Xu Huaixian floated back to Qinglian Academy through the rear gate, his mind replaying Chen Liejiu's kiss on loop. The lingering sweetness of that fleeting touch kept his lips curled upward uncontrollably.
His delayed return and dazed expression didn't escape Pei Wangshu's notice.
"Which maiden's autumn flirtations have you received to glow so brightly?" Pei teased, fanning himself with a folding fan.
"No maiden," Xu Huaixian set down the lunchbox, pride coloring his tone. "My husband came to see me."
Pei choked mid-sip of tea. "Husband? You're married?"
"Not married—I'm a live-in son-in-law," Xu Huaixian clarified without shame.
This time, Duan Youyan was the one coughing violently.
Pei shot him a questioning look.
"Just...surprised," Duan managed, before turning to Xu Huaixian. "Why choose uxorilocal marriage?"
Xu Huaixian spread his hands. "Look at me—do I seem capable of attracting a spouse otherwise?"
The unspoken agreement hung in the air.
"But with an official title, even the frailest scholar gains marriage prospects," Duan argued.
Xu Huaixian's smile turned wry. "Without this arrangement, I'd likely be dead—no imperial exams, no future."
He recounted his near-fatal illness and Chen Liejiu's intervention: "He literally threw silver at me to become his live-in husband—who could refuse?"
Pei's expression morphed from shock to disdain. "You sold yourself for money?"
"No," Xu Huaixian corrected. "For his beauty. He's the most stunning ger I've ever seen."
Duan recalled the flash of crimson robes at the academy gates—vibrant as poppies against dull stone. He stayed silent.
Pei rolled his eyes. A country bumpkin's standards—what does he know of true beauty?
Crunching roasted peanuts bought from the gatekeeper, Pei changed topics: "Don't forget my assignments tonight!"
Xu Huaixian settled at his desk, fingers tracing his still-tingling cheek.
My wife is wonderful.
Reunited with his men at the mountain's base, Chen Liejiu's cheerful facade crumbled.
"How is Second Brother?" Chen Wu asked eagerly.
"Not well," Chen Liejiu admitted through clenched teeth.
Chen Wu scratched his head. "But scholars have it easy—sitting comfortably, reading books..."
"His waist's thinner than my arm," Chen Liejiu interrupted, recalling how easily he'd encircled it earlier. "Pale as winter frost despite our nourishments."
The memory of Xu Huaixian savoring simple chicken soup like a feast twisted his gut. With a vicious crack of his ox whip, he decapitated a clump of roadside weeds.
"From tomorrow," he announced, "you'll deliver meals to the academy daily."
Chen Wu gaped. "I'm demoted from debt collector to food courier?"
"Same pay, less danger," Chen Liejiu countered. "Plus, you'll learn characters during deliveries."
"Characters?" Chen Wu paled as if sentenced to execution.
"How else will you find the academy gate?" Chen Liejiu bluffed. "Unless you prefer Chen Nan taking this easy silver?"
Gritting his teeth, Chen Wu surrendered. Three hundred coppers monthly could buy two new robes!
Yet Chen Liejiu's frown deepened.
"More troubles, boss?" his men asked.
"Funds," Chen Liejiu sighed.
The team exchanged puzzled glances—between debt collections and chick sales, their leader had earned over thirty taels recently!
"His medicines cost fifteen taels monthly," Chen Liejiu revealed.
Fifteen taels! The men recoiled. Xu Huaixian wasn't sickly—he was a gold-devouring pixiu!
Several nearly suggested abandoning this financial sinkhole, until remembering their leader's impending estrus cycle. Without Xu Huaixian's willing participation, even abduction couldn't solve Chen Liejiu's biological imperative.
Besides, they admitted privately, who'd dare dominate our boss in the marital bed?
Kicking at yellow clay clods, Chen Wu mused aloud: "If these were gold nuggets..."
"Clay...gold..." Chen Liejiu's eyes ignited. "I've got it!"
Back in the dormitory, Xu Huaixian and Duan diligently transcribed Pei's overdue essays by lamplight.
Qinglian's curriculum included basic arithmetic to prevent future officials from being swindled by clerks, but core assignments focused on essay writing—Pei's personal nightmare.
