That night, the little one woke once, whimpering softly like a tiny kitten.
Du Heng, flustered, fed him a bit of the warm goat’s milk that had been kept ready. The baby drank only a few sips before being full. He lay quietly in the swaddling, eyes open, gazing at the person holding him under the soft light of the oil lamp. He slightly parted his lips, showing surprisingly little energy, and soon fell asleep again.
Du Heng watched the lightly sleeping child. Though born half a month early, he had been nine months in the womb—a full-term baby—but small and fragile. Perhaps it was due to the mother’s illness earlier in the pregnancy.
Regardless, Du Heng was relieved that the baby had been delivered safely. Though delicate, he would be well cared for.
“Alright, don’t keep rocking the baby like this. If you do, he’ll get used to being held to sleep, and later in the night, you’ll have to keep getting up to hold him,” Qin Xiaoman, still weak from childbirth, cautioned, his forehead feeling chilly despite a thick protective band. He patted the bed. “Put the baby down so he can get used to sleeping in the crib.”
“It’s my first child, and a long-awaited little boy. Holding him for a while won’t hurt,” Du Heng said, leaning over the swaddling, unwilling to let go.
“Enough. Later you’ll have fewer chances to hold him. Save it for important matters,” Xiaoman said, lightly patting Du Heng’s hand.
Du Heng finally laid the child gently beside Qin Xiaoman. “What is it?”
Xiaoman tapped Du Heng’s hand. “You’re so happy you’ve gone silly. You think a boy grows just by eating cabbage? A baby can’t be left without feeding for half a day. Whether we get a wet nurse or feed him goat’s milk ourselves, we need to decide early.”
Du Heng realized his oversight. “Right, I almost forgot. Do you think we should hire a wet nurse or feed him goat’s milk ourselves?”
Du Heng could manage most household matters, but this was unfamiliar territory for him.
“I heard from my sister-in-law that Lady Zeng at the end of our village recently had a daughter. Tomorrow, let Qincai go ask if she’d be willing. If not, we’ll just feed goat’s milk,” Xiaoman explained.
Wet nurses were hard to find—preferably someone who had recently given birth and willing to help. Since this was a rural household, not a wealthy city family, payment couldn’t compete with city standards. If a wet nurse could be hired, it would be better than only using goat’s milk. Even with a wet nurse, they could occasionally buy goat’s milk to supplement the child.
“Alright, we’ll do as you say,” Du Heng agreed.
Xiaoman continued, “You don’t need to worry too much. The important thing now is giving the baby a name.”
Hearing this, Du Heng hurried to his desk and retrieved a small notebook. Flipping it open, he showed Xiaoman. “I’ve already prepared some names in my spare time. You can see if any appeal to you.”
“The little one was born on a good day, just one day before the beginning of summer. I heard simple, unpretentious names are better for the child’s health. Maybe we should give him a gentle, easy-to-call name?” Xiaoman suggested.
“Beginning of summer?”
“I was thinking of Chengyi—‘carrying forward the heart’s intention.’”
Xiaoman looked over the poetic, refined names Du Heng had written down. Chengyi sounded pleasant and appropriate. Du Heng wasn’t particularly literary, so as long as it wasn’t a careless name taken from vegetables or fruits, anything would do.
“Alright, let’s call him that,” Xiaoman decided.
At the time of the baby’s birth, Du Heng had just finished exams and happened to have a few days off, enough to stay home for two or three days.
With the household newly blessed by a child, Du Heng first went about delivering the news to relatives. The next day, the hired farmers, having heard the news, began arriving one after another with congratulatory gifts. At this time of year, the harvest hadn’t yet come in, so the offerings were simple—eggs, seasonal fruit, and poultry from their own homes.
Beyond the hired hands, close relatives also brought poultry to celebrate. Qin Xiong, who had gone out yesterday, returned today and hurried over to see his little grandson, bringing along several large cuts of meat.
In a coincidence, Qin Xiaozhu happened to be in the village as well, bringing two chickens to see her nephew.
During these few days, the house saw a steady stream of visitors. Du Heng juggled attending to guests while teaching Qincai how to prepare postnatal meals. Daily, he would bring chicken soup, fresh meat broth, and red sugar rice wine with eggs to Qin Xiaoman.
Qin Xiaoman watched as his swollen belly slowly shrank back after pregnancy, replenishing his body with the nourishing meals. The losses of childbirth were quickly restored, and he was soon lively and energetic again.
Du Heng forbade him from going out, insisting he rest for the full month of confinement. With nothing to do in the quiet house, Du Heng spent the days carrying Chengyi, twisting and turning with the child indoors.
Festive days always seemed to pass quickly. These two or three days of leave felt more fulfilling than any previous break. The following day, Du Heng was to return to the academy. Though he should have rested, he lingered in the house, reluctant to leave Chengyi’s side.
