Song Shi’an originally thought that the “pressing soybeans for oil” matter was just an excuse that the Jiang father and daughter made up offhand to brush off Old Lady Li.
Who knew, after a few days, Jiang Chun actually truly was going to the county town oil mill to press oil.
And even wanted to bring him along, saying it was to have the physician from Baohe Hall check his pulse, to see if the medicine prescription needed changing.
Song Shi’an slanted a suspicious glance at her.
To show unsolicited concern means either adultery or theft.
This fellow is pressing soybean oil for him to eat, and also bringing him to see the physician — taking care of him in so many ways — clearly has another agenda.
Could it be that she’s taken a fancy to the position of future Cabinet Head’s wife, and that’s why she’s being so attentive?
This is simply delusional dreaming!
He could let anyone bask in his glory, but absolutely could not let this licentious woman benefit from him.
Not even a tiny bit possible.
Jiang Chun saw Song Shi’an standing in a daze beside the carriage, and reached out to pinch his slender, thin waist. With a forceful tug, she directly lifted him onto the mule cart.
Because the movement was too fast, by the time Song Shi’an came back to his senses, he was already sitting steadily in the mule cart.
He was instantly both ashamed and angry, his fair face flushed bright red.
Outrageous! This was simply—simply a disgrace and a humiliation of the highest order!
He was actually lifted onto a mule cart by a woman. If the ministers at court found out, who knows how they would ridicule him!
Moreover, this woman was Jiang Chun — the very one he couldn’t wait to eliminate!
But she moved too fast and didn’t give him any chance to object.
And Jiang Chun, this chief culprit, not only didn’t reflect on her actions, she even teased him with a grin: “Husband, why is your face so red? Are you shy?”
Song Shi’an was speechless from anger, turned his back toward her, and couldn’t be bothered to look at this filthy thing.
Jiang Chun waved the whip and drove the mule cart toward the official road leading to the county town, while “kindly” comforting Song Shi’an: “Just hugging the waist a bit, Husband doesn’t need to be shy. We are husband and wife after all.”
Song Shi’an coldly snorted in his heart: Soon we won’t be!
Jiang Chun saw he didn’t speak, and fearing this upright gentleman would lose face, didn’t continue teasing him.
She instead turned her attention to pondering her sign-in system.
In the past, whenever she earned a sign-in point, she would immediately clock in at a shop in town, but the shops in town were few in kind, so she could only go to the money house or the pharmacy.
As for Hongye County, because it lay on the essential path of the Beijing-Hangzhou Grand Canal, the grain transport was flourishing, and it was much more bustling than Hongye Town.
Especially the Donghuan Street near the dock — the shops lined up closely like fish scales.
Because of this, Jiang Chun hadn’t clocked in for three days and saved up six sign-in points.
She rubbed her hands, only hoping she could pick up some valuable goods today — don’t let it be a wasted trip.
If Jiang Chun were going to the county town alone, it would only take one hour. But in the cart bed behind her was still the delicate and frail Song Shi’an.
She didn’t dare to whip the mule too hard, fearing he’d be jolted into some mishap, and she’d end up having to spend even more silver.
So it took a full one and a half hours to arrive.
At the city gate, after paying the per-person head tax of two wen per person, Jiang Chun drove the mule cart straight to the oil mill.
There was no oil mill in town; to press oil, one had to come to the county town, which was very inconvenient.
Moreover, because the oil pressing technique was not advanced enough, the oil yield rate was extremely low — about ten jin of soybeans could only press out one jin of soybean oil.
So many soybeans, whether boiled directly into bean rice or exchanged for tofu to eat, would all be better than pressing for oil.
Not only that, pressing oil also required paying a processing fee to the oil mill — three wen for each jin of soybean oil.
It was clearly very uneconomical, so the households in town and surrounding villages, very few were willing to press soybean oil to eat.
In a certain sense, when Li-Shi scolded Song Shi’an for being nothing but a money-waster, she actually wasn’t wrong.
Hand-pressing oil was a very complicated process, obviously impossible to be completed today. They could only first hand over the soybeans to the oil mill, and come back another day to retrieve the pressed soybean oil.
