My Wife Came From A Thousand Years Ago

Chapter 166: Three Years of Skills

Modern harmonious living has only lasted a few short decades—not even a century. Yet, in those few decades, the world has undergone earth-shattering changes, creating a massive generational divide. Within three generations, each one finds fault with the others.

First, they claimed one generation was "finished." A few years later, they changed their tune, declaring the next generation as truly "finished." The cycle of who holds the dominant voice shifted so many times that before Xu Qing even realized it, his own generation—the one once labeled as "finished"—had gained the power to criticize. Now, the internet chatter revolved around how terrible the post-2000 generation was.

From idolizing Hong Kong and Taiwan celebrities to video games, mobile games, and livestreaming, the rapid pace of change made Xu Qing firmly believe in the importance of reading. Only through reading could people view things rationally, rather than be swept up in the vortex of the times, unable to see the bigger picture. Like Wu Zetian, who left an unmarked stele for future generations to judge her legacy, Xu Qing appreciated the wisdom of leaving history to assess one's actions.

At least one thing had come to fruition: Du Fu’s famous line, “Oh, to have ten thousand grand mansions sheltering the world’s poor, bringing smiles to all!” This was now a reality, with grand mansions in the form of high-rise buildings.

“Decades ago, there were still landlords. One of them hired a feng shui master to evaluate his estate. You know what a feng shui master is, right?” Xu Qing asked while washing dishes. Jiang He leaned against the door, watching him.

“I do.”

“The master walked around with his feng shui compass and declared, ‘This is incredible! Your property, nestled against the mountain and backed by water, will produce countless top scholars!’ The landlord was thrilled. Just one top scholar could bring glory for three generations. Producing countless scholars? That’s the stuff of dreams! His ancestors must’ve been grinning in their graves.

That high school in Jiang City was quite famous. Whether the story was true or not was uncertain, but the location had indeed been the site of a landlord’s grand courtyard. Jiang He understood the point of the story but didn’t find it particularly amusing. Instead, she found it fascinating.

“You were fiddling with those birth charts at home last time, saying you’d match ours. Did it work?” she asked.

“It didn’t. You don’t even know your own birthday, so how could I do a match?” Xu Qing dried his hands and tapped her lips lightly. “Stop believing everything you hear.”

Initially, he had planned to use the charts to tease Jiang He, claiming they were destined for each other. But then he realized she didn’t even remember her own birthday. He’d tossed the notes as soon as he noticed the flaw in his plan.

“I only believe what I want to believe,” Jiang He said softly.

“Oh~” Xu Qing replied with a smirk.

“Are you going to use up all these iron rings?”

Seeing Xu Qing about to use them to continue making something, Jiang He asked from her seat. She had an idea to weave a shopping basket using the rings. A metal basket would be sturdier than Aunt Cheng’s bamboo one. With some fabric lining, it would be easier to clean and more durable.

“Probably not enough. Why?” Xu Qing asked.

“To weave a basket.”

“A basket?” He pictured Jiang He carrying an iron basket to buy groceries and couldn’t help but admire her creativity.

“If there’s not enough, never mind…” Jiang He shook her head. Then, as if remembering something, she grabbed her phone from the computer desk.

“If I get some free time, I’ll make you one for fun, like a model piece. Just don’t take it outside.”

“No need!”

Jiang He’s response was curt.

Xu Qing didn’t mind. He thought a model basket would look nice as a storage container for small items like nail clippers, charging cables, and iron darts.

Two days later, when the delivery guy arrived, Xu Qing finally understood why Jiang He had said she didn’t need it. She had ordered a brand-new bamboo basket online. It was delivered along with the pajamas she’d recently purchased.

Whether she intentionally selected a local seller or it was coincidental, Xu Qing wasn’t sure. If it was deliberate, it spoke to a woman’s innate talent for such things.

“Does it look good?” Jiang He asked excitedly, holding up the basket on her arm, ready to head out grocery shopping.

A practical woman needed a proper shopping basket.

A sword? What was that compared to a good basket?

“I’m more curious if this fits,” Xu Qing said, unpacking the matching pajamas they’d bought—just one set for each of them. He figured by summer, when he’d move into the master bedroom, they could get a new set. One pair was enough for now, whether for pajamas or summer wear.

Girls, after all, should always dress beautifully.

Jiang He didn’t try on the pajamas right away in broad daylight. Xu Qing tossed them into the washing machine first. Even though they were new, the thought of how many people had touched them from factory to store to delivery unsettled him. It might have been a mild case of OCD, but it didn’t matter. By now, in April, the weather was warming up, and the thin pajamas could be washed in the morning and dried by afternoon.

The season’s willow catkins began to drift through the air. Luckily, Jiang City was a light-affected area, having been treated for it once. Now, the occasional flurry wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been in Xu Qing’s childhood. Back then, the catkins filled the air like snow, swirling in gusts of wind, and kids would run into the vortex, imagining themselves flying.

Though flying was no longer an option, the desire lingered. With Jiang He out grocery shopping, Xu Qing, bored at home, wandered to the residential complex’s activity area. There, he tested his jumping ability, bouncing around the court.

He wasn’t at the level of qinggong (lightness skill) yet—Jiang He’s martial arts tips were too cryptic—but purely relying on physical strength, he could jump over half a meter high and dunk with ease.

Letting go of the basketball hoop, Xu Qing glanced at a stunned kid clutching a basketball nearby.

“Hey, can I borrow your ball for a bit?”

The kid was Zhao Yu, Uncle Zhao’s grandson, who occasionally came here to play. While not very familiar, they knew each other. Xu Qing had even teased the kid a few times while chatting with Uncle Zhao at the guard post.

Zhao Yu hesitated, then lobbed the ball over. Xu Qing caught it, struck a pose, and sprinted a few steps before leaping.

Bang!

A perfect dunk.

“Learned how to slay dragons from a master, spent a fortune, mastered the art in three years, and now have no use for it,” Xu Qing muttered, shaking his head. Martial arts seemed only good for strengthening the body—and dunking for fun.

Too bad Jiang He couldn’t appreciate the coolness of a dunk.

“Can you fly?” Zhao Yu asked, wide-eyed. He had seen Xu Qing spring up effortlessly.

“Nope. That sister over there is the one who can fly.” Xu Qing pointed at Jiang He, who was cheerfully returning with her new shopping basket.

“I don’t believe it! You jumped so high just now!”

“Then I’ll do it again.”

Xu Qing took a few steps back, grinning at Jiang He. “Watch this!”

One step, two steps, three—jump!

Hanging off the basketball hoop with one hand, Xu Qing brushed back his imaginary bangs. “Cool, huh?”

“Hmm… not bad. Want me to take a picture for you?” Jiang He offered.

It turned out she could appreciate the coolness of a dunk. Xu Qing reflected on himself, then asked Zhao Yu, “Mind letting her have a turn?”

“Sure!”

“Go ahead and try it—just copy what I did.”

Handing over the basket, Xu Qing pulled out his phone, ready to snap some pictures of Jiang He.

For two martial artists, this was honestly a bit dull.

But Jiang He’s dunking form was genuinely impressive, leaving Zhao Yu slack-jawed, so stunned he didn’t even notice his basketball rolling away.

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