“Chengyi sleeps too much, napping all day and again at night, as if he can’t get enough,” Qin Xiaoman remarked.
“Children are like that. When he grows older and starts working in the fields, you won’t get him to sleep even if you try,” Du Heng replied.
“Then you should sleep now so you can return to the academy tomorrow,” Xiaoman said. He took the child while Xiaoman rested in his confinement bed. The little bed couldn’t fit three, so Du Heng took the window-side mat to rest.
May was not particularly cold, but summer brought its usual problems: incessant mosquitoes. The mat had no mosquito net, and they dared not burn mugwort or place strong-scented night-blooming jasmine in the room, fearing it might disturb the baby. Meanwhile, Dazhuang and Qincai, sleeping separately, could burn a small coil of homemade mosquito repellent.
“Why don’t you sleep in another room? Qincai can fumigate it first. You’re the one most afraid of mosquitoes,” Du Heng suggested.
“I don’t mind. I’ll stay here and sleep with the baby,” Qin Xiaoman said.
Watching him lie flat on the bed, fanning himself with a gentle, fatherly smile, Du Heng couldn’t help muttering, “You…”
Fanning himself, Du Heng reminded, “When I return to the academy tomorrow, don’t sneak out of the house again. Even if you feel fine, catching a chill now could leave a long-term problem.”
“I know. You’ve scolded me eight hundred times. I remember. Any further matters I’ll handle after my confinement,” Xiaoman said, finally appeasing Du Heng.
The next day, before dawn, Du Heng left for the academy as usual. Having been away a few days, he felt slightly uneasy upon entering the rear chamber. His mind had been entirely on Chengyi’s birth these past two days; he hadn’t thought about the exam results. Now, worry crept in.
If he had failed, it would be embarrassing—not only for himself, but also for Qin Zhiyan, who had gone to great lengths on his behalf.
The other students in the classroom were similarly restless, silently flipping through their books.
After a brief incense burn, Master Wang, who usually tutored them, entered, holding a scroll. “The results of this assessment have been released. Listen carefully to your new assignments.”
The students straightened immediately.
Du Heng closed his book and fixed his gaze on Master Wang.
“Ping Youtian, proceed to Classroom Twelve for your studies; Qiao Yingwen, go to Classroom Fifteen,” Master Wang read, then set aside the scroll. The remaining three, including Du Heng, looked expectantly at him. Before Du Heng could speak, another student asked, “Master, what about us?”
“Those whose names weren’t called will have to try again next year. You may stay here to continue learning until then,” Master Wang replied.
Zhang Xu, failing for the third time, slumped over his desk as if all strength had left him. Du Heng too remained in a daze. It didn’t make sense—he hadn’t yet figured out why his name wasn’t immediately mentioned.
Suddenly, Master Wang tapped Du Heng’s desk. “Du Heng, your classroom hasn’t been assigned. Go to Classroom Six now.”
Du Heng, puzzled, wondered why his name had been omitted. Perhaps his score met the academy’s threshold, but the master hadn’t yet chosen to place him? He didn’t understand the academy’s rules but breathed a sigh of relief—it meant he had passed.
“Don’t just stand there. Go now,” Master Wang said.
Du Heng rose, saluted, adjusted his robes, and headed to Classroom Six.
It was class time, but some new students were reviewing results for enrollment, keeping the masters busy while the remaining students studied in their rooms.
Passing several classrooms with no master present, Du Heng finally reached Classroom Six and recognized the instructor—Master Xiang.
Taking a deep breath, he knocked respectfully.
The master glanced at him, gave instructions for self-study, then left the room.
“Follow me,” he said.
Though Du Heng didn’t understand why, he carefully followed behind Master Xiang into the master’s office. Xiang retrieved an exam paper from a drawer. Du Heng’s eyes caught the familiar handwriting—he realized it was his own exam.
“I remember the first time I met you outside the academy,” Master Xiang began, “you came looking for a bookstall, but that day…”
Du Heng quickly bowed. “Master, you have an excellent memory. That day, I did not know you were a scholar of the academy—please forgive my earlier disrespect.”
“You have not wasted your diligence and love of learning. You achieved a good result in the preliminary exam,” Master Xiang replied.
“If it were not for your explanations and annotations of the texts, provided for students to study and observe, I would not have had the joy of passing the exam,” Du Heng said humbly.
Seeing Du Heng so deferential, Master Xiang, as he had at first, pointed to the exam paper. “You are a gifted student, and this paper is quite competent. You answered correctly when asked how a scholar of humble means should behave among wealthy classmates, saying that a heart devoted to learning would not be swayed by external circumstances. You showed ambition, stating that the hardships of the present are temporary, and a devoted scholar can change his fortunes.”
Master Xiang looked at Du Heng: “Yet it remains only well-written words on paper.”
