For three months at home, Xu Huaixian had consumed ginseng and bird's nest daily while diligently applying facial cream morning and night. Finally, his face regained some resemblance to his previous life's appearance—though still thirty percent short of his former handsome features, at least he'd transitioned from "unbearably ugly" to "marginally presentable."
Otherwise, he'd never have consented to attend school looking like a walking saltless dish.
However, admission to Qinglian Academy wasn't guaranteed merely with two recommendation letters—an entrance examination was required.
With the imperial court vigorously promoting civil service examinations, aspiring scholars flooded academies nationwide. Qinglian maintained standards by screening candidates for basic knowledge.
The exam's difficulty approximated the Tongsheng level—those failing couldn't waste academy resources.
Having self-studied intensively for two months, Xu Huaixian welcomed this assessment opportunity.
Located southeast of Mian County, Qinglian Academy was a two-hour oxcart ride from Xinghua Village via backroads. Approaching exam season, others shared Xu Huaixian's strategy—attending academy to bypass the cumbersome mutual guarantee process.
At the academy's foothills, Xu Huaixian spotted a parked carriage attended by a green-robed ger peering anxiously toward the mountain path—clearly another examinee's family member.
Chen Liejiu tethered their oxcart and carried the teacher's gifts. "Waiting for your husband?" he asked the ger. "Why not wait inside?"
The ger froze, then silently shook his head.
Chen Liejiu shrugged—if the other husband became Xu Huaixian's classmate, some acquaintance might prove useful later. But since the ger seemed unwilling to engage, he dropped the matter.
"Let's go." Xu Huaixian took Chen Liejiu's hand. The ger's skittish demeanor suggested sheltered upbringing—hardly their social circle.
Chen Liejiu's lips curled at the public hand-holding—most scholars considered bringing ger spouses embarrassing, let alone allowing them into academic spaces. But his husband felt no shame about their uxorilocal marriage.
(The suicide attempt didn't count—that was under duress from his uncle!)
Qinglian Academy's ninety-nine steps symbolized scholarly perseverance. Unfortunately, Xu Huaixian's frail constitution forced breaks every dozen steps.
From below, the green-robed ger misinterpreted their pauses as affectionate waiting. "How loving," he sighed wistfully before gloomily recalling his own marital situation.
After two incense sticks' worth of climbing, sweat-drenched Xu Huaixian finally reached the gates. Presenting both recommendation letters to the gatekeeper, they were soon ushered inside—Chen Liejiu stopped at the threshold.
"I'll wait here," Chen Liejiu assured when Xu Huaixian promised quick return.
Seeing the blazing midday sun, Xu Huaixian requested shelter for Chen Liejiu. The gatekeeper eyed him strangely—hand-holding spouses were already eccentric; demanding hospitality for one's ger was unprecedented. But with a magistrate's recommendation, he obliged.
Exam Hall
The stern, sixty-something Headmaster Zuo Zhengjian had reviewed Xu Huaixian's letters when another examinee—already seated—began writing furiously.
Xu Huaixian bowed. "Pardon my tardiness—health complications delayed me."
Headmaster Zuo handed him exam papers without reprimand. "Physical and scholarly cultivation both require disciplined training. Begin."
The examination hall contained multiple desks. Xu Huaixian selected one opposite the other candidate, arranging inkstone and brushes with graceful precision that impressed Headmaster Zuo despite his initial reservations about the scholar's sickly frame.
Such cultivated deportment suggests lifelong discipline—his scholarship must match.
The other examinee—Duan Youyan—glanced up briefly at Xu Huaixian's explanation before resuming writing. Noticing Xu Huaixian choosing the facing desk, his brow furrowed imperceptibly before refocusing.
The exam's unconventional questions stumped Xu Huaixian initially. He answered confidently known sections first, left blanks for uncertain ones—reasoning that as a self-taught candidate, gaps would be forgiven if core competencies proved adequate.
