AD (QT) Chapter 103

Ever since it was revealed that Han Daya had drugged Han Ze, causing him to faint during every examination, word spread among the nearby villages. From then on, Han Daya became like a rat scurrying across the street—everyone shouted to beat her. Not only that, even her three children were shunned. Whenever they went out and met the village children, they were mocked and chased, pointed at and jeered as “the ones whose mother likes poisoning people.”

Their mother, the villagers said, was like the villain in a play, and children born of a villain must be villains themselves.

Her two sons were older and somewhat sensible. They knew what their mother had done was wrong, and they felt miserable inside. But they could not understand—why would their mother poison their uncle? Hadn’t their uncle always been kind to them? Since the truth came out, they had not dared to step foot near their grandmother’s house, afraid to see the disgust in the eyes of their uncle, aunt, and grandparents.

Faced with people’s scolding and their strange, contemptuous looks, the two boys could only lower their heads and pretend not to hear as they walked past.

The youngest, Han Chunxue, was still small. She didn’t understand as early as Han Jinxiu did. When her playmates all began avoiding her and refused to play with her, she couldn’t bear it. Crying, she ran home to her mother. But Han Daya was helpless. Even though she had lived a second life and knew many things that would happen in the future, the moment Han Ze recovered from his illness and passed the county exam, she realized all of that knowledge was useless.

Some families who had once been on good terms with her pretended nothing had happened, but in their hearts they were uneasy. To live in the same village as such a venomous woman frightened them. After all, if she could harm her own brother, who was to say she wouldn’t harm them one day, without reason or warning?

Later, when the joyous news came that Han Ze had passed as a xiucai, the villagers felt an even deeper chill in their hearts. They said among themselves that if Han Daya hadn’t poisoned him, with his talent he would have become a xiucai years ago—perhaps even a juren by now.

In all the surrounding villages, not one new xiucai had appeared in recent years. Even in Xiaohan Village, there was only one old tongsheng. Whether Han Ze became xiucai or juren made no great difference to them personally, but once a scholar from their village rose in rank, everyone else in the region would look up to their village with respect.

That gave them even more reason to condemn Han Daya.

When Doctor Wang finally divorced Han Daya, the villagers of Xiaohan Village didn’t pity her in the slightest. Instead, they clapped their hands and cheered. “Such a vicious woman,” they said, “whoever marries her is unlucky. Doctor Wang’s temper is too kind—he should have cast her out long ago. Even if she’s not drowned in a pig cage, she should be driven out of the village before she harms anyone else.”

Han Daya refused to divorce at first. But ever since the truth of her poisoning Han Ze came out, her husband had ignored her completely, treating her as though she didn’t exist. Not only that, he even moved out of the house they had shared for years.

She tried everything—sweet words, tears, even begging—but he refused to forgive her, believing her heart truly malicious.

When no one in the village came to see Doctor Wang for medical treatment anymore, their income dried up. Even the children began to resent her. Her in-laws were furious and demanded the two separate. “Either you divorce,” they said, “or we’ll make him write a letter of repudiation.”

Han Daya was terrified of being formally repudiated—it would leave her with no dignity at all—so she had no choice but to agree to the divorce.

Never had she imagined that in this second life, her days would only grow worse. Her husband and her children all abandoned her. After all her scheming, all her effort, what had it been for?

For the children’s sake, the Wang family didn’t make things too difficult for her. They let her take her dowry and even gave her five taels of silver. But that could not soften the hatred festering in her heart. Taking her dowry and the silver, she did not return to her parents’ house. She turned away from the village instead.

One day, she vowed, she would return to Xiaohan Village in glory, and all those who had once looked down on her would have to look up to her.

No one knew where Han Daya went after she left.

Han Youtian and his wife, hearts already torn by her betrayal, sometimes felt a flicker of worry for her. But then they remembered the things she had done, and they hardened their hearts again. They decided not to ask, not to look, not to listen. If they pretended she no longer existed, they would not have to grieve.

When they happened to meet her children in the village, they couldn’t help but ask a few kind questions. But they never invited them into the house for a meal.

…

Han Ze went to the county seat, completed all the formalities for enrollment at the academy, and during his days off found a small courtyard near the school.

The county academy gave one long break each month—three days in total. Taking advantage of that, Han Ze returned home and brought Wang Caiwei and the children to live in the county.

Old Granny Lü also owned a small courtyard in the county. Years ago, when a plague broke out, her husband had died of it. The couple had been childless, and she had refused to remarry. She had never believed that “a woman’s virtue lies in her lack of talent.” When she took Jinxiu as her apprentice, it was partly because the girl was bright and quick-witted, and partly because she could already read and write.

Now that her apprentice was going to follow her father to study in the county, Granny Lü, having no family of her own and caring deeply for her only student, decided to move to the county as well. That way, she could continue teaching her embroidery.

As for Jinxiu’s original plan—to spend half a month at home learning embroidery and half in the county studying—Granny Lü rejected it outright.

“Whatever you learn,” she said, “must be learned with persistence. Once interrupted, your progress will suffer, and in the end, you’ll learn nothing well.”

Hearing this, Han Jinxiu was deeply moved. Her master truly thought of everything for her sake.

