Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Hong Er

“Is that the Hong family’s Second Young Master?” Madam Gao hurried out through the courtyard gate, all smiles. “Second Young Master, please come this way for a cup of tea and wait a moment. Class will be over soon. My husband never allows anyone to disturb him while he’s teaching, so please forgive us.”

“Of course, Madam Gao,” the young man said warmly. “I’m Hong Zhen Ye. Li Xue Dong and I are classmates from the same year.”

Hong Er swung down from his horse, gave Madam Gao a deep bow, and followed her into the Gao family’s small courtyard.

Not long after, class ended. Li Xue Dong came jogging in from the neighboring yard, breathless and wide-eyed.

Teacher Gao stood at the schoolhouse door, hesitated, and didn’t follow.

Magistrate Huang’s hint from yesterday had been needling him all night. By morning, he felt he’d finally caught the thread of it.

Old Master Hong wasn’t simply generous. He liked sponsoring talented poor students for a reason: he wanted to plant goodwill early, while those future provincial graduates and presented scholars were still unknown. Offer a favor now, harvest a connection later.

Old Master Kuan of the Li family’s Wang branch had done the same. Before Li Xue Dong ever became a licentiate, Old Master Kuan had bankrolled his county and prefecture exams, then paid for the academy exam.

If Xue Dong passed, Old Master Kuan could lean on him to take control of the Li clan and profit handsomely. If Xue Dong failed, all he’d lost was a few taels of silver—hardly worth blinking at.

Now Old Master Hong had found an even sweeter approach. Xue Dong and the Hong family’s Second Young Master had both passed the prefecture exam in the same year. Put two half-grown boys together, let them become friends in their lean days, and you got a bond deeper than money could buy: a childhood friendship between classmates, warm and lasting.

Old Master Hong and Old Master Kuan… both dangerous men, in their own way.

In the Gao family’s courtyard next door, Hong Zhen Ye set down his teacup the moment he saw Li Xue Dong and stepped forward with clasped hands. “Brother Li!”

“Ho—” Li Xue Dong managed a single syllable, then froze.

Brother Hong felt too presumptuous. Calling him Senior like at school was wrong here. Panic scrambled his thoughts, and his mouth ran ahead of his judgment. He bowed again. “Second Young Master.”

Hong Er’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you teasing me?”

“N-no!” Li Xue Dong flailed a hand, face turning red.

“You’re impossible,” Hong Er said, laughing. “We’re classmates from the same year. I call you Brother Li, so of course you call me Brother Hong. I’m older than you, too.”

He patted Li Xue Dong’s shoulder from above, easy as breathing. Hong Er was a full head taller, making Li Xue Dong look even smaller than usual.

“Brother Hong… please forgive me,” Li Xue Dong murmured, mortified.

It wasn’t only the awkwardness of never having dealt with social niceties. It was the sharper, heavier thing underneath: he needed help, and needing help made him feel guilty before he’d even asked.

Hong Er circled him once, left to right, eyes landing on the patched clothes—patch on patch, mismatched colors, worn thin at the elbows.

“Your home…”

“It’s far,” Li Xue Dong blurted, thinking Hong Er meant to visit. His stomach tightened instantly.

If he went home with him now, how could they possibly host him at noon? There were barely any chickens left, and only one silver coin in the house. Eldest Sister was saving that coin to buy cotton for weaving.

Hong Er stopped short, then scratched the back of his head as if he’d nearly said something dumb. “That’s exactly what I mean. Your home’s far, so before the academy exam, why don’t you stay at my place? We can share a room. If that feels strange, I’ll have someone clean up a small courtyard for you and you can stay there alone. How’s that?”

“No, no, I…” Li Xue Dong refused by reflex, only realizing afterward that he’d refused a kindness he couldn’t afford to refuse.

Hong Er waved it away. “Don’t be polite with me. We’ve been classmates through the county exam and the prefecture exam—how close is that? And I don’t mean anything by your home. We’re brothers. Don’t overthink it, and don’t stand on ceremony.”

Li Xue Dong looked so thin and so timid that Hong Er seemed genuinely unsure where to put his hands.

“Being allowed to study along is already a great kindness,” Li Xue Dong said hurriedly, remembering Teacher Gao’s instructions. “A great kindness needs no thanks, but if—”

“We’re brothers,” Hong Er cut in, slapping his shoulder hard enough to make him dip. “Don’t talk like that.”

“My family is poor, Brother Hong, your great kind—”

“That’s what I mean!” Hong Er exhaled like he’d been holding his breath. “I didn’t even dare say the word poor, in case it stung.”

“Why would it sting?” Li Xue Dong whispered, sweat beading at his temples. “Thank you, Brother Hong. It’s… it’s a great kindness.”

“Enough, enough.” Hong Er grinned. “See? You’re broad-minded. All right then—pack your things. I’ll bring a cart tomorrow and pick you up.”

“No, no—” Li Xue Dong swallowed. “I mean… my studies are weak. Besides Investigation of Things, I’m bad at everything. I still need to learn from Teacher Gao. Could I… could I go to your home every five or ten days and study with Teacher Shao for half a day, maybe a full day?”

He stumbled over the last words, cheeks burning. He was already borrowing a teacher without paying a single copper coin; now he was adding requests on top of it. The Second Young Master’s enthusiasm was so fierce it felt like being shoved toward a cliff edge.

Hong Er didn’t even blink. “Convenient? Of course it’s convenient. Three days, five days, ten days—whatever works. Let me think.”

He pinched his chin dramatically with two fingers, as if he were weighing state affairs.

“How about this: I’ll go back and tell Teacher Shao. He’ll decide how often you should come. And I’m telling you—Investigation of Things is finicky. If no one explains it, you can’t just read books and expect it to click. You’ll stare at the page until you die of old age.”

Li Xue Dong let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He bowed again, deep. “Thank you, Brother Hong. It’s a great kind—”

Hong Er burst out laughing. “Didn’t you just say a great kindness needs no thanks? And now you’re thanking me again. From now on, no more ‘thank you’ and no more ‘great kindness.’ We’re brothers. Stop being so polite.”

Li Xue Dong opened his mouth, then closed it. He wanted to say thank you anyway. He wanted to say it mattered. But Hong Er had already outlawed those words.

Hong Er patted his shoulder, amused and almost fond. “You’re really a bookworm. All right, I’ll go talk to Teacher Shao. I’ll come again tomorrow. Remember—proper classmates from the same year. Don’t you dare be polite with me.”

He clasped hands to Li Xue Dong, called out a farewell to Madam Gao, mounted his horse, and rode off.

Li Xue Dong walked him to the gate and watched him flick the reins into a gallop. Only then did he sag, wiping his brow.

Brother Hong’s warmth was a blazing sun. For someone who’d never learned how to stand in its light, it was almost too much.