Li Jin watched as the monk placed two more pieces into the tray…
Nanny Chen adored Lu Runrun, treasuring her like a pearl, and believed everyone in the world should feel the same way. Lu Runrun, however, did not share this sentiment.
She was self-aware and did not indulge in idle fantasies. "Even if I truly arranged a matrilocal marriage with a scholar and supported him through the Imperial Examination System to become an official, what good would it do? Aren’t there plenty of stories about betrayal and abandoning one’s humble spouse? What if I encountered someone who reluctantly agreed to a matrilocal marriage when he was down and out, secretly resentful, just waiting for success to take revenge on me?"
Seeing Nanny Chen’s expression grow increasingly displeased, Lu Runrun awkwardly avoided eye contact, her voice softening as she muttered, "Where in the world would I find so many devoted and willing scholars for a matrilocal marriage?"
Nanny Chen couldn’t bring herself to scold her, only gripping her wrist and whispering a reminder not to speak recklessly in the temple.
Words spoken in temples had a way of coming true.
"Li Jin? Li Jin?"
Someone was shouting loudly, accompanied by incessant, forceful knocking on the door, causing the poorly maintained, loosely shut door to rattle and seemingly shed dust.
After a long while, slow footsteps finally sounded from inside the room.
"Ahem." The door opened to reveal a young man draped in an outer coat. His face was pale, tinged with weariness, and his body was thin from prolonged illness, his fingers as slender as bamboo joints. Yet, there was no trace of listlessness or dullness in his expression—his eyes were dark and penetrating, sharp and cold.
As the door opened, the wind rushed in, lifting the hem of his coat and accentuating his frail, wind-battered stance.
He clutched the draped coat with one hand while pressing a fist to his lips, suppressing his voice but still coughing repeatedly.
"Brother Xu, what brings you here?" His voice carried the hoarseness of illness, yet it remained pleasant to the ear, like the clear, crisp sound of jade.
The man addressed as Brother Xu was the complete opposite in appearance. He wore a striking peacock-blue long beizi, a deer leather belt around his waist, no xiashang but long trousers instead, with the cuffs embroidered with a full scene of the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove drinking wine. Even the soft futou on his head was adorned with jade. He always wore a wide grin, his lips upturned as if in perpetual good spirits, radiating energy and vitality.
The sickly young man, Li Jin, had already discreetly taken in Xu Cheng’s appearance before he even spoke.
Without a word, he could tell that Xu Cheng’s attire suggested he was preparing to play cuju with friends, but the clean edges of his shoes indicated he had come straight over before heading out. Li Jin and Xu Cheng were not close—they were merely fellow townsfolk who recognized each other by sight. What could possibly bring him here?
As the wind blew, Li Jin coughed a few more times, all the while calmly pondering the purpose of Xu Cheng’s visit.
Xu Cheng wasted no time on pleasantries. He retrieved a letter from his sleeve and handed it directly to Li Jin. "Here, a letter from your family, tucked inside the package my father sent."
"From my family?" Li Jin repeated, seeking confirmation.
"Yes," Xu Cheng replied candidly. "Of course it’s from your family. Why would my family send you a letter? My father wrote in his letter that your family sought out my home and entrusted us to forward this letter to you."
Xu Cheng clapped Li Jin on the shoulder and generously said, “We’re from the same hometown, traveling far to the capital of Bianjing for the examinations—it’s only right that we support each other. Don’t be ashamed that your family didn’t send money for postage. Alright, I’ve delivered the letter to you, so I won’t disturb you further. I’ve made plans to play cuju outside the city.”
Hearing this, Li Jin stared at the letter for a moment, then looked up at Xu Cheng and laughed, offering a straightforward thank-you.
Xu Cheng, walking away with his back to him, casually waved a hand in response to his gratitude, carefree and unrestrained.
Li Jin looked at the letter in his hand, coughed lightly behind his hand, his figure still appearing frail even within the cramped room. He walked inside, sat down at the desk, and opened the letter. Though he was not familiar with the sender and their encounters had always been tense, he recognized the handwriting at a glance.
It was from his father, who practiced Jiansi (marriage to continue two family lines).
Li Jin lowered his gaze to read further, and the more he read, the more he found himself laughing. Finally, he crumpled the letter into a ball and tossed it into the charcoal brazier.
Spring was just about to pass, but the monastery remained cool and serene, still carrying a chill. Moreover, since he had fallen ill, he had been moved to the highest and most remote wing at the back, where sunlight could not reach the windows. The room was damp and dim, with blackened corners and even moss growing in places—cold enough to freeze water into ice.
During the coldest hours of the night, he had no choice but to light charcoal for two hours.
