When someone shouted, “He definitely will not pass!”, the others immediately echoed the same words in unison.
Ji Mingzhu finally let out a breath, though he looked even weaker than before.
None of them lingered any longer. Instead of heading straight home, they took a detour to accompany Ji Mingzhu to a medical clinic. Only after the physician confirmed that he would be fine and wrote a prescription did they each return to their own homes.
Everything at home had already been prepared. Once back, Xie Yan had half a bowl of thin rice porridge, then went to soak in a bath and wash his hair.
Lu Yang brought fresh clothes and came over to scrub his back and wash his hair for him.
The weather had turned cold, and Lu Yang moved quickly and efficiently, not letting him soak for too long.
As soon as Xie Yan sank into the hot water, he became drowsy. He barely managed a few murmured words before drifting off, and every indistinct whisper was just one name: “Jingzhi.”
After washing, Lu Yang dried him off, helped him into clean clothes, and brought him inside to eat.
Uncle Lei had heated a copper basin, warming the entire room. Several people helped dry their hair.
Xie Yan could hardly keep his eyes open. Half asleep and swaying as if he might collapse at any moment, he let Lu Yang feed him a few spoonfuls of food. Lu Yang apologized to Wu Pingzhi with a smile, saying, “Please excuse us,” before helping Xie Yan back to the bedroom.
Someone was already waiting in the room to give Xie Yan a massage. Lu Yang had Xie Yan lie face down while he continued to comb through his hair with his fingers, letting it dry a bit more.
Since Xie Yan had just eaten, they only massaged his shoulders, arms, and legs, leaving his back untouched.
He truly was exhausted. All he could do was lean toward Lu Yang, crying out softly in pain one moment and sighing in relief the next, his eyes too heavy to open.
After about a quarter of an hour, Lu Yang dismissed the attendants and tucked Xie Yan into the blankets.
Xie Yan grabbed his hand and murmured an apology.
“You’re tired too, and I’m still making you take care of me. I’m not a good husband…”
Lu Yang lowered his head and kissed him, gently patting his arm again and again. Then he began reciting the Thousand Character Classic once more, softly lulling him to sleep.
Afterward, Lu Yang went outside to wash up. There he saw Wu Pingzhi lying in the courtyard.
Wu Pingzhi was stretched out on a rocking chair with a quilt over him, quietly gazing up at the moon.
Lu Yang glanced up at the sky.
Tonight was the Mid-Autumn Festival, and the moon was perfectly round.
Wu Pingzhi said to him, “You’re Xie Yan’s weakness. If you hadn’t come to accompany him during the exams, he could have held out until tomorrow without a problem.”
Lu Yang asked, “Then why are you still holding out?”
Wu Pingzhi replied, “It’s been many years since I truly looked at the moon. These past few Mid-Autumn Festivals I was always out socializing. I would glance up once, but never really look. Long ago I made a vow—next time I admire the moon, it will be after the provincial examination ends. And as it happens, today is Mid-Autumn. I know my father must also be looking at the moon tonight.”
Lu Yang set down the basin, sat on the steps, and tilted his head back to look at the sky.
He could not really understand the moon, but he could understand Wu Pingzhi’s feelings.
Seeing a thick cloud drifting aside in the wind, he murmured a line of poetry:
“When the clouds are parted, the bright moon appears.”
Not wanting to disturb him further, Lu Yang fetched water, washed up, and returned to the room to rest.
He did not understand the moon.
But he had a sun.
Tonight, he would sleep beside his “sun.”
After the examination ended, Xie Yan rested at home for two full days before finally recovering his strength.
The results of the provincial examination would be released between the end of the eighth lunar month and the beginning of the ninth, so they would remain in the provincial capital for another half month.
Wu Pingzhi did not wait for the results. Over the past two days, something in his heart seemed to have changed. Once he had recovered, he took people with him to the Golden Buddha Pagoda to arrange the fulfillment of a vow.
But fulfilling a vow could not be done on a whim. An auspicious date had to be chosen, and the temple also needed time to prepare. Wu Pingzhi had prepared eight hundred taels of silver, but when he went that day, he was told it would take two months before the ceremony could be arranged.
Lu Yang had not made a vow before the Buddha, so there was nothing for him to fulfill. Instead, he kept his promise to Xie Yan to buy him many books. When Xie Yan felt rested enough, he took him out into the city.
Perhaps it was their changed state of mind, but everything in the city now felt more vivid.
The streets that had once seemed dull, noisy, and tiresome now felt lively and full of life.
Since the provincial examination had just ended, every conversation in the city revolved around it.
Numerous scholars were meeting to drink together, and even the gambling houses had opened betting pools.
To their surprise, Xie Yan was also listed among the top contenders, with very low odds.