After two grueling hours—marked by Xu Huaixian's frequent handkerchief coughs versus Duan's uninterrupted writing—both submitted simultaneously.
Xu Huaixian admired Duan's diligence. A true academic—every question attempted meticulously.
Upon closer inspection during submission, Duan's stern, humorless expression mirrored Headmaster Zuo's—were they related?
Headmaster Zuo set Duan's paper aside unread, immediately scrutinizing Xu Huaixian's.
Does he favor me? Xu Huaixian wondered, catching Duan's darkened expression.
Dread pooled in his stomach. If Duan were truly exceptional, this preferential treatment would backfire spectacularly when his mediocre answers surfaced.
"Superb calligraphy!" Headmaster Zuo exclaimed, admiring the fluid, distinctive brushwork. "With refinement, you could establish your own school!"
Xu Huaixian smiled weakly—higher expectations meant harsher disappointment.
Then Headmaster Zuo's expression soured as he read further. Blinking, he reread the entire paper before looking utterly dismayed.
The elegant penmanship housed shockingly simplistic arguments—blunt phrasing lacking scholarly finesse, audaciously unorthodox perspectives, and glaring omissions.
All flash, no substance!
Having already shown preference, Headmaster Zuo couldn't lambast Xu Huaixian without losing face. Grimacing, he picked up Duan's paper instead.
The chicken-scratch handwriting offended his freshly pampered aesthetic sensibilities. Yet the densely filled pages offered some consolation.
"Your opening thesis demonstrates keen insight," he commented halfway through before confusion set in. "This elaboration... Wait—"
Leaning closer, his frown deepened. What nonsense is this?!
Each section began promisingly before devolving into incoherent ramblings—correct premises twisted into absurd conclusions!
Somehow worse than Xu Huaixian's work!
Gritting his teeth, Headmaster Zuo suppressed his outrage—criticizing Duan felt like self-rebuke given their shared stern demeanor.
"Headmaster," Xu Huaixian ventured upon seeing his thunderous expression, "which class have I been assigned?"
"Where else but Class D!" Headmaster Zuo snapped.
Qinglian's four tiers were:
Class A: Juren preparing for metropolitan examsClass B: XiucaiClass C: Advanced Tongsheng ready for provincial examsClass D: Baseline Tongsheng with flexible expectations
Xu Huaixian remained unfazed—better foundational review than struggling in advanced courses.
"And this candidate?" he asked, hoping to cultivate a study relationship with Duan.
"Same as you!"
Xu Huaixian blinked. Not the academic prodigy I assumed? Then why the intense focus?
After formal bows completing the admission ritual, they collected uniforms, satchels, and bedding—all prepaid by Chen Liejiu, Xu Huaixian realized upon seeing Duan settle the two-tael fee.
Two taels could build a house! Academia's exorbitant costs worried him—with medical expenses, home renovations, incubation projects, and new wardrobes, their savings dwindled alarmingly.
"Senior Xu!"
A round-faced youth barely reaching Xu Huaixian's chest bounded over—Zhang Bingwen, Teacher Zhang's grandson recognized by familial resemblance.
"Wen!" Xu Huaixian hoisted his bedding higher to peer down.
"You remember me!" Delighted, Zhang Bingwen reached for Xu Huaixian's load. "Let me carry these for you!"
Xu Huaixian eyed the boy's stature doubtfully. "I can manage—three years apart, you've grown remarkably like Teacher Zhang."
"Blood tells," Zhang Bingwen chuckled. His merchant father's academic disinterest had strained relations until his own scholarly promise redeemed the family line.
"How did you know I'd come today?"
"Grandfather mentioned your recommendation letter during my home visit last week," Zhang Bingwen explained. "Seeing Headmaster in formal robes today signaled new admissions—I waited after lectures."
Xu Huaixian touched by his dedication under the scorching sun. "What if I'd failed?"
