Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 30

30: Giving Yongnian Four Hairpins

The woman had naturally noticed Tian Qingyi—his striking appearance and unusually clear gaze made him stand out. Leaving the man behind, she approached Tian Qingyi and curtsied. “Greetings, great official. Have you come to fetch this humble one?”

The young man followed, about to shout abuse, but seeing Tian Qingyi’s scholar attire, he swallowed his anger and turned on the woman instead. “I’m your elder brother! Spending your money is giving you face—don’t be ungrateful! Hand it over now, or you’ll regret it!”

As the siblings argued, patrolling guards from the neighborhood watch post took notice. Seeing a scholar involved, they stepped forward. “Who are you? Why are you causing a public disturbance?”

The previously aggressive man immediately cowered, ducking behind his sister. It was she who answered: “Honored officers, I was waiting here when this madman accosted me. I beg for your justice.”

The man trembled with rage, glaring and pointing at her, managing only a strangled “You—” before trying to flee—only to be blocked by another guard.

The watch captain reached out, likely expecting a bribe, but his companion urgently pulled him back, whispering, “That’s Jiufang Xiyan—the one I told you about.”

Shooting his subordinate a reproachful look, the captain bowed to Tian Qingyi with a smile. “Greetings, Jiufang Xiyan. I’m Yang, newly appointed captain. To think this youth is deranged enough to harass you—we’ll take him away immediately.”

“My thanks, Captain Yang.” Tian Qingyi returned the courtesy. Delighted, Yang hauled the man off, leaving the woman sighing in relief—as if the arrested weren’t her brother at all.

“My gratitude, Official Jiufang.” Her thanks were genuine. Trapped in the altercation, she’d involved Tian Qingyi as her only recourse, guilt weighing on her. “If convenient, I would host a banquet to express my thanks.”

“A trifling matter, unworthy of mention. Take care, young lady.” Tian Qingyi wanted no further contact—not out of disdain for her status, but fearing the more she learned, the harder it would be to remain uninvolved.

“Thank you!” Assuming he looked down on her profession, she pressed no further, offering a deep bow to his retreating back before leaving.

They walked opposite directions, the crowd dispersing once the spectacle ended. Only a robed scholar watching from a tavern’s upper floor observed their parting, then sent a servant after the woman.

——

The fifth day of the fifth month—Dragon Boat Festival—arrived swiftly. Though the festival proper was today, preparations had begun on the first throughout Kaifeng. Every household, including the Jiufang residence, had hung calamus and mugwort by their doors.

Gifts for relatives and friends were dispatched early, reciprocated with zongzi (sticky rice dumplings) and round fans. The Yun family’s gifts—sweet triangular zongzi, date zongzi, cylindrical sugarcane zongzi, chestnut zongzi, and elaborate nine-linked “nine sons” zongzi towers—were all delivered to Yuzhu Residence by Li Yan, along with mugwort flowers, gardenia-decorated fans, multicolored cords, and “wisdom pouches.”

Mistakenly expecting dragon boat races, Tian Qingyi had eagerly donned white scholar robes. Qingyu adorned her hair with mugwort, tied rainbow cords around her wrists, and fastened a “wisdom pouch” at her waist—traditional accessories the original host had worn every festival.

Only when Yun Jingchu appeared in ordinary dress at breakfast did Tian Qingyi ask, “Aren’t you watching the races?” The puzzled look she received prompted frantic memory-searching.

Kaifeng held no Dragon Boat Festival races—those occurred on the third day of the third month at the imperial Golden Pond Park, spectacular events the original had attended.

Crushed, Tian Qingyi abandoned plans to experience ancient dragon boating until next year. Changing back into her usual blue Daoist robes, she tried removing the festival accessories, but Qingyu insisted: “They ward off evil and bring peace—everyone wears them.”

Realizing Yun Jingchu and the servants all wore variations (Yun Jingchu’s mugwort artfully shaped), Tian Qingyi acquiesced. The festival’s rituals—from morning adornments to zongzi and five-colored dumplings—were indeed immersive.

Wei Shier mentioned the fifth being horses’ zodiac day—grooms would deck their steeds in ornate tack, colorful mane ornaments, and parade them through streets to flaunt family prestige. Curious, Tian Qingyi peeked outside to confirm—many similarly adorned horses passed by.

As she turned back, a familiar black-clad shop clerk arrived carrying a long, thin box. Intercepted at the gate, he explained he’d come to deliver a flute.

Wei Shier accepted the box, presenting it to Tian Qingyi. Inside lay the bamboo flute she’d ordered, complete with complimentary membrane. Though itching to play, she restrained herself—the original hadn’t known how.

No matter—on the road to Huating County, who’ll know or care if I play badly? By our return, I’ll claim I learned along the way.

Approaching Yuzhu Residence, she met Qingyu hastening to find her. “Second Young Master! Ruoshui accidentally broke your prized Duan inkstone while cleaning the study. The Second Madam seeks your judgment.”

