That day, Du Heng took Yi Yan to the county office to verify his household registration.
Household matters were mainly managed by Qin Zhiyan, so Du Heng thought it would be more convenient to check with him directly.
At the county office gate, Du Heng noticed something unusual. Normally, only two guards stood watch, but today several unfamiliar faces were present.
A few soldiers in heavy armor stood solemnly, rigid as pine trees, their presence far more imposing than the usual scrawny, sharp-featured gatekeepers.
“Master Du, what brings you here today?” one of the familiar gatekeepers asked.
Du Heng lowered his voice. “Have new men been hired? These soldiers look unfamiliar.”
The gatekeeper whispered, “High-ranking visitors arrived. These soldiers came along with them.”
Du Heng’s brow twitched slightly.
“The timing is unfortunate, Master Du. The county magistrate is currently receiving guests inside. He likely won’t have time to see you,” the gatekeeper added.
Du Heng replied, “I’m only here to check a household registration, nothing urgent enough to bother the magistrate.”
At that, the guards nodded. “In that case, just go straight to Chief Clerk Qin. He hasn’t accompanied the magistrate today.”
“Very well.”
Du Heng was curious who the visitors could be. If someone important came to the county, the magistrate would normally arrange everything in advance, yet he had received no hint. Clearly, the arrival was urgent.
Though he wanted to inquire further, the sharp-eyed soldiers standing guard made him think better of it.
The county office was unusually quiet. Du Heng and Yi Yan made their way to Qin Zhiyan’s usual workspace.
“Uncle is busy,” Qin Zhiyan said, lifting his head when he saw Du Heng, though a smile appeared. “Just looking over some records, not very busy.”
Noticing Yi Yan, a stranger, he raised an eyebrow. “What brings you here today?”
Du Heng explained his purpose. “I hope it won’t trouble you too much.”
“Not at all,” Qin Zhiyan said, pulling out a stool. “Sit down and check at your leisure.”
Du Heng did not decline. Seeing that Qin Zhiyan was alone in his office, he asked, “The gatekeepers mentioned high-ranking visitors?”
Qin Zhiyan nodded quietly. “Ever since the autumn campaign, the army was defeated. Now the court is preparing to garrison troops. The one in charge of this is Prince Liu. Each prefecture must set up a garrison site. The visitor today is General Weiping under the prince, here to inspect locations.”
Though Du Heng had been focused on preparing for the provincial exams, he was aware of such national matters. Even in their remote county, the news had trickled through.
The autumn campaign ended in disaster, with the court’s troops returning defeated within a few months, showing the army’s weakness. News of the defeat reached the capital: land lost, civilians captured, soldiers slain. The emperor fell seriously ill from anger.
In the aftermath, the court issued orders to designate garrison sites—a painful lesson meant to prepare for future needs.
“Will a garrison be set up in Luoxia County?” Du Heng asked.
Qin Zhiyan shook his head. “Not sure yet. It won’t be decided that quickly. The idea is to survey every county before choosing suitable locations.”
Du Heng nodded. A garrison nearby would keep bandits in check, but the closer it was, the stricter the recruitment would be.
After a quiet discussion, they confirmed Yi Yan’s household registration and completed his paperwork.
“I feel more at ease having someone capable at my side,” Du Heng said.
“You’ve gone to enough trouble, Uncle Qin,” Yi Yan replied respectfully.
“Nonsense,” Qin Zhiyan patted Du Heng’s shoulder. “I know you’re busy preparing for the spring exams, but try to come home for a meal now and then. Your little one always asks about you.”
Du Heng smiled. “The child was born weak. In this cold winter, he’s lazy, preferring to stay inside. I’ll bring him over when the weather is warmer.”
“That will be perfect,” Qin Zhiyan said.
Having finished their business, Du Heng left the county office with Yi Yan.
He made three rules clear: do not act without orders, be diligent, and be loyal. Yi Yan promised to follow Du Heng’s instructions alone.
Du Heng could trust him; Yi Yan was not one for idle words, and his promise carried weight. Thus, the household now had a capable protector.
He sent a servant to measure Yi Yan for two sets of proper clothing. Even working at home, Yi Yan would not appear as a simple hunter.
With Yi Yan settled, Du Heng headed toward his bedroom.
On days off, Qin Xiaoman usually stayed in the shop with the account books, perfect for consulting Du Heng on any unclear matters. The day passed quickly.
