"Cock-a-doodle-doo—"
At the break of dawn, the Li family's rooster flew onto the wall and crowed loudly.
In the small eastern room, the window was covered with a coarse curtain stitched together from fabric scraps. Without even opening his eyes, Li Gou'er stretched his arm out from under the quilt and fumbled around the heated brick bed until he found a small pebble he had picked up from the ground the day before.
Clutching it in his hand, he pushed the window open with his elbow and blindly hurled the pebble at the wall.
The stone hit with a sharp thwack, startling the black-and-white-feathered rooster into squawking and fluttering down into the yard. It paced around, stretching its neck and clucking intermittently.
If left unchecked, the rooster would keep crowing until Aunt Li rushed out with a ladle to shoo it away. Li Gou'er flopped back onto the bed, pulled the thick cotton quilt—bright red and embroidered with peonies by Aunt Li—over his head, and tried to fall back asleep. Just as he was drifting off, the familiar sound of a commotion erupted outside the yard:
"Liu Douhua! You little thief, did you steal my silk flower again?"
"I didn't!"
"Don’t you dare lie! Look at what’s smeared on your lips—that’s clearly my rouge! You little brat, don’t you run! I’ll tear your mouth off! How many times have I told you not to rummage through my things when I’m not home, especially my makeup? Are your ears stuffed with donkey hair, or is your brain full of water? Why can’t you ever listen?"
A cacophony of clattering followed—perhaps a basket being knocked over in the Liu family’s yard.
"Waaah! Mama, save me! Big Sister’s trying to kill me! Dad! Dad—"
"Call the Jade Emperor himself, and it won’t save you!"
Li Gou'er sat up, his hair a tangled mess, his eyes bleary as he clutched the "wealth and prosperity" quilt. He turned dazedly toward the window, listening to Liu Douhua’s shrieks as her elder sister chased her, the helpless scolding of Uncle and Aunt Liu, and rubbed his eyes before letting out a massive yawn.
Now fully awake, he dragged himself out of bed and dressed sluggishly.
Once ready, he pushed open the door to fetch water for washing up. Toothbrush in mouth, he went to the kitchen to light the stove, heating water for the day in the attached boiler.
His parents were away on a long trip and had entrusted him to Sister Shen’s care.
Sister Shen had invited him to stay with her family and share a room with Chen Chuan, but he preferred to remain at home. There were chickens, ducks, and geese to feed—his mother’s parting instructions had revolved mostly around tending the stove, heating the bed, and feeding the poultry.
Once the water was warm, he mixed it to wash his face. Feeling more alert, he frugally reused the water to mix bran, wheat husks, chopped greens, and unhulled grains for the chickens and ducks.
His mother had said that feeding them whole grains every few days kept them laying eggs.
As soon as Li Gou'er stepped into the yard with the basin, the poultry swarmed him, pecking at his shoes. He shooed them with his foot while bending to pour the feed into the bamboo trough.
After refilling the ducks’ water, he was done just as Sister Xiang’s voice rang out from the lane: "Gou'er! Come eat!"
"Coming!" he shouted back, quickly rinsing his hands before heading out to the Shen household.
Just as he stepped outside, the Liu family’s gate burst open with a bang, slamming against the wall. Liu Douhua darted out like a rat startled by firecrackers, her elder sister—a fierce-eyed beauty—hot on her heels: "You little thief, don’t you dare come back!"
Li Gou'er pressed himself against the wall, nodding nervously as he passed the furious girl. "Good morning, Sister Doukou! Long time no see—you’re back from Tongbao County?"
"Oh, it’s you, Gou'er. Yes, I’m back." Liu Doukou gave him a brief glance before dismissing him. "Off to the Shen family? Go on."
"Right, I’ll be going then." He forced a smile and scurried into the Shen household.
The Shen family’s yard was already bustling with life.
Steaming smoke rose from the kitchen roof, as if the clouds themselves were born from household stoves. Thunder and Chase sniffed at his pants as he bent down to rub Thunder’s thick, glossy neck and scratch behind his ears. "Good boy, Thunder."
Turning, he saw Chase wagging his tail expectantly. Hesitating, Li Gou'er tugged his sleeve over his hand and quickly patted the dog’s head through the fabric. "Good boy, Chase too."
Having paid the toll of head pats, he passed the twin canine sentries. Inside, Youyu had arrived earlier, having just finished filling the large water vats to the brim. The morning light shimmered on their surfaces.
