The Overachieving Little Husband of the Top Scholar’s Household - Chapter 86: Childhood Sweethearts

Chapter 86: Childhood Sweethearts

When Zhu Xia finished speaking, her strength seemed to drain from her body, and she fell silent.

In the pitch-black cell, time ceased to exist—no light, no sound, no indication of day or night. Only an oppressive stillness.

After an indeterminate span, the door creaked open slightly.

“Are the new girls all inside? We just shipped out a batch—why are there more so soon?”

“These two came as a pair. Shu Erniu sold them out to pay off his gambling debts. Low-born, but not bad-looking.”

“That so? Let me see.”

Ru Tang and Zhu Xia stared at the widening gap in terror, the sliver of light slicing through the gloom.

A pair of embroidered pink satin shoes appeared first.

A hand grabbed their faces, scrubbing them roughly.

“Sister Guer, have a look. Both are real beauties.”

In the flickering candlelight, the girls saw a young woman, not yet twenty, with a face both plain and delicate, yet twisted by bitterness—like a ghost bent on revenge.

“Not bad,” Li Guer said. “Mark them as Grade A for now. Whether they make it to the final destination will depend on fate.”

“Understood, Sister Guer.”

Li Guer nodded absently, fingers brushing her own face.

Her looks were still a curse. Any day now, some prettier girl might steal her sworn brother away. She needed to stay ahead.

“Pick out two well-mannered girls, fifteen or sixteen, Grade B stock. Send them to my room later. I have plans.”

The door slammed shut, darkness swallowing the light. Their footsteps faded.

Despair hollowed out Zhu Xia’s gaze as she sat motionless, like a lifeless shell.

Ru Tang inhaled deeply. Since those people had entered, she’d noticed something.

She nudged Zhu Xia gently.

“I think we’re in a building. Did you hear the water? We’re not far from a river or a large cistern.”

“So what?” Zhu Xia asked dully.

“If we can figure out our location—if we’re still in Xiangping Prefecture—we might have a chance to escape.”

“Are you dreaming?” Zhu Xia’s voice was laced with resignation, though the faintest trace of hope sparked in her eyes.

Ru Tang ran her fingers along the chains on her ankles—unbreakable, yet loose enough to allow movement within the room.

She began tapping the walls and floor with measured precision.

Zhu Xia watched. “What are you even trying to do?”

Ru Tang replied, “Have you ever read the books from Qimin Bookstore? Like Elementary Mathematics: Equations?”

“Huh?” Zhu Xia was baffled.

—

After spreading word about Shu Huacai’s gambling-addicted brother, Qiu Huanian could only wait.

That evening, Xiangping Prefecture lay under a quiet sky, lanterns aglow across the city. But beneath the moonlight, tension simmered.

At dawn, Qiu Huanian personally escorted Chun Sheng and Jiu Jiu to school by carriage.

As he was about to leave the Zhu residence after seeing Jiu Jiu inside, a servant arrived with a message—Su Xinbai wished to speak with him.

“Did they crack the trafficking case?”

“They raided a hideout. The ringleader escaped. Many victims are still missing.”

“But Zhu Xia and Ru Tang were rescued along with several others.”

Su Xinbai handed him a report.

Qiu Huanian read quickly: Shu Erniu had given the prefect a lead, and raids had been carried out overnight. The criminals, somehow tipped off, had been ready to flee—if not for the chaos caused by Ru Tang and Zhu Xia, the operation might have failed.

Qiu Huanian exhaled in relief. The mastermind was still at large, but the girls were safe, and others had been saved too.

“Where are Zhu Xia and the others now?”

“They’re from respectable families. Once they gave their statements, they were sent home.”

He nodded, understanding. The Shu family needed time with their daughter. No need to intrude.

Su Xinbai urged him to stay a while.

Summer heat had arrived early this year, and Su Xinbai seemed unusually sensitive to it. His courtyard was already filled with cooling contraptions.

He wore a pale gauze robe embroidered with cranes at the collar, over which he’d donned an elegant bamboo jacket.

Bamboo jackets, once popular summer attire, were made of lime-treated, polished bamboo segments, strung together into breathable garments. Cool and airy, they were ideal for the season.

Su Xinbai’s jacket was exquisite—each segment uniform, woven into intricate patterns, fastened with blue satin ribbon at the collar.

“Dragon Boat Festival has only just passed,” Qiu Huanian remarked.

