The Overachieving Little Husband of the Top Scholar’s Household - Chapter 2: A Home Bare of All Possessions

The clan leader had spoken, and the villagers gathered in Qiu Huanian courtyard gradually dispersed.

Today, they had watched quite a spectacle and even caught a glimpse of a side of Hua Ge’er that no one had known before. They couldn’t wait to go home and tell their close friends and relatives all about it.

Qiu Huanian’s father-in-law, Du Baoyan, had once been the most promising among the “Bao” generation of Du Village. He was an exceptionally skilled carpenter, working both quickly and beautifully. Instead of rushing to build a house or buy land after saving up money, he had the foresight to send his eldest son to study.

His eldest son did not disappoint either. At just ten years old, he passed the Tongsheng exam and was later taken under the tutelage of a great scholar in the capital. Given time, he might have even become an official.

Once upon a time, the Du Baoyan family was the envy of many within a ten-village radius.

Unfortunately, Du Baoyan died unexpectedly while performing corvée labor. With the backbone of the family gone and no means of making a livelihood, the family gradually fell into decline.

At first, they had placed their hopes on the eldest son making a name for himself in the capital. However, just last month, news arrived that his teacher had offended a powerful noble and had been thrown into prison. The eldest son could no longer survive in the capital and would be returning to the village soon.

Had he known things would turn out this way, Du Baoyan might have used the money spent on education to buy land and a house instead!

Life in the countryside offered little entertainment. Lately, this family had become a popular topic for idle chatter over meals. People said that it was fortunate that Widow Li had died two months earlier—at least she didn’t have to hear the devastating news of her son’s ruined future. But at the same time, it was a pity that with her gone, there was no one left to support the family.

Madam Zhao had come to make trouble without understanding the full story, betting that no one would dare confront her about it.

Unfortunately for her, she miscalculated. Not only did she suffer a humiliating defeat, but she also had to compensate with eggs and a chicken.

Who would have thought that Hua Ge’er—who had always been obedient and quiet when Widow Li was alive—would turn out to be so fierce, and even fierce with reason!

Qiu Huanian calmly accepted all the different gazes directed at him. After everyone had left, he closed the old but sturdy wooden door and called the two children inside.

The Du family’s house was a thatched cottage with three rooms—one main room and two side rooms.

The right-side room served as a storage room where grain and various sundries were kept. It was the only room with a lock. The central room had originally been where Widow Li lived with her two children, but after her passing, it remained empty for now. The left-side room was Qiu Huanian’s room, and now all three of them lived there.

To save firewood, the heated brick bed was only warmed at night. In the chilly spring weather, the room was both damp and cold. Qiu Huanian frowned slightly as he walked in.

“Brother Hua, I’ll go light the fire in the bed. You and Jiujiu can get some rest,” Chunsheng, though young, was already clever and sensible.

“I’ll go too,” Jiujiu chimed in. “Brother Hua fell down and needs proper rest.”

Qiu Huanian felt warmth in his heart as he looked at the two little ones. He reached out to ruffle their heads. “Be careful not to burn your hands. Once it’s warm, I’ll give you some candy.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help, but firstly, he didn’t know how to heat this type of bed, and secondly, in Du Village, light chores like these were always done by children. Chunsheng and Jiujiu were used to it—stopping them would only make them feel uneasy.

For children who grew up in hardship, the best way to recover from fear wasn’t to rest but to quickly return to their usual routine and find comfort in familiar tasks.

Hand in hand, Jiujiu and Chunsheng left the room. Qiu Huanian didn’t remain idle either—he needed to go through the household’s belongings using the memories of the original owner so he could get a clear idea of their situation.

Having suddenly transmigrated to ancient times, he couldn’t say he didn’t want to go back. But he knew that after falling off that cliff, he was likely dead in his original world, and his chances of returning were slim. He should cherish this opportunity to live again.

He had taken over the original owner’s identity, so naturally, he had to take on his responsibilities as well and fulfill his wish to take good care of the Du family’s children.

If there was even a possibility that the original owner hadn’t died but had instead transmigrated into his modern body, he also hoped that the original owner would take his place in honoring his parents.

Qiu Huanian found the key to the storage room and unlocked the door. There weren’t many things inside—mostly carpentry tools and leftover wood materials left behind by Du Baoyan.

The grain supply consisted of two dou (about 20 liters) of white rice and two dou of wheat flour, which were only eaten during festivals.

There was also half a jar of corn, a full jar of sorghum, a jar of pickled vegetables, and a large sack of dried vegetables—enough to last a family of four for half a year if they rationed carefully.

