This summer had been fiercely dry, yet by late autumn, the cold had already approached that of the winter months. By October, the chill was biting.
Next August would bring the county exams. Many academy students were preparing to take them, and with little time left, the scholarly atmosphere at the academy was intense.
Previously, the county exams included interviews in the Five Arts (wuyi), which were strict. However, talented students from poor families often failed, with places typically going to those from wealthy families. To make the exams fairer and more open to talented scholars from across the country, the Five Arts interviews were canceled.
Bai Rong Academy, established long ago, still retained the Six Arts tradition. Though not mandatory for all students, it allowed poor scholars to gain experience, which could be useful when the time came.
The cold was harsh. Du Heng had added a quilted vest under his academy robe. Though the style was plain, it kept him genuinely warm.
During class, Du Heng’s hands had loosened up as he jotted down the master’s key points; writing flowed smoothly now.
He thought the cotton fabric was quite good. After school in the afternoon, he went to the shop again with Qin Xiaoman, planning to buy a few more bolts—enough to make winter clothes for Shui Qincai and Da Zhuang as well.
The streets were shrouded in thick fog, the common folk holding their hands close and hunching their shoulders against the cold. Each exhaled breath formed clouds of white mist in the air.
Since it was still some time before the New Year, the county had yet to show any festive signs; no lanterns or decorations were up, making the streets feel all the colder and more desolate.
The two of them emerged from the shop carrying the bolts of cloth and noticed a vendor selling candied hawthorns by the roadside. Du Heng handed over two wen to buy a skewer for little Chengyi.
“No hawthorn, I want sweet pear,” Qin Xiaoman reminded him. The child disliked sour foods, preferring sweets.
Du Heng doted on his only little treasure. Even though sugar was expensive, he didn’t mind spending a bit for the child. Still, Chengyi had grown many milk teeth, and as they were fragile, Du Heng limited his sugar intake to avoid damaging them.
“This candied skewer is for him now, but don’t give him any more sweets tonight,” Qin Xiaoman said, wrapping it in a piece of cloth inside the child’s jacket. “He’ll fuss for sweet water before bed otherwise. You can’t just let him go without it.”
“A little coaxing will do. Yesterday I let him try some sugar water, and he went right to sleep. He’s easy to please.”
Back when they had weaned the child, a bit of sweetness had been used to calm him during the transition. Though the milk had long stopped, he had grown accustomed to sweets.
“Got it,” Qin Xiaoman replied.
They climbed into the carriage, placing the fabrics inside. Neither wanted the other to sit alone in the cold wind, so they shared the ride, braving the chill together.
“Giddy-up~”
“Slow down a bit,” Qin Xiaoman urged, pulling on the reins. A cart carrying large sacks of hemp bumped dangerously close to them.
“Even now, the county’s carts and horses are busy transporting grain,” Qin Xiaoman remarked. “Our own grain hasn’t been sold yet. I heard prices are rising—should we take some to the granary now?”
After the autumn harvest, the hired laborers had rushed to deliver the grain home. With ample space, storage wasn’t an issue. Du Heng had also checked the harvest and weather, predicting prices might rise. They had waited, and now his forecast had proven accurate: yields were below average, and with the northwest conflict, grain had become even more valuable.
“No rush. We don’t need cash immediately, so there’s no reason to sell yet,” Du Heng said. Qin Xiaoman nodded in agreement.
When they arrived home, dusk had fallen. Chengyi, feeling the cold, had been huddled in the kitchen next to Shui Qincai as she cooked. Hearing the horses, he ran to the door, shouting, “Daddy!”
Qin Xiaoman jumped down and scooped the warm little boy into his arms, holding him close.
“Bao’er, you’re so warm today,” he murmured.
Chengyi held his warm hands against Qin Xiaoman’s face. “Little brother makes Daddy warm.”
Qin Xiaoman planted a kiss on the plump cheek. “Good boy.”
“Knowing my little treasure is so well-behaved, today Daddy bought a sweet candied skewer for him.”
