In the second year of the Baoyuan era, in Xidiandang Village.
It was the early spring of the second lunar month. Before the break of dawn, a vast expanse of white mist blanketed the green stubble of the rice seedlings in the paddies. Occasionally, a waterbird would dip its head to peck at food, its thin, cold legs propping up a body with drooping feathers.
Ji Ning emerged from the west room with a yawn. She broke off a section of willow branch, chewed the fibers open, and took a mouthful of water to begin carefully brushing her teeth.
The willow branch was bitter and the well water was freezing, shocking her groggy brain into alertness.
After washing her face, she went back inside to haul her younger siblings out of bed. Eight-year-old Feng-ge’er scrambled up at once, but three-year-old Lan-jie’er just rubbed her eyes and tried to burrow back into the covers.
The body Ji Ning had transmigrated into was ten years old, the third child in the family. Besides five children, her grandparents and parents were all alive and well.
She had been here for some time now and was just beginning to get used to the daily life of a nine-person household in the Great Song.
Since her older brother and sister were away, Ji Ning led Feng-ge’er in cleaning the house inside and out. Lan-jie’er followed them unsteadily, mimicking their movements with a small broom as she swept the ground.
The Ji family owned only three tile-roofed rooms. The grandparents lived in the main room. Usually, the children squeezed into one room together, but when the eldest brother and sister returned, the parents would each take some children into their respective rooms.
There wasn’t much to tidy inside. Although the Ji family was poor, they valued cleanliness. Even the youngest, Lan-jie’er, would follow her sister’s example, squatting in the courtyard to wash her hands and face until she was spotless.
The main work was in the courtyard.
The living space was small, so they had built several thatched sheds outside—one for storage, one for the kitchen, and one for the chickens.
Ji Ning swept the yard and fed the chickens and ducks. Then she organized the baskets, hampers, and carrying poles. Aside from those, there were her father’s goods.
Ji Ning’s father, Ji Song, was a peddler. In his spare time, he would shoulder his baskets and wander through streets and alleys selling small items like needles and thread. Though he was technically a businessman, his annual income was meager.
The Ji family had many mouths to feed but little income. The family owned fifty mu of land, which yielded about a hundred dan of grain in a year, assuming the weather was good and the harvest was bountiful. However, those hundred dan weren’t all for eating. Once the grain was harvested, they had to pay two seasons of taxes—the Summer Tax and the Autumn Tax. The Summer Tax consisted mainly of cash, cloth, or silk wadding, while the Autumn Tax was collected in grain. There were also many complicated miscellaneous taxes and the Poll Tax. Since Ji Song was the only adult male and worked as a peddler in his spare time, he inevitably couldn’t perform corvée labor and had to pay to be exempt. After deducting the family’s rations and the seeds for the following year, a whole year of hard work left them with only about ten dan of grain.
At this time, the price of a dan of grain fluctuated wildly between three hundred and six hundred wen.
This meant that after a year of back-breaking labor and deducting all expenses, the Ji family’s farming only netted them about three to five strings of cash.
Ji Song’s annual income as a peddler was around fifteen strings, more than half of which had to be set aside to restock his inventory.
Additionally, the eldest daughter, Ji Qing, was currently working as a maid in the household of Master Xu in town. She was under a temporary indenture; between her monthly wages and tips, she could earn six strings a year.
It might seem like a lot for a family to have over ten strings of surplus a year, but the family also had a “gold-swallowing beast.”
Ji Ning’s brother, Ji An, was studying in town at the government school. The Song Dynasty’s finances were robust, so government-run schools were inexpensive, costing only a few hundred wen for a year’s tuition. However, the cost of brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones, combined with daily living expenses, took up more than ten strings a year.
In short, Ji Ning’s family was very poor.
So poor that if even one person fell ill, it could ruin the entire household. Unluckily, when Ji Ning transmigrated, the original owner of the body happened to be sick. Caught in a downpour, she had developed a fever. Her mother had initially picked herbs from the mountain and boiled them for her to drink. Most people lived this way—seeing a doctor and buying medicine was too expensive, so they tried to endure it. If they didn’t get better after a couple of days, only then would they look for another way.
The original girl was sick for two days without improvement before her parents finally took her to see a barefoot doctor.
Sadly, after lingering on her sickbed for half a month, she passed away regardless.
