Chapter 67

When the points were finally tallied, Du Heng advanced to the finals thanks to his scores in agriculture and sericulture.

The Six Arts Hall and Li Min Hall were both popular and competitive, with high commissions; many students with good scores couldn’t even make the finals. Meanwhile, some students, seeing the lower scores at Nong Sang Hall, thought they might try it instead.

But young masters from wealthy families were generally uninterested in agriculture and sericulture, lacking the knowledge to excel. Even if they didn’t enter the Six Arts Hall, they preferred Li Min Hall to Nong Sang Hall.

Du Heng, on the other hand, hoped they wouldn’t come to Nong Sang Hall—then his only real competitors would be gone, and he could easily take first place.

This recruitment would select twelve students for the Six Arts Hall, and five each for Nong Sang Hall and Li Min Hall.

In truth, competition at Nong Sang Hall and Li Min Hall was still fierce. Smiling, You Huo, who oversaw the commission points, said to Du Heng, “Junior Brother, with your points, first place is surely yours. Don’t take the top spot and then not join our Nong Sang Hall.”

Du Heng rubbed his hands. “I’ll join, I’ll join.”

He joked with You Huo for a bit, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching him. When he glanced back, no one was there. It felt like a venomous snake lurking in the bushes, ready to strike.

Finding no one nearby, Du Heng relaxed a little, only thinking about finishing the last event quickly and heading home—he had the next two days off.

The final event at Nong Sang Hall was simple: a single test question, where each student expressed their own views.

The main point had already been the morning session, where all the students competed for commission points; selecting entrants for each hall was only part of the process.

It was already noon, and everyone was a bit hungry. The students could manage, but the attending gentry and officials had to endure until the last event before the banquet—keeping them hungry would have been impolite.

Nong Sang Hall wasn’t as lively as the other two halls, so selecting students was done more simply.

The hall’s low turnout wasn’t just because students weren’t interested—it was also because the county magistrate or any notable gentry hadn’t visited.

Officials served as directional indicators; wherever the wind blew, people would follow.

Du Heng concluded that those in authority didn’t care much about agriculture and sericulture.

The Six Arts were essential for examinations, testing whether a scholar had true talent. They were prestigious, a hallmark of the elite. Li Min was popular with officials—it was tied to governance and political achievements, and naturally needed to be praised for appearances.

Agriculture and sericulture, in comparison, were seen as ordinary—worthy of attention to some, ignored by others.

Du Heng fell silent as the examiner posed the question.

He was asked to write out the cultivation and harvest cycle of the three most important crops in Luoxia County.

Du Heng smiled, shook his head, and wrote down rice, corn, and sweet potatoes—three crops almost every household in the county currently planted.

The question seemed simple enough—after all, anyone with eyes could see corn stalks sprouting in the village fields—but it was tricky too. To answer fully, one had to specify the sowing time and method, which required either hands-on experience or careful observation.

It just so happened that Du Heng had woken before dawn to plant crops himself. He answered concisely, and in less than a minute, he submitted his paper.

The scholar sitting next to him grew flustered. He had written out a detailed answer, but seeing how little Du Heng had written, he hastily revised his own work.

After submitting his paper, Du Heng went over and tied all the prizes he had won that day together with fine hemp twine. When the examiner finished reviewing the papers, it was no surprise—Du Heng had taken first place.

The rules combined the total points with the final test. Du Heng had already been first in total points, and his test had no mistakes, so there was no way to lower his score.

Amid cheers from the crowd, Du Heng received the first-place prize: a hefty twenty taels of silver.

For others, it might have seemed a trivial sum, perhaps enough for a jade pendant or a finely embroidered fan. What mattered more was the prestige of being first.

Du Heng, however, was practical—he valued the prize money. It could cover two years’ tuition, buy two draft animals, or equal a year’s farming income.

Once the top five were announced, students who hadn’t been selected gradually left. The five new entrants to the Nong Sang Hall stayed behind for a few words of congratulation from the hall master, who also briefly went over some basic rules. With that, the recruitment was officially complete.

Du Heng listened to You Huo’s instructions while casually observing the others selected. None were from his class, though one named Meng Huaishan looked vaguely familiar.

Not particularly tall and with a slightly dark complexion, Du Heng was sure he had never met him in the academy. Unsure why the face seemed familiar, he noticed Meng Huaishan tilt his head—and their eyes met.

Du Heng immediately sensed the malice and disdain in that gaze. Surprised, he wondered when he might have offended this person.

“Senior You, the tutor is calling.”

Someone spoke up, and You Huo immediately cut off his endless chatter. “Very well, we’ll end here today. In any case, welcome to the new classmates. There will be plenty of opportunities to meet again.”

The county magistrate had also come to the academy today. After the assembly, officials, gentry, and tutors would dine together.

