Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 49

49: A Sentimental Farewell at the Long Pavilion

As time passed day by day, the Mid-Autumn Festival drew nearer. It should have been a joyous occasion, yet Tian Qingyi’s face showed no trace of happiness. There wasn’t even a hint of anticipation in her heart—instead, she wished time would slow down, even just a little.

Though it felt as if they had been together for a long time, in reality, less than two months had passed. This was supposed to be the sweetest phase of their relationship, where they longed to be inseparable every moment. Yet now, after the Mid-Autumn Festival, they would have to part. With the festival looming so close, how could Tian Qingyi feel happy? How could she not feel sorrow?

Occasionally, when her emotions overwhelmed her, Tian Qingyi even entertained the thought of forcing Yun Jingchu to stay. But the moment such an idea crossed her mind, she wanted to slap herself, even feeling deep self-disgust. She considered herself utterly selfish for thinking that way. So whenever such thoughts arose afterward, she would immediately catch herself and mercilessly berate herself in her heart.

No matter how much she loved Yun Jingchu, she couldn’t use love as an excuse to bind her. Love should mean support, giving, and encouragement—not betrayal, demands, or belittlement. Moreover, Yun Jingchu was an independent person. She had the right to pursue her dreams and the freedom to do whatever she wished. Tian Qingyi couldn’t selfishly clip her wings, then manipulate her with claims of love and insist it was for her own good, expecting gratitude in return. Was that even love? More like outright toxicity!

So even though her heart ached with reluctance and unhappiness, Tian Qingyi kept it all bottled inside. She knew right from wrong. No matter how much she wanted something, if it was wrong, she wouldn’t act on it.

Once back in the rear courtyard, Tian Qingyi behaved as usual—eating, laughing—never showing any sign of distress in front of Yun Jingchu. However, those outside the courtyard—Wei Shier, Zhang Sancheng, Zhou Ba, and the clerks—had no choice but to bear the brunt of her foul mood. They worked more carefully than usual, afraid of incurring the displeasure of the clearly irritable magistrate.

Tian Qingyi’s bad mood was obvious to all. Zhang Sancheng and the others assumed it was just a lovers’ quarrel and didn’t think much of it. The clerks shared the same impression—after all, ever since the magistrate’s wife arrived in Huating County, Magistrate Jiufang had never been in a bad mood.

Though Tian Qingyi appeared normal on the surface, Yun Jingchu, as her closest companion, could faintly sense her recent unhappiness. They hadn’t quarreled, and Kaifeng remained unchanged—so the only explanation was that Tian Qingyi was upset about her impending departure.

If that was the case, Yun Jingchu had no solution. Her decision to leave had been made after careful consideration, and nothing—neither her own reluctance nor Tian Qingyi’s—could change the fact that she was going to Hangzhou for business.

Both of them currently enjoyed wealth and status thanks to their elders, especially Tian Qingyi, whose position was fraught with uncertainty. Their prosperity seemed as fragile as flowers in a mirror or the moon’s reflection in water—one misstep, and they could lose everything.

If the worst came to pass, they wouldn’t just face public scorn—they might also be stripped of their assets and titles, or even imprisoned. Though the current emperor was merciful, Tian Qingyi would likely escape death but not punishment. Then there would be the costs of bribing officials and arranging her release—none of which came cheap.

Even if she overestimated the Yun family’s decency—assuming they wouldn’t kick them while they were down—they would at least demand Yun Jingchu and her dowry back. Even if Yun Jingchu refused, the dowry would likely be forfeited.

The Jiufang family wouldn’t be much better. If Jiufang Xin were still alive, even Fan Zhuzhu wouldn’t spare them. If he were gone, given Jiufang Qiyu’s disdain for them, their fate would be even worse. Expecting financial support from the Jiufang family? Out of the question.

Though they could handle basic tasks like bathing and dressing themselves, at their core, neither of them knew the first thing about hard labor. Fan Zhuzhu, who had lived a pampered life, was even worse—the only skill she hadn’t neglected was embroidery.

Compared to Tian Qingyi, who was all books and no brawn, Yun Jingchu wasn’t much better. Though she had endured hardships as a child, with her stepmother Yuan skimping on her food and clothing, she had never gone entirely without. The quality and quantity were just poor. So forget farming—she couldn’t even do laundry or cook.

If it came down to just the three of them and Baoqin struggling to survive, without money or influence, each day would feel like a year—if they could even stay alive.

Baoqin was technically a maid, but as Yun Jingchu’s personal attendant, her main duties were serving her. She only occasionally helped with sewing, laundry, or cleaning—farming and cooking were entirely beyond her.

Of course, Tian Qingyi and Yun Jingchu could learn, but the greater fear was that the vast Song Dynasty might not even give them the chance. As for leaving the Song? Yun Jingchu never even considered it.

So to avoid the worst-case scenario—whether for herself, her childhood dreams, or their future—she had to go to Hangzhou for business. Even if the start was rocky, even if she failed, it didn’t matter. They had enough capital to try.

Though her decision to leave was final, that didn’t mean she couldn’t make it up to Tian Qingyi in other ways.

No matter how much Tian Qingyi dreaded it, the Mid-Autumn Festival arrived on schedule. While others celebrated by climbing towers, feasting by the water, hosting lavish banquets, and enjoying music and moonlit revelries all night, she and Yun Jingchu declined all invitations and spent the entire day secluded in the rear courtyard. In the morning, they read miscellaneous books together; at noon, they rested; in the afternoon, they played chess; and after dinner, they admired the moon at Cuiguang Pavilion and even performed a duet.

