Jiang Chun, carrying the small silver pieces she got back, happily returned home and ran up in front of Song Shi’an to show off: “Look, this is the medicine money Granny compensated you for.”
After saying that, she ran off to find the little scale at home, placed that piece of broken silver on it, and weighed it.
Then she let out a “shit!”: “Only four qian and nine li. I just knew that dead old woman wouldn’t let herself suffer a loss. Sure enough.”
Song Shi’an: “……”
She actually managed to swindle nearly half a liang of silver from Li-shi, that stingy freak who only ever takes advantage of others and absolutely never lets others take advantage of her. That really was rare.
At least the Jiang Chun from the previous life couldn’t do that.
What is this called? Evil people get ground down by other evil people.
Seeing him remain silent, Jiang Chun unhappily shouted: “Hey, I went through all that trouble to get back your medicine money, and you won’t even praise me?”
Song Shi’an was silent for a moment. He knew that if he didn’t go along with her, she definitely wouldn’t let it go, and who knows how much of a fuss she’d make.
So he had no choice but to give a little praise: “To be able to get silver money out of Li-shi, that stingy freak, you’re very capable.”
Jiang Chun immediately broke into a bright smile, and “humbly” said: “Just average, just average, third best in Great Zhou.”
Song Shi’an: “……”
Although a bit speechless, in his heart he was piqued by curiosity at her words. He couldn’t help but ask: “Then who are first and second?”
Jiang Chun rolled her eyes at him and snorted: “I don’t know either, but I gave up the first and second spots to avoid my husband thinking I’m not modest.”
Song Shi’an: “……”
Well aren’t you “modest” indeed!
He could now see clearly—this fellow’s face was thick as a city wall.
Jiang Chun showed off a bit more, then right in front of Song Shi’an, pulled out a brick in front of the kang, and hid the piece of broken silver inside the money jar in the kang’s cavity.
Seeing this, Song Shi’an casually asked: “You’re hiding money right in front of me, aren’t you afraid I’ll one day run off with your savings?”
At these words, Jiang Chun curled her lips.
If the monk runs, the temple stays. [跑了和尚跑不了庙 – idiom: even if a person runs, you can still track them down through their home/base.]
If he dared to run off with her savings, then she dared to go to the capital and find her husband, and make him pay it all back—principal and interest included.
But the chances of that happening were basically zero. After all, in the original story, even when the original Jiang Chun treated him that badly, he never ran off with her money.
Now that she treated him so well, he even more so wouldn’t repay kindness with ingratitude.
Of course, what she said out loud wasn’t that: “If you dare do that, I’ll catch you, break your legs, and let you lie crippled on the kang—you’ll never be able to go anywhere again.”
Song Shi’an pressed his lips together—this reply really wasn’t out of expectation at all.
Jiang Chun put away the money, used a cloth belt to tie up her sleeves, came out into the courtyard, sat on a small stool in front of the well, and started energetically washing Song Shi’an’s clothes.
Song Shi’an lifted the cotton-paper curtain on the window used for ventilation, and from the palm-sized vent opening looked out, his gaze landing on Jiang Chun’s back.
She was scrubbing clothes with large movements, her upper body swaying steadily back and forth.
The sky was bright blue and washed clean, with only one or two cotton-like white clouds floating. The warm autumn sunlight fell upon her coiled black hair, gilding her strands with a layer of golden light.
She, so quiet like this, not making a sound, focused on doing the washing work, seemed to have a bit more softness than usual.
Especially since what she was scrubbing in her hands were still the clothes he had sweated through yesterday—outer robes, inner garments, even underpants…
Song Shi’an’s face couldn’t help but redden slightly. His fingers seemed as if burned by heat, and he hurriedly let the cotton-paper curtain drop back down.
He placed a hand on his chest, his breath slightly rushed.
Once he recovered from illness, he’d have to clearly tell her—in the future, his own underpants, he would wash them himself. No need for her to help.
—
Half a month later, Jiang Chun held up a pair of underpants with two big holes torn in the rear, and shoved them right in front of Song Shi’an’s face, who was currently copying books.
She huffed angrily: “You insisted on washing your own underpants—look! These are the underpants you washed! Wearing these is no different than going bottomless!”
Song Shi’an glanced sideways at those underpants—and immediately looked like he was struck by lightning.