"Impossible!" Zhang Bingwen shook his head vigorously. "You outpaced me easily at the village school—how could Qinglian's standards defeat you?"
That was three years ago, when a fourteen-year-old Xu Huaixian naturally surpassed ten-year-old Zhang Bingwen.
"Which class are you in now?"
"Class C!" Zhang Bingwen declared proudly. "Teachers say I'm ready for this year's exams!" Then, spotting Xu Huaixian's dorm assignment: "Oh! You're in Class D! Don't worry—I started there too! But beware Pei Wangshu—that Class D menace..."
"Tch—midget slumming in Class D quarters?" A richly dressed youth materialized, eyeing Zhang Bingwen disdainfully. "Did they demote you back?"
Zhang Bingwen scowled. "I'm not a midget! And this isn't your room!"
Pei Wangshu strode past him to a bed strewn with gaudy silks. "Blind? These are clearly mine."
Seeing Xu Huaixian and Duan, he assessed who might be Zhang Bingwen's "senior"—then sneered, "Since when do Class C rats call Class D trash 'senior'?"
Academy hierarchy demanded lower ranks address superiors honorifically—implying Zhang Bingwen's deference was either mockery or special circumstance.
"Come on, shrimp—call me 'senior' too," Pei taunted.
Duan interjected coldly, "You're shameless, dishonorable, and bullying minors."
"Who asked you?" Pei rounded on him. "Not his senior? Then shut up!"
Zhang Bingwen seized the momentum: "At least I'm not the pig-brained mutt who barks and oinks!"
"Who're you calling livestock?" Pei grabbed the nearest object—
"Cough-cough-cough—"
Xu Huaixian erupted into violent spasms, doubling over until blood speckled his handkerchief.
The trio froze—
Zhang Bingwen: Did I aggravate Senior's condition?
Duan: Is he dying before matriculation?
Pei: Did I literally cough someone to death?
"Senior! Are you okay?" Zhang Bingwen rushed to support him.
Xu Huaixian waved weakly. "Fine... just... couldn't get a word in earlier..."
Duan raised an eyebrow—who could hear pleas for calm during arguments?
Pei eyed the bloody handkerchief. "My fault or the shrimp's?"
"Yours!" Zhang Bingwen accused.
"Me? You provoked him first!" Pei kicked a bedpost before reluctantly producing a silver note. "Shouldn't you see a physician?"
"Chronic condition," Xu Huaixian rasped.
Pei stared. "This chronic? Who coughs blood routinely?"
Duan, offering to check Xu Huaixian's pulse, shocked everyone. "You practice medicine?"
His diagnosis was grim: "Depleted vitality across all meridians, multiple organ damage. Avoid extreme emotions—only sustained nourishment can prolong life."
Pei scratched his head. "That's impossible—humans aren't stones. How does he function?"
Zhang Bingwen looked devastated.
Xu Huaixian smiled. "Life's length is predetermined. Some perish walking safely; I merely manage illness. Each day is borrowed time."
"You're like glass art!" Pei groaned. "Unfit for human interaction!" And now roommates with this fragile artifact—what luck!
The medical intermission forced a ceasefire.
That afternoon, Zhang Bingwen gave campus tours. At dinner's lackluster cafeteria food, Pei surprisingly produced a clay pot of chicken soup.
"Here—replace some lost blood."
"Thanks, Pei." Xu Huaixian accepted, knowing the sixteen-year-old's nickname preferences from Zhang Bingwen.
Pei bristled at the familiarity but swallowed his retort—berating a glass man risked shattering him.
That night, lying alone in unfamiliar quarters, Xu Huaixian's amusement faded.
Something felt missing.
Where was his husband?
His wonderfully warm, fragrant husband whose embrace once lulled him to sleep?
Facing solitary nights without Chen Liejiu's comforting presence, Xu Huaixian nibbled his blanket miserably.
One day apart, and I'm already homesick.