Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 75

75: Exactly What I Was Afraid Would Happen

Early the next morning, Tian Qingyi sent Qingyu out on an errand, and she didn’t return until dusk.

After hurriedly finishing dinner, Tian Qingyi excused herself to change clothes and returned to Yuzhu Residence. When she entered the study and didn’t see Qingyu, she immediately instructed Wei Shier to summon her.

Qingyu arrived shortly after. Once Tian Qingyi dismissed Wei Shier, Qingyu began relaying the information she had gathered that day.

On the surface, Tian Qingyi had sent Qingyu to purchase supplies, but in reality, she had tasked her with gathering the latest news from teahouses, taverns, and Shi Qian. Tian Qingyi had a strong suspicion that Ma Zhusege wouldn’t appear in Kaifeng without reason—let alone risk coming alone just to test her.

If it had been the original host, she might not have questioned it, assuming it was a sign of the chief’s regard or that the gifts she’d sent over the years had finally caught her “teacher’s” attention. She might even have been overjoyed.

Since Tian Qingyi hadn’t specified what kind of information to gather, Qingyu had covered all bases, resulting in a mix of important and trivial news. To avoid drawing attention, she summarized the key points concisely, moving on unless Tian Qingyi asked for details.

As Qingyu continued, Tian Qingyi finally heard what she had been waiting for: the Imperial City Department had recently captured a Liao spy. Rumor had it the spy knew a great deal, but despite days of interrogation, the Imperial City Department had extracted nothing useful. Strangely, the spy had then died in his cell.

Given how aggressively the Imperial City Department had been investigating lately, news of the captured spy had spread widely in Kaifeng. However, accounts of how and where he had been caught varied wildly. Tian Qingyi listened to two versions but found neither credible, so she didn’t press further.

The Imperial City Department was the emperor’s lackey—catching a spy wasn’t unusual. What was strange was that even their ruthless methods had failed to extract information. The Liao spy must have been exceptionally tough. Ma Zhusege’s appearance was likely connected to him—otherwise, the timing would be far too coincidental.

Additionally, Shi Wan and Ruoshui had finally sent word. The letter was brief, stating only that they were on their way back. Qingyu didn’t know where they had set out from, so she couldn’t estimate their arrival time.

The news Tian Qingyi had been anxiously awaiting had finally arrived, lifting a weight from her heart. If they were already on the road and able to send word, they would likely reach Kaifeng in about a month.

The more she thought about it, the happier she became, as if freedom were waving at her from just ahead. At this moment, she longed to see Yun Jingchu—even if she couldn’t share her joy, just gazing at her beloved would be enough.

“Tell Shi Qian to inform me the moment they return—without delay. Also, from now on, report any significant events in Kaifeng, especially those involving the court to me immediately,” Tian Qingyi instructed before rising to leave. She was going to see Yun Jingchu.

Had she not been so swamped lately, she might have learned this news sooner. She didn’t blame Qingyu, who had been busy assisting Yun Jingchu, but she couldn’t afford to repeat the oversight. Her emphasis was as much a reminder to herself as to Qingyu.

“Understood. This servant will remember,” Qingyu replied, inwardly chastising herself. Previously, she had met Shi Qian every half-month, but now it was clear that the interval was too long.

Tian Qingyi found Yun Jingchu in the mourning hall, clad in mourning robes, speaking with Taoist priests and Buddhist monks before the memorial tablet. When Yun Jingchu spotted her, she beckoned her over.

Confused, Tian Qingyi hurried to her side. After exchanging greetings, Yun Jingchu whispered in her ear, “They’re asking if we want to add more rituals. If so, it’ll cost extra.”

Considering the already exorbitant daily expenses—especially on food—plus miscellaneous costs, Yun Jingchu spent half an hour each day reviewing accounts, even after the bookkeepers had done their part.

The Jiufang family had some savings, but not enough to cover the current expenditures until Jiufang Qiyu’s burial. Even with the money Tian Qingyi had saved over the past two years, they’d still fall short. Yun Jingchu had offered to make up the difference, but Tian Qingyi refused, opting instead to sell land.

Then, as if heaven-sent, Li Yan—whether she’d heard rumors or simply knew the family’s finances—had sent five hundred strings of cash to the accounts under the pretext of “honoring her late husband and fulfilling her daughterly duties.”

Combined with the gifts from mourners, they could manage if they economized. Yet the monks and priests kept proposing additional rituals, which would add up over time. Tian Qingyi decided she’d have to speak with Steward Liu later—some matters weren’t appropriate for them to handle directly.

Though Yun Jinghu had whispered, and there were no outside mourners present, Jiufang Lai and others nearby were straining to eavesdrop. Since they’d already spent so much, skimping now would be counterproductive.

“Then add them,” Tian Qingyi said through gritted teeth, committing to the charade. Jiufang Lai and the others nodded approvingly.

Tian Qingyi ignored their reactions. After offering incense to Jiufang Qiyu, she knelt by the brazier to burn paper offerings. The younger family members who had been tending the fire hastily made room for her.

Adding rituals wasn’t just about money—it also meant more physical strain. With rituals held morning, noon, and night, Tian Qingyi’s generation and the one below had to kneel incessantly, adding to their exhaustion.

