My Husband is a Drama King [Book Transmigration] 4

Chapter 4: Going to Town

The well outside the village was too far. By the time Song Changxu filled the buckets and hoisted the carrying pole, his forehead was already soaked with sweat.

The sun wasn’t as strong as it had been at noon, but it was still hot enough to be irritating. There weren’t many people in the village; the children were playing and cooling off under the large trees in their courtyards. Song Changxu managed to fetch the water without being seen.

He carried the water to the Xu residence and poured it into their water vat. He straightened up and rubbed his shoulders to ease the soreness.

Xu Zhizhou brought him a tea bowl. “This is the herbal tea my elder brother made. Have some and catch your breath.”

Seeing that Song Changxu was about to run out of breath, Xu Zhizhou looked at him with a hint of worry. If he was this exhausted after just one trip, and the water vat wasn’t even full yet, he couldn’t let him get too tired.

Song Changxu pulled over a stool, sat down, took the tea bowl from Xu Zhizhou, and drank it all in one go.

“…Your family’s water vat is really big,” Song Changxu said, realizing he would have to make three or four more trips.

“I know, right? I think it’s too big too, but there’s nothing to be done. Our family has always used a large water vat. When you come back, I’ll have another cup of herbal tea ready for you.” Xu Zhizhou initially commiserated with Song Changxu about the large vat, but his tone quickly shifted to one of gentle prodding.

Song Changxu: “…”

Was he really doing this for a bowl of herbal tea?

He felt indignant, but he looked at the carrying pole on the ground and resignedly picked it up.

He swore to himself that he would never listen to Xu Zhizhou’s nonsense again. Acting like this made him seem cheap.

Song Changxu made three or four more trips, becoming much more familiar with the village roads. After the last trip, he felt dizzy.

He was afraid he was getting heatstroke.

If he got heatstroke, it would all be Xu Zhizhou’s fault.

“Have a drink. Look at you, in this state after just a few trips,” Xu Zhizhou said, only knowing how to pour him herbal tea. Now, he secretly glanced at his face, a hint of concern in his eyes.

Seeing his expression, Song Changxu felt a little better. So he does have a conscience after all, knowing to worry about my health.

“Have you always been in poor health?” Xu Zhizhou hesitated for a moment before asking tentatively.

Song Changxu realized what he meant and was nearly angered to death. To think he had just thought Xu Zhizhou had a conscience. He shot up from his seat, gritting his teeth. “What do you mean by that?”

Seeing this, Xu Zhizhou felt a pang of guilt, but on the surface, he poured Song Changxu another bowl of herbal tea. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Sit down. I was just worried about your health.” And by extension, worried about my own future. There was nothing wrong with that thought.

“I’m not drinking any more. I’m going back.” Song Changxu was afraid that if he stayed at the Xu residence any longer, he might be angered to death by Xu Zhizhou, or be roped into doing more chores.

Xu Zhizhou was a little disappointed; there was still firewood at home that needed to be chopped. Asking someone in the village to chop it would mean owing a favor or paying them. Having Song Changxu do it cost nothing but a bowl of herbal tea.

Having a fiancé doesn’t seem so bad after all, Xu Zhizhou seriously considered.

“Alright then. Go back without being seen. And don’t forget to bring me the mung bean cakes tomorrow. I’ve been thinking about them for a long time,” Xu Zhizhou reminded him.

Song Changxu didn’t stop walking, leaving Xu Zhizhou with only his back. He waved his hand to show he had heard.

Without being seen. Song Changxu felt like he was a disgrace.

When he reached the gate of the Xu family’s courtyard, he still peeked through the crack in the gate to see if anyone was outside. Only when he was sure there was no one did he sneak out of the Xu residence. Once he was on the village path, he breathed a sigh of relief.

It’s just like being a thief.

“Changxu, what are you doing out here?” Liang Feng was surprised to see Song Changxu. With the sun so strong, Song Changxu was usually at home reading. Why was he out, and so far from home?

“My head was spinning from reading, so I came out for a walk to see if it would help,” Song Changxu’s mind worked quickly.

Hearing this, Liang Feng’s suspicion was dispelled. He sighed, “Auntie sending you to study is clearly not an easy task. It’s so mentally taxing.”

