Chapter 12: Saving the Strawberry Seedlings

## Chapter 12: Rescuing the Strawberry Plants

The rain poured down, heavy and urgent, unlike the gentle spring showers before. For many newly planted crops, this was likely a disaster.

Once Hu Sheng decided to stay, the blush behind Zhao An's ears faded, and his mind cleared. He began to worry about the strawberries in the small outdoor orchard, his most vital source of livelihood.

Truth be told, strawberry vines, once established, are not easily killed. However, his small orchard was merely a shallow layer of soil piled atop stone slabs. Rainwater collected there like in a bucket, and prolonged soaking would cause the strawberry roots to rot.

With his supernatural abilities, the worst outcome could be averted. Yet, if the strawberry plants themselves were damaged, he could, at best, keep them alive. Producing strawberries by tomorrow would be utterly impossible. Not only would he breach his contract with Ruyi Restaurant, but he certainly couldn't deliver the portion promised to Hu Sheng.

While Hu Sheng was in his room changing, Zhao An donned his newly purchased straw rain cape and rushed into the yard to assess the situation. As expected, the crude little orchard was already submerged. Muddy water seeped from between the stones, but its outflow was far slower than the relentless downpour.

After a moment in the yard, Zhao An decided to build a rain shelter for his small orchard. Hai Bo and Qin Tong, understanding the strawberries' importance, immediately grasped Zhao An's plan. Qin Tong swiftly grabbed one of the household's two bamboo hats and hurried out to assist.

They took half a roll of hemp cloth, leftover from making shoe soles, and tied it to bamboo poles used for drying clothes, fashioning a simple square canopy. However, as soon as they positioned it over the strawberry seedlings, the torrential rain battered it, knocking it askew.

Seeing this, Zhao An quickly called Qin Tong to help move the collapsing shelter away, preventing it from falling and damaging the strawberry plants.

Qin Tong, wearing only a bamboo hat and no rain cape, was thoroughly soaked except for his hair. The spring chill had intensified under the rain's onslaught. While Zhao An was lost in thought, Qin Tong shivered, hugging his arms tightly.

Noticing this, Zhao An momentarily forgot about the strawberries and quickly pulled Qin Tong back under the eaves. "Go change your clothes and drink a bowl of brown sugar water." In this era, a cold could be fatal.

Hai Bo, who had been anxiously watching them from under the eaves, now urged Qin Tong to change and then helped Zhao An remove his straw rain cape to check if he was wet.

Fortunately, though cumbersome, the rain cape offered robust protection. Zhao An had also rolled up his sleeves beforehand, so apart from the inevitably damp hem, the rest of his clothes remained dry.

Relieved, Hai Bo suggested, "Why not bring the strawberry seedlings inside for now?"

He had witnessed Zhao An use his powers multiple times and knew he could revive uprooted seedlings, hence his suggestion.

Zhao An conceded this was the only option. He would have to break his promise to Ruyi Restaurant about delivering strawberries tomorrow. Moreover, given the intensity of the rain, even if it stopped by morning, the roads would undoubtedly be impassable with mud.

Having made his decision, he was about to ask Hai Bo to help him put the rain cape back on so he could dig up all the strawberry seedlings. Unnoticed, Hu Sheng, moving silently, had already emerged from the room and stood under the eaves for some time.

He took the rain cape from Hai Bo, preparing to put it on. "In this heavy rain, a shelter made with a few bamboo poles won't hold. You need to nail the cloth to the wall."

Zhao An observed Hu Sheng, now clad in a new blue bamboo-fiber, round-necked robe he had made. The fabric stretched taut across Hu Sheng’s chest and shoulders. Though their heights differed by only two or three centimeters, Zhao An’s clothes seemed too small on him, creating a strangely alluring effect.

But Zhao An quickly banished thoughts of Hu Sheng's physique from his mind and raised a hand to stop him from putting on the rain cape. "But we don't have any nails."

Iron nails were valuable at this time. Without an urgent need, Zhao An hadn't thought to buy any.

"I'll find a way," Hu Sheng said, taking the bamboo hat from Hai Bo and putting it on before stepping into the rain.

Through the dark, rain-lashed night, he went to the eaves on the other side of the wall where firewood was stored. Selecting a sturdy wooden stick, he returned to the yard where the bamboo poles had fallen and retrieved the hemp cloth.

Zhao An watched as Hu Sheng pulled out a dagger that glinted coldly even in the dim light. With swift movements, he carved the wooden stick into several wedges. Then, picking up a pebble from the orchard's edge, he carried the hemp cloth to the wall. With a light tap, he drove a wedge into the brick wall’s crevice.

He hammered four wedges into the wall and two into the cracks of the bluestone pavement. Like setting up a tent, he stretched the hemp cloth diagonally between the wall and the ground, securing it.