By the time Tian Qingyi and Yun Jingchu limped back to Yuzhu Residence in the dead of night, they were both exhausted and starving. Though the kitchen had prepared vegetarian midnight snacks, after over ten days of meatless meals, Tian Qingyi’s appetite was nonexistent. She picked at her food before giving up.

Before parting, Yun Jingchu tugged Tian Qingyi’s hand—their secret signal to meet later. Despite her fatigue, the thought of sharing a bed with Yun Jingchu tonight filled Tian Qingyi with excitement. After a quick wash, she sneaked into the main quarters.

But Yun Jingchu’s surprise wasn’t what she expected—it was an unexpected delight: a tightly wrapped roast chicken. The moment the lotus leaf unfolded, Tian Qingyi’s eyes lit up, her nose filled with the most heavenly aroma. Overcome, she kissed Yun Jingchu repeatedly.

Fortunately, no one else was around—otherwise, the sight of their usually composed Second Young Master acting so wildly would have shocked onlookers.

Yun Jingchu, delighted by Tian Qingyi’s rare display of joy, smiled. She had schemed for days to procure this chicken, and the satisfaction surpassed even the thrill of a lucrative business deal.

It wasn’t just for Tian Qingyi either. If even Tian Qingyi—who usually preferred vegetarian fare—craved meat this badly, Yun Jingchu, a devoted carnivore, had suffered even more. Only caution had kept her waiting this long.

During her mourning for Yun Changliang, Yun Jingchu’s standing in the Yun family had been far shakier than in Yuzhu Residence. The first year, she’d only managed occasional meaty treats outside; the second year, after securing a reliable source, had been easier.

“If you keep kissing me, there’ll be no time for supper,” Yun Jingchu teased, kissing her back before pulling her down to sit. Knowing Tian Qingyi loved chicken wings, Yun Jingchu deftly tore one off and placed it on the lotus leaf before her. “Eat. The next chance won’t be for five days.”

Tian Qingyi, though slower, reciprocated by serving Yun Jingchu her favorite drumstick. They shared a smile.

Alongside the chicken, Yun Jingchu had prepared Tian Qingyi’s favorite chilled drinks. After eating their fill, they rinsed their mouths, washed their hands and faces, and went to bed content.

The next morning, before dawn, a loud rooster’s crow—so exaggerated it sounded human—woke Tian Qingyi. Still groggy, she was nudged fully awake by Yun Jingchu and hastily dressed before sneaking back to the study.

Their coordination was seamless, suggesting this wasn’t their first such escapade.

Before Qingyu’s feared scenario could materialize, Tian Qingyi’s own worries came true. While kneeling in the mourning hall during the midday rituals, Steward Liu’s son, Liu Dalang, came rushing in, shouting, “Second Young Master! The master—he’s dying…!” His voice carried, ensuring everyone heard.

Tian Qingyi had worried about Jiufang Xin’s ill-timed death—and now, just as feared, Jiufang Qiyu’s funeral wasn’t even over before they faced another. There was no respite, especially with her own “special time” due in days. The collision of events left her utterly overwhelmed.

No actor by trade, and certain she couldn’t convincingly portray ancient filial grief, Tian Qingyi took a risk. Trembling, she leaned on Yun Jingchu to stand, then asked Liu Dalang in a choked voice, “W-what did you say?”

“The master is dying! The concubine says to come quickly!” Liu Dalang repeated, louder still. Steward Liu, rushing in from outside, paled at his son’s booming announcement.

As Liu Dalang finished, Tian Qingyi’s face grew increasingly ashen. Before Yun Jingchu could call her name twice, her eyes rolled back, and she fainted.

“What sin has our family committed to deserve heaven’s punishment?!” Jiufang Lai, devastated by the successive deaths of Jiufang Qiyu and Jiufang Xin—and now Tian Qingyi’s collapse—lashed out at the heavens.

Other clan members joined in, some blaming fate, others turning on each other. Accusations grew heated, revealing numerous past misdeeds—minor individually, but damning in aggregate.

Yun Jingchu, initially composed, was thrown into panic by Tian Qingyi’s faint. In her distress, she tried to carry Tian Qingyi back but found her too tall and heavy. Considering the impropriety of having Yuanqi help, she settled for ordering Wei Shier to fetch a stretcher.

Her anxiety only eased when the unconscious Tian Qingyi subtly pinched her leg—revealing the faint was feigned. Relieved but maintaining a grave expression, Yun Jingchu finally noticed the chaos around her.

The rituals continued, with Zhou Ba and others standing guard. The Jiufang family was in disarray, some even cursing heaven, while Liu Dalang was being scolded by Steward Liu at the door—though his thick skin seemed unfazed.

Fortunately, few outside mourners remained, sparing the family further disgrace. Had they witnessed this spectacle, rumors would have spread like wildfire. Were these people not Tian Qingyi’s relatives, Yun Jingchu wouldn’t have spared them a glance.

When the stretcher arrived, Yun Jingchu, unwilling to let others handle Tian Qingyi, helped Yuanqi lift her onto it. As they prepared to leave, Jiufang Lai and the others abandoned their quarrels to follow, anxious their “good fortune” might slip away.