By mid-morning, Meng Xizhao finally got up.
He didn’t do anything productive, just hugged a warm soup container and sat on the railing in the rear garden, swinging his legs idly.
Madam Meng took Meng Jiao Jiao to another noblewoman’s coming-of-age ceremony. Eldest brother was at class, father at court. At the Cenzheng Mansion, Meng Xizhao was the only master present.
Jinzhu stood nearby, watching him swing his legs.
Suddenly, those two regularly moving legs stopped. Seeing this, Jinzhu, whose gaze had begun to glaze, shivered awake. She stepped forward to ask if Meng Xizhao needed anything, only to see him jump down, clearer-headed than her, and declare loudly: “A man should not waste his time. I’ve decided—I will take the imperial exams!”
Jinzhu silently watched, offering no comment, but sent someone to eldest brother’s room to fetch a copy of The Analects.
Meng Xizhao looked at the cover, seeing no problem. A true man keeps his word, so he immediately began to read.
“Uh… how do you pronounce this character?
Uh… no punctuation?
Uh… I don’t recognize eighty percent of this. Guessing won’t help…”
After a moment, Meng Xizhao calmly returned the book to Jinzhu. “I’m a little hungry. Bring some snacks.”
Jinzhu smiled. “The kitchen made some fragrant Su soup today. Would you like a bowl, my lord?”
Meng Xizhao wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. “Sure, bring some.”
While eating, Meng Xizhao reflected. Where did he get the confidence to think that someone who couldn’t even keep up with Tsinghua or Peking University graduates could try his luck in the ancient imperial exams?
Even a student from Tsinghua crossing over wouldn’t guarantee top marks.
If the exams failed, another path would be needed.
He was troubled.
Honestly, he wasn’t worried about his own danger—after all, he was currently inhabiting this body. If he didn’t act like a lovesick fool or an idiot, neither Fu Jicai nor the male lead could trap him. But the problem was, he calmed down, while others had not, and even if others calmed down, as long as the Cenzheng Mansion existed, the people behind it wouldn’t want them to rest.
Meng Xizhao felt he should do something, but even his indulgent family didn’t take him seriously. If he ran to his parents yelling about a conspiracy, they’d probably just call a doctor to see if he was hallucinating.
While he pondered, Zhang Jiayuan came running. “Second Young Master, the Ningyuan Marquis brought the heir to see you. They say they wish to apologize in person.”
Meng Xizhao blinked, setting down his half-eaten snack. “Oh, let them in.”
Zhang Jiayuan, the head steward of the Cenzheng Mansion, loyal to the mansion since Meng Xizhao’s father was a scholar, immediately brought them into the rear garden, ignoring whether the Ningyuan Marquis felt slighted.
Fu Jicai, dragged by his father, looked utterly indignant.
Yes, he was also a playboy, but he knew better, and he was certain he was in the right this time. Meng Xizhao had started it by pushing him.
Come on, he had already pushed him—wasn’t hitting him back reasonable?
The Ningyuan Marquis discreetly kicked his son. Once in front of Meng Xizhao, he plastered on a smile. “Nephew, I’ve brought this unfilial boy to apologize to you.”
The Marquis was much older than Meng Jiu Yu. Watching a younger man flatter him made Meng Xizhao uncomfortable, but he remained steady on the railing, tilting his head to appraise them. “Who are you?”
The Marquis froze, not understanding why he asked. Fu Jicai suddenly jumped up: “Meng Xizhao, don’t shamelessly play dumb! I hit you once, and you’re acting like you’ve lost your mind!”
Meng Xizhao laughed. This Fu Jicai’s head wasn’t much better than Meng Er Gongzi’s. He hadn’t even spoken yet; Fu Jicai beat him to it.
Meng Xizhao frowned at him, silently saying, Why are you so noisy? “I’m not losing my mind. My head hurts, and I can’t quite remember names or faces.”
Then he asked Fu Jicai, “You’re the Ningyuan Marquis? Not very impressive. Forty-something this year?”
Fu Jicai: “I’m twenty-nine years young!”
Meng Xizhao shook his head, unconvinced. “Impossible. You’re definitely not twenty-nine. At least forty.”
Fu Jicai: “……”
Ningyuan Marquis: “……”
Jinzhu pressed her lips to hold back laughter. With no other adults around, the Marquis wasn’t sure if Meng Xizhao was being deliberate. He looked to Zhang Jiayuan, who sighed: “Since waking, the Second Young Master has indeed forgotten some names and faces, but with reminders, he quickly remembers.”
Pausing, he proudly added to the Marquis, “It’s nothing serious. He remembers those close to him.”
