The Overachieving Little Husband of the Top Scholar’s Household - Chapter 46: The Troublesome Neighbor

Qiu Huaian could see the sincerity in Jiujiu’s eyes. After hesitating for a moment, he decided to trust her and appropriately give her the space to handle her friendships on her own.

The past few days had been busy in the cotton fields. Qiu Huaian hired three workers, who, besides continuing to remove excess branches from the cotton plants to control their growth, also had to periodically spray biological enzymes, kill cotton bollworms near the vinegar dregs pile, and irrigate the fields.

Qiu Huaian himself was not idle either. Although he didn’t need to work in the fields, he had to record the growth of the cotton plants every day, design control experiments to explore the best cultivation methods, and his study was already filled with thick stacks of bamboo paper manuscripts.

This was a novel experience for Qiu Huaian. Without the all-encompassing convenience of the internet, everything had to be explored step by step on his own. His greatest reliance in these matters was the systematic thinking ability he had developed in the modern era.

Qiu Huaian designed various tables to collect data and summarize patterns, using line graphs, bar charts, and other intuitive visual representations to clearly display the cotton plants’ growth. Du Yunse found this very interesting and actively learned a lot from him.

“If these methods could be widely implemented in all prefectures and counties, the efficiency of the government offices could be increased several times over, and the court’s inspections of local finances would also become much more convenient.”

While Qiu Huaian was focused on cotton cultivation, Du Yunse was thinking on a much grander scale.

“Unless someone strongly pushes for it, it would be difficult to achieve.”

Since coming to ancient times, Qiu Huaian had become increasingly aware of the importance of modern advanced information dissemination technology. If productivity was the foundation of civilization, then information dissemination was the prerequisite for building civilization upon that foundation.

For example, they were currently in Zhang County. Sending a letter to Wu Shensong in the same Liao Prefecture would take three to four days. Sending a letter to the capital would take half a month. Sending a letter to the south was even more difficult—there weren’t even proper channels for it. The government courier stations were somewhat faster, but not enough to make a significant difference.

Throughout history, very few reform efforts had achieved long-term success. The difficulty in effectively transmitting policies to every corner of the country was likely one of the reasons. No matter how well something was planned on paper, if it couldn’t be implemented fully and accurately, it would ultimately be useless.

To enact reforms, one needed an exceptional leader with foresight, a group of like-minded colleagues, and a firm, resolute, and enlightened ruler. All of these things were still far out of reach for them.

But being far away did not mean it was impossible or that they should give up. Qiu Huaian always remembered the aspirations Du Yunse had shared with him by the small river behind the village when he first returned.

“Self-cultivation, family order—governing the nation, bringing peace to the world.”

Du Yunse had grand ambitions, and Qiu Huaian also wanted to do something for the people of this world. They would take it one step at a time toward this distant goal.

…

In the following days, Jiujiu was taken to the Song residence every three days to learn the qin. Madam Song found an old qin that her daughter had used in her childhood and gifted it to Jiujiu. This qin was crafted by a renowned artisan from the south. It was slightly shorter than usual, with a faint green hue. The left side of the soundboard was inlaid with mother-of-pearl markers indicating the thirteen positions, and the tail of the qin was engraved with the name “Dianyou.”

Jiujiu cherished this qin dearly. After bringing it home, she practiced for half an hour every morning and evening. Qiu Huaian looked at her qin scores and found that every character on them resembled Chinese characters, yet none of them actually were. Some had numbers with a “木” (wood) radical below them, some looked like “芍,” others like “茫,” and some had numbers written below the characters—all different from one another.

This was the unique notation system of the guqin. The strange square characters indicated where both hands should press on the strings, while also subtly implying which playing techniques—such as yin, rou, tui, gou, chuo, zou, or fei—should be used. (Note 1)

After Jiujiu explained, Qiu Huaian understood how to read the qin scores, but he had little interest in musical instruments and lacked the time to learn, so after satisfying his curiosity, he kept his distance from them.

Though he had no interest in learning an instrument, he still found joy in listening to music. Jiujiu learned quickly and, within just a few days, could already produce harmonious melodies. Every day, the clear and ethereal sound of the guqin drifted through the courtyard, dissipating the irritation brought by the sweltering summer heat.

After the blooming phase, the cotton plants began to bear bolls. The unripe green cotton bolls hung heavily from the branches, promising a good harvest. Because they had been well cared for in the earlier stages, each plant bore at least three bolls.

