The Fearless Husband - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 — The Most Despairing Moment of the King of Arguments

“Hey, did you hear? The third ge’er of the Yu family just had his engagement with the eldest son of the Wang family from the eastern village broken off.”

“What? Again? But hadn’t the betrothal gifts already been exchanged? What happened this time?”

“They’d even picked the wedding date! But it turns out the Wang family’s neighbors had a visiting cousin—a ge’er, they say, who’s exceptionally handsome. The Wang family’s eldest took one look at him and couldn’t take another step. His eyes wouldn’t even turn away! He made a huge fuss, said he’d marry no one else, and if they didn’t let him, he’d hang himself! The Wang family had no choice but to go to the Yu family to cancel the engagement. The two families are still arguing about it. I just passed by the Yu household—I heard it all myself!”

“Then doesn’t that mean the Yu family’s third ge’er will have an even harder time finding a match now?”

“Exactly. What a pity. But if you ask me, it’s no surprise. That Qinglong ge’er is far too big and sturdy-looking. What man would want someone that tall?”

The two sighed in sympathy, secretly grateful that none of their own children resembled Yu Qinglong. Otherwise, they’d be constantly worrying over a rough-handed, clumsy child who’d never find a spouse!

The subject of their gossip, Yu Qinglong—the Yu family’s third ge’er—was indeed feeling troubled. But what worried him wasn’t the broken engagement. On the contrary, he was relieved it had fallen through. That Wang family eldest son looked like a goose that had been beaten flat—long, limp neck, not a shred of vigor or spirit. Who on earth would want to marry someone like that?

No, his problem was far more serious.
He wasn’t “Yu Qinglong.”

To be precise, he wasn’t this Yu Qinglong. He had transmigrated into the body of another person with the same name. If this person had been an ordinary man as he understood it, that would have been one thing—but he wasn’t.

In this world, there were three genders.
Besides the male and female he was familiar with, there existed something called a ge’er: physically male, but delicate in appearance, often not much taller than women—and capable of bearing children.

It was utterly surreal.

What Yu Qinglong couldn’t endure most was that no one here could possibly understand him. He was a freshly graduated modern university student! Sure, even back at school he hadn’t exactly been on the same wavelength as everyone, but at least they’d grown up under the same educational system, shared similar beliefs. Here, he had none of that.

Humans were social creatures—but simply being among other humans didn’t mean one would find resonance.

Yu Qinglong was on the verge of losing his mind. So when he heard, for the umpteenth time, the Wang family demanding the engagement be annulled, he slammed his palm on the table and roared,
“What’s all this racket about? Fine—break it off, break it off, break it off! Who’s desperate for your Wang family anyway? That son of yours, Wang Guifa, looks like a boiled duck neck someone’s wrung out and you still think he’s some kind of treasure? What garbage! Get out of my house! And stop screeching with those duck voices of yours!”

The original Yu Qinglong had always been quiet and timid, so the sudden outburst left everyone in the room stunned. His father, Zhou Yuehua, even dropped the embroidery hoop he’d been holding.

Yu Qinglong said, “Father, Dad, I don’t like that man. If they want to call off the engagement, let them. The sooner the better. Any later and they’ll probably try to stick the blame on us.”

Madam Wang Zhao said, “What kind of talk is that? ‘Stick the blame on you’? Have you even seen the ge’er who came to our neighbor’s house? He’s so handsome, and his voice is as sweet as a silver bell. Who would ever bother to stick to you?”

Yu Qinglong shot back, “Oh, then why are you still standing here? Don’t tell me your family’s too poor to build another house and you’ve decided to camp out at ours? Feels nice and cool here, doesn’t it? Must be real comfortable freeloading off us, huh?”

Madam Wang Zhao clearly hadn’t expected his tongue to be so sharp. Her face flushed red as she planted her hands on her hips and shouted, “You’ve got some nerve, Yu Qinglong! Let’s see who’ll marry you now! A person like you will never get married—just wait to become an old ge’er! Come on, lift those gifts, we’re leaving!”

Yu Qinglong chased them to the door, yelling, “Go on, go! Don’t wait for miracles to drop from the sky—you ungrateful fools wouldn’t be the ones catching them anyway! Think it over, you idiots!”

Bang!

He kicked the door shut with one decisive blow.

When he turned around, his father, dad, and two elder brothers were all staring at him as if he were a stranger.

