The Overachieving Little Husband of the Top Scholar’s Household - Chapter 7: The Memorial

The graves in the Du family village were all located on a small hill to the south of the village, about a twenty-minute walk away.

Since it was not a designated day for visiting graves, the early morning path was empty. In silence, Qiu Huanian arrived at the graves of Widow Li and Du Baoyan.

First, he burned incense and kowtowed before their graves, thanking Widow Li for raising the original owner. He promised to take good care of the two young children at home and to help the eldest son of the Du family.

Then, Qiu Huanian took out an old embroidered pouch. The original owner had made it himself, but since he lacked skill in needlework, this was the only one he had ever completed.

With a sigh, Qiu Huanian removed the silver bracelet from his left wrist.

When the original owner had been sent to the Du family, Du Baoyan had already passed away, but the Du family had not yet fallen into hardship. Widow Li had been fond of the original owner and had a delicate silver bracelet made for him, which he had never taken off since.

He placed the silver bracelet inside the pouch, cut off a lock of his hair and tucked it in as well, then tied the pouch securely. Digging a small hole at the foot of Widow Li’s grave, he buried it deep in the soil.

“You considered Widow Li your mother. Now, I have buried you beside her. From now on, this will be your resting place in this world. Everyone who comes to honor Widow Li will also honor you.”

Qiu Huanian did not mention any names, speaking as if chatting with a friend.

He offered the chicken soup and sorghum candy, lit three incense sticks, read the memorial text, and burned it along with the paper money. After standing quietly for a while, he gathered his things and left.

Back home, he had Jiujiu and Chunsheng share the memorial offerings and rested for a while.

By then, the sun had risen. An elderly neighbor was heading out to pick wild vegetables, and Jiujiu and Chunsheng eagerly volunteered to go along, just as they had the previous day, to help Qiu Huanian gather willow leaves.

After giving them a few reminders, Qiu Huanian unmolded and cut the newly made sorghum candy, took some with him, and set out again.

This time, he was going to the village chief’s house.

When he arrived outside the elder’s courtyard, Qiu Huanian knocked on the door, but there was no response. He sat down on a stone beneath a locust tree nearby, deciding to wait for a while.

Though he felt quite awake, the moment he sat down, an overwhelming drowsiness washed over him, and he leaned against the thick trunk of the locust tree and drifted into sleep.

In a hazy dream, he seemed to return to the modern world, observing himself from an outsider’s perspective.

He saw his parents anxiously questioning the doctor in a hospital room. He saw a stranger—who was also himself—sitting on the hospital bed, looking lost.

Slowly, that version of himself was moved by their affection and hesitantly reached out to embrace the middle-aged couple before him.

Qiu Huanian smiled, tears slipping down his cheeks, gazing deeply at the couple.

“Hua-ge’er? Hua-ge’er? Why are you napping on a rock?”

It felt like an entire lifetime had passed before Qiu Huanian was gently shaken awake. Opening his eyes, he saw Meng Fuyue, the aunt of Meng Yuanling, the village chief’s eldest daughter-in-law.

Meng Fuyue and Qiu Huanian were not close, but she knew that her cousin’s younger brother-in-law got along well with Qiu Huanian. She also knew that her father-in-law held this family in high regard, so she treated him with kindness.

“I came to speak with the village chief,” Qiu Huanian explained. “I knocked earlier, but no one answered, so I decided to wait outside.”

“My father-in-law went to the fields to check the soil this year. He should be back soon,” Meng Fuyue replied, gesturing for him to come inside. “Why don’t you come in and sit for a while? Today is Yun Cheng’s first day at the county academy, so most of the family went into town to make a day of it. I stayed behind to watch the house. I was just in the garden collecting firewood earlier, so I didn’t hear you knock.”

“Is Yun Cheng preparing for the child scholar exam?” Qiu Huanian asked.

A scholar who passed the county and prefectural exams was called a tongsheng (child scholar). Those who passed the provincial academy exam would become xiucai, the lowest rank of official scholars.

A xiucai—also known as a shengyuan—could meet county officials without bowing and, if highly ranked, even receive a monthly grain stipend.

If someone placed first in the county, prefectural, and academy exams, they earned the prestigious title of “Little Three Yuan.”(Xiao Sanyuan) 

Only tongsheng and xiucai could study at the county academy for free. Others needed a scholar’s recommendation and had to pay a hefty tuition fee. Because of this, students usually only enrolled in the academy a few months before their tongsheng exams, using the time for final preparations.

