Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 27

27: Opening the Door to a New World

When Yun Jingchu arrived at Bamboo Garden Estate yesterday, she found tenant farmers and laborers outside the gates in a tense standoff, on the verge of violence. Baoqin, Yuanqi, and another hired hand were desperately trying to mediate, but the crowd deliberately ignored Yun Jingchu’s arrival—even when Niu Zhuang shouted “The estate master is here!” at the top of his lungs.

Inside the gates, Steward Wu and two maids watched the spectacle like it was entertainment, barely mustering reluctant bows when Yun Jingchu approached—a stark contrast to Baoqin’s group, who greeted her eagerly.

Having long known Steward Wu’s character, Yun Jingchu wasn’t angered but refused to indulge them. If the troublemakers chose to ignore her, she’d ignore them right back—a test of endurance.

She went straight to the estate manager’s quarters, only to find the supposedly bedridden man reeking of alcohol, lips greasy, and complexion ruddy—hardly the picture of illness. Couldn’t even fake it convincingly while trying to manipulate her?

After pretending concern, she feigned leaving until the manager “remembered” urgent matters to report. With theatrical sobs, he complained how Steward Wu had interfered since her arrival—berating him, oppressing tenants, and even spreading rumors about rent increases.

Translation: Yun Jingchu sending Niu Zhuang’s team had threatened him, so he orchestrated this “tenant revolt” to intimidate the “inexperienced young mistress” into dependence. As for Steward Wu—either his scapegoat or co-conspirator. Either way, Yun Jingchu intended to dismiss them all.

Both Steward Wu and the manager were Yuan-shi’s people, making this Yun Jingchu versus Yuan-shi, not the manager. Hiring Niu Zhuang was precisely to reclaim control—why would she yield to Yuan-shi’s schemes?

But with the estate’s staff and tenants loyal to the manager, Yun Jingchu played along superficially. The manager, overjoyed, nearly forgot his “illness” in eagerness to resolve the “revolt,” only belatedly excusing himself to “rest first.”

Yun Jingchu matched his act with diplomatic pleasantries. When he later returned with a dozen men to boast of success, she had the kitchen prepare a feast—complete with estate-stored alcohol.

She delivered flowery praise, promising unlimited food and drink for all workers, including cooks. While others cheered, the manager secretly tested for poison with a silver needle before reluctantly joining.

Internally sneering at Yun Jingchu’s “naive” attempt to buy loyalty with food, the manager maintained his sickly act, “apologizing” for drinking tea instead of wine—which Yun Jingchu graciously permitted.

Having investigated beforehand, Yun Jingchu knew the manager exploited his subordinates nearly as badly as tenants, skimming every possible resource. Such rare feasts would inevitably lead to overindulgence.

Her open strategy involved no poison—just calculated intoxication. True to form, most men collapsed drunk, the few semi-conscious ones unable to stand. After families retrieved their inebriated members, a dozen still lay sprawled—including the “sick” manager who, unwilling to exert himself or task his family, borrowed Yun Jingchu’s last two sober guards.

To maintain appearances, Yun Jingchu’s entire retinue—including Niu Zhuang—had joined the feast, though she’d kept two guards discreetly sober for safety. Feigning tipsiness, she loaned the men readily, even praising the manager’s “brilliant resolution” of the tenant issue—making him squirm internally, since the revolt was his and Steward Wu’s plot approved by Yuan-shi.

(Yuan-shi had wanted to summon and reprimand Yun Jingchu immediately after learning of her personnel changes, but Yun Suzhi intercepted and reported to Yun Changliang, resulting in Yuan-shi being chastised instead—hence her eagerness to approve this scheme.)

Once the manager left with her guards, Yun Jingchu “staggered” back to her quarters supported by Baoqin and Yuanqi. The manager smiled until she disappeared, then set his youngest son to supervise the borrowed guards.

When the boy failed to return by late evening, the worried manager was about to investigate when Yun Jingchu’s maids summoned him for “urgent discussions.” Walking unsuspectingly into the main hall, he was ambushed and bound by supposedly drunk men—finally realizing the trap when facing a perfectly sober Yun Jingchu.

By then, Yun Jingchu’s abdominal cramps had begun. Though eager to interrogate him immediately, prioritizing security, she had the manager and Steward Wu’s group imprisoned first.

(Tian Qingyi’s insistence on extra guards proved crucial—without them, this operation would’ve been impossible. While the manager anticipated poison, he couldn’t stop his men from drinking themselves into vulnerability.)

Simultaneously, “drunk” Niu Zhuang’s team discreetly notified tenants per estate records to assemble next morning for “major announcements.” By the time arrangements finished, Yun Jingchu’s pain intensified—just before Tian Qingyi’s unexpected arrival.