Due to the cold climate of Liao Prefecture, cotton plants grew more slowly. These first bolls were known as “early summer bolls”—cotton bolls that, under normal circumstances, should have formed before midsummer. Early summer bolls were just the beginning, accounting for only about ten percent of the total, but their appearance indicated that the cotton plants were developing normally and that a good harvest was within reach.

“Early summer bolls hang first, midsummer bolls fill the waist, autumn bolls cover the top.” Only if all three waves of cotton bolls grew and matured successfully would the cotton plants achieve the ideal growth scenario.

With the emergence of bolls, cotton bollworms became even more rampant. Previously, biological enzyme sprays were applied every five days; now, the interval had been shortened to every three days. The vinegar dregs at the edge of the field also had to be replaced every three days, and the worms had to be manually killed every night.

These steps were not particularly costly, but they were extremely labor-intensive and required great attention to detail. Compared to growing rice and wheat, cultivating cotton was far more exhausting. Although cotton brought higher profits, the hardships of the farmers multiplied. Without hiring additional laborers, a typical household could only manage one or two acres of cotton fields at most.

During the flowering phase, Qiu Huaian had intentionally refrained from fertilizing the cotton plants. At that stage, fertilization would only encourage the growth of more branches, reducing the number of flowers. However, once the cotton plants started forming bolls, most of the nutrients were absorbed by the bolls. At this time, appropriate fertilization could result in larger and more numerous bolls.

Midsummer bolls would account for over seventy percent of the total cotton yield, so they could not afford any mistakes.

After discussing with Du Yunse, Qiu Huaian bought a batch of lime and mixed it with farmyard manure. They spent several days fertilizing all three acres of land.

As midsummer passed, autumn gradually approached, and the first batch of pears on the large pear tree in the backyard had ripened.

Early in the morning, Qiu Huaian collected the fallen and rotting pears to feed the mule. The intact ones filled more than half a basket, which he distributed among friendly villagers to share the first taste of the season’s harvest.

He sent Jiujiu to deliver pears to the clan leader’s house and Wei Liuhua’s family, while Chunsheng delivered some to Hu Qiuyan’s house and a few others. Qiu Huaian himself visited the neighboring households.

When Qiu Huanian approached Widow Zhuang’s house, he faintly heard several voices coming from her courtyard.

Widow Zhuang had been widowed for many years, and her only daughter was married far away. She usually lived alone. Half of the land on which Qiu Huanian’ family house now stood had been purchased from her, so their front doors were very close to each other.

Qiu Huanian knocked on the door, and a little girl with flowered ribbons tied in her hair peered out through a crack in the worn wooden door. She scrutinized Qiu Huanian from head to toe, then turned back toward the house and called out, “Grandmother, someone’s here!”

Left standing outside, Qiu Huanian shifted the basket of pears in his hand to the other. He wouldn’t fuss over such a trivial matter with a child and patiently waited for Widow Zhuang to come out.

After a short while, Widow Zhuang hurried to the door, clapping the dirt off her hands. Upon seeing Qiu Huanian, she quickly smiled and said, “Hua ge’er, what brings you here? Come in, come in. I was digging up scallions behind the house and didn’t know you had arrived.”

“The pear tree at home bore fruit, so I brought you and Auntie some to try.”

In the village, it was common for families with good relations to exchange homegrown produce. Widow Zhuang had also given Qiu Huanian some of the small rapeseed greens she had grown before.

Widow Zhuang gently nudged the little girl standing by the door and invited Qiu Huanian inside. “Hua ge’er, come in and have a drink of water before you go.”

The little girl frowned, brushed the dust off her pink cloth skirt, let out a huff, and ran off.

Widow Zhuang smiled awkwardly and said, “Hua ge’er, don’t take offense. Yuchuan has been spoiled. I’ll have her mother talk to her properly later.”

“Is she Auntie’s granddaughter?”

“Yes. My son-in-law came to Zhang County on business and brought his family along to visit. But this place is too shabby for them. Yuchuan has never experienced hardship since she was little, so she doesn’t really want to stay.”

Widow Zhuang rubbed the dirt on her hands nervously. Her hands were knotted with large joints, filled with dark crevices, and layered with thick calluses that had hardened into murky yellow protrusions, like twisted, deformed creatures.

Compared to her delicate-skinned granddaughter, it was as if they belonged to two different worlds.

“She’s still a child. If she stays a few more days, she might get used to it,” Qiu Huanian consoled Widow Zhuang. “I won’t go in. Auntie has more family around now, so take these pears for everyone to enjoy. Just return the basket whenever it’s convenient.”

