Chapter 30

A few days later, early in the morning, Bai Lan heard a ruckus outside. He climbed out of bed. “What’s happening?”

The weather was getting colder, showing signs of early winter. Bai Lan shivered, sitting up in bed but quickly pulling the quilt over his shoulders.

San Leng, hearing the commotion, came running in with the wash water. “Young Master, today is the release of the provincial examination results. Second Young Master’s name is on the list! The residence is all rejoicing over this.”

“Really?!” Bai Lan quickly got out of bed. “I only remembered that the results were released today—I didn’t expect the household to check the list so early.”

The sky outside was still gray, not yet bright.

“Whenever the exam results are released, those who go to check the list always go early. Today, Second Young Master even went himself.”

Bai Lan hurriedly dressed. “That’s wonderful! I should go congratulate him.”

San Leng hesitated. “But Second Young Master is in Xijin Garden. At this hour, we shouldn’t go there.”

Bai Lan considered it. “True.”

Tan Yun treasures Ning Zhengyu so dearly. Now that he has passed, he’s surely celebrating in the garden. Even if there’s a family banquet, it’s just for the masters. The good news has reached us anyway; I can congratulate Ning Zhengyu next time.

Comforted by this, Bai Lan curled back under the covers. Yesterday, he had heard from Qing Mo that Ning Muyan would go to the academic office for the release, and today, there was no need to attend to the grandmother with medicine. He had the day free.

Autumn rain drizzled, everything damp—what could be more comfortable than staying in bed?

Bai Lan dozed off again, unsure how long he slept. Then he heard several knocks at the door, followed by footsteps entering the room. “Why are you still asleep? What time is it?”

“The master sleeps longer than anyone!”

Bai Lan, disturbed, got up. When he stepped out of his room, he saw Ning Zhengyu sitting on a chair, sticking out his tongue and shouting.

“You’re awake, huh?”

Bai Lan thought: only during Tianmendong does he behave this brazenly.

“What’s the matter? Second Young Master, are you watching over people’s sleep?”

“I made the list in the provincial examination!” Ning Zhengyu couldn’t hide the joy on his face. Looking at Bai Lan, he frowned immediately. “You don’t come to congratulate me, yet lie here like a dead log?”

Bai Lan pouted. It was as expected.

He leisurely sat down and poured himself a cup of tea. “Second Young Master passed the provincial exam, surely the celebration is dazzling. How could I squeeze in there?”

Then he asked, “Didn’t your mother say anything about you running over here?”

Ning Zhengyu raised his eyebrows. “Grandmother was overjoyed with my results and came to the garden to talk for a while. I took the opportunity to come report to my eldest brother. Mother naturally didn’t say anything.”

“Even after three days apart, one must view someone differently,” Bai Lan smiled. “You may be young, but you’re quite clever.”

“But Eldest Young Master has gone to the academic office. With you on the list, he must know already.”

“I know,” said Ning Zhengyu. “We’ve all been preparing for exams. Since autumn arrived, we haven’t gone out to play. In a few days, there’s a polo match in the outskirts of the city. Do you want to go?”

“You’re not asking if I want to go—you want me to tell Eldest Young Master to go, right?” Bai Lan squinted. “Why don’t you go tell him yourself?”

Ning Zhengyu stuck out his neck. “If I tell my eldest brother, will you still have the chance to go?”

Bai Lan hummed, though he did feel a bit like seeing it. “But it’s been raining these past days. How could we go?”

“Rain won’t last forever. There will be sunny days.”

Bai Lan said no more.

When Ning Muyan returned, Bai Lan considered how to bring up the matter. Especially seeing that Ning Muyan showed no surprise or delight that Ning Zhengyu had passed the provincial exam, Bai Lan felt it would be a delicate matter to address.

Coming from a scholarly family like theirs, the expectations were high. Ning Zhengyu, though young, was already a xiucai—far surpassing ordinary households. Yet compared to Ning Muyan, he was still a step below.

No matter what, children need praise. Bai Lan braced himself and said, “It seems late autumn is approaching. I heard that the city’s polo matches are quite interesting, but I’ve been so busy before that I haven’t…”

Ning Muyan glanced at him. “You want to go?”