“It’s hot already,” Su Xinbai replied, fanning himself with a bamboo jade fan adorned with a Zhu Jingcheng poem.

“Jingcheng’s out again?”

“Yes. The southern caravan is returning with goods. If you want anything, let me know.”

“I’ll buy straight from the caravan. The shops rarely carry quality wares.”

Southern goods were finer, more refined. With summer approaching, Qiu Huanian planned to stock up.

At lunch, Su Xinbai’s appetite was sparse. The heat seemed to weigh on him heavily.

Qiu Huanian, by comparison, felt ravenous. Su Xinbai barely touched the Longjing shrimp—Qiu Huanian finished it. He ignored the richer dishes altogether.

Dian Mo, ever attentive, whispered, “Young master’s been eating less. What if the eldest young master questions us when he returns?”

Su Xinbai shot him a look. “Let him.”

Dian Mo said nothing more. He knew how close Su Xinbai and Zhu Jingcheng were—loyalty shifted accordingly.

Just then, a servant arrived with news. Dian Mo returned with a whisper:

“The second young mistress has summoned that female Taoist priest she favors.”

Though the Zhu family venerated both Buddhist and Taoist figures, it wasn’t a festival or auspicious day.

“She’s taking the priest back to her maiden home,” Dian Mo added. “Perhaps to pray for Miss Zhu Xia.”

Su Xinbai paled inexplicably, irritation flickering across his face.

Dian Mo hurried to placate him. “It has nothing to do with us. Don’t dwell on it. Eldest young master will return soon and settle everything.”

Su Xinbai said nothing. Qiu Huanian, seeing him unwell, took his leave.

—

Back at the Zhu residence, Zhu Xia lay on the kang in her boudoir, no personal maid by her side. An old woman stood watch, with two servants guarding the door.

Her hand was bandaged. Blood still oozed faintly.

The night before, as they heard the faint approach of yamen runners, Ru Tang had calculated the direction of the sound. They smashed a hole in the wooden partition in desperation. Splinters tore Zhu Xia’s hand open.

After giving statements, Ru Tang was swept away in tearful reunion with her family. Zhu Xia was brought home—but her missing maid told her everything she needed to know.

A new nightmare had begun.

She heard a stir outside. Her pulse quickened.

Suppressing a tremor, she asked, “Who’s come?”

“The eldest young lady has returned.”

“My sister?”

“She brought the female Taoist priest.”

“And my mother?”

“The mistress is praying in the small ancestral hall.”

Zhu Xia curled up tighter, heart pounding.

Zhu Lu arrived with full retinue—every servant deferential. Outwardly, her marriage had propelled the Zhu family’s meteoric rise.

Learning her mother was, as always, cloistered in the small ancestral hall, she made her way to her father’s study.

Once alone, she dropped all pretense.

“How did things get so bad that even Xia’er was swept up?”

“The newcomers didn’t know our ties,” her father said bitterly.

“A waste. I’d hoped to marry her into an influential family. Now who would want her after this scandal?”

“What’s done is done. We might have let it pass if she hadn’t escaped.”

Her father sneered, “You’ve brought the Taoist priest. You must have a plan. Don’t bother pretending.”

Zhu Lu nodded. “Fifty taels. The priest will claim Xia’er has a spiritual affinity with the Tao. She’ll be taken in as a lay disciple. Once the rumors fade, we’ll spirit her away to the south. If she disappears from the temple, no one will question it.”

Her father smiled. “You were the right choice to marry into the Zhu family’s second branch.”

Their expressions mirrored each other’s—cold, calculated.

“I don’t trust Xia’er,” he added. “She looks obedient, but she’s defiant inside. Better to send her far away before she uncovers anything and threatens us.”

Zhu Lu was about to respond when chaos erupted outside.

“I said I wanted privacy—what now?”

“Master, young mistress, the Shu family is here.”

Zhu’s father frowned. Once, they’d been neighbors. But now the Shu family had gained standing, thanks to their oyster sauce trade and connections with Lord Qiu Xiang.

“What do they want?”

“Their daughter, Miss Ru Tang, wishes to see Miss Xia.”

“Tell them she’s unconscious,” Zhu Lu ordered.

“But…” the servant hesitated.

“What is it?”

“The mistress happened to be with Miss Xia… When she heard the Shu family was here, she agreed to let Miss Xia leave with them.”

Silence.

