They didn’t bring paper or ink. The county town had no dock, and the trip to the prefectural city was entirely overland, bumpy all the way—hardly a good setting for writing.
Lu Yang also went to the medical hall, buying a few kinds of pills from the physician. Just in case of headaches, fevers, stomachaches, or diarrhea, they could be used in an emergency.
He also packed dried food, water, and silver.
They say a poor family can afford a rich journey, but too much wealth isn’t good either. So he brought only ten taels of silver.
Since no one at home could manage things—Zhao Peilan was still too soft—Lu Yang didn’t touch the shop’s silver, leaving five taels there for emergencies. Their journey would last at most half a month, which was enough.
He had also told Boss Ding that, in an emergency, a few taels could be borrowed. If anything serious happened, they could go to the Wu family for help.
Last time, they had earned over 190 taels of silver. He converted it into five silver notes—two for fifty taels, two for twenty, and one for ten—leaving a little over forty taels in silver to spend personally.
Spending had been heavy lately, so with the shop taken care of, only a small sum remained. Zhao Peilan couldn’t manage silver notes well, and carrying them was risky. After some thought, Lu Yang entrusted the remainder to Wu Pingzhi for safekeeping.
The Wu family was large and prosperous; a bit of silver wouldn’t matter to them. They could retrieve it after the exams.
Wu Pingzhi was surprised; that day, seeing their eyes glint with tears, he felt moved.
Lu Yang reminded him, “It’s just for safekeeping, not for you.”
Even so, Wu Pingzhi was touched. The amount wasn’t small, and being trusted with it meant a lot.
He spent over half an hour going through the details, even wanting to draw up a formal record. Lu Yang, feeling a headache coming on, asked Xie Yan to handle him.
They could make their own dried food. With Lu Yang skilled at buns and flatbreads, he prepared what they would eat on the road.
On the road, flatbreads were the easiest—they could be made dry for preservation, even if hard to chew.
Wu Pingzhi noted that they would need at least one meal outdoors each day. Villages were far apart, and reaching the next county town took time. Before arriving at the prefectural city, the journey would mainly be traveling—five to seven days by carriage.
Lu Yang thought it over and brought a small iron pot, five pounds of flour, and a pound of salt.
Since they would stop to cook outdoors, they could boil dumplings in the pot, even knead noodles for hand-rolled pasta.
Several others would travel with them, mostly classmates from private academies, some students from other schools, and even a few resident teachers.
All were acquaintances of Wu Pingzhi. Since his home couldn’t host everyone, he usually rented a small courtyard near the exam venue, so friends would have a place to stay—avoiding cramped accommodations that would leave them exhausted before the exams.
It was common for merchants to court scholars, and Wu Pingzhi was open about it.
Not all licentiates had to take the provincial exam. County school instructors only needed to compile a list of candidates; examinees had to fill out their own forms, including name, age, appearance, birthplace, names of three generations of direct relatives, enrollment history, and any disciplinary records.
To handle this, they queued at the county school, running into Yuan Ji and others.
These people bullied the weak and lacked tolerance, never admitting their own shortcomings. Previously, Xie Yan had scolded Yuan Ji multiple times. Later, busy with other matters, he threatened to scold a few others, but it was scattered, lacking the impact of his earlier criticisms.
However, the commentary he had written circulated among students. Not only county school students but many other exam candidates sought out his writings.
As a result, discussion about their essays surrounded them. Even before Xie Yan scolded anyone this time, their morale was already shaken.
At this meeting, everyone looked haggard, their eyes dull yet obsessively determined. They were no longer merely preparing for the county exams—they wanted to prove themselves.
With the exams imminent, Xie Yan didn’t stir trouble, waiting patiently in line.
The others spotted him, glanced a few times, and left him alone.
Once this was settled, they could depart.
The couple didn’t need to rush for a carriage—they would ride Wu Pingzhi’s horse-drawn vehicle.
It had a simple roof, similar to a raised bed frame, with four wooden posts supporting a canopy.
The sides were mostly open with large window panels, letting air flow freely on the road, while still offering protection from sun and rain.
Wu Pingzhi explained, “This is a summer carriage. In winter, we switch to a fully enclosed, warm carriage.”
Lu Yang examined it closely, asking about the cost.
To him, making money was to enjoy a better life. Knowing what that life could be made clear the purpose of saving. He liked setting practical goals: good food, drink, clothes, and shelter.
Carriages were part of travel, so he listened but didn’t dwell on details.
He asked Wu Pingzhi, “Can you get me a young horse? I want to buy one.”
Wu Pingzhi said he could—only stallions were available; mares were difficult to find.
Some steppe merchants sold horses, as they were strategic assets. A good horse could be especially valuable. Stallions were sold in small batches; mares, able to breed, were carefully preserved for lineage and even war.
Xie Yan also wanted to buy horses—three in total: one for Lu Yang to ride, one to lead, and one for himself to ride with Lu Yang.
Wu Pingzhi said, “If you have the money, buy what you like.”
Whether it could be fully utilized was another matter.
Horse prices fluctuated greatly. Low prices could see one exchanged for a bolt of silk; now, the carriage horse was bought that way.
High prices demanded gold—starting at three taels, equivalent to thirty taels of silver.
Average horses cost about fifteen taels.
Wu Pingzhi, fanning himself calmly despite the bumpy ride, said, “In business, rare goods are prized. Horses are scarce and have a base price. Stable suppliers sell steadily. Some who want to buy but aren’t desperate wait for the next opportunity. If sellers create uncertainty, buyers rush to spend. Prices rise—sometimes artificially, sometimes due to scarcity or quality differences. Like fabric: rough cloth and silk are priced differently; even the same material varies by dye.
“For families like us, don’t show off. A horse around twenty taels is enough—strong, good-looking, able to pull a cart or carry a person. You get respect without envy.”
He added, “Foals’ prices vary. Travel makes it harder; price depends on the horse’s condition.”
Xie Yan considered the silver, thinking it a pity.
“It’d be nice to sell another book in the prefectural city,” he mused.
Once sales were enough, they could buy horses.
Wu Pingzhi laughed, “No—wait until after the exams. Everyone knows, the provincial exams favor top-ranking licentiates. If you achieve a good rank, then sell your book in the prefectural city. County sales bring only small profits.”
There were few candidates, and upgrading paper, ink, and binding would raise costs. Selling locally would just cover expenses. Selling in the prefectural city or surrounding counties was real business.
Lu Yang was interested in commerce. Since there was downtime during the journey, he asked Wu Pingzhi about it.