Well, it wasn’t hard to understand. The original Yu Qinglong had been born a ge’er but had grown unusually tall and strong. When he was under eight, people only said he was developing early. But after eight, when he grew as tall as the average man—and even taller than some—the villagers began to gossip endlessly.

In the countryside, people didn’t have much entertainment. Idle gossip was a kind of pastime, a substitute for joy. That wasn’t unusual. But for a child to grow up surrounded by whispers and mockery—it was bound to carve deep wounds into his confidence. Especially when some in his own family agreed with the gossip, his self-esteem could hardly survive.

That was exactly how the original had grown up. His parents, when young, often went out to work together. His two older brothers, being men, could accompany them. But as a small ge’er, he had to stay home with his grandparents.

His grandmother was a stepwife—an expert at two-faced dealings. In front of the parents, she said nothing. But once they were gone, she’d scold and punish him, saying he was too big, shouldn’t eat too much or he’d grow unwanted. She called him clumsy, ugly, and useless.

She criticized and beat him constantly. Yet he was a well-behaved child. He never tattled to his parents—he only said things to comfort them. So by the time they realized something was wrong, he was already eleven.

His dad wanted to split the family then and there, but at the time they had nothing, and with three children to feed, living apart was impossible.

It took two full years of hard work before they finally separated from the grandparents. But by then, the shadow in the boy’s heart had already taken root.

He spoke little, always walked with his head down when outside.

He didn’t understand the ugliness of human nature—that the more he shrank away, the more people pointed fingers.

They didn’t just mock him, but his parents as well, making him feel guilty and convinced he was a burden. Eventually, that guilt consumed him—until he faded away.

Zhou Yuehua picked up the embroidery hoop again and gently asked, “Qinglong, do you really not want this marriage anymore?”

He wasn’t asking because he thought the Wang family was so great—only because his youngest son had once seemed pleased about the match.

Eldest brother Yu Qingjia said, “That’s right, third brother. If you’re upset, if it really bothers you, big brother and I can go drag that Wang bastard here ourselves.”

Their father, holding a long staff, fixed his gaze on him and said, “Qinglong, tell your father plainly—what are you thinking?”

Yu Qinglong replied, “Exactly what I said before. Dragging the Wang boy back would be less useful than catching a pig. At least a pig would make a good meal. That Wang kid’s useless. I’m not marrying him.”

Second brother Yu Qingye grabbed his hand excitedly and sat down. “Little brother, finally you’ve come to your senses! That’s exactly what I thought! He looks so weak—he’s got nowhere near your strength. He’s a total waste. We don’t want him. We’ll find someone way better!”

That second brother was quick-witted and full of energy—always lively. In fact, it was thanks to him that the family had first realized something was wrong all those years ago. Yu Qinglong rather liked him.

Actually, the whole family was good people. The memories in this body showed a warm household. The tragedy lay in the rigid norms of this world—rules that suffocated people until they couldn’t even breathe freely. It was such a pity for the original Yu Qinglong, a good soul taken too soon.

Maybe he had gone to Yu Qinglong’s own time. He’d dreamed of him, after all.

But if the original had gone to his world—what now?

Yu Qinglong felt as though the sky was collapsing.

In this rural society, most people lived by the land, working from dawn to dusk. The men of the house went out to labor—but that usually didn’t include unmarried ge’ers.

So the original spent his days doing chores indoors or in the courtyard. If not, he carried meals to his father and brothers, or washed clothes by the river.

It was unbearable.

Suppressing his frustration, Yu Qinglong said, “We’ll talk about the future later.”

Whether he married or not didn’t matter for now. He was twenty-one in the modern world, eighteen here—what was the rush?

His preference for men wasn’t even a problem in this world. The real issue was how to improve his living conditions.

The Yu family wasn’t well-off. As the saying went—where there’s a stepmother, there’s a stepfather. His grandmother had always looked down on his father, so when they split, they got almost nothing. If not for his father and brothers taking odd jobs everywhere, and Zhou Yuehua’s embroidery work on the side, they might not have even survived, much less bought the modest house they lived in now.

They could barely fill their stomachs—forget about eating well, dressing nicely, or studying. That was pure fantasy.

And there were still two unmarried sons.

The eldest was already married—his wife, a gentle girl from a nearby village and a distant relative of Zhou Yuehua, had gone home to fetch some things.

The second brother was engaged, but his fiancée was still young; the wedding would wait a few more months.

Even if he himself didn’t want to marry, what if he never made it back home? Eventually, he’d have to. Marriage or not, money was always needed.

And with the eldest brother’s wife pregnant—still six or seven months to go—but another mouth meant the house was even smaller than before.

