Chapter 84

This year marked Du Heng’s first New Year celebration in the county. When he had lived in the village, he would always remark on how convenient it was for town-dwellers to buy New Year goods. Now that he was a town resident, both he and Qin Xiaoman wanted to celebrate a lively, joyful festival and began preparations early.

On the twenty-first, the household servants purchased plenty of decorations.

Door curtains and paper-cuttings were affixed, red lanterns and festive silk banners were hung. The previously quiet winter garden instantly took on a festive air.

Du Heng also had a good supply of firecrackers purchased, ready to liven up the New Year atmosphere.

In past years, as the New Year approached, Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman would collect their New Year goods. Though there were still days before the New Year’s Eve, the county was already bustling with people and vendors.

The sound of firecrackers echoed through the streets. Children ran about, lighting small firecrackers to pop in puddles or broken pots by the roadside, laughing and playing joyfully.

They had heard that from Little New Year onward, the county would lift its curfew, allowing firecrackers to be set off late into the night.

Unlike the sparsely populated countryside, the town’s close quarters meant that when one household finished, another began, keeping the streets lively without pause.

On the morning of the twenty-fourth, Qin Xiaoman dressed Chengyi in a small red jacket decorated with white rabbit embroidery.

It was the New Year; the child needed new clothes.

The little one emerged from his warm bed, eyes still sleepy, pliant as a soft, boneless fish as Qin Xiaoman adjusted his new shoes.

Chengyi had inherited Du Heng’s pale complexion, delicate and fair from birth. Because he rarely moved and was quiet, he sometimes seemed a little weak.

Yet the red-toned clothing brightened his complexion, making his black, wet eyes shine. He looked warm and lively, almost like a New Year picture doll.

“Daddy, can I go to the gate and watch the other children set off firecrackers?” Chengyi asked, wiggling his little feet as Qin Xiaoman helped him with his shoes.

The county had grown livelier lately, and more children were out than usual. Yesterday, when he went out with his father, he had seen many children playing together. This morning, even before leaving his bed, he had already heard the distant crackle of firecrackers.

Children naturally love to play, enjoy excitement, and like to be with peers.

Qin Xiaoman replied, “Yes, but don’t wander too far.”

Having grown up running freely in the mountains and forests, he would not restrict his own child.

Poor little Chengyi had been mostly kept within the household; in the countryside, he could once go out a little, but he had been too young to understand much. Back then, a simple rattle could occupy him for hours.

Now, a rattle or small colorful ball felt boring, and though he had lived in the county for months, he still had no playmates of his own age.

It was true that Qin Xiaozhu’s younger cousin sometimes came over, but he was still a year younger than Chengyi—barely two years old—and far too little to really play together.

Chengyi nodded happily. “I’ll just watch from the gate. I won’t go anywhere else.”

Qin Xiaoman ruffled Chengyi’s hair and said, “Alright,” then led the child to have breakfast before telling Shui Qincai to take him out to the alley to play for a while.

Qin Xiaoman still had New Year obligations to attend to. Now that they had settled in the county, social interactions were far more complicated than in the village; even casually giving a small gift of meat strips would be considered courteous. Two baskets of eggs and a single duck weren’t enough for all the exchanges.

He had to plan the gifts, make lists, and distribute them to different households. Gifts came and went in return, keeping the social rhythm going.

Du Heng had also left early without breakfast. His new shop was just opening, and while he had only been testing sales, word had already spread. With the year-end rush, many people came to rent tables and hire cooks. Staff were insufficient, so he had to handle preparations early.

Chengyi had finished a large bowl of porridge and, holding Shui Qincai’s hand, hopped all the way to the gate. Though it was still early, the morning mist enveloped the streets, and the air was anything but quiet.

Fujixi Lane was home to wealthy families, so the alley was wider than usual, with a small garden at the front. By now, mischievous children had begun setting off firecrackers and throwing them into the drainage ditches to make splashes.

“Young master, do you want to play with the other children? I can go buy firecrackers for you,” Shui Qincai asked, ready to take Chengyi out.

Chengyi shook his head. “I’ll just watch from the front steps.”

He knew he was too slow to keep up with the other kids. If he ran into the alley and a firecracker went off, he wouldn’t escape in time and might get burned or splashed. Watching from the gate was enough to make him happy.

