The Overachieving Little Husband of the Top Scholar’s Household - Chapter 97: Insatiable Human Hearts

Chapter 97: Insatiable Human Hearts

Traveling by carriage from the prefectural city to Du Village would take at least three days at best. Qiu Huanian and his entourage, in no great hurry, let the procession move at an unhurried pace, stopping often to rest. It took them nearly six days to reach Zhang County.

Along the way, people frequently approached them—some bearing gifts in hopes of forging connections, others merely wishing to bask in the scholarly aura of the newly honored Juren for bragging rights. Du Yunse declined them all without exception.

Now a man of official standing, Du Yunse’s terse refusals were met with only respectful smiles; none dared voice any displeasure.

As their carriages entered Zhang County, Qiu Huanian lifted the ornate curtain and looked outside.

“It’s been nearly a year since we were last here, and yet the county seems just the same.”

From the driver’s seat, Jin San chuckled. “My lord jests. How much could change in a year’s time?”

A convoy of carriages entering town naturally drew attention.

They planned to enjoy a warm meal and take a short rest before heading to Du Village, which was already not far off.

Upon arrival, Qiu Huanian instructed Jin San to find the best eatery in town.

Jin San nodded and stepped away, but before he had gone far, a familiar voice called out.

“May I ask if these carriages carry Jieyuan Du and Township Lord Qiu Shu?”

Qiu Huanian peered out again. Standing nearby was Wang Cheng, the owner of the stationery shop in Qingfu Town.

“Wang Cheng? What brings you here today?”

Wang Cheng’s face lit up at the sight of Qiu Huanian and Du Yunse.

“Ah, so the gentlemen remember me!”

When Qiu Huanian first crossed over into this world, his family had been destitute. Before the Qingming Festival, he had earned a decent sum painting sacrificial papers for Wang Cheng, who not only paid promptly but also brought him food while he worked—a kindness Qiu Huanian remembered well.

“Are you returning home to visit family?” Wang Cheng asked with a grin.

“We are,” Qiu Huanian replied. “Yun Se has passed the provincial exams. We’ve returned to pay our respects to our ancestors and stay for a while.”

“We were just looking for a place to eat before heading home.”

“I know a place,” Wang Cheng offered. “Excellent food, plenty of space for your carriages—it’s owned by a friend of mine. You’ll like it, I’m sure.”

Qiu Huanian nodded, and Wang Cheng led the way as the procession followed slowly behind.

They arrived at a two-story building in the southern part of town.

“Second Brother Meng, we have distinguished guests!” Wang Cheng called out.

To Qiu Huanian’s surprise, out walked Meng Wudong—an old acquaintance.

From the carriage behind, Meng Yuanling leapt down the moment he heard the voice.

“Second Brother? You opened a restaurant? When did this happen?!”

Meng Wudong smiled and ruffled his younger brother’s hair. “You’ve grown taller. Yun Cheng must’ve taken good care of you.”

Yun Cheng climbed down from the carriage and greeted him with a nod.

Brother Ling crossed his arms, now more perceptive than before.

“Don’t deflect! Tell us—what’s going on with this restaurant?”

Meng Wudong gave a sheepish cough. “It opened just this month. I meant to write, but didn’t have the chance. And it’s not fully mine—I just invested in it and now hold a share.”

Brother Ling narrowed his eyes. His instincts told him there was more to the story.

“Enough questions,” Meng Wudong said, feigning annoyance. “You’ve come a long way—go park the carriages and come inside. The meal’s on me.”

He chuckled to himself. Brother Ling had grown much sharper in the past half-year.

Qiu Huanian and Du Yunse exchanged a few words with Meng Wudong. The others followed suit, teasing him about his sudden entrepreneurial turn.

They all gathered in the first-floor hall, which was mostly empty as it wasn’t peak mealtime.

Qiu Huanian asked for a spread of simple, home-style dishes—they had been on the road for days and needed something easy on the stomach.

While Meng Wudong busied himself with arrangements, Brother Ling leaned close to Qiu Huanian and whispered, “Hua ge, don’t you think Second Brother’s hiding something? Help me figure it out.”