Widow Zhuang carried the half-basket of fresh, plump pears back into the courtyard. Her daughter, Zirong, was just coming out of the main house while combing her hair.

“Who was it?”

“Hua ge’er from Uncle Baoyan’s family. He brought us some pears,” Widow Zhuang explained with a smile.

Zirong asked, “The one living in that big house next door?”

“Yes, you’ve been away for so many years, so you wouldn’t know. Hua ge’er is quite capable now.”

Zirong lowered her eyes and glanced at the basket in Widow Zhuang’s hands. “What does his capability have to do with me? So rich, yet all he brought was this measly stuff?”

Widow Zhuang’s smile stiffened. She opened her mouth, trying to persuade her, “This is just a neighborly gesture. We haven’t done him any great favors. Even if Hua ge’er brought something expensive, I wouldn’t have the face to accept it.”

“That’s why I say you have no foresight.” Zirong snorted. “Forget anything else—half of the land his new house sits on used to be ours. From what I’ve seen around, if he ever wants to expand, the only suitable option is to buy our garden. You should have asked for more money. What good is just one and a half taels of silver?”

Widow Zhuang mumbled hesitantly, “That was already a very fair price. Even an acre of paddy field only sells for three taels of silver. A broken-down little garden—Hua ge’er offering one and a half taels was more than I expected.”

Zirong rolled her eyes. “Think about it. If he weren’t in a hurry, why would he offer one and a half taels? Judging by that house of his, he must have at least twenty or thirty taels of silver on hand. If you had held firm and refused to sell, you could have squeezed out another three or four taels.”

Widow Zhuang quickly interrupted her, “Zirong, stop talking like that! If the villagers hear, they’ll gossip about us behind our backs!”

Zirong pursed her lips, tossed the comb in her hand onto the brick bed inside the house, and picked a pear from the basket. After rinsing it with water, she took a few bites before throwing it into the chicken coop by the wall.

“I thought it was some rare delicacy. Not even worth the trip.”

…

Around ten in the morning, a carriage from the Song residence arrived to drop off Chi Qinghe. At the entrance, Qiao Yin jumped down first, set up the footstool, and helped Chi Qinghe alight. The driver then skillfully guided the carriage around to park in the rear garden.

Du Yunse usually set aside an hour and a half in the afternoon to teach the children to read, so in the morning, Chi Qinghe first went to the western wing to play the qin and embroider with Jiujiu, chatting idly as they passed the time. Meanwhile, Qiao Yin delivered the ingredients they had brought to the kitchen and helped Qiu Huanian prepare the meal.

After spending much time with Chi Qinghe, Qiu Huanian realized that she was indeed a highly intelligent and talented young lady. She was proficient in the qin, chess, calligraphy, and painting and was well-versed in many customs and traditions from the south. Through her, Jiujiu learned many new and fascinating things she had never encountered before, and gradually, they grew close. Chi Qinghe, grateful for Jiujiu’s life-saving kindness, came to appreciate Jiujiu’s mature and considerate nature even more, treating her like a younger sister and looking after her.

Whether it was playing chess, the qin, riddles, or a game of grass-fighting, Chi Qinghe taught Jiujiu anything she wanted to learn. However, when it came to composing poetry and writing lyrics, no matter how much Jiujiu asked, Chi Qinghe would insist that she knew nothing about it and refused to say a word.

Yet, during their reading and writing sessions, Chi Qinghe’s skills clearly indicated she was well-versed in poetry and prose.

Jiujiu had long known that Chi Qinghe carried many secrets. At first, she refrained from prying since it wasn’t her concern, but now that they had grown closer, she couldn’t help but worry for her.

Unfortunately, since Chi Qinghe wouldn’t speak of it, Jiujiu didn’t dare to dig further. She could only keep her worries to herself and do her best to make Chi Qinghe feel at ease and happy in their daily lives.

After finishing her qin practice, Jiujiu improved a few finger techniques under Chi Qinghe’s guidance. She then carefully placed her instrument into a silk-lined case that Dian You had sewn, gently setting it back on the rack.

“Hua gege picked fresh pears today. Let’s have a few, then head to the study to find some books to read.”

Jiujiu took a few pears, washed them, and placed them on the table in the main room so they could be easily taken later when desired. Chi Qinghe picked up a pear and took a bite. The fresh pear’s sweet and slightly tart juice burst in her mouth, and its crisp texture urged her to take another bite.

“How is it? Tasty? How does it compare to those from the south?”