Liang Feng had come back to carry manure. He didn’t chat much longer with Song Changxu. “I have to get back to work. You study hard.”

Song Changxu acknowledged him and, upon returning home, finally relaxed. He drew some water, wiped himself down with a cloth, and changed into an old long robe from his wardrobe.

He had been drenched in sweat and had felt sticky on his way back. Now, after changing, he felt much better. He washed the long robe with soapberries, wrung it out, and hung it up to dry.

He had lived in a university dormitory, so washing clothes was a small matter. He liked to be clean and felt that washing machines didn’t get clothes clean enough, especially since several people shared one. He usually washed his clothes by hand.

That ordeal was finally over. Sitting back in his chair, Song Changxu let out a breath and continued to read.

He would read for a while, then pick up a brush to practice his calligraphy. Time passed like flowing water.

By the time Song Changxu came to his senses, it was already evening. The sky was filled with the evening glow, a vast expanse of red.

He went to the wardrobe to look for the money the original owner had left behind and his eyes lit up when he saw a blue purse. He opened it and counted only fifty copper coins inside.

His parents had given him so much money, yet the original owner hadn’t saved any of it. He couldn’t rely on the original owner’s savings; he would have to find some way to earn money himself.

Movable type printing was well-developed in the Ningxing Dynasty, which had essentially eliminated the path of earning money by copying books. The cost of movable type printing was lower, and bookstores preferred to source their books directly from printing workshops rather than hiring people to copy them.

However, printing workshops only printed popular books; things like storybooks were rarely printed. The Ningxing Dynasty stipulated that certain books were to be published by the state, and private publication of books involving astronomy, divination, and occult arts was prohibited. There were strict controls on various collections of writings published by officials, especially those involving politics. Additionally, the spread of heretical cults was forbidden.

As for storybooks, the court turned a blind eye and let them pass.

Tomorrow, when he went to Shuibo Town, he would visit a bookstore to see. He could also write letters for people. He could use his skills to find work and earn some money for daily expenses.

Song Changxu was too embarrassed to ask Song Ye and Liang Su for spending money.

“Adie, you’re back!” Xu Cheng’s voice came from the doorway.

Song Mingyan was carrying a basket on his back, filled with fresh grass. He said, “Cheng Ge’er, feed the chickens and ducks with the grass first. I’ll go cook.”

He had cut the grass for the chickens on his way back from the fields.

Song Changxu came out of his room. A young woman came over with a handful of bracken. “Oh, Changxu is here. I picked this bracken myself from the back mountain. It’s delicious in a cold salad after being blanched.”

As Wang Yan spoke, she stuffed the bracken into Song Changxu’s hands. “Take it and make a cold dish for your family.”

It was rare for Wang Yan to catch Song Changxu, so she couldn’t help but chat for a bit.

“It’s good that you’re engaged to the Xu family. I thought you wouldn’t get married for a few more years. I didn’t expect it to happen so quickly.”

The children in the village had all grown up together. Wang Yan was married to Li Hu from the village, and the two of them lived a happy life.

Song Changxu replied, “I’m already twenty-one.”

In ancient times, this age was neither too old nor too young; it was the right time to start a family. Wang Yan didn’t chat much longer with Song Changxu. She said, “I haven’t seen you in a long time. We should get together more often in the future. Or, after you get married, Hu-zi and I will treat you both to a meal.”

Xu Cheng looked at Song Changxu. He reached out and patted his nephew’s head.

He handed the bracken to Song Mingyan.

“That Wang Yan, really,” Song Mingyan said happily. “I was just thinking of going to the back mountain to pick some when I had time. I mentioned it to her in passing, and she brought some over right away.”

Xu Cheng threw the grass into the chicken coop and stood on his tiptoes to get a closer look.

The chickens and ducks in the coop squawked wildly, lowering their heads to peck at the grass.

The faint sound of voices came from outside the courtyard gate, a lively scene, filling the village with the warmth of human life.

Plumes of smoke drifted straight up into the air as every household returned home to start cooking dinner.

Children ran about outside. Xu Cheng emptied the grass into the chicken coop.