As she straightened up, Qilin the cat balanced along the narrow windowsill before leaping onto the vat’s edge—no wider than two fingers—and began lapping up the water under everyone’s astonished gaze.
Youyu flapped her hands in distress. "Don’t drink that! That’s cooking water—we can’t have cat hair in it!"
Ji Brother rushed over to scoop up the feline. "You have your own bowl, don’t you? Ninth Brother gave you all those nice cups—why must you drink from the vat?"
Qilin meowed indignantly from the crook of his arm.
As they passed the corridor, Sister Xiang was rinsing her mouth vigorously after brushing her teeth, her face twisted in disgust. She shuddered, checked the bitter medicinal tooth powder, and wailed, "Sister! This stuff is so bitter—when will we finish it?"
"The apothecary said it prevents cavities, but who knew it’d taste this awful?" Shen Miao emerged from the kitchen with warm milk, laughing at her sister’s dramatics. Ever since buying this tooth powder, the whole family brushed their teeth with pained expressions, as if their toothbrushes were stinging them. "Fine, tomorrow we’ll switch to mint."
"Never mind, let’s finish this jar first—it wasn’t cheap." Sister Xiang sighed, putting the container back before bravely smacking her lips. "A few more rinses, and the taste’ll fade… Oh, Gou'er, you’re here!"
Li Gou'er grinned and strode over, noticing her damp forehead. "You’re up early—just finished staff practice?"
Sister Xiang nodded, wiping her sweaty bangs with a sleeve. "Ninth Brother woke me. Now that it’s warmer and dawn comes sooner, Chen Chuan and I run laps around the city with him."
The difference was, after his morning run, Chen Chuan went straight to Xingguo Temple to find Lawyer Deng. Nowadays, he often had breakfast with Lawyer Deng and spent less time at home—whether coming in or going out, he was always reciting legal texts, diligent beyond measure. Sister Xiang understood perfectly well that he was eager to grow up quickly and master more laws, not just to find his parents but also driven by a fierce determination to see those child-snatching scoundrels hanged at the execution grounds.
After her own run around the city, Sister Xiang still had to practice martial arts. She had been training in stance work, breathing exercises, and running for two months now, and upon returning home, she would move on to staff techniques—she had already learned the third move.
"You go running without eating breakfast?" Li Gou'er asked, astonished.
"Yep," Sister Xiang replied. At first, she had found it exhausting, her stomach growling with hunger. But Ninth Brother seemed to have gauged her stamina perfectly—starting with just two blocks, he gradually increased the distance, and only recently had she begun running half a circuit. Now, she had grown accustomed to it, waking up on her own at the same time every day without needing anyone to urge her.
Seeing the admiration on Li Gou'er's face, Sister Xiang puffed out her chest proudly. "That’s how it is. Ninth Brother says running builds stamina, endurance, and breath control. You wash your face, drink a cup of sugar-salt water, and head out. Eating before running can give you a stomachache."
Li Gou'er didn’t fully understand, but he couldn’t help noticing how much Sister Xiang had changed since starting martial arts. She had grown taller, her face less round and chubby, now shaped like a delicate oval. Her skin glowed, flushed with health, radiating vitality.
The weather wasn’t even that warm yet—Li Gou'er was still sleeping on a heated kang and wearing a padded coat—but Sister Xiang had already switched to a lined short jacket with just a single thin shirt underneath, claiming she was too hot.
As the weather warmed, the Shen family set up their table in the courtyard again. Shen Miao placed a jug of milk and cups on the table before turning to check on the bread baking in the earthen oven. "Gou'er, Sister Xiang, sit and drink your milk first. Gou'er still has to go to school later—don’t dawdle."
Li Gou'er sat down beside Sister Xiang, eyeing the steaming milk eagerly. It was only after coming to the Shen household that he had tasted milk at all.
"Here, this one’s for you—the eggplant cup." Sister Xiang poured him a serving.
Li Gou'er curiously examined the large ceramic cup from the Shen family, warm to the touch from the hot milk inside. The Shen household’s cups were deep and generously sized, each with a single handle, their exteriors meticulously decorated with patterns resembling fruits and vegetables—white cabbage, eggplant, apple, cherry—reserved for guests.
The one in Li Gou'er’s hands was the purple eggplant cup, its round belly and lid topped with a lifelike stem and leaf, resembling a real eggplant.
Sister Xiang’s cup was different. She took a sip of milk, noticing Li Gou'er’s gaze, and grinned as she shook her own cup. "Fun, right? It was my sister’s idea. When she commissioned the ceramic workshop to make meal trays, she had to order clay in advance—five or six bundles. After the trays were done, there was half a bundle left, so she asked the potter to carve a set of cups based on Ninth Brother’s drawings. Can you guess who’s on mine?"