Yet today was unusual. Yi Yan’s matters were handled, but Qin Xiaoman had not appeared in the study. Du Heng wondered if the little one, Chengyi, was keeping him company.
“Still asleep?!”
Entering the room, he saw the bed curtains undisturbed. His voice barely fell when the curtain swayed and a soft little head peeked out.
Chengyi held up a finger to his puckered lips: “Daddy, quiet.”
Du Heng’s eyes lifted slightly. Matching the child’s exaggerated caution, he tiptoed over, crouched, and scooped up the little one. “Daddy’s Chengyi, why are you here?!”
He lifted the little one into his arms. Perhaps just having crawled out of the blankets, the child was warm all over.
Du Heng couldn’t help but hug him tightly, inhaling the soft warmth, and just as he was about to plant a kiss on the child’s rosy cheek, a tiny hand pressed against his mouth.
“Daddy, don’t make a sound! Little Daddy is still asleep!”
Seeing the earnest little one, bare-footed, Du Heng tucked the child’s feet into the folds of his cloak and raised an eyebrow. “Little Daddy is still sleeping?”
Chengyi nodded quietly.
Du Heng’s eyes widened. “How can Little Daddy sleep so soundly? The sun’s already shining on your little bottom.”
Chengyi whispered, “A gentleman came by just now. He gave Little Daddy lots of medicine.”
Du Heng’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong? Little Daddy sick? You were fine when I left.”
Chengyi shook his head. “I asked Papa. He said I’m not sick.”
“It’s because there’s a little one in the belly,” Chengyi said excitedly, hugging Du Heng’s neck and kicking his legs happily in the air. “Papa said the little one wants to sleep, so Papa wants to sleep too. Papa isn’t being lazy!”
Du Heng had been momentarily stunned, but hearing this, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Your Little Daddy really can say anything to get out of trouble.”
“Are you two speaking so loudly that everyone can hear your little secret?”
Just then, a hand pulled aside the curtain slightly. Qin Xiaoman lazily peeked out, looking at both of them.
Seeing Du Heng’s calm expression, he rested his cheek on his hand. “Why aren’t you excited? I have your son now, isn’t that great? Chengyi heard there’s going to be a sibling, ran around the room with excitement, yet you’re just standing there, smiling.”
“Today’s child, is it made of noodles or buns?”
Qin Xiaoman pursed his lips, raising an eyebrow. “Someone really made this one for real.”
Du Heng, seeing Qin Xiaoman about to say something indiscreet again, instinctively covered Chengyi’s ears.
“Don’t talk nonsense,” he said, eyes wide.
“What nonsense am I talking?”
Qin Xiaoman pouted. “This time it’s for real.”
She let go of the curtain, returning it to its normal position.
“What?!”
Du Heng rushed forward, lifting the curtain. On the bed lay Qin Xiaoman, calm and resting, eyes closed. “You mean… it’s true?”
The news hit him suddenly, leaving him momentarily speechless.
He placed Chengyi on the bed, covering him, then moved closer to Qin Xiaoman. “Really?”
“Second time’s easier than the first. You’re not going to be as clueless as when you were expecting Chengyi,” she said with an arched eyebrow. “I had Old Doctor Zhang check. It’s accurate.”
Du Heng, delighted, did not reply immediately. He pulled the covers up over Qin Xiaoman to keep her warm.
Chengyi, seeing this, climbed back into the blanket and snuggled under Qin Xiaoman’s arm.
Holding the little one, Qin Xiaoman slept soundly.
“This time it’s not uncomfortable like before. I barely noticed it. I was a little tired from managing the shop recently, so I had the doctor come by to be safe. I didn’t expect it to really be true.”
Du Heng exhaled deeply. “Thank heavens! I was careless. Good thing you were cautious.”
Qin Xiaoman touched her flat belly and smiled. “It’s only been a month. The little one’s still small.”
Du Heng placed his hand over hers. An indescribable emotion rose in his chest, and he kissed her forehead tenderly.
He pressed close to her, feeling his heart swell. “Wonderful. Chengyi will have a brother or sister. Our home will be even livelier next year.”
Chengyi quietly listened, resting his chin on Qin Xiaoman’s chest, blinking his wet eyes at Du Heng. “Daddy, there’s really a little one in your belly?”
“Yes,” Du Heng said, stroking Chengyi’s soft hair. “Daddy has your brother or sister. When they arrive, it’ll be hard work—you must behave and listen to Daddy. Understand?”
