WSMTATMC C22

Chapter 22

When it came down to it, Wang Ying didn’t actually dislike Chen Qingyan. Aside from being a bit stubborn in temperament, the fellow had no real faults.

In terms of family background, Qingyan was the pampered son of a landlord with several hundred mu¹ of farmland. Wang Ying himself was just a village ge’er² without parents’ affection; if he hadn’t married Qingyan, he’d likely have been wed to a common farmer and spent a lifetime toiling in the fields.

In terms of looks, Qingyan was genuinely handsome. True, he’d wasted away during his illness, but in recent days he’d regained some flesh; one glance told you this was a properly attractive young man. In Wang Ying’s previous world, he’d easily count as a “little fresh meat” and could practically debut on the spot.

In terms of learning, Qingyan was only seventeen and had already thoroughly read the Four Books and Five Classics, the Three Histories, and was proficient in mathematics. As a university graduate, Wang Ying could barely match up to him in learning.

Moreover, Qingyan had no bad habits: early to bed and early to rise, didn’t drink or gamble, liked cleanliness, and spent his days studying, practicing calligraphy, and keeping up his exercise.

All told, he really wasn’t a bad partner.

Forget it — let things run their course. There’s no such thing as perfection in this world; besides, for now he couldn’t leave him even if he wanted to. Perhaps, in time, he’d just get used to it.

Wang Ying stood and stretched, then began tending to the vegetables. After harvesting the wheat, he’d divided the experimental field into three sections: one still growing wheat, another planted with several common vegetables, and a third kept empty so he could transplant fruit trees into it. That way, they could eat fresh fruit even in winter.

While he worked in the field in high spirits, Qingyan tossed and turned in bed.

For the past two days, he’d felt as though Wang Ying were avoiding him. The reason he hadn’t told Fourth Uncle about the truth of the cheating allegation had nothing to do with saving face — it was a matter of his future, and he’d never give it up for mere pride.

Since being disqualified, he had read many books and historical records. In every dynasty, candidates expelled from the examinations for cheating almost never had a chance to test again.

For example, in the 12th year of Emperor Wuhe’s reign, the famed Suzhou prodigy Liang Liufang was framed in the provincial exam and stripped of his qualification — and never regained the right to sit for the exams. Out of anger, he wrote forty-seven poems lambasting the friend who had framed him and the imperial court.

If a famous talent like that couldn’t sit again, what chance did an obscure tongsheng³ like himself have?

Sighing in frustration, Qingyan lit a lamp and slowly made his way to the desk to find a book to ease his mood.

By chance, the book on ge’er anatomy was lying there — the one he’d originally found in his father’s study, probably bought years ago when his mother was pregnant.

Trimming the wick so the flame was brighter, he flipped through it.

The early pages were normal enough, full of ge’er physiology basics. He only reddened slightly on reaching the pregnancy diagrams. But when he turned to the final page… he froze.

W–what… is this?

He snapped the book shut, his face heating like steam. Absolutely vulgar and obscene! No wonder Wang Ying had been avoiding him since reading it.

Just then, Wang Ying emerged from the experimental field.

“You’re… still up?”

Qingyan reacted like a startled bird, fumbling to hide the book — but the more flustered the person, the more mistakes. Not only did he fail to hide it, he knocked it off the desk, and it fell open on the floor… right to the last page.

…

…

…

The air was thick with awkward silence. Wang Ying coughed, giving him a knowing look. “You’ve just recovered — mind your moderation.”

“You misunderstand…”

“Early to bed. I’ll just go to the latrine.” Wang Ying, in a rare moment of tact, left him the privacy to recover.

When he returned, Qingyan was lying in bed, eyes closed — whether asleep or not, Wang Ying couldn’t tell.

He snuck into bed without taking off his clothes, keeping a gap wide enough for two grown men between them.

Then Qingyan spoke. “I know you didn’t want to marry me. My health is mostly back now — if you want to leave, we can always agree to dissolve the marriage.”

“Who says? Absolutely not!” (If I leave you, how will I use the experimental field?)

“Wang Ying… you’re not really from here, are you?”

“W–why do you say that?”

“I had Chen Bo inquire. Before your marriage, you were a silent, withdrawn ge’er, hardly spoke to anyone, and couldn’t read.”

Damn — so he’s suspected me for a while now.

“I’ve met people from your village — most are honest but slow, rough in speech. You’re nothing like them, even unlike anyone in this region.”

Wang Ying rolled over and teased, “Maybe I’m a spirit-beast in disguise. Are you scared?”

“I know you’re not.” In his heart, Qingyan added: And if you were, you’d be a good one.

“I’m not, no. Last time I didn’t tell you because I thought you’d be frightened. But I really am from another world. Back there, I was a student — a few years older than you, majoring in agriculture.”

“Like a Ministry of Agriculture scholar?”

