Chapter 82

 Increased Dividends and New Year Fireworks

Elder Yi was intercepted and invited into a private room next door. Lu Changsheng rose to greet him, displaying the utmost deference and humility befitting the treatment of a senior scholar.

Startled, Elder Yi hurriedly waved his hands. "Dean Lu, there is no need for this!"

"It is only proper..." Lu Changsheng insisted, bowing deeply nonetheless.

Elder Yi felt conflicted; although he harbored deep resentment toward Lu Qinghong, Lu Changsheng enjoyed a sterling reputation. As fellow men of letters, he also felt a natural affinity for the Lu family of Jiangyi.

Once they were seated, Lu Changsheng sighed. "I am to blame for my poor discipline, allowing my grandson to commit such an act..."

"Grandfather!" Lu Qinghong looked on in disbelief, his face flushing a deep crimson as he hurriedly glanced at the others in the room.

These were loyal servants of the Lu family; though they did not fully grasp the situation, they exchanged glances and tactfully withdrew.

"Qinghong, serve tea to Elder Yi and offer your apologies!" Lu Changsheng commanded sternly.

Lu Qinghong wished the ground would swallow him whole, yet his long-standing habit of obedience to Lu Changsheng compelled him to dutifully carry out the instructions.

Elder Yi scoffed inwardly but remained silent on whether he forgave the young man; after all, it was not his place to grant such forgiveness.

At that moment, Lu Changsheng revealed his true purpose: "I wish to take Qinghong to personally apologize to that person. Might Elder Yi be willing to make the introduction?"

Lu Qinghong’s heart skipped a beat. In the private room next door, spurred on by the boisterous enthusiasm of Cheng Ping and his companions, the crowd was in high spirits; Master Pang even generously slapped down a fifty-tael silver note as a tip.

At that moment, no one cared about eating anymore; waves of cheers from inside the Hanmo Pavilion teahouse spilled out onto the street, leaving those queuing for future seats itching with impatience.

"This Master Qingyuan is truly remarkable. He never even appears in person, yet he commands everyone to abide by the rules here. If I had enough money, I certainly wouldn't be standing in line!"

"It’s not just the wealthy; the powerful are no different!"

"There’s probably some inside story we common folk just don't know about." Sighing, they nonetheless resigned themselves to the miserable task of waiting in line outside.

After half an hour, the young man on stage finally stepped down. The tips were so numerous they were countless; the waiter, carrying his tray, was drenched in sweat from the sheer volume of money he had to collect.

And that was on top of the fortune they had already made during the storytelling session itself.

The proprietor of Hanmo Pavilion was a man with a keen business sense. He felt no curiosity about Master Qingyuan—nor did he wish to—knowing that such curiosity would only invite endless pestering from others; his sole focus was making money.

Having finished counting the earnings, even a man as stingy as he was prepared to increase Old Master Yi’s share of the profits. It was said that Lord Qingyuan, the figure behind the scenes, was only entitled to twenty percent of Elder Yi’s share. Yet, looking at the substantial sum he was holding, Lu Lizhi worried: if Lord Qingyuan found out, and someone else tempted him with even greater profits...

"No, this won't do. Where is the accountant? Quickly, calculate the best way to distribute the dividends. We must keep Lord Qingyuan firmly on our side!"

After some painful deliberation, Hanmo Pavilion allocated another twenty percent of the total earnings for dividends: half of that went to Elder Yi—to be split among himself, his apprentice, and Manager Ning—while the other half (ten percent of the total) went directly to Lord Qingyuan.

In other words, Lu Lizhi had originally received twenty percent of *Elder Yi’s* share—a tiny fraction of the overall total—but now he was receiving ten percent of the *entire* Hanmo Pavilion’s dividend pool; his earnings had effectively doubled!

For instance, the dividends from tips alone amounted to fifty taels that day. Over a month—accounting for various variables—that could reach a thousand taels, not even counting the profits from the main restaurant and teahouse businesses.

As for Elder Yi’s thirty percent share, he planned to split it equally—ten percent each—among himself, his apprentice, and Manager Ning.

Manager Ning felt undeserving, as he hadn't contributed much in this specific regard—and the earnings from the storybooks were already quite lucrative—so he ceded half of his share to Lu Lizhi.

No matter how the internal allocations shifted, Hanmo Pavilion retained the lion's share of sixty percent while treating the others generously; finally, they could rest easy, no longer fearing that someone might poach their key associates.

The very night Lu Lizhi returned to the Jiang household, he received the new contracts from Elder Yi and Manager Ning. Between the three-tenths share of the profits from the printed storybooks and the one-and-a-half-tenths share from the storytelling performances, a rough calculation showed he could earn anywhere from two thousand to three thousand taels a month.

