It was no surprise that the incident with Meng Huaishan being reprimanded spread quickly through the academy. Gossip isn’t just for villagers—scholars love to talk as well.
Studying could be tedious and boring. In teahouses or music halls, when three or five friends gathered, who could resist talking about the latest academy scandal?
In no time, Meng Huaishan was like a rat across the street—everyone wanted to avoid him. His social standing had suffered; those old friends who had once stuck close thanks to flattery or favors now deliberately avoided him.
You Po had given him some face—he hadn’t been kicked out of Nong Sang Hall entirely—but whenever the hall called for its members, Meng Huaishan always found an excuse, citing headaches or fevers to avoid showing up.
Within the academy, he was practically alone, hoping not to run into Du Heng.
Du Heng had thought the matter would end there, but unexpectedly, the fuss had made his paper-selling known to everyone in the academy.
On the surface, nothing changed—classes continued as usual—but at lunch or after class, students would come to Du Heng to ask about the price of paper.
Before long, Du Heng found himself carrying a stack of paper for fellow students every few days. His little business had opened a small door of opportunity.
Du Heng had initially worried about spreading word too far. No one had said selling paper in the academy was forbidden, but Master Xiang would certainly disapprove of students letting their minds wander to trivial pursuits outside of study. Publicly promoting his paper sales might only invite trouble.
Fortunately, the scholar who had bought the paper had a way with words. That day, his heartfelt expression of gratitude had not only won sympathy from fellow students but also immediately established Du Heng’s reputation as kind, helpful, and friendly.
Soon, not only did more students come to buy paper, but Master Xiang even praised Du Heng for assisting students in need, saying this was the proper conduct of academy fellows—forming bonds that could last into the future.
The academy now had two contrasting examples: harsh words toward fellow students versus friendly support. Du Heng felt he had truly benefited from the earlier misfortune.
Selling paper intermittently, he had a modest but steady income, and the end of the year passed smoothly.
Seeing that the family’s paper sold well, Qin Xiaoman spent the entire winter month leading Da Zhuang up the mountains, meticulously tending their private forest as if it were farmland, planning to grow more bamboo next year for papermaking.
By the beginning of the year, in February, the village’s annual agricultural and sericulture work had started, and the Qin family’s tasks slowed. They lent their oxen to hired farmers and rested from the labor of the past months.
When Old Li Wuwu returned to the village to visit his parents, he brought news about a shopfront for Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman.
On Yongfang Street, a small shop was available—either for rent or sale—at a reasonable price. Li Kai, acting as intermediary, knew both parties and offered to make the introduction while returning to the village.
Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman immediately went to inspect the shop. It was on the same street as Li’s teahouse, though smaller. Just a simple shop, no small courtyard in the back.
The drawback was that no one could live there or cook; otherwise, it was fine. The previous shop had been for general goods, but now that the business was changing, the small size had been a limitation, which was why it had remained unclaimed.
Aside from being a bit old, the shop had no other flaws. Nearly all the shops on Yongfang Street were like this, relics from before the county town expanded.
Since their family only dealt in paper, the small size didn’t matter. The couple quickly negotiated a price: five taels of silver per quarter, a fair deal.
Feeling it was reasonable, and with no one else to manage the family affairs, they decided to rent it. Du Heng went to the county office to handle the paperwork. Being a student and knowing some people there, all procedures went smoothly—no one held things up or asked for bribes.
While Du Heng ran the formalities, Qin Xiaoman was busy tidying the shop with Da Zhuang. They moved the remaining thirty or so stacks of paper from home into the shop.
Since they were opening a shop, they couldn’t sell only the paper. Before the new year, Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman had gone to the larger stationery stores to purchase inexpensive brushes, inkstones, and other writing tools.
Not being well-connected, they didn’t get the best prices, but selling a brush or a small block of ink would at least give the shop a complete display. That way, if someone came asking for something, there was at least something on the shelves.
With the full “Four Treasures of the Study” in place, Du Heng could confidently hang a sign: Qianli Little Stationery Shop.
