Lu Yang teased him without letting up. “This is Champion Pork Knuckle and Champion Braised Pork.”
Xie Yan felt both exasperated and fond. “You’re my champion husband,” he said.
Lu Yang grinned. “I’m not.”
Xie Yan straightened up, insisting, “How can you not be?”
Lu Yang laughed. “You didn’t take first place in the exams.”
Xie Yan replied, “Being first place in your room is enough for me.”
Lu Yang laughed so hard he wanted to continue their playful banter.
The next morning, Lu Yang went early to the gambling house to place a bet, only to find they were wagering on the county-level exam students, not the provincial exam. No one cared about the imperial exam results.
When he asked further, the gambler said, “Next year, when the provincial exams come around, we’ll also take bets. We’ll see which local scholars can achieve the degree of Juren.”
This year, no one paid attention.
Lu Yang pouted—so anticlimactic.
The results of the two exams came in, just like the bets: no one cared about the imperial exam. Checking the county academy bulletin and listening to the prefectural education official was enough.
Xie Yan’s ranking remained steady, as usual—first place in every exam, with a few words of encouragement for others.
By taking first, he was selected as a stipendary student (linsheng) again and chose to continue studying at the private academy. After the exams concluded, he explained the situation to the county school’s instructors and met with the prefectural education official that same day.
The imperial-appointed prefectural education officials were usually capital-appointed and tasked with evaluating students in their jurisdiction. The number of students they oversaw was an important part of their official record when reporting back to the capital.
This time, the official explained the number of instructors, the quality of teaching, the academy’s library, and the networking opportunities. Since Xie Yan only had his elderly mother and his sick husband at home, it would be very difficult to fully support a student here. The state stipend alone was insufficient to support a family. He did not insist.
Studying at a private academy cost less than maintaining a household in the city. The official subtly hinted at whether Xie Yan’s friend could provide some support.
Xie Yan remembered some stipendary students didn’t study at official schools, so he asked again.
If possible, he wanted to enroll nominally at the county school. Whether he received the stipend or not didn’t matter—he mainly wanted access to the library.
This was his way of requesting leave.
He also had the prescriptions for Lu Yang’s treatment. After visiting the city doctors, he had memorized them at home. He didn’t carry them today but could recite them fluently.
Several doctors had said Lu Yang was young enough to be saved, but the illness was serious and could not be neglected.
He spoke of Lu Yang’s care for him, tears in his eyes.
Returning to the exam hall wasn’t easy, and the devotion from his husband was something he could never repay fully.
Moreover, he was thriving at the private academy. The atmosphere was good—students who paid large sums, except for a few forced by their families, were diligent and inquisitive. Everyone sought academic success; rankings didn’t create harsh competition. Talented students were encouraged rather than suppressed. This made learning enjoyable.
In official schools, status differences, competition for rankings and benefits, and the lure of networking often led to factions and early scheming, which he disliked.
When students requested leave, it was usually for illness or family matters. Since his husband was sick, the request was understandable. The official relented.
His ranking would not change—that was deserved. But he was required to visit the county school at least once per quarter.
Three months per visit wasn’t excessive.
Xie Yan happily agreed and thanked him repeatedly.
With that settled, only business matters remained. A meal with business partners was scheduled for tomorrow; today was free, and Wu Pingzhi, as a host, took the couple to tour the city.
Lu Yang had never seen the city’s dock, so the three of them went together.
Near the dock, just as Lu Yang imagined, many laborers carried large sacks with bare torsos.
Numerous ships were moored, with people dressed in various ways coming and going. Merchants and their bodyguards were abundant. Mostly men worked here, but there were also courtesans from nearby houses and ships. Lu Yang even saw flamboyantly dressed men recruiting clients, joking and arguing.
The crowd was thick, the goods plentiful and varied.
Any rare items sold in city shops could often be found at the dock’s upstream sellers.
The inn streets ran back to back, with some hidden doors—called “secret courtesans.”
This was different from Lu Yang’s imagination. He had thought the dock would mostly be warehouses, food stalls, and lodging, not so many courtesans.
The warehouses were farther away, past a few busy streets, tucked in inconspicuous buildings. They stored goods and sometimes housed people.
Back-to-back with these warehouses, there was a massive market street.
Merchants opened their doors but sold on the street like other vendors.
Wu Pingzhi, familiar with this area, explained: “Goods aren’t just bought by city merchants; traveling traders also browse. Merchants buy in the east to sell in the west for profit. Along this canal, opportunities are everywhere.”
Lu Yang’s heart raced. With the right connections, he could set up a small stall here, and the mountain goods business could take off.
Wu Pingzhi nodded. “Yes. Even if you make just one transaction, there’s profit. Watch the goods, check the prices, study the market. No one starts as a regular customer; repeat business builds over time.”
Since they were here, they explored a bit.
Lu Yang didn’t plan to bring goods back to the county; he wasn’t running a general store. This trip was for observation only.
However, his champion husband heard someone selling medicinal herbs and insisted on checking out ginseng.
Lu Yang didn’t intend to buy—one root would cost more than selling their shop could cover!
Wu Pingzhi, interested, followed along.
He reassured Lu Yang: “As long as it’s not urgent and you’re not forced, you can afford ginseng with your current resources.”
Urgent needs could raise prices, and forced sales were obvious. Wu Pingzhi had already explained the losses from a previous medical purchase in the city.
Xie Yan remembered that incident clearly. Even though they were here for ginseng, he examined many herbs at the stall.
He was willing to learn and attentive; he recognized the herbs Lu Yang often used and understood their properties. Talking about them at the stall made the seller think he knew his stuff.
With his scholarly demeanor, tempered by hardship yet still pure in mind like an innocent young master, and Wu Pingzhi’s more affluent, merchant-like bearing, the two of them looked like a married couple.
The vendor assumed Wu Pingzhi was accompanying the young master and asked about the goods, quantities, and family.
Famous pharmacies and clinics displayed their reputations; competing merchants gathered.
A well-known name attracted customers. More customers meant faster turnover for herbs—a big business.
Wu Pingzhi smiled. “Our young master hasn’t taken over the family business yet; today he’s just out browsing.”
Xie Yan, hearing this, looked at him in surprise.
Wu Pingzhi continued: “He also studies medicine and is interested in these things.”
Business was about being friendly. Busy or not, chatting with people could lead to opportunities.
The vendor shared details about the herbs: they harvested, collected from mountains, cultivated in fields, or raised medicinal insects. Each batch required processing before sale; not just any fresh seedling could be sold.
Herbs varied in rarity, and age mattered. Older herbs had better efficacy and naturally fetched higher prices.