Then a crash. The study table overturned, its contents shattering.

“Excellent. Has she suddenly regained her wits today?”

Zhu Lu’s face darkened. “I’ll bring Xia’er back.”

“Bring her back? She may never return if she stays with that woman.”

Zhu Lu inhaled slowly. “She won’t stay long. And I’ll speak to Mother again. Let’s focus on what matters. The prefect is still investigating. The Provincial Judge may favor us now, but who knows how long that will last?”

—

Qiu Huanian, concerned after Ru Tang’s narrow escape, prepared a gift and took Jiu Jiu to visit her the next day.

The Shu couple could not express enough gratitude to Qiu Huanian. Had it not been for his timely warning and the letter he sent to inform Prefect Si Jing, Ru Tang’s escape would not have gone so smoothly.

Huang Daniang and Huang Erniang had been residing in the side courtyard of the Shu household, preparing a variety of nourishing dishes to comfort Ru Tang.

To Qiu Huanian’s surprise, he encountered Zhu Xia at the Shu residence.

Like Ru Tang, Zhu Xia’s hands were wrapped in bandages, rendering her clumsy and slow as she struggled with her chopsticks in solitude.

Upon seeing Qiu Huanian and Jiu Jiu, her expression froze, and she quickly retreated into her room.

“Why is Zhu Xia here?” he asked.

Huang Daniang sighed. “She’s just a poor girl. She suffered on Ru Tang’s behalf, so we’ve taken her in for the time being.”

Ru Tang softly recounted the harrowing events following their abduction, leaving Qiu Huanian and Jiu Jiu stunned.

When she mentioned the death of Hong Luo, Jiu Jiu nearly let out a cry.

Upon hearing that a young woman named Gu’er had been among the traffickers, Qiu Huanian began to draw connections. This clue could be handed over to Prefect Si Jing as well. Moreover, the Zhu family harbored unsavory secrets—it was time to investigate them thoroughly.

The last breach had been suspicious; this time, caution was paramount.

…

By May, the cotton plants had grown tall, and occasional red blossoms had begun to bloom.

This was the critical period for irrigation—too little water would parch the plants, while too much would cause waterlogging and root rot. Precise watering was essential.

At the same time, bollworms had begun to appear, and pest control became a pressing concern.

Thirty acres of cotton had been sown this year—failure was not an option. Qiu Huanian frequently visited the estate to oversee the work personally.

Wei Li, meticulous and astute, served as an effective intermediary between Qiu Huanian and the tenant farmers, sparing him much effort.

That day, Du Yunse was on leave, and the two arrived at the estate together.

The sun was mercilessly bright. Du Yunse alighted first and opened a delicate gauze umbrella to shield Qiu Huanian from the sun.

Qiu Huanian took his hand, and they walked together toward the fields.

Old Deng and the others exchanged knowing glances. In all their years, they had rarely seen a couple so deeply affectionate.

Upon hearing of Qiu Huanian’s arrival, Wei Li promptly came forward with the ledger to report.

“The majority of the thirty acres is doing well. The day before yesterday, one plot was accidentally overwatered for half an hour. The leaves are slightly wilted, but they should recover in a few days.”

Qiu Huanian instructed, “Record the exact amount of water used, the severity of the wilting, and the duration of recovery.”

Wei Li acknowledged the order. Since taking charge of agricultural record-keeping, he had learned a great deal from Qiu Huanian and had become increasingly proficient.

Qiu Huanian inspected the fields for a while until a village elder arrived with a small basket of plums.

“Are the plums ripe already?”

“Still a few days before the main harvest, but the earliest batch of green plums is ready. Let the Township Lord try some.”

Qiu Huanian selected a particularly vibrant green plum, wiped it with a handkerchief, and brought it to Du Yunse’s lips.

“Try it first—see if it’s too sour,” he said with a tender smile, clearly confident.

Du Yunse took a bite.

“Well?” Qiu Huanian asked.

“It’s sweet, with just a touch of tartness.”

“Really?” Qiu Huanian, skeptical, picked another, wiped it clean, and bit into it.

The sweet and tangy juice exploded in his mouth, its refreshing taste a perfect balm for the summer heat.

Sure enough, it was only mildly sour. Du Yunse had not exaggerated.

Satisfied, Qiu Huanian said, “Pick half a basket later—I’ll take some to give as gifts.”

He was thinking of Su Xinbai’s poor appetite. Perhaps fresh plums would help stimulate it.

