioned?”

“This meat is tender and fiery—so good! Waiter! Save me a table! I’m going home to get my family!”

“Hey, don’t hog the front! Let us try too!”

“Ow! Who stepped on my foot!”

“Good lord, this roast duck—crispy skin, tender meat! How do they make it like this? It’s incredible! Waiter, how much for a roast duck?”

“Xiao Gui, quick! I’ll go grab a table inside—run home and tell Father and everyone to come here for lunch! If they miss this, they’ll regret it!”

Jiang Ji smiled as he reminded them, “Don’t push! Once you’ve tried it, let others taste too. If you didn’t get any, come inside for a full meal—everything’s twenty percent off! Only for three days!”

“Waiter! Save me a table—hurry, six people! Here’s a deposit—I’m Liu Dahu from Willow Alley, I’ll be back soon!”

“Me! Eight people! I’m Fu Dongming from East Street! Here’s a deposit too—save my table, I’ll be right back!”

“I want a private room!”

The moment people tasted the food and liked it, they didn’t even step inside before grabbing the waiters’ hands, trying to pay deposits to reserve tables.

Shi Xiaoshan quickly instructed Xiao An and the others to bring out table markers. Each guest received one. “Dear guests, no deposit needed! Just bring the table tag back within half an hour—after that, we can’t hold it.”

“Got it, got it! Won’t even take fifteen minutes—we’ll be right back!”

The entrance grew packed with people, everyone eager to taste the new dishes. But with only ten plates, they were gone in moments.

The crowd left licking their lips, clearly wanting more. Many sent their servants running home to gather friends and family, while others grabbed a table tag and sprinted home themselves.

It wasn’t even noon yet, and already more than half of the thirty-eight tables on the first floor were reserved.

From upstairs, Lord Chen watched the commotion and shook his head with a smile. “This Jiang Ji—he’s not afraid to take risks.”

Magistrate Xu stroked his beard. “He’s certainly bold.”

Master Lin chimed in, “Honored sirs, Brother Jiang’s restaurant looks packed already. Seats may run short—why don’t we share a table?”

Originally, Jiang Ji had set aside two separate private rooms for the officials so they wouldn’t be disturbed.

Lord Chen nodded. “Alright. One table will do—no need to take up two rooms.”

“Agreed.”

Master Lin went to the door and informed the upstairs waiter, who immediately nodded and went down to tell Jiang Ji.

Meanwhile, in another private room, the village chief and the others had been watching the scene below in astonishment.

“My heavens, they’re fiercer than us country folk!”

“One guy’s shoe came off while fighting for a bite—nearly killed me laughing.”

“Another one dropped food all over his clothes!”

“The food must really be that good—no one would act like that otherwise.”

“I heard from Xiao An that it really is delicious.”

“Looks like nearly every table downstairs is booked.”

“Business is booming.”

At the doorway, Xiao An and the others were cleaning up the messy tables and dishes, while Jiang Ji looked at the chaos, half laughing and half sighing.

Jiang Yan stood beside him with a smile. “Very effective.”

“Yeah.” Jiang Ji glanced at the first floor—already more than half full, and the rest of the tables were all reserved. He nodded in satisfaction. “The seating rate’s looking good.”

Manager Lü came over to report, “Sir, the second floor’s fully booked too.”

Jiang Ji nodded. “Alright, Manager Lü, I’ll leave things here to you. I’m going to check the kitchen.”

“Don’t worry, sir,” said Manager Lü with a broad grin.

He truly hadn’t expected the opening to go so smoothly. He’d been anxious about drawing customers, but it turned out he’d worried for nothing. Just the first ten dishes had drawn a crowd—and there were still more than a dozen others on the menu.

Jiang Ji looked toward Jiang Yan. “Why don’t you go greet the officials?”

“Sure,” Jiang Yan agreed.

Jiang Ji headed to the kitchen. Han Qingshan was leading everyone there in a flurry of activity—washing vegetables, chopping, stir-frying—the place was bustling with energy.

There weren’t any dishes to wash yet, and two of the aunts were helping outside with cleaning vegetables. Even Xiang’er and Xiao Yi were lending a hand at the washbasin.

Han Qingshan’s team was focusing on dishes for the invited guests upstairs. Other customers had only just begun ordering—most were waiting for their families to arrive, giving the kitchen a brief moment to catch up.

