Chapter 73

Several days later, after traveling hundreds of miles, Zhang Jie and his party returned to Yanggu County.

“Young Master, you’ve returned.”

As soon as they reached the city gate, a servant from the Zhang household rushed up, beaming with joy.

“Yu～”

Wu Song, who was leading the way, recognized the servant and halted his mule.

“Are the old steward and the others well?”

Zhang Jie, riding a nag, asked.

These past few days, Yan Poxi had looked at him with ever hotter eyes, as if she wanted to devour him.

He felt he was barely holding himself back.

To avoid committing a mistake every man would make within days,

Zhang Jie dared not stay inside the carriage anymore and had specifically bought a nag to ride.

“The old steward and the others are waiting for you at home.”

The servant replied with a smile.

Zhang Jie had already informed the old steward Zhang Zhong and others by letter of his journey.

“Young Master, let me guide you.”

The servant walked up to Zhang Jie’s horse and reached to take the reins.

“Mm.”

Zhang Jie nodded and handed the reins to the servant.

The servant took the reins and hurried toward the Zhang household.

“Who is this person? Why such an elaborate entourage?

Even the county magistrate probably doesn’t travel like this.”

A traveling merchant, watching the procession of several carriages and horses,

along with a towering, imposing man leading the way, couldn’t help but marvel.

“That’s Zhang Renjie of Yanggu County—the Jieyuan.”

A local resident, proud to explain to the merchant.

The news that Zhang Jie had passed as Jieyuan had reached Yanggu County when he visited Yuncheng County.

It caused quite a stir in Yanggu County.

Yanggu County hadn’t produced a single juren in several provincial examinations.

Yet this time, they suddenly had a Jieyuan!

“What? He’s the Jieyuan? My apologies, my apologies.”

The merchant bowed respectfully toward the departing carriage.

In Great Song, where the emperor rules jointly with scholar-officials, such a procession for a Jieyuan is no surprise.

“But how could the Jieyuan be so impoverished that his servant rides a mule?”

The merchant, recognizing Wu Song’s mount, was puzzled.

“Oh no, the Zhang household is one of Yanggu County’s most prominent families—

I wouldn’t say half the town, but certainly a whole street belongs to them,” the local replied.

“Oh? That’s strange.

With such wealth, why would they let that strong man ride a mule?”

The merchant pointed to Wu Song’s tall, commanding silhouette, still standing out even dozens of meters away.

“You wouldn’t know this, but that strong man is the Tiger-Slayer!”

The local continued educating the merchant about Yanggu County’s famous figures.

“If he’s the Tiger-Slayer, he should have a fine steed!”

The merchant, who had traveled far and wide, fully agreed with the principle that a hero deserves a fine horse.

“Hey!

Let me tell you—according to my second aunt’s third uncle’s distant cousin who works for the Jieyuan,

when Wu the Strongman first tried riding a horse, he crushed it flat!”

The local leaned close to the merchant’s ear and whispered mysteriously.

“Ah, I see,” the merchant exclaimed in understanding.

Meanwhile, the merchant, newly arrived in Yanggu County and in need of a local guide to open the market,

grabbed the hand of the middle-aged local:

“Brother, you’re so learned—why not join me for a drink and a good chat?”

‘Hey! Didn’t even have to brag to get a free meal.’

The middle-aged local immediately beamed.

Yet a hint of hesitation still crossed his face:

“How could I let you spend?”

“Nonsense—we’ve taken to each other at first sight. Between brothers, why speak of money?”

The merchant still held the man’s hand tightly.

“Since you’re so eager, brother, I won’t refuse.”

Seeing the merchant offer a graceful exit, the middle-aged man readily accepted.

With mutual interest, a pair of fake brothers—bound by Li Zhuang white meat and wine—was born.

Thus were born the fake brothers, mere drinking and eating companions.

At the Zhang household gate, the old steward Zhang Zhong and Zhang Jie’s teacher Li Shi, the scholar, were already waiting anxiously.

“Why hasn’t he arrived yet?”

The old steward was pacing, nearly frantic.

“Don’t worry, Old Steward—Erniu is sharp.

He’s waiting at the gate; he’ll surely meet the Young Master.”

A household manager reassured the anxious old steward.

Li Shi, however, had cultivated great composure and showed no anxiety.

Yet his frequent glances toward the road betrayed his inner excitement.

“The Young Master’s back! The Young Master’s back!”

At that moment, a clamor rang out from the road.

“The Young Master’s here? Light the firecrackers at once!”

The excited old steward ordered the household workers.

The excited old steward said to Zhang’s laborers.

The workers, obeying, pulled out pre-prepared tinder and lit the firecrackers hung beside the gate.

Amid the crackling of firecrackers, Zhang Jie’s figure appeared at the road’s end.