"The trouble is, Hanmo Pavilion lacks a backer; judging by the manager's attitude, he simply doesn't have the energy to expand the business elsewhere. I, on the other hand, have a few sworn brothers to lend a hand—we could likely make a fortune if we expanded!" Manager Ning spoke with a hint of smug satisfaction.

"Hanmo Pavilion is a different sort of operation; expanding to other regions carries significant risk. Besides, here in Xuanhe Prefecture, plenty of travelers come specifically for the performances, so there’s no real need to venture elsewhere."

More importantly, Old Master Yi had spent half a lifetime honing his storytelling style and skills. He had put great effort into finding a talented young apprentice to mentor personally; expanding the business would require having enough storytellers of that caliber to keep pace. "Going out of town to perform *pingshu*..." He walked over with a smile. Meanwhile, He-shi and Jiang Shizhu were listening nearby; upon learning that Lu Liji wrote story scripts and earned so much money in addition to his studies, they looked at their own...

Thinking that Liji certainly didn't lack money—and seeing the confident smile on the young man's face—both of them couldn't help but glare at him.

Jiang Baiye sat down next to Lu Liji, picked up the teacup Lu Liji had just used, took a couple of sips, and spoke.

"Being far away in Chongzhou won't interfere with the business here; Liji and Shopkeeper Ning will still get their share of the profits. If you are willing, Elder Yi, could you help mentor the *pingshu* storyteller? I’ll find someone experienced, though they certainly won't match your skill. Funding isn't an issue—feel free to name your price!"

Elder Yi hurriedly waved his hands in refusal. In truth, neither party strictly needed the other for financial gain or utility, but the gesture of including him was truly heartwarming.

Without this, they might gradually drift apart; he would eventually grow distant from Qingyuan-jun and Shopkeeper Ning, and Elder Yi deeply cherished the relationship and interactions he shared with them.

"There are plenty of *pingshu* storytellers out there far better than I am; there's no need for me to mentor anyone," he said modestly. "We could exchange pointers, though—learning from each other's strengths."

"We still need you to cast a professional eye over things." Jiang Baiye replied courteously.

However, Shopkeeper Ning felt as though a big gray wolf were sitting right in front of him, wagging its tail.

Beside him, the "little white rabbit"—seemingly oblivious to the danger—sat quietly and obediently; when he reached for the teacup on the table, his hand brushed against the hand resting on the lid.

In itself, this was nothing unusual, but what left Shopkeeper Ning dumbfounded was how Lu Liji instantly recoiled his hand, only for Jiang Baiye to smile, refill the cup, slide it back within Lu Liji's reach, and give the table a gentle, playful tap.

It was an inexplicably intimate moment.

Meanwhile, the He couple was also curiously asking about "Lord Qingyuan," their hearts pounding with a mix of emotions.

One moment, they were delighted that Liji was so outstanding—proving their son certainly had a good eye—and the next, they were fretting over the vast disparity between the two, unable to set their minds at ease.

It wasn't that they doubted Lu Liji’s character or feared he might abandon his husband and child later on; rather, their generation placed great stock in the concept of "social parity"—believing that without a match in status and background, even a forced union would not lead to happiness.

As He-shi led Jiang Baiye outside, Old Master Yi brought up an earlier conversation: "Dean Lu from Mingli Academy was asking me about you; he’ll likely come looking for you soon. Although I didn't reveal anything specific, I suspect your identity won't be hard for him to guess." Lu Li nodded. As the gathering broke up, he caught sight of Lu Qinghong, who was staring at him with an expression of utter disbelief.

The scene was strikingly similar to that time at the Hanmo Pavilion restaurant; a man as arrogant as Lu Qinghong had once been was now forced to bow to him.

Such is the allure of wealth, power, and status.

Lu Li took a sip of tea, a cryptic look playing on his face.

Back at the Lu estate, Lu Changsheng tapped his fingers rapidly against his knee. "So, it really might be that young scholar who snatched the top spot in the examinations?"

"Grandfather, that’s impossible!" Lu Qinghong denied it without a second thought, feeling genuinely vexed by the very suggestion.

"He’s nothing special. Even you believed that Qingyuan Jun was a reclusive master scholar—someone of advanced years—yet this fellow is barely nineteen." ”

Lu Qinghong was actually a year his senior.

Lu Changsheng glanced at him. "You ought to pray that it *is* him. If he were some renowned Confucian scholar, he wouldn't be easily manipulated; but if he’s merely a lowly *xiucai*—a scholar of the lowest rank—then things become much simpler..."

He narrowed his eyes.

Lu Qinghong grasped the implication and felt a jolt of shock: was the plan to force Lord Qingyuan to act as a ghostwriter or a proxy for him?

Lu Qinghong found the idea utterly implausible; Lord Qingyuan lacked neither fame nor fortune—what leverage could possibly be used against him?