Niu Zhuang interrogated the prisoners overnight. Steward Wu blamed everything on the manager, who reciprocated by accusing her of instigation. Yet kitchen staff and accountants revealed their collusion—jointly deciding rent hikes, coercing tenants, and staging the revolt.

Come morning, Yun Jingchu listened impassively. Steward Wu, as her wet nurse, had committed countless offenses—this collusion surprised no one. What did surprise was neither implicating Yuan-shi, whom Yun Jingchu believed undoubtedly involved. Her hope of exposing the Yun family’s true nature to Tian Qingyi thus failed.

Having received notices, tenants assumed rent hikes and arrived exhausted from sleepless worry. After confirming full attendance, Yun Jingchu announced from the hall steps:

First, mimicking Tian Qingyi’s ancestral home speech, she granted all non-protesting tenants a 20% rent reduction this year. Moreover, Bamboo Garden Estate would never raise rents—maintaining current crop-sharing terms (50-50 without estate tools, 60-40 with) as long as she owned it.

For tenants accustomed only to local headmen’s authority, learning their new mistress’s husband was a Doctoral Graduate had initially terrified them—until these unprecedented concessions left many dumbstruck. A village leader’s quick-witted congratulations broke the silence, sparking grateful cheers.

Yesterday’s protesters, conspicuously excluded, dared not complain under armed guards’ watchful presence.

Yun Jingchu, uncomfortable with “benefactor” praises (her actions being both convention and pacification), maintained a pleased composure.

Her second announcement involved personnel: all original staff except the manager’s prisoners were dismissed (including last night’s gatekeeper—a previous victim of the manager’s). Niu Zhuang became the new manager, his partner the accountant, with twenty temporary hires and two cooks to be recruited—open to qualified tenants excluding yesterday’s protesters.

Those still wishing to withdraw leases could do so per original terms. The crowd’s eyes turned to yesterday’s rioters, who remained silent—having acted only under the manager’s threats. With seedlings already planted, abandoning leases now meant starvation.

Bamboo Garden’s eighteen tenant households (ranging from 3 to over 10 members, totaling ~100 people, ~50 able-bodied) had most laborers still home post-harvest. Only twenty protesters (half elderly/women) had appeared yesterday.

Proximity and Yun Jingchu’s generous terms (meals, lodging, monthly wages, plus summer clothing) attracted many applicants, though few met her standards.

(The summer clothing was actually the former manager’s demand for his men—”new master, new clothes” being customary. As the new owner, Yun Jingchu couldn’t openly refuse then.)

Protesters lost both rent reduction and village leader eligibility, with repeat offenses meaning expulsion. Still, Yun Jingchu’s “carrot”—200-cash rent discounts—followed the “stick,” demonstrating her grasp of management psychology.

Thus before visiting Tian Qingyi, Yun Jingchu had pacified tenants, reinforced rules, arranged hiring, and even read briefly—a coverless, untitled memoir by a previous owner that unexpectedly introduced her to The Polished Mirror: a Tang-era palace tale about a scholarly female official and lively maid whose love ended tragically during rebellion.

The author claimed this true story came from her palace-maid aunt. This revelation opened Yun Jingchu’s eyes to possibilities never imagined—explaining last night’s avoidance, her curiosity about Tian Qingyi despite knowing “his” true gender, those stolen glances…

So women can love women!

Thus when seeing Baoqin take Tian Qingyi’s clothes to the side chamber, she inexplicably followed.

“…That’s the situation. Does my husband find it satisfactory?” Yun Jingchu summarized the tenant affair, omitting Yuan-shi entirely.

Tian Qingyi, washing up in Daoist robes that accentuated his striking features, made Yun Jingchu’s gaze longer. Perhaps the maid loved an official like this—beautiful, wise, and learned.

Startled by “husband”—Yun Jingchu never used this privately—Tian Qingyi turned to find her smiling with unprecedented softness and tenderness.

Flustered, Tian Qingyi averted his eyes. “Quite satisfactory, though risky. You’re not at home—bring more people next time.”

“Your hand…does it still hurt?” Yun Jingchu asked, longing to inspect the bite mark but restrained by their usual decorum.

Tian Qingyi instinctively covered it with his sleeve. “Just a scratch—long healed. I’m rather hungry.” (Having adapted to Northern Song routines, he typically breakfast before 9 AM—now past 10 AM.)

Yun Jingchu: “That’s good. The estate is simple and can’t compare to home. The kitchen has only prepared steamed buns and soup noodles. I’ve already asked Yuanqi to fetch them. If we head to the front hall now, the timing should be just right.”