Bai Lan cleared his throat. “A little, yes.”

As soon as he said it, a jolt of realization hit him. What was he thinking, telling Ning Muyan what he wanted to do as if it were reason enough? Why did he assume Ning Muyan would even heed his request?

Before he could make sense of his sudden boldness, Ning Muyan said, “Then go in a few days. Noble families enjoy holding polo matches, and there will be many amusements. It’ll be good for you to see the world.”

Bai Lan pressed his lips together. Ning Muyan seemed indulgent, but to hide the thought, he quickly added, “Second Young Master will go too.”

It was only because Ning Zhengyu wanted to go that Bai Lan said this.

He avoided Ning Muyan’s gaze, guessing that Ning Muyan had agreed so readily knowing it was for Ning Zhengyu’s sake. After all, Ning Zhengyu always visited Tianmendong, and Ning Muyan surely knew a child’s thoughts.

Thinking this, Bai Lan felt somewhat reassured. “Then it’s settled.”

Just as he was about to leave, Ning Muyan called out, “Wait.”

He retrieved a long box from the desk.

Bai Lan’s brow twitched. A long, slender box… Could it be a pen?

Curious, he opened it and found, wrapped in a thick brocade cloth, a cylindrical object. He quickly unwrapped it, and his eyes lit up. “Silver needles!”

Ning Muyan, seeing his delight, smiled faintly. “Lately, you’ve been attending to Grandmother’s health, and her spirit and complexion have improved greatly. When I went to pay respects, she praised you. Suddenly I remembered the doctor who came before used silver needles, but I’ve never seen you use them. I realized I had overlooked it while preparing the medicine before.”

Bai Lan looked at the complete set of silver needles. He had long wanted them, but silver needles were expensive—not only made of silver but requiring fine craftsmanship. Compared to ordinary sewing needles, the price was high. Many doctors would use a set of silver needles for a lifetime. He had searched for a suitable set several times without success.

“Thank you, Eldest Young Master,” Bai Lan said, holding the box. “I will take excellent care of Grandmother’s health.”

Ning Muyan’s lips curved slightly. “Good.”

It seemed all the waiting and anticipation on Ning Zhengyu’s part had been worthwhile. After a few days of rain, the weather finally cleared, though it grew colder.

The garden’s leaves had begun to wither and fall, as if aware that late autumn was turning to winter. The city’s wealthy families were taking advantage of the fine weather to go out.

The next day, the residence received an invitation to a polo match. In fact, wealthy households often sent invitations for gatherings, but Ning Muyan rarely responded, leaving Bai Lan feeling the residence lived in quiet seclusion, seldom receiving visitors.

That morning, Bai Lan saw just how many people still thought of them.

Ning Zhengyu had changed into a crisp, well-fitted outfit, his posture tall and straight, appearing taller than his peers.

“Finally out,” Bai Lan said, noticing the medicine box at his side. “Why are you still carrying your medicine kit?”

“I thought that on the way to the polo grounds, we might pass the South Gate Temple, and I could deliver some medicine. Even though I promised to take it when the stall opens, it’s better for those seeking treatment to receive it early.”

Ning Zhengyu said, “No need. Everything is fine. When you get out of the carriage, don’t pull the box out—you’ll just make people laugh.”

“I know.”

Ning Muyan, listening to their chatter, said, “Alright, we’ll be there soon. Stop fooling around.”

The autumn wind was cool on their faces. A few golden osmanthus trees near the polo field were still in bloom, their fragrance drifting in the breeze.

Bai Lan looked at the vast polo grounds, able to hold over a thousand spectators. The wind lifted his hair, and his mood grew unusually light.

“So lively!”

Ning Zhengyu ran ahead, urging Bai Lan to hurry. “This is the polo match hosted by the magistrate Qi’s family. Many notable families of the city are here. Usually it’s not this lively, but since the provincial exams are done, those who were to compete have come to enjoy themselves. Stick close to me. Soon, Eldest Brother will surely go talk with Young Master Qi. I’ll show you how I play polo.”

Bai Lan looked back at Ning Muyan, walking calmly behind them. Perhaps it was the autumn sun, but Ning Muyan at the open polo field seemed even more radiant than in the residence.