Chengyi clapped his hands, revealing a row of milk teeth. “Thank you, Daddy!”
Du Heng parked the carriage and rubbed the child’s head.
“Master.”
Da Zhuang hadn’t wanted to interrupt the family moment, but the matter was urgent. Holding a brocade box, he spoke: “Someone visited today and left this. It’s from the Xiao family.”
Du Heng’s brow twitched. Opening the box, he found not gold or silver, but a thin deed.
Qin Xiaoman set the sugar-skewered Chengyi on his lap. Picking up the paper, he read carefully, pronouncing each word: “Anjiu Street, Pingyun Lane, a two-courtyard residence.”
His eyes widened. “Who… who would send this to us?”
Since Du Heng became a scholar, many had tried to flatter him. His family only accepted small gifts of livestock or fruit from local villagers.
Qin Xiaoman knew better than to be dazzled by immediate gains; he always considered long-term consequences. Though used to people trying to push things on them, this was the first time the offering was so valuable.
A simple sheet of paper, yet it represented a prime two-courtyard house in the county—worth hundreds of taels. It was almost too hot to touch, so he hastily returned it to the box.
Du Heng recounted the banquet events to Qin Xiaoman briefly.
“I originally refused, but that gentleman didn’t give up. He must truly think highly of me.”
Merchants often supported scholars. Investing early was less costly than currying favor with those already prominent. Scholars were valued as both an honor and a long-term advantage. Even scholarly families sought to nurture and elevate promising students.
“That… we can’t accept this!”
Qin Xiaoman spoke immediately. He had long planned to buy a residence in the county himself, and he dared not accept such a gift from outsiders.
Moreover, he was used to earning and purchasing everything with his own hard work, down to every single coin. His father, being a scholar, understood better than most farmers the sense of pride and self-respect a scholar should hold.
Even scholars who had passed the provincial examination and were exempt from taxes sometimes refused lavish offerings from merchants eager to curry favor. Many scholars maintained a reputation of integrity, refusing gifts outright.
He felt extremely uneasy accepting something so valuable without earning it.
Seeing Qin Xiaoman tense up as if facing a great threat, Du Heng chuckled lightly. “Now you understand why I haven’t bothered making connections in the county, right? Plenty of so-called ‘benefactors’ want to provide things for scholars—and some even deliver them straight to your home. But there’s no such thing as a free meal in this world. If you accept someone’s kindness today, you’ll have to return the favor someday.”
He spoke from experience. Back then, he had accepted some rice cakes from Qin Xiaoman. Being soft in the mouth of the giver, he had been drawn in and ended up obliged—having to marry in and all.
Qin Xiaoman smiled. “That’s not entirely true. I didn’t stop you from going.”
“True enough. I was willing to be an in-law husband.”
Chengyi, licking his candied skewer, asked, “What’s an in-law husband?”
“That’s a daddy who can cook and make clothes for our little brother,” Du Heng explained.
Chengyi blinked in disbelief. An in-law husband could do so much! “Daddy is amazing!”
“You’ll be an in-law husband when you grow up too,” Du Heng teased.
Du Heng laughed. “But you can’t be one.”
Hearing his father deny it, Chengyi’s candy didn’t taste sweet anymore. “Why not?”
“The bar for being an in-law husband is very high. Our little one is so short, how could you possibly clear it?”
Chengyi blinked. Their home’s threshold wasn’t even high—Brother Qincai could lift him over easily. Thinking his father was teasing him, he pouted and whispered, “I still want to be an in-law husband!”
Qin Xiaoman kissed the child’s cheek. With the candied skewer eaten, his face now glowed with sweetness. “Alright, alright. You shall be one.”
The next day, Du Heng personally returned the gift to the Xiao family intact.
Returning such a grand gift could bruise pride, but Du Heng was determined not to compromise.
Accepting a large gift from someone unrelated could spread gossip and reveal one’s strategy. It would make them easy to manipulate and compromise the scholar’s reputation for integrity.
