Chapter 534

Ningrong Street, Bo Jue Mansion, Jia Cong Courtyard.

In the second month of Love Shenjing, bitter cold had not yet faded.

After completing his morning studies, Jia Cong ate lunch in the courtyard, took a few slow walks, then returned to his study to fetch his notes from recent days and carefully study them.

Zhen Ying Lady Lian, wearing a rose-red embroidered jacket over a light blue collared undergarment and a light blue skirt embroidered with orchid branches, followed Jia Cong into the study.

Her face bore a faint weariness; she rubbed her eyes, brewed him a light tea to soothe his throat and aid digestion, then found a casual book and sat beside him, flipping through its pages.

For the past three days, Jia Cong had stayed at the Liu residence on Mount Mount Luocang, where Liu Jing'an had personally reviewed and critiqued each of his recent essays and policy papers, guiding him through his weak points.

The notes in his hands were his distilled reflections from those three days; as he carefully read and compared them, his mind and spirit grew ever more aligned.

Since beginning his mourning period at home, after months of diligent study and the patient guidance of the great Confucian master Liu Jing'an, he felt his scholarship had become clearer and more profound.

The afternoon sun was unusually warm, bathing him in gentle heat; he caught the sweet, clean scent of Zhen Ying Lady Lian beside him, then suddenly felt a slight weight settle on his shoulder.

He turned his head and saw Zhen Ying Lady Lian leaning against his shoulder, her head tilted, the casual book still clutched in her hand, her eyes half-lidded, drifting into sleep.

She was naturally prone to sleepiness; having just eaten lunch, her blood and qi were sluggish, and refusing to nap, the afternoon sun had lulled her into sweet slumber.

The bright afternoon light fell on Zhen Ying Lady Lian's delicate, fair face; the red mole at her brow glowed with a soft luster, her dark lashes curled slightly, her lips pink, soft, and dainty—adorable and charming.

Her body, now gracefully slender and supple, exuded a drowsy, innocent charm, radiating a subtle, inviting warmth that made Jia Cong's spirit feel unusually calm and gentle.

During these days at the Liu residence on Mount Mount Luocang, he had brought only Zhen Ying Lady Lian with him; while he attended Liu Jing'an's lectures, Zhen Ying Lady Lian stayed at the Liu home for three full days.

Every morning she helped him wash and dress, every night she accompanied him as his study companion, and all the daily tasks of the maids fell to her alone—she had not rested more than he had while studying under Liu Jing'an.

Jia Cong had trained his body since childhood under Qu Qu Hongxiu, so he was utterly unbothered by hardship; Zhen Ying Lady Lian, a frail girl, found it harder to endure.

They had returned to the Eastern Mansion last night, and today she had risen with him at dawn—she was clearly severely sleep-deprived.

Jia Cong did not wake her; he merely lowered his arm slightly, letting her rest more comfortably, and continued reading his notes.

After a long while, he noticed Zhen Ying Lady Lian's breathing had deepened into a soft, contented slumber.

He straightened his arm, easing the numbness in his shoulder, then wrapped it gently around her slender waist, drawing her closer against his chest—both of them now more comfortable.

He had intended to continue reading his notes, but the soft warmth and sweet fragrance pressed against him made it impossible to maintain his focus.

He took a sip of the light tea before him, feeling the afternoon sun's soothing warmth; through the window beside his desk, he saw the courtyard's winter desolation fading, spring's vitality beginning to emerge.

Qingwen sat on the veranda, threading a needle, embroidering a hibiscus flower onto a snow-melt silk handkerchief with exquisite needlework; Zhi Shao sat beside her, watching with keen interest.

Beneath the eaves' shade, Lingguan was loosening the soil in two flowerpots sprouting spring buds; Douguan swept fallen leaves with a broom, occasionally waving it, kicking his legs, and striking theatrical opera poses for amusement.

Though winter had not yet fully passed, the courtyard already teemed with the vitality of spring…

…

Beginning in the second month of Emperor Jia Zhao Fifteen, scholars from all corners of the empire converged upon Love Shenjing, striving to turn years of bookish toil into official advancement.

On Love Shenjing's streets, in teahouses and taverns, one often saw candidates in blue robes and Confucian caps, gathered in groups, clinking cups, debating loudly—some dressed plainly, others in lavish attire.