The shop was small, selling items at modest prices—slightly cheaper than the larger bookstores in town—but for students from the academy and familiar villagers, they maintained the old, reasonable prices.
The opening was modest. On the 26th of February, they set off a string of firecrackers to mark the start of business. Only close family and friends knew.
Even though the opening was small, Qin Xiaoman lit the firecrackers, jumped around, and ran into the shop, hiding in Du Heng’s embrace. He covered her ears, and together they watched the red paper of the firecrackers scatter like falling flowers. Their joy was uncontainable.
In that instant, they felt they could already see a small, prosperous life awaiting them, even as ordinary people.
“Well, this is good. We’ll have another doorway to make our way through in the future.”
Qin Xiaozhu, heavily pregnant, sat in a chair in the little shop, observing the couple as they slowly reveled in their joy. She spoke like a proprietor.
“If only we could have a house in the county town too—that would be a proper place to settle down.”
Qin Xiaoman finished setting off the firecrackers and rolled up his sleeves. Ignoring Qin Xiaozhu’s tone, he said, “It will come eventually. Once the shop does well, we’ll save up and buy a proper courtyard in the county town.”
“Stop bragging. The house on Hehuan Lane isn’t even half the size of a village house, and it cost seventy or eighty taels of silver. If it weren’t for my father-in-law’s subsidy, Old Five’s savings wouldn’t have been enough to cover the shop’s expenses.”
Qin Xiaozhu counted on his fingers. “For people like us who run a small shop, it may seem like we’re making money, but really, it’s just a little more than the village farmers earn. At the end of the year, there’s barely anything left. We pay official fees, deal with those idlers, and on top of that, the big payments go to taxes—how much actually stays in our pockets?”
Qin Xiaoman knew Qin Xiaozhu was speaking the truth, but with the shop freshly opened, he still felt a lot of hopeful anticipation. After all, this was a big step forward.
He let out a breath and carefully wiped the counter, which had long since been cleaned, “If Du Heng turns out well and earns his degree, we won’t have to worry about taxes anymore.”
Qin Xiaozhu had nothing to argue against that—this was the real benefit of having a scholarly family.
“You still have hope because your family studies. If he passes and becomes a juren, you’ll never have to worry again.”
Qin Xiaoman hopped over to Qin Xiaozhu. “Isn’t Li Laosi also a scholar? He has a real chance too.”
Qin Xiaozhu rolled his eyes. “Families are split. Don’t expect anything. They look down on pure merchants like us, saying we have no scholarly air, yet no stink of coin either.”
In other words, they looked down on those who weren’t scholars, who did business but didn’t earn much.
Qin Xiaoman raised an eyebrow. No wonder the two brothers were settled in the county town, yet Qin Xiaozhu never went there. He had been busy preparing the paper shop.
Although they were brothers, Old Four had married early and settled in the county town, while Old Five spent most of his time traveling. Even when he returned, he stayed in the village. After marriage, it wasn’t unusual for brothers to be distant.
“I heard this year he’s going to the provincial exam. My sister-in-law said the preparation is perfect—this time he’s practically guaranteed.”
Qin Xiaozhu rolled his eyes again. “Just thinking about that arrogant look annoys me. Don’t be surprised if Du Heng passes and they don’t—next time we’ll see that fourth sister getting proud and smug!”
Hearing this, Qin Xiaoman’s opinion of the family soured further. Previously, he had felt neutral, and he had also heard from Old Master Zhou that Li Laosi’s father-in-law was a classmate of his.
“Our Du Heng is just testing the waters this time. I’m not expecting him to pass at the first try.”
“You may not expect it, but I bet you’ve secretly prayed and begged the gods. If he passes and they call him ‘Xiucai,’ you’ll look foolish if he doesn’t?”
Qin Xiaoman raised an eyebrow. He certainly knew whether it sounded good or not—but one couldn’t carry too many expectations outside.