“Master Xiao, this grand gift is far too generous for me to accept. Please forgive me for taking it back and allow me the courtesy of a cup of tea,” Du Heng said politely.
Xiao Fu personally received him. Though his expression shifted slightly at the returned gift, he was a shrewd merchant and said smoothly, “I apologize for the indiscretion. That day, I simply felt admiration for your diligence, Master Du, and acted rashly. Please do not take offense.”
“This is this year’s winter tea, hardy as the plum blossoms in snow—Master Du, please try it.”
“Your kindness is deeply appreciated. I am well aware, Master Xiao. But such a generous gift overwhelms me,” Du Heng replied, taking a light sip of tea. “Knowing you support scholars, there is another matter I would like to request.”
Qin Xiaoman was already thinking of purchasing a residence in the county. Du Heng, of course, had to help plan and strategize, considering how to invigorate the family business.
Recently, the county grain shops were booming, with prices high. Those who could afford it wanted a share of the market.
Du Heng calculated carefully: their family still had plenty of stored grain. Grain from past years had accumulated over time, and this year’s harvest of several dozen dan hadn’t been sold at all.
Besides grain, they owned ample fields. Next year, once the five acres of paddy fields were divided out, the autumn harvest would yield several more dan.
Even without opening a large grain shop, running a small one would be feasible. With village connections, collecting grain wouldn’t be difficult, and the business could succeed.
However, for smooth operations, the small shop couldn’t be obstructed by the county’s major grain merchants.
Returning the gift today allowed Du Heng to also request that the major grain shop owner leave a small gap in the market for him—ensuring they wouldn’t be squeezed out. This created a modest obligation without compromising his integrity, allowing flexibility in future dealings.
Du Heng didn’t want to offend anyone. Although Xiao Fu was just a merchant and far below gentry in status, money could move mountains. If angered, he could make things difficult for Du Heng, and Xiao’s wealth would be more than enough to pressure them.
Keeping interactions light but accommodating, Du Heng let the relationship develop naturally.
Xiao Fu smiled. Seeing that Du Heng hadn’t entirely refused and left a space for future exchanges, he was pleased. “Master Du, since you’ve said so, we can continue our interactions regularly.”
“Master Xiao is generous. Naturally, we shall maintain contact,” Du Heng replied.
After drinking two more cups of tea, Du Heng departed. Back at the shop, Qin Zhiyan came to see him.
The magistrate of Qiuyang County was on an inspection tour and planned to pass through Luoxia County on the way.
No wonder Qin Xiaoman had mentioned seeing more patrols in the streets lately, with constables directing traffic and order restored.
Even the craftsmen, clerks, and gatekeepers were repainting crumbling walls at the tribute academy, sweeping and tidying the shopfronts, and hanging red lanterns in preparation for the New Year.
Though rushed, the magistrate was attentive. His urgency pushed the staff to work efficiently, and soon the county appeared completely refreshed.
At this time, the county magistrate had also summoned the local gentry elders and talented youths to prepare for his inspection.
Du Heng, having ranked among the top three in the recent county examinations and possessing an outstanding appearance, naturally became a standard-bearer for the county’s young scholars. His presence was therefore indispensable in welcoming the magistrate.
This was a rare honor, one that every scholar in the county wished to partake in, hoping that a good impression might lead to future opportunities.
Du Heng had no intention of speaking or drawing attention on the day of the magistrate’s arrival. He merely prepared a decent set of clothing, enough not to appear shabby and embarrass the county, and then waited for the magistrate’s visit.
During this period, he and Qin Xiaoman were busy planning the opening of the new grain shop. With the experience gained from their first venture and some days of running business in the county, they had more knowledge than novice traders.
Holding the title of a xiucai (successful candidate in the imperial examination), it was also easier for them to rent a shop, as merchants and gentry favored renting to families of scholars.
Everything was arranged efficiently, and the shop was quickly secured, with Qin Xiaoman taking charge of the subsequent preparations alongside Dazhuang.
