The Cannon Fodder Top is Still Raising His Husband Today [Transmigration] - Chapter 5

Moving cargo was indeed no easy feat. After just one trip, Song Bo was panting heavily; manual labor was always grueling and poorly paid.

A middle-aged man, shirtless and heading back to the pickup point, noticed Song Bo standing still and spoke up. “New here?”

When arriving at a new place, it was natural to be humble. Song Bo nodded twice, looking harmless and earnest.

The shirtless man had a kind face and a helpful heart. Seeing that Song Bo had not yet mastered the knack for moving cargo, he gave a direct demonstration. “You have to grip these two sides, then use your body’s momentum to swing the goods onto your shoulder.” As he spoke, he effortlessly hoisted two bags onto his shoulders, one on the left and one on the right.

Song Bo took the lesson to heart and immediately put the new technique into practice. As expected, after using the man’s trick, getting the cargo onto his shoulder became much easier. “Thank you, big brother,” he expressed his gratitude.

“Ha, it is a small matter.” The shirtless man gave a simple, honest laugh and walked side-by-side with Song Bo toward the boat owner’s cargo ship.

Through casual conversation, Song Bo learned that the man’s name was Li Wu. Since his family had been farmers for generations with no scholars among them, he was simply named according to his birth order.

Li Wu nimbly dropped the two bags onto the ship and slapped the dust off his hands. “Listening to you talk, you sound quite refined. You must have studied, right?”

Compared to Li Wu’s relaxed ease, Song Bo struggled significantly. Earlier, he could still manage a few words with Li Wu, but halfway through the trip, he only had enough breath to gasp.

Li Wu lent a hand to help Song Bo lower the cargo from his shoulder, finally giving him some room to breathe.

“I read a bit when I was younger.”

Upon hearing this, Li Wu showed a look of envy.

In the hierarchy of Scholars, Farmers, Artisans, and Merchants, Scholars ranked first; one could imagine how much weight this identity carried. For commoners wanting to step into the scholar class, education was the clearest path. Unfortunately, the cost of schooling in the Heng Kingdom was high; only relatively wealthy families could afford to support a student.

“Then why did you stop studying?” Li Wu returned to the pickup point with Song Bo. After learning Song Bo was a scholar, he helped him lift the bag onto his shoulder. A scholar’s hands were precious and should not be worn down by coarse hemp sacks.

“No money,” Song Bo told the truth.

Not expecting such a blunt, practical reason, Li Wu blinked in surprise, then laughed. “True, even scholars have to eat.”

The wind at the docks was strong, and seagulls flew by, crying out loudly. Song Bo had no leisure to enjoy the scenery; he simply kept his head down and worked hard. With Li Wu’s company, the work felt slightly easier, but after an entire afternoon, he still felt a sharp pain in his shoulders. He suspected that when he woke up tomorrow, they would certainly be bruised.

“Hard work. Here is the pay.” The boat owner was a man of his word, coming over with the wages as the sky began to dim.

Song Bo held out his hand, and the heavy coins dropped into his palm. They were not many, but they felt substantial.

“Thank you, boss,” Song Bo said.

The owner, seeing that Song Bo had some grit, said, “Work starts at the middle of the Hour of the Dragon (8:00 AM) tomorrow.”

“Understood,” Song Bo replied.

After the owner left, Song Bo finally had time to count the coins in his hand. They were mixed together, making it hard to tell the amount at a glance. He used his fingers to sort through them and count. For a whole afternoon of back-breaking labor, he had earned eighteen coins. While it was not much, it had already covered the cost of the meat buns he ate earlier. Excluding the bun money, he had a net profit of fifteen coins, which counted as the first pot of gold he had earned in this world.

“Brother Li,” Song Bo called out.

Li Wu was putting away his money. Hearing such an elegant form of address, he paused and pointed to himself with some hesitation. “Are you calling me?”

Song Bo nodded.

Li Wu tucked away his money and scratched the back of his head with a hint of shyness. “That is the first time anyone has used that title for me. I thought I had misheard.”

“I guessed you are older than me, so I took the liberty of calling you ‘Brother.’ I hope you do not take offense,” Song Bo said.

“We village folk do not have that many rules; call me whatever you like.” Li Wu waved it off. “Anyway, why did you call for me? Is something the matter?”

“Since Brother Li has worked here for a long time, do you know where I can buy things that are cheap and practical?” Song Bo asked. He was short on funds, but there were items he absolutely had to buy. He did not want to be fleeced like a fat sheep, so he asked Li Wu, who was essentially a local.

“You asked the right person!” Li Wu helped him all the way, taking Song Bo to a market frequented by ordinary people.

The commoners’ market was somewhat messy and disorganized; everyone laid their goods out in the open without much ceremony, which attracted quite a few uninvited “small animals.”

At the market entrance, Li Wu suddenly remembered Song Bo was a scholar. Fearing Song Bo would find the place unsightly, he said, “I took a wrong turn; the proper market should be at the other end.”

“It is fine, Brother Li.” Song Bo stopped Li Wu from turning back. “I can buy things here.”

The surroundings were similar to a modern night market, and Song Bo adapted quite well. After stepping over a puddle of unknown wastewater, he walked into the commoners’ market.

Looking at Song Bo’s back, Li Wu felt that a scholar truly was different from common folk. Even in a noisy environment, he carried a distinct aura.