Qiu Huanian smiled knowingly. Yun Cheng tugged Brother Ling back by the waist.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Brother Ling protested.

“We’ll eat first. Ask later,” Yun Cheng said calmly.

Brother Ling nodded solemnly. “We must get to the bottom of this.”

Yun Cheng handed him a piece of fruit, silencing him for the moment.

Soon the waiters arrived with an array of generous, flavorful dishes. Despite their simplicity, the food was excellent.

The restaurant, nestled in a humble neighborhood, was plainly furnished but clean, clearly aiming to keep prices low and tables full.

Accompanying Meng Wudong was a woman who introduced herself as the chef.

“Greetings, my lords. Since you didn’t order specifically, I prepared the dishes I know best. You are seasoned travelers—if something doesn’t suit your taste, please don’t hesitate to tell me. I consider it an honor to learn.”

She looked to be in her twenties, dressed simply with sleeves rolled up to her elbows, her features sharp and eyes alert.

Qiu Huanian admired her frankness and lack of affectation.

“Second Brother Meng, won’t you introduce us?”

Meng Wudong stepped forward. “This is Shen Sai. She came here with her widowed mother from the neighboring county. Her late father was a chef, and she inherited his skills. We met while I was selling goods in town and got along well. We both put in money and opened this place.”

“It’s been less than ten days. We haven’t even named it yet,” he added, glancing at Brother Ling.

Brother Ling crossed his arms, still suspicious.

Shen Sai’s name struck Qiu Huanian as unusual for a woman of this era—but he didn’t question it. A name is a matter of preference, not of tradition.

Judging from Meng Wudong’s expression and the subtle looks he cast at her, Qiu Huanian quickly grasped what he wasn’t saying.

Meng Yuanling did too, whispering something to Yun Cheng.

Flustered, Meng Wudong cleared his throat.

“If the food suits your tastes,” he said to Qiu Huanian, “could I trouble you to name the restaurant? And… perhaps Jieyuan Du might honor us by writing the plaque?”

Despite their friendship, asking this of a Township Lord and a Jieyuan felt bold. Meng Wudong rubbed his calloused hands, his face flushed.

Du Yunse simply replied, “Prepare ink and brush. I’ll write it after the meal.”

It was the first plaque he had agreed to write since their journey began.

Qiu Huanian smiled. “Let me think of a name… How about Sai Bai Wei?”

“Wonderful! Perfect!” Meng Wudong exclaimed at once.

Shen Sai, too, smiled and thanked him sincerely.

Qiu Huanian hesitated. “Actually, I was half-joking. Perhaps I should think of another.”

Meng Wudong looked confused. The name was clearly a good one—why take it back?

Qiu Huanian couldn’t very well admit that the name came from a fast-food chain in another world, so he simply laughed.

But the phrase Sai Bai Wei was too catchy, and no better name came to mind.

Shen Sai said gently, “The Township Lord may have said it in jest, but I find the name meaningful and auspicious. If you don’t mind, I’d like to use it.”

Hearing that, Qiu Huanian nodded. And thus, in this world, there would be a “Sai Bai Wei” named by him—an amusing thought.

He whispered to Du Yunse, “Write it beautifully.”

Du Yunse smiled and nodded.

After the meal, Du Yunse wrote the plaque, the carriages were brought around, and they prepared to depart.

Meng Wudong came to see them off.

He told Meng Yuanling, “After you get back, stay in Du Village for a few days. Then come home for a bit—it’s close anyway.”

Meng Yuanling tugged at his brother’s sleeve. “You have to be there when I visit. I’ve got questions.”

Meng Wudong looked stricken. “Brother Ling, I’m begging you—not a word about Miss Sai at home.”

“Why not? You’re not getting any younger, and our parents are worried. Isn’t this a good thing?”

He frantically gestured for him to lower his voice, glancing around to make sure Shen Sai wasn’t in earshot.

“It’s complicated,” he muttered. “I’ll explain when I come back—just promise me, don’t bring it up.”

Still confused, Meng Yuanling reluctantly agreed.

By evening, they finally reached Du Village.