For Xu Huaixian, this was child's play. Two-hour daily calligraphy sessions since childhood had forged his endurance. Duan, who filled exam papers like a scribe possessed, completed his share effortlessly.
Watching his "academic mercenaries" work, Pei reclined on his bed, smugly patting his soup-distended belly. Snow sent in winter's depth—how could they refuse future requests after my timely alliance?
"Teachers say diligence breeds success," he pontificated. "Perhaps copying my work will help your own exams!"
Xu Huaixian and Duan exchanged amused glances but continued writing.
Next morning, Pei was still savoring yesterday's smuggled chicken soup when the lecturer's roar shattered his reverie.
"Pei Wangshu!"
Blinking, Pei stood. "Yes, Teacher?"
The lecturer's wooden ruler slammed against the desk with a thunderous crack. "How dare you feign ignorance!" His voice dripped with contempt as he glared at Pei Wangshu. "If you'll have others complete your assignments, why not hire substitutes for examinations too? What purpose does your presence here serve?"
His outrage stemmed from years witnessing spoiled young masters like Pei—frittering away their privilege on cockfights and hound racing while true scholars starved for opportunity.
Pei's face paled as he inspected the incriminating papers—two distinct handwriting styles glaringly obvious despite Xu Huaixian and Duan's attempts at disguise.
They sabotaged me!
His furious gaze swept to the back row where Xu Huaixian and Duan offered innocent smiles.
Xu Huaixian had genuinely tried to mimic poor penmanship, but years of disciplined calligraphy training betrayed him—his "ugly" script retained an underlying elegance. Duan's effort to improve his chicken-scratch writing proved equally futile.
"Stop gawking at your accomplices!" The lecturer's ruler cracked again. "Acknowledging faults is the first step toward redemption!"
Turning his ire toward the back, he admonished, "And you two—thinking you aided a friend? You've poisoned his scholarly path!"
Xu Huaixian and Duan stood, bowing respectfully. "We repent our error."
Their contrite demeanor softened the lecturer's wrath. After all, they hadn't concealed their handwriting—a small mercy suggesting redeemable character.
"Ten ruler strikes each," he decreed. "Then rewrite yesterday's assignment thrice over."
Duan received his strokes with stoic silence, the ruler leaving angry red welts. Xu Huaixian's delicate hands fared better—the lecturer tempered his blows for the frail scholar, though ten strikes still pinkened his palms.
Pei, resisting until the end, extended his hand reluctantly.
Whack! Whack! Whack!
Each strike fueled his resentment. Just copied homework—not like I murdered someone!
As the lecturer departed, he left Pei with cryptic wisdom: "Someday as a teacher yourself, you may thank me—and these two."
Pei rounded on his "friends" immediately. "Some comrades you are! I stood by you against Class D's ostracism, and this is my repayment?"
Xu Huaixian fanned Pei's fury with his own folding fan. "We suffered alongside you—my palms still sting!"
"Deserved!" Pei snapped, recalling their suspicious smirks yesterday. "You knew this would happen!"
Duan cut to the heart of the matter: "Had we refused, you'd have accused us of lacking camaraderie."
Pei's retort died unspoken—the truth stung.
"Why resist learning?" Xu Huaixian probed. Unlike Class D's typical slackers, Pei seemed actively opposed to education despite his presence at the academy.
"What's the point?" Pei crossed his arms. "Everyone says I'll never pass the Xiucai exams."
"Who dares claim that?" Xu Huaixian challenged. "You earned Tongsheng status—the Xiucai hurdle isn't insurmountable!"
Pei remained obstinate.
"Join our study group," Xu Huaixian proposed. "Two months of concerted effort for August's examinations. What have you to lose?"
Pei recoiled as if scalded. "Madness! I lack your stamina for midnight oil-burning!"
Xu Huaixian thrust his faintly pinkened palm forward. "These strikes were for you—will you let my sacrifice be in vain?"
Pei countered with his own swollen, purple-tinged hand. "This is real suffering! Your barely-touched skin doesn't merit coercion!"
"Coercion?" Xu Huaixian's eyes gleamed with sudden inspiration. He lifted a handkerchief to his lips. "If you abandon us now, this emotional distress might trigger a blood—"
"You scheming viper!" Pei interrupted before the cough could manifest.
Duan added his swollen hand to the display. "If his sacrifice seems inadequate, behold mine."
