Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 46

46: Festival Rituals Must Be Observed

Tian Qingyi responded without hesitation: “Your health comes first. We can always visit Qinglong Town another time.”

For Tian Qingyi, whether they went to Qinglong Town during the Ghost Festival wasn’t important. What mattered was whether Yun Jingchu could go with her. If Yun Jingchu couldn’t go, she wouldn’t go either—her whole reason for wanting to travel was her concern that Yun Jingchu might be bored staying only in the rear courtyard.

“Mmm…” Yun Jingchu was drowsy, her eyes nearly closed, when lunch arrived from the kitchen. Following the doctor’s orders, Qingyu had specifically instructed the kitchen to prepare meat porridge. But when Yuanqi brought it over, Yun Jingchu had no appetite at all. She turned her head away, wanting to lean against Tian Qingyi and continue sleeping.

Frowning, Tian Qingyi steeled herself and gently propped Yun Jingchu upright. Under Yun Jingchu’s confused, almost indignant gaze, she took the bowl of porridge from Yuanqi’s tray and sat by the bed, coaxing softly, “Sitting up makes it easier to eat. They say if you can eat, you’re close to recovery. If you won’t even eat, just relying on medicine will make getting better take forever. So, how about just a little, okay?”

Already exhausted, Yun Jingchu refused to listen this time. She glared at Tian Qingyi, then deliberately lay back down, turning her back as if to say she wouldn’t eat.

Yuanqi, who had expected the Second Young Master to succeed in persuading her, widened her eyes in surprise. Clearly, she hadn’t anticipated failure. But as a servant, she couldn’t say anything. The awkward atmosphere made her bow her head even lower, afraid of being dragged into it.

Wanting to signal Yuanqi to leave, Tian Qingyi glanced over only to find her staring fixedly at the ground, lost in thought. She had no choice but to say aloud, “You may leave.”

“Yes, your servant withdraws.” Eager to avoid trouble, Yuanqi left quickly, soon disappearing from sight—and closing the door behind her.

Hearing the movement, Yun Jingchu knew they were now alone. She felt both anticipation and curiosity—anticipation for Tian Qingyi to coax her, and curiosity about what she would do next.

In the past, Yun Jingchu hadn’t been like this when ill. She took medicine and meals on time without needing persuasion, let alone coaxing. But this cold was different. This time, the partner she had chosen was by her side, and so she acted this way.

Once sure they were alone, Tian Qingyi set down the porridge and smiled fondly at Yun Jingchu’s back. Before her first relationship, she might have tried persuading twice more. If that failed, she would have assumed Yun Jingchu truly didn’t want to eat and given up.

But she had been in love before. Her first partner had often said one thing while meaning another—like when her birthday approached, and Tian Qingyi asked what she wanted. After thinking, she said just having dinner together would be enough. Tian Qingyi asked twice more, but the answer remained the same, so she took her out for a meal—only for her to be angry the next day. At first, Tian Qingyi didn’t understand why.

It wasn’t until she painstakingly smoothed things over that her partner admitted she had still wanted a birthday gift—even something handmade, even worthless, as long as it was from the heart. The reason she hadn’t said so outright? Her upbringing emphasized restraint.

Tian Qingyi, being more straightforward, preferred direct communication. Their clashes led to repeated breakups until they finally parted for good. On the surface, it was because neither would compromise to move cities. At its core, they were simply incompatible.

Her ex had actually been a good match, or they wouldn’t have lasted so long. Looking back on her two failed relationships, Tian Qingyi felt she bore some responsibility—but not all. After all, relationships always involved two people.

If asked whether she regretted meeting either of them, her answer would be no. Because when she thought about it, she had truly loved them once and shared beautiful memories with them. Though those times now felt like another lifetime, those experiences had shaped her.

They taught her to cherish the present, to understand that relationships—especially love—required careful nurturing.

Suspecting Yun Jingchu might be saying the opposite of what she meant, Tian Qingyi tentatively tugged at Yun Jingchu’s hand resting on her waist—only to have it pulled away. Undeterred, she tried again and again until, on the third attempt, Yun Jingchu let her. Then, carefully, she added her other hand and gently pulled Yun Jingchu into her arms.

Nestled together, their heads resting on each other’s shoulders, they couldn’t have been closer. Though she couldn’t see Yun Jingchu’s face, Tian Qingyi could smell her scent and feel her body heat—noticeably higher than usual, which worried her even more.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling really unwell? Should we call a better doctor?”

“No need. It’s just a cold—I can bear it. I just have no appetite. Can I skip the porridge?” Yun Jingchu tightened her arms around Tian Qingyi’s waist, pleased with the response.