Shui Qincai let him be. Seeing Chengyi stand under the eaves without moving, he brought a small stool from the gatehouse. Chengyi sat on it, his face propped in his hands, watching the children dash about.

Not long after, a young maid came running, fussing about where the kitchen items were placed, and asked Shui Qincai for help.

“You watch young master here, Yi Yan. I need to check the kitchen.”

Shui Qincai knew Chengyi wouldn’t wander off, but he couldn’t leave him unattended. He glanced around and finally fixed his eyes on Yi Yan, standing at the gatehouse like a wooden post, his expression cold.

“Alright,” Yi Yan said.

He was a new long-term worker who answered directly to Master Du. Usually stern and quiet, he rarely spoke with anyone. The household servants feared him, yet he was actually straightforward and easy to follow.

Shui Qincai thanked him and reminded Chengyi to behave before heading off.

Chengyi glanced at Yi Yan. The boy always had a stern face and rarely spoke when he first arrived. At first, Chengyi thought he might be mute. Poor thing, he had worried about him for a long time—until one day he saw Yi Yan talking with his father at the table.

Chengyi had little interaction with Yi Yan, so he was still shy and didn’t dare speak.

Yi Yan, watching the little one who could be lifted with one hand yet held four squirming limbs, couldn’t tell what Chengyi was thinking. But he was harmless and remarkably cute, reminding Yi Yan of Du Heng cradling the limp little one in his arms. Du Heng clearly adored him.

Yi Yan adopted the same concerned manner as Du Heng. “Do you want some water?”

Chengyi had just finished a big bowl of porridge and didn’t want water at all. Seeing Yi Yan, with his expressionless, slightly intimidating face, he definitely didn’t want him to bring any. He shook his head nervously, thinking Yi Yan was asking about medicine rather than water.

Yi Yan thought the little one was a handful but didn’t fuss as long as he didn’t cry. He stayed silently by the gate, like part of the building.

Chengyi sat on the stool for a while, watching the little boys run east and west. To him, it wasn’t boring at all.

Eventually, a chubby little boy noticed the new face at the gate. Holding a small rounded ball, he approached and looked at Chengyi, whose rosy, delicate features drew attention.

“Why do you keep staring at us? Do you want to play with us?”

Chengyi pursed his lips and said nothing.

The chubby boy, frustrated by the silence, shouted at his friends. In their alley games, he usually got his way.

“If you don’t want to play with us, we’ll go to the garden up front and won’t let you watch.”

Chengyi said softly, “I can’t run.”

“Yun Duo, don’t make him play with us. He looks clumsy; he’ll fall and cry.”

Another chubby boy tugged him along, saying, “Let’s go splash in the ditch.”

The children crowded around, then ran off.

Chengyi lowered his gaze, feeling a little dejected.

Yi Yan noticed and furrowed his brows.

“Do you want me to bring them back so you can play too?”

Chengyi’s eyes widened. “But they’re kids, not chicks. Can you… bring them over?”

Yi Yan didn’t answer, stepping down from the stairs.

“Ahhh! Bad guy! Don’t hug me!”

A chorus of loud cries rang out.

The chubby boy called Yun Duo had just been grabbed by Yi Yan, lifted effortlessly under one arm, and Yi Yan casually snatched another chubby boy under the other.

The rest of the children, seeing their “little boss” taken away, immediately ran after Yi Yan.

Chengyi hurriedly stood up from the stool, startled and flustered, not knowing what to do. He could only watch with wide eyes as Yi Yan approached, the other children trailing behind.

The chubby boy struggled and kicked. “Let me down! I want down!”

“Yi Yan, what are you doing!”

Du Heng had just returned from outside. He had barely stepped down from the carriage when he saw Yi Yan holding one crying chubby boy and carrying another—like a child-snatching villain.

Yi Yan looked at Du Heng and stated plainly, “Bring them over so young master can play.”

“……”

Du Heng quickly stepped forward to release the two boys. “This is not how you play!”

Seeing the two chubby boys still wailing, Du Heng pulled out some fruits to pacify them. They sniffled, took the treats, and ran off.

Du Heng was exasperated. “If I’d come back a little later, these households would have accused us of stealing children!”

Yi Yan looked puzzled. “There are crying little ones all over the street. Who would bother stealing them?”

“……”

Du Heng picked up little Chengyi and groaned. “How are you supposed to raise your own children one day?”

Yi Yan’s face grew colder; he had never considered such a problem.

