“Huh? What do you want to eat? I’ll buy it for you. Clinging to him won’t work—he gives all his money to me anyway.”
Lin Min was holding onto Du Heng’s arm, shaking him playfully, making him uneasy. Seeing Du Heng frown, he thought he might finally give in.
Until a voice, not particularly friendly, intervened:
“Xiao Man? What are you doing here?”
Before Lin Min could respond, Du Heng’s voice sounded beside her.
“What, I’m not allowed here? Are we disturbing your fun?”
“You’re saying things I don’t agree with.”
Du Heng quickly moved Lin Min aside, trying to help Qin Xiao Man, but instead a food container was stuffed into her arms.
“Go stand aside. I need to speak with him first.”
Holding the food, Du Heng looked at the fiercely glaring Qin Xiao Man, wanting to speak but clamped his mouth shut under her severe look.
Lin Min saw the heavily pregnant girl’s commanding presence. He had already asked Zhou Wanqing about Qin Xiao Man. Not paying attention before, he had noted only that she was a rustic, straightforward character.
Now seeing her in person, he realized she was tall and rough-looking, quite plain in features. He couldn’t fathom how someone as talented and refined as Du Heng had ended up with a rustic girl, commanding him so confidently. He sighed sentimentally for Du Heng’s fate.
“This must be Xiao Man, right? I’m Lin Min, younger brother of Qin Zhifeng’s cousin.”
Qin Xiao Man blocked Du Heng with her body, facing Lin Min, who was about half a head shorter.
The smiling boy’s every gesture was coquettish. Qin Xiao Man shivered and asked, “A relative from your uncle’s family?”
“Yes.”
“Distant relative?”
“Yes.”
Qin Xiao Man raised an eyebrow. “No wonder I’ve never seen such a weak-looking cousin.”
Lin Min hurriedly said, “I’m not weak.”
“Really? Just now you were clinging to my husband like a water snake. I thought you were frail.”
“Then why are you holding onto him?” Qin Xiao Man shot back.
Lin Min’s face changed slightly, surprised by her sharpness. He pitifully explained, “Earlier, the Qin household sent meals to Zhifeng and Du Heng. When I went to see Zhifeng, I helped deliver a few times. Du Heng is kind to me, and since I like reading at home, I sometimes have questions I want to ask him.”
“I really admire people with knowledge.”
“Could this have been misunderstood by Xiao Man? Don’t get mad at Du Heng—I’ll apologize on your behalf.”
Saying this, Lin Min glanced at Du Heng with a slightly wronged expression. He measured his words carefully, calling him “brother” every other sentence. Whether it was sibling affection or something else, no one could tell.
If Du Heng had interest, he could play along; if not, he could claim he merely regarded Du Heng as a cousin, and any misunderstanding would be on the other party.
Qin Xiao Man didn’t know anything about “green tea” behavior or these convoluted social maneuvers. He just found the boy overly affected. He glanced at Du Heng and asked, “Is that so?”
Du Heng widened his eyes and shook his head quickly.
Qin Xiao Man didn’t show whether he believed it. He turned to Lin Min:
“Sure, my husband is always gentle with people. Since he treats you well, and you like to ask him about poetry, clinging to him in public isn’t right. People watching might think you’re not modest. If you want, why don’t you marry him as a concubine? That way you can ask all the questions you like.”
“Besides, he already serves me at home. If you were his concubine, there’d be two people attending me. Normally he cooks, and you could serve tea, fetch water, and wash my feet. I’m not petty—I’d allow you to ask him about poetry. Both sides would be satisfied.”
The excitement was visible on Qin Xiao Man’s face, as if he were calculating a bargain. Lin Min turned pale, stepped back two paces, and forced a laugh: “Xiao Man, you’re joking… I don’t have that intention at all.”
“What? You don’t want to? Then what were you thinking earlier, sticking to him so eagerly even though he’s married? Do you have no sense of propriety? My, city people are really open-minded!”
Lin Min didn’t know how to respond and looked at Du Heng for help.
“You shouldn’t invite me to do anything in future—it causes misunderstanding. We’ve only met twice. As a young man, you should know your limits. If cousin Zhifeng knew, he might be offended.”
“Du Heng… really thinks so? I only regard him as a brother and we don’t interact much. Why are you two acting like this?” Lin Min changed his words, blaming them. He then spotted Qin Zhifeng leaving the academy and rushed over, steps stumbling, like seeking rescue: “Cousin!”
Qin Xiao Man saw Lin Min collapse into Qin Zhifeng’s arms, like a street performer flipping masks—just moments ago playful, now soft and teary, as if wronged.
“What are you crying for?”
“Xiao Man said I should be Du Heng’s concubine—he scared me.”