It took him quite a while before, face red, he stammered out an explanation: “I-I just beat them with a laundry stick for a bit, then rubbed them on a stone washboard for a while…”
That’s how she usually washed clothes, so he was just following her method.
Jiang Chun rolled her eyes nearly into the sky, and snapped in frustration: “My dear Young Lord! These underpants are made of fine cotton! Just soak them in soap pod water and scrub gently by hand—that’s enough! You used a laundry stick and a stone washboard on them—no wonder they’re torn!”
Song Shi’an thought back carefully. It seemed she only used the laundry stick and washboard when washing coarse cloth garments…
Since it was clearly his mistake, he straightforwardly admitted fault: “Sorry, I messed up. Next time when I wash them, I’ll only scrub by hand.”
“You still want there to be a next time?” Jiang Chun swung the underpants in her hand and snorted coldly:
“Do you know how much a pair of fine cotton underpants costs? Our family doesn’t have that kind of spare silver for you to waste! I’ll wash the underpants for you. If you have that much free time, it’d be better spent copying a few more pages of books—at least we’d earn a few copper coins.”
Song Shi’an immediately refused: “I wouldn’t dare trouble you. I’ll just wash them myself—definitely won’t tear them again.”
Jiang Chun’s gaze moved over his face, then suddenly threw out: “Not even letting me wash your underpants—Husband, are you intentionally trying to draw a clear line between us?”
Something’s not right.
In the original story, after being sold into the Jiang family as a zhuixu, [赘婿 – zhuìxù: a man who marries into and lives with his wife’s family, often looked down upon in historical context] he had firmly decided to live his days properly with the original Jiang Chun. He even proactively brought up consummating the marriage.
But toward her—a wife who treated him far better than the original—he wanted to keep distance and avoid entanglement.
That clearly didn’t make sense.
Song Shi’an’s brow twitched—this Jiang Chun’s mind was really too sharp. She actually saw through his thoughts at once.
He definitely couldn’t admit it. Otherwise, if she flew into a rage out of humiliation and used the “tyrant forces himself on the maiden” method, [霸王硬上弓: an idiom that literally means “the tyrant forces the bow on,” used to describe someone forcefully taking what they want, often with sexual implications] with the current state of his body, he wouldn’t be able to resist at all.
Song Shi’an’s mind spun rapidly, desperately searching for a reason that could fool her.
But Jiang Chun didn’t give him time, pressing forward aggressively: “Husband, you’re not saying anything—did I hit the nail on the head, and now you’re feeling guilty?”
Song Shi’an: “……”
Panic rising inside, he blurted out nonsense: “I’m not! I didn’t! I just didn’t want to see you working so hard, wanted to share a bit of the labor I’m capable of handling, that’s all.”
Jiang Chun didn’t believe a single word of that crap. Not only was she unmoved, she even climbed the pole he’d handed her: “If washing underpants is something Husband is capable of, then from now on, Husband can wash mine too.”
Either let her wash his underpants, or he washes hers. Pick one.
She wanted to see which option he’d choose!
Song Shi’an: “……”
He knew Jiang Chun had thick skin, but didn’t expect her skin to be this thick—to actually raise such an absurd request as having him wash her underpants!
She was clearly forcing him to make a choice between two options: Either let her wash his xieku, or wash hers himself…
Could he choose to just close his eyes, take a nap, and go back to his past life instead?
Although he was no longer young back then, at least he didn’t have to help a woman wash her underpants!
But Jiang Chun just had to keep urging him: “Husband, hurry and pick—because this determines whether I’ll pull new cloth to make you a new pair of underpants, or if you’ll just wear this one with both butt cheeks sticking out.”
Song Shi’an: “……”
So she was threatening him, huh?
If he dared not choose, she really would make him wear that torn pair of underpants with two big holes in the back.
He closed his eyes, then resolutely said: “I’ll wash yours.”
If he let her wash his, in the future she would surely use that favor to ask something in return. And if he refused, she would definitely blabber about it. Where would he put his dignity then?
Better to suffer a little hardship himself.
“Huh?” Jiang Chun was stunned when she heard his answer.
Wait—he actually chose to wash her underpants?
The dignified Head of the Inner Cabinet washing her underpants?
Don’t let her die of happiness!
Afraid he would go back on his word, Jiang Chun immediately said: “Alright, it’s a deal. From now on, my xieku will be in your care, Husband~”