Chengyi nodded seriously. “Chengyi will be very obedient.”
He opened his mouth wide and said, “I’ll eat a big bowl of rice.”
Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman laughed at the child’s antics, each giving him a kiss.
That night, Du Heng held Qin Xiaoman, joy lingering in his heart.
“I’ll have to leave for the exams again at the start of the year. I’ll be gone for a month or two, so I won’t be able to care for you and the child properly,” he said.
Qin Xiaoman’s heart was at ease. Chengyi was obedient, and the child in her belly was still small. With seven or eight people helping at home, life was much better than it had been in the village. There was nothing to worry about.
“Just focus on your exams. I can take care of myself. The shop will have staff running it—I don’t need to manage it personally. I’ll just stay home and rest for the baby,” she said.
Du Heng chuckled. “You’ve planned this well. I know you’ll be obedient while resting at home.”
“I’m not a child. I’m not climbing trees or swimming across rivers anymore.”
Du Heng wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her fiercely. For now, her body was still manageable, but once her belly grew, he wouldn’t dare be so forceful.
The couple laughed and held each other close.
With another happy event in the household, Du Heng studied with more energy during the day and spent evenings closely attending Qin Xiaoman.
Life passed swiftly, joyfully, and peacefully.
In the blink of an eye, it was already the twelfth lunar month. The academy would give students the first day of the eighteenth as a break so they could return home and celebrate the New Year with their families.
Each student had their own plans, and once the break began, it would no longer be possible to gather everyone together.
On the evening of the twelfth, Du Heng was in the study when he heard the soft pitter-patter of snowflakes hitting the roof.
He set aside his studies and moved to the window. Beneath the warm glow of the corridor lanterns, he could see snowflakes hopping off the branches—sure enough, it was snowing.
Du Heng rubbed his long fingers by the charcoal stove. The snow had come at just the right time; had it fallen later, the academy would already be on break, and the gathering with his fellow students would be impossible.
The next morning, the rooftops and streets of the county were all blanketed in a layer of white. Du Heng sent the servants to fetch people while he and Qin Xiaoman headed to the market together.
The morning market offered fresh meat and vegetables. Though the variety of fruits and vegetables was limited, all were of good quality.
Du Heng selected mutton, chicken, and duck, along with plenty of fresh vegetables, and returned home.
After marinating the mutton, Mu Ti, who lived nearby, arrived.
“Looks like I caught you early,” he said.
“The stove in the pavilion was already lit; it’s probably warm enough now. So this isn’t exactly early,” Du Heng replied with a smile as he welcomed him inside.
Soon, You Huo and Qi Chenyuan, who lived close by, also arrived.
With little to do, the group ended up helping Du Heng season the mutton in the garden. They rolled up their sleeves and even prepared some of the vegetables themselves.
The roast duck went into the oven, while the mutton roasted in the snow.
The men sat around the fire, sipping the warm spring tea You Huo had brought. Outside, snow fell thickly, and the combination of hot tea and winter scenery felt almost poetic.
“You say you’re enjoying the snow with poetry and tea, a scene lofty and detached from the mundane world. Yet Du Heng, whatever did you season the mutton with? The aroma alone makes one linger in the world of mortal pleasures,” You Huo said with a wry smile.
Qi Chenyuan laughed. “You always have the knack for comparisons, You Huo.”
Mu Ti shook his head. “Drinking tea while the mutton roasts is already perfect. Even eating the warm tea by itself would feel bland.”
“Then I must apologize for my lack of refinement,” Du Heng said with a laugh, going briefly into the kitchen.
He returned with a plate of fresh pork and a hot brazier with an iron mesh on top, placing the pork directly over it.
Sizzle! The meat met the heated iron with a satisfying sound.
Du Heng sprinkled just a bit of salt and Sichuan pepper, letting the meat roast before serving it to the men.
“Used to delicacy, perhaps, but I invite my senior brothers to try this rustic style of eating,” he said.
The men eyed the slightly charred meat skeptically. Compared to the neatly plated dishes, this rustic roast looked less appealing.
Only Mu Ti, who ate everything, eagerly took a knife and sliced into the sizzling, slightly oily meat.
He had expected tough, dry pork but found it juicy and flavorful. The fruitwood charcoal brought out the essence of the fresh meat. Though the presentation was simple, the taste was surprisingly delicious.