These ambitious scholars from every province lent Love Shenjing's splendor a heavy, scholarly fragrance.

Anyone who passed the provincial examination was already among the elite of the literati.

Even if they never became Rank Jinshi, they could still become local gentry or renowned scholars, using the scholar tax exemption to acquire land from commoners and rise as wealthy landowners.

Even if they failed the metropolitan examination, Provincial Graduate Wu still had opportunities for office—they could be selected as low-ranking officials or assistant magistrates, and with good fortune, even appointed as seven-pinnacle county magistrates.

But with Provincial Graduate Wu status alone, even if granted a low office, there was no further promotion possible; to advance further in officialdom, one must become a Rank Jinshi.

Thus, for every candidate arriving in the capital, though the metropolitan examination was perilously difficult, each aimed solely for Rank Jinshi status—to leap through the dragon's gate into officialdom.

At this stage of the imperial examination, the stakes extended beyond personal fate—they involved a family, a locality, even an entire faction's future.

One man's success brought honor and prestige to his family, clan, and village—even his chickens and dogs rose in status.

Those behind him—his fellow villagers, his patron, his examination cohort—gained new influence, extending their reach into the court and adding fresh power to the political struggle…

…

In every metropolitan examination, thousands of scholars arrived in the capital, yet only a tiny fraction ever made the top three ranks.

This was a crueler winnowing than the prefectural or provincial exams; every candidate would spare nothing, exhaust every resource, even resort to any means, to claim the ultimate glory of the examination hall.

Before the metropolitan examination, these candidates had already begun their fierce battle for official prestige, though each employed different methods.

Some, upon arriving in the capital, shut themselves indoors, studying relentlessly, hoping to win fame through true talent.

Others, upon arrival, rallied friends, visited high officials and celebrities, ingratiated themselves with examiners' households—to build their reputation and seek examination opportunities…

Love Shenjing lay within Yongzhou; as the provincial Yongzhou Jieyuan of Yongzhou, Jia Cong naturally stood out in this surge of ambition.

Recently, when the court selected the chief examiner for the metropolitan examination, both Guo Guo Youchang of the Ministry of Rites and Zheng Yan of the Temple of Ancestral Worship were unexpectedly rejected, sparking rumors that still swirled in the streets.

Nearly every candidate arriving in the capital had heard this rumor; tied to the chief examiner and the previous Yongzhou Yongzhou Jieyuan, it instantly drew the attention of all scholars.

Any rumor concerning the crown of the metropolitan examination always became the most eagerly discussed topic among candidates.

Thus, under invisible pressure, Jia Cong—the heir of the Rong State, gifted in both literature and martial arts, author of grand essays, ennobled by a single triumph, whose poetry and prose had stirred the empire—gathered a dazzling array of accolades.

Soon, the previous Yongzhou Yongzhou Jieyuan, Jia Cong, became the hottest focus of this year's metropolitan examination; every scholar arriving in the capital fixed their gaze on the grand Bo Jue Mansion on Ningrong Street.

…

Ningrong Street, Bo Jue Mansion, West Corner Gate.

Three or four candidates in blue robes and Confucian caps waited anxiously at the gate.

One, a man in his early twenties, had an ordinary face, a slender build, and bright, alert eyes full of spirit.

He gazed at the towering, splendid Bo Jue Mansion and its black plaque with golden characters reading "Bo Jue Mansion of Lord Weiyuan," his eyes filled with admiration and longing.

He said to his companion: "Brother Brother Yichun, we both passed the provincial examination before twenty—among even the culturally flourishing Jiangnan region, we are considered early achievers.

I hear Jia Jia Yuzhang is only fifteen this year, yet he already became Yongzhou Jieyuan—outshining us by far. Truly astonishing."

The man called Brother Brother Yichun, also around twenty, was calm and composed, radiating scholarly grace that set him apart from his peers.

He smiled and said: "Jia Jia Yuzhang was invited to the Nanxi Literary Gathering at age ten, and there composed the line, 'Already a hundred-zhang cliff of ice, yet a flower branch still blooms.' His talent is extraordinary.

At ten, we were still mischievous boys in the countryside—let alone his later poems, each one capable of standing as a masterpiece in literary circles, remembered for centuries. How strange is it that such a man passed the examination young?"

