Chapter 39: A Millet Dream, Why Bother to Worry?

Su Chen raised an eyebrow: "This should be a good thing; why does the Young Master look worried?"

Xiao Jingyuan's Adam's apple twitched slightly.

Suddenly, Su Chen seemed to realize something, startled, lowered his voice a bit, and probed: "What the Young Master dreamed of... could it be the Fourth Miss?"

Xiao Jingyuan turned his gaze to him, saying nothing.

Yet at this moment, silence spoke louder than words.

Su Chen slowly widened his eyes. How absurd could this be?

"Really the Fourth Miss, this......"

Su Chen thought, no wonder when the Young Master saw the Fourth Miss and the Young Marquis together today, he felt a chill run through his body and urgently wanted to call the Fourth Miss over.

He still thought the Young Master simply disliked how idle the Fourth Miss was.

"It's just a millet dream; why should the Young Master fret?" Su Chen forced himself to stay calm, but inside he felt like waves crashing against the shore—he prided himself on flawless plans, yet never imagined he'd one day have to resolve his superior's love tribulation.

Su Chen himself wasn't even married yet—how could he help someone else with their love problems, especially when that person was his direct superior...

But coming back to it, why would the Young Master have such a dream? Could it be that he actually likes the Fourth Miss?!

Xiao Jingyuan seemed to see what Su Chen was thinking, furrowed his brows, and said: "I originally had no stray thoughts about her."

Xiao Jingyuan knows himself well; from start to finish he never had any other thoughts about Shen Shuangning—if he had, he wouldn't have pushed her toward Xie Lin in the first place, nor let the misunderstanding take root and go along with it.

And now his excessive concern stems from that strange dream, but if we ask whether he likes Shen Shuangning, the answer is certainly no.

Moreover, he already knows Xie Lin likes her, making it even less possible for him to harbor any impure feelings toward Shen Shuangning.

"Then it's strange—if the Young Master doesn't even like the Fourth Miss, how could he have such a dream?" Su Chen crossed his arms, pondering; few problems in the world could stump him.

This is also what Xiao Jingyuan finds most puzzling.

That strange dream clings to him like a ghost—these memories that shouldn't belong to him, instead cling like a bone-deep ulcer, impossible to shake off.

At first he mistakenly thought Shen Shuangning had used some trick on him, but after several probes he ruled that out.

The problem lies within himself.

Su Chen crossed his arms, fell into thought, then his pupils suddenly contracted: "If we exclude human scheming... has the Young Master ever heard of the theory of past lives?"

Xiao Jingyuan startled: "Past lives?"

Su Chen nodded, speaking with conviction: "The Young Master harbors no stray thoughts toward the Fourth Miss, yet inexplicably has such a strange dream; only the past-life explanation can account for it."

The rosy glow gilded half of Xiao Jingyuan's face, the other half hidden in shadow, his expression indiscernible.

At night, after bathing, Xiao Jingyuan stood by the window, head raised to gaze at the moon.

Su Chen later told him that the courses of fate in past and present lives need not overlap; in a past life Shen Shuangning was his wife, but in this life that may not be the case.

Perhaps the past life was a karmic debt, and only now is he gradually returning to the right path.

Xiao Jingyuan suddenly recalled the dream—he had always been cold toward her, not even gentle; he really wasn't a good husband.

Perhaps precisely because of that, in this life she resolutely let go of his hand, turned, and threw herself into another's embrace.

Xiao Jingyuan rubbed his temples with his fingertips, a flicker of annoyance crossing his eyes; he prided himself on being calm and rational, yet in this matter he had been uneasy for quite a while, indeed

It seems he ought to stay away from Shen Shuangning.

Two days later, Xiao Jingyuan kept his promise, sending someone to deliver those hundred catties of potatoes to the side gate of the Rongguo Duke's residence.

"I am Chen Jia; I have met the Fourth Miss."