Lu Yang pulled Xie Yan along to listen to the chatter and only then learned that The Imperial Examination Answer Handbook had already been sold in the provincial capital. Within scholarly circles, Xie Yan had gained a modest reputation.
This was not surprising. Back then, Boss Jin had mentioned that in farther regions they would not directly manage the printing but would sell the carved printing blocks instead. Their share of the profits would therefore be much smaller. Lu Yang had never calculated it carefully and had simply cooperated with the expectation of taking a loss, never asking too many questions afterward.
Aside from that, Xie Yan’s academic record at the prefectural academy was outstanding. Though he had enrolled only recently, every examination he took placed him in the first rank. Beneath the provincial capital there were only two prefectural cities—if a scholar with such achievements could not pass, what hope would others have of entering the Golden List?
The more Lu Yang listened, the broader his smile grew. Pride filled his face.
When he turned to look at Xie Yan, Xie Yan was still staring at him with a foolish grin.
Lu Yang said, “This is your great occasion. Why are you staring at me and grinning like an idiot?”
Xie Yan’s words were sweet. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy.”
That made Lu Yang laugh even harder, and he pulled Xie Yan along to place a bet.
Lu Yang did not like gambling. He had heard too many stories about people who became addicted and ended up losing their entire family fortunes.
Once the fortune was gone, they would sell their children. The usual order was daughters and ge’er first, then wives or husbands, then sons. In the end, the whole family line would be wiped out.
He disliked it deeply and stayed vigilant. Yet because he had heard so much about it, he understood the rules well.
Outside the gambling house, he looked at the betting methods posted on the wall while the attendants shouted out the odds.
He did not bet that Xie Yan would simply pass the examination.
Instead, he bet that Xie Yan would take first place—the Jieyuan, the top scholar of the entire provincial examination.
The amount was small: just two taels of silver.
Xie Yan had never been to a gambling house before. Peering inside, he saw people playing dice games—big versus small, odd versus even. But most were betting on which scholars would pass the examination and which might seize the top position.
Lu Yang explained, “They do not know many scholars themselves. The gambling house probably has connections and can list the top students from various academies. The highest odds belong to lesser-known scholars. Those names are suggested by gamblers themselves, and then the house posts them to see whether anyone will follow the bet.”
He added, “You’re clever. Except for the games that depend purely on luck, you could learn the rest very quickly. You’d probably win easily. If Brother Dayong and the others come later and you’re interested, I’ll ask them to show you how to play.”
Xie Yan was only curious. He had no interest in gambling.
He looked at the betting slip, rolled it into a small scroll, and tucked it into his sachet.
Inside that sachet was also the blood-stained land deed.
Lu Yang glanced at it and asked, “Do you still hate them?”
Xie Yan shook his head. “I haven’t opened it to look in a long time.”
The two husbands walked hand in hand toward a bookstore, chatting along the way.
Neither of them considered the possibility of failure. They only talked about what would happen after Xie Yan passed.
Xie Yan planned to return home for a while. When he did, he would not even enter Shangxi Village.
He might instead visit Li Village. The roots of their trading firm were there, and his presence would give the villagers confidence.
Other plans could wait for later.
At the bookstore, Lu Yang told him to choose freely.
“If you like it, take it home. How much can you read here? Read it at home. When you’re done, you can even take it apart.”
Xie Yan happily began browsing.
He rarely bought books. Whenever he encountered essays he liked, he simply memorized them. But given the chance to buy books, he would always choose to buy them.
Good books were worth reading a hundred times.
If he memorized a single essay, he would only reread that one piece. But if he bought the entire volume, he would read the other essays too. Many writings were hidden inside books—perhaps he had once glanced at them and found them dull or incomprehensible, but revisiting them later might bring an entirely new feeling.
Leaning against the counter, Lu Yang watched him.
Xie Yan looked like a little mouse that had stumbled into a granary—his eyes shining brightly, flipping through books with ravenous excitement.
He would hold two books, continue browsing, then start choosing between them: pick one up, put one down, hesitate again, unable to decide. His expressions were vivid and animated.
It was as though he had accidentally entered a granary without bringing a sack. He could only carry away a few grains at a time, and the dilemma was making him frantic.
Lu Yang stepped forward, took the three books from his hands, and told him to keep choosing.
Xie Yan tried to restrain himself, wanting to save money.
Lu Yang said, “Look—normally when someone does well in the exams, some wealthy patron comes along to gift gold, silver, fertile land, and beautiful concubines. Just treat me as your patron. I do not have those other things, but good books—you can pick as many as you like.”
Xie Yan burst into laughter again.
But the books on a single shelf were not enough for him. At one shop he would buy three to five books, then move to the next and buy another three to five. After visiting several stores, the titles began to repeat, and it became harder to find something new.
By the time they stopped for lunch and eventually returned home in the evening, the two husbands were carrying twenty-three books between them.
