The time for catching up today was brief. Since Lu Yang didn’t play the zither, he instead handed Hong Chu a food box.
Inside were tiny steamed buns, fried flour snacks, dried meat, as well as their homemade osmanthus tea and persimmon cakes. These were all common items that Lu Yang ate regularly.
Except for the persimmon cakes, everything else was made by him. He gave them to Hong Chu to enjoy as snacks. To go with the fried flour, he even included a pound of brown sugar.
Hong Chu had rushed over from the street, bringing a simple visiting gift—just two brushes. On leaving, he carried the full food box along with two copies of the annual calendar.
Lu Yang said, “My skills are decent, picked up here and there from learning secretly. Once the study opens, come sit with me and I’ll make you a proper meal.”
Hong Chu cast his gaze down at Lu Yang’s belly.
Lu Yang didn’t think much of it. “Soon, when the belly grows bigger, I won’t go to the kitchen anymore. I’ll just lie inside like a grand master. Moving around now is fine.”
Hong Chu nodded in agreement and chose two simple home-style dishes. One was eggplant—Lu Yang’s favorite—and he was very good at cooking it, teasing Hong Chu from the doorway.
Before the study opened, Wu Pingzhi returned from the provincial city and came to visit. He was full of cheer.
Xie Yan, noticing that Wu Pingzhi no longer seemed like a delicate lotus, worried: “What’s the matter? Did you entrust your heart to the Bodhisattva?”
Wu Pingzhi remained silent.
This kid was truly lucky—first a good father, now a good husband.
Wu Pingzhi said, “I just follow my heart. If I feel happy, I’m happy.”
Xie Yan loved hearing this. “Then you might as well give me eight hundred taels of silver. Just follow my way; that’s always been my method.”
As for matters of the Bodhisattva, one shouldn’t speak recklessly. He muttered under his breath, and Lu Yang pulled his ear, prompting him to bow three times to the sky.
Wu Pingzhi didn’t elaborate on much, only mentioning Liu Youli’s situation.
“He’s pretty notorious now. Children even sing nursery rhymes, spreading his misdeeds all over the city.”
Xie Yan knew this was orchestrated by Ji Mingzhu and Sheng Daxian.
In the prefectural city, the situation was similar. After Ji Mingzhu returned, he leveraged his network of family and acquaintances to ruin two of Liu Youli’s marital arrangements. His reputation wasn’t completely destroyed yet—it would take some time to fully settle, but not long.
Xie Yan recounted the last beating incident to Wu Pingzhi.
Wu Pingzhi looked bewildered, confirming once, and when Xie Yan repeated it, he sighed heavily, feeling it a great pity.
“With such a good opportunity, why didn’t you call me along?”
Beating a scholar was pointless—where else would one find a degree-holder to attack? Ah!
This made Xie Yan even more smug.
Lu Yang told Wu Pingzhi about the younger gentlemen and ladies he had been observing. He recognized only a few—one was Ji Mingzhu’s younger brother, and another was Ding Laoban’s niece.
Wu Pingzhi, upon hearing the conditions, rejected them both.
Ding Laoban’s niece had no business experience and managed household affairs well—not suitable for him.
Ji Mingzhu’s younger brother was knowledgeable but too young and not yet settled—also unsuitable.
Wu Pingzhi said, “I want someone more mature, who can manage my family’s business and hold the clan in order. I spoke with my father—talents in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting don’t matter. If they can manage my family, I’ll learn whatever they like. Out in public, I’ll please people; at home, it will naturally follow.”
Mutual effort meant pleasing each other became irrelevant—this was what he called adaptation.
His father also suggested a few candidates, but he found them lacking.
Young and inexperienced, a person could be naive. At home, it would take a few years of training.
Wu Pingzhi hadn’t fully decided yet and wanted to wait.
Receiving a tentative response, Lu Yang said, “I’ll send word to their families another day to decline politely. That way we don’t hold anyone up.”