“Can I go with Second Young Master?”

Bai Lan disliked, like Qing Mo, standing stiffly behind Ning Muyan listening to scholars recite poetry. If he had to accompany his master anyway, he might as well go watch Ning Zhengyu play.

Ning Muyan nodded. “I’m not playing—I’ll go meet friends. Go watch Zhengyu play.”

“Good.”

Seeing Ning Muyan agree, Bai Lan happily ran to Ning Zhengyu. “Wait up!”

Ning Muyan stepped a few paces forward, looking at Ning Zhengyu. “Don’t just focus on the game. Keep an eye on Bai Lan. You’ll all return together.”

“Oh, okay.”

Ning Muyan then went with Qing Mo toward the stands.

Ning Zhengyu watched them go and snorted at Bai Lan, “Eldest Brother really cares about you.”

Bai Lan scratched his head, slightly embarrassed. “Young Master knows I’ve never seen the world, so he’s worried I’ll get lost. You know what he means.”

Ning Zhengyu slung the polo mallet over his shoulder. “Of course I know.”

As they walked toward the stables to choose their horses for the match, Ning Zhengyu pointed to the stands. “Usually, there aren’t this many spectators. Today, many young ladies and gentlemen from different families have come. Do you know why?”

“Because it’s the magistrate hosting the polo match?”

Ning Zhengyu rolled his eyes. “No, they all heard the news that Eldest Brother would be here today, so they rushed over to see him in person.”

“……”

Bai Lan thought to himself that he shouldn’t have asked so many questions.

Ning Zhengyu continued, “But there are many young masters from prominent families here today as well. Don’t get dazzled.”

“Then should I just gouge my eyes out?”

Ning Zhengyu chuckled. “No need for that. I heard the young master of the Bian family is also here. The other young masters will all flock around him, showing off every trick. Even if you fancy one of them, it won’t do you any good.”

Bai Lan froze mid-step. “The young master of the Bian family?”

“Bian Daiyun! Oh, you wouldn’t know him. He’s originally from a minor official’s family, but his sister gained favor in the palace and recently gave birth to a prince who’s highly regarded. One person rises, the whole family prospers. Now everyone’s scrambling to attach themselves.”

Ning Zhengyu spoke casually, but the name hit Bai Lan like a clap of thunder in a clear sky, darkening his mood instantly.

“What are you staring at? Come on, move!”

Hearing Bian Daiyun’s name had thrown Bai Lan into a whirlpool of unease, like an old wooden chest buried under dust being dragged into the open, releasing a musty stench.

He couldn’t tell if it was anger or fatigue—or perhaps just a deep weariness with the past—but his limbs went weak. He intended to tell Ning Zhengyu he felt unwell and would rest nearby. At that moment, a few young men on brightly dressed horses closed in.

“Ah, isn’t this Ning Zhengyu? Out today too!”

“I heard you’ve been studying hard lately and finally finished the provincial exams—no small feat. I haven’t congratulated you yet.”

Ning Zhengyu saw they clearly intended trouble and, considering decorum, said nothing and turned to leave. The youths blocked him.

“Eh, it’s been a while! Not even a word and you’re already leaving?”

“I have matters to attend to; excuse me.”

“Tsk tsk tsk, look at you—just finishing the provincial exams and already acting so high and mighty. If you pass the next level, you’ll fly straight to the heavens!”

“I heard Eldest Young Master is also at the polo grounds today. The legitimate son topping two exams, carrying all the books; and the illegitimate one failing both exams, showing up now—it’s quite the contrast.”

One of the youths leaned closer to Ning Zhengyu. “Don’t you agree?”

Though he knew a gathering like this shouldn’t provoke a scene, the youthful arrogance tested Ning Zhengyu’s patience. He clenched his fists, ready to strike, but the youth continued unabashed:

“What’s the matter, going to hit me? Eldest Young Master is here too—let’s see if the illegitimate son can stir trouble in his friend’s polo match.”

Ning Zhengyu’s face reddened, but his tightly clenched fists did not strike.

