Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 33

33: Does the Beloved Know My Heart?

“How was your journey? How is mother doing lately?” Tian Qingyi asked as they walked through the ceremonial gate, taking the opportunity to put away her fan—she didn’t offer to fan Yun Jingchu again.

Left to fan herself, Yun Jingchu replied, “Aside from needing to rest at noon due to the heat, it was smooth. Since you came to Huating County, mother has been visiting the temple on the first and fifteenth of each month, praying for your safety. Otherwise, nothing much has changed.”

What she didn’t say was that she had once accompanied Fan Zhuzhu to the temple. But her prayers were more extensive—not just for Jiufang Xiyan’s well-being, but also for her own schemes to bear fruit and for her feelings to be reciprocated.

As they chatted, the group passed through the ceremonial gate, the main hall, the central hall, and the Listening to Rain Pavilion before reaching the rear courtyard—a private residence exclusively for the magistrate and family, guarded around the clock like a modern security post.

The courtyard boasted elegant artificial landscapes: the Emerald Light Pavilion, Rippling Flower Pond, Lotus Wind Pavilion, rockeries, and covered walkways. In modern times, such a place would be priceless. Tian Qingyi adored it, often spending her days off lounging here.

By the time they reached the Listening to Rain Pavilion, the perceptive Zhang Sancheng excused himself. The yamen runners and Zhou Ba also withdrew upon entering the courtyard. Anticipating the luggage delivery, Tian Qingyi led Yun Jingchu to a side room to rest.

The walk had left Tian Qingyi sweating profusely. Despite the parasol and fan, the June heat was unbearable. Sitting down, she realized her back was drenched and immediately sent Xiazhu to hurry the chilled drinks.

Before Xiazhu could leave, the kitchen staff arrived with the refreshments. Tian Qingyi instructed them to also deliver portions to Zhang Sancheng, Zhou Ba, Clerk Li, and Sheriff Wu—though off-duty, they lived within the yamen and could still be reached.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I had them prepare extra. Try these.” Tian Qingyi pushed a bowl of chilled dumplings, perilla drink, and iced melons toward Yun Jingchu.

“Perfect for the heat. I love them. You have some too.” Yun Jingchu reciprocated before delicately eating the dumplings.

Tian Qingyi, overheated, was less refined—downing three cups of perilla drink, a bowl of dumplings, and several plums before Xiazhu’s fanning brought slight relief.

“How many people did you bring this time?” Tian Qingyi asked casually, eyeing Yun Jingchu’s three maids.

After swallowing a sip, Yun Jingchu answered, “Four maids, eight laborers—twelve in total. Why?”

“Do you want to keep them all or just some?” After arriving, Tian Qingyi had realized the yamen provided dedicated runners and servants, so she had only kept five attendants, sending the rest back to Kaifeng.

She had worried Yun Jingchu might bring too few people—despite general peace, the roads still had dangers, and this was Yun Jingchu’s first long trip, lacking official transport or lodgings like hers.

“I’d like to keep them all. Is that alright?” Yun Jingchu ventured, hopeful yet wary of refusal.

She knew Tian Qingyi had sent servants back, but she hadn’t come to Huating County to be confined to the inner quarters. Her chosen maids and laborers were obedient and reliable, carefully selected for their usefulness.

“Of course. The expenses are the same whether here or in Kaifeng,” Tian Qingyi agreed without probing further.

They chatted a while longer. Though Yun Jingchu had private words for Jiufang Xiyan, the presence of Wei Shier and the maids made it impossible. Instead, she had a maid retrieve the government gazette Jiufang Xin had asked her to deliver.

The gazette, an internal court circular, detailed the emperor’s plans to promote Champa rice in Jiangnan, Huai, and Zhejiang regions, along with official reassignments.

Tian Qingyi read intently while Yun Jingchu watched, already having spotted a business opportunity she planned to explore in Hangzhou come autumn. When the luggage arrived and Qingyu reported its delivery, Yun Jingchu excused herself to organize her belongings in the main quarters.

After Yun Jingchu left, Tian Qingyi changed into a half-sleeved linen robe and wooden sandals—her usual at-home attire for comfort.