“Young Master! Young Master!”

The Zhang household workers erupted in joy.

“Jieyuan! Jieyuan!”

Neighbors and onlookers burst into loud cheers.

For a moment, the crowd’s noise drowned out even the firecrackers.

Zhang Jie, mounted on his horse, waved repeatedly.

‘No wonder Xiang Yu said: wealth without returning home is like wearing brocade in the dark.’

Zhang Jie, feeling the thrill of returning in glory, felt himself floating with pride.

“Uncle Zhong, Teacher.”

Zhang Jie dismounted at the gate.

“Young Master.”

The old steward was overcome with emotion, joy radiating from him.

“You’ve leapt over the Dragon Gate!”

Li Shi gazed approvingly at Zhang Jie—calm as jade, elegant in bearing.

He was his most cherished disciple, shaped by his own hands!

‘My life’s wish rests entirely on Renjie!’

“Jieyuan! Give us some rewards!”

Someone in the crowd shouted.

On such a joyous day, how could one not ask for a little blessing?

“Jieyuan! Give us some rewards!”

Others in the crowd joined in.

It wasn’t greed—they simply wanted to catch a bit of good fortune.

“Everyone gets something. Everyone gets something.”

"I have them all, I have them all."

The longtime steward, well-prepared, stepped forward.

“Bring them in! Let it begin!”

The steward, his face flushed with joy, gave the order.

“Yes, sir.”

Two laborers obeyed, yanking the red cloths off two objects beside them.

Whoosh~

The cloths fell away, revealing two bamboo baskets, each brimming with Da Guan Tong Bao coins.

The coins bore the unique Slender Gold script inscribed by the current emperor, Huizong.

Whoosh, whoosh~

The steward himself seized two handfuls of copper coins and hurled them into the crowd.

“Mine! Mine!”

“Mine! Mine!”

The crowd erupted into a frenzied scramble.

Fortunately, everyone showed restraint, grabbing only those that had fallen to the ground.

Master Li also joined the coin-dropping with great enthusiasm.

Even Zhang Jie was swept up in the frenzy and personally took part in the coin-throwing.

One had to admit—the feeling of throwing coins was truly delightful!

After dispersing the onlookers, Zhang Jie and the others went to the Zhang family ancestral hall.

Achieving the rank of Jieyuan, a glory to the ancestors, naturally required informing them.

“Father, I’ve at last taken the first step toward fulfilling your wish.”

Zhang Jie knelt before the spirit tablet of his adoptive father, Zhang Dahu, and lit three sticks of incense.

During his lifetime, Zhang Dahu had longed for nothing more than Zhang Jie to pass the imperial exams and become a Jinshi, bringing honor to the family.

“Master, the young master has not disappointed you—he has become Jieyuan in this provincial examination!”

The steward wept bitterly before Zhang Dahu’s spirit tablet.

“Master, the County Magistrate is here to visit.”

No sooner had Zhang Jie finished paying respects to Zhang Dahu than a servant came to report.

‘Wen Bin?’

Zhang Jie thought for a moment—he knew his family’s display had been too grand, drawing the magistrate’s attention.

“I’ll go welcome him,” Zhang Jie nodded.

“Nephew Renjie.”

As Zhang Jie stepped outside the gate, he heard County Magistrate Wen Bin greet him with warm familiarity.

“My humble affairs have disturbed my uncle—I am truly humbled and ashamed.”

Zhang Jie seized the opportunity, hastening forward with a smile.

“Ha! Nephew’s achievement as Jieyuan is a great joy for Yanggu County!”

Wen Bin, dressed in civilian robes like a wealthy squire, stroked his beard and laughed.

He was genuinely delighted.

In the Great Song, county magistrates rotated every three years; he had served in Yanggu County for less than two.

And now he had stumbled upon Zhang Jie—a tremendous blessing.

Yanggu County had not produced a single juren in several consecutive provincial exams.

It had become known throughout Shandong as a place where education had withered.

The evaluations of the previous magistrates had all carried the mark of “failure to promote education.”

Those unfortunate men were said to have been exiled to the Liao frontier or to Qianzhou and other remote regions.

What did Zhang Jie’s Jieyuan victory mean to him?

A major achievement!

Zhang Jie’s sudden rise was a tremendous boon to his official evaluation.

Even if he could not use this achievement to advance further—to become a Zhizhou or Prefect—

a transfer within a year to a richer, more stable county was all but guaranteed.

They say a three-year clean magistrate earns ten thousand taels of silver.

If he went to a wealthy county in the south, wouldn’t he easily net one or two thousand taels in three years?

Wen Bin’s gaze toward Zhang Jie nearly sparkled:

Zhang Jie was his personal god of wealth.