Li Gou'er had already figured it out. Her white clay cup bore the image of a big black dog with its tongue lolling out in a goofy grin. "That’s Thunderbolt!"
"Exactly! Ninth Brother drew all of them, and the potter carved them stroke by stroke before painting them. Everyone in our family has one with a different animal. My sister and Ninth Brother have Qilin—one sleeping, the other chasing butterflies. Ji Brother’s is a donkey wearing a hat, Youyu’s is a little white rooster, Tao’s is an ox, Tang Er and Fu Xing’s are speckled and yellow hens… Poor Chen Chuan—when the cups arrived, he was still with Lawyer Deng. By the time he got back, everyone else had picked theirs, leaving him with the wide-mouthed Windchaser."
Li Gou'er burst out laughing, imagining Chen Chuan drinking from such a cup—wouldn’t he always feel like the water tasted odd?
Sister Xiang, recalling the day the cups were distributed, couldn’t help mimicking the scene for Li Gou'er. "He tried bargaining with Youyu to swap, even offering her a whole box of candies he’d saved up. But Youyu’s no fool—she clutched her cup, backing away going ‘no no no no.’ I nearly died laughing."
Shen Miao, crouched by the earthen oven, shook her head in amusement at their teasing of Chen Chuan. After a while, she pulled on thick cotton gloves, opened the oven door, and used tongs to pull out the metal baking tray. Instantly, the aroma of four rows of golden-brown bread rolls—wheat, garlic, and scallion—filled the air.
Today’s breakfast was no-knead toast with milk.
Milk toast was the simplest kind of bread. Mix sifted flour with sugar, yeast, eggs, butter, and milk, stir it all together, let the dough rest for half an hour, and it was ready.
With so many mouths to feed, Shen Miao made a large batch, dividing it into four portions. After rolling them out, she sprinkled on toppings—sweet red beans, crushed peanuts, raisins, matcha powder, or pork floss—whatever they fancied that day.
Once filled, she rolled them up, repeated the rolling process twice more, let them rise another half-hour, then into the oven they went.
No need for tedious kneading or complicated steps.
This time, Shen Miao had made savory toast: two batches of garlic butter and two of scallion-pork floss. Ever since they got Twelve Maid (a cow), producing butter and milk, Shen Miao no longer held back when baking. Whenever she tired of traditional breakfasts, she’d whip up some bread for variety.
Sister Xiang and Ji Brother couldn’t stop praising the "big baked buns." The last time Chen Chuan brought one to Lawyer Deng, the man showed up at Shen’s that very evening, leaving money and begging Shen Miao to bake two more the next day—for his kids at home.
The garlic toast required an extra step—garlic butter paste. Simple enough: butter, minced garlic, a pinch of salt, and a sprinkle of catnip (since Song Dynasty lacked parsley, catnip’s similar fragrance worked just as well).
The scallion-pork floss version was even easier—just roll the fillings right into the dough.
After baking in the preheated oven for half an hour, out came the toast, its surface a buttery golden brown. Sliced open, the layers pulled apart in delicate strands. Thanks to the milk and butter, the texture was incredibly soft, studded with garlic, pork floss, and scallions—a single bite, warm and fresh, was pure bliss.
Shen Miao also fried eggs to tuck inside the sliced toast, turning them into sandwiches.
As she cut the bread, Li Gou'er watched, swallowing hard in anticipation.
During his stay at the Shen household these past few days, Li Gou'er had come to realize just how delicious three meals a day could be. Aunt Li, who was frugal by nature, rarely took him out to eat, preferring to cook at home. Though her culinary skills weren’t bad—she even had a few signature dishes—compared to Shen Miao’s cooking… Li Gou'er dared not say it aloud, but in his heart, he simply couldn’t side with his own mother.
Apart from home-cooked meals, the rest of his time was spent confined to the private school, where he ate whatever the teacher’s family prepared, leaving little opportunity to dine out.
Once, after helping Shen Miao with a task, he had tasted the grilled fish she brought over—a flavor he still couldn’t forget. Later, when his mother started raising ducks for Shen Miao, their home often received roasted ducks from her. Those ducks were, without a doubt, the best Li Gou'er had ever eaten in his life.
