The Overachieving Little Husband of the Top Scholar’s Household - Chapter 89: Grudges

Chapter 89: Grudges

Min Leyi lowered his head in contemplation, his bangs veiling his almond-shaped eyes.

“I should at least listen to what he has to say and clear the air. It’s not as if I’m being unreasonable.”

“All right, I’ll go to the courtyard and take a look.”

Qiu Huanian rose and made his way to the main gate. Yu Min, who had remained sleepless throughout the night, was startled by the sight of him and quickly averted his gaze.

“Qiu Xiangjun, I wish to see Leyi.”

Qiu Huanian could not discern what he truly meant to say.

“Come with me.”

He led Yu Min to the guest room, where Min Leyi was seated.

“You two talk. I’ll be in the courtyard.”

Once Qiu Huanian had left, Yu Min produced a jar of ointment from within his robe and placed it gently beside Min Leyi’s hand.

Min Leyi immediately withdrew his hand.

Yu Min steadied his breath and asked, “Leyi, I came to bring you medicine. May I see your hand?”

Min Leyi concealed it within his sleeve. “It’s already been treated and bandaged.”

Yu Min fell silent.

“Leyi, I thought about it all night. I want to ask—will you wait for me?”

“Wait for you?” Min Leyi’s voice was faint and hoarse.

“If not this time, then the next. Once I pass the imperial examinations and gain an official post, I’ll take you with me to wherever I’m assigned. We’ll be free from the constraints of family obligations.”

Having spoken, Yu Min’s heart pounded like a war drum, as he anxiously awaited Min Leyi’s response.

After a long silence, Min Leyi let out a soft, bitter laugh.

“What if it’s not this time—or the next? Each attempt is three years apart. How many years would it take? Who can promise success?”

“And even if you do become an official, can you truly cut ties with the Yu family forever and never return? What would be different, then?”

“If I wait for you… who will wait for me for the rest of my life?”

Yu Min had no reply.

Deep down, he had already known it was a lost cause. He simply couldn’t bring himself to give up. The affection born of youthful admiration was disintegrating, and it only made his desperation worse.

Min Leyi kept his head down and dismissed him.

“If you have nothing more to say, you should leave. Take the medicine with you. I already have everything I need.”

“Leyi—”

“Don’t call me that again,” Min Leyi said with a sharp sniff. “Only family and close friends may use that name.”

“What I said last night still stands. I won’t change my mind.”

Yu Min recalled Min Leyi’s words from the previous night.

“I won’t go through with the marriage.”

He felt as though lightning had struck his heart. Stunned, he picked up the ointment and left the room in a daze, moving as if in a dream.

He wandered through the courtyard, oblivious to Qiu Huanian’s voice or the presence of Jin San and the others, guided only by instinct.

By the time Yu Min returned to Qingfeng Academy, sweat dripped from his brow beneath the sweltering summer sun. Only upon seeing the firmly shut front gate did he realize where he was.

He had left the mountain at dawn without reporting to anyone, and now it was class time—the gate was locked.

Yu Min was about to call out for it to be opened when footsteps approached from behind.

Unexpectedly, the headmaster of Qingfeng Academy, Min Taikang, was outside rather than within the academy grounds.

Yu Min couldn’t bring himself to meet his mentor’s eyes.

Min Taikang’s voice was flat. “Come with me.”

Yu Min followed him in silence. They arrived at the neighboring Min residence.

The gate stood open. A few servants were still tidying up, as if someone had only just departed.

Min Taikang spoke. “I’ve dismissed the nurse. Write a letter to the matriarch of the Yu clan and explain everything.”

Yu Min’s chest tightened. He trailed behind Min Taikang into the study.

It was here that he had first laid eyes on Min Leyi, though the latter had not noticed him then.

The following day, while flying a kite, Yu Min had whimsically guided it near the Min residence courtyard, and as luck would have it, the string snapped, leaving the kite stranded within the walls.