While she was gone, the family had spent a significant amount of money on her illness, making their already impoverished situation even worse.
Ji Ning carefully scrubbed the clothes in her hands. Lan-jie’er squatted beside her, mimicking her movements, though she was so small that washing clothes was like playing to her, and both her sleeves were soaked.
Before she finished the basin of laundry, the courtyard gate creaked open. Ji Ning’s mother, Mrs. Wang, had returned, carrying a strip of pork belly and two blocks of tofu.
Lan-jie’er’s eyes lit up. She dropped the clothes and ran to her, staring hungrily at the meat in Mrs. Wang’s hand. “Mother! You bought meat!”
Her voice was loud. Feng-ge’er heard it from inside the house and ran out, drooling. “Meat! We’re eating meat!”
Never mind her siblings; even Ji Ning couldn’t help but swallow her saliva. In all the days since she had transmigrated, she hadn’t tasted meat once. Recently, the Ji family had been living frugally, eating only a bowl of bean porridge each per day. This so-called bean porridge was just a thin gruel made of small beans mixed with millet, barely enough to fill the stomach. Occasionally, Ji Ning and her siblings would share a steamed bun or a vegetable dumpling made of coarse grains that scraped the throat.
Never mind meat; they barely had vegetables!
Ji Ning realized in a second why they were having meat today—it was the day Ji An returned from school.
Her brother Ji An usually lived at the school in town and had a day off every ten days. Most of the time, however, he wouldn’t come home on his days off, instead seizing every chance to study or earn money by transcribing books at the town’s bookshops.
He only came home once a month, on the fifteenth. He would stay for one night and then hurry back. The last time he returned was when Ji Ning was sick; when the barefoot doctor’s medicine failed, he had taken Ji Ning to town to see a physician.
Mrs. Wang ignored her wide-eyed children, carried the meat into the kitchen to put it away carefully, then turned back out to help Ji Ning wash and hang the laundry.
Near noon, Ji Ning’s grandparents and father returned from the fields.
In the second month, the green shoots were emerging, and it would soon be time to plant the rice. The Ji family had plenty of small tasks to handle.
Ji Ning’s grandfather, Ji Shan, sat under the eaves knocking the dirt out of his shoes. Ji Song brought out his baskets to organize his goods, placing the heavy, durable, and hard-to-sell items at the bottom and the frequently used ones at the top. He didn’t have much stock—mostly needles, thread, and basic kitchenware.
After clearing the dirt from his shoes, Grandpa Ji lit his pipe and took two deep puffs. He glanced at Ji Ning, who was teaching Lan-jie’er to identify items, and asked Ji Song, “Why don’t we send Ning-jie’er to join Qing-jie’er?”
Ji Ning froze and looked back.
Ji Song didn’t even look up. “She just got over her illness and her body is still weak. How can we send her to work now?”
“How can she be that delicate? She’s been resting at home for half a month,” Grandpa Ji grumbled. “The family is dirt poor. Sending her away would save one person’s rations and earn some wages. The rice planting is about to start, and within two months of that, the Summer Tax will be due. We spent a lot to treat the girl’s illness, didn’t we? The house has no savings left. Taxes went up by twenty percent last year, and who knows if they’ll go up again this year…”
He sighed as he spoke, his dark, weathered face wrinkling further.
No matter what he said, Ji Song only replied, “Her health hasn’t recovered yet. She was still coughing last night.”
That one sentence made Ji Ning’s eyes prickle with tears.
She came from an era where food and drink were never a concern. Before, she could hardly imagine a situation where children were sold just to ensure the family could eat their fill.
What Grandpa Ji meant by “joining her sister” wasn’t a permanent indenture, but a temporary indenture. By comparison, her personal safety would be more guaranteed, and the masters couldn’t easily sell her off to someone else.
But even with a temporary indenture, Ji Ning didn’t want to do it.
It wasn’t that she feared hard work, but she felt the returns of being a maid were simply too low. Her sister Ji Qing worked almost the entire year without rest to earn six strings, and that was only because she had learned needlework from the manor’s embroiderers and had a skill to her name. A common maid doing heavy chores might earn three or four strings a year at most—and that wasn’t pure profit, as some had to be used for social obligations within the household.