By morning, the charcoal brazier no longer emitted warmth, but the embers still retained residual heat. The letter paper, placed atop the ashen-white charcoal remnants, soon emitted a wisp of smoke. Charred rings gradually spread across it until flames flickered to life.
Li Jin sat on a simple bamboo stool and let out a cold laugh.
No wonder.
A letter sent from thousands of miles away.
It turned out to be nothing but a reprimand.
The letter firmly blamed him for the absurd incident of his cousin—the son born to the other branch of the Jiansi arrangement—visiting a brothel, accusing him of deliberately having a friend lure the cousin and causing his “good cousin” to fail the Fajie Examination.
It was beyond ridiculous.
No doubt, his “good cousin” had neglected his studies, failed the Fajie Examination, and, fearing reprimand from the family, knew that the family was at odds with him and that he was far away in Jingzhou. Thus, the cousin found an excuse to shift the blame onto him. Should he praise his cousin for quick thinking? Though the matter was disgraceful, it had indeed worked.
The smile on Li Jin’s face deepened, tinged with mockery. Despite his sickly appearance, this smile made him look even more refined and handsome.
But gradually, the smile faded from his face, replaced by calm.
Though he disliked his biological father’s family, the phrase “a letter from home” was something he had not heard in a long time. And being ill, it stirred his heartstrings, evoking long-buried feelings of longing.
Since his mother’s passing, he had never heard those four words again.
Nor had anyone shown him any concern.
Perhaps stirred by emotion, he began to cough violently, his chest aching with each convulsion. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes, though his expression remained impassive.
He closed his eyes, hiding the tears as well as the longing and weariness within.
Even while ill, he was not like that renowned talent from Meizhou, who had won the emperor’s favor to the extent of delaying the Provincial Examination for him. If Li Jin were to die from illness, he would simply be dead—his mother’s grievances left unvoiced, his own ambitions unrealized.
Staying alive, along with the modest talent he possessed, was all the capital he had left.
Li Jin curled his stiff, pale, frozen fingers, trembling slightly, and continued to turn the pages of his book, focusing intently as he read on.
To prevent the cold wind from carrying away the last remnants of warmth inside the room, the window was closed, making the interior even dimmer. He had to hold the book higher, relying on the beam of light filtering through the paper window to make out the characters on the page.
Reading like this was not easy, he thought. He ought to purchase more lamp oil.
But now, he didn’t have much money left. Although staying at the temple didn’t require lodging fees, the two daily meals still cost extra. Still, it was much cheaper than outside—only eight Wen per day.
To attend the Provincial Examination in Bianjing, he had started saving money very early. Originally, he had enough, but a sudden severe illness forced him to hire a doctor and purchase medicine, as well as pay someone to brew the medicine for him. Financially strained, he could only try every means to save, for when the Provincial Examination came, expenses would be many. Even desks and chairs had to be provided by the candidates themselves, so he needed to set aside enough money.
Li Jin pondered, meticulously calculating every detail in his mind, leaving nothing out.
Due to the exclusion from the family his biological father had married into to continue two family lines, Li Jin’s mother, burdened with melancholy, passed away early. He had to shoulder heavy responsibilities from a young age, finding ways to feed and clothe himself, fund his own studies, and deal with the occasional malicious schemes from that family. Thus, he developed the habit of planning and preparing for everything in advance, acting with meticulous care and leaving no gaps.
Though weary, he had thought everything through clearly.
He settled back into his reading.
After an unknown length of time, there was another knock at the door, but this time much lighter and more rhythmic.
"Benefactor? Is the benefactor inside?"
It seemed to be the monk delivering the meal.
Li Jin was still seriously ill and, after sitting for a long time, lacked the strength to rise. He had to grip the edge of the table tightly, using it to support himself as he stood up.
He walked slowly, his hands trembling slightly as he opened the door, yet he kept his back straight throughout, never neglecting his composure even in his weakened state. His face pale, he pressed his colorless lips together, nodded to the monk, and forced a faint smile. "Thank you for your trouble, Master."
The monk was very courteous to the Candidates lodging at the temple, saying it was no trouble at all. He then took two plain steamed buns from the basket he was carrying and ladled a bowl of thin porridge for Li Jin.
Li Jin initially accepted the plate with the plain steamed buns, thanked the monk, and turned to go inside, but was stopped.
"Benefactor, please wait, there’s more. Today is the fifteenth, and many devotees have offered food. The temple has set some aside for the lodging benefactors."
Li Jin watched as the monk placed two more pastries on the plate. Recognizing their shape, he couldn’t help but pause, murmuring softly, "They’re pine flower cakes."
Author's Note:
Scene transition reveals the answer.