A man in his early thirties, clad in a whitened coarse-hemp long robe, the blue-gray fabric dotted with a few specks of undried mud, his features ordinary, his two outstretched hands broad and rough—evidently a lifelong laborer.

Behind him stood a rickety donkey cart, loaded with several sacks of round potatoes, the bags bound tight with hemp rope.

When the words "Chen Jia" reached her ears, Shen Shuangning jumped in surprise.

Chen Jia was precisely that humble-origin hero who, in a past life, carried a sack of potatoes into the palace and presented them to Emperor Xuanwen!

He later became Minister of Revenue Chen, greatly favored by Emperor Xuanwen.

In that past life, few people earned Shen Shuangning's admiration; Chen Jia counts as one.

He came from a farming-and-reading family, yet willingly rooted himself in the fields; during his tenure as Minister of Revenue he promoted waterworks, pushed hemp and mulberry, reduced taxes, relieved disasters, and always wore a plain whitewashed coarse-hemp undershirt beneath his official robes.

He was like a clear stream, never taking part in the capital's elite jade forest banquets or flower-and-wine gatherings; whenever leaving court, instead of going to some brothel to listen to music, he would head to the farmland on the outskirts of the capital to watch rice sprouts push up and potatoes swell.

Behind his back many laughed at his rustic air, deeming him unfit for refined halls, yet he was a good official who served the people and the state with concrete deeds.

Yet good officials often meet ill ends; Chen Jia served as Minister of Revenue for less than three years before being assassinated in the farmland on the outskirts of the capital.

He never married or fathered children in his life, devoting his entire being to the state of Liang.

Upon hearing of Chen Jia's death, Shen Shuangning once shed tears for him.

Now seeing the past-life Minister Chen standing before her, Shen Shuangning's heart was tangled; she quickly reached out to support his arm.

"Sir, no need for excessive courtesy."

Chen Jia retreated in alarm: "My clothes are filthy; please don't soil the Fourth Miss's hands."

Chen Jia came from a humble background; to him, the duke's residence loomed like a towering mountain—just standing before the vermilion lacquer gate made him feel an invisible weight on his shoulders, his breath involuntarily lightening.

When Shen Shuangning spoke with him, he kept his head lowered, eyes fixed on his mud‑stained shoe tips, daring not to show the slightest offense.

The present Chen Jia is merely a commoner, holding no official post.

Seeing how nervous he was, Shen Shuangning said nothing, lifted her foot to inspect those potatoes.

She minded not the mud on the sacks, rolled up her sleeves, and picked up each potato to examine.

Chen Jia stared, stunned for a moment; this Fourth Miss seemed unlike the aristocratic young lady he had imagined.

Chen Jia glanced at the potatoes and couldn't help asking: "May I ask how the Fourth Miss discovered this treasure?"

This was the first time, since Shen Shuangning discovered potatoes, that anyone had called them a "treasure"—showing Chen Jia truly has a discerning eye.

Shen Shuangning casually replied: "I happened to see it in a book; I originally thought it was fake, never imagining it actually existed."

Chen Jia was honest and straightforward; he didn't doubt her words, only sighing that it was no wonder she came from a well‑off family—her channels for obtaining information are ten times broader than ordinary folk's.

He knew little about potatoes, and went on to ask Shen Shuangning a few more questions.

Sir, come in with me; let's sit and talk.

Chen Jia hadn't meant to enter the duke's mansion, but it wouldn't be proper to let the Fourth Miss stand here with him, so he nodded.

The few servants Shen Shuangning brought unloaded the potatoes from the cart and carried them into the duke's mansion.

Chen Jia followed properly behind Shen Shuangning, a few steps back.

Looking at the carved beams and painted rafters of the duke's mansion, Chen Jia's eyes held only astonishment, with no trace of envy or greed, merely appreciation.

Chen Jia being an outsider male, it was inconvenient to enter the inner quarters, so Shen Shuangning took him to the small flower hall in the main courtyard to discuss the upcoming matters.