“How are the plums usually handled?”

“Most are sold to merchants dealing in dried fruit, some are brought to town for retail, and a portion is kept for household use.”

Qiu Huanian nodded. “Proceed as before. If labor is short, have Old Deng arrange for extra help. I’ll still review the accounts, so ensure everything is properly recorded.”

The couple continued strolling, Du Yunse carefully holding the umbrella so that Qiu Huanian remained shaded.

Qiu Huanian recalled a saying from modern times: a model boyfriend is one who will hold an umbrella for you all summer long.

By that measure, Du Yunse was the gold standard—and not only in this regard.

He glanced at Du Yunse’s refined and handsome features, a smile unconsciously playing on his lips.

Noticing, Du Yunse’s gaze softened.

After so long together, he could more or less read Brother Hua’s thoughts.

That look likely meant he was once again admiring his face.

Du Yunse wasn’t vain, but knowing Qiu Huanian appreciated his appearance brought him quiet joy.

Of course, such indulgent thoughts were not for others to know.

They arrived at the section managed by Bing Qi and Bing Ba, where the brothers were spraying the cotton with biological enzymes.

The sprayer device—originally Qiu Huanian’s design—had been improved by the two and now functioned more efficiently. Qiu Huanian rewarded each of them with five taels of silver for their innovation.

Bing Qi and Bing Ba were not tenant farmers. After settling in, Qiu Huanian had asked whether they wished to move elsewhere.

But both had declined.

“We spent over a decade walking on eggshells in the palace. Now we just want an ordinary life. The estate is peaceful and communal—just what we need.”

After finishing their work, they invited Qiu Huanian and Du Yunse to visit their home.

Using their skills and some reward money, the brothers had refurbished their modest thatched cottage.

While they hadn’t rebuilt it entirely, they had reinforced the walls with wooden planks, laid brick in the courtyard, and replaced the windows, doors, and frames.

The home was furnished with bespoke pieces made to measure. Bing Ba, a talented woodcarver, had adorned the furniture with delicate patterns. If crafted from fine wood, these could command high prices in the city.

The main room doubled as a sitting and dining area, with side rooms for each brother. As Granny Wei and Wei Li brought them meals, they had no kitchen—only a stove for boiling water.

They poured water for their guests, and Qiu Huanian drank without hesitation or pretense.

Bing Qi sat down, his usual composure giving way to rare unease.

“You were assigned to me by His Majesty,” Qiu Huanian said calmly. “Unless circumstances change, you’ll remain here. I value skilled artisans and treat you like kin. If something troubles you, speak freely.”

Bing Ba scratched his head awkwardly. “It’s not exactly trouble…”

Bing Qi hesitated. “Please, Township Lord, keep what I’m about to say in confidence.”

“I’d like to inquire about Wei Li’s background.”

Qiu Huanian paused, then understood.

Having lived in the palace, Bing Qi and Bing Ba had never had the opportunity to marry. Now, free men in their prime—capable, solvent, and eligible—they were understandably thinking of settling down.

Old Deng had once mentioned that several matchmakers had approached the brothers, only to be politely declined.

Now, from Bing Qi’s inquiry, it seemed he had taken an interest in Wei Li.

Qiu Huanian replied evenly, “Wei Li is Granny Wei’s nephew by birth. They came here together as famine refugees. That much is common knowledge—why ask me?”

Bing Qi sighed. “I know I may seem foolish. I thought myself a worthy match, and when I developed feelings, I approached Granny Wei directly.”

“But she told me Wei Li would never agree and asked me not to scare him. I didn’t understand at first, but then I heard about the imperial commissioner who was purged and later came to the estate. I suspect there may be a complicated history.”

Qiu Huanian was silent for a moment before answering.

“I can’t disclose Wei Li’s past. All I’ll say is he’s endured much and has fought hard to come this far. He intends to stay on the estate with Granny Wei for life. From the way he speaks, he has no intention of marrying.”

Bing Qi’s expression darkened.

“If he ever chooses to share his past, that is his right. But don’t press him—not now. As Granny Wei said, don’t frighten him.”

“If you’re only seeking a good match, I advise you to look elsewhere.”

“But if you’re truly willing to wait, then wait—but I cannot promise you success.”

Bing Qi nodded solemnly. “Thank you, Township Lord, for your candor.”

It seemed he had no intention of giving up.