However, with the eldest son of the Du family returning soon, and considering he likely had a bigger appetite than Widow Li, keeping everyone well-fed would require some additional planning.

In the southeastern corner of the courtyard stood a large pear tree, beneath which was a vegetable patch. Along the edges, chives and green onions had already started sprouting, but no other vegetables had been planted yet.

In the corner of the yard was a chicken coop, with only two old hens remaining. They laid two eggs a day, which were usually saved up—once they had ten, they would take them to the market to sell.

There was no separate kitchen; instead, against the southern wall of the courtyard stood a simple stove with two openings and two large iron pots. Cooking required taking utensils from the storage room.

Qiu Huanian rummaged through the innermost section of the cabinet in his room and found a money box. Widow Li had entrusted it to the original owner before she passed away, treating him as the most trustworthy person in the family.

The wooden money box was well-crafted. Inside were the deed to the thatched cottage, land deeds for six mu of land—two mu of paddy fields and four mu of dry farmland—along with two taels of silver, a pair of silver bracelets, and eighty-six copper coins.

In the area where Du Village was located, three copper coins could buy one egg, eight could buy a jin (500g) of white rice, and pork cost thirty-five coins per jin.

Converted to modern purchasing power, one copper coin was roughly equivalent to fifty cents, and one tael of silver was worth five hundred yuan. This meant the Du family’s entire savings amounted to 1,043 yuan.

If this were someone’s private stash, it wouldn’t seem too bad. But for a family of four, it could only be described in one word—poor. Very poor.

There was no helping it. Ever since Du Baoyan passed away, the Du family had never had a substantial source of income. Any money made from selling surplus crops after setting aside food for the year was immediately spent on necessities like fabric, salt, and cooking oil.

They had spent two taels of silver on Widow Li’s medical treatments and another two taels on her funeral. What remained was only this meager sum.

Had Du Baoyan not prepared coffins for himself and his wife in advance, sparing them from having to buy one now, there wouldn’t even be this much left.

Qiu Huanian sighed. In his past life, he had been a model worker in rural poverty alleviation. Looks like he was back to doing the same job again in this life. That was fine.

He didn’t touch the silver but took out the copper coins and placed them in a cloth pouch embroidered with rough floral patterns, sewn by Jiujiu.

The family was too poor. No matter how great his ideas were, he needed startup capital.

After tidying up, Jiujiu and Chunsheng returned. The heated brick bed was warming up. Qiu Huanian called them to sit on it and shared some candy.

The two children, though saying they didn’t need any, had bright eyes fixed on the candies, making Qiu Huanian’s heart soften.

“You’re still young. Eating too much candy isn’t good for your teeth. From now on, all candy will be kept in the basket on the table. You can each take one piece a day and make sure to keep each other in check, okay?”

Chunsheng and Jiujiu exchanged glances. “But Brother Hua, if we eat one piece a day, the candy will run out soon.”

The person who had delivered the message had been an acquaintance of the Du family’s eldest son. He had stopped by while visiting his hometown and, in a rush, hadn’t prepared any gifts. Instead, he had taken out a small bag of peanut candy for the children.

The bag contained only about twenty pieces, and they had already eaten some. At a rate of one piece per day, they would run out in less than ten days.

“I promise you, once you finish this batch, there will be more candy in the basket,” Qiu Huanian assured them.

Qiu Huanian stuffed a piece of candy into each of the little children’s hands. Caught off guard, Jiujiu placed one in front of him as well. “Brother Hua, you eat too.” Chunsheng nodded in agreement.

Looking at the two children’s thin but bright faces, Qiu Huanian felt his heart soften, an inexplicable emotion welling up inside him.

Back in the modern world, Qiu Huanian had eaten all sorts of delicacies and hadn’t planned on taking even a single piece of candy from the children. However, Jiujiu and Chunsheng were determined—if Qiu Huanian didn’t eat, they wouldn’t either. Left with no choice, he unwrapped the pale yellow peanut candy and put it in his mouth.

The candy was crunchy, and the peanuts inside had been roasted to a fragrant crispiness. The flavor was indeed delicious. For country children, this was an unimaginable treat, something akin to the flavors of heaven. Jiujiu and Chunsheng savored it in tiny bites, reluctant to finish too quickly.

Candy… candy…

Qiu Huanian’ eyes lit up as he recalled a business idea that suited the current situation—a small-scale venture that could quickly generate profit.

In his past life, Qiu Huanian had graduated from a prestigious university and worked a grueling 996 schedule in a major company for several years. Over time, he found himself longing for the days when he had lived in the countryside with his grandparents as a child.