“Young Master Sun is quite the talker. Since he’s here at the polo grounds, why not settle it on the field?”

The youth laughed loudly. “You dare challenge me? You think I’d lose to an illegitimate son?”

“Fine, then. Let’s see what you’ve got today.”

Both sides, brimming with youthful pride, headed for the stables. Bai Lan wanted to call out to Ning Zhengyu, but in this tense situation, he didn’t dare. Seizing the moment while the youths went to fetch horses, he whispered to Qing Chu, Ning Zhengyu’s personal attendant, “Go inform Eldest Young Master. I’ll stay here and watch over Second Young Master—things might get out of hand.”

“Back then, our Second Young Master just won a match against that Young Master Sun at the polo grounds, and since then, they’ve held a grudge, mocking him whenever they meet. Doctor Xiao Jiang, please watch over our young master—I’ll go notify Eldest Young Master right away.”

Bai Lan nodded. “Go quickly.”

As Qing Chu ran off, Bai Lan watched Ning Zhengyu and Young Master Sun, along with a few other unknown youths, select strong horses and mount them, galloping onto the field and kicking up grass in their wake.

Bai Lan had never ridden a horse, and even in his village, horses were rare. Seeing these still-childish youths ride tall, strong horses recklessly, his heart leapt with tension.

These noble young masters had been trained in riding and archery since childhood, expertly controlling their mounts, yet all carried a spark of anger, making accidents likely.

Bai Lan’s gaze alternated between Ning Zhengyu and the distant stands, trying to locate Ning Muyan among the crowd.

The pounding of hooves and the crack of mallets hitting balls made him dizzy.

Ning Zhengyu repeatedly charged ahead, and the crowd cheered with each goal—three in a row. Bai Lan allowed himself a small sigh of relief.

As Ning Zhengyu’s horse approached their side, Bai Lan prepared to cheer along with the spectators. But at that moment, as Ning Zhengyu’s horse passed in front of Young Master Sun, the youth’s eyes gleamed with malice. Using his mallet to strike at the ball, he swung it against Ning Zhengyu’s horse’s belly.

The horse let out a painful cry, rearing violently. Ning Zhengyu tugged at the reins, trying to regain control, but the frightened horse bucked fiercely. Ning Zhengyu, not fully skilled, panicked, nearly being thrown from the saddle.

The spectators gasped in shock.

Bai Lan’s heart leapt to his throat. The horse careened uncontrollably, Ning Zhengyu almost toppled over, and the consequences of a fall would have been disastrous.

Just as chaos erupted, a figure darted forward, grabbed the reins, and with a powerful leap, mounted the horse, securing Ning Zhengyu who had almost been thrown off.

The horse galloped forward with the two of them on its back, gradually slowing under the firm hold of the reins until it finally stopped with labored snorts. Only then did the spectators’ tense hearts begin to settle.

Bai Lan hurried over to them.

By the time he reached the horse, Ning Zhengyu had dismounted but was still trembling, legs unsteady and face pale. Fortunately, Ning Muyan’s hand held him steady; otherwise, he might have collapsed to the ground.

Looking up at Ning Muyan, he tremulously called out, “Brother…”

Ning Muyan furrowed his brows but spoke gently, “It’s alright now.”

“Muyan, are you okay?” Qi Zhuo hurried over. “Zhengyu, were you hurt?”

Shaking his head, Ning Zhengyu said, “I’m fine. Don’t worry, Young Master Qi.”

“The horses at the usual polo grounds are well-trained, but today, with so many participants, there weren’t enough seasoned mounts. They brought new ones, which is why Zhengyu nearly got into trouble.”

Ning Zhengyu lowered his head slightly. “It’s my fault—my riding isn’t skilled enough. If I were more practiced, I wouldn’t have lost control of the horse.”

“All right,” Ning Muyan said, seeing Zhengyu trying to keep his composure despite his pale face. Turning to Qi Zhuo, he added, “Zhengyu was just startled. I’ll take him down to rest for a bit. Falling off during a polo match is common; it’s no big deal. There are many guests today—you go about your duties.”

Qi Zhuo glanced at Ning Zhengyu. “Are you really alright?”

Ning Zhengyu shook his head, and Qi Zhuo relaxed slightly.

