The Overachieving Little Husband of the Top Scholar’s Household - Chapter 92: Jieyuan

Chapter 92: Jieyuan

Jin San steered the carriage steadily all the way home, and even the clamor of the streets failed to disturb Du Yunse’s slumber.

When they arrived at the residence, the household was already gathered at the entrance. Jin San lifted the curtain, and Qiu Huanian raised a finger to his lips, signaling silence.

Upon seeing Du Yunse still fast asleep, everyone instinctively kept quiet.

Old Lady Jin whispered, “As the Young Master instructed before leaving, the hot pot is ready. Shall we keep it warm?”

“The soup has been simmering over a low flame for hours. Its flavor has fully developed. The rest of the ingredients are covered and will be served when we begin.”

Jin San parked the carriage by the roadside. Qiu Huanian didn’t disembark but remained seated beside Du Yunse.

In slumber, Du Yunse’s face appeared strikingly innocent. It was the first time Qiu Huanian had studied him so closely in daylight.

His youthful features were finely chiseled, his expression serene. His long lashes curled slightly over his closed eyes, and beneath his prominent nose, his lips rested in a faint, relaxed line.

Qiu Huanian was suddenly struck by the reminder that Du Yunse was still in his early twenties.

At such a tender age, he was already an erudite scholar, his reputation well-established, and he was capable of engaging in the political intrigues of the crown prince’s succession with calculated precision.

Dusk fell gradually, the streets lighting up one by one with lanterns. Only then did Du Yunse stir from his deep sleep.

When he opened his eyes, he was momentarily disoriented, unsure of where he was.

A familiar voice came from above.

“Finally awake, oh mighty genius? If you’d slept any longer, I would’ve starved to death.”

Du Yunse sat up, and Qiu Huanian reached over to massage his stiff shoulders.

“Brother Hua?”

“You dozed off the moment we left the exam hall. I didn’t have the heart to wake you, so I stayed here with you.”

Du Yunse lowered his eyes and began to knead Qiu Huanian’s shoulders in return.

“You should’ve woken me. Sitting here this long must have been uncomfortable for you.”

Qiu Huanian leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“I like pampering you—what’s wrong with that?”

Du Yunse chuckled, his large, sculpted hand wandering from Qiu Huanian’s shoulder down his slender back, tracing the graceful curve of his waist and the firm outline of his hips through the fabric.

“We’re still outside,” Qiu Huanian murmured, cheeks tinged pink.

“I’m aware,” Du Yunse replied, his voice husky.

Now that the provincial exam had concluded, some long-suppressed matters demanded attention. If he continued to restrain himself, he might just ascend to sainthood. And judging by Brother Hua’s subtle cues, he too was reaching his limit…

Du Yunse had long since discerned that, while Brother Hua was easily flustered and shy, his desires were far from tepid.

Fortunately, the object of those desires was none other than Du Yunse himself.

He leaned in and gently nipped Qiu Huanian’s lower lip.

“Let’s go eat.”

Qiu Huanian’s health had always been delicate, and after sitting in the carriage so long, his limbs had grown numb. Du Yunse lifted him into his arms without hesitation and carried him into the house.

The neighbors, aware that a prime contender for this year’s Jieyuan resided here, craned their necks for a glimpse.

When they saw Du Yunse carrying Qiu Huanian inside, many quickly turned away, unwilling to stare, though the truth of the scholar’s deep affection was now undeniable.

Some dismissed it with a smile, others—harboring their own intentions—were far less pleased.

Inside, Old Lady Jin and Coral immediately began preparing dinner.

Qiu Huanian had previously instructed them to use beef bones, lamb bones, and fish to create a clear and hearty broth for hot pot.

In his view, nothing captured the joy of home like sharing a steaming hot pot.

Several pounds of beef, lamb, and tender chicken had been sliced and prepared. Qiu Huanian had even arranged for fresh seafood—shrimp, scallops, squid—delivered on ice all the way from the coast, the transportation cost far exceeding the ingredients themselves.

Now that they had some financial breathing room, they could afford such luxuries.

As for dipping sauces, a wide array was laid out in small porcelain bowls: soy sauce, aged vinegar, sugar, chili oil, oyster sauce, sesame paste, fermented red tofu, sesame oil, and leek flower sauce.

Chun Sheng, unversed in hot pot etiquette, eagerly added a spoonful of everything. After one bite, he grimaced and set the bowl aside.

Jiu Jiu gave him a light tap on the head. “You eat like Pigsy stealing ginseng fruit. Get another bowl—I’ll mix it for you.”

Qiu Huanian laughed. “Jiu Jiu, you’re really becoming the older sister now.”

Jiu Jiu smiled back. “That’s only because Chun Sheng is so hopeless.”

Chun Sheng pouted and muttered about asking Yuan Ruo to judge who was right.

