After Jiang Chun finished the sneak attack, she immediately let go of Song Shi’an and took a few steps back.
Song Shi’an’s face flushed red. Just as he was about to open his mouth to reprimand, Jiang He walked into the main hall rubbing his hands, and he could only drop it.
Jiang Chun walked to the west room and brought out a string of properly threaded copper coins. She said to Jiang He: “Dad, wipe your hands and quickly send this corvée money to Village Official Zou, tell him to cross out your name. If you’re late, you won’t be able to grab a spot.”
The government’s conscription of corvée labor was to repair city walls, dams, ditches, and public granaries and other constructions. It needed a large amount of manpower, so the spots for paying corvée money in place of serving were also limited, with each village allotted at most five or six.
They had to grab a spot quickly while others were still hesitating between sending a person or paying money.
Jiang He wiped his hands with a cloth and said indifferently: “Chun-niang, you’re just one to worry too much. That corvée money is a whole one tael of silver. In our village, there aren’t many people willing to pay it.”
Jiang Chun stuffed the money to him and huffed: “Not many willing to pay? My grandmother wouldn’t be willing to let my uncle serve corvée, she’ll definitely pay for him; Sixth Great-Grandpa also wouldn’t let my Uncle go; as for Village Official Zou, that goes without saying, of course he won’t go.”
“There’s also Widow Li who sells tofu. She dotes on that precious son of hers, Li Dazhu, the most—she’ll definitely also pay the corvée money for him. That’s already four spots gone. If one or two more jump out suddenly, Dad, you’ll be out of luck.”
“Then I’d better hurry to find Village Official Zou!” Once Jiang He heard his daughter say this, he immediately became anxious like fire, lifted the hem of his short jacket to pouch the string of coins, and rushed out in a hurry.
When he wasn’t thinking about paying the corvée money, it was still alright. But now that he’d finally decided to pay it, if the spot was snatched by someone else, wouldn’t he just regret to death?
Jiang Chun finally let out a breath of relief in her heart. For this cheap dad who truly loved his daughter, she still hoped he could always be safe and sound.
She returned to the west room, finished the final touches on the padded jacket, snipped off the thread ends, and then called out to Song Shi’an who was sitting outside basking in the sun: “Husband, come in for a moment.”
Song Shi’an was a bit worried that she’d stir up some weird tricks again once he entered the room. He hesitated for a moment, then still got up from the small stool and walked slowly into the west room.
Jiang Chun shook the padded jacket and said to him: “Take off your outer robe and lined jacket. Try on this new padded jacket to see if it fits. If it doesn’t, I’ll alter it.”
Although it was made according to his measurements and she had the original host’s memory of needlework in her head, theory and practice were two different things.
Song Shi’an slanted a glance at the padded jacket in her hands, reached out to undo the buttons on his outer robe, took it off and placed it on the kang, then started taking off the lined jacket.
After taking off the lined jacket, he was only wearing a close-fitting inner garment.
Jiang Chun frowned, looking at his skinny and bony appearance, and truly felt some heartache.
Although she had been feeding him with care, more than half a month had passed, and the amount of flesh he had gained was very limited—just slightly better than before.
But there was no help for it. Who let him be vegetarian? Otherwise, she could stew chicken soup, bone broth, or even old duck soup to nourish his body—how could he not gain weight?
She sighed in her heart, walked over, draped the new padded jacket over him, then went around to stand in front of him, and personally fastened the buttons one by one.
Song Shi’an opened his mouth, wanting to refuse, but swallowed the words back.
He lowered his head and looked at her. Seeing her gaze focused, expression gentle, it was as if the person standing before her was the most treasured one at the tip of her heart.
If one were to say she was completely acting, even he found that a bit hard to believe. After all, he had lived two lifetimes—could he not even see through this much?
His heart couldn’t help but tremble a little.
Such a stray ghost with no known origins, and even possessing a divine power of conjuring things out of thin air, could she actually develop true feelings for someone like him?
It was really a bit unwise.
But the matters between men and women in this world—how many can always remain wise?
After all, even someone as astonishingly talented and brilliant as his own master, Jiang Yan, could not see through it—let alone others?
Song Shi’an pondered seriously for a moment.
He felt that the two of them were already married, and when she wiped his body, she had already seen all of him. The two of them had even… even kissed…
Now saying they would only be husband and wife in name would be somewhat far-fetched.