Du Heng sensed the reproach and seemed to understand. He immediately bowed deeply. “When my uncle took me to dine with your honor, I thought only to attend the county school to study. I did not understand my uncle’s arrangements. Though I mocked myself for wearing fine clothes, feeling it only adorned the surface briefly, I could not disregard my elder’s care and good intentions.”
Master Xiang fell silent for a moment, seemingly struck by the words.
“Today, students are impatient, seeking only to embellish themselves without earnest study. In the end, they harm themselves and trouble the care and expectations of their families.”
Du Heng understood immediately. So it was true: his previous encounter at the tutor’s residence had left Master Xiang with reservations. He recalled that the master, known for uprightness, had first met a poor student outside the academy seeking books. The master had kindly lent him manuscripts. Yet later, seeing him at an official’s banquet, dressed in finery, it might have seemed to those familiar with his circumstances as if he were pretending to be wealthy and using connections.
After the banquet, the master may have heard the head of the academy mention admitting a new student. Knowing Du Heng had tried to curry favor, Master Xiang would naturally have been displeased.
Du Heng now realized that, no matter what he did, there would always be some who disapproved. Those concerned with appearances might judge him favorably, but those who valued sincerity would not be impressed. Ultimately, following one’s heart was best.
“I am grateful for your guidance, Master,” Du Heng said.
Master Xiang then continued, “From now on, you may come to the classroom to study. Tomorrow, you will perform the formal ceremony of paying respect to your teacher.”
Du Heng’s eyes lit up—this was truly a breakthrough. Excited yet still mindful of etiquette, he immediately bowed to the master. “Thank you for your great favor, Master.”
“You and your senior brother Mu Ti get along well. He also recommended you to me. Learn much from him, and keep your heart on the proper path,” Master Xiang instructed.
Du Heng nodded repeatedly in agreement.
Upon leaving the master’s office, Mu Ti greeted him.
“This morning, we truly became brothers under the same master. Congratulations.”
Du Heng smiled. “I thought I had failed the exam. I never expected such fortune.”
Mu Ti laughed. “It’s not fortune. You passed Master Xiang’s test. Originally, you could have been admitted directly with the headmaster’s recommendation. But since the master already intended to take you as a student, he had you participate in the assessment first.”
Du Heng was surprised. “So that was the reason?”
Mu Ti nodded. He had known from recommending Du Heng upon returning from the prefecture, which was why he had not given a definitive answer beforehand—only instructing Du Heng to prepare for the assessment.
Compared to being assigned elsewhere, Mu Ti naturally wished to have Du Heng under the same master. Du Heng thought how fortunate it was to pass the exam and clear up the misunderstanding; otherwise, he would have lost the chance to study under a good teacher.
“All right, I won’t accompany you to the classroom. Go settle your things. I’ll be busy with the Six Arts Hall for a while; we’ll meet again this afternoon,” Mu Ti said.
“Take care, Senior Brother Mu,” Du Heng replied, sending him off before returning to the classroom to organize his books.
The other two students had already left for their assigned classrooms, leaving only two in the room.
“Du Heng, where are you going? Are you not going to continue studying at the academy?” asked Zhang Xu, who had failed three times.
“I will continue studying. My classroom has already been assigned,” Du Heng replied calmly.
Zhang Xu’s face changed, initially thinking all three students were in the same situation. “Which classroom?”
“Classroom Six,” Du Heng said.
Upon hearing this, Zhang Xu’s expression shifted. “Master Xiang’s classroom?! Why didn’t Master Wang announce it?”
Zhang Xu’s admiration for Du Heng turned into envy. He had failed the assessment three years in a row, and yet someone arriving later had not only passed but also been placed in Master Xiang’s class. How could he not be angry?
“I heard that even passing the assessment, students in Master Xiang’s class must undergo individual questioning. Are you sure you haven’t been mistaken?” Zhang Xu asked.
Du Heng politely replied, “I have already undergone the questioning. I will begin learning in Classroom Six this afternoon.”
Zhang Xu’s face shifted repeatedly before he finally muttered, “Truly fortunate.”
Du Heng nodded slightly in acknowledgment. Though they had studied together for almost two months, the other students in the classroom were not particularly close. They usually buried themselves in their studies. Zhang Xu often left right after school, rarely interacting with others. Du Heng offered a few comforting words and then went to Classroom Six.
Thanks to Mu Ti’s introduction, Du Heng quickly became acquainted with the class. There were nine other students, all polite and friendly.
In the afternoon, the master came to teach. Compared to studying in the rear classroom, Du Heng gained in half a day what would have taken five days there. Indeed, it was no wonder everyone strove to study under Master Xiang.
After classes ended, Du Heng hurriedly picked up his bookbox, eager to return home and share the good news with Qin Xiaoman. Previously, to avoid worrying him, he had only mentioned an exam at the academy without going into details, but now he could tell him about the excellent results and the praise from Master Xiang.
