BDSMST -Chapter 66 The General Takes to the Fields — A Clumsy First Day

After the sky had fully brightened, the estate slowly came to life.

Smoke curled up from the kitchen chimney. The boys, yawning, carried wooden basins to the well in the courtyard, washing up while laughing and splashing each other. The entire manor was filled with the vibrant energy of daily life.

Gu Yan practiced a set of military boxing in the courtyard, a routine tempered through years in the army. After completing the set, his muscles stretched loose, and the stale air in his chest was fully expelled with each breath. He forcibly suppressed the fatigue of a sleepless night in this way.

Breakfast was as simple as ever—mixed-grain porridge, white steamed buns, and a small plate of pickled vegetables.

The atmosphere at the table was slightly better than the previous evening. At least the boys were no longer as stiff and restrained when they saw him. Wei Ziqian even dared to come closer and ask him questions about the battles on the northern frontier.

Gu Yan answered concisely. The boys listened with shining eyes, practically itching to rush off to the battlefield to earn glory for themselves.

Jiang Suisui ate quietly, neither joining their conversation nor stopping it.

After breakfast, she set down her bowl and chopsticks and addressed the boys, who were preparing to return to their rooms.

“Your task today is to turn over all the soil in Greenhouses Three and Four, then apply base fertilizer according to Mr. Shen’s instructions. The work isn’t heavy, but you must be careful.”

“Got it!” the boys responded in unison. Grabbing the farming tools stacked in the corner, they rushed off toward the greenhouses in a lively wave.

Gu Xuan followed among them. Before leaving, he glanced back at Gu Yan. His lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to say something—but in the end, he said nothing and ran off.

Watching his son’s small retreating figure, Gu Yan felt an indescribable pang in his chest.

At that moment, Jiang Suisui placed a hoe and a pair of burlap gloves in front of him.

“Your task today is the same as theirs, Marquis,” she said, her tone as matter-of-fact as ever. “We can’t have you idling around the estate alone.”

Gu Yan looked at the farming tool—familiar, yet utterly unfamiliar—and fell silent.

If last night’s firewood chopping could still be comforted as “exercising the muscles,” then today, following a group of half-grown boys into the fields to turn soil and apply fertilizer…

This was beyond his understanding.

“I…” He wanted to say that he was the commander of an army. His duty was to strategize and oversee the big picture—not to do these… menial tasks meant for the lowest-ranking soldiers.

But the words stopped at his lips.

Because after speaking, Jiang Suisui had already picked up a smaller hoe for herself, put on her gloves, and walked toward the greenhouse.

If a marquis’s wife could personally work the fields, what excuse did he, a grown man, have to refuse?

Gu Yan took a deep breath, picked up the hoe, and followed.

Inside the winter greenhouse, it felt like spring.

A scent mixed with rich soil and fresh plants greeted him. The sight before him once again stirred a sense of novelty. Rows of neatly planned ridges stretched out before him, irrigation channels had been dug alongside them, and in one corner lay piles of fermented organic fertilizer. Everything was orderly, scientific, and well-planned.

The boys were already hard at work. They worked in pairs—one in front turning the soil with a hoe, the other behind breaking up clods with a rake. Their movements were not perfectly standard, but their coordination was smooth, and their efficiency was far from low.

“Marquis, join our group!” Qian Duoduo called warmly when he saw Gu Yan enter.

Gu Yan nodded and walked to a patch of untouched soil. Rolling up his sleeves, he gripped the hoe, copying the posture of the others.

In his mind, turning soil was simple enough—just dig it up and flip it over. Surely that was far easier than wielding a blade on the battlefield.

He focused his breath, powered from his waist, muscles in his arms swelling tight, pouring the strength honed over years—strength capable of splitting stone—into the hoe.

“Hah!”

With a low shout, the hoe cut through the air with fierce force and smashed down into the soil.

Thud.