“More or less. Then one day, while inspecting crops, I fell into a well. When I woke, I was here — in someone else’s body, another Wang Ying.”

“I see… I once read a story like that, about a man who slept and woke to find he’d swapped souls with the family ox — the ox became a man, the man an ox.”

Wang Ying gave a wry smile. “I’ve got it a bit better: I changed from a man into a ge’er.”

Qingyan fell speechless — no wonder he’d always wanted to be “brothers” instead of a real couple.

After a pause, he said, “If… you want us to just be brothers together, that’s fine.”

Grinning, Wang Ying scooted over. “Knew you were a good guy!”

Seeing the other finally set aside his wariness, Qingyan smiled faintly. Whatever the nature of their relationship, so long as he stayed by his side, it was enough.

That night, Wang Ying slept fitfully, half-dreaming, half-waking.

At first he dreamed he was back in his original world. His grandparents’ house was being demolished for development, and the compensation was over ten million yuan plus an extra apartment.

There had actually been rumours of demolition in his past life — the site was supposedly earmarked for a resort, but years had passed with no developer taking it on. In the dream, the demolition really came.

Long-lost relatives and acquaintances suddenly became warm again. His parents each called, asking after his life and studies.

Wang Ying found it laughable — back when he’d had no money, they hadn’t cared at all. Now that he was grown and no longer financially strained, they suddenly wanted to “care.”

He wasn’t stupid; he ignored them, saved the money, and kept studying.

Soon his mother claimed she didn’t have enough to buy a house and asked to borrow money. When Wang Ying refused, she sued, arguing that as her parents’ child, he was primary heir to their property. The shamelessness made his stomach turn.

When his grandmother had been gravely ill, she hadn’t come home to care for her, always claiming she was “too busy with work.” But now she had time to fight for an inheritance.

Luckily, his grandfather had transferred the house into Wang Ying’s name as a gift before his death — his mother had no claim.

When she failed to get money, she began loitering at his campus, sitting under his dorm and screaming that he was unfilial, trying to morally blackmail him. In the end, he had no choice but to move.

Then his father came to borrow money, claiming he had cancer and needed treatment. These two were like locusts, impossible to shake.

In the dream, Wang Ying wept with anger — it felt as real as if it had happened.

The dream shifted, flowing from the modern back to the ancient. He found himself bathing in a wooden tub, white steam clouding his vision.

Suddenly, someone embraced him from behind, skin to skin, making him shiver.

Cool lips brushed along the hair at his temple, wet and tickling.

Wang Ying realised his breathing was quickening. He tried to turn and push away, but his wrists were pinned above his head — and then came a stormy, deep kiss.

Involuntarily, he opened his mouth, and a warm wet tongue slid in, tangling with his own, making spit spill from the corners of his mouth. In the dream, he had no strength to resist, only to passively endure the kiss.

In his past life, he’d never even been kissed — who knew a kiss could unravel a person like this, dizzy and electric all over?

He felt a hand sliding down his waist, almost reaching— when a rooster’s crow woke him.

Wang Ying opened his eyes and looked at the peacefully sleeping Qingyan beside him. Only after a moment did it sink in — it had been a dream.

When he slipped a hand under the covers, his face turned slate dark… Oh no. He was probably bent for real now.

Third Aunt stayed a few more days before returning to the county, leaving the household quiet again.

Wang Ying took the chance to plan a trip to the manor. The millet was nearly ripe, and he wanted to bring some of the experimental wheat out for planting, to test its yield under primitive ancient conditions.

Once he took over the shop premises, he’d have little time to go.

Qingyan insisted on coming too. Li Shi was worried. “Is your body up for it?”

“It’ll be fine. I’m bored at home anyway — a trip to the manor with A-Ying will do me good.”

Qingyun, having been once, didn’t want to go — nothing fun there compared to staying home with her embroidery.

Qingsong had school again, and could only pout as he headed off with Qiu An after Wang Ying promised to bring him a straw toy from the fields.

For convenience, they loaded Qingyan’s wheelchair into the cart. Chen Bo drove, while the two sat inside.

Watching the scenery through the window, Wang Ying’s mind wandered back to last night’s dream. His gaze drifted to Qingyan’s mouth.

The fellow’s lips were rather nice-looking — pink and soft. What would they feel like to kiss… Ahhh! What was he thinking?!

He banged his head against the cart wall.

Qingyan frowned. “Can’t you sit properly? If you don’t want to ride, get down and pull alongside the mule!”

…

Alright — maybe he wasn’t bent after all.

Footnotes:

1. Mu (亩) – Traditional measure of land area; ~666.7 m² or 0.165 acre. 
2. Ge’er (哥儿) – In fictional/historical Chinese settings, a male who can conceive and bear children; treated as a distinct gender. 
3. Tongsheng (童生) – A licentiate; students who passed the local qualifying exam, eligible to take the county-level imperial exam.