Laughter filled the flower hall as the family gathered around the bubbling pot, chatting and savoring the meal until moonlight bathed the courtyard.

Meng Yuanling leaned back, patting his full belly. “I wish every day could be this happy.”

Yun Cheng reached out silently and rubbed his stomach too.

With no guests present, Meng Yuanling leaned lazily against Yun Cheng, blinking as he broached a new topic.

“Brother Hua, your birthday coincided with the provincial exam this year. You only had a bowl of longevity noodles. Now that Brother Yunse is done, why not throw a few banquet tables to make up for it?”

Qiu Huanian didn’t think it necessary. “It’s already passed, no need to revisit it.”

Just as he declined, Yun Cheng chimed in.

“Sister-in-law’s been to so many birthday banquets. Hosting one would bring in lots of gifts.”

“…”

Yun Cheng’s simple remark was cuttingly effective.

Qiu Huanian recalled all the red envelopes he’d given out in modern times—weddings, engagements, baby celebrations—and how he’d never hosted a single one himself.

One of life’s greatest grievances must be never reclaiming what one gives away.

He was sorely tempted.

In the corner, Meng Yuanling discreetly gave Yun Cheng a thumbs-up.

Just then, Du Yunse added, “If I pass this exam, we’ll need a celebration banquet anyway. Why not combine both and make it grand?”

Qiu Huanian considered it. That did make sense—doubling the reason might mean doubling the gifts.

“Then let’s wait until after the results are announced?”

Meng Yuanling raised his hand eagerly. “I’ve never thrown a birthday banquet in my life. Let me plan it!”

Jiu Jiu nodded quickly. “I’ll help.”

The two divided the tasks enthusiastically, leaving Qiu Huanian with no room to object.

“Take whatever you need from the household. Just keep an account. Don’t be too stingy, but don’t go overboard either.”

Meng Yuanling grinned mysteriously.

“Brother Hua, just relax for a few days. Then wait for your surprise.”

…

After the exam, the papers would require days of review. In the meantime, Du Yunse remained at home, resting and enjoying time with Qiu Huanian.

For the past six months, he’d only returned every five days. Now, with time at their disposal, the two were inseparable, their bond deepening daily.

It was the harvest season, and Qiu Huanian often accompanied Du Yunse to the estate.

The last of the autumn peaches had been picked. Tenant farmers were pulling out dead branches for winter firewood. They were pickling vegetables, sewing clothes, repairing roofs, and storing essentials for the cold months ahead.

This year’s cotton harvest was bountiful. Qiu Huanian generously distributed three catties of cotton to each household. Those wishing to purchase more could buy up to two catties at a subsidized price—one hundred wen per catty—to prevent reselling.

News of this spread quickly, and the estate was jubilant. With such high-quality cotton, they would spend the winter warm and content.

The thirty acres had yielded about nine thousand catties of refined cotton. After taxes and distributions, more than eight thousand catties remained—worth over a thousand taels of silver. Even after giving twenty percent to the farmers, they still stood to earn nearly a thousand taels.

Qiu Huanian and Du Yunse strolled through the now-empty fields, bathed in golden light, savoring the crispness of autumn.

“Last year around this time, we were still in the village getting ready for winter. I remember buying a whole cart of cabbage and asking Aunt Taohong to help pickle it.”

“Let’s pickle some this year too. I’ve been craving it. Braised ribs with pickled cabbage and vermicelli—nothing beats it.”

Qiu Huanian reminisced as Du Yunse listened in quiet contentment.

Several children came running toward them, their kites fluttering in the breeze.

“Hello, Qiu Xiangjun! Hello, Du Gongzi!” They had long since shed their shyness.

“Were these kites made by Wei Li?”

“Brother Bing Qi made them, but Brother Wei Li painted them.”

Qiu Huanian smiled and waved them off to continue playing.

Bing Qi and Wei Li still hadn’t made much progress. Wei Li, burdened by past wounds, found it hard to open his heart again, while Bing Qi seemed intent on a slow, careful approach.

Qiu Huanian held Du Yunse’s hand as he spoke of more recent news.

“Not long ago, the Commander of Liaozhou sent me an invitation. I didn’t mention it earlier—you were busy preparing for the exam.”

Du Yunse turned to him. “For the cotton?”

“Indeed, Liaozhou lacks local cotton production. Every autumn and winter, they expend considerable manpower and resources to procure it from the southern provinces. Yet, due to transportation losses and the corruption of local officials, they scarcely manage to secure even three thousand catties for a thousand taels of silver.”

“The Commander wishes to purchase our entire stock.”

“At a reduced rate, no doubt?”

Qiu Huanian laughed softly. “How did you guess?”

“Military men tend to be forthright. The Commander, especially, is one who never bothers with subtlety.”

In other words, the man had always been unabashed.

