The Overachieving Little Husband of the Top Scholar’s Household - Chapter 118: The Metropolitan Examination Concludes

Chapter 118: The Metropolitan Examination Concludes

The second session of the examination also lasted three days. This time, Qiu Huanian was not as tense and anxious as during the first session. While waiting outside for Du Yunse, she even met with Guan Liu, the clerk from the silk shop.

Ever since Qiu Huanian instructed him to handle all the remaining stock of fabrics, Guan Liu had thrown himself into the task with full energy. In just over ten days, he had sold more than fifty taels’ worth of goods. Now, what remained were fabrics whose condition was overly outdated—so old that even at a discount, no one wanted them.

“There are still eight bolts of brocaded satin with various patterns, ten bolts of faded feather gauze, and sixteen bolts of fine cotton silk in the storeroom. Judging by their original price, they’d be worth about a hundred taels of silver, but their condition is poor, so they’ve never sold. I came to ask for the Young Lord’s instructions.”

Qiu Huanian sipped at the sweet-scented plum infusion freshly brewed in the teacup before him. In the bitter cold weather, he was increasingly fond of hot, comforting sweet drinks.

“Why is there so much stock in poor condition? How much wastage did the shop usually incur each year?”

Guan Liu wiped the sweat from his forehead, thinking to himself that the Marquis of Qi Shu was indeed hard to fool, and all the more reason not to dare any underhanded tricks.

“Brocade and fine silk are difficult to preserve to begin with. If stock is left sitting too long, the colors fade. Every year the shop has to clear out a batch of old goods.”

“This year is unusually bad because nearly all the stewards and clerks left the shop. With no one to sell the goods or maintain them, the stock just piled up and grew old…”

Guan Liu paused, then changed the subject to another matter.

“The Young Lord instructed me to recover the money stolen by the runaway stewards. I’ve already done so. When those people saw the Young Lord’s waist token, they regretted their actions deeply. Not only did they return the silver in full, but they also sent gifts to you through me as an apology.”

From his sleeve, Guan Liu produced an inventory detailing the amount of silver repaid and the gifts sent.

Spurred on by Qiu Huanian’s enticing promise—“Do this well and you’ll become shopkeeper of the Qi Ji Liu Chen store”—Guan Liu had worked on the task with unmatched diligence.

Qiu Huanian skimmed the inventory. Altogether, the stewards had returned one hundred and sixty taels of silver and had also offered valuable gifts as compensation.

He chuckled softly.

“Did you tell them that as long as they behaved properly, I wouldn’t lodge a complaint with the authorities?”

Strictly speaking, since these stewards had abandoned the shop in the middle of their contract and embezzled part of its funds, Qiu Huanian had every right to bring a lawsuit against them.

Guan Liu grinned.

“I figured the Young Lord’s intention was to avoid stirring up trouble. To get the silver back quickly, I had to put their minds at ease first.”

Qiu Huanian nodded, realizing that Guan Liu indeed had some wits about him.

They had only just arrived in the capital, their footing not yet firm. In a city full of powerful nobles, every step needed careful consideration. Qiu Huanian had no desire to blow this matter out of proportion and make pointless enemies right at the start. So he had sent Guan Liu to recover the debt quietly; as long as the sum was intact, there was no need to take the matter to court.

Not only had Guan Liu accurately grasped his intention, he had even secured valuable gifts from the culprits, covering the losses and leaving a surplus.

“Well done,” Qiu Huanian said. “As for those unsold goods, don’t worry about them. Pack them up and leave them in the storeroom—I’ll have use for them later.”

Those brocaded satins, feather gauzes, and fine cotton silks were of excellent quality in terms of material, craftsmanship, and patterns. It was merely that time had dulled their brightness. Wealthy folk disdained wearing them, but to ordinary peasants, they remained unattainable treasures.

Qiu Huanian planned to bring them back to Du Family Village after the palace examination and use them as rewards for the best-performing students at the clan school.

The clan school in Du Family Village had been running for nearly half a year. Liao Cang wrote monthly letters reporting its situation. According to him, several students were already showing great promise—some excelled at recitation, some were sharp at arithmetic, and some could even draw maps of Du Family Village modeled after the ones in their books.

The school’s flourishing state filled Qiu Huanian with comfort.

Yet even in his relief, he did not forget to write back and remind Liao Cang to record every problem encountered, the solutions devised, and the insights gained during teaching—striving to compile it all into a New Learning Teaching Manual.

When Liao Cang received the letter, he sighed heavily. But, spurred on by the “manuscript fee” promised in Qiu Huanian’s letter, he begrudgingly spread out a sheet of paper and began to write.

Thus, another three days passed, and the second session of the metropolitan examination finally concluded.

As always, Qiu Huanian waited for Du Yunse at their usual spot. He noticed that many of the juren emerging from the examination hall wore subtle expressions—some solemn, some apprehensive, some faintly elated. After leaving the compound, they would quickly murmur instructions to their servants, who then dashed off elsewhere.

