Weighing the lesser of two evils, in order to survive, they would rather stay in the unfamiliar Hongye County than go back to Yanzhou Prefecture.
With these refugees around, the grain prices in Hongye County and even Qizhou Prefecture probably wouldn’t come down anytime soon.
County Magistrate Lu Zhengheng looked at the densely packed shanties outside the city, feeling a splitting headache. He once again submitted a memorial to the imperial court, asking them to take action against those deadweights in Yanzhou Prefecture, but there had been no reply yet.
The Jiang family’s meat stall had also gone from opening once every three days, to once every five days, once every seven days, and even once every ten days.
There was no way around it. With grain prices so high, poor families were saving even the bran—who still had spare grain to feed pigs?
If it weren’t for the fact that after spring arrived, the new batch of wild vegetables had started growing, and wild vegetable porridge cooked with bran could barely fill their stomachs, these families might have been forced to sell their sons and daughters.
With the family’s slaughtered meat business doing poorly, the braised meat business also suffered from lack of ingredients. Song Shi’an’s monthly medicinal expense of three taels of silver remained constant, and they still owed ten taels of silver to the village head Zou’s family. If they didn’t find a way to increase income, their income wouldn’t match their expenses—outsiders might grow suspicious.
So Jiang Chun found a job at the Qiu family grain store, carrying sacks and bundles, responsible for loading and unloading goods, earning thirty wen per day.
Song Shi’an wouldn’t let her go. For this, they even had a quarrel.
He threw all the 1,500 taels of silver notes he had earned from selling paintings to Lu Zhengheng in front of her, his tone cold: “The sacks of the grain store each weigh one shi. If you go and do such heavy labor carrying sacks to support me, where does that put me as a man? Take this money and spend it. As for the money for finding your relatives, I’ll think of another way.”
At worst, he could cover his face and go “borrow” the silver from those useless officials in Yanzhou Prefecture to spend, and by the way, hand the evidence of their crimes over to Lu Zhengheng so he could vent his anger for being taken advantage of by those people.
Jiang Chun bent down, picked up the silver notes that had fallen to the ground one by one, and didn’t get angry. She smiled and said: “It’s not like our family is truly out of money. The reason I found another job is precisely to cover up the fact that our family has money, so as not to draw attention.”
As she spoke, she folded the silver notes neatly, pulled his hand over, placed them into his hand, and soothed: “I’m strong. I can carry a one-shi sack on each shoulder without a problem. Don’t worry, I won’t exhaust myself.”
Song Shi’an pursed his lips, his heart filled with frustration, hating for the first time that his body wasn’t strong, dragging her down like this.
But the current situation wasn’t good. If it were in normal times, Jiang Chun had a fierce reputation—no matter how the Jiang family showed some wealth, no one would dare harbor evil intentions.
But now, with refugees flooding Hongye County, if the Jiang family didn’t act cautiously and got suspected of having a deep family fortune, that would be bad.
After all, no matter how formidable Jiang Chun was, no matter how hard to deal with Jiang He was, two fists couldn’t beat four hands. If a group of people swarmed in to loot, they wouldn’t be able to hold out.
For now, they could only let her work hard for a while.
And this hardship lasted all the way into the hot summer of June.
The imperial court finally responded: they dismissed the Yanzhou prefectural governor from office. Then the Ministry of Revenue allocated another sum of silver, instructing the acting assistant governor who was temporarily filling in as Yanzhou prefectural governor to purchase grain from nearby prefectures to ensure that the returning refugees had grain to buy.
They also issued documents to the prefectural governors of several prefectures near Yanzhou, instructing them to arrange for the refugees to return home as soon as possible.
The refugees gathered outside Hongye County finally began to gradually disperse.
When Song Shi’an heard this, he immediately told Jiang Chun to quit the sack-carrying job at the grain store.
Lately, the weather had been hot, and with Jiang Chun going in and out of the grain store, her face and neck had become noticeably tanned, and she had even suffered from heatstroke once.
Her body had always been strong. All through the winter, even Jiang He had caught a cold, but she alone had been perfectly fine.