“Enough. I’ve watched the fun here. I’ll go back to our shop.”
Qin Xiaoman watched him get up and walk under the eaves, just half a street away. He stood at the door and said, “I’m not going to walk you there.”
Qin Xiaozhu waved his hand.
Once Qin Xiaozhu left, Du Heng tidied the shop a bit.
This wasn’t a restaurant or tavern where people would swarm in as soon as the firecrackers went off. Their shop relied entirely on someone keeping watch during downtime.
There weren’t many customers; one person could handle everything easily.
“I’ll head back to the academy. With the provincial exam coming up, if two students aren’t in the classroom, the master is strict. Being late to class will really cost a hand-slap.”
Qin Xiaoman responded. His hands were well-shaped, and usually, apart from holding a brush for writing, they weren’t meant for punishment.
He urged, “Go on, hurry. I can manage alone.”
Du Heng nodded. He wanted to spend his day at the shop anyway. The opening day had been chosen according to the almanac—a lucky day—and since he couldn’t come on a regular day off, he had just come at noon, set off a firecracker, and left. It wasn’t troublesome.
From then on, Du Heng would come to the county town for study while Qin Xiaoman stayed to watch the shop. Together they went up and down the county town, keeping each other company.
On warm days, Shui Qincai even brought Chengyi to the shop. With Da Zhuang taking care of things at home, there was no need to tend the fields. Tasks previously handled by Da Zhuang, like cutting bamboo and managing ponds, now took priority.
At noon, Du Heng would eat with Qin Xiaoman, then return to the academy. After afternoon classes ended early, he would come back to the shop to continue studying. By dusk, they would close the shop and ride the cart back to the village, arriving home just as night fell.
This routine continued into April. With longer daylight hours, the county town prepared for the provincial exam.
Du Heng was in the academy already, and the pressure of the upcoming exam was much higher than the earlier junior exam. Many students would take it, especially from the lower ranks, increasing the competition.
Countless scholars stayed up all night by lamplight, revising. Rumors circulated about who studied late into the night and who wrote how many essays.
The junior exam was just an entry-level test. It wasn’t as strict as the provincial exam, and most candidates were older and experienced, having failed many times before.
With limited spots, the competition was inevitable. Even those who were normally calm felt nervous.
This was Du Heng’s first provincial exam since the junior exam. His previous results had been notable, so naturally, some expectations rested on him.
Still, although expectations were high, no one said much to add pressure. Passing on the first try was rare; this was merely testing the waters.
Qin Zhifeng had passed the junior exam young, with high family expectations, but it took six or seven years to become a Xiucai. After repeated failures, his family had relaxed their pressure. When he finally passed, they dared not say too much, lest they hinder him.
Qin Xiaoman was even more relaxed. He said to Du Heng, “Let alone that we have enough money for your studies for several years, the shop’s business is going okay. Supporting you for a few more years of exams isn’t a problem at all.”
Du Heng laughed at Qin Xiaoman’s words, smiling as he held little Chengyi close and kissed him. “If Daddy studies for a few more years, I’ll spend all your pocket money.”
The nine-month-old baby babbled back, trying to imitate his parents with simple words: “Die-die, Daddy…”
His wide, shiny black eyes seemed truly engaged in conversation with Du Heng. Overjoyed, he clenched his tiny fists and chewed on them with delight.
“That’s right, Daddy. You also need to call me ‘Little Daddy.’”
“Xiao Die…”
Du Heng kissed him again happily. Holding the plump little one and teaching him to speak brought more satisfaction than writing essays or reading books ever could. During these days of preparing for the exam, playing with the child was his only real joy.
“All right, come take a look. Do we have everything ready?”
Qin Xiaoman stepped forward and picked up the baby. Du Heng opened his trunk and checked their supplies. His usual pens, ink, paper, and inkstone were all there, of course. In addition to the exam materials, he had packed bedding, pillows, and some provisions.