Bai Lan quickly followed them off the field. The other youths who had played alongside Ning Zhengyu saw him being supported and helped off by Ning Muyan. Surrounded by talk of brotherly devotion, Young Master Sun’s face turned green with anger.

The youths didn’t return to the stands but went to their carriages instead.

Once off the field, Ning Zhengyu began sniffling, his eyes red. “I’ve embarrassed my family again…”

He had been excited to come out, finally seizing the rare chance to accompany Ning Muyan, but an unexpected incident had turned it into a public humiliation. The fright and the embarrassment overwhelmed him once they were out of the crowd.

“Embarrassed? Who hasn’t taken a tumble while learning to ride? Crying like this at your age is what draws mockery, not falling.”

Ning Muyan rarely showed such warmth toward his younger brother, and seeing him cry for a moment left him at a loss. Bai Lan quickly handed over a handkerchief, and Ning Muyan used it to wipe away Zhengyu’s tear-streaked face.

Fortunately, he was a boy, so no makeup was ruined—otherwise, it would have been far more complicated.

“Qing Mo, go tell Qi Zhuo we’re heading back. We’ll meet again another day.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

Ning Muyan guided his head-down, crying brother onto the carriage, then looked back to see if Bai Lan had followed. His brow twitched slightly, clearly worried.

Once on the carriage, Ning Zhengyu still hung his head low. Bai Lan spoke up for him: “You were just startled by that Young Master Sun. His mallet hit the horse, which scared it. It’s not your fault.”

“Sun family?” Ning Muyan asked.

Bai Lan nodded.

Ning Muyan reached out and lightly patted Ning Zhengyu’s shoulder. “This isn’t your fault. That only son of the Sun family has always been spoiled—wild and unruly. His character will eventually ruin him.”

“I see.” Ning Zhengyu suddenly looked up in surprise. “Brother, you’re hurt!”

Bai Lan glanced over and noticed a patch of scrapes and bruises on Ning Muyan’s forearm.

He must have been so focused on Zhengyu that he didn’t even notice getting injured while controlling the horse.

Bai Lan picked up his medical box, ready to say it was only a scrape and nothing serious, but Ning Muyan stopped him: “Aren’t you going to check it?”

“….”

Just moments ago, Ning Muyan had been heroic; now he appeared delicate again.

Bai Lan sat down, rolling up Ning Muyan’s sleeve to inspect for other injuries. Fortunately, there was only one scrape.

He bent Ning Muyan’s arm, following the meridians, pressing down along the forearm. “Does it hurt?”

Ning Muyan shook his head.

“Then it’s just a scratch—no damage to the bones or tendons. It’s fine.” Bai Lan reached for the ointment box. “We’ll put on some salve and it’ll heal quickly.”

Before he could grab the ointment, Ning Zhengyu gently pulled it toward himself, saying guiltily yet earnestly, “Brother, since you’re hurt, I’ll apply the medicine for you.”

Seeing the bond between the brothers, Bai Lan let him have the chance to care for Ning Muyan.

“All right, then you apply the ointment,” Bai Lan stood. “I’ll step outside for a bit. The streets are fragrant with osmanthus.”

Ning Muyan wanted to warn that Ning Zhengyu might be clumsy with the ointment, but Bai Lan had already gone out. He watched Ning Zhengyu carefully search the box for the ointment, sighing softly.

“Bai Lan, the ointment is in the blue bottle, right?”

“Yes,” Bai Lan replied from outside.

“Why isn’t there a label?”

Ning Zhengyu grumbled as he opened the ointment. The scent was unusual—not the pungent smell of ordinary salves for bruises, but a faint, gentle fragrance.

“Bai Lan’s medicine is different from others’. No wonder he cured Grandmother’s headaches.” For once, Ning Zhengyu praised Bai Lan: “Applying this will make it heal quickly.”

He carefully rubbed the ointment onto Ning Muyan’s scrape. Ning Muyan found the texture strange—it didn’t sting the wound, but it was unusually sticky, spreading like oil and never drying.

Outside, Bai Lan swung his legs freely, watching the bustling street. Something about today still felt unfinished.