"But though he possesses such world-class poetic genius, he seems uninterested in it; since composing those two new poems in Jinling, he has produced nothing for two years—what a pity."

The ordinary-looking candidate, quick-tempered, paced twice in front of the West Corner Gate.

Impatiently, he said: "The household servants took our letters inside—this has taken long enough. Why no reply yet?"

An older candidate among them, seemingly experienced, stroked his beard and smiled: "Xiwén, calm down. This Bo Jue Mansion was once the Ningguo Duke's residence—it's no ordinary household.

Moreover, this Lord Weiyuan Bo inherited dual estates; perhaps he's at the Rong Mansion today. The Duke's residence has countless gates and vast grounds—delays in message delivery are only natural." The candidate called Xiwén stared blankly at this.

He murmured: "His pomp is truly immense. Yesterday, the Beijing Prince hosted a literary gathering—royal palace or not, it wasn't this slow or cumbersome…"

Brother Brother Yichun smiled: "You insisted on coming to pay respects to Jia Jia Yuzhang—I told you you'd likely not see him. Now you believe me."

Xiwén said: "Though he's a noble with official rank, since he's taking the metropolitan examination, he's our examination cohort.

He writes splendid poetry and is deeply learned—surely he wouldn't be so arrogant as to disdain associating with us common scholars? That would be a disgrace to his dignity."

Brother Yichun laughed: "He's not arrogant about status—I've heard since arriving in Love Shenjing that Lord Weiyuan Bo, though born into a Duke's house, grew up in poverty, a fact known throughout the land, so his nature is reclusive.

I hear he rarely leaves home except for court or office, spending his days indoors, content in solitude.

We've never met him—does a single visiting note compel him to come out?

He's already famous among incoming candidates; these past days, how many have flocked to Xiao's Bookshop on Wenhann Street to view his calligraphy?

If word spreads, how many more will follow suit, arriving with letters? Can he possibly meet them all? In my view, he won't open that door."

…

Bo Jue Mansion, Jia Cong Courtyard.

A serving woman brought several visiting notes into the courtyard and saw Zhi Shao and Qingwen arranging embroidery on the veranda.

The woman was one of Qin Qin Keqing's selections from Jiangnan for Jia Cong—diligent, competent, and sharp-witted.

She knew the girls in the Bo's courtyard were deeply favored, destined to become mistresses; all of the Bo's daily affairs were handled by them.

She smiled: "Ladies, greetings. Several scholar candidates outside have submitted notes requesting an audience with the Bo. Could you please deliver a message to him?"

Qingwen took the notes, glanced at them, pursed her lips slightly, then passed them to Zhi Shao.

Over the years, the maids in the courtyard had learned to read and write under Jia Cong; though Qingwen lacked Zhi Shao's or Zhen Ying Lady Lian's literary depth, she could read and write without issue.

She said in a sharp tone: "Sister Zhi Shao, look—more idle scholar candidates. These past few days, they've come in waves. Truly annoying.

They came to the capital to take the exam, yet they don't study—they just run around visiting people. Don't they feel ashamed?

Cong Sanye has such vast learning and still shuts himself in to read. Do these fools think they study harder than him, wandering about like this?

And their notes' handwriting is sloppy—twisting, crooked, illegible. Worse than mine. Cong Sanye taught me to write, not like this."

Zhi Shao suppressed a laugh: "Save your breath, sharp tongue. They came to pay respects—whether he sees them is Cong Sanye's choice. They're guests, and you still scold them like this?

You've only been writing for a few years—you can't even walk yet and want to run? You can't even write crooked lines like theirs yet. Your mouth is beyond repair."

Zhi Shao told the woman: "Cong Sanye already gave orders: since he's in mourning, he must avoid noise and banquets, and must study for the exam—he refuses all outside visitors.

Tell the overseer at the outer gate to reply accordingly."

The woman added: "Lady, these candidates today seem to have some standing—one of them, Zhou Yingchen, is the Yongzhou Jieyuan of Hangzhou Prefecture…"

Qingwen's expression turned proud: "Look at what you're saying, Auntie. Sister Zhi Shao already said no—how could it be unclear?

A Yongzhou Jieyuan is impressive elsewhere, but here? Our Cong Sanye is the Yongzhou Yongzhou Jieyuan—he's far superior to Hangzhou's Yongzhou Jieyuan…"

Zhi Shao, fearing Qingwen would say something inappropriate and embarrass the messenger, pinched her waist.