He had heard Min Leyi’s voice through the wall—startled at first, then scolding with clarity, demanding to know who had caused the trouble.

Later, during the Flower Festival, he had seized the opportunity to retrieve it.

…

When Yu Min regained his senses, paper and brush had already been laid out before him.

“Write,” said Min Taikang.

“Write what?”

Min Taikang rapped the desk lightly. “I’ll dictate. You write.”

Yu Min dipped the brush in ink, his hand poised over the pristine paper.

“Your noble family has a long lineage of officialdom, renowned for its wealth and refinement, a household immersed in poetry, etiquette, and virtue. Min Taikang, a scholar who has passed both civil examinations, has been praised repeatedly for his administrative contributions. His teachings have borne fruit far and wide, and his reputation among scholars is modest yet esteemed.”

“Min Taikang has a son—innocent, lively, and pure-hearted. Upon noticing that my disciple, Yu Min, held affection for my son, and considering his intelligence and our bond as master and pupil, I deemed it an appropriate union and sought to form a marital alliance.”

“Unexpectedly, your esteemed family’s words and actions have proven inconsistent—honeyed on the lips, yet hiding a blade beneath.”

Yu Min’s hand trembled, and a blot of ink bloomed upon the paper.

Min Taikang frowned. “If you can’t even transcribe dictation, how do you expect to pass the provincial exam?”

Yu Min murmured an apology and started afresh with renewed focus.

Min Taikang continued. “You claimed to send a palace matron to teach my child, when in fact, her purpose was to suppress and humiliate, even to the point of harming him physically.”

“I may hail from humble roots and lack your family’s influence, but how could I, as a father, allow such disgrace to befall my child?”

“From this day forward, I withdraw my proposal of marriage. I trust your family will uphold its name and refrain from further misdeeds.”

“Qingfeng Academy, Min Taikang.”

His words were sharp and cutting—just as expected of a scholar who had earned his title through the imperial examination. With a few strokes, he had thoroughly indicted the Yu family.

Should Min Taikang choose to press the matter further, the Yu family would unquestionably be at fault. With his reputation, students, and connections, he had no need to fear reprisal.

After Yu Min wrote the final word, Min Taikang added, “Write your own account and seal it with this letter. Deliver it immediately.”

Under his stern gaze, Yu Min dared not delay. He hastily penned a concise statement and left it to dry.

Then, with his hands folded before him and his head bowed in remorse, he whispered, “Teacher, I wronged Leyi.”

Min Taikang replied calmly, “No—you’re not bound to him. How could you wrong him? It was my failure as a father that he suffered under my roof.”

Yu Min lowered his head further in shame.

Min Taikang sighed. “I often blamed my aging mother for spoiling him, yet since we arrived in Liaozhou, I allowed him too much freedom. When he caused trouble, I was reluctant to discipline him harshly. Wasn’t that indulgence my own doing?”

“I feared his nature would lead him into harm’s way, and yet I still couldn’t bear to restrict him. Given the nature of our teacher-student bond—where the teacher is as a father and betrayal is an unpardonable sin—I believed you would never treat him unkindly.”

“But it was precisely this way of thinking that led to his greatest punishment.”

Yu Min asked, quietly, “Teacher, how did you know—?”

“Yesterday, when Leyi returned, he was restless, concealing his hand and refusing to let anyone see. He spent a long time in the mountain pavilion. How could I not be concerned?”

Yu Min could say no more, overcome by shame.

Min Taikang dismissed him with a wave. “Return to your studies. The provincial examination is approaching—don’t waste your future.”

“…Yes, Teacher.”

Min Taikang watched him leave, slowly shaking his head.

Though Yu Min was not entirely to blame, a scar remained between them. It would be difficult to mentor him with the same openness as before.

…

After seeing Yu Min that morning, Min Leyi busied himself with various tasks.

He played with Naishuang for a while, watched Qiu Huanian distill floral dew into cooling oil, and then went to sit on the swing. But with his hands bandaged, he could only push off the ground lightly with his toes, swaying back and forth.