Yet, if the target were Lu Liji, Lu Qinghong would have been confident enough. It was simply that he refused to think that way; unwilling to admit he was inferior to Lu Liji, he preferred the path of impersonation instead.

Lu Changsheng, however, took a far more pragmatic approach. He immediately dispatched men to gather intelligence on Lu Liji, seeking out any weak points or incriminating secrets that could be used to bring the man under their control and make him serve their ends.

Meanwhile, Lu Liji remained unaware of their malicious schemes. After finishing his medicine, a sweet, candied fruit was popped into his mouth.

"My mother says that someone like you ought to be chained to the bed or locked inside a magnificent golden cage—that way, you’d never be able to spread your wings and fly away." Lu Li shot him a glance; though the look was meant to convey disdain, Jiang Baiye perceived a seductive allure in it.

He happily helped Lu Li up, then came up with a ridiculous idea: "If only you could get pregnant—then I could tie you to me with a child!"

Lu Li’s brow twitched, and a cold sweat broke out on his back at the thought. Pregnancy... Granny Li’s constant worries about his constitution weren't entirely unfounded; she seemed to believe it was a possibility.

Yet, Lu Li found the notion absurd and preposterous. He possessed none of the traits of a woman; if anything, his male physiology was fully functional.

He viewed himself strictly as a man.

But if he *could* bear a child...

Thinking of the clever, adorable little girls and the round-eyed boys in the village who called out "Daddy," he felt a sudden, powerful tug at his heartstrings.

He was charmed by the idea.

Jiang Baiye was about to let his imagination run wild, but Lu Li—who had to rise early the next day to return to the academy—kicked him, unwilling to indulge such fanciful nonsense.

It wasn't something he could do.

And what couldn't be done, simply couldn't be done.

Well-fed and warm, thoughts turned to intimacy; Jiang Baiye’s dark eyes gleamed with deep intensity. "How about you take me in your mouth again, and I’ll do the same for you?" ”

Lu Liya covered his ears.

Why was it that sometimes he missed him so much—missing him to the point where he couldn't bring himself to do anything else, his thoughts constantly drifting to him—yet at other times, he felt such aversion?

Jiang Baiye was exceptionally patient in this regard; he pestered Lu Liya for half the night, whispering sweet nothings and words of affection that made the corners of Lu Liya’s mouth twitch upward despite himself. Lu Liya felt a tickle deep in his ears—he was, after all, a man whose resolve was rarely shaken.

But he enjoyed controlling Jiang Baiye and managing his emotions.

He opened his eyes, his face flushed with heat, and slowly sat up. Just as he was about to lean down, he noticed that the figure in the darkness had gone quiet.

Realizing the other man had fallen asleep, Lu Liya laughed in exasperation; he roughly shook Jiang Baiye awake—the bed could barely withstand their roughhousing—and then, leaving a bewildered Jiang Baiye behind, he pulled the quilt up over his own head.

Time to sleep.

Jiang Baiye felt like crying but had no tears. "Liya, you're so mean. What good does it do you to wake me up?" ”

That was what he said, yet he stopped teasing him; instead, he wrapped his arms around him from behind—blanket and all—holding him in a tight embrace while mentally calculating when those tools might finally come in handy.

It was no small undertaking, nor was it a painless process; whenever passion flared, neither of them could spare a thought for anything else, yet they still had to pick a time when it wasn't too cold...

After Lu Lijia returned to the academy, no one knew where he had been—not even Ding Lihui and the others who were closest to him.

However, anyone with a discerning eye could see that Master Yi’s attitude toward him had softened considerably—though the master remained just as strict, pushing Lu Lijia to the point of obsession in an effort to draw out his full potential.

He was even more severe and exacting than Prefect Yan.

During the two days following his return, Lu Lijia received a great deal of encouragement and truly roused his spirits. The first to bear the brunt of this new intensity were Yi Shuyun and his fellow students from the Upper Class; they were constantly lectured by their instructor, who berated them for failing to outperform a newcomer—even after two years of preparation!

Lu Li’s sheer drive single-handedly ratcheted up the pressure across the entire prefectural academy to a suffocating level, leaving the other students groaning in misery.

With the annual assessment fast approaching, Yu Zhijie—unable to come up with any new schemes to torment Lu Li—was forced to shelve his plans for the time being and buckle down to his studies.

Later, Lu Li returned for another acupuncture session, though Instructor Yi granted him only a single day off, terrified that he might slack off in the slightest.

Lu Li eventually came to appreciate the instructor's good intentions and felt deeply grateful, though the situation certainly made life grueling for both himself and Jiang Baiye.

Jiang Baiye insisted he could handle it, saying, "The New Year break is just around the corner, after all." However, the New Year holiday lasted only five days.

While other students might have enjoyed a bit more leeway, Master Yi and the other instructors practically wished that the scholars preparing to take the Provincial Examination next year wouldn't go home at all.