The provincial exam was different from the county and prefectural exams. Although it only had two sessions and took just two days, passing it meant entering the ranks of the gentry. Naturally, the exam was much stricter than the earlier two, one-day tests. Once candidates entered the exam hall, the doors were locked and wouldn’t open until the test concluded.
For two full days and nights, all meals, drinking, and even bathroom needs were handled in the exam rooms. April weather could swing between hot and cold, so a thick bedding was necessary. Falling ill at the exam could easily ruin everything.
Even though the provincial exam occurred every two years, it wasn’t guaranteed annually. Young candidates could wait long, while older scholars often spent years preparing, and time wasted in between could not be regained.
Several days before the exam, Qin Zhiyan, knowing Du Heng would participate, had instructed Qin Zhifeng to deliver a message to him: stay at their house the night before the exam instead of an inn, and a carriage would be sent early to take him to the exam gates. Everything was arranged for convenience.
Unable to refuse their hospitality, Du Heng agreed. After preparing his exam materials at home, he went to Qin Zhiyan’s house to stay overnight.
At the fourth watch the next morning, Du Heng took the carriage provided by the Qin household and arrived early at the exam hall.
Just as he got out carrying his trunk, a servant helping him with the bedding alerted him to a commotion among the candidates outside.
A middle-aged man, tears streaming down his face, was being dragged out by the court officers. Four other scholars cried out, claiming injustice and accusing the man who had just been taken away.
“The provincial exam is a matter of utmost rigor! Attempting to cheat is a disgrace to scholars and an affront to this office!”
Du Heng looked up and noticed the county magistrate himself had come.
The previous night at Qin Zhiyan’s residence, he had heard that the Imperial Examiner had been sent to Qiuyang County to oversee the provincial exam. In recent years, Qiuyang County had experienced multiple cheating scandals, which had reached the attention of the prefect. This year, the Imperial Examiner was specially dispatched to supervise the county magistrate.
Even if the Imperial Examiner hadn’t said much, the neighboring counties—Qiuyang and Luoxia—were clearly meant to serve as a warning. The magistrate naturally took personal responsibility.
With the magistrate present, any wrongdoing was quickly uncovered.
Du Heng hadn’t seen the scene himself but was told by earlier candidates: the middle-aged man being dragged away was nearly forty, had repeatedly failed the provincial exam, and, desperate, had hidden cheat sheets inside his bamboo brush holder. The magistrate’s sharp eye caught him.
The man deserved punishment—he had wasted years failing to study properly and turned instead to deceit, unfair to the diligent scholars. Moreover, his actions implicated four other candidates who had pledged mutual accountability, a system where one person’s fault punished all.
The man’s chance at a future was ruined. The four others, though innocent, were barred from the exam this year. Fortunately, they would have future opportunities, but the man who caused the trouble would likely be a lifelong enemy to them.
Du Heng shook his head. All the candidates around were tense, knowing that even if they were upright, one dishonest partner could ruin them. Fortunately, his partners were fellow students from Bai Rong Academy. Not that all Bai Rong students were better in character, but they were familiar from class. Their teacher had repeatedly warned them that cheating would harm others, often worse than harming oneself.
After the cheating incident, inspections became stricter. Du Heng’s bamboo brush and ink stick were checked at the ends, and his bedding was aired and inspected as thoroughly as on a sunny day to remove any damp smell. No one dared complain even if items got dirty or damaged.
By the time he was settled in his exam room and completed the formalities, it was already daylight. The exam was about to begin.
Du Heng threw his bedding onto the narrow wooden bed, spread out his exam materials, and looked at the provisions. Unfortunately, the biscuits he had brought had been destroyed during inspection, the officers suspicious of hidden cheat sheets. He quickly bundled the remnants and moved on. Opening his trunk, he found the contents scattered. Luckily, they hadn’t stuck to the paper; otherwise, his essays would have smelled of flour.
There was no time to organize them. Soon, a series of wooden blocks signaled the start. A proctor walked down the hall, holding the exam placard, followed by two inspectors. Their eyes swept like hawks, scrutinizing both sides of the exam room.