On that day, Du Heng neither rested nor went to the academy, for the long-awaited magistrate from Jintuan Prefecture had finally arrived in Luoxia County.
After lunch, Du Heng and Qin Zhifeng set out together for the county office. The magistrate had ordered some local notables to attend, and a number of prominent young scholars were also present. Only those holding at least a xiucai title were allowed to personally greet the magistrate; children of minor officials had no such opportunity.
Early on, they all stood at the city gate in the biting winter wind to welcome Magistrate Qi Kaisheng. Out of propriety, they could not dress too extravagantly, nor could they bundle up excessively, lest they appear unrefined. The cold made them shiver, yet they could not show it.
Du Heng, young and healthy, could endure it, but the older gentry kept producing handkerchiefs from their sleeves to wipe their noses.
After waiting silently for about an hour, the sound of galloping horses finally reached their ears—the magistrate had arrived.
A line of guards with drawn swords led the way, followed by a spacious carriage, and then two rows of soldiers at the rear.
The magistrate’s arrival was a grand affair, as he had come to inspect taxes and supervise the collection of military grain. Naturally, his presence carried an impressive air.
The carriage stopped at the city gate, and a sharp-featured middle-aged man wearing a black gauze hat and an embroidered blue official robe stepped down.
Before Du Heng could fully observe him, the county magistrate stepped forward to greet him: “Lord Xu, I trust your journey was uneventful. I have brought the county scholars to await your arrival.”
Qi Kaisheng glanced at the gathered crowd shivering in the cold wind. “Thank you for waiting. The wind is strong and the air cold—let us proceed into the city quickly.”
The group followed him on foot back to the county office.
The guards led the way, then the magistrate, accompanied by the county magistrate, followed by a few minor officials, and then the gentry and scholars. Excluding the rear soldiers, Du Heng, as a young scholar, was positioned near the back.
Having traveled from Qiuyang County, the magistrate’s legs were stiff from the carriage ride, but walking now brought relief. Those who had been waiting were stiff from the cold, so the walk warmed them somewhat, easing their minds.
The county magistrate carefully introduced the street order and local agricultural affairs to the visiting magistrate along the way.
Qi Kaisheng walked silently, observing everything. Seeing the streets decorated with lanterns and the bustling commerce, his expression remained unreadable, making everyone even more anxious—especially the county magistrate, who was in constant fear of making a misstep.
“This is the Gongyuan, yes? Since we are passing by, let us take a look,” the magistrate said, pointing to the examination hall.
The county magistrate had long repaired the worn Gongyuan, knowing the visiting magistrate would inspect it. He led the party inside: “The magistrate is most concerned with students’ studies, cultivating talent for the court. We ensure the Gongyuan is well-maintained.”
Qi Kaisheng nodded. Though the hall itself held little spectacle, its condition reflected whether the county valued the imperial examinations.
He walked through the hall. Repairs were modest but visible. Returning to the entrance, he remarked, “This year, the hall exams were held, correct?”
Stopping by the announcement board, Qi Kaisheng observed the faded red list of successful candidates, the remnants of a few months’ wind and sun. He could still make out names and copied essays, displayed for scholars’ reference.
Seeing the magistrate scrutinize the board, the county magistrate remained silent.
After Qi Kaisheng looked away, the county magistrate said quickly, “This year, nearly a hundred more candidates took the exams than last time.”
Qi Kaisheng nodded. “Are the top three from the hall exam present?”
“Yes, yes,” the county magistrate replied. “Yan Yu, Zhang Huairen, and Du Heng. They have yet to present themselves to greet you.”
The three scholars immediately stepped forward respectfully and bowed.
Qi Kaisheng studied the three: two were older, and one—the youngest—was striking in appearance. Against the elder faces, his youth and grace stood out even more.
“You are Du Heng?”
“Yes, sir. This student is he,” Du Heng replied.
“I happened to glance at your essay. Concise and precise, worthy of the phrase ‘each word a gem,’ with some real insight.”