This money was a drop in the bucket toward solving the Ji family’s crisis. Most importantly, even with a temporary indenture, she would have almost no personal freedom. Her brother Ji An could return once a month, but her sister Ji Qing could only ask for leave during major festivals like the Mid-Autumn Festival.
Under the constant gaze of others, even if Ji Ning wanted to do something to change her situation, it would be impossible.
She had to find another way to make money.
While the family members were lost in their own thoughts, a dejected-looking scholar appeared on the dirt road leading into the village. He wore a faded charcoal-colored lanshan robe and a matching futou cap. The book basket on his back looked heavy enough to crush him.
A villager spotted him and called out, “An-ge’er, you’re back?”
Ji An gave a muffled response.
The villager didn’t notice his troubled expression and chuckled, “No wonder your mother bought meat today. Hurry home.”
Ji An took a deep breath, his heart feeling even heavier. He couldn’t help but slow his pace, hesitating as he walked toward home at a snail’s crawl.
The courtyard gate was wide open. Ji An heard a familiar voice from inside: “Ji Lan! Don’t put everything in your mouth!”
The voice drew closer as three-year-old Ji Lan came stumbling out of the yard, clutching a pellet drum in her hand, looking back as she ran.
Ji Ning, who was chasing after her, caught her by the collar in one swift move. She ruthlessly snatched the drum away and pinched the girl’s cheek. “Not listening to your sister?”
Ji Lan flailed about, her eyes darting around until she spotted Ji An standing outside the gate. “Brother! Brother!”
Ji Ning followed her gaze and took a long look at Ji An. Her eyes fell on his greyish clothes, which were covered in dust and stains. His hands were clenched together, and he looked awkward and uneasy.
Ji Ning pretended not to notice his embarrassment and gave a small smile. “Eldest Brother is back.”
She set Ji Lan down and reached out to take Ji An’s book basket, but he turned slightly to refuse her. “It’s heavy.”
He patted both his sisters’ heads. “I brought some pastries for you both. Go inside.”
He entered the gate with his basket. Grandpa Ji was still sitting under the eaves. Seeing him enter, the old man’s voice softened slightly, but he brought up the old matter again. “An-ge’er, you’ve come back at the right time. Listen to this. The Summer Tax is coming, and the house doesn’t have a single copper. We’re in debt because of your sister’s illness. Your father and I are discussing sending Ning-jie’er to town to find work to ease the family’s burden.”
Ji An snapped his head up, his face full of sorrow and alarm.
This was the second time Grandpa Ji had suggested sending Ji Ning to town in front of the family’s men.
Ji Ning wasn’t stupid; she could hear where his leanings lay.
Strictly speaking, this body was already ten years old. According to the customs of the Song Dynasty, a girl of this age was already part of the family’s labor force. She was expected to help raise the younger siblings and work alongside the elders in spinning and weaving to meet the Summer Tax requirements. After a few years of labor at home, she would be married off to bear children and begin supporting a new family. Such was the cycle.
The original girl had spent the last few years raising her siblings. Now that she was ten, the choice between staying home or going out to work had become a difficult one.
It was also easy to understand why Grandpa Ji was asking the father and Ji An. After all, they were the men of the house, the decision-makers. Ji Song clearly disagreed, so he turned to Ji An. Ji An was the only one in the family who had studied, and in Grandpa Ji’s eyes, that made him wise in all things.
But Ji An’s mind wasn’t on that right now. His complexion was pale, and his lips trembled weakly as he spoke. “Grandpa, is the family out of money?”
Grandpa Ji sighed. “Isn’t it! We still owe your second uncle’s family two strings of cash.”
By right, the family should have had some surplus. Ji Song needed to run his trade, so he always set aside money to restock. But that money couldn’t be touched easily; once it was gone, Ji Song’s peddling business would collapse. It was a small business with thin margins; if the cycle broke, the large family would struggle even to feed themselves.
Thus, they had borrowed money for Ji Ning’s medical treatment. Since the Ji family had already split from the other branches, the money borrowed from the second uncle had to be repaid.
After hearing this, Ji An fell silent for a long time. Finally, he spoke with great difficulty, “Grandpa, how about… I stop going to school?”
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The story has begun, please add to your favorites~
The Qing Dynasty transmigration story requires too much research, so I’m starting this one first to relax. It’s light on research, set around the time of Emperor Renzong’s Qingli Reforms—though not many historical figures will appear; it’s mostly a background setting.