By dinnertime, she had prepared a welcome banquet, inviting Clerk Li and Sheriff Wu with their concubines. Both men, older and experienced, had risen from minor posts—one arriving last winter, the other this spring.

In Kaifeng and during her travels, Tian Qingyi had ignored Jiufang Xin’s notes, barely listening to Zhang Sancheng’s governance lectures. Only upon assuming office did she realize her ignorance—initially, she was a mere figurehead.

Though she considered herself a tech-minded introvert with no management flair, as magistrate, she refused to be incompetent or neglectful. She governed an entire county, responsible for its people—she couldn’t just coast.

Yet excelling was risky—promotion could land her in the imperial court, where Ma Zhusege’s demands for treason or espionage would doom her and implicate Fan Zhuzhu and Yun Jingchu.

Mediocrity was safest—neither outstanding nor failing. But even mediocrity required skill; otherwise, subordinates could deceive her unchecked. Thus, she crammed knowledge, studying Jiufang Xin’s notes twice in a day and badgering Zhang Sancheng until his head spun. Within a month, she could handle official duties and grasp the county’s workings.

Once Clerk Li’s party arrived, Tian Qingyi and Yun Jingchu, both freshly changed, made their entrance. After greetings, they took their seats—Tian Qingyi and Yun Jingchu at the head, Clerk Li and Concubine Zhao to the left, Sheriff Wu and Concubine Qian to the right, each at individual tables.

The banquet commenced with Tian Qingyi’s formal remarks. The guests, having heard of the magistrate’s stunning wife, nodded in approval upon seeing Yun Jingchu—even the previously smug Concubine Qian lowered her head, thinking only such beauty could match the accomplished Magistrate Jiufang.

The feast featured premium dishes and wine, though the limited lamb wine was reserved for the hosts. The party ate, drank, and conversed until nightfall.

By the time Tian Qingyi and Yun Jingchu bathed and lay on cool mats with porcelain pillows, it was the second watch. Exhausted from the heat, Tian Qingyi closed her eyes to sleep—but Yun Jingchu, still energetic, had other plans.

Gazing at the bed canopy, Yun Jingchu asked, “Did you read that book?”

“I did.” Tian Qingyi braced herself—the inevitable conversation had arrived.

“Why didn’t you reply to my letter?”

“It might have been delayed. I received it mid-month, and since you were arriving by month’s end, I thought a face-to-face reply would suffice.”

This was a lie—she’d gotten the letter early but, conflicted and unsure how to respond, had stayed silent.

“Then reply now. I’m listening.” Yun Jingchu’s letter had been brief—daily greetings and questions about “The Polished Mirror”, seeking Jiufang Xiyan’s thoughts.

After a pause, Tian Qingyi said, “Your interpretation is correct. If palace women can love each other, so can ordinary women. But the Zhao dynasty governs with Confucian filial piety—same-s3x love is unlikely to be tolerated. Discovery could bring dire consequences. Openly living as a couple would be as difficult as climbing the Shu roads. Pretending to be sisters might be safer.”

This was partly why Tian Qingyi felt she couldn’t love Yun Jingchu. If her marital deception were exposed, only she would face punishment for deceiving the emperor. But if they were together, Yun Jingchu would be implicated.

Yun Jingchu turned from the bed canopy to face Tian Qingyi. “Rules and norms were created by men. They can’t bear children yet want heirs, so they control us with Confucian ideals, making us believe we’re inferior. But history proves otherwise—Empress Wu Zetian, the Widow Qing of Ba, Hua Mulan—all extraordinary women.”

“If women had the same education and family support as men, we might have produced sages too. Pretending to be sisters avoids some troubles but invites others. Fortunately, we’re already married. So beyond societal rejection and consequences, what matters most is—I adore you. Do you know?”

Tian Qingyi tried to interject, but Yun Jingchu motioned for silence. Stunned, Tian Qingyi marveled at Yun Jingchu’s boldness—so uncharacteristic of the era.

Yun Jingchu’s clarity and courage shamed Tian Qingyi, the modern woman who had hidden behind fear and excuses. She had told herself repeatedly not to love Yun Jingchu, suppressing her feelings despite their pull.

But if Yun Jingchu could be this brave, why couldn’t she?

One more gamble. She had nothing left to lose. If she failed, she’d live alone thereafter.