Xu Yue felt not an ounce of sympathy for Hao Ge’er. Beyond the conflict of interests between them, this so-called cousin had always been malicious toward her existence.
Her former self had been a girl, unloved and neglected—had Hao Ge’er ever shown her even a shred of compassion? When that three-year-old cousin was pushed into a winter lake, he forbade anyone from rescuing her, leading to the original body being invaded by coldness and nearly losing her life.
Afterward, under the pretext that she had brought misfortune upon Hao Ge’er, her stepmother sent her away with a single bundle to the unfamiliar home of a prefect, where she was to rely on a grandaunt who served as a concubine.
The original body’s death in difficult childbirth was also partly due to that fall into the lake. Women fear cold-induced diseases the most, and the winter lake water was bitterly cold.
Now, reborn as Xu Yue, she appeared to be the only son of the main branch, doted upon by Landlord Xu with boundless affection. Hao Ge’er’s interests had been greatly encroached upon.
Children are actually the most perceptive; Hao Ge’er instinctively disliked and even rejected his “cousin.”
Compounded by the constant complaints and teachings from his mother, the Second Madame—such as how things would be better for him as the eldest grandson if Xu Yue were gone—Hao Ge’er’s resentment grew.
If not for Xu Yue’s alertness, she would have been injured by Hao Ge’er on several occasions.
Meanwhile, after hearing the accounts of several servants, Landlord Xu’s face darkened with deep disappointment. Still, he gently patted Yue Ge’er’s back.
Humans are not made of wood or grass—how could they be without emotions? Though he had initially raised Yue Ge’er to elevate the Xu family’s status, watching the infant grow day by day had changed him.
Moreover, because of the secret of Yue Ge’er’s identity, which couldn’t be revealed, Landlord Xu had raised the child personally, without delegating the task to others.
He had been deeply concerned with every move she made. Raising an infant was no easy feat: for instance, when Yue Ge’er refused to drink milk after birth, he found a milk goat and fed her spoonful by spoonful himself each day.
When the child cried, fussed, or fell slightly ill, Landlord Xu grew anxious with worry. It could be said that he had invested too much time and effort in Yue Ge’er.
Human hearts are inherently biased. In Landlord Xu’s eyes, Yue Ge’er was the darling he had raised—flawless in every way.
Hao Ge’er’s “slander” of his younger brother and his unrepentant lies tested Landlord Xu’s patience, but he suppressed his anger. He still had to take Yue Ge’er to pay respects to his teacher and couldn’t afford to waste time.
“Steward, take the ruler and strike the Eldest Young Master’s palms twenty times. Show no mercy!”
Hao Ge’er was incredulous. As the eldest grandson and older brother, his mother had told him that everything in the Xu family would be his.
Wasn’t Yue Ge’er supposed to beg for his favor in the future, like a servant? So what if he hit Yue Ge’er a few times?
Besides, Yue Ge’er had harmed his mother and made faces at him—why should he be punished?
“It’s not fair, Grandfather, this isn’t fair…” he yelled and protested, but Landlord Xu, carrying Yue Ge’er, turned and strode away without looking back—
He wouldn’t let a disobedient grandson delay his incarnation of a celestial star of literature from paying respects to his teacher.
Several servants hurried after Landlord Xu, carrying gift boxes. The steward, with little hesitation, picked up the ruler and apologized for what he had to do.
The ruler was made of hardwood, coated with lacquer, and at least an inch thick. With just one strike, Hao Ge’er howled in pain.
The steward remained unmoved, while the surrounding servants held Hao Ge’er firmly in place.
In the inner household, it was either the east wind prevailing over the west wind or the west wind prevailing over the east wind. With the second branch clearly losing favor and Landlord Xu favoring Yue Ge’er, who still regarded Hao Ge’er as significant?
Upon boarding the only carriage owned by the Xu family, Landlord Xu held Yue Ge’er in his arms and proudly pointed to the land outside, saying:
“All this land belongs to our Xu family—three hundred mu of paddy fields and five hundred mu of dry land planted with mulberry and fruit trees. This is the family estate accumulated by our ancestors over generations.”
“Don’t think eight hundred mu is little. This is Jiangnan, where one mu of land is worth eight taels of silver. But that price is just for show—only a prodigal son would sell his land.”
The land alone was worth over six thousand taels of silver, and Xu Yue also knew that besides the land, the family owned several shops.
His father was often away, claiming to be traveling for study, but in reality, he was trading in silk—a more respectable name for it.
