Chapter 61 — The Imperial Court’s Military Conscription
In the following days, Ling Jingxuan buried himself in making fruit jam and brewing grape wine.
In the mornings, he would go up the mountain with Ling Jingpeng and the others to pick fruit. Close to noon, he returned home to cook, determined to keep everyone well-fed so they had the strength to work. The meals were generous—aside from the fish he caught himself, there was meat almost every day. Worth mentioning was Da Baozi Ling Wen, who, for once, did not nag his father about extravagance. His expression still twitched with the faint pain of watching silver coins vanish into the pot, but he kept his mouth shut. A miracle, really.
In the afternoons, Ling Jingxuan rarely went back up the mountain. He stayed home alone, washing and laying out fruit to dry. Wine had to be sealed immediately after brewing; there was no room for carelessness. The Ling family’s farm work was nearly finished as well, so over the past few days Ling Chenglong and his wife had come to help—he carving wooden wedges, she minding the children or washing fruit.
Yan Shengrui, whose health had steadily improved, also got up and walked about from time to time. He wanted to help, but every attempt ended the same way: either Ling Jingxuan drove him off, or Ling Wang-shi blocked him with a glare sharp enough to cut rope. With no choice, he could only sit and stare at his wife in a daze, occasionally teaching the three little buns some basic learning.
Don’t ask how a man who had lost his memory could still lecture on scholarship. He didn’t know either. The words simply came the moment he opened his mouth. After a while, everyone stopped questioning it.
Though the days were busy, both households lived with a sense of fullness and quiet happiness.
Across the village, however, the old Ling family was anything but peaceful.
Instigated by Ling Jingwei, Old Master Ling had stormed into town with the eldest branch in tow, brimming with righteous fury. They returned in disgrace—dusty, humiliated, and clutching a formal divorce document between Ling Jingwei and Zhao Suhua. Worse still, because they had caused such a scene, Shopkeeper Zhao—who had initially intended to preserve some face out of former in-law courtesy—had lost his temper. Before a crowd, he produced a medical certificate from the physician at Xinhé Hall in town. The diagnosis was written in black ink, clear as daylight: Ling Jingwei was born with congenital cold deficiency of essence. He would never father a child.
There is no wall in this world that does not leak wind. The news spread to Lingjia Village in no time. Ling Jingwei—and indeed the entire Ling family—became the villagers’ favorite topic over tea. The old residence sank beneath a cloud of gloom. The overbearing old madam cursed the second branch from dawn to dusk, having already decided in her heart that they were enemies.
Five days later, through everyone’s joint efforts, fifty jars of fruit preserves were filled to the brim, and one hundred jars of grape wine were brewed and sealed away in the cellar. The already cramped underground room was packed tight.
Just as everyone finally exhaled, planning to rest for two days before continuing, the court’s conscription order was officially delivered to the village.
Ling Chenglong and his wife were summoned back home. So was Ling Jingpeng. Zhao Dalong and his husband wore equally troubled expressions. Whether the authorities acknowledged their marriage or not was irrelevant—the court recognized only labor capacity. And in truth, both of them were laborers. One of them had to go serve the corvée military duty.
“I wonder how Father and Mother are faring,” Ling Jingxuan murmured.
Tomorrow, Shopkeeper Zhang would arrive to collect the preserves. Sitting beneath the eaves, watching Da Baozi practice calligraphy, Ling Jingxuan could not help but knit his brows.
The eldest branch of the Ling family had two sons. The second branch also counted as two for now. The third branch had three, though the youngest was only twelve and did not meet the age requirement. That meant the conscription would select from six eligible men.
Given the old madam’s blatant favoritism, she would undoubtedly push someone from the second branch forward.
Ling Jinghan’s illness had improved greatly, but under Ling Jingxuan’s instructions, he continued to pretend there was no recovery at all. That left only Jingpeng.
These past days, if Ling Jingpeng had not supported him at every turn, Ling Jingxuan—with this battered body of his—could never have taken on such a large order. From the bottom of his heart, he was grateful to this younger brother. And worried.
“You knew this was coming,” Yan Shengrui said, finishing his instruction on boxing to Xiao Baozi and walking over to sit beside him. “At worst, we take out twenty taels of silver and buy out the service.”