Once this tent-like structure was in place, a small amount of rainwater might still drip through the gaps in the cloth, but most would flow down the slope, eliminating the threat to the strawberry seedlings.

Hu Sheng finished all this in no time—so quickly that Qin Tong hadn’t even finished changing his clothes. He returned to the eaves, took off the hat and rain cape, and hung them on the wall. "This shelter doesn’t need to be taken down. It can be used again the next time it rains."

But Zhao An’s focus had clearly shifted from the shelter. With a mix of surprise and anticipation, he asked, "Do you know martial arts?"

Though wooden wedges could be used in construction or furniture, driving them into a brick wall was nearly impossible. Especially since the wooden stick wasn’t made of high-quality material, and Hu Sheng’s actions seemed almost effortless.

Facing Zhao An’s expectant gaze, Hu Sheng unconsciously straightened his posture and said, "I only learned some rudimentary martial arts in the army. I’m just born with strength."

He didn't mention that his innate strength surpassed even those who had practiced internal energy cultivation for decades.

Hearing that Hu Sheng knew martial arts, Zhao An was already considering learning from him. When he learned Hu Sheng had trained in the army, he asked, "Are you a soldier? Why are you here?"

Hu Sheng fell silent for a moment, then suddenly thought of a way to dissuade Zhao An’s budding interest. He revealed his situation: "I once served as an assistant commander in the border army. Later, I offended a superior and was reassigned to the Jiazhou commander as a low-ranking squad leader. Dissatisfied, I took a few of my men and fled into the Daqing Mountains to become a bandit leader."

Zhao An looked at Hu Sheng’s face and demeanor, finding it hard to imagine him as a bandit leader.

When reading novels, he never understood how protagonists could overlook the evils committed by antagonists or morally corrupt male leads. But upon learning that the person he was interested in was a bandit leader, he found himself finding reasons to justify Hu Sheng's actions, believing he must have had no other choice.

Yet, he couldn’t entirely overcome his reservations and pressed further, "Have you ever robbed commoners?"

Hu Sheng had initially felt somewhat uneasy, but seeing Zhao An’s expressive reactions, he couldn’t help but feel amused. After a long silence, watching Zhao An grow increasingly anxious, he finally said, "No."

"What about rich landowners?" Zhao An followed up.

"Not them either," Hu Sheng answered truthfully.

"Then traveling merchants or pedestrians?" Zhao An asked, recalling that most bandits targeted merchant caravans while leaving local farmers unharmed—sometimes even protecting them. It was akin to later-era gangs collecting protection fees, acting as unofficial rulers.

Hu Sheng finally laughed and said, "I have few men. Occasionally raiding other bandit forts is enough to sustain us."

Zhao An breathed a sigh of relief but grew concerned again. "Are there many strongholds around here?"

Neither his original memories nor the book’s descriptions had mentioned bandits in the Shu region near Jiazhou.

Hu Sheng’s answer, however, surprised him greatly: "Throughout the Xu Dynasty, where is there no banditry? The borders have mounted bandits, the Jiangnan region has water bandits, and here in the southwest, the most formidable aren’t mountain bandits but the Yao and Miao villages deep in the mountains. They occasionally engage in killing and plundering, and if the court pushes their chieftains too far, they rebel." (The Yao and Miao are ethnic minority groups in China.)

Rebellions by the Yao and Miao seemed to span the entire feudal era. Though less memorable than Japanese pirates or nomadic tribes from the grasslands, classical literature often depicted such conflicts.

"The solution is simple: improve everyone’s living conditions. The same applies to nomadic tribes. But for these ‘wolves,’ they must first be subdued before they can be tamed."

Having lived through an information explosion, Zhao An had a relatively clear perspective on these issues and couldn’t help but voice his thoughts.

After listening, Hu Sheng smiled and nodded. "There’s some truth to what you say. Unfortunately, neither of us is in power. Moreover, the grudges between us and the Yao and Miao aren’t easily resolved."

Noble-born generals who would kill innocent civilians for merit would show no mercy to ethnic minorities. The resulting hatred would take decades of conciliatory policies to ease, even for just one generation.

And the court would never implement decades of conciliatory policies just to win over these remote mountain villages.

Hai Bo saw the two chatting under the eaves, seemingly discussing matters of the world, and didn’t disturb them. Only when Qin Tong boiled water and prepared a pot of brown sugar ginger tea did he call them in to drink a bowl to fight off the chill.

After drinking tea, it was already late. They used the remaining hot water to wash their feet, and it was time to sleep.

Zhao An led Hu Sheng to his room. "We don’t have an extra bed, but Hai Bo brought new quilts. We can each use one and sleep head to foot. That should be fine, right?"

After speaking, he quickly climbed into bed and wrapped himself tightly in his quilt. Sharing a bed so soon felt awkward, even if it was strictly for sleeping.

**Author’s Note:**

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