At dusk, Chen Jinzhan emerged from the academy premises.
Before he could step onto his carriage, a handsome young man of striking height and exceptional posture glided toward him. Though clad in a robe of coarse cloth, his refined demeanor radiated an unmistakable scholarly grace, paired with clear, cool eyes that held a gravity far beyond his years.
Rarely did a youth of such quiet grandeur hail from humble stock; more often, such a presence belonged to the scions of noble houses or deeply entrenched elite families. Seeing it embodied in a commoner was a rare sight indeed, and it sparked a flicker of surprise in Chen Jinzhan’s chest.
Instead of turning away as he usually did when faced with strangers, Chen Jinzhan instinctively paused.
Stopping four or five paces away, the youth bowed low in formal greeting. “Greetings, Master. I am Xie Shuhuai, a scholar of humble origins. I have taken the liberty of putting myself forward, hoping Master might grant me an opportunity to enter the academy.”
Chen Jinzhan’s eyes narrowed slightly in evaluation. “Entering the academy? So long as the headmaster approves and the tuition is paid, you may join,” he said coolly. “There is no need to seek me out.”
Straightening his spine, Shuhuai offered another respectful bow. “Thank you for the reminder, Master. Yet if Lord Meng himself instructed that I come seek you out should trouble arise, I wonder… would Master be willing to grant me this opportunity?”
Chen Jinzhan’s eyes thinned even further. The mild, cultured air he usually wore vanished beneath a sudden wave of sharp frost, and he scrutinized the youth once more.
In all his years within officialdom, he had never met anyone who recommended themselves with such unyielding composure—neither sycophantic nor timid. A person like this was either endowed with extraordinary talent or merely a grandstanding fool chasing attention.
Shuhuai met Chen Jinzhan’s assessing gaze with unblemished openness.
After a tense silence, Chen Jinzhan spoke up. “How far have you progressed in the imperial examinations?”
Shuhuai answered without a trace of fluster, “Replying to Master: I failed the metropolitan examination in the third month of this year.”
A subtle curve touched Chen Jinzhan’s lips, a thread of cold mockery surfacing in his eyes. “The scholars under my tutelage are all failed candidates. You are nothing special, so I fear I must disappoint you.”
With those words, he turned on his heel to leave, a wave of disappointment settling in his chest.
“Master, please wait,” Shuhuai called out, remaining rooted where he stood. His tone rang with absolute conviction. “My failure was unlike that of others. It was not due to a lack of ability, but due to external interference.”
Chen Jinzhan turned back sharply, a shadow of inner turmoil flickering across his eyes.
After a moment of silence, he commanded, “Get on the carriage. Follow me.”
The carriage pulled up at a quiet, elegant residence not far from the academy grounds.
Shuhuai followed close behind Chen Jinzhan as they stepped into the courtyard. To his surprise, there was no ostentatious luxury—only a simple, unadorned charm throughout. Servants were sparse, leading Shuhuai to deduce that this was merely a temporary retreat rather than Chen Jinzhan’s primary home.
Chen Jinzhan led Shuhuai straight into the study.
Once Shuhuai was seated, Chen Jinzhan got straight to the point. “I am going to test you. The topic I set is: A Detailed Treatise on the Essentials of National Prosperity and Governance. There will be only one examination section, covering the Four Books and policy essays on history and classics. You must finish before the hour of Hai tonight.”
Even as he spoke, his brush flew across the paper, the prompt leaping vividly onto the sheet moments later. A personal attendant standing nearby took the paper and handed it to Shuhuai.
Shuhuai rose, accepting it with both hands, and bowed deeply. “Thank you, Master.”
Having pressing matters back at the main academy, Chen Jinzhan instructed his attendant, “Remain here today and prepare ink and brushes for Young Master Xie.”
“Yes, Master.”
By the time Chen Jinzhan finished his duties at his primary residence and returned to the quiet courtyard, it was already six quarters past the hour of Xu—a mere half hour before the deadline he had set.
Reluctant to disturb Shuhuai, he avoided going straight into the study, intending to wait in the guest room first.