Du Heng called out for the servants to follow, walking and lecturing as he went: “Children can play together if they want, but you cannot force them. Even though they’re small and noisy, they’re not cats or dogs you can just grab and take home.”

He rambled on with a scholarly tone.

Yi Yan remained expressionless, not sure if he had absorbed a word.

Chengyi covered his ears. “Daddy talks so much today.”

“You have to listen too, or you’ll learn bad habits from Brother Yi Yan,” Du Heng said.

Chengyi pursed his lips. “I know, I was wrong.”

Du Heng glanced at Yi Yan. “And you?”

Yi Yan hesitated for a moment but then nodded.

As they were about to enter the main hall, a young servant came running: “Master, someone from Registrar Qin’s household sent word for you and Madam to come over.”

Du Heng’s brow furrowed. The family had planned to go for a reunion meal on the twenty-eighth, so why summon them early?

“Did they say what it’s about?”

“Seems that young master Qin got injured,” the servant replied.

Du Heng exclaimed, “What?!”

Rushing with Qin Xiaoman, they arrived at the Qin household just as the doctor was leaving.

“What happened?!”

Qin Zhiyan, seeing them, quickly explained. “Early this morning, Feng went to the village. The roads outside the city were muddy, the horse slipped into a hidden ditch, and the carriage overturned into the water.”

Du Heng’s heart sank.

“Is he alright?!”

Qin Zhiyan sighed. “The doctor says a bone is injured. He cannot walk. Right in the middle of the New Year, such misfortune strikes.”

Though it had snowed the previous month, the rain hadn’t stopped, leaving the roads muddy up to the ankles. Du Heng recalled the hardships he had endured back in the village, but back then he had been careful.

The immediate concern wasn’t the accident itself but the upcoming Spring Examination. Even if he were escorted to the capital, the exam rules didn’t allow anyone with an injury or disability to sit.

Inside, Qin Zhifeng’s wife had already cried, and Zhou Wanqing’s eyes were red.

“I don’t mind so much, but please, you and Xiaoman run over for me,” Qin Zhifeng said from the bed.

His face was pale, likely from the shock and blood loss from the leg injury.

“Don’t worry. I once injured my leg and limped for a while, and I turned out fine,” he added, trying to reassure them.

“I trust the doctor, but injuries take time to heal. I’ll probably miss this Spring Examination. It’s alright, though; with Xianlan about to give birth, it’s better I stay home to accompany her.”

Though he seemed philosophical, any scholar would feel the sting of regret. His family knew that missing the exam was not their concern—they only feared Qin Zhifeng might despair.

Du Heng glanced at Qin Zhiyan, who understood and motioned Zhou Wanqing and the young wife to step out. “Let the cousins talk. You’ve all got red eyes; wash your faces. Don’t make it seem like misfortune struck the house during the New Year.”

Once alone with Qin Zhifeng, Du Heng said, “Cousin, relax. Passing the provincial exam now is not too late. There will be other opportunities.”

“Your classmates have advised me. The Spring Examination this year might not go as smoothly as usual. The court is unsettled. Missing this one isn’t the end of the world.”

Qin Zhifeng frowned but understood Du Heng wasn’t joking.

“Even passing the provincial exam is no small feat. The metropolitan exam gathers the top talents. I wasn’t fully prepared, and I used this time to study more. Even if I went, I might not succeed. Many try year after year without success. This exam is just another chance,” Qin Zhifeng said, fully aware of the reality: attending but failing was different from not being able to attend at all.

Du Heng’s words, however, did give Qin Zhifeng a slight sense of relief.

Du Heng sat on a stool by the bed. “Yes, that’s right.”

Qin Zhifeng said, “It’s just a pity I cannot accompany you this time. It would have been a comfort to have someone to watch over you.”

Du Heng let out a self-deprecating chuckle. “Cousin, you’re afraid there’ll be no more opportunities later, aren’t you?”

A small smile curved Qin Zhifeng’s lips. “Don’t speak such discouraging words. Your writing and scholarship have room to flourish. From past examination lists, many top scorers came from provincial exams. You’ve progressed steadily, already ahead of the pack. This time, there’s every reason for hope.”

After some further conversation, Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman returned to their own home to have lunch.

On the carriage ride, Qin Xiaoman sighed. “There aren’t many candidates from the county heading to the capital. I had hoped having your cousin with you would ease your worries, but now it’s just you alone. There’ll be no one to look after you along the way.”