“Mister Sun, the scholar, believes Yun Cheng’s studies are sufficient to take the exam. He will first try for the tongsheng rank, then study at the county academy for a few years before advancing further.”

Mister Sun was the old scholar who ran a private school in Qingfu Town. Yun Cheng had been studying there for years, and it was said that Qiu Huanian’s nominal husband had also received his early education from him.

“Yun Cheng is mature beyond his years—a promising scholar,” Qiu Huanian praised.

“My father-in-law says the same,” Meng Fuyue replied, her smile brightening with pride.

Yuncheng was the eldest son and eldest grandson of the village chief, who had placed great expectations on him, hoping that their family could produce a truly accomplished scholar.

Meng Fuyue thought of something and complimented with a smile, “But compared to your man, who passed the Tongsheng exam at the age of ten, he’s still far behind.”

Qiu Huanian’s smile stiffened.

This form of address was unavoidable.

Meng Fuyue poured a cup of water for Qiu Huanian, and after the two chatted for a while, the village chief returned, leaning on his cane.

“Hua-ge’er? Have you encountered some difficulty?” The village chief hadn’t expected to see Qiu Huanian at his home.

“I’d like to ask for your help with something—it’s a good thing.” Qiu Huanian said as he opened the basket. “This is sorghum candy I made myself. Village chief, please try some.”

“This candy tastes even better than malt sugar. Hua-ge’er said he’s selling one strip for just a single wen,” Meng Fuyue, who had already tasted it, added from the side.

Sorghum candy? One wen?

The village chief didn’t have great teeth and wasn’t fond of sweets. He took the candy in his hand, examined it, and noticed that it was neither hard nor sticky, so he put a piece in his mouth to taste.

It had the rich aroma of grains and the sweetness of sugar beets, with no bitterness at all—only a soft, mellow sweetness.

The village chief’s eyes brightened. He had tasted the treats from the county’s restaurants and pastry shops, and had even dined at the county magistrate’s residence. The candy Hua-ge’er had made was in no way inferior to what was sold in the county.

“Is it really just one wen?”

Qiu Huanian chuckled, “Really. It’s made from sorghum, corn, and sugar beets—none of which are expensive. And if I sell it at a high price, I won’t be able to sell much in the countryside.”

He had observed and inquired—those selling malt sugar in town could only sell at most thirty to forty sticks a day. If the price was too high, the sales would drop.

Hearing Qiu Huanian mention the ingredients, the village chief did not ask about the specific recipe. Stroking his beard, he pondered for a moment. “You want me to help you collect sugar beets?”

Qiu Huanian smiled. It was always easier to talk to someone intelligent.

Among the ingredients for sorghum candy, he still had plenty of sorghum and corn at home, and even if he ran out, they were easy to buy. But sugar beets were only grown by a few households for personal consumption, making it difficult to purchase them in large quantities all at once.

With the village chief making an announcement, he wouldn’t have to go door to door asking.

“Please help spread the word in the village. I’ll buy sugar beets at one wen per two jin(1jin=0.5kg). As long as they’re not spoiled, I’ll take as many as there are. Anyone interested can come to my house tomorrow morning.”

Qiu Huanian added with a smile, “I’ll prioritize our village first. Once I’ve bought all the sugar beets here, if it’s still not enough, then I’ll look elsewhere.”

The village chief’s gaze toward Qiu Huanian suddenly changed, his smile deepening.

If he hadn’t said it this way, some villagers might have hoarded their sugar beets, hoping to drive up the price. But by framing it like this, it would make people think that if they didn’t sell early, they might lose the chance altogether.

Originally, sugar beets were something of little value, but now, they could be exchanged for money—miss this opportunity, and there wouldn’t be another.

The village chief realized that this ge’er, whom he had previously not paid much attention to, was likely more astute than he had thought.

“Fuyue, go tell the villagers exactly what Hua-ge’er said and have them spread the word among each other. Those interested should go to his house tomorrow morning.”

Meng Fuyue responded and left. Qiu Huanian was about to take his leave as well when the village chief called him back.

“Hua-ge’er, Yunse will be back in about ten days. If he wants to return to the county school to study, he can come to me if he faces any difficulties.”

Du Yunse was the full name of Qiu Huanian’s nominal husband.

Seeing Qiu Huanian’s surprised expression, the village chief sighed.

“Yesterday, I made a special trip to visit the county magistrate. He told me that Yunse’s mentor has already been released from prison, though he is still under house arrest in the capital. The people involved have either been demoted or punished, and the case has been settled. Since Yunse is returning safely, he can still take the imperial exams as usual, and there won’t be any impact on his future prospects.”