Qin Zhifeng looked toward the couple standing not far off. Qin Xiao Man, hearing this, let out a cold chuckle: “I was joking. Lin Min said he liked knowledgeable people, so I asked him how much—if he’d marry one as a concubine. Did he really take it seriously?”
“Since the misunderstanding’s cleared, I’ll take Du Heng and leave.”
Without waiting for anyone to reply, Qin Xiao Man tugged Du Heng aside.
“Cousin!”
Lin Min saw Qin Zhifeng nod to Qin Xiao Man but didn’t intervene. After being called a fox spirit, he felt quite wronged.
“He bullied me, and you didn’t defend me?”
Qin Zhifeng said, “Siblings often quarrel. Zhifeng and I argue too. Xiao Man hasn’t studied much, grew up in the countryside, speaks bluntly—don’t take it to heart.”
Lin Min ground his teeth and hurried after them, determined to seek redress from Zhou Wanqing if needed.
“Your uncle likes that boy—he might be choosing a bride intentionally. Saying that in front of cousin, will he take it the wrong way?”
Qin Xiao Man said, “I know my uncle treats me well. That boy isn’t necessarily a good daughter-in-law. I only said it to give my cousin a heads-up.”
Pausing, Qin Xiao Man glared at Du Heng: “And you scold me for speaking unpleasantly, saying you treat him so well. What’s the proper way then? Feed him? Carry him around?”
“Can’t you explain it to me?!”
Du Heng felt wronged: “I didn’t—”
“I don’t want to hear a single word!”
“…”
Seeing Du Heng truly quiet, Qin Xiao Man pouted: “You really won’t say anything if I don’t listen?”
Du Heng pressed his lips, watching Qin Xiao Man cover her ears and scowl.
“You’ve blocked your ears. Even if I spoke, you wouldn’t hear me.”
Qin Xiao Man wiggled a finger, and Du Heng laughed.
He took her hand away: “That boy is clingy and keeps bringing up relatives—I’m troubled too. Luckily, you came today, or I wouldn’t have gotten free. My husband fights on all fronts, and I can only hide behind you and cheer.”
Qin Xiao Man kept silent, face sulking.
Du Heng gently held her hand: “There’s not a shred of impropriety. I usually avoid him, but he always bothers me. I can’t stand the smell of powder on him—it makes me want to sneeze.”
Seeing Qin Xiao Man still unmoved, he added: “My heart only belongs to you. I don’t care for anyone else.”
He coaxed her softly, and Qin Xiao Man felt herself weakening: “Alright, alright. Let’s eat. You brought chicken soup, and I can’t even stop your mouth now. Normally you’re shy, but today you can talk smoothly in public. No wonder he clings to you—your words are so sweet, it’s impossible not to be enchanted.”
Du Heng said, “I haven’t exchanged more than a few words with him. His face is like dough—he clings even if I ignore him.”
Qin Xiao Man was worried about anyone shamelessly clinging to Du Heng, unaware that it was he who had effectively drawn people to him. If someone else tried the same trick and whisked Du Heng away, Xiao Man would be beside himself with frustration.
The two of them found a shaded pavilion to sit in. The May weather was warm, and the chicken soup was still steaming. Du Heng lifted the lid and praised, “Smells wonderful!”
He ladled some toward Qin Xiao Man’s mouth. “You try it first.”
“There’s more at home; I’ll eat it there. You go ahead.”
Xiao Man crossed his arms, looking at Du Heng’s fair face. “Good thing you had nothing with that little fox.”
Du Heng held the ladle. “What do you mean? If there had been anything, would you have cried your eyes out?”
“You wish!”
Earlier, when he had suddenly seen that fox clinging to Du Heng, his mind had gone fuzzy, but he quickly regained composure.
“If someone came to bother you, I’d chase them away. If you flirted in public and drew attention, I’d report it to Second Uncle and my uncle.”
Du Heng chuckled, patting Xiao Man on the head. “Are you trying to scare me?”
“Who’s scaring you? I’m speaking the truth!”
Xiao Man tilted his head back. “When I first brought you home, I thought I’d have to force you. Later, you chose to stay willingly—so it was mutual. Now, only a year or two into marriage, and you attract attention—that shows bad character! Shouldn’t someone correct that?”
Du Heng felt it was reasonable. “Don’t worry. I have no other thoughts.”
Everything he had now was thanks to Xiao Man’s connections and family support. Without her backing, he might still be begging somewhere. To be well-fed and then flirt in public? Impossible.
“I only care about you and the child, for you to succeed and live comfortably. Nothing else crosses my mind.”
Xiao Man nudged the food box. “Stop talking and eat. The soup will get cold.”
“I’ll eat and then escort you home.”
“No need. Da Zhuang brought me here. I’ll ride back on the cart. You don’t need to trouble yourself—just return to the academy.”
After a short debate, Du Heng relented.