Routine breaks—such as the leave granted for the seasonal changing of clothes or the standard ten-day rest periods—were cancelled outright; unless a student had an urgent matter requiring a personal explanation to an instructor, they were expected to have family members deliver winter clothing and other necessities instead.

Once Lu Lixie became truly busy with his studies, Jiang Baiye had to set aside any other thoughts or plans. He and Lixie had a long future ahead of them, but the Imperial Examinations allowed for no carelessness.

At first, Song Haocheng and the others were unaware that Lu Lixie intended to sit for the Provincial Examination the following year. It was only during a later minor assessment that Master Yi directly compared him to the scholars of the Upper Hall—and harshly reprimanded the others in the process—that the truth came out.

The dozens of students in the Outer Hall were left in a state of stunned disbelief. "Is he trying to reach for the heavens?"

"He is brilliant, admittedly—gifted with exceptional talent and a sharp mind—but the standard preparation period is three years. Even Tai Song, who achieved the rare feat of placing first in the county, prefectural, and provincial exams consecutively, wouldn't have dared to be so reckless!" ”

For brilliant minds like theirs, simply passing the exam wasn't enough; if they wanted to vie for a top ranking, they couldn't afford a single misstep from the very beginning.

Even when it came to the eventual *Zhuangyuan* (top scholar), if a candidate had consistently secured first place and achieved outstanding results in the earlier stages, the Emperor—seated high in the Golden Hall—would naturally view them with particular favor.

Therefore, not a single step could go wrong.

That was why even Song Haocheng and the others urged Lu Lixia, "It’s too hasty. While a setback isn't the end of the road—you could always try again—for someone like you..."

They left the rest unsaid, but Lu Lixia understood; to put it somewhat narcissistically, it would be like a blemish on a piece of flawless jade.

Lu Lixia did desire perfection, yet he wouldn't obsess over it if it proved unattainable; he had not forgotten the true reason he had set out to take the imperial examinations in the first place.

During this period, He made inquiries at the prefectural academy about his father’s time there. His father had been quite renowned, yet few people who knew him remained; most had moved on—promoted, returned to their hometowns, or scattered to different parts of the country.

The library still held some of the books his father had read, along with his annotations and commentaries.

Lu Lizhi gathered these volumes to cherish the memory of his father; it felt as though his father was guiding him from ahead, and the books proved incredibly useful for his current studies.

Every time he finished reading one, he experienced a moment of sudden, profound insight.

Fei Hongyu and Ding Lihui curiously picked up the books but found no such resonance; instead, they were filled with worry. "Since you’ve definitely decided to take the provincial examination, perhaps you shouldn't be reading these kinds of books."

Lu Lizhi simply smiled and said nothing.

Song Haocheng, however, shook his head. Little did the others realize that a gap in intellectual depth had already opened up between them and Lu Lizhi; the obscure or advanced texts that seemed irrelevant to them were proving invaluable to him.

Lu Lizhi’s pace of learning was astonishing; even Song Haocheng—who had once understood him quite well—was being left far behind.

Song Haocheng felt a vague sense of dread: if he didn't seize the moment, the distance between him and Lu Lizhi would grow so vast that he would never be able to catch up.

He found himself terrified by this feeling, as if, by some unseen destiny, they were meant to walk this path together.

"I’m going to take the provincial examination next year, too!"

"!" They’ve all gone mad—one after another. When news spread to the Inner and Upper Halls that two students from the Outer Hall intended to sit for the Provincial Examination next year, the reaction in the Inner Hall was explosive—to say nothing of the Upper Hall.

"Lu Li might actually stand a chance, but why is Song Haocheng trying to muscle in? Do they think we’ve been twiddling our thumbs for the past two years?"

Quotas for the Provincial Examination are strictly limited; for two junior scholars to suddenly announce their intention to participate meant they were effectively trying to snatch up spots belonging to the others.

Competition for the exam was already unprecedentedly fierce. To see them trying to jump the queue and join in without following the standard progression raised eyebrows: "How could their instructors possibly agree to this?"

Instructor Yi certainly did not agree. He had only consented to Lu Li’s participation because Professor Huang had personally intervened; otherwise, given his cautious nature, he would never have allowed Lu Li to take such a risk—especially when the young man had a genuine shot at ranking among the top few.

As for Song Haocheng, Instructor Yi simply told him to focus on his studies and not let others distract him.

"Stick to the established path; seeking quick success is a recipe for failure."

Song Haocheng was crestfallen. He clenched his fists, realizing he would have to prove his worth at a later date.

Meanwhile, Jiang Baiye finally found an opportunity to visit He Min, only to learn from him that Song Haocheng also intended to sit for the Provincial Examination. "That guy—he’s acting like I don't even exist!"

He Min asked in confusion, "Why do you say that? Does his taking the provincial exam somehow get in your way?"