Once Du Yunse boarded the carriage, Qiu Huanian lowered his voice to ask what was going on. Du Yunse shook his head, signaling to wait until they were home to discuss it.

The content of the second examination was similar to that of the provincial examination: “applied writing.” The questions provided specific scenarios requiring candidates to compose official documents such as edicts, judgments, memorials, or proclamations.

As a high-level examination held in the capital once every three years, the topics were never chosen casually. They often reflected current political trends.

“One of the questions this time,” Du Yunse explained, “was an imperial edict to establish the Crown Prince.”

Qiu Huanian, who had been accompanying him while eating sweet steamed custard, nearly bit his tongue in shock.

“Establish the Crown Prince? But isn’t there already a Crown Prince?”

Such an edict might only be issued once in several decades. Why would it suddenly appear as an examination question—especially now, amid the intensifying struggle for succession?

“Who drafted this examination question?”

“The chief examiner and several others of this session. Furthermore, all questions must be submitted to His Majesty for approval before being issued.”

In other words, the fact that the “establish the Crown Prince” edict appeared meant that Emperor Yuanhua had tacitly allowed it.

Could this question have been a deliberate probe? And did the emperor’s tacit approval imply he was considering designating a new heir?

Qiu Huanian’s heart raced. Only when he saw Du Yunse calmly eating mouthful after mouthful of the custard did he relax slightly.

The two bowls of custard on the table were personally made by Qiu Huanian. That morning, he had seen milk and fermented rice being sold on the street and, recalling this classic dessert, had impulsively bought the ingredients.

The method was simple: add an appropriate amount of sugar and fermented rice to milk, pour it into bowls, cover them, steam for fifteen minutes, and then sprinkle with chopped walnuts, sesame seeds, and jujube slices.

The result was a custard similar in texture to double-skin milk, lightly perfumed with the aroma of fermented rice, topped with crunchy garnishes—utterly delicious when eaten hot.

Even though there was no one else in the room, Qiu Huanian instinctively lowered his voice. He knew how dangerous the matters they were discussing could be in ancient times.

“Yunse, what do you think His Majesty truly feels about the Crown Prince? And what about the Crown Prince himself?”

If one claimed that Emperor Yuanhua did not value the Crown Prince, it was untrue; he had, both openly and secretly, arranged many things for him—Qiu Huanian and Du Yunse among them. Yet if one said the emperor had no thought of changing the heir, that was also untrue; he had deliberately undermined the Crown Prince’s allies and tacitly allowed other princes to provoke and erode his authority.

Now that the examination question on establishing the Crown Prince had spread, many previously neutral factions might throw their support behind whichever prince they favored, further intensifying the pressure on the Crown Prince.

Du Yunse meticulously finished the last spoonful of custard, leaving not even a sesame seed in the bowl.

“His Majesty has his own considerations, and the Crown Prince has his own as well.”

“…” Qiu Huanian gnashed his teeth. Wasn’t that just a flowery way of saying nothing?

Du Yunse chuckled softly and ruffled his hair. Huanian had grown taller since they first met, but Du Yunse could still easily reach the fluffy crown of his head.

“For now, nothing is decided. Less thought is better than more, stillness better than action. When the time comes, I will explain the whole situation to you.”

In the blink of an eye, the third examination session arrived. The ages of candidates this year varied greatly—some like Du Yunse were barely past twenty, while others were venerable octogenarians.

Qiu Huanian personally saw one elderly man, at least eighty, with snow-white hair, being supported to the gate by his great-grandson. Even the low-ranking officials verifying his identity treated him with extra respect, fearful that he might faint at the gate and cause trouble.

All around the capital, bets were being placed on who would emerge as the huiyuan—the top scorer of the metropolitan examination. A few days earlier, when Min Leyi came over to play, he had mentioned the matter, focusing particularly on how many illegal gambling dens his elder brother, Min Leshi, had raided.

Qiu Huanian took the chance to ask about the popular candidates for huiyuan.

Because her friend’s husband was participating in this year’s examination, Min Leyi had memorized many such tidbits.

“Most bets are on the jieyuan from various provinces, and overall, more people are betting on candidates from the south than from the north. Your man isn’t particularly popular—which just proves they’ve got no eye for talent!”

In the Yu Dynasty, southern provinces had always been culturally stronger than the north, and more southern scholars passed the metropolitan exam every year. Naturally, casual bettors preferred southern jieyuan.

Seeing that Qiu Huanian wasn’t offended, Min Leyi continued.

“But this year’s different. Among the hot favorites, there’s a candidate from the north—last year’s jieyuan of Jinzhou.”

“Jinzhou’s jieyuan?” Qiu Huanian perked up. Even Du Yunse had yet to make a name for himself in the capital—how had this candidate overcome southern bias and earned such acclaim?

“His name is Xie Tanguang, from the maternal clan of Consort Ying in the palace. He’s twenty-four and the cousin of the Third Prince, the Prince of Jin.”