So he already knew Shen Miao’s cooking was exceptional, but he hadn’t expected every single meal to be this delightful. And not all these delicious dishes were sold in her shop. Take these creatively crafted grilled buns, for instance—they weren’t available in the store, let alone anywhere else.
No wonder Shen Miao’s business was thriving. With skills like hers, who wouldn’t crave more after just one bite?
"What flavor would you like, Gou'er?" Shen Miao asked.
"Thank you, Sister Shen. I’d like the pork floss one," Li Gou'er replied, his eyes lighting up at the mention of pork floss—he adored it.
Shen Miao sliced two pieces of pork floss toast for him, added a fried egg, wrapped it in oiled paper, and handed it over. "It’s still a bit hot, so be careful."
Li Gou'er thanked her again and took the toast.
The bread was warm and soft, yielding under his grip, leaving finger marks where he held it. He blew on it, then took a big bite.
The toast was pillowy, like sinking his teeth into cotton. Then, the soft bread gave way to the savory pork floss and rich scallion flavor, all bursting in his mouth at once.
Li Gou'er’s cheeks puffed up like stuffed dumplings as he chewed, mumbling through a full mouth, "So good. This is amazing—grilled buns are way better than steamed ones." He swallowed quickly and took another bite, his lips and fingers soon glistening with oil and crumbs.
In just a few bites, half the toast vanished into his stomach.
Sister Xiang, clever as ever, had gone for a mix—one slice garlic-flavored, the other scallion, with an egg in between. She held it in her hands, eating with such contentment that her eyes narrowed into happy slits.
The courtyard was filled with the aroma of wheat, so enticing that even Qilin couldn’t resist jumping onto the table, eyeing the remaining toast with twitching paws.
Shen Miao didn’t notice. She had already cut two thick slices for Youyu, who stood by the water vat, her eyes sparkling in anticipation. When Shen Miao handed her the bread, Youyu grinned back foolishly. Compared to when she first arrived at the Shen household, she looked much more at ease now, not a trace of fear left in her expression.
She was carefree, greeting everyone with a smile. On slow days, Shen Miao would often find her squatting in the courtyard, watching a line of ants march by—a sight that never failed to warm her heart and bring a smile to her face.
"Eat up. And have some milk too. You work hard—you need the nourishment," Shen Miao said, pouring her a cup. "Drink it all. Tomorrow, I’ll make your favorite lamb pancakes."
At the mention of lamb pancakes, Youyu nodded eagerly, like a pestle pounding garlic. She loved meat. Earlier in the year, when Ji Brother returned for spring break, he had stopped by Nanxun Gate on his way back and bought a stack of lamb pancakes for everyone. Youyu still remembered the taste.
Just as Ji Brother finished washing up, he spotted Qilin attempting a stealthy snack theft. He scooped the cat off the table, playfully shaking its paws. "Weren’t you just fed, Qilin? How are you hungry again, you greedy little glutton?"
"Meow!" Qilin protested, swatting Ji Brother with a sheathed paw before hopping down indignantly, its fluffy tail flicking as it strutted away.
"Can it actually understand me?" Ji Brother muttered, shaking his head in bewilderment before turning to Shen Miao, who was busy slicing bread. "Sister, I’ll have the pork floss one too."
He discreetly swallowed a mouthful of saliva.
"Alright. I’ll bake two more for you to take to the academy," Shen Miao said deftly, then asked, "Are you sure you don’t want Tang Er to escort you?"
Ji Brother wolfed down his food, too busy savoring the taste to reply immediately. He nodded hastily. "Meng Honghe offered me a ride. His family just got a new mule—it can handle both our luggage. His parents will pick me up this afternoon."
Since the family’s donkey and ox were needed for Shen Miao’s deliveries, Ji Brother didn’t want to trouble her. Luckily, his dormmate Meng Honghe had dropped by Shen’s Eatery for noodles yesterday and enthusiastically invited him to share the ride. They’d agreed to head to the academy together.
Thinking of how Meng Honghe had asked about his essay progress, Ji Brother felt a wave of relief—thank goodness for Ninth Brother at home. He’d managed to finish all his assignments yesterday and could finally relax today.
"Good. Make sure to thank him properly. I’ll bake an extra one for you to share with your dormmates," Shen Miao said before heading back to the kitchen to knead more dough. On her way, she called out to Fu Xing, busy roasting ducks, Tang Er prepping ingredients, and Tao, who was attending to customers up front, reminding them to take a break and eat.
Lately, Tang Er’s sweet porridge and radish-stuffed pancakes had improved remarkably—perhaps from practice. They’d become so popular that people came early in the morning just for them. The radish pancakes were especially loved by children, who often lined up at the food cart, coins in hand, clamoring for a taste.