A dull, heavy sound followed.

The hoe sank deep into the earth, leaving almost nothing but the handle exposed.

Silence fell instantly.

Everyone stopped working and stared at the scene, dumbfounded.

Even Gu Yan was stunned. He felt as though that single strike had shattered the very bones of the earth.

He pulled hard, trying to yank the hoe free.

But it seemed to have grown roots in the ground—utterly unmoving.

“Pfft—”

No one knew who burst out laughing first.

In the next instant, the entire greenhouse erupted into roaring laughter.

“Hahahaha! Marquis, are you turning the soil or driving in a pile?” Wei Ziqian laughed the hardest, clutching his stomach, tears almost streaming down his face.

“Marquis, if you used that strength to build houses, you could put up three in a day!” Li Rui chimed in.

There was little malice in the boys’ laughter—more pure amusement than anything else.

But Gu Yan’s handsome face flushed red all the way to his ears.

This was the first time in his life he had embarrassed himself so thoroughly in front of so many people.

In that moment, the pitiful scrap of dignity he possessed as a general felt completely shattered by these brats’ laughter.

Grinding his teeth, he exerted force again, both arms straining with all his might.

“Up… for me!”

With a low roar, he finally yanked the deeply embedded hoe out of the ground.

Along with it came a massive, hardened clod of earth—larger than a human head.

The boys’ laughter only grew louder.

Gu Yan’s face was now so red it looked ready to bleed. He wished he could dig a hole right there with the hoe and bury himself inside.

Just then, Jiang Suisui walked over.

She did not laugh. She merely looked at him calmly and said, “Turning soil isn’t about brute force. The hoe should enter the ground at an angle. Use leverage to pry the soil up, instead of smashing straight down with all your strength.”

As she spoke, she demonstrated herself.

Her strength was not great; her movements even looked light and effortless. Yet in her hands, the hoe seemed to come alive. Each time it fell, it easily lifted a patch of loosened soil. Each time it rose, it did so without strain. In just a few motions, a section of land had been turned soft and even.

“Try again,” she said, handing the hoe back to Gu Yan.

Gu Yan looked at her, then at the hoe in his own hands, which seemed to weigh a thousand jin. A swirl of emotions filled his chest.

He took it, adjusted his posture and angle as she had instructed, and swung again.

This time, it felt completely different.

The hoe sliced easily into the soil. With a light twist of his wrist, a clod of moderate size flipped over. Though his movements were still stiff and far from Jiang Suisui’s smooth fluidity, at least he no longer looked like he was “driving piles” into the ground.

Seeing this, the boys quieted and gathered around.

“Marquis, you’re using your strength wrong!”

“Relax your wrist! Use your waist!”

They began chattering all at once, enthusiastically “instructing” the clumsy general.

Gu Yan’s face flushed red, then pale, then red again. In his thirty years of life, this was the first time he had been treated like a fool who knew nothing, taught by a bunch of half-grown boys.

And yet, he couldn’t refute them.

Because when it came to turning soil, he truly was a complete fool.

The entire morning, Gu Yan wrestled with the hoe in his hands and the earth beneath his feet. His padded winter robe was long soaked through with sweat and smeared with mud. His arms ached, and his lower back felt stiff and sore.

He felt as though even the most brutal siege battle he had fought could not compare.

Near noon, they finally stopped.

Gu Yan dragged his exhausted body aside, tossed down the hoe, and dropped heavily onto the edge of the field, panting for breath.

He looked at the “results” of his morning’s work—the uneven patch of land he had turned, full of dips and ridges—and then at the boys’ sections beside it, smooth and evenly loosened. A wave of overwhelming helplessness surged within him.

He, Gu Yan, Marquis of Yongning—who on the battlefield could command thousands of troops and determine victory from miles away—

Yet here, on this small plot of land, he could not even wield a hoe properly.

For the first time, he felt a deep and unsettling doubt about himself.