Chapter 48 Before the Exam

Chapter 48: Before the Exam

This time before setting off, the five fellow students who were to take the exam had agreed to meet up in the prefectural city and then go together to pay a visit to that government-supported scholar.

Song Tingzhou wore a spring robe of a color similar to Meng Wan’s—tall and upright, with deep, dark eyes, his temperament cold and composed when silent.

But when he spoke, his tone revealed a hint of tenderness. “Little Wan, stay home with Mother and don’t wander around. I’ll return by noon.”

Meng Wan waved at him. “Come back early. Don’t eat anything outside, not even tea—especially anything from that Zhang Jizu.”

Lately, he had been whispering in Song Tingzhou’s ear relentlessly, practically telling him outright that Zhang Jizu was no good.

Song Tingzhou didn’t find it annoying; he earnestly took Meng Wan’s words to heart.

After he left, Meng Wan couldn’t concentrate on painting at all. He had no inspiration for half a day, so he put down his brush and went back to embroidering soles from the sewing basket.

Chang Jinhua didn’t know he was worried about Song Tingzhou; she thought he was just bored from being cooped up in the yard for several days.

“I’ve noticed that the xiaoge (young men) from the prefectural city don’t go out the way men from outside do, but they still go with their elders to buy groceries and wander around. Aren’t you being too cautious? How about I take you to the market to buy some tofu later?”

“I don’t want to go. You go with Sister Chunfang next door, buy what you need, and come straight back. We’re strangers here in the prefectural city—better to be extra careful.”

Before Song Tingzhou’s prefectural exam, Meng Wan didn’t want any mishaps. It wasn’t that he couldn’t sit still; he was just worried Song Tingzhou might suffer at Zhang Jizu’s hands.

Chang Jinhua chuckled. “Now you’re lecturing me.”

She got up, went to the kang, picked two shriveled apples from the cabinet, washed them, and placed them in a bowl on Meng Wan’s little desk. “There are only two left—they’re about to go bad. Eat them quickly. I’ll go find Chunfang and be back soon.”

Meng Wan reminded her, “Remember to buy a bunch of green onions too. We’ll make pancakes for dinner.”

Chang Jinhua agreed and left. After she was gone, Meng Wan took an apple, nibbled on it, and suddenly felt inspired. He returned to his little desk and began to draw.

In his daily rush to earn money, he had only ever read one storybook—once at the town’s private school. It was said to be very popular, with Fang Jinrong and one of the concubines liking it a lot.

The chapters weren’t too many, mixing classical Chinese with vernacular, so it was understandable. But it had a lot of meaningless descriptions that made it cumbersome.

Meng Wan, a liberal arts student, might not be good at anything else, but writing a storybook should be a breeze.

He cut his own paper and stitched it into a small booklet, already filled with more than half of it. The top half had pictures, and the bottom half had a few lines of text.

A full comic might be too novel, but this half-picture, half-text format should be easier to accept—a gradual progression.

However, he hadn’t figured out the ending for this booklet yet. Meng Wan pondered for a moment, then started writing.

“That Mei Lang moved with effortless grace, his face handsome, his folding fan wielded with such skill that he passed through thousands of people, and wherever he stepped, they fell to the ground. No one could get near him.

His jade fan, now spattered with blood, dripping all over the ground. Mei Lang’s face was as cold as a demon king reborn.

In the towering hall on the mountain, he flew to the rooftop, stood on the eaves, one hand holding the fan, the other gripping a severed head, its eyes wide and unseeing. His voice was cold and cruel.

‘Hand over Liu’er, or I’ll slaughter every last Cang Sect disciple on this Wang Mountain!’”

——————

“If you want to know what happens next, read the next chapter.”

Meng Wan put down his brush, let the ink dry, and closed the booklet. The cover was a comic-style drawing of an ancient man with a folding fan standing on a bridge, gazing fondly at a boy setting a lantern adrift under the bridge. The boy should have had a tiny crimson mole between his brows, but Meng Wan didn’t have the paint, so he left it out.

Young men (xiaoge) and women liked stories about breaking social norms and eloping with lovers, so he decided to go even wilder.

A martial hero falls in love with a spirit. After countless trials, the hero abandons the martial world and lives in seclusion with the spirit for the rest of their lives? Or go with a tragedy?

Better to play it safe with his first attempt—no need for too much shock.

A sound came from the yard—Chang Jinhua and Lu Chunfang had returned together.

“Chunfang, look at your sweat. You should buy some cloth and make a spring dress.” Chang Jinhua was softhearted; she held back a few times, but finally couldn't help giving advice.

