Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 77

77: Intolerant of the Smallest Flaw

Tian Qingyi hadn’t expected Yun Jingchu to ask this, but she answered reflexively: “I only have my cycle once every three months. When it came before, we might not have been together, so it’s normal you didn’t notice.”

When she first transmigrated, a flood of urgent matters had pushed menstrual concerns aside. Only after over a month without her period did she realize something was amiss. Checking the original host’s memories, she learned the body only menstruated quarterly.

She’d heard of such cases before but never imagined experiencing it herself. The joy she’d felt then nearly rivaled discovering unexpected wealth.

In modern times with sanitary pads, monthly periods were manageable. But here in antiquity, with poor hygiene and no proper menstrual products, a quarterly cycle was ideal—both for her disguise and health. No wonder the former chief had chosen the original host for this male disguise.

Yun Jingchu’s eyes widened in shock. It took her a long moment to find her voice. Gripping Tian Qingyi’s hand, she asked uncertainly, “Once every three months? Could there be something wrong with your health?”

Having lost her mother young, Yun Jingchu’s knowledge of menstruation came mostly from Nurse Wu. Her only private discussions had been with Baoqin. Yet whether from Nurse Wu, Baoqin, or herself, the understanding was always that women bled monthly.

A quarterly cycle was unheard of. Her shock quickly turned to concern for Tian Qingyi’s wellbeing.

“Don’t worry. Mother consulted a physician who confirmed it’s normal—just rare, so few know about it.” Tian Qingyi patted Yun Jingchu’s hand reassuringly, her gaze tender.

The original host hadn’t cared much about such matters—as long as there was no pain, it wasn’t an issue. Thus, she’d never discussed it with Fan Zhuzhu. But from memories, Tian Qingyi guessed Fan Zhuzhu must have known.

Initially, Fan Zhuzhu prepared normal quantities of menstrual clothes. Later, likely noticing irregularities and investigating privately, she reduced the amount by two-thirds.

Tian Qingyi wasn’t lying about the physician—Qingyu had examined her and confirmed the cycle was natural. After Qingyu joined her, body maintenance and menstrual preparations became her responsibility.

Since Qingyu’s role was hard to explain, the original host had claimed growing up meant making her own clothes. Yet while skilled in most areas, needlework eluded her—hence delegating to Qingyu.

“That’s good then. Health is paramount. Since Mother-in-law and I can’t always be with you, you must take care.” Yun Jingchu’s focus then shifted unexpectedly. “Who prepares your menstrual supplies now?”

“First mother… later Qingyu.” Though the question surprised her, Tian Qingyi answered honestly despite anticipating Yun Jingchu’s displeasure.

As the words landed, Yun Jingchu immediately withdrew her hand and turned away, displeasure written across her face. Standing abruptly, she crossed her arms. “One might think she’s your wife instead.”

“A’Dan, words are like food—careless ones bring trouble! Qingyu and I share only a master-servant bond, nothing more! You’re the only one in my heart, my only wife.” Panicking, Tian Qingyi leapt barefoot from bed to embrace Yun Jingchu from behind, fearing anger might harm her health.

“Better be true. You know me—in matters of love, I tolerate no flaws. If you ever betray me…” Yun Jingchu gazed distantly at the peony-painted screen, voice trailing ominously. Unlike usual, she didn’t cover Tian Qingyi’s hands with her own.

Should Tian Qingyi betray her, she truly didn’t know what she might do. Like a wild horse still bridled, once unleashed, consequences were unforeseeable.

“If that day comes, spare your hands—I’ll punish myself. But while I mean no harm, others might. Should accusations arise, please grant me a chance to explain.” Moving to face Yun Jingchu, Tian Qingyi spoke solemnly, eyes pleading.

Having endured two failed relationships where she was the one left behind, Tian Qingyi secretly feared abandonment. Yet seeing Yun Jingchu share similar worries oddly reassured her—because she knew with certainty Yun Jingchu would always be her first choice.

When Tian Qingyi moved to embrace her properly, Yun Jingchu noticed her bare feet and stopped her. “These are stone floors, not wood! At your most vulnerable time, how could you step down unshod?”

Seeing Yun Jingchu’s temper flare again, Tian Qingyi scrambled back to bed, promising meekly, “It was just the moment’s urgency. Won’t happen again.”

Yun Jingchu eyed the suddenly docile Tian Qingyi with mingled exasperation and amusement. Before she could respond, Qingyu returned with the ginger-brown sugar water. Sensing tension, Qingyu set the bowl down and turned to leave—only for Yun Jingchu to request hot water instead.

