Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 24

24: Two Choices for You

Though she had never learned to play Go in the modern era, the original owner’s memories gave her some skill. Confident she wouldn’t lose too badly—thanks to a misplaced sense of self-assurance—Tian Qingyi agreed to a match.

In the first game, after some polite deferrals, Tian Qingyi took black and moved first. In less than the time it took for an incense stick to burn, Yun Jingchu’s white stones had encircled most of the board. Faced with inevitable defeat, Tian Qingyi placed two black stones on the board and conceded gracefully.

“Yongnian’s skill far surpasses mine. I admit defeat.”

“You were too kind.” Yun Jingchu had expected stubborn resistance, so this straightforward surrender surprised her. What shocked her more was how bad Tian Qingyi was—like a complete novice. It extinguished any desire for a rematch.

Unaware of her own ineptitude, Tian Qingyi basked in pride over her “decent first attempt” and eagerly proposed another game.

The maids Baoqin and Qingyu, though ignorant of Go, were equally startled by the swift conclusion.

As Yun Jingchu absentmindedly collected stones and Tian Qingyi anticipated the next round, the portly steward Yang Neizhi arrived, summoning them to a welcoming banquet in the main hall.

The next day was tomb-sweeping. Under clear skies, the entire Jiufang clan gathered before an altar laden with offerings: wine, meat, fruit, and fresh pig, sheep, and ox heads. Men and women stood in separate rows. After rites concluded, feasting began immediately—a custom called “drinking blessings,” where consuming ancestral offerings was believed to bring good fortune.

This mirrored Tian Qingyi’s modern Qingming rituals, where offerings were eaten on-site. The sheer volume of food and drink seemed excessive—until the nearly hundred Jiufang members and dozens of servants devoured every last crumb.

On the third day, ancestral rites moved to the family shrine. Jiufang Lai had hired Daoist priests for a three-day ceremony. Tian Qingyi, who’d planned to return to Kaifeng the next day, was irked. She’d intended to bathe after the trip; now, stuck here for three more days, her mood soured further.

It wasn’t the rural setting—the ancestral estate’s sprawling grounds and ponds were lovely—but the eight rambunctious “cousins” born from relatives emulating Jiufang Xin’s prolific breeding. Their parents let them run wild, only quieting during formal rituals.

Worse were the nightly vegetarian banquets, where aunts paraded gaudily dressed “cousins” to toast Tian Qingyi. By the second evening, she realized: they were pushing these girls as concubines.

Disgusted, she confronted Jiufang Lai. Though he promised no further matchmaking, the damage was done. Every glance at him reignited her revulsion at their exploitation of teenage girls.

Trapped by unfinished rites, Tian Qingyi retaliated passively. That afternoon, after barely an hour at the shrine, she feigned illness and retreated with Yun Jingchu to Houzeyuan—their private sanctuary, free from noisy cousins.

They’d scarcely settled when a servant announced visitors from “Bamboo Garden Estate.” Confused—Yun Jingchu’s dowry lands bore no such name—Tian Qingyi watched as Yun Jingchu explained:

“I renamed Pingshang Estate for its bamboo grove.”

“But how did they know you were here?” Tian Qingyi blurted.

Yun Jingchu nearly rolled her eyes. “The two laborers we brought? I sent Baoqin and Yuanqi with them to the estate days ago.”

“If you need my help, just ask,” Tian Qingyi offered.

Yun Jingchu’s face brightened. “With your support, managing the estate will be easier.”

Pleased, Tian Qingyi frowned at her next words: “Between us, use ‘I,’ not ‘this humble one.’”

The maids gaped. In their world, women’s self-deprecation was standard.

Yun Jingchu, though puzzled, agreed.

Encouraged, Tian Qingyi added, “You’ll manage well—you’ve done brilliantly with Yuzhu Residence. Don’t fear mistakes; I’ll back you.”

The praise warmed Yun Jingchu. Since her mother’s death, no one had believed in her like this.

“You smile beautifully,” Tian Qingyi murmured, mesmerized.

Flustered, Yun Jingchu turned away. “You flatter me.”

Qingyu, observing, frowned. Her master had changed since marriage—new preferences, softened edges, and now this look while complimenting Yun Jingchu. Were they not both women, she’d suspect…

The visitor arrived—one of the hired laborers, Niu Zhuang (“Strong Bull”), a gaunt man whose name mocked his frame.

“Bamboo Garden’s steward fell ill,” he reported. “Tenants demand to withdraw leases. They’ll only speak to the new owner.”

With rice seedlings freshly planted, such demands were drastic. Yun Jingchu’s calm facade hid fury. After dismissing Niu Zhuang, she ordered a carriage.

“You’re going?” Tian Qingyi asked, uneasy. Tenant disputes could turn volatile.

“It’s not far—I’ll return by dusk.”

Yun Jingchu planned to take four maids, a driver, and two laborers.

“Too few.” Tian Qingyi insisted on adding four more men and Zhou Ba, Jiufang Xiyan’s personal guard.

Zhou Ba arrived, sword in hand, and refused: “My duty is to protect the young master.”

Yun Jingchu tried mediating, but Tian Qingyi cut in: “Then I’ll go too.”

A standoff ensued.

Finally, Tian Qingyi dismissed everyone and faced Zhou Ba. “For years of service, I offer two choices: First, obey me henceforth, and your privileges remain. Second—leave.”

Zhou Ba’s loyalty was to Jiufang Xin alone. Though well-compensated, he’d never bowed to Tian Qingyi.

After a long pause, he clasped his fists. “Young master, farewell.”