Han Ze was also touched, though not surprised. Stroking his daughter’s head, he said gently, “In the future, you must treat your master with great filial respect.”

Han Jinxiu nodded seriously. Her little face was solemn. “A teacher for a day is a father for life. I should be filial to my master, just as I am to my parents.”

Han Ze smiled, his tone warm. “To know gratitude is a good thing.”

At the desk, Yan Hong was practicing his calligraphy. Hearing their exchange, his brush paused midstroke. A teacher for a day is a father for life… he thought. Someday, he too would honor his teacher just as he honored his mother.

Han Jinye nudged him with his foot. Yan Hong looked up, and Jinye asked, “Were you daydreaming just now?”

Yan Hong lowered his head and resumed writing. “No.”

Jinye curled his lip. He knew the boy was lying but didn’t expose him. Glancing at Yan Hong’s paper and seeing that he was nearly done with another sheet, Jinye hurriedly gathered his focus and began to write faster.

If Yan Hong outpaced him too much, Father wouldn’t scold him—but he’d endlessly praise Yan Hong’s excellence right in front of him, which was even worse. He was younger than Yan Hong, yes, but that didn’t mean he was inferior. On the contrary, his father was a xiucai. He should be even more outstanding than Yan Hong.

…

The provincial examination was held once every three years, and next year would be a major exam year. Han Ze planned to participate, so he had little time to worry about his sons’ childish competition. As long as their rivalry remained healthy, he didn’t intervene. Better they competed with pens than with fists.

The children all knew their father would be taking the exam next year, so they were careful not to disturb him. When they encountered difficult passages or problems, they would wait until he had free time and then ask him together.

Han Ze was busy studying, so he had limited time to teach them himself. Still, he had accepted Yan Hong as his pupil, and sometimes felt guilty, fearing he might be holding the boy back.

Yan Hong, however, felt no such thing. His father had died early, and the family was poor. His mother’s earnings were barely enough to feed them, let alone send him to a school in town.

Though his teacher was busy preparing for the examination, he still found time every day to give them lessons. What he taught was always enough for them to absorb and understand. He never felt he was wasting time.

Moreover, Han Ze hadn’t charged him a single coin in tuition. If his teacher succeeded in the coming exam, Yan Hong would become the disciple of a juren—an opportunity he had never dared to dream of. Even in the town’s private school, the teachers were only xiucai. So rather than feel resentment, his heart was full of gratitude and pride.

…

Both of Wang Caiwei’s brothers-in-law now studied at the county academy. Her father, Old Master Wang, thought of Han Ze’s coldness toward him and felt a pang of discomfort. Finding some free time, he went to his eldest daughter’s home in the county to ask about Han Ze’s situation.

Wang Caixia had already heard that her brother-in-law had passed as xiucai, but she didn’t think much of it. Han Ze had taken that exam so many times. If it had been the provincial juren exam, that would be impressive—but xiucai? That was merely the first step.

Besides, the xiangshi was held in the provincial capital and cost far more than a county exam. She didn’t believe the Han family had that kind of money to keep sponsoring him.

Wang Caixia had no idea why Han Ze used to faint during every exam. She simply assumed he lacked talent. Otherwise, why would someone take the xiucai exam for so many years without success?

Now seeing her father taking such an interest in him, she frowned. “He’s failed so many times. Even if he finally passed third place, so what? Does the Han family have enough money to keep him taking exams again and again? You don’t need to think so much about him, Father. It’s not like you have only one son-in-law who’s a xiucai.”

Old Master Wang, though he lived in town, had followed Han Ze’s news closely ever since the man passed. He had also learned the truth—that Han Ze had fainted because his elder sister had poisoned him. He retold the story to Caixia and said, “Whether he passes as juren or not, he’s still my son-in-law. What’s wrong with me showing concern?”

After Han Ze’s ordeal, Old Master Wang had come to a realization: a son-in-law is not a son. You cannot treat him however you please. Whatever one feels inside, one must show the same face in public.

A daughter, even if she’s one’s own blood, belongs to her husband’s household after marriage. Some words can be spoken before a son, but not before a daughter.

Wang Caixia could hardly believe there existed a sister so malicious as to harm her own brother. She herself and Wang Caiwei were half-sisters with different mothers, and though she didn’t particularly like Caiwei, she would never dream of harming her—at most, she simply ignored her.

Still, she didn’t entirely believe her father’s story. Knowing his nature, she thought, unless there was some great profit involved, he wouldn’t care much about a son-in-law at all. So why this sudden concern?

When her husband, Liu Xiucai, returned from the academy, Old Master Wang immediately asked about Han Ze’s situation.

Liu Xiucai had been a xiucai for four years, studying in the county academy all that time. Unlike the newly admitted students, he was already in the advanced classes. With the major exam approaching next year, all his attention was devoted to studying. He paid no mind to who the new xiucai were and had never even seen Han Ze.

He and his wife shared the same view: even if Han Ze had passed as xiucai, it was unlikely he’d ever pass as juren. Coming from a peasant family, passing xiucai was already like incense rising from an ancestral tomb—it was luck beyond measure.

What puzzled Liu Xiucai most was this: why was his father-in-law, who had treated Han Ze so coldly during the New Year, now suddenly so enthusiastic toward him? Was it truly just because he had passed the xiucai exam?