Jiang Chun rolled up her sleeves, put on a stern face, and said to Boss Zhang the Fatty at the oil mill: “These soybeans of mine were grown in upper-grade fields — each one is full and round. Uncle Zhang, you better not ‘accidentally’ take the wrong ones and use those shabby goods from mid- or low-grade fields to fool me. Or else watch me smash up your oil mill!”
Fatty Zhang clasped his hands repeatedly and said: “Aiyo, my Gu–nainai Jiang, even if I were to take someone else’s by mistake, I wouldn’t dare mess with yours — you just set your mind at ease.” [“姑奶奶” (gu nainai): literally “auntie-grandmother,” a slangy form of address used to flatter or humorously show deference to a fierce woman.]
Before Jiang Chun could respond, he spat with a “pei” and self-corrected: “No, what I mean is, this Zhang family oil mill is a century-old establishment — we’ve always been strict and precise, every customer’s goods are clearly marked with cloth strips, there’s absolutely no chance of mixing them up.”
The Pork Beauty of Hongye Town — who didn’t know her?
And who would dare provoke her?
She was like a sea-patroling yaksha reincarnated!
Last year, some rash fool ran up to flirt with her, not knowing fear.
She didn’t even need her father Jiang the Butcher or her uncle Zheng the Butcher to act — she herself beat the guy until he was crying for his father and mother.
If it hadn’t been for that fool’s parents coming to her crying and begging, she had planned to break all three of that guy’s legs.
From then on, let alone the men of Hongye Town — even the men of Hongye County, none dared to provoke her.
Only then did Jiang Chun slightly ease her expression and said: “Alright, I’ll come get the soybean oil in a few days.”
Fatty Zhang smiled from ear to ear and said: “At the latest, it’ll be ready by noon the day after tomorrow.”
Jiang Chun didn’t say which day she’d come to fetch it, just nodded: “Alright, I got it.”
Then she walked to the mule cart, gave a strong push with both feet, and lightly jumped onto the cart’s shaft, swung the whip, and headed in the direction of Baohe Hall.
Fatty Zhang lifted his sleeve to wipe the sweat off his forehead and let out a long breath.
Then he felt his own cowardly appearance was kind of funny.
Wasn’t she just a pig-slaughtering girl with a bit more strength? What was there to be afraid of?
Even if she was fierce, as long as he didn’t provoke her, she couldn’t just randomly beat him up, right?
Of course Jiang Chun wouldn’t randomly beat people up without a reason — but if someone provoked her, that was another matter.
She had just parked the mule cart in front of Baohe Hall’s door when an old man with graying hair and beard suddenly rushed over with vigorous steps.
Mouth let out an “aiyo” of surprise, then his eyes rolled back and he collapsed sideways beside the mule cart.
Jiang Chun: “……”
She was directly angered into laughing.
Did she just encounter the ancient version of peng ci? [碰瓷 (peng ci): literally “bumping porcelain,” a term for scam tactics where someone fakes injury to extort compensation.]
She turned her head and spread her hands at Song Shi’an: “We’re done for, we ran into a scoundrel — the money for your consultation and medicine might not be saved.”
Song Shi’an slanted a glance at the old man lying on the ground, rolling his eyes and putting on a fake wailing act, his brows wrinkling slightly.
He normally wished she’d be tangled up by such ruffians — but that was only usually.
He knew clearly in his heart the condition of his own body — he indeed needed to find a proper doctor to get a good look.
Coming to the county town wasn’t easy, and he had nearly been jolted into vomiting blood. If the money in her hand was extorted away by a ruffian, then today he wouldn’t be able to see a doctor.
And next time they came again — who knew when that would be.
So, he slowly spit out the words: “Report to the officials.”
The old man lying on the ground trembled all over, and his shoulders involuntarily shrank.
Jiang Chun, on the other hand, widened her eyes in surprise.
This was the first time in three days since she transmigrated that she had heard Song Shi’an speak.
His voice was elegant and magnetic, as if someone had poked her eardrum with a cotton swab — a bit numb, a bit ticklish.
Even her toes couldn’t help but stiffen for a moment.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself.