Qiu Huanian, watching him, knew his heart was still troubled.

After bottling a fresh batch of cooling oil, he called out, “The sun is getting fierce. Come inside and think about what you’d like for lunch.”

“I want shaved ice!” Min Leyi’s eyes sparkled. He hadn’t had any since the nanny arrived.

“Cold drinks won’t do. Pick something proper.”

“It’s too hot—I don’t want anything greasy. Just stew some yam and pork rib soup, with cold noodles and fresh vegetables.”

“You really are easy to please.”

Min Leyi beamed. “That’s what my grandmother always said too.”

“Oh?”

“No hidden meaning! I promise!”

They shared a brief laugh, and Min Leyi finally relaxed, going inside to sit beside the ice basin.

“I ran away and feel better now, but I’ve given Father another reason to worry. I just swore I’d be better this time.”

Qiu Huanian gently tousled his hair. “It’s good you’re so filial. But keeping things from him only makes it worse when he finds out.”

“If it were my nephew or Chun Sheng, I’d be so mad I couldn’t sleep.”

Min Leyi nodded, understanding.

Qiu Huanian had meant to gently urge him to speak with Min Taikang, but before old lady Jin could even finish preparing lunch, Min Taikang himself arrived.

Min Leyi, surprised to see his busy father in person, leapt to his feet.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries with Qiu Huanian, Min Taikang gestured for Leyi to sit and reached for his hand.

Min Leyi hesitated, then slowly extended it.

The bandages came off, revealing red, scabbed skin beneath.

Min Taikang’s beard quivered. He was momentarily speechless.

“…Father,” Min Leyi looked up with watery eyes.

Min Taikang sighed and cupped his son’s face.

“This is my fault. I let you suffer, Leyi.”

“I’ve dismissed that nurse. The Yu family is no longer of concern. You don’t need to be afraid.”

Min Leyi’s nose tingled. He threw himself into his father’s embrace, clinging tightly like a child.

“It was their fault, not yours, Father!”

Min Taikang chuckled, “You’re grown now, still acting like you’re five. Aren’t you afraid Qiu Huanian will laugh?”

Min Leyi glanced sheepishly at Qiu Huanian, who was grinning.

“You two chat—I’ll check on the kitchen and have old lady Jin add a few more dishes.”

Once Qiu Huanian had left, Min Leyi still refused to let go. Min Taikang patted his back gently.

“This all came from my own greed. I thought you deserved someone perfect—an ideal match with status, talent, and appearance—so you wouldn’t suffer disappointment.”

“But what did that get us? Sigh!”

“After your mother passed, I never remarried. I didn’t know how to handle these arrangements. I made a mess of it…”

He changed the bandages carefully.

“Your mother and I were both serious people. Your older brother’s the same. But you—you’ve always been so spirited.”

Min Leyi tried to protest, but his father tapped his nose lightly.

“I’ve learned my lesson. You should choose for yourself. Family background and scholarly success don’t matter as much as someone with a good heart—someone who truly loves you. Even if their family is less distinguished, we’ll send a generous dowry and servants. You won’t be slighted.”

Though this was the first time his traditional father had spoken so frankly, it made Min Leyi blush.

“What kind of person are you looking for, Leyi?”

“…Not someone too bookish.”

Min Taikang laughed. “Still a child.”

“Never mind—you’re still young. Be picky. Maybe the right one is waiting. Your brother is transferring to the capital soon. I’ll send you with him. Xiangping’s a mess right now; there’s no need for you to be caught in it.”

Min Leyi’s eyes lit up. “Big brother’s going to the capital?”

He hadn’t known.

Min Leshi, Min Taikang’s eldest son, was seven years older and had passed the exams three years ago, serving as a magistrate in the southwest.

“It’s only a seventh-rank judge post at Dali Temple, but getting to the capital is rare.”

“He got married earlier this year. I couldn’t attend, so an old friend stood in. You’ll meet your sister-in-law soon.”