Song Ye and Liang Su returned, put down their hoes, and sat down to rest. A breeze blew by, drying the mud on the soles of their feet.

Dinner was simple. They finished the leftovers from lunch, with an added dish of cold bracken salad. Throughout the year, whenever there were wild vegetables, every household in Qishan Village would have them on the table.

Song Changxu drank a bowl of loofah soup. Song Mingyan’s cooking was light, and the soup was exceptionally delicious, fresh and natural.

He looked up at the sky. The stars were dense, a sign of a rare fine day tomorrow. The sky was high and clear, dotted with stars.

He had felt hot right after dinner, but now, standing outside in the main hall, a breeze made it much cooler.

“Changxu, take a few of these steamed white flour buns to the village head’s house,” Liang Su called Song Changxu in to take the plate.

The Song family had gone through a difficult period, and the village head had helped them a lot. They remembered his kindness.

Song Changxu took the large bowl and went to the village head’s house.

“Why bring these? You must be tired, Changxu. Have some tea first,” Liu-shi poured him some tea.

“Auntie, I’m fine.” He wasn’t tired from walking a few steps; only from carrying water.

The village head was smoking his pipe. He said a few words and sent Song Changxu on his way.

Song Changxu walked along the country path. The houses along the road were lit by candlelight. As he walked with his head down, he heard a familiar voice.

“There are no snakes here at all,” Xu Zhizhou said.

“I saw one yesterday,” another unfamiliar voice replied.

“Alright, alright, it’s getting late. I’m heading back,” Xu Zhizhou said as he emerged from the tall grass.

The moonlight was bright, casting a thin, cool layer on everything. Xu Zhizhou was startled to see a tall figure standing there.

Upon closer inspection, it was Song Changxu. He chided, “What are you doing standing there without making a sound? You’re quite scary.”

Scary? Good.

Song Changxu said, “I didn’t notice.”

In the shadows, Xu Zhizhou could see the smooth line of Song Changxu’s jaw. He said, “What are you doing wandering around at night? Remember to bring me mung bean cakes tomorrow morning.”

Song Changxu was speechless at Xu Zhizhou’s audacity in turning the tables on him. He had come out to deliver something. If anyone was wandering around at night, it was clearly Xu Zhizhou.

.

When Xu Zhizhou returned to his room, he washed up but couldn’t fall asleep. He opened the small window and saw that the light in Xu Zhici’s room was still on. He hugged his pillow and went to knock on Xu Zhici’s door.

Xu Zhici was looking at the hairpin Xie Huai’an had given him, his eyes glistening. Hearing the knock, he quickly put the hairpin away, threw on a coat, and went to open the door.

“Elder Brother, I want to sleep with you tonight.”

The Xu family only had two ge’ers. Their house was a blue-tiled one. The two young brothers had shared a room when they were little, but as they grew older, they got their own rooms.

When they built the blue-tiled house, it was the Song family who had helped them find the workers. When hiring labor, it was best to have an acquaintance make the introduction; otherwise, there was always the risk of shoddy work and inflated prices.

Xu Zhici knew that only Xu Zhizhou would come over at this hour. He led him in to lie down. “Could I ever turn you away? Lie down and cover yourself with the quilt so you don’t catch a cold.”

“I knew Elder Brother was the best. You’re still awake so late. Are you thinking about Brother Xie?” This was his elder brother’s only worry, always on his mind.

“I’m afraid he’ll be hurt by the swords and blades on the battlefield,” Xu Zhici said, his brow furrowed with worry.

Xie Huai’an didn’t have to join the army. It was his uncles who had signed him up for the recruitment money. Xie Huai’an’s parents were both gone, and he was the only heir. Those uncles, in their vicious desire to seize the family property, had tried to send him to his death.

When Xie Huai’an left, only Xu Zhici was there to see him off. The sixteen-year-old boy was already taciturn, as silent as a mountain.

His back was straight as he carried his bundle, only saying that he would come back and that Xu Zhici should wait for him.

“Brother Xie is young and strong. After so many years in the army, he must have become very capable,” Xu Zhizhou said.

“As long as he is safe,” Xu Zhici said, unwilling to say more.

The candle in the room was blown out.