“No matter. Once I reach the prefectural city, there will be more candidates. Besides, I’ll take Yi Yan with me—what is there to worry about?”

Qin Xiaoman nodded. “I just hope cousin takes care of himself. This timing is truly unfortunate.”

After the Lantern Festival, with Du Heng alone going to take the exam, Qin Xiaoman advised him to set off early.

It would take about half a month to reach the capital from the county, and any delays along the way could stretch the journey further.

The capital was completely unfamiliar, and based on prior experience traveling to the prefectural city for exams, it was necessary to secure lodging in advance and familiarize oneself with the surroundings.

She had also heard of candidates from remote areas who, rushing to the capital, fell ill from the change in climate and missed their exams.

So it was best to arrive early; being late was simply unacceptable.

From the fifteenth onward, Du Heng began packing, preparing to depart at the end of the month.

The weather was still harsh in early spring, colder than in Luoxia County. In the capital during February and March, the climate would likely be similar to Luoxia County, but the Spring Examination journey remained arduous—cold weather combined with long travel, and the need to carry many belongings.

Du Heng planned to bring extra silver for expenses. Items like bedding for the tribute examination would be purchased upon arrival in the capital, securing them conveniently for exam use without carrying them back and forth unnecessarily.

From home, he only needed to take clothing, books, and writing materials.

“Take these with you too,” Qin Xiaoman said, arranging Du Heng’s book trunk and slipping in two notebooks. “It’ll save you trouble in an unfamiliar place.”

Du Heng’s eyes widened. “You packed these along when moving the house?”

“What? The old ones got wrinkled on the bed, so I threw them out. These are new.”

Du Heng put down his brush and walked over. “New? How come I didn’t know about them?”

Qin Xiaoman shrugged. “Qin Xiaozhu gave them to me. That boy has all sorts of useless things; I just stuffed them in the trunk. They’re of no use for now, so why not?”

Du Heng took out the notebooks, hesitant to take them along.

“What’s wrong?”

His ears tinged red. “I… think it’s a bit embarrassing.”

Qin Xiaoman raised her eyebrows. “Still so particular. Don’t want them? Then leave them.”

Even keeping things minimal, they still packed a large trunk.

Chengyi, watching the household bustle with preparations, understood that Du Heng was leaving again.

The little boy stood in the house, observing the two adults busy, saying nothing but frowning, his mood subdued.

He slouched over the table, his round eyes wide, looking like a forlorn little kitten abandoned by the roadside.

“Daddy, will you be gone as long as last time?”

Du Heng picked up the little boy. “This time it may be even longer. We’re going farther than last time.”

Chengyi hugged Du Heng’s neck, pressing his face tightly against him. “But I don’t want you to go at all.”

Du Heng comforted him, “Daddy also doesn’t want to leave you, but if I don’t go, we won’t be able to buy the crab pastry, layered cake, and pea pudding you like… and many other treats.”

He added, “Besides, little daddy has another little one in his belly. When they’re born, they’ll need plenty of tasty food just like you.”

Chengyi wanted to say he could eat less sweet cake, but his little brother was so tiny he couldn’t skip treats—he needed them to grow.

“While I’m away, you must take good care of little daddy,” Du Heng said.

Chengyi nodded. “I know.”

Du Heng set off on the twenty-eighth day of the first month, riding in the small village carriage, taking only Yi Yan.

Traveling light and low-profile, the journey would traverse mountains and long roads, avoiding unnecessary attention from thieves. The path to the capital for the exam was far longer and less safe than heading to the prefectural city.

Early on the twenty-eighth, a fine drizzle fell. It was almost the hour of Mao, still dawn but not fully light.

Qin Xiaoman held the umbrella, sending Du Heng out of the alley and urging him on. He wasn’t being harsh—Chengyi, now older, was more clingy than before, having learned from last time. Hearing that Du Heng was leaving again made him even more reluctant.

Chengyi, still half asleep, had tears glistening in his eyes, his nose red from crying, tugging at anyone who approached.

To avoid prolonging their sadness, this early departure was the only choice.

Watching the carriage disappear into the gray, rainy mist, Qin Xiaoman lingered at the alley entrance, rubbing his shoulders against the cold wind, letting out a small sigh. He had no idea how long it would be before this separation for the examination would end.