This was another major source of income for the Xu family. Women in Jiangnan often raised silkworms and wove cloth, and silk from the region was renowned throughout the land. The Xu family owned mulberry fields and had many tenant farmers.
For years, the women in the village raised silkworms, either buying or borrowing mulberry leaves from the Xu family. After the silkworms spun their cocoons, most of the silk was sold to the Xu family for trade, providing the villagers with a livelihood.
It could be said that the Xu family profited from both ends of the supply chain, offering a one-stop service. The profits from this business were substantial, with every squeeze yielding grease.
The landlords and rural gentry Xu Yue had known in his previous life were exactly like the Xu family—seemingly prosperous, with wealth and land, but without a scholar in the family, they could never elevate their status and remained mere landowners.
As Landlord Xu spoke, he suddenly looked down at Yue Ge’er. The child was listening intently, his long eyelashes curled like butterfly wings, his jade-white face exquisitely delicate, hinting at the stunning beauty he would grow into.
Landlord Xu’s heart suddenly tightened. His poor grandchild, a Reincarnated Star of Literature, had mistakenly been born a girl.
For his own selfish desire to bring glory to the family, he had made his granddaughter pose as a grandson. But would the child resent him when she grew older and understood the truth?
With such exceptional beauty, Yue Ge’er could have married into a good family, devoted herself to her husband and children. Instead, she was forced to compete with the nation’s most talented scholars, all while carrying a dangerous secret.
It was too difficult, too difficult.
Overwhelmed with sorrow, Landlord Xu glanced outside. Seeing that the servants were not nearby, he whispered to Xu Yue:
“Dear grandchild, wouldn’t it be nice to be a girl? Wearing pretty clothes and jewelry, living happily every day. Grandpa will give you fifty—no, eighty mu of land as a dowry.”
The system’s alarm instantly blared. How could Landlord Xu, with his honest appearance, betray their cause like this?
It anxiously checked on the host, fearing she might be swayed. Xu Yue couldn’t deny that Landlord Xu’s offer was tempting.
Becoming a renowned minister was no easy feat. Just consider the imperial examinations: county exams, prefectural exams, academy exams, provincial exams, metropolitan exams, and palace exams—layer after layer of selection. Countless candidates studied until their sixties without ever achieving success.
That was why Fan Jin went mad when he passed the provincial exam.
Even if one managed to pass the highest exams and become a scholar-official, the treacherous waters of officialdom could easily lead to a fall from which one might never recover.
Xu Yue glanced at Landlord Xu, who was torn with indecision, and felt a warmth spread through her heart.
Landlord Xu had considered her feelings, willing to sacrifice the family’s chance for advancement, and even promised her eighty mu of land as a dowry. Though it was only one-tenth of the family’s land, it was no small matter.
Most dowries for women consisted of movable assets—which family would give their daughter a share of the family’s foundational land?
According to the laws of this dynasty, when dividing the family estate, the eldest legitimate son received seventy percent, the remaining legitimate sons shared twenty percent, and the illegitimate sons divided ten percent. Daughters received nothing.
In common practice, to prevent the family estate from being fragmented, the eldest son often received even more, while the other sons were given only some money.
So, these eighty acres of land—even the second branch might not receive this much during family division.
She was merely a granddaughter, not even a daughter. Reality wasn’t like fiction, and Landlord Xu was already exceptionally fond of her.
Enough to be scolded as a squanderer of family fortunes.
Landlord Xu then saw Yue Ge’er shake his head, speaking in a childish voice:
“I don’t want eighty acres of land, nor do I like wearing pretty clothes. I want to become the top scholar in the imperial examinations. Didn’t I already promise Grandfather? To bring honor to our ancestors—Yue Ge’er keeps his word.”
As he spoke, the little child puffed out his chest and patted it twice, looking very proud.
“Ah, my good grandson! Well said, well said—bring honor to our ancestors.”
Landlord Xu’s heart softened like Tonghe Zhai’s rose-flavored white sugar cake—sweet and fragrant—wishing he could cradle his dear grandson close to his heart and cherish him.
The system breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing it like this, Xu Yue said calmly in her mind:
“You don’t need to worry about me going back on my word. In modern society, it might be possible, but what is the situation for women in ancient times?”
“Life should not be lived as a woman—a hundred years of suffering and joy depend on others. I am unwilling.”
The most important thing was these four words: I am unwilling. She didn’t want to merely pray that the person who would control her fate in the future would be a good person.
She wanted to grasp power firmly in her own hands.