When talk turned to farmland agriculture, Chen Jia's stiff shoulders suddenly relaxed, he rolled up his coarse sleeves, and it was as if he had opened a chatterbox.

A scorching light shone in his eyes, even the fine lines at the corners seemed to unfurl.

Shen Shuangning listened quietly, watching him speak fluently, and suddenly felt that the plain-clothed man before her was gradually merging with the memory of the official Chen who measured fields with his feet.

"Fourth Miss, I'll take responsibility for this matter; I will certainly not waste these potatoes." Chen Jia finally said.

Shen Shuangning gave a slight nod: "Then I'll trouble you, sir."

Upon hearing this, Chen Jia hastily waved his hand: "Fourth Miss, you're too polite; I have received the prince's favor, the prince ordered me to assist the Fourth Miss, I will naturally do my utmost. Moreover, if these potatoes truly yield five dan per mu, that would be a benefit to the state and the people!"

Chen Jia rubbed his palms, wishing he could shoulder a hoe and plunge straight into the fields right now.

This merit ought to have been Chen Jia's, but Shen Shuangning took it away; she felt somewhat uneasy.

But next year a great disaster will come, with countless starving corpses; she cannot wait for Chen Jia to appear.

Shen Shuangning pondered a moment, then rose and said: "Sir, first try planting at the Jiangting Farmstead; in a few days I'll write to my father, the Ministry of Personnel's Examination Office lacks a sixth-rank chief clerk, a position you are fit for."

Chen Jia, upon hearing this, his hand trembled: "Fourth Miss, this...."

"Sir, don't shirk; it's decided thus. Affairs that benefit the state and people, I, a mere woman, cannot accomplish, but you can."

Upon hearing this, Chen Jia no longer hesitated, and solemnly clasped his hands toward her.

Shen Shuangning, disregarding Chen Jia's obstruction, personally saw him to the gate.

Chen Jia's heart felt overwhelmed with favor; in just half a day, he had already been won over by this Fourth Miss before him.

"May I ask, sir, have you always been serving the prince?" Shen Shuangning asked, somewhat curious.

Chen Jia had long regarded the Fourth Miss as one of his own; without hesitation he said: "I suppose so, but Chen merely is an ordinary accounting clerk under the prince, with no great talent."

A flash of realization crossed Shen Shuangning's eyes.

It turns out Chen Jia has always been Xiao Jingyuan's man; it seems in his previous life Chen Jia could securely hold the position of Minister of Revenue, thanks to the support of the Prince of Yan's mansion.

One must admit, Xiao Jingyuan truly has a unique eye for recognizing and employing talent.

After bidding farewell to Shen Shuangning, Chen Jia went to the Guard Command and reported to his true master the content of his earlier discussion with Shen Shuangning at the duke's mansion.

Xiao Jingyuan sat behind the desk, observing that when Chen Jia mentioned the Fourth Miss, a rare light shone in his eyes.

Xiao Jingyuan lowered his gaze, playing with the bamboo slips on the desk, his knuckles tapping the inkstone's edge: "You certainly have plenty of praise for the Fourth Miss."

"With such vision and courage, even a man might not match her." Chen Jia praised without reserve.

When Chen Jia had just arrived, he had specially inquired about the Fourth Miss, and only then learned that not long ago, during the rampant snow disaster, the person who proposed using pumpkins for relief was actually her!

Chen Jia's eyes showed undisguised admiration.

As for Chen Jia, Xiao Jingyuan also understands him.

Only his near-obsessive fervor for the fields, while having no interest in anything else, has now made an exception for a young lady of the boudoir.

Shen Shuangning, you really do have talent.

Xiao Jingyuan gave a low laugh.

Chen Jia sighed: "I am but a fallen commoner; the Fourth Miss treats me with extra courtesy, whereas I once thought noble ladies were merely embroidered pillows; now I realize my own shallow vision. I am inferior to her."

"You say, for such an outstanding person as the Fourth Miss, what kind of man will she marry in the future?"

Xiao Jingyuan's smile froze at the corner of his mouth.