"How could he possibly get in my way? That would imply I actually cared enough to consider him a factor." Still, Jiang Baiye pettily whispered a few complaints into He Min's ear.

"In that case, I want braised lion's head meatballs, clams braised with vermicelli, and hot and sour beef slices..." As the list of dishes poured out, Jiang Baiye’s face turned a sickly green; realizing he had to prepare food for Li-er anyway, he decided he might as well let this brat have his fill. "Go on, then!"

Before long, Lu Li-er was summoned over. He had expected it to be the usual routine—picking up the food box—but was surprised to find the cook himself waiting there.

His smile widened in delight; it was like the fresh air after a rain in the mountains, or melting snow turning into the gentle waters of spring.

Jiang Baiye had already opened his arms, wrapping them around Lu Li-er’s slender, supple waist. "Don't go; sit on my lap. Let me feed you."

Lu Li-er glanced at him, wanting to explain that he had no dealings with Song Haocheng, Yi Shuyun, or any of the random people Jiang Baiye had inexplicably grown jealous of.

"I just want to feed you." Jiang Baiye held him with one arm while opening the food box with the other; though it was a bit awkward, his movements remained steady.

Feeling safe among his own people, Lu Li-er draped his arms around Jiang Baiye’s shoulders and slipped his hands—frozen red and icy cold—inside Jiang Baiye’s robe to warm them against his chest. Jiang Baiye hissed, "Why are your hands so cold?"

Lu Liya moved his hands away from Jiang Baiye’s scorching, muscular frame and tucked them inside his inner robe to warm them up.

Jiang Baiye had been the one to teach him this trick initially; Lu Liya had gradually grown accustomed to it, finding it truly warmer than a hand warmer.

Jiang Baiye scooped up a spoonful of rice to feed him, but seeing it was just plain rice, Lu Liya signaled with his eyes toward the blanched choy sum nearby.

"Give me a kiss, and I'll feed it to you."

So that was the deal; Lu Liya gave him a perfunctory peck, and Jiang Baiye happily fed him the greens.

Just then, He Min’s voice rang out from outside: "Senior Brother Song, could you give me a hand? I’m too short to reach it."

As he spoke, the door was pushed open. The little rascal He Min was startled: "Brother Baiye? What are you doing here?"

Realizing he might have seen something he shouldn't have, he hurriedly covered his eyes. "I didn't see anything!" He scrambled to pull the door shut but fumbled clumsily, unable to close it.

Song Haocheng, who had already seen everything clearly, stood there speechless... his inquisitive gaze inevitably landing on Jiang Baiye, who was holding Lu Liya.

Jiang Baiye’s face darkened slightly. The brat’s acting was so over-the-top—anyone could see it was a staged performance. It made it look as though he cared deeply about what Song Haocheng thought.

"Come back here."

"Huh?" He Min was momentarily dazed by this sudden deviation from the plan. "What do you need? I'll help you." With that, Jiang Baiye stood up, cradling the other man in one arm.

Lu Lixu hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to struggle or not; before he could decide, Jiang Baiye had already carried him over to the cabinet He Min had vaguely pointed at.

"That suitcase... c-could you get it down for me?" He Min asked, looking at the suitcase atop the cabinet—a gift Senior Lu had brought from home for him.

Lu Lixu tried to get down, but Jiang Baiye held him fast with a sharp reaction, declaring, "I can handle it."

And indeed, Jiang Baiye easily retrieved it with one hand, though Lu Lixu felt mortified by his childish and deliberate display.

Song Haocheng, vaguely sensing the situation, felt his handsome face flush crimson; it seemed this "Qi Jiu" had misunderstood the nature of his relationship with Lu Lixu—perhaps having heard those old rumors?

Having shown off his strength, Jiang Baiye handed the suitcase to He Min with his free hand. Throughout the entire interaction, he never once put Lu Lixu down; Lu Lixu simply clung to him like an accessory, carried with effortless ease that showcased the man's boundless strength.

It was like a male marking his territory—a display that left He Min, a clueless kid who hadn't yet discovered romance, completely dumbfounded.

Song Haocheng couldn't even recall how he eventually left; the only thing that stuck in his memory was the final scene: Lu Lixu sighing—looking both resigned and doting—and planting a kiss on the corner of the man's mouth. Jiang Baiye was successfully mollified and had achieved his goal of intimidating his romantic rival; he then strode away, carrying the two empty food boxes with a triumphant, swaggering air.

He Min described the scene: "Brother Baiye looks just like a victorious rooster."

Lu Lizhi: "..."

The annual examination arrived in the blink of an eye. It was a collective test for over a hundred students holding the *xiucai* degree, bringing together those from the Upper, Inner, and Outer Halls to compete on equal footing.

Generally, students from the Outer Hall performed poorly, yet the exam offered a crucial opportunity to improve their academic ranking.