Lu Chunfang knew she meant well. She sounded resigned. “Auntie, I know people laugh at me for going out to buy groceries, but my family lives off a dozen acres of land to support my husband’s studies. This trip to the prefectural city cost as much as two years of our food and drink. Cloth here is way too expensive; I’d rather wait a few days and buy it when I get home.”

She spoke these words openly, not letting poverty shame her or make her feel inferior. She was genuine, and Meng Wan kind of admired her.

“But wearing the same outfit every day just won't do. If you don't mind, I've got an old padded jacket—it’s loose, so it should fit you. You can use it for now, at least to swap out while your clothes are washing.” Chang Jinhua saw her wearing the same outfit all day, sometimes sneaking her underclothes to wash at night and putting them back on the next day, whether they were dry or not. It was pitiful.

Lu Chunfang was deeply grateful. “No, I don’t mind at all! Thank you, Auntie.”

Chang Jinhua came in with a basket containing a bowl of tofu. Meng Wan took it to the kitchen and set it by the stove. “Go find Sister Chunfang some clothes. I’ll knead the dough and wait for Cousin to get back so we can make pancakes.”

Song Tingzhou loved the scallion pancakes he made—layered with lard pastry, crispy on the outside and soft inside. He could down three or four in one go.

Why isn’t Song Tingzhou home yet?

Meng Wan sat on a little stool, his mind elsewhere, shredding cabbage. His eyes kept drifting to the yard gate. Once the cabbage was shredded, a tall figure walked through the gate.

“Cousin! Did they make it? What'd they say?” Meng Wan couldn’t wait to surround Song Tingzhou.

Though it was a bit inappropriate, the way he looked up at him was like a puppy greeting its owner.

Song Tingzhou pressed his fist to his lips to hide his smile. “They got to the inn yesterday and are settling in. We agreed to go see Government-supported Scholar Zheng the day after tomorrow.”

Meng Wan followed closely behind him into the room, still questioning. “Are you exactly five? No extras?”

Inside Song Tingzhou’s room, his book chest sat half-open on the kang, and on the desk were unfinished policy essays. It was just him and Meng Wan in the room. The memory of that tight hug on the road was still fresh. Every time he was with Meng Wan, Song Tingzhou struggled to hold back. He dropped his gaze and gently touched Meng Wan’s cheek—an action already out of line. “Exactly five. Today, I didn’t touch any food or drink. After we invite the government-supported scholar in two days, we’ll just wait for the exam day. Relax.”

Meng Wan grabbed his wrist, afraid that going on would make Song Tingzhou paranoid and mess with his exam performance, which would be worse.

“Oh, okay, I'll go start dinner.”

He ran out, and Song Tingzhou changed, then went to the yard to help him get firewood.

They had stewed cabbage with tofu using meat slices, a basin full of scallion pancakes, and half a basin of leftover porridge from the morning.

While they ate, next door, Lu Chunfang had just tidied up her room and went to the yard to grab firewood. She had also bought firewood from Ding’s, but only twelve bundles, and only burned extra at night when sleeping.

Two days passed in a flash. Song Tingzhou smoothly went with Zhang Jizu and the other fellow students, taking silver to visit Government-supported Scholar Zheng. Government-supported Scholar Zheng accepted the money and agreed to vouch for the five of them.

On the day of the prefectural exam, the weather was bad. When they woke up, the sky was dark and overcast, and rain was pattering on the eaves—a light drizzle had started.

Chang Jinhua worried that Song Tingzhou was wearing too little with just one layer. Frowning, she regretted, “I should have brought Da Lang a lined jacket.”

Meng Wan sat up from the bed and persuaded her, “The exam hall doesn’t allow layered clothing—only single layers. Cousin is healthy; this little drizzle won’t hurt him.”

Chang Jinhua sighed. “I hope so.”

Song Tingzhou’s three failed attempts had worn out her expectations. By now, she wasn’t as excited as the first time—unable to sleep. She just hoped Song Tingzhou wouldn’t get sick, would take care of himself, and return home safely to marry Meng Wan.

Meng Wan heard her muttering and thought, That sounds ominous—better not say that. “Auntie, go get the firewood first. Don’t let Cousin work in the rain this morning.”

Without him saying so, Chang Jinhua knew. She felt her way out in the dark to fetch firewood.

Meng Wan folded the quilt, got out of bed, brushed his teeth, and washed his face. At the head of the kang, a basin contained the leavened dough that had been prepared the night before. He carried it to the kitchen, along with another basin of red bean paste that had been steamed the previous evening; they would make red bean buns for breakfast.

He worked quickly, and by the time Chang Jinhua came in, he was already rolling out the bun wrappers.

"Everything ready?"

Chang Jinhua dragged in half a bundle of firewood, patting her damp shoulder. "The rain isn't heavy, but the weather is too cold and damp. You'd better put on your padded jacket later."

