I Am A Husband Curser, And You Are A Wife Curser. - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: The Return

To say Yang Tongchuan was a bit dirty would be an understatement. If he weren’t wearing his official yamen constable uniform, you could have tossed him into a nest of beggars and Xiangxi might not have recognized him at first glance.

Mother Yang immediately sent Yanzi to boil bathwater. The eldest sister-in-law went to cook, while Xiangxi attended to Yang Tongchuan—helping him change, shaving his beard, and scrubbing him clean. Any stories would have to wait until he was properly settled.

While scrubbing Yang Tongchuan’s back, Xiangxi noticed several new bruises. Upon asking, he learned they had just cracked the grave-robbing case.

Last time, Yang Tongchuan had suggested to Head Constable Wang that perhaps the culprit wasn’t after the corpse itself, but was targeting the living. Following this lead, they eventually squeezed a tip out of the wealthy merchant’s concubine. It turned out that last month, at a banquet, the merchant had a friction with a peer from the neighboring county. The cause was simple: the merchant had snatched a piece of business away from him. It was a common occurrence in trade, nothing to make a fuss about, but the two investigators dug deeper.

They discovered that the competitor had grown increasingly resentful. A “friend” of his, who dabbled in feng shui and the occult, gave him a malicious idea. The friend claimed the merchant’s success was due to the excellent location of his late wife’s grave, which supposedly channeled wealth. He suggested desecrating the grave, digging up the coffin, and reburying it in a “cursed land” doomed to bring ruin and death upon the family.

The peer, fueled by several jars of wine, actually ordered his servants to carry out the deed. Yang Tongchuan and the others had been away so long because they were staking out the suspects. Since they didn’t know where the coffin was hidden, they had to “wait for the rabbit to hit the tree,” eventually catching them red-handed as they were about to rebury the coffin in the cursed plot.

“How did you get these bruises on your back?” Xiangxi asked, stroking the marks with heartache.

“I’m not sure. Probably got bumped while scuffling with those thugs,” Yang Tongchuan replied dismissively. “Hurry up with the washing, I’m starving to death. I need to eat.”

His stomach let out an timely growl. Xiangxi sped up his movements to get him clean. Fortunately, there were leftover steamed buns from dinner. The sister-in-law whipped up a few quick dishes, and Yang Tongchuan ate until he was stuffed. Xiangxi stood by, pouring him a cup of warmed wine. This was the father-in-law’s instruction: after freezing outside for so many days, a bit of wine to drive out the cold would do him good.

Sated and warm, Yang Tongchuan collapsed onto the fragrant, soft bed. Pure bliss.

“Head Constable Wang said there will likely be a reward once the paperwork for this case is finished.” A constable’s official salary was low, but the “extras” were plenty. On lucky occasions, the rewards exceeded the monthly pay.

“I’d rather you didn’t earn any rewards, as long as you’re safe and sound,” Xiangxi whispered. Receiving no reply, he leaned in to see that Yang was already fast asleep. He had been so exhausted that he fell into a deep slumber mid-sentence. Xiangxi tucked him in and lay down beside him. Listening to the rhythm of Yang Tongchuan’s snoring, Xiangxi felt an immense sense of peace.

He’s finally home safe.

The next morning, Xiangxi woke up to a strange yet familiar sensation of soreness. Opening his eyes, he found Yang Tongchuan hovering over him, “feasting” hungrily. Seeing Xiangxi wake up, Yang didn’t feel shy at all; instead, he intensified his efforts.

Xiangxi originally wanted to tell him to be quiet, but then thought better of it. The man had suffered outside for so many days; there was no need to spoil his fun. His slender arms circled Yang’s neck as he proactively leaned in to kiss the corner of his lips.

Yang Tongchuan was like a persistent hound—there was no way he was letting go of the meat once it reached his mouth. He pinned Xiangxi down, and Xiangxi indulged him, letting him have his way. Sensing Xiangxi’s cooperation, an excited Yang lifted him up to explore further.

After a vigorous “harmony of life,” Yang Tongchuan felt refreshed and leaped out of bed. After a quick breakfast, he rushed to the yamen, eager to collect his reward. Looking at his smug expression, Xiangxi found it hard to reconcile this man with the stern, intimidating constable he used to be.

Sure enough, by evening, Yang Tongchuan returned with his tail wagging. Every constable involved in the operation was rewarded with one tael of silver. Because Yang had contributed significantly, Head Constable Wang privately gave him an extra 500 wen. As for the merchant’s total gratitude payment, Yang didn’t know the full amount, but he ended up with 5 taels in his share.

He brought home a total of 6.5 taels of silver. The whole family was delighted. Mother Yang took 3 taels for household expenses and let Yang Tongchuan keep the rest. Yang put the 500 wen in the coin box by the bed for Xiangxi’s daily use, and tucked the remaining 3 taels into a hidden box at the bottom of a large chest.

That box had nearly 70 taels saved up. Most of it came from his wages and case bonuses, but a portion was “gray income”—money paid by families to pass messages to prisoners, or bribes to have the guards swing the punishment staves a bit lighter so a “crippling” sentence became a mere flesh wound.

The yamen was full of such dealings. There were also “tributes” from gambling dens and the docks, of which the Head Constable would share a few scraps with his subordinates. Yang Tongchuan never mentioned these things to the family. He suspected his elder brother’s situation was similar; otherwise, where would the money for his sister-in-law’s expensive fertility tonics have come from all these years?

Xiangxi sat in the small parlor of the bedroom, mending the constable uniform Yang had torn during the mission. He didn’t know how much money Yang had saved, nor did he care to know. Xiangxi had no interest in managing finances; he didn’t want the headache.

Back at the Xiang Household

Life wasn’t nearly as easy. Without Xiangxi’s labor, the sister-in-law had to look after the infant and the toddler while also trying to help with Xiang Qiang’s stall. She hadn’t recovered properly from childbirth, and her body ached constantly.

“Don’t get up, sleep a bit longer,” Xiang Qiang said, rising before dawn. Running the stall alone meant he was often overwhelmed, so he had to start even earlier. He stopped making the small 2-wen flatbreads, switching entirely to the 3-wen ones. He also prepared less noodle soup each day so he could sell out and rush home sooner.

Bao’er now played by himself in the yard all day, getting as dirty as a mud monkey, with no one to tend to him. The newborn was nicknamed “Gui’er,” and they were waiting to find an educated scholar to give him a formal name.

Xiang Qiang hadn’t seen his brother-in-law at the market for several days. After asking other patrolling constables, he learned Yang Tongchuan was away on a case. Seeing him today made Xiang Qiang exceptionally happy; he served a large bowl of noodle soup and brewed a pot of fresh tea to welcome him.