Chapter 17
Chapter 17: The Good News Came First
No one expected Li Xue Dong to be assigned to the prefecture school.
Li Jin Zhu had always assumed the county school and the prefecture school simply divided students by distance—closer goes here, farther goes there. She didn’t know the real difference. Neither did Li Xue Dong. Neither did Little Nan. Their books didn’t explain it, and no one had ever bothered to.
Li Wen Hua didn’t know either, but he decided on the spot that the prefecture school had to be better. Studying in Ping Jiang City sounded far more glorious than studying in Kun Shan County. That was reason enough.
As for Li Jin Zhu’s worries—food would cost more, cloth would cost more, everything would cost more—Li Wen Hua shrugged them off. Their xiu cai scholar’s expenses would surely come from the clan’s public funds. A few more copper coins, a few fewer—what did it matter to him? If anything, he preferred “a few more.” He was close to the xiu cai scholar. Close enough to count as family.
Li Jin Zhu spent the whole journey stitching and the whole journey worrying.
By instinct, she felt the prefecture school’s lessons would be harder than the county school’s. And even in the county school, she wasn’t sure Li Xue Dong could keep up alone—truthfully, even Li Xue Dong didn’t know.
If he couldn’t keep up, someone would notice. And if someone noticed, they might dig. And if they dug, A Nan taking the exam for him could be exposed.
That wouldn’t be one household’s crime.
It would drag down who knew how many people.
Let A Nan go with them? Those two younger ones had never done proper work a day in their lives. Even now, A Nan couldn’t tend a stove without the fire leaping up like it wanted revenge, then dying down like it had lost interest.
Let Li Xue Dong do the housework instead? That was even worse. A Nan was following her brother under the excuse of “taking care of him.” If it turned into her brother cooking and cleaning to take care of her, what kind of story would that be?
So someone older had to go.
Old Three was careless and rough—no.
Old Two, then? Old Two was quiet, used to listening to his eldest sister, and unused to deciding anything for himself. And little A Nan… little A Nan was bold enough to stare down a storm, and proud enough to believe she could win. Old Two doted on her too much. If Old Two went along, Li Jin Zhu wouldn’t sleep.
If Li Jin Zhu went herself, she’d have to leave Old Two and Old Three at home.
And those two couldn’t possibly stand up to Third Uncle.
Besides, there were the fields—thirty-some mu. Two people at home couldn’t manage them. Split the household into two places, and the costs doubled.
Take everyone to Ping Jiang City? In the county town, she could almost imagine making it work. But Ping Jiang City… Ping Jiang City was expensive. They couldn’t afford a place to breathe, let alone live.
Sigh.
She would see when they got home. First she’d ask Teacher Gao if the assignment could be moved from the prefecture school back to the county school. If not, she’d see what Old Master Kuan thought.
The hardest part was this: she couldn’t explain any of her real worries out loud. The trouble wasn’t “money” or “distance.”
The trouble was that Li Xue Dong couldn’t openly struggle.
Little Nan stayed close to her eldest sister, watching the needle flash, watching the worry deepen.
Her original plan had been simple: start in the county town, learn the ground, stand steady, then work their way toward Ping Jiang City.
Now they were being dropped straight into Ping Jiang City in a single step.
Her heart thumped with uncertainty, and with an uncertain thing, she didn’t dare speak too much.
—
After the academy exam ended, the bright red roster of new licentiates was posted. Copies of the official notices were sent out to every prefecture by urgent courier.
Ping Jiang Prefecture was only a little over three hundred li from Hang Zhou. A fast rider made the distance in a day.
From Ping Jiang City to Kun Shan County was only half a day more.
Magistrate Huang received the notice forwarded from Ping Jiang Prefecture and immediately ordered gongs and drums. Men ran to bring the good news to the Li Family and the Li Clan.
When the news reached Little Li Village, the entire village stared like someone had shouted the wrong name.
Li Yin Zhu was in the fields when she heard the announcement. She was so happy she slipped, pitched forward, and landed headfirst in the paddy. Li Yu Zhu yanked her up by the arm, and Li Yin Zhu—dripping mud from elbow to fingertip—started hopping, shrieking, and waving like she’d grown wings.
Li Yu Zhu’s legs went weak. She shuffled to the ridge, sat down hard, covered her face, and cried—then laughed—then cried again.
The messengers took one look and quietly gave up on any reward money here. They pivoted and ran straight to Li Family Market Town.
Third Uncle Li Wen Cai read the notice once and didn’t believe it at all.
Impossible.
When he tried to snatch another look, the messengers had already raised it high and were sprinting away with it like it might be stolen.
Li Wen Cai chased them all the way to Li Family Market Town.
The town was already boiling. Firecrackers thundered outside the ancestral hall, so loud it shook the ribs. Festive gunpowder smoke rolled out from the doorway, spreading in every direction.
A group of young men shouted and whooped as they hauled thick logs toward the hall.
The Li Family ancestral hall could finally raise a flagpole.
And if they were going to raise one, it had to be the best timber money could buy.
Li Wen Cai stood in the middle of all that joy, stunned. After a long moment, he turned around and began walking home—slowly at first, then faster, his thoughts turning like a grinding stone.
He had watched Xue Dong grow up. When the boy first learned characters, he couldn’t remember even one after three days. A fool like that couldn’t pass.
Couldn’t.
The more Li Wen Cai thought about it, the more his chest burned. That stupid, sickly waste—how did he become a licentiate?
He didn’t.
He couldn’t have.
Someone else must have taken the exam.
Yes.
That had to be it.
And who could do it?
His sister.
Li Wen Cai stopped dead.
That lazy, good-for-nothing sister of his—the Little Nan girl. That one. The sharp one.
She could memorize after hearing something once. Remember after seeing it once.
It had to be her. She took the exam for Xue Dong and stole a licentiate for the family.
It had to be.
Li Wen Cai broke into a half run.
He was going to report them.
He was going to have that sickly fool—and that whole nest of girls—dragged into prison, exiled, destroyed. Every last one.
He burst into his house, shoved his wife aside as she rushed to greet him, and stormed into the main room. He pulled out his inkstone, ground ink until it was thick and black, found paper and brush, and sat down to write his accusation.
The women of the household gathered in a tight knot, needlework in hand, babies on hips. They stood beside their mother-in-law and craned their necks, watching him scribble like a man possessed. Even the sons and grandsons stood silent.
Now that sickly wretch was a xiu cai scholar.
Their hearts hung in their throats.
The eldest son’s wife kept sneaking glances at her own eldest boy, who stood shoulder to shoulder with Li Xue Fu. Quietly, she began calculating whether she should send him to her eldest uncle’s house to hide. That boy had beaten the sickly one since childhood—along with his fourth uncle and fifth uncle.
Now the sickly one had climbed out of the mud.
Li Wen Cai hadn’t written more than three lines of decent prose in twenty or thirty years. That night, he wrote page after page anyway—then tore them up, cursed, and started again. He filled two large baskets with ruined drafts before he finally produced something he believed could ruin someone else’s life.
He read it once, saw too many black smudges where he’d blotted words out, and copied it again. Only then did he tuck it away carefully and lie down.
Before dawn, he ate a bowl of salted pork noodles, stuffed the accusation into his robe, and headed straight for the county town.