But this summer, she ended up getting heatstroke, lying at home groaning for three days before she finally recovered—this made Song Shi’an ache with heartache.
Yet she was so stubborn—no matter how he tried to persuade her, she wouldn’t listen. As soon as she recovered a bit, she went back to work.
It made him so angry that he tore up the stack of papers he had just copied out. Afterward, he realized what he’d done and felt both distressed about the paper money and the ink money, wanting to give himself a good beating. But he was also afraid that if he hurt his own body, he’d have to spend money on medicine again.
That was what you’d call sheer frustration.
Now that the refugees had dispersed, he finally found an excuse to persuade her.
Jiang Chun thought about it seriously, then smiled and said: “Alright, I’ll quit. Anyway, in another two months, once husband finishes his medicine, he can stop taking it. Other people probably won’t suspect anything.”
After all, she had genuinely carried sacks at the grain store for five whole months—everyone in Hongye Town had seen it with their own eyes.
Song Shi’an let out a sigh of relief, his face showing a smile, and said: “I’m going to practice sword.”
He picked up a thin bamboo stick from behind the door, walked slowly into the courtyard, and began wielding the bamboo stick as a sword.
Jiang Chun moved a small stool and sat off to the side, acting as an audience.
After ten months of taking medicinal decoctions, Song Shi’an’s body had basically recovered. Starting last month, he had begun practicing swordsmanship to strengthen his body.
At first, he only practiced once in the evening, but once his strength caught up, he began practicing in the morning too, steadfastly twice a day, rain or shine.
After practicing for almost two months, Jiang Chun discovered that his single abdominal muscle had turned into two, and there were two more slowly taking shape.
Now, every night, Jiang Chun had to inspect the progress of his abs. Estimating at this rate, in another two months, if not eight-pack abs, at least six-pack abs were guaranteed.
Tsk tsk, just thinking about it made her salivate.
But Jiang Chun considered herself someone who had transcended low-level tastes (?), so compared to abs, she actually liked watching him practice sword even more.
Song Shi’an’s sword style followed a light and nimble path—graceful as a startled swan, elegant as a swimming dragon, with swift turns and agile moves, yet each strike was fierce and sharp.
Clearly, he was a three-dimensional person, but no matter how one looked, he seemed like a breathtakingly beautiful painting.
It gave Jiang Chun a bit of an unreal feeling—every time she watched, she was utterly mesmerized.
And then, for some inexplicable reason, she ended up memorizing the entire set of sword techniques.
That evening, after Song Shi’an finished practicing, Jiang Chun took the bamboo stick from his hands and began swinging it around, imitating his movements.
After finishing all the moves, she raised her chin at Song Shi’an with a proud air and said smugly: “So, how about it, am I impressive? I actually memorized all your moves—do you think I’m a natural martial arts genius?”
Song Shi’an’s mouth twitched, and he gave a sharp-tongued evaluation: “A martial arts genius? Martial arts waste material is more like it. After all, it’s rare to find someone who can learn every single move wrong like you.”
Jiang Chun looked as if struck by lightning, utterly incredulous: “Impossible! I clearly followed your stance exactly—how could I have learned all the moves wrong?”
Song Shi’an also found it amusing, but he didn’t dare laugh, because otherwise, she’d definitely get mad. He could only let out a sigh.
Then he said: “My sword technique follows a light and nimble path—it’s not suitable for you. If you’re interested in martial arts, when we get back—cough, when the time comes, I’ll ask someone to find you a master who specializes in strong and fierce fist techniques to teach you.”
Jiang Chun happily jumped up, then ran over and threw herself into his arms, exclaiming with joy: “Husband is so good to me! Tonight, I must give you a proper reward.”
Song Shi’an’s gaze flickered slightly. Lately, she had been so exhausted from carrying sacks that she would collapse into bed at night and fall asleep in no time, having no romantic thoughts about him at all.
He hadn’t kissed her for quite a while now, let alone kissed anywhere else.
Ahem, he really did miss it a little.
—
Nowadays, the weather was hot, so the two of them would bathe once every night before going to bed. Tonight was no exception.