Yu Zhijie was brimming with confidence, aiming to secure a spot as a *linsheng* (a government-subsidized scholar), while Lu Lizhi and Song Haocheng hoped to be assigned to a better hall.

Instructors taught across all the halls; while their areas of expertise differed, the curriculum content remained largely the same—though the pace of instruction varied drastically.

The atmosphere in the Outer Hall was relatively relaxed, whereas the Upper Hall—comprising students preparing for the Provincial Examination the following year—was under intense pressure, with lessons moving at a much faster clip.

Lu Lizhi wanted to enter the Upper Hall based on his own merit, rather than relying on the connections to Prefect Yan that had facilitated his initial admission.

The annual examination ran from the twenty-sixth to the twenty-seventh day of the twelfth lunar month. By the afternoon of the twenty-seventh, the results were posted on the academy's main gate, visible to anyone passing by outside.

From that morning onwards, the families of many students had been arriving from various places to take them home. As soon as the red list was posted, everyone crowded around excitedly, clamoring to find their own children's names.

Some spotted the names at a glance, while others suddenly slapped their foreheads in realization: "Look at me—I can't even read! Why am I joining in the commotion?"

They would then hurriedly ask those nearby who were literate, "Did you see the name Li Haixing?"

"Which class is your child in?"

"I don't know; he's a *tongsheng* [entry-level scholar]."

"The *tongsheng* list is over there; this is the list for *xiucai* [licentiates]."

At that moment, the weather-beaten old man’s face filled with envy. "*Xiucai*... being a *xiucai* is truly wonderful. Even the list is different—posted in such a prominent spot!"

Jiang Baiye, being tall, stood on the outskirts of the crowd and spotted Lu Lixu's name immediately; it was positioned in a way that made it easy to find.

"That’s my Lixu for you—whatever he sets his mind to, he achieves!"

Having passed the Outer, Inner, and even Upper Halls—and taking first place to boot—Lu Lixu’s success thrilled Jiang Baiye even more than if he had achieved the top rank himself. His heart swelled with pride as he shared the news with He Shi, who was standing beside him. The two men were overjoyed, beaming with delight. "I knew the name in that spot would be Lu Li!"

Just then, a gentle, refined voice spoke up beside him: "Young man, could you help me find the name Song Haocheng? I don't know how to read."

Jiang Baiye was momentarily taken aback, surmising that the woman must be Song Haocheng’s mother. A memory surfaced: the book had mentioned that Song Haocheng’s mother had contracted the epidemic. When she was critically ill, she had gritted her teeth and held on—refusing to let go of life because, had she passed away then, her son would have been forced to delay the imperial examinations to observe the mourning period.

Song Haocheng had never even known this. When he placed second in the imperial examinations—the *bangyan*—his mother heard the news, finally let out the breath she had been holding, and passed away on that very day of his greatest triumph.

This became a lifelong source of anguish for Song Haocheng; it was a memory he dared not dwell upon.

It wasn't pity for Song Haocheng that occupied Jiang Baiye’s mind, however, but rather a sudden thought regarding the epidemic itself.

Calculating the timeline, it was due to strike next spring—that season where bitter cold gives way to new growth. No one knew where the first case originated, but it had spread rapidly to countless places.

He had stocked up heavily on *Zhuwei* grass in his workshop, gathering the entire harvest from the mountains the previous year. He had sold only a small portion to Master Sun, keeping the rest in storage—a decision that had left his craftsmen puzzled and confused. Setting that aside, Jiang Baiye located Song Haocheng’s name in a prominent spot: "Top of the Inner Hall, ranked twenty-third among all students."

"Inner Hall? So, he’s been promoted?"

"Yes, congratulations. You don't look to be in the best of health, ma'am; if you have the time, you might want to visit the Sun Family Apothecary in Changlin County."

The woman was slightly taken aback; naturally, no one would be pleased to have a stranger remark on their poor health or suggest a medical visit, yet Song’s mother nodded nonetheless.

"All right, thank you, young man. I’ll keep your words in mind."

Jiang Baiye’s expression was genuinely sincere, but since Changlin County was quite a distance from her home, Song’s mother would likely forget the matter soon after...

Just then, the dismissal bell rang, and a crowd of students burst out cheerfully, like fledglings leaving the nest.

Such lively scenes were common whenever classes let out, but what made this particular moment unusual was that many students were pulling long, wooden, box-like cases that rolled smoothly along the ground.

Students who previously would have been burdened with carrying poles or heavy book satchels now had their hands and bodies free; they could walk briskly while casually pulling the cases with just one hand.

Those with more belongings pulled two cases with ease, leaving the onlookers outside wide-eyed and buzzing with astonished chatter.