Just as Pei wavered, Zhang Bingwen emerged from the shadows with a fifth figure. "Who said we lack numbers?"
The newcomer bowed. "Meng Fangxun of Class C, at your service."
Pei's eyebrows shot up. "The Meng Fangxun? The scholarship student who studies by moonlight when lantern oil runs out?"
Meng nodded unashamed—poverty was no secret in Qinglian Academy, nor was his relentless work ethic.
Pei Wangshu eyed Meng Fangxun suspiciously. "How did you recruit him?"
Scholars like Meng—favored by teachers and the headmaster as near-certain Xiucai candidates—typically had no shortage of mutual guarantee partners.
Zhang Bingwen answered plainly: "I covered his academy fees and examination expenses for the year."
Xu Huaixian nodded approvingly. Investing in a top student's guidance was money well spent. "I'll reimburse my share later."
Knowing Xu Huaixian's financially generous husband, Zhang Bingwen agreed readily. Duan Youyan also pledged his portion.
Pei, cornered by their collective resolve, finally relented: "Fine—but on one condition." He pointed at Xu Huaixian. "When your family sends food, I get a share."
Still obsessed with that chicken soup, Pei seized this opportunity for free meals.
Xu Huaixian chuckled. "Agreed. My husband's arranging daily deliveries—you'll eat well."
"Daily?" Pei's eyes bulged.
"Of course," Xu Huaixian's lips curved proudly. "He's the world's best husband."
Thus, the five-man examination alliance was forged—Pei lured by culinary bribes rather than academic ambition.
Meng Fangxun, their newly appointed academic commander, diagnosed each member's weaknesses:
Xu Huaixian:
Strengths: Competent in all areas except poetry.
Weaknesses: Unorthodox ideologies and overly simplistic phrasing.
Remedy: Memorize orthodox Confucian doctrines to align his radical thoughts with examination standards.
Duan Youyan:
Strengths: Keen analytical skills.
Weaknesses: Atrocious handwriting and tangential arguments.
Remedy: Practice calligraphy using Xu Huaixian's scripts as models; restructure essay frameworks.
Zhang Bingwen:
Strengths: Solid foundational knowledge.
Weaknesses: Uninspired writing.
Remedy: Mandatory two-hour daily leisure to stimulate creativity.
Pei Wangshu:
Strengths: None apparent.
Weaknesses: Abysmal concentration and entitlement.
Remedy: "NOOOO! YOU CAN'T FORCE ME TO STUDY! HELP! HEL—"
Zhang Bingwen brandished his shoe threateningly. "Scream again, and this sock goes in your mouth!"
Their schedule became monastic—lessons, meals, and study sessions bleeding into one continuous cycle. Even rest days were spent drilling in the academy.
Xu Huaixian, coughing blood nightly, transformed his insomnia into study marathons—treating this like his modern gaokao (national college entrance exams) final sprint.
Their fanaticism bewildered classmates, especially Class D's mediocrities:
"Why's Meng Fangxun tutoring these deadweights? That sickly Xu might not even survive the exam halls!"
The three-day provincial examinations were notorious for their brutal conditions—cramped cells where candidates couldn't stretch limbs, let alone lie down.
"Delusional to think two months can bridge Class D and Xiucai standards!" scoffed one scholar.
"Even if Xu lives, his essays won't," another sneered. "Headmaster placed him in D for a reason!"
Pei, tears streaming as Meng's acupuncture needle jabbed his hand awake, whimpered: "I was tricked!"
Bound to his chair by Xu Huaixian's ropes (hunger his only motivator), Pei epitomized reluctant scholarship.
As August arrived, instructors dismissed candidates: "Rest two days before departing for the prefectural exams."
"May you return bearing the Xiucai title!"
Their final challenge awaited.
After two grueling months of intensive study at Qinglian Academy, Xu Huaixian finally felt a semblance of confidence in his examination essays. The initial panic that had plagued him upon arrival had subsided, replaced by an urgent longing for home.
He wondered what Chen Liejiu had been occupied with all this time. Apart from that single visit when he'd delivered money, it had been Chen Wu bringing meals daily—two whole months without seeing his husband's face! The yearning had become unbearable.
Abandoning most belongings, Xu Huaixian grabbed only essential books and strode out of the academy gates.