“Du Heng, my father wants you to come by the house,” Qin Zhifeng called out as Du Heng stepped out of the academy. “I heard you’ve come under Master Xiang’s tutelage—congratulations!”
Du Heng was surprised; he hadn’t yet told anyone about it and wondered how Qin Zhifeng knew.
On the way, Qin Zhifeng explained that over fifty scholars had come for the academy’s entrance examination, but only twenty were admitted, and among them, only one was assigned to Classroom Six. Every year, the academy’s assessment results were closely watched, especially for the student entering the prestigious Classroom Six.
Du Heng was impressed. Though it was only an academy, the admission rate was low, and entering the elite class was even more difficult. He had not expected Master Xiang to accept only one student into the class—and that student was him.
Earlier, he had heard Mu Ti say that the master favored him, but he hadn’t believed it—until now.
“Du Heng, I truly was not mistaken about you. Amazing! Being under Master Xiang, your future is boundless,” Qin Zhifeng said.
When they arrived at the house, Qin Zhiyan called Du Heng over and praised him warmly.
“I will certainly apply myself diligently in my studies, not disappointing your expectations, Uncle,” Du Heng said respectfully.
“Good, good boy,” Qin Zhiyan said, beckoning a servant. “Bring these here.”
“Little Xiaoman has given birth, right? A son? Have you named him yet?”
Du Heng replied, “His name is Chengyi.”
“A fine name. You are now a parent yourself. With a newborn and Xiaoman still in confinement, you must be exhausted, juggling both family duties and your studies—it’s no small task.”
The servants brought two gift boxes. Qin Zhiyan lifted his chin and handed them to Du Heng. “These are a few gifts and some medicinal herbs for Xiaoman’s recovery. Consider it a token of my affection.”
“And when you go home, take one of the stable’s young chestnut colts with you. If you harness him to a cart in the morning, he’ll be faster than an ox—you’ll have more time to spend with the child.”
Du Heng immediately rose and bowed. “Uncle, your kindness is deeply appreciated. I will certainly bring these gifts back for the child. But the colt is far too valuable; I cannot accept it.”
“What’s the harm? A young colt, from our own stables. I’m not an outsider—you need not be so formal. It’s settled.”
Despite his repeated refusals, Du Heng had no choice. On the way home, he carried not only the bookbox but also the young chestnut colt.
The horse was smaller than the family’s oxen, full of life and energy, but not yet mature. Du Heng was intimidated and didn’t dare ride, so he led it back home.
“Really Uncle’s gift?” Qin Xiaoman said, hearing the horse and seeing Du Heng arrive later than usual. He had just sent Da Zhuang to look for him.
“A colt is precious. Even a young one not fully grown costs at least twice an ox. Uncle is too generous.”
Du Heng, a little exhausted from leading the horse, fed it some hay. “Uncle must have had many reasons for this gift.”
One, the birth of Chengyi; the little uncle delighted in a son, so it was a birth gift for the grandson. Two, Du Heng had entered Master Xiang’s class, bringing honor to Qin Zhiyan. And third, something Du Heng hadn’t expected—someone had told Qin Zhiyan about Lin Min’s involvement. Apparently, Lin Min had quarreled with Du Heng, upsetting Xiaoman and causing an early delivery. Qin Zhiyan felt responsible and wanted to make amends.
“Though not entirely Lin Min’s fault,” Du Heng said, “whoever told him is unclear.”
“I heard you don’t like Lin Min’s temperament, fearing he’d influence your son. You were fond of him, but after Uncle’s advice, he’s not welcome here anymore,” Du Heng added.
Qin Xiaoman chuckled. “Exactly. Uncle values his son and wouldn’t want anyone with bad character to trouble him.”
Du Heng smiled. “Anyway, the colt is home. How’s Chengyi? Still sleeping a lot? Eating well?”
“See for yourself,” Qin Xiaoman said, already eager to ride.
Du Heng entered the house quickly and saw a small cradle set up. Qin Qinge gently rocked little Chengyi to sleep.
“Asleep?” Du Heng asked.
“Just now,” Qinge replied.
Du Heng looked at the child. A tiny bubble hung at the corner of his mouth, like a little koi fish. He gently touched the child’s cheek, heart full.
“Where did the small cradle come from?”
Qinge said, “Our master had Da Zhuang commission it from the carpenter. They made it in time and brought it over.”
Du Heng sniffed the wood to ensure there was no pungent smell before feeling reassured. “Why bother with a small bed?”
Qinge explained, “Master said the child might be disturbed by mosquitoes at night. The small bed allows him to sleep under a net, while you can rest safely on the main bed.”
Du Heng smiled softly, glancing at Qin Xiaoman outside, now leading the little colt around the yard.