Seeing him puff out his chest, Meng Xizhao naturally didn’t correct him. If not for his parents constantly calling Zhang Jiayuan’s name, he wouldn’t even know who he was.
Better to expose that he forgot people, and blame Fu Jicai. Seeing Fu Jicai’s eyes widen like copper bells—he’d love taking the fall.
Whether true or not, since Zhang Jiayuan said it, the Ningyuan Marquis couldn’t contradict him. He belittled Fu Jicai further. Meng Xizhao watched the heir’s face grow red, and it wouldn’t be long before steam practically came out of his head.
Meng Xizhao had seen enough. He adopted a detached, world-weary expression, turning to look at the babbling stream nearby. “No need to say more, Marquis.”
The Ningyuan Marquis, throat dry from shouting: Brat, why didn’t you say this before?
Meng Xizhao: “It seems I have little fortune. Any woman with even a bit of talent looks down on a man like me. I don’t blame them, nor do I blame the heir. How could someone fail the exams yet hold a grudge against other examinees?”
Fu Jicai froze.
His reddened face cooled slightly, looking awkward.
He realized Meng Xizhao wasn’t praising him—he didn’t have that brain—but since Meng Xizhao had admitted he was inferior, there was no need to keep arguing.
The Marquis’s eyes lingered on Meng Xizhao’s unfinished Su soup, while he tried to console the disheartened young man: “Nephew, don’t say that. If they look down on you, it’s because they lack vision. You are exceptionally wise, pure-hearted, humble, and polite. Far better than my scoundrel of a son.”
Meng Xizhao: “…”
He meant me, right?
Fu Jicai impatiently shook off his father’s hand, still stern but less harsh than before. “Hey, stop whining. As long as you don’t compete for Sang Fanyu, I can get you anything else. I already hit you once, so we’re even now.”
Meng Xizhao looked at him mournfully, making Fu Jicai’s scalp tingle, as if his mind were about to drift away.
“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t want to see anyone else. I’ve been disappointed too many times. I’m utterly hopeless now.”
Pretentious!
Fu Jicai rolled his eyes but sat down beside Meng Xizhao. Some people bully the weak, others protect them—he could do both, depending on his mood.
Now he felt generous. Although dragged here to apologize, seeing the recipient so despondent made him not only unangered but somewhat pleased. Pleased, he decided to do a good deed.
“You, son of the Cenzheng official, can’t be so useless. It’s just women! You weren’t going to find any before anyway. Come on, I’ll take you out and make sure you meet ten or eight of them!”
He reached to grab Meng Xizhao, startling everyone around.
Jinzhu screamed, “Let our lord go!”
Zhang Jiayuan rushed over anxiously: “Not allowed! Second Young Master’s body hasn’t fully healed!”
In the vast rear garden, only the Ningyuan Marquis had a proper sense of propriety. “How reckless! Fooling around yourself is one thing, but trying to drag Nephew along and meet ten or eight women? If he gets hurt, will you take responsibility?”
…So that’s what you were mad about?!
Meng Xizhao felt resigned. He shoved away everyone around him. “I don’t want anyone else! I only want to see Sang Fanyu!”
At his words, everyone froze, staring. Fu Jicai reacted first. “Ah, I knew your mischievous heart wouldn’t die!”
Meng Xizhao: “…”
He quickly explained, “You misunderstood! I only want to see her to apologize. Last time I disrupted your meeting, Sang Fanyu must have thought me a foolish pig of a man. I don’t want to hurt her anymore, but I also don’t want to be misunderstood. You are her honored guest—if you help, she will see me. You can lead me in, how about that?”
Fu Jicai hesitated. “This…”
Meng Xizhao, like a frostbitten eggplant, murmured softly: “Not possible?”
Fu Jicai blurted, “Of course it’s possible!”
Jinzhu watched, ready to applaud.
Such a cute little cat, mewing “miao miao miao.” Even she couldn’t match his charm. Look at my lord—this is truly endearing.
Hearing Fu Jicai agree, Meng Xizhao immediately seized the moment. While leading him out, he whispered in his ear: “You’ll manage, right?” “If it’s you, Sang Fanyu will agree.” “You’re such a good person, such a small matter will be done in three days.”
Fu Jicai got lost in the constant “Heir” praise. By the time he realized, they were already outside the Cenzheng Mansion, cold wind brushing his forehead.
The Ningyuan Marquis looked at him coolly. “Awake now? I hope you’re not like this at the brothel in Wazi. Otherwise, one day, you might pawn off our ancestral home.”
Fu Jicai: “…”