“Marvelous! What do you call this? Rustic charm,” he said, nodding repeatedly.
You Huo and Qi Chenyuan, seeing this, no longer cared about presentation and eagerly tried some themselves.
“Mm~ It feels as if we’re in the forest, cooking our own meal by a campfire. One might even feel like a hunter,” You Huo said, though he immediately reached for more.
Everyone laughed. Having tasted the delight, they no longer worried about propriety, diving into the meat.
After a hearty meal, conversation turned to other matters.
“I see more soldiers in the county. The establishment of garrisons is moving quickly. I wonder if the recent military defeat will affect the spring exams,” one of them said.
Qi Chenyuan wiped his mouth. “These years, the emperor has placed great importance on examinations, selecting talented men from across the land. For examinees like us, it’s a boon. Yet flaws do exist.”
The group, being close friends, could discuss court affairs openly.
Since Guangyun Emperor ascended the throne, he opened channels for discourse and valued scholarly exams. Talented students received generous rewards, and the empire indeed drew in many capable men.
But with broad recruitment came too many scholars. The state could not employ them all, leading to graduates without official positions.
Even those who passed with honors years ago, without connections or family influence, remained without posts, awaiting positions that never opened. Some were sent to six ministries or local prefectures as apprentices, meant to pass probation in three years, but openings remained scarce.
Even remote counties with available posts drew many eager applicants.
In Luoxia County, far from the imperial court, scholars only knew that passing the spring exams brought glory, unaware of the hurdles after passing.
The bureaucracy had become bloated, reforms slow. Peace seemed stable, but it was only a thin veneer.
The rapid defeat at the frontier had pierced that veneer.
Inevitably, concerns arose that the court, shaken by the military loss, might shift focus to military affairs. Should the pendulum swing toward martial appointments, it would become far harder for civil scholars to rise, compared to before.
You Huo said, “The court hasn’t been stable these past two years. With this defeat at the frontier, it’s likely to stir up more turbulence.”
All of them were children of officials and naturally had access to better information than ordinary scholars. Now, gathered together and with the closeness built over several years of study, they were subtly hinting things to Du Heng.
When Guangyun Emperor was young, he had established a peaceful era, sparing the people from the horrors of war. Anyone would have to admit he had been a good ruler. Diligent and wise for over forty years, he had six sons, all grown.
The crown prince, born of the empress, had been appointed early and was a capable and virtuous heir, carefully guided by the emperor himself.
But Guangyun Emperor was now old, frail, and his decrees far less effective than in his youth. The overabundance of officials and bureaucrats, coupled with the military defeat, were proof of this. It would have been appropriate for him to retire and enjoy his later years.
Some upright ministers privately suggested he step down in favor of his eldest son, who he had personally chosen. There would have been nothing improper in this, and it would have been for the good of the realm.
Yet the emperor did not listen; instead, he quietly transferred those who had advised him away from their posts. His reluctance to yield had caused subtle unrest at court. His grown sons, not lacking in talent or will, might now harbor ambitions of their own.
Factionalism had quietly spread in the court. For these sons of officials, there was little fear of failing to gain office—once they passed the exams, family connections would help them enter officialdom.
What worried them more was their families being caught in factional struggles, where minor involvement could mean exile and major involvement could lead to complete ruin.
As for Du Heng, they were concerned that, though he might pass the exams, his rural origins and lack of connections could delay his assignment to office.
In reality, with his talent and demeanor, if Du Heng were to top the exams, there would be many who would take interest in mentoring him—provided he had the right connections. But that possibility was unlikely now.
In short, this year’s spring exams were far less stable than previous years. Political shifts and the court’s current state would certainly affect the exams. Whether the influence would be beneficial or detrimental remained uncertain.
The gathering over a meal of fine dishes had also allowed Du Heng to gain valuable insight.
The first snowfall lasted three days. After their gathering, the academy soon began its winter break.
The piled-up snow in Luoxia County seemed to signal the coming of carts and livestock, and as the friends reluctantly parted, the festive New Year atmosphere brought a touch of melancholy.
Du Heng saw each of his fellow students safely out of town.
Under the gentle winter wind and falling snow, the travelers waved:
“No matter the future, no matter where we are, Du Heng, don’t forget to keep in touch by letter and remember our friendship!”
“Safe travels,” Du Heng replied, waving to the departing carriages. “If fate allows, we’ll gather again, share tea, and sit by the fire!”