No matter how many times they had pulled them before, the students remained excited; as soon as they emerged, they eagerly showed off the contraption's wonders to their families. Jiang Zhuzhu felt a touch of bashfulness, especially hearing these accomplished, distinguished individuals speak so highly of the work—praising the "exquisite craftsmanship," the "ingenious design and flawless execution," and noting how it had "helped us immensely," with plans to "buy more."

He felt an indescribable sense of pride!

His eyes welled up with emotion.

To be a useful person—someone who truly helps countless students—was a wonderfully fulfilling feeling.

Meanwhile, Madam He was looking around, sizing up the crowd; yet, few could compare to her Changsui.

There were handsome young men with different styles, certainly, but they were mostly frail, scholarly types—weaklings who couldn't even carry their own luggage without help from family.

Some even put on affected airs; they were worlds apart from Li-er.

"It would be a miracle if Li-er took a fancy to any of them!"

It took quite a while for Lu Li-er to finally emerge from the departing crowd, having been held back by Master Yi and Professor Huang.

He was then waylaid by many seeking advice on study methods; however, with Jiang Baiye waiting outside, he politely declined them one by one. Even so, a small crowd still trailed behind him as he stepped out.

It was quite an impressive sight, drawing frequent glances from the onlookers. Seeing the look of distress on Lu Lixia's face, Song Haocheng spotted Jiang Baiye not far off; he took the initiative to disperse the crowd for him and even answered some of their questions on Lu Lixia's behalf.

Only then did the crowd let him go, and Lu Lixia gave him a grateful smile.

"Oh my, that man looks quite handsome!" Mother He clapped her hands, then glanced at another person who had quickly stepped over to talk to Lu Lixia. "That one looks good, too."

Jiang Baiye thought to himself that his mother certainly had a sharp eye; those two fellows were none other than Song Haocheng and Yi Shuyun.

However, he felt it necessary to clarify one thing.

"Lixia only likes me; he isn't into men in general. He doesn't care much for other men—he might even prefer the company of girls over them."

Mother He was amused by his shamelessness.

After picking everyone up, the family happily returned to Qingshui Village to celebrate the New Year.

A few days prior, Jiang Baiye’s family had prepared generous New Year’s gifts. There were presents for his mother’s close friends, as well as for Village Chief Wang, Uncle Luo, Grandma Li, and the various foremen and managers at his workshop—the latter serving as year-end bonuses.

The gifts were substantial: cured meat, pastries, brown sugar, and liquor, not to mention rice and live poultry—chickens, ducks, geese, and fish. Jiang Baiye hurried back and dismissed the workshop’s hired hands so they could go home for the New Year. The master craftsmen were all beaming as they accepted their holiday gifts, planning to bring return gifts after the break—a customary exchange of goodwill.

Jiang Baiye held these craftsmen—who had committed to building the business alongside him from the start—in high regard. They had kept the workshop running smoothly in his absence without a single major issue, and he genuinely valued his relationship with them.

As the first month of the lunar calendar approached, the festive atmosphere of the New Year quickly intensified. Even though many able-bodied men from Qingshui Village were still out braving the wind and snow to dig irrigation ditches—risking life and limb—no one wanted to wear a sour face during the holiday; everyone hoped for good fortune in the coming year.

However, something unexpected happened on New Year's Eve.

That morning, just after the He woman had returned from the snow-covered garden...

He had just returned with a few radishes when he brought back a piece of news.

"Jiang Dashan is dead—he froze to death in last night's snow!"

Jiang Dazhu, who was washing the dishes, accidentally dropped and shattered a bowl.

"What are you doing? Breaking things brings good luck—breaking things brings good luck," Mother Jiang muttered, quickly gathering the shards and tossing them against the wall outside.

"He never really recovered after that beating, you know; his leg was ruined. Later, when the woman—Li—ran off, he was left in Old Man Jiang's care. Old Man Jiang isn't doing too well himself; he even wandered near our place a few times, though in the end, he didn't cause any more trouble."

Jiang Dazhu felt a complex mix of emotions. Ever since that incident, he had deliberately cut himself off from news about that family, and indeed, he had felt much better for it.

Jiang Baiye sighed. "Dad, if you want to go see him, then go."

Jiang Dazhu’s eyes reddened. "I don't want to see him; there's nothing worth seeing." He then lowered his head and went back to washing the dishes.

Lu Li put down his book and went over to help, wanting to offer some comfort; no matter how vicious or selfish those people were, they were still blood relatives—bound by ties that couldn't be severed.

As for Jiang Baiye, the old grievances had long since faded, and he had stopped caring about them entirely; he hadn't even known that Li had run away.

"Once the New Year's Eve dinner is ready, let's send some over to Grandpa." As long as Old Man Jiang didn't cause trouble, Jiang Baiye didn't mind making a gesture of goodwill. The New Year's Eve dinner for the family of four wasn't elaborate, but every dish was exquisite and delicious. At one point, when no one was paying attention, Jiang Baiye took a bowl of food he had set aside earlier and carried it over to the Old Jiang family's house.