“The pears here in the north are much larger than those in the south. While their texture isn’t as delicate, they are much crispier, just like the mountains and rivers of the north.” Chi Qinghe sighed, then quickly regained her composure and smiled. “It’s delicious. I must bring some back for my aunt and uncle.”

Jiujiu also smiled. “These pear trees bear half a basketful every few days. When you leave, I’ll pack some for you.”

After finishing their pears and washing their hands, the two went to the study to find books to read. Du Yunse had gone out, and Qiu Huanian was also not in the study. Jiujiu lifted the cloth covering the bookshelf. Some books were placed too high for her to reach, so Chi Qinghe stepped forward to help.

“Hua ge’er said we could read any of the books on the shelf, but we need to be careful. Some are ancient manuscript copies that my elder brother brought from the capital, and if they get damaged, there’s nowhere to get them repaired—”

Jiujiu noticed that Chi Qinghe had frozen in place. Her raised hand remained suspended in the air, unmoving. She hesitantly called out, “Qinghe jiejie?”

Still, Chi Qinghe didn’t respond. Jiujiu tiptoed to see what she was looking at on the top shelf, but she could only make out the outline of a book.

“Qinghe jiejie!”

Chi Qinghe finally snapped out of it. Her gaze flustered, she hurriedly lowered the cloth covering the bookshelf. “What is it?”

“I wanted to ask if we should pick this collection of essays. I don’t recognize many characters yet, so I’ll need you to teach me.”

Chi Qinghe’s eyes landed on the book in Jiujiu’s hands without focus, and she absentmindedly agreed, “Alright, let’s read this one.”

Jiujiu bit her lip but didn’t ask what Chi Qinghe had been thinking about earlier. She decided to wait until Chi Qinghe left before bringing a stool to check the top shelf herself.

In the afternoon, after finishing their reading lesson with Du Yunse, it was time for Chi Qinghe to leave. Taohua Town was still quite a distance from Du Family Village, and it wouldn’t be safe for a young lady to travel too late.

After Chi Qinghe left, Jiujiu found a moment when the study was empty and retrieved the book she had noticed on the top shelf earlier.

“‘Qingchi Idle Writings’… A collection of poetry?” The characters on the book’s cover weren’t particularly obscure, so Jiujiu recognized them all.

Although Qiu Huanian had said they could read any book on the shelf, Jiujiu knew that placing this book on the highest shelf likely meant he preferred they not read it too casually.

Since she hadn’t finished reading the lower shelves, she had never felt a strong curiosity about the books above. Now, seeing that the book up there was actually a collection of poetry, a flicker of surprise flashed in her eyes.

Qinghe jiejie had always seemed to keep her distance from poetry, even when eldest brother taught them about rhyming. She always chose the most mediocre and simple lines. Why, then, did she have such a strong reaction to a collection of poetry?

Jiujiu kept this in mind and returned the book to its place.

Before nightfall, she placed the handkerchief she had been embroidering over the past few days and her sewing kit into a basket, planning to visit Sister Liuhua to continue learning embroidery.

Carrying her basket, Jiujiu stepped out of the courtyard. After walking only a few steps, she was suddenly stopped by an unfamiliar girl, around eleven or twelve years old.

“Hey, little village girl, where are you going?”

Jiujiu glanced in the direction the girl had come from. “Are you from Aunt Zhuang’s family?”

The girl raised her sharp chin, the red ribbon in her hair bouncing with the movement. “My name is Bai Yuchuan. What about you?”

Jiujiu’s brows furrowed slightly, almost imperceptibly. “I am Jiujiu.”

Yuchuan let out a snort through her nose and lifted her chin even higher. “You don’t even have a proper name? That sounds like a servant’s name. Your house looks nice, but who knew you’d still be a country bumpkin?”

Jiujiu’s face instantly turned cold as she stared at Yuchuan and said, “I was born on the day of ‘Jiujiu’ in the counting of the cold days, and my family named me Jiujiu to symbolize ‘the end of winter and the blooming of peach blossoms.’ You, knowing only half of the story, dare to mock someone else’s name?”

“Besides, no matter what someone is called—even if they were named Cat or Dog—if their elders sincerely chose that name for them, then it is a wonderful name, not something for outsiders to criticize. You come up and insult my name without reason—is that what you call ‘not being a country bumpkin’? If that’s the case, I’d rather be a country bumpkin than stoop to your level.”

“You—you—” Yuchuan had not expected Jiujiu to be so sharp-tongued. Not only did she speak quickly, but every word was logical and irrefutable, leaving Yuchuan unable to come up with a single retort.