At such banquets, it was customary to bring along a few star pupils; You Huo was one of them. Du Heng, as a new student, was dismissed.

“Junior Brother Du Heng, I’ll be going. We’ll meet again at the academy in three days.”

You Huo patted Du Heng on the shoulder before leaving.

“All right, Senior You, take care.”

As You Huo strode off, the other new students couldn’t help but speculate about Du Heng. “First place—clearly the hall master must have favored him. I wonder what his background is.”

“What background? Probably just a street vendor making pocket money. Strange that the academy would let someone like that in.”

The voice carried, and Du Heng, just about to leave, couldn’t help but hear.

He had a good temper, but he didn’t know why this person seemed hostile. Turning back, he said politely, “Has the academy passed a rule forbidding street vendors from studying here? Or is this some new imperial law? I am but ignorant—please, classmate, enlighten me.”

Meng Huaishan, not expecting Du Heng to challenge him so directly, sneered. “Studying is noble and pure, yet you used to sell pork offal at a market stall, climbing into the favor of the young master Mu Ti. And now you have a chance to enter the academy?”

He didn’t spare Du Heng any embarrassment. Scholars prized dignity and propriety—simply hearing of selling pork offal in public was humiliating enough.

Du Heng, looking dignified and proper, with his presence commanding attention today, might have been mistaken for a young master from a wealthy family by someone who didn’t know him.

“Good thing I had the academy’s uniform to cover some of the poverty.”

Du Heng wasn’t ashamed by Meng Huaishan’s words. He replied firmly, “Whether I was poor does not affect the exam results, nor anyone else. As for your claim that I got into the academy through the influence of Senior Brother Mu, I must clarify: I entered the academy by earning first place in the childhood exam, with the master’s approval. I have followed all the regulations and assessments in the academy. Your words cannot slander the truth. Or do you think the academy itself is corrupt?”

Meng Huaishan’s face paled. Who dared insult the academy’s reputation? Others might speak freely, but no scholar should be careless about the honor of his own academy.

The other observing students quickly intervened. “A misunderstanding, just a misunderstanding. We are all classmates; there’s no need to take it so seriously.”

“Brother Meng, in this heat tempers flare. Why don’t we go to the south hall and north hall for some popular iced drinks…”

After several attempts at reconciliation, the crowd dispersed. Du Heng wasn’t one to chase grudges anyway.

He finally realized this must be the same scholar he and Xiao Man had encountered last winter at the street market, selling snacks. That day, Meng Huaishan had dismissed the salted treats and walked off with other students.

Neither could have imagined they would one day end up in the same academy—and today, Du Heng had even stolen Meng Huaishan’s spotlight. Had he not come, Meng would have been first.

Du Heng had never intended to stand out at the academy. Most students had backers; all he needed was to study diligently and earn a title.

He hadn’t planned to compete in the hall events either, only attracted by the prizes. Yet he ended up winning them—and drawing envy.

Achieving both, it seemed, was never easy.

By the time he left the academy, it was already afternoon—just over half an hour before the usual dismissal time.

It was the height of June, the hottest time of the year. Du Heng hadn’t felt the heat inside the academy yet, thanks largely to the two large lotus tubs placed with ice to cool the hall.

Inside the academy, the ice hadn’t seemed to make much difference, but stepping outside into the open sun, Du Heng immediately felt the heat as if he’d plunged into the suffocating belly of some monster.

He trudged under the blazing sun, already starving, carrying the prizes. Some he had stuffed into his book trunk, but not all would fit. With bundles in hand, he had to make his way to the city gate to find the ox cart for the trip home.

He hesitated—should he eat something first or push straight on to the city gate?

As he pondered, a cheerful voice called out: “Ah Heng!”

Du Heng looked up. The sun was so bright that his eyes squinted, dark spots filling his vision. When his eyes adjusted, he saw a familiar smiling face approaching him.

“Ah, did you stuff stones in your trunk? Why is it so heavy today?”

Qin Xiaoman ran up and immediately took the trunk from him.

“Why are you in the county town? I heard someone call my name and thought the sun had driven me mad!”

“I came specially to fetch you.”

Seeing each other, both were delighted. Du Heng’s earlier annoyance at the academy vanished. Side by side, they walked to the ox cart parked under a large banyan tree. Once all their belongings were loaded onto the flatbed, they both relaxed.

Qin Xiaoman wiped the sweat from his forehead and handed Du Heng some food she had placed nearby. “Lotus leaf chicken. That stall was about to sell out, but the vendor gave me a discount.”

“You know, I thought the academy meeting would let out early. I came before noon and waited, seeing other students come out, but not you. You must have been starving by now.”

Du Heng unwrapped the lotus leaf. The chicken wasn’t fat—just a young bird of about two pounds—but roasted in the lotus leaf, it smelled irresistible. His appetite surged.

