Chapter 10: He

Further ahead, under the setting sun, green-tiled wooden houses were arranged neatly across the slope.

He passed through the bustling marketplace and arrived at a quiet alley at the western edge of town, where low courtyard walls were overrun with honeysuckle vines, and a few branches of peach blossoms leaned over the fence, strikingly vivid in the twilight.

A little girl with twin buns and a boy with a running nose were playing in the alley.

Seeing Lu Beigu, the girl sprinted forward like a joyful fawn and crashed into his arms.

“Uncle Lu!”

Lu Beigu instinctively caught her, even lifting her up and spinning her around out of habit, a wave of warmth rising in his chest.

She was his niece, Lu Yuchi.

“Oh!”

Following close behind Lu Yuchi, Lu Yanxi stretched out his small hands toward him, but being too young to balance, he tumbled straight into a pothole on the alley ground.

Lu Beigu picked him up, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped his snot.

In the original body’s memories, their family had once lived in Jingcheng, but for reasons unknown, they had returned to their hometown.

There were three siblings in the family; only the elder sister, Lu Nanzhi, had married and stayed in Jingcheng, and they had lost contact for many years.

Their parents died early, so from the moment he could understand things, he had been raised by his elder brother and sister-in-law. A few years ago, his elder brother fell ill and passed away, leaving only his sister-in-law, Pei Yan, to hold the household together.

The clan was cold and indifferent, so life at home had been hard these past years.

Yet despite their poverty, the family was not unhappy.

At that moment, a white tabby cat leapt down from the wall, punched Lu Beigu lightly as a greeting, then vanished with lightning speed.

“Tofu!”

Lu Yuchi scolded it.

Then Lu Beigu took his niece and nephew by the hand and walked to the very end of the alley. Just as he reached the door and was about to push it open, he heard muffled whispers from inside.

He froze, halting before the half-open courtyard gate.

“Pei Niangzi, I’m not saying this to be cruel,” came a coarse woman’s voice through the crack, “your younger brother has been studying for years—has he achieved anything? He’s always at the bottom of the county school. He’d be better off coming home to help the family.”

Lu Beigu’s hand hovered mid-air as he reached for the door. Lu Yuchi sensed the tension and fell silent.

“You’re joking, Aunt Wang,” replied Pei Yan, her voice gentle but firm, “Beigu works hard. He will surely succeed.”

“Hard work?” Aunt Wang scoffed. “If hard work guaranteed success, everyone would be the top imperial scholar! You’re foolish—not thinking of yourself, not even of your children? Yanxi is still young, but Yuchi is already seven. In a few years, she’ll need a match.”

Aunt Wang’s voice grew sharper: “You’re a widow with two children. How many iron coins do you earn in a year from embroidery? You’re spending it all on a useless scholar—what will you use to buy Yuchi a dowry?”

A rustling of fabric came from inside—the likely sound of Pei Yan twisting her skirt. It was her nervous habit.

After a pause, Pei Yan spoke.

“I appreciate your concern, Aunt Wang. Since Beigu chose the path of study, as his sister-in-law, I will not abandon him, no matter how hard it is to support him.”

“You!” Aunt Wang sighed in frustration, “You’ll be dragged to death by this book-fool! Yuchi is such a good girl—if only—”

“Creak—”

Lu Beigu pushed open the door.

Aunt Wang still clutched a few iron coins she’d pried off a string, her face flushing with embarrassment.

“Mother,” Lu Yuchi slipped from Lu Beigu’s side and threw herself against Pei Yan’s leg.

Pei Yan wore a plain ruqun, with only a wooden hairpin in her hair.

Seeing Lu Beigu, her eyes instantly brightened with delight, then clouded with worry: “What happened to your forehead?”

Lu Beigu touched the scabbed wound and dismissed it lightly: “I bumped it while reading while walking. It’s nothing.”

“Master Lu has returned?”

Aunt Wang rose awkwardly: “Good, I’ve delivered this month’s payment to Pei Niangzi. I’ve got soup simmering at home—I must go check on it.”

Once the courtyard gate closed, Pei Yan immediately pulled him to sit, fetched clean water, and wiped the dirt from the edges of his wound.

Her fingertips were cool, her movements as gentle as a spring breeze brushing petals.

Lu Beigu lowered his head and saw the iron coins and ledger on the courtyard’s stone table.

Sichuan was severely short of copper coins; iron coins were heavy and depreciated, so common folk used them for daily transactions, saving copper coins for emergencies. Merchants, of course, held the opposite view.

Pei Yan worked three jobs daily: before dawn, she gathered herbs in the mountains; in the morning, she washed clothes by the stream; in the afternoon, she embroidered.

The ledger clearly recorded how many wen she paid to enter the mountains, how much soapflower cost for laundry, and how much she gave to the broker.

Ah, Aunt Wang was the town’s broker, taking two-tenths of Pei Yan’s embroidery income each month—otherwise, no matter how skilled, her work wouldn’t sell.

“Sister-in-law, just now—”

“Are you hungry?”

Pei Yan cut him off, adding firewood to the stove: “I figured you’d return tonight, so I made perilla fish.”

In the coarse porcelain bowl, the carp broth was milky white, floating with tender green perilla leaves—likely gathered by Pei Yan herself from the mountain’s foot, given the season.

“How did your policy essay go?”

Pei Yan asked while stoking the fire, her tone casual as if asking about the weather, yet her lips tightened involuntarily after the question.

The burden on the household was too heavy. Even if she wanted to keep supporting her younger brother’s studies, she could only manage this final year.

If his results didn’t improve, he likely wouldn’t pass the county exam this year—even though the county exam was merely the first step on a long road.

But if he failed the county exam, what hope remained for the future?

Conversely, if he passed and entered the prefectural school, he would truly have a chance at becoming a juren. And for that hope, even the clan and friends would lend money to help.

Lu Beigu set down his chopsticks and pulled from his satchel the annotated draft of his policy essay—the original had been pasted to the wall.

“Grade Jia, middle.”

“Clatter.”

The wooden spoon slipped from Pei Yan’s hand. She picked it up, staring blankly at the essay “On Defending Against Xia,” her lips trembling, finally whispering: “R-Really?”

“Absolutely true,” Lu Beigu said softly.

Pei Yan turned away, her shoulders trembling faintly. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting a red glow on her ears.

Lu Yanxi leaned over curiously: “Uncle Lu, is Grade Jia really impressive?”

“Yes, very impressive,” Lu Beigu ruffled his hair. “When I become a jinshi, I’ll buy you candy figures, and for Yuchi, flower hairpins, and—”

“I don’t want flower hairpins,” Lu Yuchi interrupted, pouting. “I just want Uncle Lu to be well.”

The room fell silent. Lu Beigu’s heart swelled with mixed emotions.

To be honest, he had never imagined he would have a poor family that fully supported and cared for him.

This feeling left him strangely overwhelmed.

(End of Chapter)