Tian Qingyi played the flute as usual, while Yun Jingchu played the zither. At first, Yun Jingchu suggested performing The Longing Across Time, but fearing the song might spread, Tian Qingyi declined, claiming it was still unfinished and needed revision. Instead, she proposed a popular, easy-to-play contemporary piece.

Thanks to her earlier musical exchanges with Xun Chang on the boat, she had learned a simple, trendy tune—otherwise, she would have embarrassed herself that day. She didn’t fear looking foolish, but she didn’t want to dampen Yun Jingchu’s spirits. After all, since their marriage, she had never seen Yun Jingchu play the zither, let alone perform a duet with her.

After the Ghost Festival, Yun Jingchu had often been out, but for the past two days, she hadn’t left once. During the Mid-Autumn Festival, she even deliberately spent the entire day at home with Tian Qingyi, which delighted her. Even knowing it was a farewell gesture, Tian Qingyi still cherished the moment.

The next day, when it was time to part, Tian Qingyi escorted her all the way to the Long Pavilion and still didn’t want to stop. But Yun Jingchu refused to let her go any further. They bid farewell at the pavilion, while their attendants and guards stood at a distance, ensuring passersby didn’t linger.

“No matter how far you escort me, we must part eventually. There’s official business awaiting you at the county office—let’s stop here today.” Seeing Tian Qingyi’s despondent expression, Yun Jingchu felt equally pained, but she hardened her heart and spoke firmly.

Didn’t she also hate being apart from Tian Qingyi? Didn’t she also wish they could stay entwined forever? Of course she did. But life had to go on. For the sake of their long-term future, she told herself not to dwell on this temporary separation.

Tian Qingyi stared at Yun Jingchu for a long moment before finally nodding reluctantly. “Fine. But I hope A’Dan keeps her word and returns as promised.”

“You be the steadfast rock; I’ll be the clinging vine. The vine may be tough as silk, but the rock shall never move.” Yun Jingchu spoke with solemn conviction, as if swearing an oath. Though the words were borrowed, she felt they perfectly captured her feelings in this moment.

“The rock shall never move. I only hope the vine, in her journey, will spare a thought or two for the rock.” Heartened by her words, Tian Qingyi also expressed her feelings earnestly. Though she asked Yun Jingchu to remember her, it was she who had already begun missing her before they even parted—as if deliberately emphasizing that she would be the one thinking of the other.

“I will. Then I’ll take my leave now. See you in winter.” After saying this, Yun Jingchu bowed formally, then quickly left the pavilion and boarded the carriage.

Tian Qingyi, who had returned the bow, desperately wanted to escort her to the carriage but ultimately restrained herself. She watched Yun Jingchu’s entourage grow smaller in the distance until they vanished from sight, then turned her gaze to Zhou Ba, who had been waiting outside the pavilion.

Zhou Ba, instructed by Wei Shier to stay behind, hurried forward and bowed when he saw Tian Qingyi looking at him. “What are your orders, Second Young Master?”

Yun Jingchu planned to take only the twelve people she had brought from Kaifeng to Hangzhou for business. Tian Qingyi, uneasy about this, initially wanted to send Qingyu along for protection. But Qingyu wasn’t skilled in martial arts, and Tian Qingyi also needed her for private matters. The rear courtyard also required trustworthy management. After much deliberation, she finally settled on sending Zhou Ba.

This time, Zhou Ba didn’t refuse. Instead, he eagerly agreed, even thumping his chest and vowing to protect Yun Jingchu during the journey. Pleased, Tian Qingyi rewarded him with a string of coins for wine.

But Yun Jingchu objected. Given Tian Qingyi’s ongoing conflict with the Pu family, she would worry even more if Tian Qingyi lacked capable protectors. At first, no amount of persuasion could change her mind.

Only after Tian Qingyi explained that she had trained in martial arts—though she had neglected it due to her busy schedule, leading to her earlier defeat by two servants—did Yun Jingchu relent. Since that humiliating incident, Tian Qingyi had resumed training daily for half an hour and was confident she could now hold her own against those same servants.

After repeatedly promising to always bring guards when going out, Yun Jingchu finally acquiesced—though she still wasn’t entirely at ease and took extra care to instruct Qingyu and Wei Shier to look after Tian Qingyi.

Wu Xiaoliu’s leg had healed, but as the doctor predicted, he was now lame. Since Yun Jingchu had specifically chosen him for a purpose, he was still taken to Hangzhou as originally planned.

For the trip, Yun Jingchu rented two carriages to the nearest dock—one for passengers, one for luggage. Considering Wu Xiaoliu’s condition, she allowed him to ride in the cargo carriage.

Though she and Zhou Ba had had their differences in the past, those were now behind them. She trusted his ability and character. “Yongnian is going to Hangzhou for business. Your duty is to protect her—so her safety comes first in all matters. Follow her lead; don’t act on your own.” Tian Qingyi still had to make things clear. Zhou Ba was being sent as a bodyguard, not a spy.

“Understood. This humble servant will remember.” Zhou Ba replied gravely, not daring to take the task lightly. He had seen firsthand how much the Second Young Master valued his wife. If anything happened to her, he wouldn’t fare well upon his return either.

Before he left, Tian Qingyi added one last instruction: “If you encounter a major decision you can’t resolve, send a letter back immediately. Go now.”

“Yes. Take care, Second Young Master. This servant takes his leave.” Only then did Zhou Ba bow and depart. Armed with nothing but his legs and a bladed weapon on his waist, his speed was undiminished—he disappeared from sight in no time, his strides impressively swift.