“Elder Brother, can you teach me how to make herbal tea?” Xu Zhizhou fiddled with the corner of the quilt.

Xu Zhici replied, “Of course I can. I’ve asked you to learn with me before, but you wouldn’t. What made you change your mind today?”

“I think herbal tea tastes quite good.”

“Alright. I’ll teach you after we’re done with the busy work of the next few days. Speaking of which, the water vat was full today. You used to only fill it halfway to be lazy.”

Xu Zhizhou’s heart skipped a beat. “Elder Brother, it’s rare for me to be diligent, and you still have to ask? It’s quite embarrassing. Let’s go to sleep. We have to work tomorrow morning.”

The room fell completely silent.

***

The next day, Song Changxu said he was going to town.

Liang Su gave him some copper coins. “Since you’re going to town, buy a jar of salt on your way back.”

Song Ye said, “And get me a jug of yellow wine.”

Liang Su glanced at Song Ye and gave her son more coins. She then thought of something and said, “Also buy some pastries and fruits. Cheng Ge’er can have some, and we’ll need them to entertain guests.”

Song Changxu took the coins and asked a crucial question, “Is Mother in charge of the family’s money?”

Liang Su replied, “Should I let your father manage it? He spends money like water.”

Song Ye gave a sheepish smile.

“You’re also a big spender. After you get married, you’ll need someone to manage you,” Liang Su said as she went back to her room to hide the money.

To get to town from the village, one had to take an ox-cart. The Song family’s old ox had been sold, and they hadn’t bought a new one yet, saving all their money for their son’s marriage.

A ride on the ox-cart to town cost three copper coins. After the cart was full, it would slowly make its way to Shuibo Town.

Besides the money his mother gave him, Song Changxu also brought fifty copper coins to buy mung bean cakes for Xu Zhizhou.

When Xu Zhizhou mentioned the mung bean cakes from East Street yesterday, Song Changxu had estimated they wouldn’t be cheap. It was better to bring more money when going out, just to be safe.

When they arrived at Shuibo Town, Song Changxu got off the cart. As far as the eye could see, it was bustling with activity.

Vendors were hawking their goods. The town was filled with blue-tiled houses and various shops. As soon as he entered the town, he smelled the aroma of noodles.

He had eaten two white flour buns for breakfast, so he wasn’t hungry yet. He first went to the bookstore to ask the owner about copying books.

“You’ve come at a good time. There’s a storybook that needs to be copied. Write a few characters for me to see,” the owner said.

Song Changxu did as he was told and wrote a few large characters. They were neat and elegant—good handwriting.

“Good. In that case, I’ll pay you six hundred copper coins to copy one book.”

Song Changxu agreed, gave his address and name, signed a contract, and the owner gave him the storybook and sent him on his way.

He asked about the people who wrote letters for others. They charged ten copper coins per letter.

Song Changxu was dumbfounded.

He went to the town and bought the pastries and fruits Liang Su had mentioned, and also got a jug of yellow wine, spending a total of one qian.

Then he went to East Street to buy mung bean cakes for Xu Zhizhou.

He didn’t wander around the town but got back on the ox-cart and returned to Qishan Village. The tightness of his funds made Song Changxu even more determined to earn money. He couldn’t just sit and deplete his resources.

Calming his mind, Song Changxu decided to focus on his studies and find some odd jobs to earn money.

.

Xu Zhizhou worked in the fields today and was nearly exhausted by the time he got home at noon. His parents had gone for a nap. When Xu Zhizhou heard a knock on the door, he immediately got up to open it. He didn’t see anyone, only the fragrant smell of pastries on the ground.

It was the mung bean cakes he liked.

He looked left and right but saw no one. He picked up the pastries and closed the courtyard gate.

Song Changxu, hiding nearby, saw the oil-paper package being taken. He scraped the mud off his shoes and headed back.

Author’s Note:

Little Song: Why is the market for book copying so depressed? [Crying loudly]

Little Xu: Eating pastries [Laughing out loud]

Translator’s Notes

1. Qian (钱): A unit of currency. 1 qian of silver was typically equivalent to 100 copper coins, though this could vary. It’s also referred to as a “mace.”