The villagers only followed the rumors—one moment calling him a prodigy, the next saying his future was ruined. In reality, they had no understanding of Du Yunse’s experiences over the years.

Only the village chief remembered clearly—Du Yunse had started his education at the age of seven and passed the Tongsheng exam at ten. He had been the top scorer in both the county and prefectural exams, and a beautifully written essay of his had caught the attention of the Liaozhou education commissioner, who had made a special trip to Du Village to personally test this young prodigy.

After a round of examinations, the renowned scholar Wen Huiyang, who had accompanied the commissioner, was so impressed that he took Du Yunse as his disciple on the spot and led him away from Zhang County to travel and study.

If it weren’t for Wen Huiyang’s belief that “a youth too brilliant is bound to invite misfortune” and his insistence that Du Yunse refrain from taking the imperial exams too early, he wouldn’t have just passed the Tongsheng exam—he might have already become a Juren!

He was the pride of the Du clan, a true star of literary fortune!

After briefly recounting these past events to Qiu Huanian, the village chief said, “I know your family is struggling right now, but of all occupations, studying is the most noble. With Yunse’s talent, he must not be delayed.”

He was worried that Qiu Huanian wouldn’t support Du Yunse in continuing his studies, given the immense cost of education.

Qiu Huanian smiled. “Studying is good, but first, we need to be well-fed and properly clothed, don’t we?”

Without waiting for the village chief to speak, he continued, “But it doesn’t matter. I can take care of food and clothing on my own. The imperial examination is the best investment—so long as he can take the exams, I will support him.”

He was raising two children on his own and could only do his best to provide them with the best material conditions. But in ancient times, material wealth alone was far from sufficient. With Du Yunse taking up his rightful position as their elder brother, the two children would have a better future. Qiu Huanian himself could also benefit from the connection, gaining more security in life.

The village chief thought about the sorghum candy Qiu Huanian made and his adeptness in handling social interactions. He did not doubt that Qiu Huanian meant what he said.

“Yunse is a good child who knows propriety and integrity. If you two work together, your days will only get better and better.”

…

Around noon, as usual, Qiu Huanian dropped off Jiujiu and Chunsheng at Hu Qiuyan’s house and then set off on foot toward the town with a basket of sorghum candy to sell.

The candies he had sold yesterday had already started gaining a good reputation. By the afternoon, many people had come specifically to try them, and he ended up selling a total of 183 sticks of sorghum candy.

However, this was because people were initially drawn by curiosity. After a few days, sales would inevitably decline.

The increased foot traffic had also slightly improved the business at the tofu shop. Meng Yuanling’s sister-in-law told Qiu Huanian that from now on, he could sell his candies inside the tofu shop instead of standing outside in the sun and wind.

On his way back in the afternoon, Meng Yuanling’s second brother happened to be driving a mule cart to deliver tofu to other villages, so he gave Qiu Huanian a ride.

After walking on foot for several days, Qiu Huanian found himself missing modern transportation. Looking enviously at the tall and strong mule in front of him, he asked, “How much does a mule cost on the market?”

“An old mule costs five taels of silver. A strong young mule like this one costs seven taels,” Meng Yuanling’s second brother, Meng Wudong, said with a hint of pride in his voice.

The Meng family owned two mules—an old one for grinding soybeans at the tofu shop and a young, strong one for pulling carts. In Qingfu Town, only a handful of households could afford such livestock.

Most families couldn’t even afford a single old mule.

“What about a horse?” Qiu Huanian, having traveled from the modern era, had yet to see a horse in person. As someone who had watched countless historical dramas, he had a natural fascination and longing for horses.

“Even the slowest nag costs at least twenty-five taels of silver. As for truly good horses, their prices have no upper limit,” Meng Wudong shook his head. These things were far beyond the reach of people like them.

In terms of purchasing power in modern times, a mule was like an electric scooter—affordable at around two to three thousand yuan—while a horse was like a car, with even the cheapest and oldest models costing over ten thousand yuan, and luxury models being entirely out of reach.

Qiu Huanian nodded. He really wanted to buy a good horse to fulfill his time-travel fantasy.

But before that, he needed to focus on what was in front of him—working hard to save up for a mule as a means of transportation.

After doing the calculations, he suddenly felt that the hundred or so wen he had earned today seemed pitifully small. Even if he worked hard for two months, he might not have enough to buy a good mule!