Yesterday, he'd asked Chen Wu to relay his homecoming plans. Would Chen Liejiu come to meet him?
The answer materialized in a blaze of crimson at the mountain's base—there stood his radiant husband, grinning brilliantly beneath the twilight sky.
Two months apart had magnified every detail: the confident tilt of Chen Liejiu's chin, the way sunlight danced in his eyes, the teasing curve of lips Xu Huaixian had dreamed of nightly. He nearly swept his husband into an embrace right there, spinning him while demanding accounts of every missed day.
Instead, he bit back the impulse, pursing his lips in feigned displeasure. "I thought you wouldn't come."
"How could I not?" Chen Liejiu caught his hand, swinging their joined fingers playfully when Xu Huaixian's expression remained sullen. Recognizing this as protest over his prolonged absence, he squeezed gently. "See? I'm here now."
"Two months," Xu Huaixian emphasized, the words heavy with unspoken accusation. What could possibly justify such neglect? Had he not trusted Chen Liejiu implicitly, he might have suspected himself replaced by some new live-in husband.
"I was handling important matters," Chen Liejiu explained, leading him toward the waiting oxcart. "But it's settled now—won't happen again."
Xu Huaixian perked up. "Finished?"
"Completely!" With a flourish, Chen Liejiu presented a hefty cloth bundle. "Earnings from these months—no more medicine money worries!"
The weight surprised Xu Huaixian as he accepted it. Unwrapping revealed stacks of silver ingots, each meticulously shaped into blooming peonies. His eyes widened. "This much?!"
Chen Liejiu guided him onto the oxcart, satisfaction curling his lips. "Remember the embroidered pouch I once promised to repay?" He flicked the reins, oxen plodding down the mountain path. "Consider this debt settled with interest."
Indeed—where Xu Huaixian had given a single small pouch, Chen Liejiu returned a fortune.
Clutching the bundle, Xu Huaixian's mind raced. What venture yields such profits in two months? His gaze turned suspicious. Surely not highway robbery?
Noticing his husband's skepticism, Chen Liejiu merely chuckled, steering the cart onto the forest trail. "All will be clear at home."
Seated on the oxcart, Xu Huaixian's knees bent against the wooden frontboard, pale blue robes fluttering like moth wings in the evening breeze. Moonlight sculpted his features—sharp jawline softened by illness, lips pale yet beautifully shaped. Two months had refined his beauty into something ethereal, fragile as spun glass yet devastatingly alluring.
Chen Liejiu's grip tightened on the reins. The urge to crush this delicate husband against himself, to stain those scholarly robes with evidence of possession, surged dangerously.
Fireflies emerged as dusk deepened, their luminescent dance transforming the forest into a corridor of floating stars.
"Cough—cough—"
The spell shattered with Xu Huaixian's wet, ragged coughs. Blood seeped past his lips—no handkerchief in hand to catch it—streaking crimson down his chin.
Chen Liejiu turned.
The sight arrested him:
Blood like rouge on porcelain skin.
Fireflies casting halos around disheveled hair.
Eyes dark with pain yet impossibly inviting.
A woodland spirit crafted to ensnare mortal hearts.
Before reason intervened, Chen Liejiu had halted the cart deep in glowing foliage, fingers tilting Xu Huaixian's face upward. Their lips met—not the chaste peck of their farewell, but something hungry, devouring.
Iron tang of blood mixed with salt.
Breaths coming short and heated.
Fingers tangling in fabric, pulling closer—
A moan escaped Xu Huaixian as Chen Liejiu's tongue traced the seam of his lips, his entire body arching into the touch. Through half-lidded eyes, he watched Chen Liejiu's ger mark—the vermilion line between his brows—darken from rust to fresh blood's brilliance.
Estrus approaches.
Chen Liejiu wrenched away panting, putting dangerous distance between them. "No more."
Xu Huaixian swiped a thumb across his glistening lower lip, collecting mingled blood and saliva. His voice dropped to a whisper, husky with promise: "Let me help you."
As lawful spouses, assisting a ger through estrus was natural, expected even.
But Chen Liejiu snatched up the dropped ox whip, resuming their journey with unnatural focus. "You're still too little(young). Need more nurturing first."
Xu Huaixian froze.
—Little?!