BDSMST -Chapter 45 The Sudden Visit of the Old Marquis and His Wife

In late autumn, Woniu Village was bright and clear.

At Jiang Suisui’s estate, the scene was one of bustling activity. Shen Qinghe’s arrival acted like a precise gear, driving the entire estate to operate efficiently.

The farmhands were divided into groups, each responsible for different tasks. Some managed composting, others dug irrigation channels, and under Shen Qinghe’s guidance, some carefully built grass shelters on the shady slopes to cultivate mushrooms.

Gu Xuan remained the “overall supervisor,” but now he was more like an overseer inspecting the worksite. He no longer had to do everything himself; instead, he focused on coordinating the groups and… learning from Shen Qinghe the knowledge he had never encountered before.

He realized that this seemingly weak scholar had far more knowledge than he had imagined. Shen Qinghe could not only handle accounts and planning, but he also understood weather patterns and soil conditions. Though Gu Xuan didn’t admit it aloud, in his heart, he already regarded Shen Qinghe as half a teacher.

That afternoon, the sun was just right. Along the dirt road leading to the estate—now compacted from carts and cattle—a simple carriage slowly approached.

The carriage was unremarkable: black body, green cloth curtains, no family crest. The horses were ordinary and far less impressive than the high-stepping steeds used by noble families like the Duke of the State’s estate.

The carriage stopped at the gate, and the driver jumped down, respectfully setting down the footstool.

A strong, steady hand lifted the curtain, and Marquis Gu Yuan of Yongning, the old marquis, stepped down. Today he wore a dark gray everyday robe, hair neatly combed. His face remained stern, but the harshness in his brows had softened considerably.

Shortly after, the old madam, assisted by Uncle Fu, also stepped down. She was simply dressed, but her eyes, scanning everywhere, revealed an unmistakable eagerness and anticipation.

“Uncle Fu, are you sure it’s here?” the old marquis asked, surveying the estate, which was completely different from what he had imagined.

Gone were the crumbling walls and muddy roads. In their place were newly built two-meter-high blue-brick walls and a neatly paved stone road at the entrance. Within the walls, orderly fields and rows of newly built houses were visible. The air carried a mix of soil, grass, and livestock, full of life and vitality.

“Yes, Old Marquis. This is it,” Uncle Fu replied with a hint of emotion. He had only been away for a little over two months, yet the transformation was staggering.

“Should we have someone announce our arrival first?” the old madam hesitated. Coming uninvited might be too abrupt.

“No need,” the old marquis waved his hand, lightly tapping his cane on the ground. “I want to see it myself—without preparation. What is it really like here? And what is Xuan’er like?”

He felt a surge of determination. Uncle Fu’s description, Xuan’er’s letters from the capital, the persistent requests from the old nobles to buy the estate—all of it felt distant, like behind a veil. He needed to see it with his own eyes and touch it with his own hands to believe it was real.

The three did not enter through the main gate but walked along the wall to the side of the estate.

Soon, they saw the newly cultivated terraced fields on the eastern side. The ridges were neat, irrigation channels well-defined, and the winter wheat they had just planted had sprouted fine green shoots, forming a thin green carpet in the sunlight.

The old marquis, having once commanded soldiers to farm in his youth, was not ignorant about agriculture. With just one glance, he recognized that these terraces were crafted by someone skilled. Both the slopes and the water-soil management were impeccable.

“This… this was really done by those youngsters?” the old marquis asked in disbelief.

Uncle Fu whispered beside him, “Old master, I heard it was Madam Jiang who invited a skilled expert to assist.”

They continued southward and came upon a large fish pond spanning several acres. The water was clear, and a group of adolescent boys were being guided by an elder farmer, weaving protective bamboo fences along the edge.

They worked and joked loudly, teasing each other.

“Qian Duoduo, what are you tying there? Pig trotters? Master Shen said to use a slip knot—do you even know how?”

“Wei Ziqian, shut up! If you’re so capable, come and do it yourself! All talk, no skill!”

“I’m not competing with you. This task has the lowest work points. I need to go learn trap-making from Master Shen this afternoon!”

The old madam immediately spotted among the group the dark-skinned but energetic Wei Ziqian. She searched again but could not see the grandson she most wanted to find.

“Where’s Xuan’er? Why isn’t he here?” she asked anxiously.

Uncle Fu’s eyes lit up, and he pointed deeper into the estate, toward a row of newly built houses emitting a distinctive scent.

“Old Marquis, Old Madam, listen.”

The two focused and indeed heard, from that direction, familiar yet unfamiliar excited youthful voices:

“Steady! Steady! The head’s out!”

“Quick! Get the warm water and towels ready! Uncle Zhang, push harder!”

The old marquis and marquise exchanged strange looks, both seeing in each other’s eyes a deep confusion. The content of the shouts… sounded so… unusual.

With their curiosity mounting, they quickened their pace toward the source of the voices.

As they approached, the air grew heavy with the distinctive scent of straw and livestock waste.

Uncle Fu led the way carefully, bypassing a half-human-high compost pit, and finally stopped in front of a spacious, bright new pigsty.

“Old Marquis… Old Madam,” Uncle Fu’s voice wavered slightly, “it seems the young master… is inside.”

The couple stood at the pigsty’s entrance, listening to their grandson’s strong, commanding voice inside—and the grunts of sows giving birth. For a moment, they were unsure whether they should step in.