AD (QT) Chapter 107

On the 9th of the eighth month, the scholars participating in the provincial examinations entered the Examination Hall a day early. With the three candidates gone, the house suddenly felt empty and desolate. Wang Caiwei, constantly worrying about Han Ze, had no heart for her embroidery. Seeing her looking so lost, Zhao Zhengxiu’s wife, Lady Zhang, knew she was fretting over her husband; thinking of her own man, Zhang Shi’s brow also clouded with worry.

Old Madam Wang tossed the shoes she was making for Wang Ziwen into a basket and looked up at the two young wives. “You two just think too much. Those boys are young; even if Han Ze is a bit older, he hasn’t even hit thirty yet. If they don’t pass this time, there’s always the next. Now that they’ve entered the hall, our job as companions is half done. Whether they pass or not will be clear when the results are posted. There’s no need to worry; relax and wait for them to come out.”

Wang Caiwei gave a knowing smile. Though Aunt Wang wasn’t physically stout, she was certainly broad-minded. Still, the woman was right; whether her husband became a Juren would be revealed in time. She wasn’t worried about his results, but the thought of him staying in the Gongyuan for nine days made her frown. Though Han Ze hadn’t fallen ill in the last two years, his physique was naturally frail compared to other candidates. She didn’t know if he could endure those nine days. Compared to his health, she didn’t care much about the degree.

As the final days approached, the worry on her face became more pronounced, fearing that any day now, her husband would be carried out of the hall. Han Erlang saw through his sister-in-law’s thoughts and, sharing some of that worry, ran to the Gongyuan gates every day before dawn to keep watch.

By some odd design, Wang Caixia appeared before her and remarked, “This exam lasts nine days; even strong men find it hard to endure, let alone someone as frail as your husband. I suggested before the exam that you stew more tonics for him, but you ignored me. Isn’t it a bit late to start worrying now?”

Wang Caiwei was already anxious about Han Ze’s health, and every one of her sister’s words felt like a needle to the heart. Growing impatient, she didn’t argue but her face darkened. She simply said, “From your tone, Sister, Brother-in-law must be certain to pass in one go. I shall congratulate you in advance then.”

Wang Caixia’s expression shifted. No one could claim certainty before the results were out. What did Wang Caiwei mean by congratulating her now?

Wang Caiwei had no desire to deal with her further. Seeing her sister’s changed expression brought a flicker of satisfaction. In the past, she felt that despite their differences, they were sisters, so she endured the coldness and provocations. Now she realized her restraint only made her sister more emboldened—even using Han Ze’s health as a talking point was more than she could stand.

She said coldly, “Is there anything else, Sister? If not, I have embroidery to do. My husband comes from a farming family and our days aren’t lavish. If I don’t work for a day, there’s no money to spend. We aren’t like your family, surrounded by servants with more money than you can use, never having to worry about a coin.”

Finished, she ignored Wang Caixia, picked up a half-finished handkerchief from a low stool, and lowered her head to sew.

Wang Caixia knew her sister was mocking her, but she couldn’t find the words to strike back. She felt a surge of resentment, thinking: Is it my fault my husband’s family is wealthy?

Wang Caiwei glanced at her. If your family has money to burn, that’s your business. I haven’t spent a penny of yours, so what are you showing off for? Even if my life is humble, I haven’t begged at your door. What right do you have to gossip to my face? To look down on my husband?

…

Inside the stalls of the Examination Hall, Han Ze was not doing as poorly as Wang Caiwei imagined. Even though he had to stay for nine days, it was August—the weather was neither too hot nor too cold. Even though he had been assigned a “stink stall”¹a seat near the latrines, he appeared far more composed than the other candidates. He answered questions when it was time to answer, ate when it was time to eat, and slept when it was time to sleep. It was no different from his study routine at home. He lacked the desperate urgency of the others; instead, he seemed leisurely, almost as if he were enjoying the exam.

Han Ze truly felt no pressure. Even when he realized he was in the stink stall, he only gave a helpless smile and didn’t panic. “Entering a market of dried fish, one eventually ceases to smell the stench.” When he first arrived, the odor was indeed unpleasant, but after a few hours, his mind was entirely on the paper. The smell no longer mattered, and it didn’t affect his performance. As for his confidence in passing, he didn’t assume anything; while confident, he never underestimated his peers.

The proctor glanced at him frequently, wondering to himself if this candidate thought the examination hall was an inn. His mindset was almost too good. He couldn’t tell if the man was genuinely confident or had simply given up and stopped caring about the result.

When the last session ended and the papers were handed in, even Han Ze couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh of relief. Staying in a cramped stall for nine days was truly taxing. As he walked out and looked up at the crystal-clear blue sky, he felt as if he had come back to life.

Han Erlang, along with the pageboys of Wang Ziwen and Zhao Zhengxiu, had long been waiting at the gates. Seeing him emerge, Han Erlang ran toward him, waving his arms and shouting, “Big Brother!”

