Jingke Inn, private room.
While Song Chuyu wasn’t curious, others were.
The two noble ladies sitting beside her opened the window and leaned out curiously: “Did someone achieve top honors in the imperial examination?”
“He actually became the Number One Scholar!”
“Princess, come look quickly.”
Song Chuyu slowly picked up the handkerchief that had fallen by her feet and placed it leisurely on her lap.
Outside, drums and gongs thundered as celebrations erupted.
“Congratulations to the innkeeper for your discerning eye!”
“Jingke Inn will be renamed Number One Scholar Inn!”
The innkeeper laughed heartily: “I knew Scholar Kang was extraordinary from the start, possessing the noble aura of the Literary Star. Indeed, he succeeded!”
After six years of silence in Shangjing City, the first imperial examination’s Number One Scholar was certainly worthy of celebration.
Kang Rui stood among the crowd, returning greetings with restrained yet dignified composure.
Jiang Zheng, daughter of the Minister of War, unconsciously grabbed Song Chuyu’s hand: “Princess, the Number One Scholar is truly handsome.”
Song Chuyu smiled while pouring herself tea: “Handsome is good.” Of course he was handsome – in those years untouched by time’s wear, his arrogance could coexist with his looks, once captivating her eyes too.
Jiang Zheng shot her a reproachful look: “You didn’t even look before brushing me off.” She turned back to the window and suddenly gasped: “Ah! Be careful.”
It’s happening.
Liu Yafeng exclaimed simultaneously, then sighed with relief, maintaining her graceful demeanor: “Fortunately, nothing happened.”
Jiang Zheng, still shaken, turned around and patted her chest: “That was close. If not for the Number One Scholar, the little girl would have been in danger. The Number One Scholar is so kind – the child was nearly injured.”
Liu Yafeng nodded shyly: “Yes, the Number One Scholar is very kind.”
Song Chuyu smiled. They were oversimplifying matters.
From the moment the good news arrived, his official career had begun.
His actions today, even if initially unintentional, especially when handing the little girl to her parents, were mostly calculated for career advancement. The factions and networks in Shangjing City were numerous and complex, with many evaluating moral character.
“The Number One Scholar seems quite young?” Liu Yafeng murmured softly.
Song Chuyu’s gaze swept over her before indifferently shifting away.
Liu Yafeng blushed deeply: “I didn’t mean it that way…”
Jiang Zheng nodded innocently: “He does look young. Princess, I heard them say the Number One Scholar is named Kang Rui. I think my brother bought one of his paintings. Princess, don’t you think—my brother has great taste?” She finished with a meaningful wink.
Song Chuyu pretended not to understand her implication. She couldn’t form a marriage alliance with the Jiang family: “Yes, the best taste.”
“My family might also have one…” Liu Yafeng’s voice grew even softer.
Song Chuyu pushed the poured tea toward Sister Liu. First love – how familiar. But early next year, Qin Lianxiu would arrive with a child.
Song Chuyu didn’t consider the other woman someone to be trifled with. Sister Liu might not be her match.
Though perhaps she was worrying unnecessarily. Without her own ‘forced marriage’ this time, Qin Lianxiu might not need to compromise at all.
Zhuang Momo lifted the curtain and sighed with relief upon seeing the Princess: “This humble servant greets the Princess and the two young ladies. Princess, the mansion’s carriage has arrived.”
Song Chuyu stood up.
Maids and servants immediately began gathering the Princess’s belongings.
Song Chuyu nodded slowly: “I’ll take my leave first.”
Everyone rose: “We respectfully see off the Princess.”
…
Outside Jingke Inn stood a row of luxurious carriages.
The Imperial Guards cleared the way, forbidding all idlers and pedestrians from passing, creating an overwhelming sense of oppression.
The ornate carriage in the center bore the emblem of Anguo Duke Mansion. Four brown steeds, their hooves treading on white snow, pulled it side by side. A single one of these horses cost the equivalent of a sixth-rank official’s annual salary in the capital, let alone four of them together.
Zhuang Momo respectfully lifted the carriage curtain: “Princess, shall we return to the mansion?”
“To Changting Street.”
“Yes.”
As the carriage slowly departed, pedestrians gradually returned to the center of the road.
…
In the filthy and chaotic western district of the city, Lin Qingyuan suppressed the metallic taste rising in his throat and pressed the burly man into a manure pit, a scornful smile curling his lips: “Sober now?”
The butcher struggled frantically: “Mmph, mmph…”
A young woman dressed in commoner’s clothes stared blankly at the scene, the bruises on her face stark and shocking: “Brother Lin…” She never expected to see him again after all these years, that he would travel thousands of miles to rescue her from dire straits. If only back then…
“Alive or dead?” Lin Qingyuan spoke as if discussing something unrelated to himself, his thin hand pressing tightly against the man’s neck, ready to snap it at any moment.
The burly man struggled even more violently.
The young woman collapsed softly to the ground: “As… Brother Lin decides.”
Crack!
The screams ceased abruptly.
…
Lin Qingyuan knew he was like a rat in a sewer, yet he clung stubbornly to his refusal to accept fate.
As a child, while others dug manure, he crawled through the dog hole of the schoolhouse.
While others plowed fields, he wrote characters in the sand.
Everyone laughed at him for aiming high despite his wretched lot, and he laughed at himself too—a lowly life daring to defy heaven.
But he couldn’t afford to stop. Poisonings, assassinations—too many people wanted him dead. To bring his mother out of this, he couldn’t stop!
Lin Qingyuan twirled a folding fan in his hand, his figure tall and slender, yet he leaned casually against an antique shelf without a care.
Dressed in coarse cloth and a short jacket, it was clear he couldn’t afford anything in this place, yet his tone showed no trace of embarrassment: “This folding fan is too expensive. Sell it to me for less, consider it a good deed.”
What good deed would I be doing with you? The shopkeeper had a headache from the noise: “Five hundred coppers, not a single coin less.” This young man came every day without fail. The shop had never sold anything so cheap. If the young man didn’t seem mentally unstable, he would have been thrown out long ago.
Lin Qingyuan smiled ingratiatingly: “How about three hundred eighty coppers? I’ll take it without another word.”
“You might as well take me instead! Go on, get out of here, stop causing trouble!”
A woman’s voice sounded softly: “Shopkeeper, give it to him for three hundred eighty coppers.”
Lin Qingyuan turned and, through the gaps in the antique shelf, saw the woman standing at the entrance. She wore a long dress of Snow Cloud Silk, her ruqun embroidered with golden threads that shimmered as she moved. The filigree bracelet on her wrist was exquisitely carved, a masterpiece of craftsmanship.
Her fair, pink cheeks were like the finest polished jade, and her eyes outshone the brightest moon.
Lin Qingyuan was momentarily stunned. Even if all the treasures in the room came to life, they couldn’t compare to a fraction of her beauty.
Lin Qingyuan averted his gaze.
The shopkeeper had already stepped forward respectfully: “This humble one pays respects to Anguo County Princess. May the Princess enjoy boundless fortune, longevity, and peace—”
“Have you prepared what I asked for?”
“Your Highness, yes, yes. Please, come upstairs.”
Song Chuyu went upstairs, never once glancing toward where the young man stood.
Lin Qingyuan’s smile had faded. He placed the folding fan back on the antique shelf, his expression calm and detached. Though he didn’t consider himself remarkable, he hadn’t thought he was so transparent as to be unworthy of a second glance.