Then she jumped down from the cart shaft, turned around and pulled out a pig-killing knife the length of a ruler from the basket, walked a few steps forward, and squatted beside the old man.
While tapping his leg with the back of the knife, she said with a smile: “Your leg’s broken? Doesn’t look like it to me. Want me to help break it, so it’ll be more convenient for your extortion?
“Say, you — this old in years, how come you’ve only aged in body but not in brain? You want to scam people who’re in a rush to see a doctor and grab medicine, not having time to argue with you, but you should at least find out first — who you can afford to mess with and who you can’t.”
“Want to extort silver from me, the Pork Meat Xi Shi? I’m afraid someone like that hasn’t even been born yet.”
“What’s this, you’re still lying here? Want me to send you off to be reborn?”
As she said this, she raised her hand and lifted the pig-killing knife high, aiming it right at the old man’s head.
It was as if in the very next moment, the knife would come slashing down and chop off his head.
The old man gave a “carp flip” jump and ran off with his legs, faster than even a young lad — no one knew how many times more agile.
Jiang Chun idly flipped the pig-killing knife in her hand and thought, Looks like the original host’s ‘Mother Night Demon who stops crying children at night’ reputation is pretty useful. [“止小儿夜哭的母夜叉” — literally “the she-demon who can stop babies crying at night.” A fierce reputation; ‘母夜叉’ (mǔ yèchā) is a derogatory term for a violent, fearsome woman.]
She stood up and shrugged at Song Shi’an: “Report what officials? The word ‘official’ has two mouths — if you don’t give silver to grease the palms, will the yamen runners listen to you?” [“官字两张口” — a saying: the Chinese character for “official” (官) contains two “mouth” (口) radicals, implying that officials are all talk and need to be fed (bribed).]
Song Shi’an pressed his lips together, turned his head away, and didn’t say a word.
He naturally knew this.
But in his view, spending a little money to avoid a big trouble — that was worth it.
He just didn’t expect that evil people have their own evil to subdue them.
She, just by relying on her own reputation, without expending any effort, scared the man off.
This was something he had not anticipated.
Then, in the next instant, his waist tightened, and his whole person was lifted off the ground.
Afterwards, both feet landed on the ground.
Perhaps fearing he might not be steady when he suddenly touched down, Jiang Chun even reached out to support his arm.
Being hugged around the waist and carried again, Song Shi’an could no longer endure it and said: “No need for you to meddle — I can get down myself.”
Jiang Chun giggled and said: “Aiyo yo, Husband is shy again?”
Song Shi’an: “……”
He flung his sleeve robe and went straight toward the medical clinic.
Jiang Chun didn’t rush to follow. She first led the mule cart to the horse post nearby and tied it securely, then walked to the yellow (! ) in front of the medical clinic to clock in and sign in. [“黄色！底下打卡签到” — likely a game system marker. The exclamation is stylized in the original; “打卡签到” means to check in or punch a card, often used in system- or mission-based transmigration plots.]
[Ding! Successfully signed in at [Hongye County Medical Clinic], received 5 liang of dangshen, 3 liang of goji berries.]
Jiang Chun was delighted in her heart.
Indeed, the county-level sign-in spots were better than the town’s — it actually yielded two items.
Dangshen and goji berries were both good things for replenishing the body, just right to help nourish Song Shi’an’s health.
If she remembered correctly, dangshen worked best when stewed with chicken — but Song Shi’an, this little guy, was vegetarian, so stewing chicken was out of the question.
As for how to prepare this medicinal herb, she still had to think further.
As for the goji berries, that was much simpler — cooking porridge, stewing with dishes, or brewing into tea all worked.
She put away the sign-in system, then walked toward the medical clinic.
Her left foot had just stepped inside when she heard the voice of Doctor Cao, the sitting physician of Baohe Hall: “You’ve injured your foundation. If you don’t properly nurse your health, you might be left with lasting ailments. If you want to fully recover, the prescription must include a dose of premium-grade ginseng.”
Jiang Chun: “???”
Want ginseng? And it has to be premium-grade ginseng?
This man — besides costing money, is still costing money — this wasteful live-in son-in-law, can I return him?