Yet the moment he stepped into the courtyard, his close guard hurried forward to greet him. “Master, Young Master Xie completed the examination at two quarters past the hour of Xu. He is waiting inside the study right now.”
A look of sheer astonishment washed over Chen Jinzhan’s face, swiftly followed by a flash of delight as he quickened his pace toward the study.
Xie Shuhuai rose to greet him, presenting his multi-foot-long examination paper.
At first glance, Chen Jinzhan was instantly captivated by Shuhuai’s neat, balanced, and rounded regular script. His brushwork was elegant yet resolute, every stroke laying bare his formidable foundation in calligraphy.
Inspecting the content further, Chen Jinzhan found the policy essay on governance to be exceptionally perceptive, rigorously structured, and supported by thorough argumentation. The organization was exquisite, blending subtle emotion with literary brilliance.
An excited glimmer shone in Chen Jinzhan’s eyes. A single reading had already yielded his decision; his second reading was purely out of deep admiration.
Setting the paper down, Chen Jinzhan declared decisively, “Come to Yunxiang Academy tomorrow. I will take care of your tuition.”
Shuhuai’s dark eyes remained calm, his expression composed. “Thank you, Master. I shall take my leave.”
Seeing how remarkably grounded the youth was, Chen Jinzhan felt immensely pleased. “Very well.”
After Shuhuai departed, the close guard spoke up. “Master, do you truly believe the Grand Tutor knows Young Master Xie?”
Swirling his teacup, Chen Jinzhan let out a light laugh. “That is beside the point. What matters is that my father-in-law is currently in dire need of someone like him. Since I cannot serve at court to ease his burdens, scouting a talent of this caliber is my way of contributing. Go and investigate his background.”
“Yes, Master.”
By the time Shuhuai returned home, it was already late into the night.
Neither Mrs. Cui nor Lin Yuhe had slept. How could they not worry when he had disappeared for an entire day without a word?
Seeing him return safe and sound, Mrs. Cui scolded, “Shuhuai, where have you been? You didn’t even send word back! Do you have any idea how worried we were?”
Yuhe remained silent, standing by Mrs. Cui’s side. As Shuhuai raised his eyes, his gaze collided directly with the worry shining in hers. After their eyes met for a fleeting second, both turned away.
Mrs. Cui continued her soft nagging. “Didn’t you say you were only going to the bookstore to turn in your manuscripts? Why are you back so late? Yuhe and I were just waiting at the village junction with a torch for the longest time!”
Faced with his mother’s complaints, Shuhuai offered only a quiet, offhand reply. “Mother, starting tomorrow, I will be attending Yunxiang Academy.”
Mrs. Cui froze on the spot.
Yuhe was even more incredulous—he had actually agreed to go to Yunxiang Academy of his own accord! In the past, Zhu Jinwen had come several times to persuade him, even offering to advance the tuition, but Shuhuai had remained entirely unmoved, stubborn as a mule.
Could it be that he truly believed her warnings?
Shuhuai walked into the kitchen, lifting the warm dishes kept in the pot.
Mrs. Cui hesitated before asking, “Shuhuai, did you spend the whole day out just to borrow money for the tuition? How much silver did you borrow?”
Setting the food down on the table, Shuhuai turned back to face her. “Mother, I didn’t borrow any silver. I do not need to pay tuition.”
At those words, not only Mrs. Cui, but even Yuhe was completely stunned.
Could such a stroke of good fortune really exist?
As long as he hadn’t gone into debt, Mrs. Cui was naturally thrilled. She didn’t pry any further, offering a few brief reminders before returning to her room.
Yuhe, however, lingered by the doorway, reluctant to leave. Hearing Mrs. Cui latch her bedroom door, she pressed on, unwilling to drop the matter. “You won’t risk taking that dangerous trip to the capital anymore, right?”
The chopsticks in Shuhuai’s hand paused mid-air. “My affairs have nothing to do with you,” he replied coldly. “You do not need to ask.”
Unwilling to bear his sharp tongue silently any longer, Yuhe snapped back, “I know your affairs have nothing to do with me! But your safety has everything to do with the child in my belly—I am asking on behalf of our child. Whether you choose to answer is your business, but I have asked my piece!”