Chapter 458: Day 23 into the Farming Story

Chapter 458: The Twenty-Third Day of Transmigrating into a Farming Novel

The small packet of tiny seeds lay quietly buried within, awaiting the call of the coming year.

By next year... by this world's reckoning, this body of his would be nineteen years old.

In this world, a young man of this age who had not yet married would be considered "late."

Recently, quite a few warm-hearted neighbors and familiar customers from the bookshop had been tactfully inquiring about his marriage prospects, dropping hints left and right about playing matchmaker. An Yi politely but firmly declined every single one.

As for Di Qingji...

Thinking of that escort whose heart had grown increasingly "delicate" of late, the corners of An Yi's lips curved up without him even realizing it.

That guy—with everyone prying into his marriage prospects—had been getting genuinely worked up lately.

He could see the guy's feelings for him, but Di Qingji still insisted on playing it cool. An Yi would sometimes deliberately play along, leaning hard into the "good friends" angle, and watch the frustration and disappointment simmer in Di Qingji's eyes—without him daring to say a word. Honestly, it was hilarious.

An Yi let out a low chuckle and shook his head.

Doing the math, Di Qingji had been gone fifteen days now on his escort job down south.

Before leaving, he'd made a point of stopping by the bookshop to tell An Yi where he was headed, the general route, and when he expected to be back—just like he'd done on every trip for the past six months. It was a routine by now.

He'd said he'd be back in about thirteen days.

But here it was, already the morning of day fifteen.

An Yi got up early as usual, washed his face, grabbed a quick breakfast, and was about to head out the door to the bookshop.

When he slid back the bolt on the courtyard gate and pushed it open with a creak, he saw a familiar tall figure standing outside.

Di Qingji was bundled in a heavy cotton cloak, with fine white frost clinging to the edges of his hood and shoulders, and his hair and eyebrows damp with dew from the night air.

He'd clearly been standing out there a while—his breath puffing out in white clouds in the cold air.

He looked dead tired from the long haul, with faint shadows under his eyes—but the second he laid eyes on An Yi, all that exhaustion seemed to melt away.

"An Yi," he spoke. "I'm back."

An Yi stepped aside to let him in, a note of curiosity in his voice: "Come in. Why so early?" Judging by all the frost on him, he must have ridden through the night to get back.

Di Qingji stepped inside, reached back to leave the gate ajar, set down the small bundle from his shoulder, and brushed the frost off his cloak with a smile: "Mm, after turning in the job at the escort agency and changing, I just... wanted to come see you."

But the truth was, he'd actually gotten back to the escort agency with the goods cart in the dead of night.

After wrapping up the cargo and paperwork, without even washing his face, he'd somehow found himself walking to An Yi's alley.

The sky was still dark, everything dead quiet, with only cold moonlight and a few scattered lights.

He stood at the mouth of the alley, staring at An Yi's shut gate and dark, silent window, feeling a deep sense of belonging and a desperate ache to see him.

He stood there for a good long while—about the time it takes two sticks of incense to burn—until the cold sank into his bones, and only then did it hit him how much he must look like... like some lovesick idiot.

He was scared of waking An Yi, and even more scared that being this eager would come off as annoying, so he forced himself to head back to the agency, tossed and turned for less than an hour, then jumped up, washed, got dressed, and hurried over to knock on the door right before An Yi usually left.

An Yi looked at his temples, damp from the morning frost, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he teased lightly: "Oh really? That eager to see me? Now that's what I call a true best friend—so devoted and full of feeling."

Di Qingji's smile froze for a split second, then gave way to a frustration he couldn't quite put into words.

He didn't want to be just some "best friend"!

What he wanted was way more than "friend"!

But he didn't dare say it, so he swallowed it down, the words turning into a faint bitterness tangled up with the happiness of seeing An Yi, leaving his expression a mess of mixed feelings.

An Yi caught that flash of stiffness and frustration and couldn't hold back a laugh.

Di Qingji watched An Yi's eyes crinkle with laughter, and the frustration in his chest weirdly faded, replaced by a flicker of doubt.

He mulled it over—had An Yi... maybe already picked up on his feelings? Was that why he kept teasing him so lightly? But he couldn't find any real proof.

An Yi had always been warm and easygoing, seemingly the same with everyone. Maybe that special closeness was just his own imagination and wishful thinking?

But An Yi was sharp, and he hadn't exactly been subtle. So did An Yi... know or not?

An Yi stopped laughing, his eyes landing on the wooden box Di Qingji had set on the table when he came in.

"What's this?" An Yi walked over, running his fingertips over the cool lid. "For me?"

Di Qingji snapped back to attention, a smile spreading across his face. "Mm, a present I brought for you."

He added, "I think you're gonna love it."

"Oh?" An Yi raised an eyebrow, motioning for him to open it.

Di Qingji stepped up, undid the simple brass clasps on either side, and lifted the lid.

Inside sat a neat stack of books.

The books were a mix of conditions—some had battered covers with yellowed pages peeking out, others were in better shape but still old, and a few had been rebound with rough thread, clearly patched up.

"On the way, when I stopped in towns to rest, I ran into a stall selling old books."

Di Qingji pointed at the books. "I saw these and figured they were pretty old, given the paper and ink. Looked like they had some history. I thought, since you run a bookshop and like collecting all kinds of old texts, you might be into them, so I bought the whole lot."

"The seller was an old scholar from a family that had fallen on hard times. He really treasured these books—only sold them because he had to."

An Yi's interest was definitely piqued.

He picked up the top book and flipped through it, then skimmed a few more underneath—a partial poetry collection, an obscure medical casebook, and a hand-copied fragment on frontier customs... Sure enough, several were things he hadn't managed to collect in this world yet.

"How is it?" Di Qingji watched An Yi's face.

An Yi closed the scroll in his hand, looked up, met Di Qingji's eyes, and broke into a happy smile. "It's great. I really like it, Qing Ji. Thanks for going to all this trouble."

Di Qingji's grin stretched wide, looking a little goofy. "Don't be so formal with me! As long as you like it!"

He knew it—An Yi loved books. He'd picked the right gift!