My Wife Came From A Thousand Years Ago

Chapter 146: The Boss’s Last Name Is Not Wang

The surging river waters framed a bustling scene as Qin Hao and his colleague, both tending to an incident, stood beside a community officer clad in their uniform. The memory of six months ago flashed by—when Qin Hao was merely a greenhorn during Xu Qing’s brawl. Now, he was a fully-fledged officer.

“Good thing it’s not freezing anymore,” Qin Hao remarked, “or else jumping in would cramp your limbs, and you’d be a goner.”

“Exactly, exactly!” The fisherman, drenched and clutching a broken fishing rod, nodded fervently, clearly shaken by his close call. Being near the shore saved him; otherwise, his life might’ve been reset in a blink.

A small crowd of six or seven anglers surrounded them, all equipped with fishing gear, except for Xu Qing and his companion, who stood empty-handed with their hands in their pockets, wandering around leisurely.

Noticing Xu Qing among the spectators, Qin Hao paused mid-sentence, pocketed his notepad, and asked the fisherman, “Where’s your home? Want me to give you a ride back?”

“No, no, no need! Don’t trouble yourself!” The fisherman declined hastily. “You sure?”

“Imagine being sent home by a police car just because of a fishing trip…” Visualizing the scene, the fisherman shook his head vigorously, then scurried off, muttering his thanks as he went.

Qin Hao chuckled as he turned to the other anglers and said, “Stay safe out here!”

“Saving a life is worth more than building a seven-story pagoda,” Xu Qing teased, giving a thumbs up.

“Saving who?” Qin Hao scoffed, wringing water from his pant leg. “I didn’t even go in. Just gave him a hand.”

“How come you’re here?” Qin Hao asked as he wrung out more water, droplets pattering to the ground.

“Just out for a stroll.”

“You’re something else, always having time to watch the fun.”

“Of course! People love a good spectacle. Too bad I got here late.”

“Alright, enough chit-chat. I need to change my shoes and get back to work,” Qin Hao said, stepping heavily on the ground to squeeze out water from his shoes. Each step left a squelching footprint.

“When’s your shift over?” Xu Qing asked.

“Should be…” Qin Hao suddenly clamped a hand over his mouth. “I don’t know. We’ll see.”

He almost jinxed it—saying he had nothing going on would surely mean a busy shift just before clocking out.

“See that? A true public servant,” Xu Qing whispered to Jiang He as Qin Hao walked away. “They’ll handle anything—catching cats, dogs… Last time we ran into that big black dog, we called them, and they came with gear to catch it.”

Jiang He nodded as she watched Qin Hao’s retreating figure. “They deal with a lot.”

“Yeah, they really do.” Xu Qing couldn’t tell if her serious tone was praise or critique. Probably praise… If Qin Hao had this job in ancient times, he’d probably be sanctified.

As Qin Hao continued walking, his pace slowed. He turned to inspect a broken sapling nearby. Its top half was gone, and new sprouts had begun to emerge. The break seemed recent.

“Strange,” he muttered. “The wind wasn’t that strong, and the nearby trees are fine. A car couldn’t have hit it—it’s too far from the road.”

“What’s up?” Xu Qing followed, hands still in his pockets.

“Just wondering. Who damages a tree for no reason? No moral sense.”

“Maybe one of the anglers. They don’t like leaving empty-handed. Might’ve taken half the tree home.”

“Cut a tree in half? Show me how!” Qin Hao gave him a “don’t-be-an-idiot” look.

“Not me. Anglers are skilled—they can do anything, including martial arts.”

Xu Qing glanced at Jiang He, who remained indifferent, examining trees on either side as if she had nothing to do with it.

Qin Hao couldn’t fathom that the petite Jiang He had snapped the tree with a shoulder bump. The missing top half? Who knows who dragged it away.

Xu Qing touched the stump once Qin Hao left, looked around, then approached another tree. After a stretch, he rammed his shoulder into it.

Thud!

“You trying to break it?”

“No, just testing.” Rubbing his sore shoulder, Xu Qing admitted defeat. “Not a human feat. Even with two more years of practice, no way.”

Back home, Jiang He fiddled with a fishing rod she’d stashed in the corner. Placing it prominently, she declared, “Next time, I won’t forget it.”

“You really like fishing?” Xu Qing asked, watching from the side.

“This rod works well. If I catch a big fish, I can sell it.”

“Planning to be a fisherwoman?” Xu Qing opened his computer and showed her a video of modern trawlers hauling in nets bursting with fish. The catch rained down in heaps.

“…”

Jiang He abandoned the idea of becoming a fisherwoman and stopped speaking to him, wandering off to browse online.

“You guys didn’t use nets back then?” Xu Qing asked, his curiosity piqued.

“We used spears.”

“Oh… Couldn’t you just spear fish with a branch?” He considered the possibility of grilling fish during a wilderness outing with Jiang He.

“No. The water’s too muddy and fast here.”

“…”

“Back then, the water was clear, and you could see the fish. Here, even shallow spots are murky,” Jiang He lamented. “If we had a big net and boat, we could fish once and eat for years.”

“They’d spoil.”

“Then salt them.”

“You have that much salt? Oh, right—you’re from the Yan Gang.”

Xu Qing recalled reading about the Yan Gang, which seemed like a rebellious group. “Hey, was your boss surnamed Wang?”

“No,” Jiang He replied, puzzled. “Why?”

“In the late Tang Dynasty, there was a salt gang led by Wang Xianzhi. He started as an illicit salt trader, then gathered followers and rebelled. It’d be funny if he were your leader’s descendant.”

Jiang He thought about this rebellious figure a century her junior. Interested, she typed “Wang Xianzhi” into the search bar with a single finger. After a moment, she turned and asked, “Who’s Xu Fengnian?”

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