They ate the chicken soup, then Du Heng led Xiao Man to a nearby bookstore to buy some new brushes and ink. He only returned to the academy after sending her to the city gate.
Xiao Man sat in the cart, waving to Du Heng as the city gate disappeared from view. He rubbed his belly, exhaling slightly. He intended to visit his uncle’s house to thank him for caring for Du Heng, but after today’s incident, that little fox probably also went to the Qin family. If so, more trouble awaited.
Originally, he had merely wanted to deliver some chicken soup to Du Heng—yet the day had turned so troublesome. On top of earning money to support Du Heng, he also had to guard against those scheming little temptresses. Exhausting.
Suddenly, a dull thud shook the cart, and Xiao Man nearly toppled backward. Quick as a flash, he grabbed the sideboard and avoided falling, though the jolt still shook him.
“How are you driving this cart!? Our mistress is pregnant—what if you’d hurt her?”
Xiao Man slowly got up and saw that a loaded ox cart had collided with theirs. The driver, an old man, jumped down. “Sorry! Today this ox was restless—didn’t eat enough grass and accidentally hit your cart. Is your husband alright?”
Xiao Man steadied his waist, feeling a twinge from the jolt but nothing serious. “It’s fine.”
“Da Zhuang, head back.”
On the way back, Da Zhuang drove even more cautiously, steering wide when encountering other carts.
The next day, Du Heng slept in, then had breakfast at the academy. The exam began at the last part of the Mao hour (approx. 5–7 a.m.).
There were over fifty candidates, and the academy’s wide grounds had dedicated exam rooms for convenience and for students to familiarize themselves with a provincial exam setting.
Du Heng entered his exam room early, waiting for the test to be distributed.
The academy’s exam wasn’t a major imperial test, so it was a single session with one paper. The exam was longer than a standard elementary-level test; it wasn’t the kind where memorization alone could guarantee eighty percent of the questions.
Even the poetry section wasn’t the usual “fill in the missing lines from a classical excerpt.” Instead, they gave a prompt requiring the student to compose a fully balanced, rhyming poem.
There were also essay questions. Several consecutive prompts asked, for instance, if the dynasty were approaching a transition with factional power struggles, and a local magnate extended an olive branch—how should an official respond?
He raised his brush. It seemed to ask how to avoid picking sides, but was really about the way a scholar should conduct himself in office.
Another question was practical: if a student comes from a poor family among wealthy classmates, how should he behave?
Du Heng rubbed his chin. The questions seemed tailored for him—but perhaps that was just his imagination.
The exam was well-designed: most candidates came from decent families, so asking them to think from a poor scholar’s perspective would challenge their reasoning.
He first wrote the poetry, then began tackling the essay questions in an orderly fashion. The essays didn’t demand long treatises—only two or three hundred characters each—so it felt somewhat restrictive.
While Du Heng was diligently answering the exam, he had no idea that chaos had already erupted back at home.
Early that morning, when the sky was still gray, Qin Xiao Man awoke in bed feeling uneasy. A faint, persistent pain spread through his body. In his half-sleep, he thought it was a dream, only to realize it was real when the pain intensified.
He quickly called for Qin Qi to fetch the midwife. Within a moment, she arrived, accompanied by Sun Dongmei.
The midwife examined Xiao Man and confirmed that labor had begun, though the child showed no immediate sign of wanting to come out.
Xiao Man, bewildered, asked, “Isn’t it too early?”
“Seems like a shock—maybe a jolt from yesterday,” the midwife explained.
Xiao Man groaned, “Yes, yesterday I did get jolted off the cart a bit.” He rubbed his belly in a soothing gesture. “You little one… why wait until now to throw a fit? Your temperament is far too leisurely.”
“We can’t just wait passively. You can’t linger in labor like this—if it continues, the child could be in danger. We need to call the doctor to induce delivery!”
Xiao Man panicked. “Ah! Quickly, summon Doctor Cui!”
Sun Dongmei had never given birth but had witnessed it in the household before. She immediately prepared hot water.
“This is serious—Du Heng must be brought back immediately. Childbirth is critical.”
Li Wanjü, hearing the commotion and that Xiao Man was in labor, came over to take a look.
“Childbirth isn’t anything unusual. When I delivered my first, I was still working in the fields. If a child can be born in the fields, giving birth at home is already fortunate,” she said casually.
“But what good does it do for Du Heng to return? He can only fret outside the door—no help at all.”
Sun Dongmei, understanding the risks of rural births without proper care, saw that Xiao Man was having difficulty delivering. She insisted, “Better call him—if anything goes wrong, there’s someone to take charge.”
Without waiting for Li Wanjü to speak, Sun Dongmei instructed Da Zhuang to rush to the city and bring Du Heng back home.