Min Leyi was delighted. “We’ve been writing to each other a lot! If brother likes her, I’ll like her too!”

…

A few days later, both Yu Min and Min Taikang’s letters reached the Yu family’s estate, accompanied by the dismissed nanny.

The matriarch read them and frowned slightly, then smiled faintly and set them aside.

She glanced at the nanny sipping tea nearby.

“Nanny Guan, you’ve had a long trip. Stay a while. I just received six jars of Qiu’s Six Staples oyster sauce—you must try some.”

Nanny Guan rose slightly to express thanks.

“I regret failing in my assignment.”

The matron shook her head. “I misjudged the Min family. I had hoped Min Taikang would discipline his son—but he coddles him.”

Nanny Guan added, “That young master, so well-behaved on the surface, but unchanged at heart—undoubtedly spoiled.”

“After days of instruction, not only did he not improve, but he grew worse. I had no choice but to administer a firmer punishment. Who knew he’d be so delicate?”

She recalled Min Taikang’s dismissal, still bitter.

Though she had served in the palace under Consort Ying and helped raise the now-enfeoffed Prince of Jin, she had never been so curtly dismissed.

The matron said, “It’s just as well. Better to discover incompatibility now than after marriage.”

“Min’er is gifted, but still a child. We should seek a refined lady from a noble lineage—one who can guide him with decorum.”

Nanny Guan nodded. “That Min child may charm with his cleverness, but he’s hardly a proper match for young master Yu Min.”

The matron agreed, casting another glance at the letters.

“Our only misstep here is having offended Min Taikang. Let’s prepare some gifts to smooth things over.”

Then she changed the subject.

“Next month marks the birthday of His Highness, Prince Jin. I have prepared several lists of potential gifts, but I’m unsure of their suitability. Could you take a look for me, Nanny Guan?”

Nanny Guan’s smile deepened.

“You and Consort Ying hail from the same maternal lineage, making you Prince Jin’s cousin-aunt by blood. How could any offering from you be considered inappropriate?”

…

A few days after Min Taikang sent his letter of refusal, the Yu clan dispatched a representative to Qingfeng Academy.

The envoy was a prominent figure from a collateral branch of the Yu family, bearing generous gifts and a personal apology to Min Taikang.

Yet Min Taikang remained unmoved. He instructed that all gifts be returned without exception.

His refusal was unequivocal.

Left with no recourse, the Yu envoy entered Qingfeng Academy to retrieve Yu Min, intending to bring him back to the clan’s ancestral school for continued education.

Min Taikang remarked coldly, “Your family fears I bear a grudge and might deliberately fail to teach you well.”

Yu Min bowed with deference, his voice tinged with anxiety. “The wisdom you’ve imparted over the years is deeply etched into my heart. I could never entertain such disrespect.”

Min Taikang offered no further reply.

“The provincial examination is just over two months away. Return and focus on your studies. What becomes of you henceforth is no longer my concern.”

Though grieved, Yu Min knew he had erred. After bidding his teacher a solemn farewell, he departed with his family.

Thus, Qingfeng Academy’s Class A lost a gallant young scholar, and the ancestral lands of the Yu clan gained a silent one.

Once Min Leyi’s hand had healed, he resumed his carefree days.

With Min Taikang’s tacit approval, he no longer needed to sneak out and spent his days wandering freely.

“Though many of the noblewomen in Xiangping Prefecture are rather insufferable, the city itself offers no shortage of amusements. I’m not entirely eager to leave,” Min Leyi said to Qiu Huanian as he enjoyed a chilled treat.

“When do you plan to depart?”

“Likely after the provincial exams. My brother and sister-in-law will settle in the capital first. Once everything is in order, I’ll follow.”

In ancient times, long-distance travel was arduous. The journey from Xiangping to the capital took about ten days, requiring careful planning for provisions and necessities. Even after arrival, many essentials had to be arranged. Min Leyi had already begun packing.