Sometimes he truly could not understand him. If he was worried and they had the money, why torment himself?
“The silver will be paid,” Ling Jingxuan replied calmly, casting him a sideways glance. One hand propped beneath his chin, his gaze deepened. “But not yet. This might be the opportunity—the best one—to make Father and Mother separate from the main household and live on their own.”
As Ling Jinghan’s health improved and their own fortunes rose, it was only a matter of time before certain people began to harbor other thoughts. Dividing the family was inevitable.
At that moment, Ling Jingxuan did not know that every opportunity demands a price.
And that price would haunt him for the rest of his life.
“You’re right. This can’t be delayed any longer.” Yan Shengrui nodded, then added, “After we deliver this batch, shouldn’t we repair the house? If Father and Mother move over, three thatched rooms won’t be enough.”
Yan Shengrui nodded and suddenly reached out to clasp his hand.
Having lost his memories, he had somehow become simpler. He did not fuss like other men over whether the household silver was earned by him, nor did he brood over wounded masculine pride. In his eyes, in his heart, there was only one thing—he felt for Jingxuan, and he felt for the children. He did not want to see them live through lean, bitter days again.
There was, admittedly, another reason.
Jingxuan always slept with the children. Even if Yan Shengrui occasionally wished to steal a kiss or brush against warm jade in the dark, he never found the chance. If this continued, it would be stranger if he did not fall ill from holding back.
Of course, he would never confess that part.
“I’m thinking of buying all the land along the entrance to Yuehua Mountain,” Ling Jingxuan said, his tone even. “We could build a garden-style estate outright. But let’s wait until the matter of dividing the household is settled. I’ve no mind right now to plan such things.”
“As long as you have a plan.” Yan Shengrui followed his gaze meaningfully toward Ling Wen, who was practicing characters on a sand table not far away. Both men wore helpless yet indulgent smiles. “But shouldn’t we speak to Xiao Wen first?”
Indeed. If they dared to purchase land and build a house behind the little bun’s back, who knew how long he would lecture them? For the sake of future peace and quiet, they had better inform him beforehand.
“Father, why hasn’t Tiewa come today?”
At some point, Ling Wu had finished his boxing and now stood before them, drenched in sweat. His small face was scrunched tightly with disappointment. “I wanted to practice with him.”
That reminder struck Ling Jingxuan at once. The Zhao family also had to send someone for military service. Their household was likely in turmoil as well.
The Zhao & Han couple were both men. Because of their marriage, they had endured years of criticism. Yet their bond was genuine. Whoever went to serve would be torn away from the other in truth. Ling Jingxuan had planned to pay them their wages after delivering the goods tomorrow, but it seemed better to do so sooner. These past days, he had relied heavily on their help.
Yan Shengrui knew by the distant look in his eyes that he was calculating something again and did not interrupt. Instead, he poured a cup of tea and held it to Ling Wu’s lips.
“Look at you, exhausted. Martial arts are not mastered in a single day. We advance step by step.”
After several days together, he had grown accustomed to the children. Both boys liked him greatly.
“Mm. Father, I heard your martial arts are very good,” Ling Wu said after draining the cup in one gulp. His bright eyes blinked expectantly. “I’ve almost learned all the tai chi Daddy taught me. Can you teach me something else?”
Ling Wen, who had finished his writing practice, also looked over with quiet anticipation. Unlike Ling Wu, who was practically a little martial arts fanatic, Ling Wen was less obsessed—but if there was more to learn, he would gladly learn it.
“Of course,” Yan Shengrui replied, pinching Ling Wu’s nose affectionately while pouring tea for Ling Wen. “From now on, whatever you wish to learn, I will teach you. But you must not neglect your studies. One day, you must become a man who is accomplished in both civil studies and martial arts.”
His injuries had not fully healed; for now, he could only manage small tasks within his strength.
The little buns exchanged a glance and nodded in unison.
Ling Jingxuan suddenly beckoned to Ling Wen. “Xiao Wen, come here. I have something to discuss with you.”
“Yes!”
Ling Wen set down his teacup without much thought and walked over.
Ling Jingxuan took his hand and spoke seriously.