The key point was, this woman kept thinking about his body all the time, constantly taking advantage of him whenever she found a chance—how could she tolerate just being husband and wife on the surface?
And as for himself, his willpower wasn’t as firm as he imagined either…
If she could always treat him this well and never betray him, he wouldn’t mind being true husband and wife with her.
But would she?
Song Shi’an let out a light sigh in his heart, and suddenly felt a trace of confusion about the future.
Jiang Chun, on the other hand, circled around Song Shi’an, sizing him up from front to back. She said smugly: “Aiya, as expected of me. First time making a padded jacket and it fits so well.”
Though Song Shi’an was confused, he was still very good at grasping key points. He raised an eyebrow and said: “First time making a padded jacket?”
He remembered clearly—earlier, when Jiang He handed him the old lined jacket to wear, he had specially explained: “This lined jacket was made for me by Chun-niang just last year. Still quite new.”
Tch—this little one, the matter of the person inside being switched has been exposed again?
Jiang Chun’s heart gave a jolt, but she kept her expression unchanged and smiled: “First time making a padded jacket for husband—what, did I say something wrong?”
Song Shi’an let out a light scoff.
The reaction was quick, and the sophistry left nothing to pick on.
Unfortunately, now was still not the time to expose her true identity. Otherwise, he really wanted to see if she could still remain as calm as she was now.
Jiang Chun glared at him: “I worried and toiled to make you a new padded jacket—what kind of attitude is that?”
Song Shi’an pressed his lips together and hurriedly thanked her: “Many thanks for your trouble.”
But Jiang Chun wasn’t so easy to dismiss. She looked into his eyes and pressed further: “Who am I?”
Song Shi’an hesitated between “Chun-niang” and “Niangzi1Niangzi (娘子): traditional term for wife.”, and finally closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and said: “Niangzi.”
If he chose “Chun-niang,” with her personality, she would definitely not let it go. It was better to just say the answer she wanted to hear, and save himself the hassle.
Jiang Chun’s apricot eyes suddenly widened in shock.
She stood on tiptoe and used the back of her hand to touch Song Shi’an’s forehead, muttering: “There’s no fever—so why are you saying nonsense?”
Song Shi’an: “……”
The first time he called her “niangzi,” and she actually suspected he was talking nonsense?
If he’d known this would be her reaction, he really should’ve just ignored her question and gone straight to the kang to copy texts.
He gave her a sidelong glance and reached to undo the buttons of the padded jacket on his body.
In the next instant, Jiang Chun suddenly pounced over, both hands wrapping around his waist. While rubbing her cheek against his chest, she said excitedly: “Husband, you actually called me niangzi. I’m so happy.”
Song Shi’an slightly hooked the corner of his lips.
Her reaction now could be considered normal—it matched her personality.
After letting her hug him for a while, Song Shi’an finally reached out and pushed her shoulder, saying blandly, “Let go.”
Not only did Jiang Chun not let go, she hugged even tighter, raised her head to look at him, and pleaded with a face full of anticipation: “Husband, call me niangzi one more time, I haven’t heard enough yet~”
Song Shi’an pretended not to hear, and pushed her shoulder again: “Let go.”
Jiang Chun acted shamelessly: “Not letting go, not letting go. If you don’t call me niangzi one more time, I’ll just keep hugging you and never let go! Even if Dad comes back, I still won’t let go!”
Song Shi’an glared at her, coldly saying, “Know when to stop.”
Jiang Chun pressed her cheek against his chest, closed her eyes and hummed, “What does ‘know when to stop’ mean? I don’t understand, don’t understand~”
The corner of Song Shi’an’s mouth twitched. Usually she understood everything, but the moment she started acting shameless, she instantly turned into an illiterate?
He sighed and reluctantly opened his mouth: “Niangzi.”
Before Jiang Chun could react, he said irritably, “Is that enough? Hurry up and let go.”
“Ao ao ao~” Jiang Chun shook her head like a rattle-drum, her cheeks rubbing back and forth across his chest, excitedly howling ao ao ao.
She looked like a mad dog.
Song Shi’an was nearly driven to laughter out of anger, speechless: “So now my new padded jacket has become your face-wiping cloth, huh?”
Jiang Chun made a scene in his arms for quite a while before she finally calmed down.
She let go of his waist, reached out to help him undo the buttons of the padded jacket, tilted her head and glanced at him with a smiling squint, giggling: “Husband, the way you say niangzi is really pleasant to hear—just like the sound of nature. You must say it more often in the future, I love hearing it.”
