The Cannon Fodder Top is Still Raising His Husband Today [Transmigration] - Chapter 2

Song Bo knew the history between the original host and Song Chazai, so he never expected a warm welcome. The fact that he had successfully blocked the door with his hand and prevented her from shutting him out was already a victory in his book.

“Auntie,” Song Bo said, presenting the wooden basket. “I have a favor to ask.”

Hearing this, Song Chazai knew this was a case of the weasel paying a New Year’s visit to the chicken; he was up to no good. Seeing that Song Bo had actually brought gifts this time, she deduced that the silver he owed must be a significant amount.

Song Chazai had helped Song Bo several times in the past without receiving a single thank you, only to be cursed behind her back. Her heart had long since grown cold. She said bluntly, “I have no money. Go find someone else.” With that, she tried to pull the door shut again.

Song Bo blocked the door once more. Fearing she might crush his hand again, Song Chazai’s strength this time was much lighter. At the end of the day, he was her nephew; she could not bring herself to be truly ruthless.

“It is not like that, Auntie. This has nothing to do with gambling.” Song Bo kept his tone as gentle as possible. In this short encounter, he had already figured out Song Chazai’s temperament: she was a typical middle-aged woman, kind-hearted and unable to harden her heart against family. Only someone like her would try multiple times to prop up a piece of rotten mud like the original host.

Song Chazai did not speak, but her hand stopped pulling the door.

“The husband I bought is sick. I want to ask Auntie to come and take a look,” Song Bo said.

Song Bo had prepared his explanation on the way over. Rather than making up a fictitious identity for Jiang Jinxi only to be exposed later and lose more trust, it was better to be direct. He told her he had bought a husband. Given the original host’s scumbag reputation, suddenly buying a spouse was entirely within character.

“You!” Song Chazai flared up instantly. She looked around, grabbed a wooden broom from beside the door, and whacked the side of Song Bo’s thigh. “Your gall is getting bigger by the day! It was one thing when you were gambling, you were only ruining yourself, but now you are out here harming others?” She landed another blow on his back as she spoke.

Song Bo stoically took the beating without making a sound. After all, regardless of the circumstances, Jiang Jinxi was already his husband. Seeing Song Bo take the beating in silence, Song Chazai felt an indescribable stir in her heart. “Say something, damn it!”

“Why is it so noisy?” Song Chazai’s husband, Liu Nanmin, walked out of the bedroom.

Liu Nanmin did not like his wife’s nephew, but because the boy shared his wife’s bloodline, he usually turned a blind eye and deferred to Song Chazai’s judgment. Usually, when this nephew showed up, Song Chazai would chase him away in two seconds. This time, not only had he stayed, but a commotion had broken out. Liu Nanmin came out prepared; if Song Bo dared to lay a hand on Song Chazai, he would have to exercise his authority as an uncle-in-law.

Seeing that Song Chazai was truly furious, Liu Nanmin feared she might faint from the anger. He stepped over to her, caught her hand, and said, “Careful now. Do not let your temper make you light-headed.”

Thanks to Liu Nanmin’s intervention, Song Bo got a moment to breathe. “Auntie,” Song Bo panted, swallowing hard. “Let us save the person first. Afterward, I will let you beat or scold me however you like.”

“Save a person?” Liu Nanmin took the broom and helped soothe Song Chazai’s breathing.

“Yes, save the person first.” Song Chazai had hit Song Bo with real force. The exertion left her leaning against her knees, gasping for air.

Liu Nanmin and Song Chazai had been married for decades; they shared a silent understanding. He put the broom away, turned back into the bedroom, and brought out Song Chazai’s medical kit.

Song Chazai calmed down slightly, though she gave Song Bo a fierce glare as she left the house, clearly signaling that she would settle the score with him later. Song Chazai did not accept the items Song Bo had brought, but there was no logic in taking back a gift already given. After Song Chazai and Liu Nanmin left the courtyard, Song Bo left the wooden basket by the fence and closed the gate behind him.

The distance was short, and with Song Chazai’s urgent pace, they reached Song Bo’s house in minutes. As soon as she entered the yard, she asked, “Where is the person?”

“Auntie, in here.” Song Bo took a long stride to lead the way.

Entering the bedroom, Song Chazai immediately saw Jiang Jinxi lying on the bed, his face flushed with fever. It had to be said that Song Bo must have stepped in dog luck to have such a windfall. In the village, poor families who could not afford to properly marry a woman would often spend a bit of money to buy a Ger. While Song Chazai did not approve of the practice, she lived in the village and could not fight the local customs alone, so she usually adopted a “see no evil” approach. She had seen the Gers those people bought before; they were either thin as firewood or dark as coal. None looked like the celestial beauty lying on the bed.

Song Chazai’s suspicion of Song Bo deepened. She wondered if the word “bought” was a lie and if he had actually kidnapped this person through some nefarious means. She turned to look at Song Bo. Beneath thick sword-brows were a pair of charming phoenix eyes, a high nose, and relaxed, thin lips. The man looked decent enough; why did he always do things that would invite a lightning strike from the heavens?

“Auntie, please take a look.” After leading her to the bedside, Song Bo stepped aside. He could not help with the medical side, so staying out of the way allowed more light to reach the bed.

Song Chazai placed the medical kit on the floor, sat down beside Jiang Jinxi, and gently rolled up his left sleeve. A prominent rope burn entered her vision. Song Chazai took several deep breaths, forcing herself to suppress her rage. She would settle the score with Song Bo after she finished the examination and prescribed the medicine.

Seeing that mark, Song Bo’s heart skipped a beat. In his rush to get help, he had forgotten about the rope burns. Seeing Song Chazai’s face darken visibly, he knew he was going to have to take the blame for this.