The sound of paper and ink quickly filled the room. Du Heng hurriedly copied the exam questions onto his own paper.
This exam consisted of three questions, each a single, simple sentence drawn from the Four Books and Five Classics he had studied regularly.
Once the first question was announced, candidates didn’t pause to think before answering. Immediately, the next poem prompt appeared in the same way.
The candidates quickly copied it down.
Soon after, the wooden block was struck again—this time signaling that all the questions had been given.
Having finished copying them, Du Heng exhaled in relief. In modern exams, questions are placed directly on one’s own paper, but the previous two tests hadn’t been like this. The strict formality of the provincial exam made him realize just how much more rigorous it was.
This process of seeing the questions reminded him a little of a listening exam: if you missed something, it was gone.
Only this time, it wasn’t about hearing—it was about seeing.
Afterwards, he had time to carefully consider each question, first drafting a rough version, then copying a clean final version onto the exam sheet for submission.
In the April breeze, the exam hall was filled with the scent of spring flowers and fresh grass.
Some candidates found the fragrance soothing, easing their exam anxiety; others felt the chill of the late-winter winds biting their knees, as if a bucket of frigid winter water had been poured over them, dampening their youthful zeal for the exam.
Qin Xiaoman, standing at the counter of his own bookshop, gazed toward the county exam hall, uneasy.
No longer newlyweds, he didn’t feel the same longing as during the earlier county-level exam, but these past two days without seeing Du Heng, locked in that cramped, stuffy “turtle shell” of an exam room, weighed on him.
The weather had been fair these days, warm in the daytime, but nights brought chilly breezes. With no opportunity to move around, candidates sat stiffly through the exams, bodies soon cold and rigid.
Failing wouldn’t matter, but catching a cold during the test would be disastrous.
Qin Xiaoman spent the days at the shop distracted. Qin Xiaozhuo came by, noticed he wasn’t talking, and guessed he was worried about Du Heng. Finding him unamused, she didn’t say more.
A few scholars came in to buy paper and chat:
“This year, the county exam saw over a thousand candidates. Only about one in fifty are selected. Even in a small county like Luoxia, it’s astonishing. If the county and prefectural exams were this fierce, who knows what the provincial exam will be like?”
“More candidates this year for the provincial exam?”
Hearing them mention the provincial exam, Qin Xiaoman edged closer.
“Indeed. Two thousand entered the exam this year, compared with only fifteen hundred last time. Each time, only a few dozen are admitted. Sitting there in the exam hall, only one in dozens makes it—truly harsh.”
Qin Xiaoman opened his mouth in surprise, then closed it slowly. No wonder even talented scholars of the past hadn’t passed.
Knowing the pressure on his husband, he thought he’d better take him out for a proper meal once he was done. A successful exam meant they could afford a nice meal:
“You gentlemen are right—the imperial exams are not easy. Better buy plenty of paper, practice your writing, and prepare thoroughly. Only then can one stand out among all the candidates.”
“Thank you for your kind words, sir.”
After the scholars paid and left, Qin Xiaoman tilted his head toward Qin Xiaozhuo: “Which eatery in the county has the best food?”
“The one at the corner of West City. Their seasonal spring dishes are good, and the prices are fair. Usually very busy.”
“Let’s try it, then.”
“You’re so stingy, and yet willing to spend at a restaurant?”
Qin Xiaoman rolled his eyes. “I’ll meet Du Heng at the exam hall, and we’ll go together.”
Qin Xiaozhuo grimaced, then suddenly groaned: “My stomach hurts so much!”
Qin Xiaoman frowned, looking at her. “You’re not pretending, are you?”
“Pretend? It really hurts!”
“Ah?” Qin Xiaoman glanced at her and hurried over. “You’re not about to give birth, are you?”
“You’ve given birth before, so you wouldn’t know what it feels like?”
“That’s it! Quickly! I’ll go fetch Li Kai. We have to get home! And find a midwife!”