My Wife Came From A Thousand Years Ago

Chapter 133: Jiang He, the Nemesis of the Beggars' Sect

Xu Wenbin had spent half his life studying history, digging graves and excavating corpses—activities Xu Qing had no interest in. He preferred the living, especially those with soft little lips…

“Antiques?”

Qin Maocai almost burst into laughter. Liking antiques was just another way of saying he liked money. “Old Xu likes antiques because he enjoys research. You like them because—”

“I like research too,” Xu Qing interrupted confidently, giving Jiang He’s small hand a playful squeeze.

“Cough, fine, you like research too.”

Not that he could research anything worthwhile.

It took Jiang He a moment to realize what "antiques" referred to. Feeling the warmth of Xu Qing’s hand under the table, she suddenly understood that she was the one being “researched.” Quietly, she squeezed his hand back with force.

“Ah—”

“Nothing, nothing.”

They stayed at the Qin household for over half an hour, refilled their tea once, and then took their leave. Qin Maocai stayed in the living room for a while, flipping through TV channels before turning it off in boredom. He retreated to the balcony, lying back in his rocking chair.

The slanting sunlight of the afternoon illuminated the two figures exiting the building. Xu Qing glanced up briefly, and Qin Maocai waved his fan from the balcony. In the birdcage beside him, Xiongba lay quietly, keeping the old man company.

“I’m not an antique,” Jiang He declared.

She associated antiques with old pots and jars. She wasn’t old—she was young, far younger than Xu Qing, and just happened to end up in the modern era by chance.

“Then what are you?”

“I’m… a modern-tique,” Jiang He invented the term on the spot.

“You’ve even learned to crack jokes now.” Xu Qing let the topic of antiques slide. To him, Jiang He was just Jiang He. Aside from her strikingly bold movements, she was no different from an ordinary girl anymore.

He threaded his fingers through hers and gave her hand a swing. “You’re making great progress. Your reward is a kiss here.”

“Here?” Jiang He looked around cautiously. They hadn’t even left the residential complex. Under the bright daylight, she refused to do something so... shameless.

“Absolutely not. You’re just trying to trick me again.”

“I’m not tricking you; I’m just stating the truth.”

The afternoon stretched on, and since they were already out, neither was in a hurry to return. They decided to stroll around Xu Wenbin’s neighborhood.

For Jiang He, the concept of “strolling” was puzzling at first. Besides familiarizing her with the surroundings, it seemed to serve no other purpose. Xu Qing, however, enjoyed it thoroughly, calling it a couple’s activity.

Leaving the residential area and turning right, they reached a large intersection in about ten minutes. Locals called it the "Big Roundabout" because of its multiple intersecting roads, with a circular patch of greenery in the center. Vehicles had to navigate around it.

The roads here were wider than those near their home. Jiang He followed Xu Qing closely, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand while squinting at the traffic lights and surveillance cameras above.

“Are there blind spots?”

“What?” Xu Qing was caught off guard by her sudden question.

“The cameras—do they have blind spots? Like how a phone has a limited frame for photos.”

“They do… but very few. Any blind spots are likely covered by other cameras, so it’s hard to tell if it’s a true blind spot or not.” Xu Qing shifted his gaze from the traffic light to Jiang He’s curious face. “Why do you ask?”

“I just think it’s fascinating,” Jiang He replied, staring at the camera for a moment longer before looking around. “Sometimes it feels like a dream.”

“You dream about this?”

“No.”

Of course not. If she could dream about such things... Xu Qing wasn’t sure how he’d react.

Time travel was already shocking enough, but the world was full of oddities. He could barely adjust to having Jiang He around. If more strange phenomena occurred, he might start to doubt whether the world was falling apart or if they were all characters in a third-rate story.

After crossing the street, Jiang He tightened her grip on Xu Qing’s hand as if she had something to say. Glancing at the passersby, she waited until they had some privacy before leaning closer to him. In a low voice, she asked, “Is that person a beggar?”

Following her gaze, Xu Qing saw a filthy figure sitting under an advertisement board. Wrapped in a thick, dirty blanket, the person was bent over with their head buried. In front of them was a plastic container with a few scattered bills.

“Uh… probably.”

“What do you mean, probably?” Jiang He was confused.

Based on her observations and Xu Qing’s explanations, this place seemed to provide enough opportunities for anyone willing to work. Beggars shouldn’t exist—unless...

She glanced back nervously.

“Did your time have a Beggars’ Gang?” Xu Qing asked curiously, thinking of the legendary Chief Qiao and Hong Qigong from Wuxia novels.

“Beggars are just beggars—what gangs?” Jiang He shook her head, frowning in thought. “But I’ve heard that in wealthier areas, beggars might compete for territory and form groups to exclude outsiders...”

Uncertain about the accuracy of her knowledge, she quickly changed the subject. “Is that person part of a gang?”

“No idea. Beggars have always existed because of natural disasters and human tragedies. When life improves, fake beggars become more common.”

“Fake beggars?”

“There’s a saying: ‘Poverty breeds cunning, wealth fosters conscience.’ With more kind-hearted people around, some lazy scoundrels pose as beggars to exploit sympathy, raking in money during the day and living better than us at night,” Xu Qing explained, glancing back at the beggar. “So I said ‘probably’—they might be fake. Who knows?”

“That’s complicated.” Jiang He took a moment to process before exhaling in relief. “I thought people without status would…”

“Get picked up as brides?”

“…”

Jiang He had little sympathy to spare for beggars. Her own situation was precarious—living as a guest and constantly pondering how to sustain herself. If she were to help, it’d be by sparing a bun from her own breakfast for those truly starving. But the beggar they saw didn’t qualify, judging by the cash in their container, which equaled her earnings from days of labor.

“If you feel sorry for them, we could buy some buns to give them. But no money—it’s better not to watch them eat, either. Someone else might’ve just fed them,” Xu Qing said with a chuckle.

“No need. With all that money in their bowl, they can buy their own food if they’re hungry.”

“You noticed that much?”

“As a martial artist, good eyesight is essential. From here, I could hit their container with a dart,” Jiang He said confidently, estimating the distance.

“Why would you break their container?”

“I wouldn’t! It’s just an example.”

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