Qiu Huanian drew back the curtain to gaze out at the familiar landscape, his heart surging with quiet joy.

He pulled Du Yunse close. “Look—remember when we rode that mule cart to town and the mule stopped because its hoof hurt? We rested over there, and you made a garland for me out of wildflowers.”

“And there—the water was so clear and cool. You held me as I waded in it, and when I slipped, you were terrified for days.”

“Is that… our field, just ahead? The crops are gone now, but you’d have seen the cotton and wheat in bloom.”

He spoke breathlessly, caught in the flood of memories. From the moment they neared Du Village, he hadn’t stopped talking.

Du Yunse, arm around his waist, listened in silence, smiling.

Each recollection seemed to bloom in full color between them.

Eventually, Qiu Huanian fell quiet and leaned into him.

“Yun Se, I…”

The words stalled on his tongue.

Du Yunse gently pulled the curtain shut and kissed him deeply.

…

They reached the village gates at twilight. A child ran ahead to alert the villagers, and soon a crowd had gathered to welcome the returning Juren and Township Lord.

Du Zhenhe, the clan patriarch, stood at the front with a cane.

A year had aged him significantly; his back was no longer as straight as it once was.

Time, after all, moves fastest for the very old and the very young.

Qiu Huanian noticed how much the village children had grown—some were nearly adolescents now, and he almost failed to recognize them.

After disembarking, Du Yunse and Qiu Huanian helped the patriarch forward.

The old man patted Du Yunse’s arm. “Well done, child. A Juren—and a Jieyuan, no less. Our ancestors would be proud.”

“Now I can pass on in peace, knowing I have face before them.”

“Please don’t speak such words,” Du Yunse said softly. “You are still strong.”

The old man chuckled. “At my age, one measures time carefully. My only goal now is not to bring shame before I go.”

Their home had already been cleaned by Meng Fuyue in anticipation of their return.

As Qiu Huanian entered the courtyard, he was struck speechless by the familiarity of it all.

Jin San, old lady Jin, and Shanhu were dusting and organizing the luggage, placing everything exactly as the master’s family liked.

The peach tree had grown taller, its leaves still clinging. The stone table bore some cracks, but remained sturdy.

Qiu Huanian wandered through the rooms. Everything was just as he’d left it.

Jin San fetched river water to heat for washing. Old lady Jin made the beds.

Qiu Huanian told them, “We’ve all been worn out these past few days. Just get some simple groceries from the neighbors and prepare an easy meal. Let everyone rest early.”

Old lady Jin agreed with a smile.

In her years of service, she had never encountered a master as kind and thoughtful as Township Lord Qi Shu.

Being sold into his household had truly been a blessing for her and her grandchildren.

Qiu Huanian thought he might have trouble sleeping after being away so long, but as soon as he lay down, he fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

Du Yunse, returning from the washroom, looked down at the sleeping figure—the same one who had been chattering at his side mere moments ago.

He tucked in the blanket, leaned down to kiss him, and then turned off the lamp. He slid into bed and wrapped Qiu Huanian tightly in his arms.

Qiu Huanian murmured something in his sleep but did not stir.

The next morning, their busy days resumed.

Du Yunse took his draft of the new clan rules to consult with the clan patriarch.

Qiu Huanian stayed home to receive a steady stream of guests and oversee preparations for the ancestral rites.

News of their return had spread quickly through Zhang County, and many came to pay their respects.

Hu Qiuyan, having brought her son Yun Kang home, thought things had finally calmed—her husband Baoshan had kept quiet for two days.

Then, one morning, he shut the door behind them and presented her with a silver hairpin.

“Darling, do you like this? It cost one and a half taels—real pearls.”

Hu Qiuyan turned her head away. “Where did you get the money for this? I told you not to accept things from people.”

“It was just a token,” Baoshan muttered. “It would’ve been rude to refuse.”

“Tell me the truth—what do they want from Yun Se and Hua ge?”

Baoshan sighed. “Just a plaque for their shop. It’s nothing for Yun Se—just a stroke of the brush.”

“They already did one for Meng Wudong. Are we any less important than him?”