Qingwen yelped and fell silent; she knew her tongue was too quick, often careless—Zhi Shao was reminding her.

Zhi Shao smiled: "Even if he's a Yongzhou Jieyuan, it doesn't matter. Cong Sanye refuses visitors out of filial duty. Explain this to them—they're scholars, they'll understand."

Qingwen couldn't help adding: "Cong Sanye is deeply absorbed in reading in his study—he doesn't like being disturbed. Not even us enter lightly…"

Zhi Shao's face flushed slightly; she nearly laughed aloud. Earlier, she had entered the main chamber to fetch embroidery thread for Qingwen—and had seen what was happening in the study.

Cong Sanye was indeed reading—but he was holding Zhen Ying Lady Lian in his arms, asleep…

…

Bo Jue Mansion, West Corner Gate.

Several visiting candidates, upon hearing the reply from the outer courtyard manager, wore looks of disappointment; but since the host had closed his doors citing mourning for his parents, there was no fault to be found.

The empire governs all under heaven through filial piety, and scholars, who revere the teachings of the sages, place filial duty above all else.

The candidate named Xiwen said to his brother Brother Yichun: "Brother Yichun, you're the top scholar of Hangzhou Prefecture—your face isn't even big enough to get us admitted? You can't even get him to see you."

Brother Yichun laughed and replied: "My title as top scholar works elsewhere, but here it's useless—he's also the top scholar of Yongzhou, so we're even."

Since we didn't get to see him, I'll treat everyone to wine at Chunhua Pavilion. After this, I won't be going out much—I'll need to study harder before the spring imperial examination."

…

In Jia Cong's courtyard, Zhi Shao was learning boundary embroidery from Qingwen when Ping'er entered and asked: "Zhi Shao, is Cong Sanye in the courtyard?"

Zhi Shao replied: "Cong Sanye is reading in the study."

Ping'er said: "I have urgent business to discuss with him." She then headed straight for the study.

Zhi Shao thought of Jia Cong cuddling with Zhen Ying Lady Lian; though Zhen Ying Lady Lian, that little maid, usually followed him around and it wasn't unusual, she still felt awkward seeing it.

She hurried forward and said: "Ping'er, you haven't come by in a while—is household business in the Western Mansion especially busy lately?"

Ping'er, hearing Zhi Shao speak, slowed her step and smiled: "Second Mistress is now visibly pregnant—we dare not let her worry about anything anymore, so we've left her to rest."

I've taken over all daily affairs myself. It's busier than last year, but since these are tasks I'm used to, and with Fifth Daughter helping me, we manage fine."

Ping'er and Zhi Shao's clear voices drifted into the study. Jia Cong's expression stiffened slightly. He patted Zhen Ying Lady Lian in his arms and said: "You're so sleepy—go lie down on the couch."

Zhen Ying Lady Lian immediately lifted her head, rubbed her eyes, and blushed: "How did I fall asleep?"

Jia Cong was about to speak, but saw Ping'er had already entered the study, with Zhi Shao following behind.

Jia Cong smiled: "What brings you here, Ping'er?"

Ping'er smiled back: "I've encountered something important. Second Mistress couldn't decide on her own, so she sent me to ask your opinion."

Jia Cong blinked in surprise: "Second Sister has managed the Western Mansion's affairs for years—how could there be something she can't decide?"

Ping'er replied: "This matter occurs only once every three years, not annually. Now that you've inherited the title and estate, and Master and Madam have moved to the Eastern Courtyard to live separately, the household situation is very different from before."

So the way this matter is handled can no longer follow past precedent—that's why Second Mistress is uncertain."

This matter concerns the eldest daughter in the palace. Second Madam wishes to follow last year's precedent and withdraw four thousand taels from the Western Mansion's common funds to handle her affairs.

Although you've inherited the Lady Rongguo title and estate, it's a demotion in rank—the family's hereditary property has decreased by five hundred shi, and annual income has dropped significantly.

Currently, the Lady Rongguo Mansion's total annual income is under twenty thousand taels. We must carefully budget to avoid deficits.

To spend four thousand taels at once is no small sum—so Second Mistress dare not decide lightly and seeks your opinion."

(End of Chapter)