Qiu Huanian stretched languidly. “The current wholesale market price for cotton stands at roughly one hundred and fifty wen per catty, but the Commander is offering only one hundred and twenty.”

“Still, I understand his position. Though he’s negotiating the price down, he’s not doing so out of personal greed. His aim is to ensure the border troops are properly clothed for winter.”

“Have you reached a decision, Brother Hua?”

“I have. Those soldiers stand guard at the border, keeping us safe. It’s only fitting we contribute where we can.”

“Besides, Wu Shen and Uncle Bao Yi are both stationed at the front. If the troops are kept warm, their combat performance improves—which ultimately benefits us all.”

Du Yunse looked at Qiu Huanian with a gaze that brimmed with tenderness, admiration, and a multitude of unspoken sentiments.

“People will remember your benevolence.”

Qiu Huanian smiled gently. “I only hope they all return safely to be with their families.”

…

On the eve of the results announcement, Du Yunse and Qiu Huanian paid another visit to Old Physician Gu.

The old man, bundled in a woolen hat, was playing a string game with his granddaughter. The loser had to recite a medicinal decoction rhyme as a forfeit.

Upon seeing the two enter, he straightened himself and cleared his throat.

Ever since Qiu Huanian had introduced wool to the Yu Dynasty, the local artisans had refined their techniques to a remarkable degree. Yet, the hat atop the physician’s head, though warm, bore an aesthetic more attuned to ancient sensibilities than modern fashion.

“Last time, you mentioned the current prescription was suitable until autumn. Now that the harvest has passed, might you assess whether any adjustments are needed?”

Old Physician Gu took Qiu Huanian’s pulse, then nodded.

“Your health has notably improved since our last consultation. If you maintain this regimen, in three to five years, you’ll be free of this affliction.”

Du Yunse’s tense expression relaxed visibly.

“Then we must trouble you once more for the new prescription.”

“Certainly,” the old physician replied with ease, scribbling down the formula before instructing his family to retrieve the necessary herbs from the pharmacy.

As they turned to leave, he called out, his tone laced with implication.

“You’re both young. Some things, you may begin to consider.”

Qiu Huanian was briefly taken aback, then, realizing the physician’s meaning, turned crimson.

But the old man was already back to his string game, smiling faintly as his granddaughter fumbled a loop.

Without a word, Qiu Huanian seized Du Yunse’s hand and fled the main hall like a startled fawn.

…

The next day was the announcement of the provincial examination results.

Originally, Qiu Huanian had planned to see the list in person, but upon hearing that crowds often surged in front of the examination hall—sometimes even leading to injuries—he prudently reconsidered.

Given his own delicate build, he reluctantly stayed home. And fearing the teasing spectacle of a husband catching his scholar under the list, he kept Du Yunse at home as well.

Du Yunse himself felt no urgency; the results were predetermined—learning them a little sooner or later made no difference.

In the end, they dispatched Jin San to check the rankings and report back.

Having slept poorly the previous night, Qiu Huanian asked Old Lady Jin to heat water for a bath. Afterward, dressed in light inner garments and loosely draped robes, he reclined beneath the osmanthus tree to bask in the flower-scented breeze.

Du Yunse approached with a dry towel and carefully tended to Qiu Huanian’s damp hair.

A tranquil, domestic warmth settled over the courtyard.

Time passed. Jin San had yet to return, but in the distance, the sound of drums and gongs stirred the air.

“Could that be the messengers announcing the results?”

“Perhaps,” Du Yunse replied, still gently drying the strands of hair.

Even Jiu Jiu couldn’t suppress her excitement. “You two are far too composed.”

“I’ll go check the gate,” Meng Yuanling volunteered, rising to his feet.

He stepped out briefly, and the festive sounds swelled closer until they entered the front courtyard.

Then came his jubilant voice, ringing clear across the hanging flower gate.

“They’re here! The official messengers are really here!”

For those who passed the provincial examination, messengers would arrive personally to deliver the news.

Du Yunse kissed the ink-dark hair nestled in his hands, then turned, his sleeves billowing as he walked toward the entrance.

As he reached the gate, the messengers arrived—some carrying gongs, others drums and suonas, their music loud and spirited.

When the performance ceased, the lead messenger stepped forward and bowed deeply.

“Congratulations, Juren Du! In the twenty-second year of Yuanhua, you have placed first in the Liaozhou Provincial Examination, emerging as the Jieyuan, the top scholar of the province!”

“Tomorrow, the Deer Cry Banquet shall be held at Mingfeng Terrace. Juren, your presence is essential so that all may behold the grace of the Jieyuan!”

The courtyard erupted into celebration.

Though they had all been quietly confident in Du Yunse’s success, hearing it confirmed in such grand fashion was an entirely different feeling.

Qiu Huanian rose from the recliner, his smile radiant as he turned to Old Lady Jin.

“Bring out the prepared red envelopes and invite our esteemed guests in for tea.”