Tonight happened to be the sixteenth; the moon was like a round disc hanging high in the sky.
The windows had already been changed—gone were the white cotton paper coverings used for windproofing and warmth; they had been replaced with breathable thin gauze. The curtains had also been switched out from cotton cloth to newly-made linen curtains.
Moonlight shone through the gaps in the gauze and linen, spilling into the west room. It was brighter than lighting an oil lamp.
Jiang Chun simply blew out the oil lamp, then climbed onto the kang and lay down on the woven reed mat.
Song Shi’an, as if on a well-worn path, leaned over and buried his face in front of her chest.
Jiang Chun couldn’t help laughing and crying, reaching out to rub his head, muttering: “It was one thing to sleep cuddled together in the cold winter, but it’s such a hot day now—don’t you feel hot sticking together like this?”
Song Shi’an tilted his head slightly, and said in a quiet tone: “Back then, wasn’t it someone who, with both threats and temptations and even force, absolutely had to sleep holding me? And now you’re suddenly turning around and disliking it. So it’s true what they say—when you’ve had too much, you don’t treasure it anymore?”
Jiang Chun followed along his words, deliberately teasing him: “Back then, you were a delicate, fragile, sickly beauty. Now, your body is getting stronger day by day, even your abs are training up to four blocks—you’ve turned into a beautiful young warrior. I, who only loves delicate, sickly beauties, wouldn’t I naturally lose interest in you?”
Song Shi’an clenched his back molars, coldly snorted: “Truly lost interest?”
Before Jiang Chun could answer, he added blandly: “I was originally going to kiss you, but since you’ve lost interest in me, then let’s forget it.”
Jiang Chun immediately changed her tune: “Don’t, I was just joking with you! How could I possibly lose interest in husband? I’m willing to be kissed by husband for a lifetime!”
Song Shi’an hooked up the corners of his mouth in satisfaction—he just knew this woman was still infatuated with him.
He tilted his head slightly and took one of her pink grapes into his mouth, licking, sucking, biting, and teasing it, playing with all kinds of tricks.
When he finished with one, he moved on to the other.
Jiang Chun was kissed until her breathing quickened, her teeth tightly pressing her lips, yet she still couldn’t stop letting out soft hums.
When passion surged, she twisted her body in discomfort, pleading with Song Shi’an: “Husband, it feels so bad… How about we formally consummate tonight?”
Song Shi’an had also been caught up in the moment, but this sentence was like a bucket of cold water, dousing him instantly.
He quickly let go, then firmly rejected her: “No. I’m still taking medicine to regulate my body. If we consummate now, and you accidentally conceive, the fetus might be affected.”
Jiang Chun was convinced by his reasoning.
But the feeling of being burned by desire was unbearable. After a moment of silence, her eyes turned, and she leaned close to his ear, softly whispering: “Husband, you could use here… to consummate with me.”
As she spoke, she lifted her hand and stroked his lips.
Song Shi’an’s phoenix eyes widened in shock.
What—what did she mean?
Did she want him to use his mouth—that, that place?
She, she, she actually made such a request?
She, she, she really had not a shred of shyness, huh!
Jiang Chun, seeing that he wasn’t moving, continued to twist her body, almost twisting herself into a pretzel, her mouth whining incessantly: “Aiya, I’m so uncomfortable… Husband… it’s killing me…”
Song Shi’an: “……”
He closed his eyes and let out a long, deep sigh.
Then his head moved downward, slowly pressing against it.
Jiang Chun’s eyes suddenly widened in shock.
Eh hey? He actually really went and did it?
She had just casually said it, fully expecting that he would definitely refuse, and then she could retreat to the second-best option, asking him to use his hand to help.
This was a negotiation technique she had learned from books in her previous life—namely, first propose an outrageous suggestion, and after it was rejected, she could present a less outrageous backup plan. With the outrageous suggestion as a buffer, the backup plan would be relatively easier for the other party to accept.
But she never thought she wouldn’t even get the chance to play her move.
This husband is worth keeping—if he’s got a mouth, he really dares to kiss!