To untangle these family connections, Min Leyi had all but forced her sister-in-law, Ren Suyin, to tutor her with a crash course in aristocratic genealogies, memorizing an overwhelming web of alliances.

Xie Tanguang’s résumé was impeccable: a jieyuan at twenty-four, scion of the illustrious Xie clan of Jinzhou, nephew of an imperial consort, and kinsman to a prince—an enviable life of boundless prestige.

Qiu Huanian noticed Min Leyi’s expression sour slightly whenever she mentioned the Xie clan.

“This Xie clan…”

Min Leyi pouted.

“It’s the maternal family of Lady Yu, eldest madam of the Yu clan. Northern aristocrats are all tangled up in intermarriages—I only learned this later. With an imperial consort for a sister, no wonder she looks down on me. But who cares if she does?”

Qiu Huanian laughed.

“You’re right, Leyi. We don’t need people like that to look up to us.”

As fate would have it, just days after this conversation, when the third examination concluded, Qiu Huanian truly did see Xie Tanguang at the gate of the examination compound.

Once the three sessions were over, the metropolitan examination officially ended. Nine consecutive days of high-intensity pressure had left the candidates mentally and physically exhausted. Most who exited the compound were either weeping bitterly or utterly dispirited; only a few managed to retain their composure.

Xie Tanguang was among the latter. He was easy to spot: the moment he stepped out, a crowd surged forward, calling his name and showering him with flattery.

From his carriage, Qiu Huanian observed him impassively. Indeed, Xie Tanguang looked every inch the scion of a noble house—handsome, refined, elegant. By appearances alone, he deserved his reputation.

Yet in Qiu Huanian’s heart, this man was neither as handsome nor as unparalleled in bearing as Du Yunse.

To celebrate the end of the examination, Qiu Huanian and Deng Die had prepared a lavish table in advance, along with a jar of fine wine. Their two families returned and feasted heartily, cups clinking and laughter ringing until the moon hung high in the night sky.

Wang Yinzhi and Du Yunse compared their answers from all three sessions and found that most of them aligned with the correct solutions. Their delight was evident.

“I don’t aspire to the top ranks. As long as my name appears on the list—even if it’s the very last—I’ll be content.”

“Once the palace examination is over, I won’t compete for the position of shujishi either. I’ll take my family with me and accept a post in the provinces. Even as a magistrate in some small frontier county, life will surely be far better than before. I’ll dedicate myself to educating the people, encouraging agriculture, and serving as their advocate—so my years of study won’t have been in vain.”

Drunk and emotional, Wang Yinzhi clasped Deng Die’s hand, tears brimming in his eyes.

“After all these bitter years of study, my aged mother, Die’er, and I have finally endured to see this day!”

Some scions of noble houses studied to vie for power and influence, to achieve grand ambitions. Wang Yinzhi’s sole wish, however, was to repay his family and secure a modest official post for them.

His aspirations were humble, yet he would surely become an excellent magistrate for the people.

Qiu Huanian and Du Yunse exchanged glances, then withdrew to their own quarters.

Xing Mi brought in wash water, while Bo Quan stoked the brazier until the fire glowed. After washing up, Qiu Huanian dove into Du Yunse’s embrace, fingers brushing the dark circles beneath his eyes.

No matter how learned and confident one might be, the grueling “nine-day confinement in narrow cells” inflicted real harm on the body.

Qiu Huanian muttered in distress.

“These examination cells are downright inhumane. If I ever gain a say in the matter, I’ll see to it that they’re reformed.”

Such treasonous words could only be whispered beneath the covers in the dead of night.

Du Yunse did not deem his words overly audacious, nor did he lecture that “the examinations have always been thus.” He merely took Qiu Huanian’s hand and kissed the heated palm.

Not just his hand—everything about the little husband, from his voice to his demeanor, radiated warmth, softening Du Yunse’s heart to mush.

Somehow, kisses that began in his palm wandered to brows and lashes, to soft lips, to the tempting line of his throat… On the quiet bed, the two clung together, unable to restrain themselves, the room filled only with the rustle of disheveled clothing.

Initially, Qiu Huanian had worried that Du Yunse, fresh from nine days of examinations, would be too exhausted, and had planned to postpone “important matters.” But once the first kiss was exchanged, Du Yunse—long deprived—had no intention of stopping.

In truth, Du Yunse’s stamina and the delicate young spouse were on entirely different levels. Even after nine grueling days of exams, he still left Qiu Huanian overwhelmed and repeatedly pleading for mercy.

An hour later, Du Yunse finally rose to fetch the warmed water and towels by the brazier to clean him up.

Leaning down, he kissed Qiu Huanian’s ear and murmured comfortingly.

“Didn’t you say we’re going to look at houses tomorrow? Let’s restrain ourselves tonight and stop here.”

“…”

Face buried in the pillow, Qiu Huanian groaned, sore all over.

He longed to retort, You call this restraint?—but reason warned him to keep quiet, lest tomorrow’s house-hunting plans be ruined.