Xiao Man lay in bed, enduring the pain, growing anxious as the child still hadn’t emerged. He recalled his father’s difficult labor: the house in chaos, children running in the yard, excitement turning into worry as the hours passed. He remembered his father bursting into the delivery room crying, and a sense of fear rising in him as a child.
“Old Chen, am I having complications?” he bit his teeth and asked the midwife.
“Don’t be afraid. Childbirth is a test of strength. Some take half a day to deliver. This is only the beginning—no need to worry.”
Xiao Man wasn’t sure if this was meant to comfort or speak the truth. He turned to Qin Qi, whose eyes were red from worry, and said, “Go, fetch Da Zhuang—I want to see the master.”
Qin Qi sobbed gently, “Da Zhuang has already gone to the city. He drives quickly and is agile—he’ll be back in no time. Master, just focus on giving birth.”
Da Zhuang rushed to the White Rong Academy. When he arrived around noon, the exams were just ending. He wanted to go straight in to fetch Du Heng but was stopped by the gatekeeper:
“The students in the rear rooms are still taking their exams. No outsiders may enter before they finish—noise will disturb the testing.”
Da Zhuang, anxious, pleaded, “It’s almost the end of the exam! There’s an emergency at home—please allow me through.”
“I’m just following instructions from above. It’s not meant to hinder you. Please don’t take it personally.”
Before Da Zhuang could panic further, a familiar, calm voice spoke: “You came all this way? Did Xiao Man send you to fetch me?”
Du Heng had finished the exam early and was allowed to hand in his paper ahead of time. Stepping out, he unexpectedly saw the family servant.
Da Zhuang, overjoyed, guided him aside. “Master is in labor! There’s an urgent matter—please come home immediately!”
Du Heng’s heart raced. “Quick! Where’s the cart?”
Da Zhuang hurried him along. Normally, oxen were kept away from the academy grounds, and Du Heng would walk from a distance. But today, Da Zhuang, flustered, drove the cart close to the gate.
Du Heng didn’t say much, his mind fixed on Xiao Man, climbing aboard the cart without noticing fellow students at the gate.
“Why is Du Heng on an ox cart?”
“Didn’t he just finish his exam?”
“Which family’s son is he?”
“No idea.”
Two students watching the cart fade from view finally left.
Along the way, Du Heng asked for details. With each piece of information, his heart grew heavier—never had the journey felt so agonizing.
By the time they arrived home, the courtyard was crowded: relatives, neighbors, and villagers had gathered. Seeing Du Heng, they rushed forward, all talking at once, eager to know the situation.
Du Heng stepped down from the carriage, still staggering slightly, when suddenly a baby’s cry echoed from inside the house. Everyone instinctively fell silent and turned toward the birthing room.
“Oh my, this little one is really timid—must have waited until both fathers were here before daring to be born, otherwise he would’ve been too scared,” someone remarked. The comment, whoever it was, eased the tension of the stressful delivery, bringing a comforting warmth to those present.
A smile spread across Du Heng’s face. He hurriedly flung aside his sleeves and, clad in his green robe, dashed into the birthing room.
“Xiao Man, I’m back.”
Du Heng spoke softly, careful not to startle the newborn. Seeing the exhausted figure drenched in sweat, he felt a pang of concern.
Qin Xiaoman reached out his hand as soon as he saw Du Heng. When Du Heng clasped both sides of his hand, Xiaoman felt a sense of calm wash over him, as if his nerves were finally settled. He murmured, “It was so painful.”
“You’ve suffered enough.”
Du Heng quickly took a handkerchief from his robe to wipe away Xiaoman’s sweat.
“Come, let’s see the child.”
The midwife brought over the wrapped bundle with a smile. “It’s a little boy, very well-behaved.”
“Really a boy? I made quite a few clothes hoping for a boy,” Du Heng asked, somewhat uncertain.
“Yes,” came the confirmation.
Du Heng’s face lit up. He gently took the child, glancing at him before placing him in front of Qin Xiaoman to see. The baby was delicate and tiny.
“This little one is so light… must be only around five jin,” Du Heng observed.
“Boys are usually lighter than girls,” the midwife replied.
Qin Xiaoman held the child close to his chest, pressing him gently against the swaddling. The deep affection he felt for the child, born from his own efforts, was something only he truly understood.
Du Heng also longed to hold both the child and Xiao Man himself. Knowing there would be plenty of opportunities later, he first attended to the household matters. He gave generous tips to the midwife and doctor, then stepped outside to thank the relatives and neighbors who had come to help.
Li Wanjun had been about to make a teasing remark about all the fuss resulting in just a boy, but seeing Du Heng so delighted, she held her tongue. Du Heng happily told everyone they had wished for a boy and now their wish was granted; at the upcoming hundred-day celebration, all were expected to come celebrate.
She refrained from saying more, watching as everyone congratulated them. Shui Qincai brought out a bag of loose candies from home and handed them out, filling the courtyard with joy.