When he returned, the other three didn't say a word; they simply started eating, and the cheerful atmosphere quickly resumed.

That evening, Jiang Baiye took Lu Li'an out to set off some homemade fireworks. When a burst of fireworks shot into the sky and bloomed, it instantly startled the entire village.

"What is that?"

"Is it some kind of celestial omen?"

"That smells like firecrackers—it must be some kind of firework that kid Jiang Baiye cooked up. Quick, everyone go out and look; it's beautiful!"

Hearing this, a crowd of children shouted with excitement and ran toward Jiang Baiye's house.

Many of them were even given a small "sparkler" or two; the flames hissed and crackled, creating a memory that would become one of the happiest and most unforgettable moments of their lives.

The fireworks display lasted for quite a while. Although they were homemade and rather crude—pale imitations compared to the fireworks Jiang Baiye had seen in the modern world—Lu Li'an watched them without blinking, his eyes filled with emotion.

He reflected on how different this year was from the past; he was no longer alone, no longer living a life as cold and desolate as the snow. He possessed almost everything he had ever desired—

A beloved partner, wealth, fame, and a life free from want; a new home filled with warmth; friends and classmates striving alongside him; mentors who championed and valued him; and like-minded partners...

He was immersed in deep affection and a life of abundance, no longer plagued by the gloom of a hopeless tomorrow.

Over at the Jiang family home, Old Man Jiang sat dazed at the table, gazing at the brilliant fireworks rising in the distance, before picking up the bowl set before him.

It was heaped with the meat dishes he had once yearned to taste—as if someone had wanted him to eat his fill. The rice was packed tight, the portions were generous, and every dish was delicious.

Though the food had gone cold, Old Man Jiang ate with immense satisfaction. Yet, tears of regret quickly welled up in his sunken, aged eye sockets; they dripped into the cold food, only to be consumed mouthful by mouthful along with the meal.

Jiang Qingshan’s body had been tidied up by clansmen and laid outside the main hall, covered by a white sheet.

Old Man Jiang finished every last grain of rice in his bowl. He then rummaged frantically through chests and cabinets, muttering to himself as he searched for something.

Finding nothing, he slumped in defeat. He struggled to climb onto the icy bed, lay flat, and stared quietly at the roof beams overhead.

The last stub of a candle in the room flickered weakly, casting a faint glow before slowly succumbing to the darkness of the night. Before dawn the next day, urgent knocking sounded at Jiang Baiye’s door; Jiang Baiye, who was snuggled up warmly and comfortably with his partner, didn't want to budge at all.

It was Jiang Lizhu who ran out to open the door.

There was a burst of hushed conversation, and then silence quickly returned.

Lu Lixia sensed something was amiss and tugged Jiang Baiye up; once they were out of bed, they learned that Old Man Jiang had passed away during the night.

Jiang Lizhu had remained composed at first, but upon arriving at the Jiang family home and seeing the bowls on the table licked clean, he finally broke down.

"That was my own father!"

Although they had severed family ties, Jiang Lizhu and He Shi had decided—in keeping with custom—not to pay New Year’s visits to the Jiang household; it was the last shred of consideration they intended to show Old Man Jiang.

Jiang Baiye, however, went about his business as usual; he treated Old Man Jiang like a stranger by this point. On the first day of the Lunar New Year, he took Lu Lixia straight to the He family’s home for a meal, unwilling to let the news dampen his spirits.

He had been looking forward to a rare break from cooking, only to arrive at the He household and find everyone—along with a few unfamiliar faces who were likely relatives—eating hotpot!

That was a bit embarrassing, wasn't it?

Lu Lixia, however, hadn't had hotpot in ages and found himself craving it. Sitting with Master Pang, the two of them couldn't help but admire his carefree attitude—choosing not to return home even for the Lunar New Year.

"Your employer back there must be going out of their mind with anxiety; they probably suspect we’ve bought you off and are likely plotting something in the shadows."

Master Pang gave a scoffing snort. Lately, the letters he’d received had been arriving in rapid succession, each one using a different excuse to urge him to return.

It was a clear sign of distrust—or rather, a blatant lack of faith in him.

Master Pang was thoroughly annoyed; he couldn't even be bothered to make the trip back he had originally planned.

"So, when does the Hanmo Pavilion open again? I’ve missed a few sessions—how could they just close up shop?"

Lu Li: "..."

"They need to celebrate the New Year too, you know—even though there would certainly be people willing to come and listen during the holiday."

Just as Jiang Baiye finished speaking with Master Pang, a knocking sound rang out at the He family's gate.

Steward He came in to report, "It’s someone from Shanyi Hall—they say they’ve come all the way from the capital!"