Though puzzled—Tian Qingyi had already washed and soaked her feet—Qingyu dared not question and hurried out.

Tasting the drink, Yun Jingchu found it pleasantly warm and handed it over. She considered offering to prepare Tian Qingyi’s menstrual supplies herself—until remembering her own were handled by Baoqin and Yuanqi.

Unlike needlework-averse Tian Qingyi, Yun Jingchu was skilled—she simply disliked it unless necessary. For Tian Qingyi, she’d make an exception—except their separations would continue. Better maintain existing arrangements than establish unsustainable new ones.

“Qingyu likely knows more about you than I do. Are you certain she won’t betray you?” Yun Jingchu voiced another concern—Qingyu’s extensive knowledge posed risks. A betrayal could destroy them utterly.

Downing the sweetened ginger water, Tian Qingyi smiled confidently. “Certain. The consequences would be unbearable for her.” Her faith lay in the original host’s indoctrination and future “carrots” she dangled.

Qingyu, Ruoshui, Shi Wan, and Shi Qian were all carefully selected and trained by the original host. Years of proven loyalty spoke volumes. Human nature being fallible, Tian Qingyi avoided tests—but clear rewards and punishments ensured compliance. Offering them commoner status wasn’t empty promises but tangible future benefits requiring only time.

Crucially, all four were orphaned non-locals, sold multiple times before acquisition—eliminating family-based coercion risks.

Reassured by Tian Qingyi’s certainty, Yun Jingchu set the bowl aside. Survival instinct made betrayal unlikely anyway. The specifics of Qingyu’s control didn’t interest her.

During Jiufang Xin’s encoffining ceremony, Tian Qingyi reappeared publicly after two days’ rest, eyes red-rimmed and complexion noticeably paler—silencing would-be gossipers.

Xun Chang, recently detained by the Imperial City Department, had learned of Tian Qingyi’s double bereavement from Provincial Graduate Xu. Arriving early for the rites, he met privately with Tian Qingyi afterward. Intending comfort, he ended up receiving it instead, leaving with only repeated “accept my condolences.”

Tian Qingyi wasn’t surprised by his visit. Advising him to focus on official vacancies, she downplayed her own situation. Later, alone, Xun—who’d barely known Jiufang Qiyu or Jiufang Xin—shed tears. He’d come to console, only to be consoled—how could he not grieve?

Many words went unspoken that day, reserved for another time.

After Jiufang Qiyu’s encoffining, Tian Qingyi’s fellow graduates in Kaifeng had paid condolences. Now for Jiufang Xin, they returned with Provincial Graduate Xu shortly after Xun. Grief-stricken, Tian Qingyi forced herself to acknowledge each.

Beyond her peers came other officials—mostly low-ranking. The sole fifth-rank visitor was an old friend of Jiufang Xin’s who offered incense and gifts.

Notably absent was Chancellor Wang—Jiufang Xin’s frequent boast—who sent no representative either. Perhaps relations were severed. Just as well—post-mourning appointments would avoid Wang’s faction.

Yet reality proved otherwise. The next day, Chancellor Wang arrived bearing an imperial edict praising Jiufang Xin’s contributions and granting posthumous honors: monetary rewards, two clan youth and a retainer’s son appointed as Junior Military Officers, and an exceptional two-rank promotion for Tian Qingyi.

Assuming separation from Wang’s faction, Tian Qingyi accepted the honors with performative grief. Mistaking this for filial devotion, Wang comforted her before departing satisfied.

That night, exhausted Tian Qingyi was summoned by a retainer—He Fang, whose son had been appointed that day. Despite fatigue, she received him.

Jiufang Xin’s retinue had once numbered nearly twenty, dwindling to two after retirement: Zhang Sancheng and elderly He Fang. While familiar in passing, Tian Qingyi had rarely spoken with He privately. His son’s appointment wasn’t surprising—but a midnight visit was.

The gray-haired man prostrated immediately. Tian Qingyi had Wei Shier raise him up. “Uncle He, speak plainly—no need for such formality.”

From his robe, he produced a letter. “The master left this for you, Second Young Master. He instructed it be delivered only after Chancellor Wang’s visit—hence my untimely intrusion. Please forgive me.”

Wei Shier inspected the letter briefly before presenting it to Tian Qingyi.

Examining the handwriting and seal—both Jiufang Xin’s—Tian Qingyi opened it.