He tore off a leg and handed it to Qin Xiaoman. “My senior brothers are all slowpokes. If the tutor hadn’t called us, we’d probably still be there wasting time.”

Qin Xiaoman pulled on the ox’s rope and took a bite of her chicken. “You eat. I had a bowl of noodles at our old stall before coming here. The street overseers are strict, afraid the ox might soil their territory, so they rushed me along.”

Du Heng ate alongside her. The sun was scorching, and Qin Xiaoman, having been there a while, had cheeks slightly flushed from the heat. Sweat soon soaked their backs.

In such sweltering, stifling weather, it was remarkable she had waited so long without complaint—and even bought him food.

Du Heng pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve to wipe her forehead, then handed her a straw hat from the cart. “Sorry to have kept you waiting.”

“No problem,” she said. “I’ve been cooped up at home for months, so getting out is a good thing.”

The market was lively, vendors shouting over one another. Du Heng noticed stalls selling cold drinks. A cup of chilled sour plum juice right now would be bliss.

The price wasn’t high—three wen per bamboo cup. Du Heng bargained for five wen and bought two cups. When studying alone in the county town, he had never been frivolous with money, not even a single coin.

He also picked up two large winter melons and, from a fisherman, bought two fresh silver carp.

Seeing his generous spending, Qin Xiaoman didn’t stop him. Once back at the ox cart, she finally asked, “You going home to cook?”

Du Heng laughed and took out the prize money he had won that day. Qin Xiaoman’s eyes widened. Learning the source of the silver, she slapped her thigh. “Why didn’t you say so earlier? We could have bought more food! Come on, let’s turn back!”

“Keep the money. There will be plenty of opportunities to spend it later.”

Qin Xiaoman pushed it back gently. “This is your prize. You should keep it. I don’t want it.”

Du Heng replied earnestly, “I truly want you to have it. Since coming to study in the county town, I haven’t been able to take proper care of you and the child. You’ve managed the household. I’ve only studied, with no chance to spend. So take the money.”

Qin Xiaoman couldn’t help but sigh. She had waited outside the academy for a while today and had noticed the students emerging. Though all wore the same uniform, wealth and refinement showed in their accessories: waist ornaments, fan pendants—all revealing a certain class. After classes, these students would gather in threes or fives to drink tea and enjoy themselves, carefree.

Du Heng had neither the time nor opportunity to socialize with classmates in this way.

Qin Xiaoman thought, if only they could live in the county town—no more travel, more time to study, more chance to interact with peers.

“Hm?”

Du Heng pulled her back to the present and tucked some coins into the pouch at her waist. “This is for little Yi. When he grows, he’ll be asking for treats and toys.”

Talking about the child made him smile. “Though I must say, the academy is generous.”

“Of course. After all, we’ve paid so much tuition.” Du Heng gestured. “There are also some prize items. If you’re curious, you can open them now.”

Qin Xiaoman couldn’t wait. She dropped the reins and rifled through the flatbed. Despite just having a child, she tore into the prizes with no hesitation.

Seeing that Du Heng had won twenty taels of silver made her thrilled. The various supplies—salt, vegetable seeds, rice, flour—made her even happier.

“This salt is fine and pure white—well over a hundred wen per pound. A pinch adds flavor to any dish. Excellent stuff!”

“And this cooling ointment—refreshing, clears the eyes. A little added to the bath water keeps mosquitoes away. My father used it sparingly, so my husband always bought it for him.”

Du Heng said, “Use it when bathing little Yi. In this weather, I’m afraid he’ll get prickly heat.”

“Everything is useful. There was even a leg of lamb, but another classmate won it.”

“These are all amazing. I think everything will be useful at home.”

“You like it, that’s what matters.”

Du Heng’s lips curved in a smile. The road had patches of shade and patches of blazing sun, and his back was slick with sweat. Seeing Qin Xiaoman so happy, though, made that sweat feel less oppressive.

After a moment, he teased himself a little: “You haven’t called me husband today. Are you still upset about what happened before?”

“You weren’t happy with me calling you husband before,” Qin Xiaoman replied, arranging herself and ignoring that the cart was still moving, rolling back toward him.

“Digging up old grudges again, are we?”

She chuckled. “They say scholars value etiquette, modesty, and restraint. Everyone at the academy gate already knows you’re my husband, sure, but classmates might laugh at having a coarse, immature husband!”

“I don’t care about that. I’m happy with you calling me husband.” Du Heng held her hand, damp from sweat, without a hint of embarrassment.

Qin Xiaoman leaned close to his ear. “Good husband~ I’ll call you that in bed later and you’ll be even happier.”

Du Heng’s ear tips turned red. “Stop joking. You’ve already become a father; act your age.”

She saw him tugging the ox’s reins, embarrassed, and laughing like a serious, plump white goose in the field. He didn’t realize she knew his nature well.