Yu Qinglong mulled over ways to earn more money, to broaden his horizons in this strange world, or at least make life easier for his family.

He realized—it was incredibly difficult.

He was a law student, aiming to be a lawyer. In this era, the closest equivalent would be a litigator. But as a ge’er, he wasn’t even allowed to study formally, let alone step foot in a courtroom.

It was enough to drive anyone insane.

The family, watching the youngest deflate after his earlier fury, exchanged worried glances. They all assumed he was heartbroken over the broken engagement. After all, a canceled betrothal was no small matter.

Father Yu Dayou said, “Huahua, keep an eye on Qinglong during the day. If he’s tired, let him rest more. I’ll take the boys to the fields. No need to bring us lunch—we’ll come back to eat.”

Zhou Yuehua nodded. “Alright.”

But Yu Qinglong immediately straightened. “No need, I don’t want to stay home. I’ll bring lunch to the fields as usual. I’ll go with you, Dad. If I keep hiding in the house, people will think I’m scared. From now on, I’ll fear nothing. Let them say whatever they want.”

He could easily go alone. A future lawyer afraid of gossip? Please. His tongue was his greatest weapon.

But the real reason was simpler—he didn’t know the way. The original had been terrible with directions, and so was he. In the modern world, he could rely on landmarks and street signs. Here, every rice field looked the same, and the fields were far from home. Who knew which one was theirs? That’s why he needed his dad to come along.

Besides, since he was already here, if there really was no way back, he’d have to adapt fast. He decided to plan for both sides—find a way home if possible, but meanwhile, learn this world and discover how to make money.

As for his legal career—if he ever returned, he’d switch professions without complaint. Ideals and beliefs were meaningless if you couldn’t even survive.

Second brother Yu Qingye grinned. “Then I’ll be waiting for your lunch, little brother!”

Yu Qinglong chuckled. “Alright.”

Yu Dayou left with his two sons, tools in hand. Before going, he turned back and said, “Qinglong, don’t worry. If you don’t want to marry, then so be it. Your father will support you for life.”

Yu Qinglong nodded. “Alright.”

Zhou Yuehua looked at his youngest carefully. There was something different about the boy today.

He was usually quiet. Though talkative enough at home, he had never once lost his temper like that—neither with family nor with outsiders.

Softly, he patted his son’s arm. “Qinglong, tell me—have you really let it go?”

Yu Qinglong replied, “Yes. I actually think it’s a good thing they broke it off. Someone that shallow—who knows when he might betray me later?”

Zhou Yuehua nodded. “That’s true. I was only worried you’d be sad. As long as you’re not, then it’s fine. They’re the blind ones who can’t see your worth. We’ll find someone better for you later. Now go fetch the sewing basket for me.”

Yu Qinglong stood. “Alright, Dad, just a moment.”

The house was small, and everything had its usual place. He quickly spotted the basket and brought it over.

Zhou Yuehua took it with a smile and resumed his embroidery—a handkerchief for the embroidery house, work that helped supplement the family income and had to be completed on time.

Only then did Yu Qinglong notice that the basket was made of peachwood—believed to ward off evil spirits.

Wait—did his dad think he was possessed or something unclean?!

Well, maybe it wasn’t impossible. His behavior had changed drastically. Perhaps he’d better tone it down.

Deciding to keep himself busy, he rummaged through his inherited memories and found something he could do. He went to the woodshed on the west side of the courtyard, gathered a bundle of firewood, and began sorting through it.

Zhou Yuehua sighed quietly.

He knew the boy was pretending—surely still hurting from the broken engagement. After all, that firewood had been a gift from the Wang family’s eldest.

Yu Qinglong picked out pieces about half an arm’s length, even and straight, and tied them into a small bundle. They were thin sticks, roughly the width of a pinky finger—gathered from the mountain, so none were particularly thick.

When it came time to deliver lunch, Yu Qinglong carried the small bundle with him. As he walked beside Zhou Yuehua, he planted one stick at intervals along the way as a trail marker—so he wouldn’t lose his way home next time.

Little did he know, someone was coming from the opposite direction—a scholar holding a book. Seeing the neatly lined sticks, he couldn’t resist pulling them all out.

By the time he got home, he looked at the twenty-nine smooth, even sticks in his hand and smiled.
Perfect!
Twenty-nine—a number signifying “everlasting fortune.” Just enough to craft a lovely brush hanger.

Author’s Note:
Here I come again! 🐰