After casual chatting, it was time to study.
Wu Pingzhi didn’t attend the academy; he sat in on Xie Yan’s lessons, stayed at home in the evenings, discussing scholarship and writing in the tea room. They went over a plan for his future studies.
There was a guest room at home, and Xie Yan had Wu Pingzhi stay for easy access while preparing for exams.
Xie Yan visited his master daily. His master was elderly, so half-days were sufficient, and Wu Pingzhi could study alongside him.
He found various inconveniences, but after Lu Yang and Zhao Peilan persuaded him, he agreed.
His luggage was easy to pack, and the next day he arrived.
Lu Yang found a moment to brief him on Hong Chu.
He didn’t elaborate much, merely saying, “I have a friend who wants to ask you something.”
Wu Pingzhi casually agreed.
Lu Yang’s friend surely wanted to ask about business.
On November 24, the study officially opened.
The Luo brothers bought ten strings of firecrackers to set off a celebratory “opening luck” at the entrance.
Lu Yang and Xie Yan pushed open the study doors together and greeted guests at the threshold.
Many invitations had been sent. Those who could come did; those who couldn’t sent congratulatory gifts.
As scholars arrived, Xie Yan became busy and could no longer greet guests alongside Lu Yang. He went inside to attend to them. Lu Liu filled in for him, standing by Lu Yang and his brother, smiling with eyes squinting at the crowd.
“Brother, so many people! Your business is really booming!”
They stood only briefly before the Luo brothers replaced them. They went to a small quiet room on the east side of the shop to sit, read, and chat.
The shop was large: half with bookshelves, half with quiet rooms. In the back, there was another quiet room and a small study.
Those who preferred solitude wandered briefly and left after checking on the business. Xie Yan followed his husband’s guidance, issuing reading cards to visitors.
Those fond of activity flipped through Xie Yan’s annual calendar, exclaiming with interest. At this moment, they hardly resembled scholars.
Clearly, they were the noisy types. Xie Yan, proud, busied himself, sending visiting friends to show Wu Pingzhi around.
He squeezed in to grab a copy of his own calendar.
Others thought he was shy or embarrassed and didn’t compete with him, unaware he was shameless and came to explain.
His calendar contained numerous everyday scenes. There was nothing scandalous, yet it made him proud.
He pointed out each day’s events, explaining what the people in the illustrations were doing. Then he gestured toward Lu Yang and Lu Liu, teaching them to recognize people: “The one in the red clothing is my husband. See the mandarin collar with the mandarin duck clasp? Do you know what a mandarin duck clasp is? Like the one on me.”
He tugged at the clasp to demonstrate clearly.
The entire room heard him, many casting astonished glances.
Lu Liu whispered teasingly to Lu Yang, “Brother, your husband is making you lose face.”
Lu Yang boldly shifted the situation. Feeling proud, others felt awkward laughing.
“My scholar husband treasures me—that’s only natural!”
Soon after, two congratulatory gifts arrived. Mr. Cui and Ling San did not come.
Hong Chu arrived late, missing the opening hour. By the time he entered, some guests had already left. He instructed Lai Zhen to hand his gift to Li Feng and toured the study with Lu Yang.
Lu Liu stayed in front as a temporary shopkeeper, helping collect money and keep accounts.
After arranging tables and chairs, the study felt appropriately spacious.
The front quiet room was sparse, with only a few people. The back quiet rooms were full—several people sat around one table, chatting and exchanging witty remarks.
In the courtyard, on Li Feng’s suggestion, grass mats were used for partitioning.
Inside, each table was also separated by grass mats.
Visitors, new to the experience, found it novel—pulling the mats up and letting them down repeatedly.
Wu Pingzhi, following his own whims, played along happily. He pulled a mat again and noticed two people entering through the door.
One he recognized: Lu Yang.
The other he didn’t—face cold and elegant like a winter plum, a red mole in the middle of the brow. Surely this was the friend Lu Yang mentioned who had a question.