“Well… no. If you eat the porridge, I’ll promise you anything.” Faced with a sick and sulking Yun Jingchu, Tian Qingyi nearly caved. But a shred of reason made her pivot—though what followed seemed barely thought through.

“Then no more vegetables at meals.” Yun Jingchu seized the opportunity, afraid Tian Qingyi might change her mind. Though she knew Tian Qingyi served her greens for her health, she truly loved meat.

Tian Qingyi fell silent. When no answer came, Yun Jingchu pulled away—only to see her hesitating. Panicked, Yun Jingchu pressed, “‘A gentleman’s word is unalterable.’ If you go back on your promise, I’ll never trust you again!”

“Of course… I keep my word.” Stunned by the demand, Tian Qingyi instantly regretted her carelessness, wishing she could slap her past self.

Her silence had been spent scrambling for an excuse to weasel out. But Yun Jingchu’s scrutiny—as if she’d be blacklisted for reneging—left her no choice but to agree.

Delighted, Yun Jingchu smiled, hugged Tian Qingyi, and—without prompting—picked up the bowl and started eating.

Tian Qingyi, about to return the embrace, found herself abruptly abandoned. Watching Yun Jingchu actually eat, she could only laugh helplessly.

After Yun Jingchu fell asleep, Tian Qingyi tiptoed out to the side hall for lunch. Midway through, she suddenly mused aloud, “Are vegetables really that bad?”

Qingyu, standing thoughtfully nearby, didn’t answer—since the question wasn’t directed at her. Privately, she thought: If even the kitchen’s vegetables are unpalatable, then barely any place in Huating County serves decent greens.

This wasn’t exaggeration. Within the yamen, apart from their retinue from Kaifeng, only the kitchen chef had been hired at great expense—because the original cook’s dishes were so awful that Tian Qingyi couldn’t stomach them. Wei Shier had been sent to a neighboring county to poach a skilled cook, demoting the old one to assistant.

Tian Qingyi, not expecting an answer, kept eating. Unlike Yun Jingchu, she wasn’t obsessed with meat, but she still needed it at every meal—alongside vegetables.

If Yun Jingchu disliked being served greens, she simply wouldn’t do it anymore. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t mention them. What a brilliant idea, she thought, her appetite suddenly improving. After eating, she instructed Qingyu to stop using ice, fearing it might worsen Yun Jingchu’s condition.

Yun Jingchu’s illness lasted three days, eating up two of the three-day Ghost Festival holiday. Tian Qingyi stayed by her side almost constantly, taking over many of Yuanqi’s tasks—fetching water, coaxing her to take medicine and eat.

When Yun Jingchu was neither sleepy nor inclined to move, Tian Qingyi read her favorite miscellany aloud. If Yun Jingchu tired of listening, they chatted idly—about the weather, history, romance—anything and everything.

With one holiday day left, Yun Jingchu recovered. After washing up and skipping breakfast, Tian Qingyi dragged her out shopping. Like last time, they went without attendants.

Tian Qingyi had assumed the streets would be quiet post-festival, but she was wrong. Vendors still sold seasonal fruits, pastries, and ritual items like paper clothes for ancestral offerings, glutinous rice, hemp bundles, and cockscombs. Copies of The Ullambana Sutra—essential for the festival—were everywhere.

They shopped as they walked, their arms full by the time they reached a restaurant for breakfast. Over the meal, they listened to a storyteller recite The Ullambana Sutra again.

Hearing it once more, Yun Jingchu thought of her grandmother and mother. Worried that delaying household rites might condemn them to suffering in the afterlife, she grabbed Tian Qingyi’s hand the moment she set down her chopsticks, eager to leave.

Happy to be led, Tian Qingyi hadn’t realized Yun Jingchu took ancestral worship so seriously. She’d planned to shop leisurely until afternoon, but now they had to hurry. Since they needed many items, they rented a donkey cart after leaving the restaurant.

During the festival, Yun Jingchu had wanted Tian Qingyi to handle the rites, but Tian Qingyi refused, citing her caregiving duties. Assigning Qingyu felt insincere—this was her first time personally honoring her grandmother and mother during the Ghost Festival.

Remembering that rites could be performed anytime in July, she relented, yielding to Tian Qingyi’s wishes. Fortunately, her recovery coincided with the festival’s tail end.

To Yun Jingchu, the Ghost Festival was vital. But Tian Qingyi had only known it as a non-holiday “Ghost Day”—her parents handled the rituals while she waited to eat. So she hadn’t considered it important.

Seeing the bustling festival atmosphere today, she realized how different it was here. In the Northern Song, the holiday meant three days off (no make-up work!), Buddhist Ullambana ceremonies, and elaborate family rites—even commoners followed strict rituals. In short: festival rituals must be observed.