Frowning, Tian Qingyi proceeded to find Ruoshui kneeling before shards on a tray, Yun Jingchu stern beside her. After hearing the account, Ruoshui kowtowed. “This lowly one deserves any punishment.”

Yun Jingchu looked to Tian Qingyi—ordinarily, she’d enforce household rules, but the inkstone was Fan Zhuzhu’s birthday gift, dearly treasured.

Under collective gaze, Tian Qingyi sighed. “That inkstone held deep sentiment and value. Its destruction pains me greatly. Return home and reflect—do not return without my summons.”

“May the Young Master and Madam prosper. This servant takes leave.” Tearfully, Ruoshui withdrew, Qingyu escorting her with permission.

After they left, Yun Jingchu ventured, “Was the punishment too harsh?”

“Expelling her would have been justified.” Tian Qingyi’s displeasure seemed genuine—though in truth, the original had cherished the inkstone; to her, it was merely a tool.

That afternoon, Fan Zhuzhu visited with more zongzi, inspecting Tian Qingyi’s luggage to ensure all necessities were packed before departing satisfied.

The festival banquet in the main hall felt cavernous with only Jiufang Xin’s immediate family and Jiufang Lai’s household attending. Jiufang Xin pointedly urged both sons toward progeny—Li Yan and Yun Jingchu lowering their heads awkwardly.

Fan Zhuzhu interjected sharply: “Children come when heaven wills it—no amount of urging hastens fate.” Since Jiufang Xiyan’s exam success, her boldness has grown exponentially.

Though her words defended both sons, Jiufang Qiyu snorted disdainfully while Li Yan shot grateful looks. Yun Jingchu kept her head down—childbearing being irrelevant to her and “Jiufang Xiyan’s” sham marriage.

Jiufang Xin smiled thinly. “Your mother speaks wisely. Let nature take its course.” Raising his cup, he prompted obligatory toasts.

Jiufang Qiyu, unable to stomach Fan Zhuzhu and her son’s apparent triumph, drank sullenly—his resentment noted by Jiufang Xin but ignored. Tian Qingyi remained baffled—what warranted such vitriol from him?

The strained banquet ended abruptly when Jiufang Xin excused himself for health reasons. Still hungry, Tian Qingyi ate another meal at Yuzhu Residence—avoiding zongzi after two sweet ones at the banquet.

——

Before dawn the next day, the Jiufang residence bustled—carriages readied, luggage loaded. Having shared a bed, Tian Qingyi and Yun Jingchu rose early. After washing, Tian Qingyi signaled Qingyu to fetch a small lacquered box.

“Since your jewelry shopping was interrupted,” she said, handing it to Yun Jingchu, “I bought these at a shop. Do you like them?”

Inside lay four hairpins: a gilded jade hairpin, deep blue glass hairpin, phoenix gold hairpin, and phoenix silver hairpin—all exquisite craftsmanship worth at least a hundred strings of cash.

More significantly, they were traditional love tokens for wives.

Thrilled, Yun Jingchu searched Tian Qingyi’s eyes—only to find anticipation, not the tenderness she hoped for. Does he not know their meaning? Yet every child understood these customs—impossible for a 21-year-old scholar to be ignorant.

Remembering her own pre-polished mirror obliviousness about same-s3x love, she reconsidered. Perhaps he simply saw this as spousal propriety. Resolving to give him the anonymous memoir, she beamed. “I love them. You’re truly giving these to me?”

“Of course—who else would they be for?” Tian Qingyi smiled. “If troubles arise after I leave, consult mother. For graver matters, write—I’ll reply promptly.”

“Then I too have a gift.” Yun Jingchu had Baoqin fetch the unnamed memoir. “Since you enjoy unofficial histories, this travel account may amuse you on the road.”

After breakfast, Steward Liu summoned them to the main hall where Zhang Sancheng, Zhou Ba, and other retainers waited with Jiufang Xin’s family.

Tian Qingyi distributed farewell gifts:

– To Jiufang Xin, a “special” temple amulet (actually procured by Qingyu) earning her a stack of flying cash notes
– To Fan Zhuzhu, a gilded Guanyin statuette reciprocated with gold leaf-filled pouch
– To Li Yan, fine silks returned with gold “melon seed” coins
– To Jiufang Qiyu, the cheapest Xuancheng Zhuge brush from the original’s collection—met with an inkstone Li Yan had prepared after Ruoshui’s accident

After Jiufang Xin’s exhortations, Yun Jingchu and Fan Zhuzhu escorted Tian Qingyi to the gates. Mounting his horse, Tian Qingyi found a protective charm pressed into his hand—carefully tucked away despite his skepticism.

Jiufang Qiyu, ordered to see him off to Bianliang Port, departed the instant they arrived. The Zhuge brush gift had incensed him—what scholar gave brushes to someone who hated study?

Precisely Tian Qingyi’s intention—though Jiufang Xin misinterpreted it as fraternal affection, delighting in their “harmony.”