Things here were indeed cheap. A dou of rice was two coins cheaper; it was not a huge difference, but it would add up to a significant sum over time.

Li Wu had familiar stalls. After using Li Wu’s reputation, Song Bo used thirty-five coins to buy a dou of rice, some seasonings, a few vegetables, and a small piece of meat. Remembering how Jiang Jinxi’s face crumpled when drinking the medicine, he even set aside five coins to spend a “fortune” on a few candies to clear the bitterness.

“Thank you, Brother Li. You have helped me a lot,” Song Bo said. “I will treat you to a meal another day.”

“You already call me ‘Brother,’ so this little help is nothing.” Li Wu looked at the darkening sky and said, “Hurry back. The road out of town is not easy to travel at night.”

“Then I shall take my leave first.” Song Bo bowed, hoisted his purchases on his back, and left.

Ancient times had this one major drawback: the round trip relied entirely on one’s own two legs.

After waking up, Jiang Jinxi sat up in bed. He leaned his back against the cold wall, turning his head to look out the window. The sky outside was a dark, bruised blue. There was a withered tree in the courtyard, its remaining leaves hanging precariously. A gust of wind blew, and the last leaf fell.

This place was far different from the environment of his own home.

Suddenly, someone opened the door, and Jiang Jinxi’s heart jumped into his throat.

“You are awake. How do you feel?”

It was Song Bo’s aunt, who had delivered his meal at noon.

Jiang Jinxi’s heart settled back where it belonged.

“Song Bo is not back yet?” Song Chazai stepped into the room carrying a food box. The house was very quiet, indicating Song Bo had not returned. It was already past the Hour of the Dog (7:00 PM – 9:00 PM). Usually, a worker should be home by this time, yet Song Bo was still missing. He must have taken the money and gone gambling again.

Unsure whether she felt disappointment or some other emotion, Song Chazai pulled over two chairs and walked to the bedside.

As soon as the food box opened, the aroma of the dishes wafted into Jiang Jinxi’s nose. Although the aunt’s cooking was simple, it was full of color, fragrance, and taste, making his stomach growl.

“Having an appetite is a good thing; eat more.” For some reason, Song Chazai liked Jiang Jinxi from the bottom of her heart.

“Thank you, Auntie,” Jiang Jinxi said, blinking his deer-like eyes.

Hearing the word “Auntie,” Song Chazai paused for a moment. She then placed the chopsticks in Jiang Jinxi’s hand and watched him eat his dinner in a slow, refined manner.

Jiang Jinxi was beautiful, well-behaved, and educated, yet he had been trafficked to their mountain village. Song Chazai thought that if Song Bo really turned over a new leaf, it would be fine, but if he stayed his old self, she would have to find a way to send Jiang Jinxi away.

Just as she was thinking of him, Song Bo returned home.

The moment he stepped into the room, he smelled the food. Fearing he would be late, Song Bo had rushed back without eating. Feeling hungry and catching the scent, he placed the items from his back onto the wooden table and asked shamelessly, “Auntie, is there a portion for me?”

“No.” Song Chazai rolled her eyes and pulled Song Bo’s portion out of the food box. Since it was dinner time, she did not know if Song Bo had eaten in town, so she had brought some along just in case.

Song Bo quickly took two steps to receive the bowl. The space by the bed was small; even Jiang Jinxi’s bowl barely had a place to sit.

Jiang Jinxi held his bowl, quietly watching Song Bo from over the rim. Song Bo’s eating manner was very elegant, carrying a scholarly air in every motion. He seemed somewhat uncomfortable, occasionally furrowing his brows when he lifted his left arm. However, what did that have to do with him? Jiang Jinxi lowered his gaze and focused on his meal.

“What did you bring back?” With nothing else to do, Song Chazai was curious about the bags Song Bo had placed on the table. Song Bo never used to bring things home; this was a first.

“Household items,” Song Bo replied after swallowing a mouthful of porridge.

Song Chazai stood up and opened the hemp bag. A dou of rice came into view. Then she looked at the other bags and found they even contained sugar. This was not a common household item; Song Bo must have bought it for Jiang Jinxi.

This actually seemed like the right way to do things. Jiang Jinxi was now Song Bo’s husband, and a husband should naturally be pampered by his own man.

While Song Chazai was looking through the items, Song Bo finished his meal in a few quick bites. He wiped his mouth and called out, “Auntie.”

“What is it?” Song Chazai retied the opened bags.

“I will have to wait a few days to pay back the thirty coins.” Song Bo lowered his voice, feeling a bit embarrassed. Even though he said he would pay it back, he had spent it all on household supplies. He would have to work at the docks for another two days before he could pay her back.

“It is fine.” Hearing Song Bo bring it up himself, Song Chazai remembered she had lent him thirty coins. Song Bo really had changed; in the past, he would never proactively mention money unless it was to dig for as much as he could get from her.

“How can it be fine? Even between brothers, accounts should be settled clearly.” Song Bo stood up, holding the empty bowl, and stood beside Song Chazai. “Auntie has helped me so much; I must pay it back.”

Song Chazai’s heart was filled with a mix of emotions. She looked at Song Bo as he cleared the bowls and found herself speechless.

Third Brother, your son has finally grown up.