“It’s like this. The court has begun conscription. Any household with at least two able-bodied men between fourteen and thirty-five must send one to serve. You’re still young, so you may not know—those drafted soldiers are usually pushed to the very front lines. They die the fastest. In other words, they’re being sent to their deaths.
“If a family doesn’t want to send someone, they must pay twenty taels of silver per person. I’ve thought it over. There’s no way the old Ling household will pay. In the end, they’ll surely send your little uncle. I only have this one younger brother. No matter what, I won’t stand by and watch him go die. That silver will likely have to come from us.
“And then there’s your Uncle Zhao’s family. Given their circumstances, I doubt they can produce twenty taels either. These past days, if not for them helping us pick fruit, just your father and your little uncle alone—how long would it have taken to finish two thousand five hundred jin of jam and one hundred jars of wine? So I’m thinking of bringing them twenty taels as well. We’ll count it as wages. What do you think?”
Forty taels in total.
For an ordinary family, that was several years’ worth of expenses. It was no small sum. Ling Jingxuan could easily have decided on his own, but he was used to asking Da Baozi’s opinion. He had once promised that any large expense would be discussed with him. As a father, he did not wish to break his word—even if, in the end, he would act regardless.
To his surprise, Ling Wen frowned and straightened his small face, lecturing him instead.
“Daddy, don’t you always say that money that ought to be spent must be spent? This is not silver we can save.”
Ling Jingxuan’s forehead darkened for a moment—then his lips curved. He reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair.
“Ah, your daddy was muddled. No amount of silver matters more than people. This is not money we can spare.”
He had underestimated him. His da baozi might be tightfisted, but he understood what truly counted.
“Exactly.” Ling Wen wore the air of a tiny elder dispensing wisdom. “At worst, we’ll tighten our belts later. Or Xiao Wu and I can wait another year before going to school. You should settle Little Uncle’s and Uncle Zhao’s matters quickly.”
Ling Jingxuan and Yan Shengrui exchanged helpless looks, half amused and half exasperated. Perhaps a child who was too sensible was not entirely a blessing either.
“Very well. I only wanted to let you know.” Ling Jingxuan rose briskly, patting his clothes as if preparing to flee before he was lectured further. “You two continue practicing characters with Father. I’ll deliver the silver to Uncle Zhao’s house.”
As for the old Ling residence, that would have to wait until the conscription decision was finalized.
“Daddy, I want to go with you!”
Ling Wu, who had been clinging to Yan Shengrui, suddenly dashed over and wrapped himself around Ling Jingxuan’s leg, tilting his head up in pleading. He hadn’t seen Tiewa all day. He missed him.
“Alright. We’ll go together.”
Ling Jingxuan bent to scoop him up, then looked at Yan Shengrui. “I’ll be back soon. If Father and Mother come by, help me keep them here. I’ll leave the house to you.”
“Mm. Go on. Wear the straw hats—the sun’s fierce.”
Yan Shengrui picked up the straw hats Ling Wang-shi had woven from rice stalks over the past two days and settled them onto father and son’s heads. His large hand took the opportunity to boldly stroke Ling Jingxuan’s cheek. If circumstances allowed, he would have liked nothing more than to pounce and steal a bite.
Alas, the child was present. He could only endure.
Ling Jingxuan was not blind to it. The man’s actions were far too direct, and the heat in his gaze was barely concealed. One hardly needed to think to know he was once again… stirred.
For the sake of not corrupting the children, Ling Jingxuan merely shot him a powerless glare and turned away with Ling Wu in his arms.
Yan Shengrui watched their figures recede, grinning with undisguised satisfaction.
Beside him, Ling Wen looked up suspiciously at his father.
Why did Father look so… foolishly pleased?
Yay! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ I finally caught up!!
Note to readers: Since I already caught up with the chapters in NU, I’ll update less chapters. Still Tuesdays & Fridays but only 2 chapters/day. I’ll update shortly for the next two chapters. See ya there! ꉂ(˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵)
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Translator: LazyHermitGal
Author: LazyHermitGal
A Lazy Hermit Gal. A little support goes a long way! If you’d like to help me keep creating, you can do so at https://ko-fi.com/lazyhermitgal