After witnessing one colleague collapse from overwork and another be dismissed due to severe depression, Qiu Huanian made up his mind. He resigned, returned to the countryside, and used his savings to renovate his old family home, beginning a new way of life.

It wasn’t that he feared hard work or wanted to slack off—he simply believed that if he was going to work hard, it should be toward a life he truly wanted.

Once he settled down, he started posting videos online about his rural lifestyle, becoming a content creator in the homesteading niche.

During this time, he honed a vast array of skills for the sake of content and even helped boost local agricultural products, bringing prosperity to many struggling villagers. He was later recognized with an official award as a “Model of Poverty Alleviation.”

Now, having traveled back in time, those skills—once merely used as video material—had become his real means of survival.

Running through his plans again, he grew more confident. Unable to sit still any longer, he sprang into action.

He had always been someone who followed through once he made a decision. Back in his previous life, when trolls had challenged him, he had live-streamed himself harvesting ten acres of wheat over the course of half a month. His fans had dubbed him “The Ultimate Grind King of the Homesteading Niche.”

Qiu Huanian retrieved a large wooden basin, over three feet in diameter, from the storage room. He filled it halfway with water and then scooped out a large handful of plant ash(check in the end) from the stove, mixing it with water in a ladle before pouring only the clear liquid into the basin.

Jiujiu and Chunsheng, curious, ran over. “Brother Hua, what are you doing?”

“I’m making candy for you.” Qiu Huanian smiled.

Candy? Jiujiu swallowed hard but didn’t understand why so much water and plant ash were needed to make it.

Chunsheng frowned worriedly, his round little face filled with concern, fearing that Brother Hua might have hurt his head from the fall.

Qiu Huanian rolled up his sleeves, took out two dou of sorghum from the grain jar, and soaked them in the basin, spreading them evenly with his hands.

“Brother Hua… is this really how you make candy?” Chunsheng hesitated.

“Yes, it is,” Qiu Huanian answered with a mischievous grin, deliberately keeping them in suspense.

Teasing kids was fun—especially adorable, well-behaved ones.

Just as he was about to say more, a knock sounded at the courtyard gate. Wiping his hands, he went to open the door, finding Baoshan’s wife outside, sent by the village chief to deliver their compensation.

“Thank you for the trouble, Auntie. Please come inside and have a seat,” Qiu Huanian said, stepping aside.

Du Baoshan was one of the youngest in the “Bao” generation of Du Village, and his wife was not yet thirty, with delicate brows and bright eyes, her smile warm and engaging.

“My husband and your father-in-law are cousins from the same great-grandfather’s generation. Our families are close—no need to be so formal. My maiden name is Hu. Just call me Aunt Hu,” she said kindly.

Qiu Huanian searched his inherited memories and found that their families were indeed relatively close, though not particularly intimate.

This was mainly because the Widow Li had kept to herself for years, rarely socializing with anyone.

“What’s your full name, Auntie?” he asked with a smile.

“Me? I’m called Hu Qiuyan.”

“Then I’ll call you Aunt Qiuyan from now on.”

Hu Qiuyan paused for a moment, feeling an inexplicable mix of emotions—an odd sensation that, somehow, carried a trace of happiness.

She stepped into the courtyard, setting down the basket she carried. “Here are nine eggs, along with a slaughtered chicken, its innards, and feathers. Baoquan’s wife is stingy—she picked an old rooster that could barely walk. I figured it’d be inconvenient for you to handle, so I had my husband kill and pluck it before bringing it over.”

As she spoke, her gaze drifted toward the large wooden basin soaking sorghum under the eaves, and she let out a puzzled sound. “Hua, why are you soaking so much sorghum? If it’s for porridge, you should only soak a little at a time—too much will spoil.”

Qiu Huanian had been waiting for this question.

Smiling, he set the items aside on the outdoor stove and repeated what he had told the children earlier.

“Aunt Qiuyan, I’m making candy for Jiujiu and Chunsheng.”

Plant Ash – Plant ash, also known as wood ash (草木灰 in Chinese), is the powdery residue left after burning plant materials like wood, straw, or dried leaves. It contains various minerals, including potassium carbonate (potash), calcium, and trace amounts of phosphorus, making it alkaline.

In traditional food processing, plant ash was often used to soften water, aid in fermentation, or remove impurities. In candy-making, it could help break down starches into fermentable sugars, a step in producing maltose syrup (麦芽糖). This was a common practice in ancient China when making sugar from grains like sorghum, wheat, or rice.