Meng Wan added water to the steamer pot. "I'm not cold. Once I put on my vest, I'll be warm."

He quickly pinched the buns shut and placed them on the steamer rack. Chang Jinhua lit the stove and added the firewood.

Song Tingzhou also arrived, carrying his book box and an umbrella. "Why bother making buns? Just boiling some porridge would have been fine."

Meng Wan placed all the buns into the pot and disagreed, "People would go to any lengths—even serve dragon liver and phoenix marrow. Sister Chunfang even bought meat yesterday. What's so troublesome about steaming some buns? Besides, it's not advisable to eat porridge or soup before an exam. Drinking a bellyful of soup will only make you hungry soon after. Flour-based food fills you up."

Song Tingzhou would be gone for a whole day; eating well would help him answer the questions.

Just as they were talking, the scent of meat wafted from the neighboring house. Chang Jinhua remarked with surprise, "They used to not even buy a bit of meat, and now for this exam, they had a meal last night and another early this morning?"

Meng Wan said, "Going so long without meat, eating like this right before the exam might upset their stomachs. Aunt, why don't you go and remind them?"

Chang Jinhua had never heard of such a thing. "I'll go mention it, but I won't force them to listen."

She stepped out, and Song Tingzhou took over tending the fire.

"Wan'er..." Song Tingzhou wanted to ask what would happen if he failed this time, but after calling Meng Wan's name, he trailed off.

If he passed, he'd marry Meng Wan; if he didn't, he'd still marry no one else.

Meng Wan seemed to know what he was about to ask. Before an exam, thoughts are bound to be chaotic, and people think about all sorts of things—understandable—Meng Wan had gone through the college entrance exam himself.

"Passing this exam is only the first step on the road to the imperial examinations. If you want to take this path, not everything goes smoothly. What if you don't pass? Come again next year."

White steam rose from the edge of the pot. Meng Wan bent slightly. "Song Tingzhou, do your best. No matter the result, after the exam, we're going home to get married."

Song Tingzhou sat in front of the stove, looking up at him, his eyes seeming to shimmer. "Alright, no matter the result, we'll go home and get married!"

The buns still needed to steam for a while. Meng Wan opened Song Tingzhou's book box and carefully checked everything, one by one. "Cousin, since there aren't many things, why not use a handbasket instead of the book box? It's small and doesn't take up much space."

Song Tingzhou nodded in agreement. "Alright."

Meng Wan added, "Keep the handbasket in front of you and hold it carefully. Some people, if they fail the exam, deliberately slip notes into candidates' baskets to frame them."

Meng Wan found Zhang Jizu highly suspicious, but since he and Song Tingzhou had found a guarantor together, being caught would lead to collective punishment. Unless he was insane, he wouldn't do something that harms others without benefiting himself. Still, it was better to remind Song Tingzhou.

He gave detailed instructions, and Song Tingzhou took it to heart.

Before long, Chang Jinhua returned, looking dejected. "My good intentions were completely wasted. Mr. Feng actually thought I was after his meat."

She only meant well, but the couple wouldn't believe her. Chunfang knew it was well-intentioned and thanked her anyway, but Scholar Feng not only dismissed it but also mocked her. The point was that his family was poor, but the meat they bought was legitimate—why could the Song family have meat every day, but his family couldn't afford two meals of it?

Meng Wan couldn't help but laugh. "He's about to take the county exam for the *xiucai* degree, yet he acts so petty. What's the difference between him and a poor kid guarding his meat from others?"

Chang Jinhua agreed, "Exactly!"

Never mind the Fengs. The buns were done, and they picked them into a plate and set them on the table. The three of them began to eat.

On a slightly cold early morning, two soft red bean buns soothed the stomach.

After the meal, it was only about quarter to four (around 4:00 AM). The rain was still falling, and the household had only two umbrellas. Meng Wan shared one with Chang Jinhua.

Coincidentally, the neighbors were also about to leave. Feng Jinzhang was still greasy-lipped. Perhaps he had come to his senses, because when he saw Chang Jinhua, he acted condescendingly and thanked her. His thanks only annoyed her further.

Lu Chunfang walked Feng Jinzhang to the gate and went back inside. Meng Wan was a bit surprised. "Mr. Feng, isn't your wife seeing you off to the examination hall today?"

Feng Jinzhang's face showed slight discomfort. "She's just a woman, she doesn't understand anything. It's useless for her to go. Better she waits at home. I have classmates to go with."

Meng Wan immediately understood—he was embarrassed to bring his wife, afraid his classmates would see her.

Meng Wan was disgusted by his sexism and pulled Chang Jinhua to keep their distance from him.