Du Heng hurriedly bowed. “This student is unworthy. I thank you for your praise, sir.”
Qi Kaisheng could not help but glance at him again.
The county magistrate, eyes bright, gave Du Heng a discreet signal as the group continued toward the county office, allowing him to walk slightly ahead.
Though he had not exchanged a single word with the magistrate on the way to the county office, Du Heng did benefit from walking near the front: he could clearly observe Qi Kaisheng’s features.
Qi Kaisheng had a narrow face and thin lips, his expressions rarely betraying joy or anger—a capable and efficient official. As a fourth-rank official, he was the highest-ranking officer Du Heng had ever seen.
Only when they returned to the county office did Qi Kaisheng speak a few words to the accompanying gentry and young scholars, allowing them to feel that their presence had not been entirely in vain. Once inside, he dismissed the crowd.
Du Heng exhaled in relief, thinking the day’s duties were done. Yet just as he turned to leave, a voice called out: “Du Heng, you stay.”
Startled, Du Heng obeyed.
Along with him, a few other young scholars were also asked to remain. Du Heng glanced at them, recognizing none, though all had fair features and upright bearing. The elder gentry, however, were all dismissed.
Uncertain of the reason, Du Heng accompanied the magistrate on a brief tour of the county office. Evening was approaching, and a welcome banquet had been prepared. The selected scholars were to share drinks with the magistrate.
Eager yet restrained, they raised their cups in respect. Qi Kaisheng drank, but when the scholars attempted to praise him excessively, he disapproved with a sharp rebuke.
Chastened, the young scholars fell silent, serving merely as decorative company through the remainder of the banquet.
After several rounds of drinking, the magistrate asked, “Du Heng, are you married?”
Du Heng stood promptly and answered truthfully.
Qi Kaisheng paused, then said, “Study diligently; do not grow complacent.”
“This student will follow your advice, sir,” Du Heng replied.
The banquet ended with little clarity or conversation. When they left the county office, darkness had fully fallen.
The scholars murmured among themselves: “I had hoped that staying behind would give us a chance to become more familiar with the magistrate. We did not seek favor, only recognition. Yet we spoke not a word.”
“Almost reprimanded as well. Truly, the magistrate’s emotions are unreadable. We young ones still lack experience,” another lamented.
“They say, however, that Du Heng is favored by the magistrate, being one of the top three in the hall exam,” a third noted.
Du Heng, who had said nothing, responded lightly, “You flatter me. I, too, spoke no more than a few words to the magistrate.”
With sighs, the group braved the cold wind to the street outside the office, exchanged farewells, and went their separate ways.
Du Heng looked up at the darkened sky, thick with clouds, not a moon or star in sight. Though red lanterns for the upcoming festival dotted the streets, the freezing air left the roads mostly deserted. The lanterns only accentuated the street’s cold emptiness.
He drew a breath of the sharp air, rubbing his hands as he walked beneath the eaves. The wind cut like blades, and no amount of clothing could warm his chilled bones.
No wonder the other scholars complained—forced to sit at the banquet, awkward and underfed, and now they still had to make their way home in the freezing night.
Du Heng had walked only a few steps when he heard the sound of tapping footsteps. At first he thought it was the wind, but looking up, he realized snowflakes were falling, scattering and bouncing off the rooftops as they landed.
He arrived at his shop, the street unusually silent. All the shops were closed in neat rows; not a soul in sight.
The magistrate’s unexpected invitation to dinner had kept him late, and his family surely thought he would not return. Qin Xiaoman had already closed the shop and gone home, as usual.
Du Heng wandered in the wind and snow without purpose, knowing he would not find a cart or carriage at the city gate at this hour, yet he still walked toward it.
“Move faster! At this pace, the gate will be locked,” someone called.
In a daze, Du Heng saw a familiar small carriage at the gate. Beside it, a figure wrapped in a headscarf, with only their eyes visible, waved at him.
He paused, then smiled and ran toward them against the wind.