Song Shi’an avoided her gaze, lowered his eyes, and didn’t say a word.
He knew he was playing with fire, but with someone as clingy as her, he really couldn’t resist.
Then just bet once more.
If he lost the bet…
Then so be it. At worst, it would be like his previous life—growing old alone.
—
The next day, after lunch—
Jiang Chun went in and out between the kitchen and the west room several times, measuring the length of the stove and the metal pipe.
After taking the measurements, she climbed onto the kang, sat at the other end of the kang table, and asked Song Shi’an to help draw a heating stove.
When she was little, back when her great-grandfather and great-grandmother were still alive, the whole Jiang Chun family including her grandparents would return to their countryside home for the New Year.
Their old home relied on a coal-burning stove for heating. The stove was lit in the kitchen on the other side of the wall, and the iron pipe connected to it would make a turn inside the bedroom and finally stick out from a round hole in the corner of the wall.
This way, it could provide heating while also avoiding carbon monoxide poisoning.
This kind of heating method was obviously more suitable for the frail-bodied Song Shi’an than using a charcoal basin.
The prerequisite was finding a blacksmith to recreate the heating stove and iron pipe.
And whether or not the blacksmith could successfully recreate it would entirely depend on how precisely the blueprint was drawn.
Jiang Chun dragged over a piece of paper, picked up the charcoal stick she had previously used to record clothing measurements, and started drawing the stove’s shape based on her memory.
Song Shi’an lowered his head and looked. The more he looked, the tighter his brows furrowed.
As a professional painter who had followed his master in learning painting for over ten years, seeing her scribble like this—he simply could not bear it.
But he had to endure.
If he shot his mouth off and criticized her, she’d get angry out of shame, and who knew what kind of scene she might make.
Jiang Chun, however, was getting more and more into the groove as she drew.
Actually, when she was in elementary school, she had attended several years of extracurricular painting classes, and had even won third place in the city-wide elementary school calligraphy and painting competition.
It was just that later, after being admitted into a top junior high school, academic pressure piled up, and with tutoring classes after school, she didn’t have the time to pursue hobbies like painting.
She first drew the outer shape of the stove, then used perspective drawing methods to sketch out the internal structure of the furnace.
Afraid that Song Shi’an and the blacksmith wouldn’t understand, she also found a spot to the side and separately drew detailed sketches of the grate bars, stove door, and stove lid.
After finishing the stove, she moved on to drawing the metal pipe. This part was simple—she just needed to pay more attention to detail in the bent sections.
“All done!” She set down the charcoal stick, stretched lazily, pushed the paper in front of Song Shi’an, and proudly said, “I’ve finished drawing. Husband, take a look.”
Because her drawing was really hard on the eyes, Song Shi’an had only glanced at it earlier before closing his eyes to rest, in case he couldn’t control his mouth.
Upon hearing her, he opened his eyes and looked at the paper in front of him.
At first, he was still a little disdainful, but as he looked further, he began to see some method to it.
Then he became a bit shocked—so it could be drawn like this?
This kind of technique, it was as if the person was standing above the clouds, possessing a pair of divine eyes that could see through all things in the world.
His entire being felt a sense of sudden enlightenment; even the bottleneck that had troubled him for many years seemed to loosen slightly.
Jiang Chun saw his phoenix eyes go from half-lidded indifference to widening bit by bit, and couldn’t help but lift the corners of her lips proudly.
What was this called? Giving an ancient person a small shock with a bit of perspective drawing technique?
Cough, even if she only had an elementary school level of drawing skills, it didn’t matter.
Song Shi’an stared at that rough sketch drawn with thick charcoal for quite a while before finally withdrawing his expression, lifting his eyes to look at Jiang Chun, and said with a complicated expression: “Didn’t you draw this pretty well? Looks like you don’t need my help after all.”
Jiang Chun’s eyes sparkled brightly: “Husband truly thinks I drew well?”
Actually, Jiang Chun herself also felt she drew pretty well—a lot better than she’d imagined. At the very least, it was something the blacksmith could easily understand at a glance.
Song Shi’an nodded honestly: “The drawing style is quite… unique.”
Jiang Chun was so happy she almost grinned all the way to her cheeks.
After being praised, she got a little puffed up and changed her mind, saying: “Then there’s no need to trouble Husband to draw another. You just need to help me mark the measurements.”
Her Jiang Chun character setting was that of an illiterate, so naturally, she couldn’t be marking down numbers using words.