"Ji Brother, once you’re done eating, go check on Ninth Brother and Yan Shu at West Lane. Tell them to come for breakfast," Shen Miao instructed gently. Earlier, after escorting Sister Xiang back, the two had returned to their own place to bathe and hadn’t come over yet.
With that, she lifted her skirt slightly and hurried into the kitchen to knead the dough.
Li Gou'er watched Shen Miao’s tall, slender figure disappear, then lowered his voice to gossip about Liu Douhua getting scolded by her sister. "Who knew Sister Doukou would come back? Liu Douhua’s easy days are over now."
Sister Xiang, who had never met Liu Doukou, took a sip of milk and asked curiously, "Liu Douhua has a sister? How come I didn’t know? She never mentioned her, and I’ve never seen her around."
"You must’ve forgotten! But honestly, I’ve only seen Sister Doukou a few times myself. She grew up in the countryside with Granny Liu," Li Gou'er said, his voice hushed with the air of someone sharing a secret. Thanks to his well-informed mother, he knew all sorts of things. "Don’t tell anyone, but my mom says Granny Liu is a real piece of work. She acts all sweet in public, but behind closed doors, she torments her daughter-in-law. She kept Sister Doukou with her on purpose—just to make her mom suffer the pain of separation and keep her under control."
Sister Xiang’s jaw dropped. "What? That’s so cruel to Sister Doukou!"
"Indeed, so Aunt Liu dotes on Sister Liu Doukou. She rarely comes back, yet the Liu family always keeps her room ready. Whenever she returns for a few days, all the best things in the house are given to her first, leaving Liu Douhua to wait her turn. Since you only came back last April, you wouldn’t know about this. Sister Doukou usually returns after the New Year and stays for a short while before leaving again."
Sister Xiang, being closer to Liu Douhua, naturally sided with her: "So the commotion this morning was because Douhua got beaten… Thankfully, my elder sister has a gentle temper and doesn’t hit people."
"Also, my mother said the Liu family spent all their savings this year to buy a shop in the outer city for Eldest Brother Liu. Now Sister Doukou’s dowry is delayed again. Even though she’s already betrothed, at this rate, she probably won’t marry until she’s well past twenty. No wonder she’s been in such a bad mood since coming back." Li Gou'er, now full, let out a satisfied burp.
Sister Xiang, still too young to grasp the complexities, looked at Li Gou'er with admiration. "Gou'er, how do you know so much about everything?"
"My mother told me," Li Gou'er replied sheepishly, scratching his head.
Shen Miao stepped out to fetch water and overheard the two children earnestly discussing these family matters. She couldn’t help but find it amusing.
Truly, gossip is human nature.
Just as she was about to enter the kitchen, Tao came running over in a hurry. "Madam, that Master Tang is here again!"
Hearing this, Shen Miao quickly hurried over and, sure enough, saw Cui Wan Niang standing in the shop, gazing up at the paintings on the wall but not sitting down. Shen Miao invited her in to rest and have a bite to eat, but Cui Wan Niang turned with a faint smile and said, "No need. I’m about to leave. Here, take this."
She pulled a cloth bundle from her sleeve and, as Shen Miao drew closer, whispered in her ear, "Inside is a six-hundred-kuai banknote—your share of last year’s profits from the noodle workshop. Keep it safe. Don’t let others see. Open it only when you’re back in your room."
Shen Miao nodded eagerly and swiftly tucked it into her robes.
Cui Wan Niang chuckled at her quick, secretive movements, finally at ease. Holding her horse’s reins, she bid farewell. "Then I’ll be off. If anything comes up with the workshop, I’ll send word. Madam Shen, may your business flourish in the new year… Until we meet again."
Standing against the light, Cui Wan Niang’s silhouette seemed unexpectedly lonely. For some reason, Shen Miao felt a pang of sadness and stepped forward to embrace her. "Madam Cui, take care on your journey."
The warmth of the hug softened Cui Wan Niang’s heart. She froze for a moment before gently patting Shen Miao’s back. "Thank you. I’ll go now."
With that, she turned and strode out of the shop, mounting her horse with practiced ease before riding off in a cloud of dust.
Shen Miao stood at the shop entrance, watching until Cui Wan Niang crossed the bridge and disappeared from sight. When she finally turned back, she nearly jumped in surprise.