Jiang Ji said, “Uncle Han, everyone—the tables are all reserved now. Guests will be coming in fast. We’ll have to work hard today!”

“Full house already?” Ding Xiaojun said in disbelief. “That fast?”

Everyone turned to look at Jiang Ji.

He laughed. “That’s right—full house. In about half an hour, they’ll all start arriving. Time to get busy.”

Han Qingshan smiled and shouted, “A full house is a good thing! Everyone, let’s keep it up!”

“Got it!” came the cheerful responses.

Seeing their enthusiasm, Jiang Ji went next door to the roasting room.

There were six duck ovens in total, each manned by someone he’d personally trained.

The ducks had been delivered already plucked that morning, and the team had prepared them early. Now the roaster just had to watch the heat, flip them as needed, and keep new ones going in.

Since they didn’t know how many would sell, Jiang Ji had prepared only thirty roast ducks for the day.

“How long have these been roasting?”

“The first batch’s been in for a quarter hour; these were just put in.”

“Alright.” Jiang Ji checked each oven carefully, reminding them, “Watch the temperature.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the timing down.”

“Good.”

Before long, the customers began arriving. Jiang Ji stayed downstairs a bit, observing the flow.

Most of the guests were brought by others—people who hadn’t seen or tasted the dishes themselves and were skeptical of their friends’ praise.

“Third Brother, is it really as good as you said?”

“Of course! You think I’d drag you here for nothing? Didn’t you see the crowd outside? First day open and it’s packed! The waiter at the door said all seats are full—only table turnovers left. Lucky I reserved earlier, or we’d be waiting for someone else to finish eating!”

“If it’s not good, you’re dead meat, I’m telling you.”

“Relax—it’s amazing!”

That was the general tone of most conversations.

Upstairs, three of the private rooms Jiang Ji had reserved for guests—the one for the county officials, two for the villagers, and one for the constables—had already started receiving food.

Everyone stared in astonishment at the dishes being laid out.

Master Lin sighed. “I must say, I’ve never seen dishes like these in my life.”

Magistrate Xu said, “I’ve been to Jiang Ji’s house a few times and eaten with him, but even then, I’ve only seen two or three of these.”

Master Zhang looked toward Master Tian. “Seems like you’ll have some competition, Master Tian.”

All eyes turned to him. Master Tian paused, then smiled faintly. “Competition? Hardly—I love good food. The better it tastes, the happier I am. Let’s all try it, shall we? Lord Chen, please.”

Lord Chen laughed, picking up his chopsticks. “Come, everyone—let’s eat.”

Once he’d started, the others followed suit.

“This… this chili flavor—it’s incredible.”

“These dishes really do taste amazing.”

“Not bad at all.”

“This roast duck is exquisite. Try it.”

Master Tian sampled each dish one by one. With every bite, his expression tightened slightly. By the time he’d finished all twelve dishes, he could no longer smile.

He already understood—Jiang Ji Dining Hall was destined to take the city by storm.

Xiang Man Lou didn’t stand a chance.

Unless… they managed to get chili peppers too.

But even without them, Jiang Ji’s food simply tasted better than Xiang Man Lou’s.

Take the roast duck, for example. Xiang Man Lou had roast duck as well—but theirs couldn’t compare at all.

He examined a slice closely: the skin golden and glossy, the meat inside still full of juice, crisp on the outside yet tender and fragrant within.

Completely different from theirs—their skin turned charred, their meat dry and tough, never this crisp or juicy.

How had they made such perfectly roasted duck?

They’d need to find out who Jiang Ji’s head chef was, Master Tian thought grimly.

At the table, everyone else was focused on savoring the food.

Master Zhang, sitting diagonally across from Master Tian, caught the change in his expression and smiled faintly.

He had originally thought that Jiang Ji’s massive cotton purchases would first affect the Zhang family’s business. Unexpectedly, the first to take a hit would be the Tian family.

And judging by the quality of this meal, Xiang Man Lou really couldn’t compete.

He just wondered what Jiang Ji planned to do with all that cotton he’d been collecting.

Everyone at the table knew Master Tian was probably feeling quite conflicted, so no one brought it up. They simply chatted idly about other topics instead.

The truth was clear—the food really was good. Flavor couldn’t be faked.

Downstairs in the main hall, as more dishes were served, all the earlier doubts quickly vanished, replaced entirely by praise.

