Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 82

82: Had Her Daughter’s Fortune Told

En route to Yun Jingchu, Tian Qingyi wrestled with Dongxue’s dilemma. Full disclosure was impossible, yet without a plausible explanation, adoption seemed unlikely.

Since Ruoshui’s return with Dongxue, she’d brainstormed countless justifications. Yet facing Yun Jingchu’s clear gaze, every fabricated excuse dissolved—not from poor construction, but from an inability to lie to her beloved.

Finding Yun Jingchu changing clothes, Tian Qingyi’s urgent arrival suggested grave matters. Yet after several false starts, Yun Jingchu—assuming privacy concerns—dismissed attendants upon finishing.

A glance summoned Tian Qingyi as Yun Jingchu moved to the heated platform, hugging her warming pan. Despite minimal outdoor exposure between carriage and shops, the cold pierced deeply.

Noticing the steaming Tianxiang soup (a famed Kaifeng winter beverage) on the table, Tian Qingyi eagerly brought it over. With Yun Jingchu’s hands occupied, she spoon-fed her naturally—an established ritual.

Yun Jingchu adored this cold-dispelling drink, consuming one to three bowls daily. Initially indifferent, Tian Qingyi had grown fond through proximity—though limiting herself to one serving.

Northern Song’s winter beverages rivalled summer’s variety—like modern milk tea’s endless options. Sampling them all felt essential to experiencing Kaifeng fully.

Their first winter together revealed Yun Jingchu’s exceptional cold sensitivity. Tian Qingyi had consulted physicians for nourishing recipes—subtle but cumulative benefits required patience.

Marriage and romance had meant mostly separation until now. Barring unforeseen events, these two-plus years in Kaifeng offered unprecedented togetherness—playing chess, reading, brainstorming flower cultivation or school foundations, even simply sunbathing idly.

Summer’s sun aversion inverted in winter. Post-first-snow, Tian Qingyi eagerly dragged Yun Jingchu outdoors. Initially resistant (fearing complexion damage), Yun Jingchu reluctantly complied after minor darkening provoked two days’ coldness—overridden by Tian Qingyi’s insistence on winter sun’s health benefits without summer’s harshness.

Winter reduced their secret co-sleeping—leaving warm bedding became unbearably taxing. Three monthly visits sufficed; more seemed inhumanely chilly.

Compensating, daytime intimacy flourished beyond routine visits to Fan Zhuzhu and Li Yan. Accounting, research, games, rereading their anonymous book, or burning letters/paper offerings for Jiufang Xin filled their peaceful, fulfilling days.

Her intended “gift” for Jiufang Xin—now unbestowable—left unresolved frustration until inspiration struck: she burned it as a letter. Whether received or not, the act brought closure.

She cherished this domesticity, regretting only its secrecy. The thrill of stolen nights paradoxically embarrassed yet excited her.

Distracted but efficient, Tian Qingyi finished feeding the soup. Returning to the bowl, her unresolved thoughts deepened until Yun Jingchu interrupted: “Do you have something to say?”

Stiffening at the table, Tian Qingyi admitted: “I don’t know how to begin.”

Yun Jingchu’s scrutiny hardened. “Hesitation breeds distrust. Remember our pact—complete honesty. Deceive me, and you know the consequences.”

Their mutual transparency agreement made deception unthinkable—Yun Jingchu’s intolerance for betrayal promised severe repercussions.

The warning almost made Tian Qingyi retreat. Eyes fixed on the brazier, she avoided Yun Jingchu’s gaze until provoked: “First urgent, now silent—explain yourself!”

A slammed warming pan contrasted terrifyingly gentle tones.

“Don’t be angry!” Tian Qingyi grasped Yun Jingchu’s withdrawing hand. “I’m uncertain myself—truly just struggling to articulate.”

After securing Yun Jingchu’s hand (on the second attempt), she confessed: “A dying friend entrusted me with her two-year-old daughter, hoping I’d raise her as my own. Such a commitment requires your consent, yet refusing feels heartless—hence my conflict.”

She omitted that Liu Daniang’s deepest concern was actually the original host—having died unaware of her sister’s spy identity or Kaifeng purpose. To Tian Qingyi, Liu Daniang was an admired stranger; claiming “close friendship” inflated their connection.

“No other relatives?” Yun Jingchu assumed a male friend.

“Orphans both—her spouse predeceased her.” Tian Qingyi considered the executed husband sufficiently “predeceased.”

“A dying wish obliges us. Why hesitate?” Yun Jingchu’s unquestioning acceptance extended to pity for their tragic fate.

Tian Qingyi’s ashamed look triggered realization: “You think I am that heartless?”

“No! I feared childrearing might discomfort you. My mistake—overthinking.” Apologies couldn’t prevent Yun Jingchu from pulling away.

“Early planning is crucial. What’s your public story? And for mother?” Reconciliation came with practicalities.

“Simply, the child is raised under your name. Mother gets the truth.” Vagueness encouraged others’ imaginative explanations. Tian Qingyi’s real concern was Ma Zhusege—how to explain adopting a coincidentally aged child post-mission?

Her solution involved divination: “My friend had her daughter’s fortune told—predicting safety through obscurity. Few knew of her birth, publicly listed as a one-year-old son.”

Rubbing warmed hands, she avoided Yun Jingchu’s gaze.

“Raise her as a son in secrecy?” Yun Jingchu grasped immediately.

“Yes, but she’ll have a backup identity—free to choose her gender presentation later.”

Using fortune-telling as pretext resulted from careful deliberation—not whim. Personally indifferent to others’ opinions, Tian Qingyi considered Fan Zhuzhu and Yun Jingchu’s positions. Even if they accepted societal disapproval, Northern Song’s inheritance laws posed dangers—she’d witnessed estate seizures from heirless families in Huating County.

Without offspring, relatives would pressure adopting a male heir. Even a daughter wouldn’t prevent this. Rather than bequeathing assets to Jiufang mediocrities, she preferred grooming her own successor.

As a modern transplant, she acknowledged not all girls would embrace cross-dressing. Hence Dongxue’s alternate identity—allowing reversion if she matured capable.

“This world mistreats women. A male upbringing offers more options—proceed as planned.” Yun Jingchu approved, recalling societal constraints.

Personally ambivalent toward children—often annoyed by noisy, unattractive nieces/nephews—she considered raising a friend’s child manageable: servants would handle daily care, sparing them societal judgment while fulfilling obligations.