A hand marked by years of labor rested on Jiang Jinxi’s pale, delicate wrist, creating a sharp contrast. Song Bo drifted into a daze at the sight. Jiang Jinxi truly was a Ger from an aristocratic family. Although his gender was not an advantage in the traditional sense, his family must have doted on him to have raised him so delicately. A flower-like person like Jiang Jinxi should have lived a peaceful life in the capital. Instead, he was framed, sent to a remote village, suffered a series of humiliations, and did not even get a perfect ending in the original book. Song Bo could not help but think that the author actually had no love for Jiang Jinxi.

After a moment, Song Chazai withdrew her hand and gave Song Bo a scathing look before opening her kit to write a prescription. Once Song Chazai finished the procedure, Song Bo moved closer and whispered, “Auntie, is he okay?”

“This is all your doing.” Song Chazai did not want to wake the patient, so the words were squeezed out through her back teeth. She handed the prescription to Liu Nanmin, then grabbed Song Bo and dragged him outside.

Song Bo did not have the equipment to brew medicine, so Liu Nanmin took the prescription and went home first to prepare it. As a breeze blew through the yard, only Song Bo and Song Chazai remained.

“Song Bo, confess. How exactly did this person get here?” Song Chazai asked.

Voluntarily selling a Ger and human trafficking were two different things. The laws of the Da Heng Dynasty were strict regarding trafficking. If the authorities were involved, he would be thrown in jail and given thirty strokes of the cane. As much as Song Chazai disliked her nephew, she did not want to see him in a prison cell.

“I bought him,” Song Bo said.

Song Chazai followed up, “For how much?”

“Two taels.”

Song Chazai let out a cold laugh. She then stood on her tiptoes and pinched Song Bo’s earlobe, pulling the six-foot-tall man down into a crouch. “Two taels of silver is not even enough to buy an ordinary village Ger, yet you bought him?” Song Chazai said unceremoniously. “I may be old, but I am not stupid.”

Song Bo, who had never had his ear pulled in his original world, experienced it here for the first time. While protecting his ear, he explained. After hearing the explanation, Song Chazai loosened her grip. “You are saying someone stopped you and forced the sale on you?”

“Yes. They shoved him into my arms and snatched my silver,” Song Bo lied.

The truth, of course, was different. The original host had been so stunned by Jiang Jinxi’s beauty that he could not even walk. Once he learned the man was for sale, he used the money intended for gambling to buy him. Song Bo was not stupid enough to tell the truth. To win Song Chazai’s trust, he had to depict those people as the ultimate villains. There are levels to being a bad guy, and compared to them, Song Bo’s sins seemed minor.

Song Chazai looked at Song Bo suspiciously; Song Bo remained composed, allowing her to observe him. Seeing that Song Bo did not look like a thief with a guilty conscience, she asked again, “Is what you are saying true?”

“It is true,” Song Bo replied.

Song Chazai felt the reason did not sound entirely true, but Song Bo was a coward; he would not dare commit human trafficking if he knew it meant a public caning. “Once he is better, send him back immediately.” Song Chazai tentatively believed his words for now.

It was currently autumn. The pre-dawn wind carried a chill that bit at the skin. Song Bo pushed Song Chazai back into the house where the walls kept the temperature slightly higher. He said, “Auntie, please keep an eye on him. I will go to Uncle’s place to see if he needs help.”

“Go, go.” Song Chazai waved him away.

Before he even reached Song Chazai’s house, the scent of herbal medicine was already wafting through the air. Song Bo entered the courtyard; the wooden basket he had left earlier was still there. He did not move it, instead following the scent directly into the house.

“Uncle, is there anything I can do?” Song Bo asked modestly.

It is good enough if you do not smash the pot, let alone help, Liu Nanmin thought privately, though his expression was not too harsh. He said, “No need. Just sit nearby.”

Even though Liu Nanmin said that, Song Bo was not so socially inept as to actually just sit there. He stood by Liu Nanmin’s side, being extremely observant. When Liu Nanmin reached out, Song Bo handed him the herbs. When the fire died down slightly, Song Bo grabbed the fan and stoked the flames before Liu Nanmin could. After a few rounds of this, Liu Nanmin found the nephew to be surprisingly handy, and the scowl on his face softened unconsciously.

Seeing the medicine in the clay pot turn darker and the scent in the air grow heavier, Song Bo asked, “Uncle, how much longer until it is ready?”

“Almost.” Liu Nanmin looked it over and took a sniff. Without turning his head, he raised his right hand and said, “Bring a bowl.”

Song Bo quickly grabbed a bowl from the stove counter. It was the perfect size to hold all the herbal liquid.

“Alright, take it over.” Liu Nanmin pressed his hands against his knees to stand up, but because he had been sitting on the small stool for so long, his legs were stiff and his head felt a bit dizzy. Song Bo took the bowl in his left hand and used his right hand to firmly support Liu Nanmin’s arm, helping him up.

Once the dizzy spell passed, Liu Nanmin somewhat awkwardly brushed off Song Bo’s hand. “Just did not sleep well, felt a bit light-headed.”

“How about now? Feeling better?” Song Bo asked.

“I am fine, I am fine.” A bit embarrassed after losing his composure, Liu Nanmin began tidying up. As he worked, he shooed him away. “Hurry up and go. If it gets cold, it was boiled for nothing.”

“Then I will go swap with Auntie and have her come back to check on you.” With that, Song Bo carried the bowl out.

Liu Nanmin, holding the used clay pot with a cloth, watched Song Bo’s departing figure. This nephew seemed a bit different from before.