The more serious he tried to act, the more she wanted to make him break.

She lifted her hat and fanned him, but with no real innocence. “Hot, aren’t you? Look at your little red face. Let me cool you down.”

“Stop fooling around and sit still.”

Laughing and teasing each other, they finally arrived home, drenched in sweat.

Du Heng went straight to the house and took a cold-water shower. Two large tubs of well water were ready, not far from Cheng Yi.

In the scorching afternoon, Shui Qincai fanned herself by the well while dozing lightly. Summer days were long but flew by quickly.

Since leaving her confinement, Qin Xiaoman hadn’t been idle. She led Da Zhuang up the mountain to gather firewood. She had heard that a wealthy family in town wanted to build a bamboo summer house on their estate to escape the heat, and needed bamboo for construction.

Thinking it a good way to earn money, she realized the private mountain had thrived in the past two years; the bamboo grew straight and strong. Cutting some for sale would also thin out the forest, which was better for the land.

Da Zhuang reported back that the buyers would pay twenty-five wen per bamboo stalk, and the bamboo only needed to be placed along the main road.

Qin Xiaoman immediately agreed. Cutting a hundred or so stalks could earn several thousand wen. The only challenge was felling the bamboo and hauling it down the mountain, which required manpower—but with two strong animals at home, the work became much easier.

So Qin Xiaoman and Da Zhuang widened the path up the mountain for easier transport.

The household’s hired farmers came to help cut bamboo. Qin Xiaoman promised they could take branches for firewood—two bundles each—and so the workers were happy to help.

In truth, the farmers’ families had struggled that year. Some had split land from previous employers and now worked at Qin Xiaoman’s house as well. Two bosses meant careful choices. Whoever treated them well earned their loyalty; whoever treated them like slaves could not expect their effort.

Over time, the workers naturally leaned toward the Qin household. By the next year, they planned to serve only Qin Xiaoman, and their labor was diligent.

By July, when the academy’s mid-year break began, the courtyard was already piled half a man’s height in bamboo.

Qin Xiaoman counted eighty or so stalks and called Da Zhuang to announce that they would deliver the bamboo to the main road, then return to focus on the autumn harvest.

Du Heng picked up little Cheng Yi from the crib, still blowing bubbles of saliva. Before long, the collar around his neck was soaked.

The heat made spit dry fast, so he had to drink water. He was compliant but drank so much he often urinated.

“You little rascal, always making a mess. The water isn’t enough, huh?”

Du Heng had just picked up the soft child, checking the bib—it was still dry enough—but then felt the diaper was soaked through. He carefully changed it, a task he had grown familiar with since coming home. He was steadier than Qin Xiaoman, who had larger, rougher hands.

Qin Xiaoman was glad to hand over the task. Du Heng didn’t mind; he knew her mind was occupied with the batch of bamboo.

Later in the afternoon, Du Heng sat in the hall with the bubble-blowing little rascal, enjoying the rare breeze. Da Zhuang came running back, soaked in sweat, cheeks flushed.

“Master! That… those people said they won’t take our bamboo!”

Da Zhuang panted but spoke urgently.

Qin Xiaoman had been napping on a mat in the hall. Hearing this, she sprang up. “What do you mean they won’t take it? Didn’t we agree on a price?”

Da Zhuang shook his head. “They said they never promised to buy from us. Besides, they already bought bamboo for the construction earlier. No matter what price we offer, they won’t take it.”

Qin Xiaoman frowned tightly. “I even went there myself to negotiate the price! The bamboo is ready, and now they just say no? Do they think we’re nothing?”

Du Heng saw her expression and said, “Maybe they found someone offering lower prices and that’s why they’re ruining us.”

“I’ll go with you to check,” Qin Xiaoman said.

Du Heng handed the child to Shui Qincai, and the couple drove the cart quickly toward the buyers.

They didn’t expect the buyers to hide. After waiting a long time, they finally came out, arguing that nothing had been signed or agreed—no contracts, no marks. Nothing was official.

The earlier agreement had simply been a misunderstanding by the lower-level staff.

Du Heng knew they had no written proof, so there was nothing the other side could use against them.

Qin Xiaoman’s regret turned his stomach sour. “Even wealthy gentry can be so untrustworthy. I’d sooner rely on the word of someone from the village—at least they keep their promises.”

Du Heng comforted him. “Some people are just impossible. Being wealthy doesn’t automatically make them honorable. We just have to stay alert in the future.”

Qin Xiaoman felt dejected. He had thought the deal was settled, only to have it fall through at the last step. After so many busy days, this was frustrating beyond words.

Besides, bamboo isn’t something that can be stored for long. In this heat, it dries quickly. By the time they could sell it, it would be fit only for firewood, not even charcoal.

Du Heng looked at the neat stacks of trimmed bamboo and pursed his lips. “There’s still a way to turn this into something else to sell.”