“This thing called chili—who’d have thought adding just a little could make food taste this amazing? Where can you even buy it?”

“You can’t. It’s not sold anywhere else—only here.”

“My heavens, these ribs smell incredible!”

“What’s this fish called again? Grilled fish? Whatever it is, it tastes amazing.”

“Er Lang, stop eating so much rice—eat more of the dishes.”

“But the food goes so well with rice! I can’t help it!”

“This roast duck is way better than Xiang Man Lou’s.”

“Every single dish here is better than Xiang Man Lou’s!”

“Third Brother, you did good bringing us here today!”

“Tomorrow we’re coming back! I want to try everything on the menu!”

“Let’s come again tonight too.”

The kitchen was in full chaos from how busy it was. After greeting the guests upstairs, Jiang Ji hurriedly grabbed a quick bite himself before rushing into the kitchen to help.

Seeing him, Han Qingshan quickly said, “Sir, let us handle it. You should go tend to the guests.”

“It’s fine. They’re still eating—they won’t need me yet. You all take turns to eat, though; we’ve still got plenty of customers waiting outside. It’s going to be a long day.”

Rolling up his sleeves, Jiang Ji jumped in and started stir-frying himself. He didn’t stop until Jiang Yan came to tell him that the officials had finished eating. Then he washed his hands and went out to see them off.

The dining hall was full, every table of customers eating happily. Outside the entrance, many more people sat waiting under the eaves for a seat to open.

On its very first day, Jiang Ji Dining Hall had become an overnight sensation.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, not at all.”

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

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

The village chief was shocked. “Really?”

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

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

Qiangzi asked, “What’s up, Uncle?”

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

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

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

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

“This is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Got it.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Got it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everyone watched intently—including Magistrate Xu and Jiang Yan.

The chief gripped the wooden handle and began rotating it.

“Can this really draw water up?”

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

“Probably won’t lift much.”

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

Qiangzi’s eyes widened. “!”

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

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

“My heavens, it’s bringing up water!”

“Is it really working?”

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

“How does turning that thing lift the water?”

“This is incredible!”

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

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

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

“Got it, I’ll get some.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No more hauling water now!”

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

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

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

“Village Chief, can I try turning it?”

The chief laughed happily. “Go ahead.”

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

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

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

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

The villagers were shocked.

“Jiang Ji?”

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

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

Jiang Yan: “…”

“Archi… what?” the crowd echoed blankly.

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

“A foreigner?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After another look around, Magistrate Xu left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve decided to raise ducks?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Each clump looked lush and vibrant—a beautiful sight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course. I’ll be there.”

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would he be willing to come back?”

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

“Sounds good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

“Tell me the details.”

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

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

The manager hesitated. “Maybe… a supervisor?”

Master Tian waved his hand. “Go on.”

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

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

The manager nodded. “Yes.”

“What’s their monthly pay?”

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

Master Tian raised his eyebrows. “That high?”

“Yes, it’s a bit higher than ours.”

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

The manager shook his head. “No.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir.”

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Xiao An nodded. “I’ll go.”

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

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

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

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

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

Manager Lü nodded and called the first person in.

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

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

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

Introducing himself first—definitely confident and sociable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shi Xiaoshan nodded, signed his name, and left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei both looked around curiously.

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

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

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

Han Qingshan led all the servants to greet their masters.

“Good day, Madam.”

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

“Good day, Young Lady.”

“Good day, Third Young Master.”

“Good day, Fourth Young Master.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crack! Crack! Crack!

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

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

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

“What do you think? Not bad, right?”

Zhao Ru nodded. “Good—very good.”

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

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

“Really?”

“Really. Pick whichever you want.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So the group followed Jiang Ji back to the village.

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

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

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

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

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

That was everyone’s question.

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

Everyone: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not open yet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

On the way back to town, everyone started chatting.

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

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

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

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

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

Everyone immediately fell silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

Many villagers asked him about it when they saw him.

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

“Really? We can apply?”

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

“Got it. How much will the pay be?”

“Not decided yet.”

“When will you start hiring?”

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

“Alright, we’ll wait for your word.”

“Where’s the restaurant?”

“On North Street.”

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

“Not too bad.”

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ll collect them back every evening?”

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now everyone knew which one he was.

“Ah, so that’s Jiang Ji!”

“So this is the young man himself.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, we’ll do as you say!”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not teasing you,” he said.

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

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

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

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

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