Xie Qi stood at the doorway connecting the back hall to the front shop, his hair still damp and only half-tied, strands clinging to his cheeks and shoulders. Leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, he gazed at Shen Miao with an amused smile, having silently observed her for who knew how long.
"You startled me! Why didn’t you say anything?" Shen Miao shot him a look.
Xie Qi shrugged innocently. "Ji Brother called me here."
Not in the mood to banter, Shen Miao—still clutching the six hundred kuai—was eager to return to her room and secretly examine the banknote, then figure out which bank to exchange it at.
"Go eat before it gets cold," she said, stepping forward to grip his arm and steer him toward the courtyard. As she pushed him along, she nagged, "Why didn’t you dry your hair properly? Go warm yourself by the kang later—don’t go out in the wind with wet hair."
Despite his tall stature, Xie Qi let himself be pushed around without resistance, his eyes crinkling with a smile as gentle as a spring breeze. "Alright," he agreed obediently.
How wonderful, he thought.
Having endured suffering and risen again, Sister Cui now seemed to be doing well. That was enough.
He pretended not to recognize her.
Well, he shouldn’t have known "Master Tang" in the first place.
Shen Miao plopped Ninth Brother onto a stool, handed him two slices of toast with egg, and had Tang Er pour him a bowl of soup—she remembered he didn’t like plain milk.
Under the tree, Xie Qi sat with warm, fragrant food in his hands, watching the lively bustle of Madam Shen. The wind whispered softly, and the eaves’ wind chimes tinkled.
Content, he lowered his gaze and took a bite of the scallion-flavored roasted bun.
Mmm, delicious.
In the inner palace, at Funing Hall, Zhao Boyun held a roasted duck pancake roll as he bent over Xie Qi’s examination paper.
Xie Qi’s paper, two feet and seven inches long, lay perfectly flat on the imperial desk.
Regardless of the content, the calligraphy alone left Zhao Boyun in awe—over a thousand characters, all in neat, uniform small regular script, written with precision and strength, without a single correction or smudge.
It could’ve been used directly as a printing block.
Even Meng Qingyuan’s handwriting, though ranked second in the imperial exams, paled in comparison. His script was clear and tidy, but rigid and lifeless, clearly practiced solely for the exams.
What made Xie Qi exceptional was that his writing was not only beautiful but also brimming with character—even in small script, his strokes carried an unmistakable elegance.
As for the essay itself, Zhao Boyun found himself growing parched from reading it.
At first glance, Xie Qi’s writing lacked flowery phrases or dazzling allusions. He seemed to narrate plainly, yet his words flowed like a mighty river, vast and unimpeded. He didn’t forcefully argue his points but effortlessly conveyed his meaning, like a dagger piercing through darkness to let in a flood of light.
Zhao Boyun read it over and over.
The provincial exam was merely the first step in the imperial examinations, so the topic was simple: the final question quoted the Analects—"The noble person studies to attain the Way."
Yet Xie Qi had written the answer Zhao Boyun sought: Learning must be purposeful and practical, not pursued blindly. Once knowledge is gained, it must be put into action, carrying the resolve to "travel the four directions, year after year, day after day."
This was a line from Han Yu’s poetry.
To apply what one learns, neither lost in empty dreams nor chasing hollow fame, but holding fast to truth and never giving up.
Damn it, it was too well-written. Zhao Boyun cursed inwardly as he viciously chewed his duck. He had to admit—ranking Xie Qi as the top scholar of the first rank was wholly deserved.
The gap between noble families and common scholars lay in these papers, in their vastly different perspectives and mindsets. Sitting on his throne, Zhao Boyun gazed at the pile of exam papers and sighed deeply.
He had established Yong Academy so that children of minor officials and common families could receive the same education as those of noble houses. He expanded the exams to give them more opportunities. He confiscated estates to clear away the entrenched, disobedient aristocratic families blocking their path.
Yet progress could not be achieved overnight.
Zhao Boyun’s face was dark and tense, his plump features rigid. After sitting in brooding silence for a moment, he suddenly stood up with a start, resolved to channel his frustration into appetite—he would head to the side hall for roast duck. These matters couldn’t be rushed; time was still needed.
Fortunately, he was young. He could afford to wait. One day, his court would surely be filled with talented commoners who could surpass the noble families, their abilities second to none, capable of aiding him in upholding the empire.
But just as he took his first step, Liang Qian hurried in from outside the hall, a wax-sealed scroll tucked in his sleeve. "Your Majesty," he said urgently, "a censor has submitted a secret memorial accusing the Marquis of Lejiang of multiple unlawful acts."