“There are even more powerful figures in the capital, and your father won’t be there. You must exercise caution,” Qiu Huanian warned.

Min Leyi nodded earnestly. “After that close call when I nearly caused a scandal while out, I’ve learned to think twice before acting.”

“Oh? What other disasters have you narrowly avoided?” Qiu Huanian laughed, ever intrigued by Min Leyi’s escapades.

“It was a near-miss. I may have mentioned it before, but never elaborated.”

Qiu Huanian leaned forward, intrigued.

“One time, during the Yu matron’s visit, I slipped out to explore. At the market, I saw someone being mistreated and intervened, thinking they were a victim—only to discover they were actually innocent. I nearly harmed the wrong person.”

Min Leyi exhaled in relief. “Fortunately, they were skilled and unscathed. Otherwise, I wouldn’t know how to atone. That incident taught me a lasting lesson.”

Qiu Huanian found the tale oddly familiar, though he couldn’t quite recall where he’d heard it.

Min Leyi corresponded frequently with his brother, and through those letters, Qiu Huanian learned about life in the capital.

If Du Yunse secured a position after next year’s palace examination, the entire Du family would likely relocate as well. Qiu Huanian had already begun making plans.

Housing in the capital was nearly twice as expensive as in Xiangping. A modest two-courtyard house near the imperial quarter, purchased by Min Leyi, had cost a staggering three hundred taels of silver.

Qiu Huanian, accustomed to the spacious comforts of a prefectural mansion, balked at the idea of a cramped home. A more suitable property could cost upwards of several hundred, even a thousand, taels.

Life and social expectations in the capital came with a hefty price tag. Though Qiu’s Six Staples brought in two to three hundred taels a month, Qiu Huanian could not afford to be complacent.

Floral dew, their most lucrative product, was seasonal. With roses growing scarce, production faltered in autumn and winter. However, Qiu Huanian swiftly pivoted, crafting new seasonal offerings—osmanthus and jasmine dew—to fill the void.

He reviewed the household accounts and began sketching a rough financial plan.

…

Sweet Water Lane, the Shu residence.

As dusk descended, Zhu Xia sat alone in her chamber, embroidering as she drifted into thought. Distracted, she pricked her finger and startled herself back to the present.

Ru Tang entered, concern etched on her face. “Your hand’s not fully healed. Why rush to sew? Everyone says you should rest.”

Zhu Xia lowered her gaze and said nothing.

She had been staying with the Shu family for several days now. Though her own family had come multiple times to retrieve her, Shu Huacai and the others had refused.

Raised amidst familial strife, Zhu Xia possessed a maturity beyond her years. She knew that returning would only bring her misery. For now, the Shu residence was a refuge, but it could not be a permanent haven.

“My mind is unsettled. Working keeps me composed.”

She didn’t mention her deeper intent—to see if her needlework could support her. Her skills were formidable, and one embroidery piece could fetch dozens of coins. A few each month would allow her to slowly save silver.

Contemplating the uncertainty of her future filled her with a quiet sorrow.

The day she was cast out, her mother, rarely seen outside the ancestral hall, emerged just to scold her. She claimed Zhu Xia had been careless, abducted into a brothel, and had brought disgrace to the family. The Shu family’s invitation offered a convenient excuse to exile her.

Since then, not a single inquiry had come from the Zhu household.

Ru Tang saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes and sighed silently, refraining from touching the wound with words.

In these few days, Zhu Xia’s disposition had softened—or perhaps, it had merely returned to what it once was. The bitterness between them had faded, replaced by a bond forged through shared hardship.

That night, Zhu Xia lay awake in the adjacent room, tossing and turning, unable to find sleep.

Suddenly, a commotion roused her. She sprang up, quickly dressed, and stepped out into the corridor. Others stirred as well.

“What’s happening? I heard someone shouting about a fire!”

Shu Huacai threw open the doors, his expression darkening with shock.

“The Zhu family is ablaze.”