As she spoke, she stood up, directly walked over to the other end of the kang table, and sat down beside Song Shi’an.
Then she tilted her head and gave him a cheeky grin: “Sitting on this end is more convenient for me.”
Song Shi’an pressed his lips together and said nothing. He picked up the brush from the dish serving as an inkstone and asked: “What do you want marked?”
Jiang Chun leaned forward slightly, pointed to the top of the heater, and spoke a number, telling him to mark it down.
Song Shi’an considered a suitable spot, then lifted his brush and began writing on it.
Jiang Chun felt that sitting wasn’t high enough, so she sat on her knees.
Then she felt that kneeling was tiring, so she simply half-lay onto Song Shi’an’s back, resting her head on his shoulder like a pillow.
Now it was comfortable.
Song Shi’an: “……”
From the moment she circled over to his side, he already knew she wouldn’t sit properly. Sure enough, not even half a cup of tea’s time had passed before she started causing mischief again.
He said blandly, “My body is weak and can’t support someone as powerful as a female mountain bandit like you. Be careful or we’ll fall over and make a mess, bedding and clothes all stained with ink.”
Jiang Chun pointed at the stove-bottom area on the paper and reported another number, grinning: “Then Husband should hurry and write, try to finish marking before we fall over.”
Although she said this, she still adjusted her posture and shifted most of her weight off him.
Although falling over together on the kang was quite a thing to look forward to, staining the bedding and clothes with ink definitely wasn’t. Wouldn’t she end up huffing and puffing dismantling and washing everything?
The weight on his body suddenly lightened. Only a bit remained on his shoulder.
Song Shi’an bit his lip. This woman, she still cared about his body after all.
And so the two of them, sticking “intimately” together like this, finished marking all the data.
- ••
The next day, Jiang Chun stuffed this “blueprint” into her pouch, packed a bunch of broken silver into her money pouch, and drove the mule cart rented from Village Head Zou’s household, once again heading to the county seat.
Halfway there, she took stock of the iron tools stored up in the system warehouse. There were: one hatchet, one pair of scissors, one shovel, one garden hoe, one hoe, and one pickaxe.
While there was no one around, she transferred these iron tools into the large bamboo basket in the back of the cart, and covered them with straw.
After entering the city, she first checked in at the entrance of the biggest blacksmith shop in town.
[Ding! Successfully checked in at 【Hongye County Blacksmith Shop】, obtained: 1 hatchet, 1 pickaxe.]
Jiang Chun’s lips curled into a wide smile—sure enough, checking in here was the right move. She actually got the two heaviest iron tools.
Taking advantage of the straw cover, she also transferred these two newly obtained tools into the large basket.
Then she drove the cart to the familiar Gou family blacksmith shop.
She handed the blueprint to Blacksmith Gou, and explained in detail what she wanted, including specific requirements like using fire-resistant clay bricks for the heater furnace.
Blacksmith Gou asked an apprentice to call his father, Old Blacksmith Gou, and the two of them went into the inner room, muttering to each other over the drawing for a long while.
Then Blacksmith Gou came out and said to Jiang Chun: “Madam Jiang, this heater furnace—we can make it, yes, but it needs quite a bit of iron…”
“As long as it can be made, that’s fine.” Jiang Chun let out a breath of relief, then smiled and asked, “How many jin of iron are needed?”
Blacksmith Gou replied weakly: “At the very least… a hundred jin.”
“What? A hundred jin?” Jiang Chun cried out in surprise.
She had expected that the heater furnace and iron pipes would require a fair amount of iron, but she hadn’t expected it to be that much.
In Great Zhou, iron tools were priced at three liang of silver per dan.
The total weight of the iron tools she got through check-ins only added up to about twenty jin at most, which meant she still had to buy roughly eighty jin more.
This was just the cost of the iron, it didn’t include labor fees.
Custom-made ironware, and a heating stove at that—something large in size with a complicated internal structure—the labor cost likely wouldn’t be any cheaper than the price of the iron.
All together, the total would come to at least six liang of silver.
Six liang of silver… that would take killing pigs for a full two months just to earn back.
And having a heating stove and iron pipes still wasn’t enough—she also needed to buy coal.
Burning for an entire winter, even a thousand jin of coal might not be enough. To be safe, it was best to buy two thousand jin.
That too was no small expense.
Jiang Chun secretly sighed—raising a man, especially a man like Song Shi’an, really was quite a costly affair.