What was going on? Grandma had clearly said that the Jiujiu from next door was especially timid and afraid of people, too shy to even speak to strangers!

“Do you have anything else to say? I’m listening.” Jiujiu’s eyes were filled with anger, and she stood her ground.

Yuchuan grabbed a stone from the ground and hurled it at Jiujiu’s face. Jiujiu dodged to the side, but the stone still grazed her shoulder, leaving a burning pain.

“What are you so smug about?! My father—my father works for a prince in the capital! If my father says a word, you all will have to kneel before me! Just you wait—just wait and see—”

After throwing out her threat, Yuchuan ran back to Widow Zhuang’s house, slamming the broken wooden door behind her.

…

After dinner, Du Yunse was cleaning up the dishes while Qiu Huanian spoke with him in the main room. Jiujiu walked in, looking troubled.

“Jiujiu, do you need something from your brother?”

Jiujiu bit her lip and asked, “Eldest brother, do you know how many princes there are in the capital?”

Du Yunse exchanged a glance with Qiu Huanian before carefully answering, “Currently, there are only two who hold the title of prince. One is the current emperor’s elder brother, Prince Pingxian, and the other is the newly appointed Third Prince, Prince Jin.”

Although Du Yunse lived in the remote Du Family Village in Zhang County, he kept in contact with Wu Shen and occasionally met with Magistrate Wang and Scholar Song. As a result, he had some knowledge of major happenings in the capital, including the recent ennoblement of the Third Prince.

“Are princes… very powerful?”

“What do you think qualifies as powerful?”

“It’s like what the storytellers at the market say—how they can take a person’s head with just a word… I heard, I heard that our neighboring county once had a consort in the palace. She was originally taken away by some prince, and when she left, the entire family that had arranged her marriage was killed…”

The story of the consort from the neighboring county was widely circulated among the people of Zhang County. After all, for such a large family to be completely wiped out overnight, and for the matter to be connected to the distant and unattainable palace, it made for the perfect topic of gossip over tea.

Under Jiujiu’s expectant gaze, Du Yunse slowly nodded. “Although the nation has its laws… if a prince wants to kill a few commoners, it is indeed very easy.”

Qiu Huanian saw that Jiujiu looked as if she were about to cry. Feeling sorry for her, he pulled her into an embrace and gently ruffled her hair. “What’s wrong with our Jiujiu? Why are you suddenly asking about this out of nowhere?”

“I, I—”

With her head lowered in Qiu Huanian’s arms, Jiujiu recounted what had happened that afternoon. In the end, she asked worriedly, “That Bai Yuchuan is really unpleasant, but… what if what she said was true…? Hua-gege, did I cause trouble?”

Qiu Huanian pondered for a moment, then smiled lightly and said in a relaxed tone, “Jiujiu, just think about it—if Bai Yuchuan’s father were really that powerful, why would Auntie Zhuang still be living in Du Family Village? Why hasn’t she built a new house?”

“Compare Bai Yuchuan to your Qinghe-jiejie. Does she look like a proper young lady from a wealthy and influential family?”

“Bai Yuchuan probably just overheard something about a prince in the capital and, in a fit of rage, used it to scare you. Don’t believe her!”

Seeing that Jiujiu was still looking down in worry, Qiu Huanian shook his head helplessly and, as if conspiring, deliberately lowered his voice with a smile. “Besides, even if her father is powerful, do you think your elder brother isn’t? Hua-gege will tell you a secret—do you remember Sixteenth Uncle, who stayed with us for a while? His background is no less impressive than that of a prince in the capital.”

Sixteenth Uncle’s background was that impressive?

Jiujiu’s eyes widened in shock. She had been so unsettled for so long by Bai Yuchuan’s mention of a vague and distant “prince in the capital,” only for Hua-gege to tell her that she had already spent a long time living with someone of similar status.

“Sixteenth Uncle’s identity is a secret. Hua-gege is only telling Jiujiu, so Jiujiu won’t tell anyone else, right?”

“I understand! I won’t tell anyone!” Jiujiu solemnly nodded. She would never be as loose-lipped as Bai Yuchuan!

At last, Jiujiu left feeling reassured. Watching her figure disappear behind the door of the west wing, Qiu Huanian finally dropped the lighthearted expression from his face. He frowned and asked Du Yunse, “Yunse, do you think this matter… is real or not?”

Author’s Note:

Note 1: The guqin-related reference is from Dream of the Red Chamber, Chapter 86.