Han Ze smiled and walked over. Han Erlang supported him, looking him up and down. Once finished, he suddenly covered his nose. “Brother, you smell terrible! People would think you fell into a latrine pit.”

Han Ze glanced at him but said nothing. He had spent nine days next to the latrines; how could he not smell?

Zhao Zhengxiu squeezed through from behind and laughed, “Your brother didn’t fall into the pit, but it was close enough.”

“Huh?” Han Erlang was startled. How did his brother almost fall into a pit? Wasn’t he taking an exam?

Han Ze was too tired to deal with the two of them. Right now, he only wanted to go home, soak in a hot bath to wash away the exhaustion and the stench, and then sleep deeply.

Han Erlang scratched his head, hesitated for a moment, but then gripped his brother firmly. Even if his brother smelled like a latrine, he was still his brother. His brother had just finished the exams and must be exhausted and weak; he had to support him properly and get him home safely.

Han Ze didn’t actually need the support—he wasn’t that weak—but seeing the boy’s earnest, silly look, he let him be.

“Brother, you and Zhao Zhengxiu go rest in the carriage first. We’ll head back as soon as Wang Ziwen comes out,” Han Erlang said.

“You rented a carriage?” Han Ze asked as they walked.

Han Erlang quickly replied, “Aunt Wang insisted. She said you’d be exhausted coming out of the exam hall, so she made us rent one.”

Han Ze nodded. Sitting in the carriage, he closed his eyes to rest. A moment later, Wang Ziwen climbed in, his hair disheveled and his spirit withered. He collapsed into the carriage with a groan. “It’s finally over.”

Zhao Zhengxiu smiled bitterly. “Suffering through such a ordeal… it’s fine if we pass, but if we don’t…” He shook his head, leaving the rest unsaid. They all understood.

Han Ze said, “The exam is over. Don’t think too much about it.”

Indeed, why make themselves miserable now? The carriage fell silent.

…

When they reached their lodgings, Wang Caiwei, Lady Zhang, and Old Madam Wang were already waiting at the gate. Seeing them get off the carriage, they rushed over to welcome them.

Han Ze looked at Wang Caiwei and asked as they walked inside, “Is there hot water? I want to bathe.”

Han Erlang chimed in from the side, “Brother almost fell into a latrine pit; he definitely needs a wash.”

Not only was Wang Caiwei stunned, but Lady Zhang and Old Madam Wang were also frozen in place. How did that happen?

Han Ze glared at him. If he weren’t so tired, he would have kicked him; the boy was so silly he couldn’t even understand a figure of speech.

Wang Ziwen and Zhao Zhengxiu were also stunned. Is Han Erlang a bit slow? They knew Han Ze had been assigned the stink stall, but they hadn’t expected Erlang to interpret it so literally. However, none of them felt like explaining right now. They only wanted a hot bath, a full meal, and a long sleep. As for the misunderstanding, let them think what they wanted.

Fortunately, the women had planned ahead. Two large pots of boiling water were ready in the kitchen. After a soak, a large bowl of hot chicken soup, and two bowls of chicken silk noodles, Han Ze collapsed onto the bed and slept for a full day and night. When he finally woke, he felt refreshed and clear-headed.

Seeing him emerge, Wang Caiwei breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t ask how he did; as long as he was healthy, she was at peace. “Husband, the chicken soup is still warm. Should I make you another bowl of noodles?”

Han Ze was hungry, so he nodded. Once he finished his meal, Wang Caiwei asked worriedly, “Erlang said you almost fell into a latrine pit. What happened?”

“…”

Why won’t this story die?

Han Ze helplessly explained the situation with the stink stall.

Wang Caiwei frowned slightly, both annoyed and amused. She couldn’t help but huff, “That Erlang…” But thinking of her husband living next to the latrines for nine days, her brow furrowed again.

Han Ze patted her shoulder comfortingly. “Don’t worry. Didn’t I come out just fine?”

Wang Caiwei sighed softly. True, his safe return from the Gongyuan was a blessing in itself.

Old Madam Wang, seeing Han Ze awake, sized him up and smiled. “Everyone says your constitution is weak, but I don’t see it that way.”

Han Ze and Wang Caiwei looked at her. Wang Caiwei smiled and asked, “Aunt Wang, why do you say that?”

Wang Caiwei loved hearing people praise Han Ze’s health even more than hearing them praise his scholarship. After all, his brilliance was well-known, but his frailty was also a common assumption. If Aunt Wang said his health was good, then perhaps she truly didn’t need to worry so much.

Old Madam Wang said, “My Ziwen and Zhao Zhengxiu look sturdier, but they’re still fast asleep. Your Han Ze is already awake and clearly recovered. What does that mean? It means Han Ze’s constitution is actually stronger than theirs.”

Thinking about it, Wang Caiwei realized she was right. Her husband had endured the “stink stall” for nine days—a feat of endurance and physical grit that surpassed others. From now on, could she really stop worrying so much about his health?