Sheng Zhiyuan was not from a poor family. He was born into the Sheng family of Jiangnan. While not a major clan, they were considered part of the established gentry. He and his wife had only one son, Sheng Yunjin, who was raised to be innocent and carefree. His reputation was good both in the capital and within the Sheng family. Even after Sheng Zhiyuan was assigned to this remote area as a magistrate, it didn't hinder finding a match for Sheng Yunjin.
Arrangements were already being made. Not necessarily for a top match, but at least one from a respectable family that could guarantee him a lifetime of having enough to eat and wear. But it was all ruined because of that quack doctor, Duan Youyan!
He mistook a heat flush for a fever and even used acupuncture to unblock all of Jin'ge's meridians, causing him to become overwhelmed with heat and tear at his clothes on the spot, forcing them to take this herbalist as a live-in son-in-law.
If he didn't make him pursue official rank, then when those families who had previously been interested in Jin'ge but were rejected asked what kind of husband Jin'ge found, the answer would be, "Oh, a doctor from a herbal shop."
Just think how embarrassing that would be for Jin'ge.
Moreover, was he harming him by asking him to pursue rank? With a magistrate father-in-law like him, if nothing else, as long as he passed the进士 (Jinshi) exam, he could also become a county magistrate—surely more honorable and impressive than remaining a doctor in a herbal shop forever!
Sheng Zhiyuan had thought of everything, except that Duan Youyan didn't like it! He didn't want to be an official!
Born into a family that made its living running an herbal shop, he had been immersed in herbs and healing since childhood. He had decided at a very young age that he would grow up to be a doctor like his grandfather and father, healing people and developing their family shop into a proper clinic.
He had even gone to work as an apprentice in another clinic to study medicine, remaining unmarried at twenty-three.
If he hadn't gone to the magistrate's residence that day to treat the magistrate's son on his master's behalf, he wouldn't have...
Hearing Sheng Zhiyuan's words, Duan Youyan's hand, holding the medical book, paused. He was utterly stunned: "...What?... Keep taking exams?"
He hadn't studied medicine for two years. If he wasted a few more years, he would be completely cut off from ever becoming a doctor.
Seeing his reaction, Sheng Zhiyuan snorted: "If I were you, I'd keep taking them until I became an official!"
"Father!" Not only Duan Youyan, even Sheng Yunjin was angry upon hearing this. "We agreed that passing the Xiucai exam would be enough!"
"If you're content being the husband of a mere Xiucai and don't mind people laughing at you, then suit yourself!" Sheng Zhiyuan glanced at them both, snorted angrily, and got out of the carriage. Seeing them irritated him; he'd rather walk.
Sheng Yunjin was practically furious with his father. Was he trying to push Duan Youyan to his death?!
"A-Yan, don't listen to my father's nonsense." Once Sheng Zhiyuan left, Sheng Yunjin grabbed Duan Youyan's arm. "You are your own person. Do what you want to do; don't be influenced by my father's words."
He blamed himself. If only his heat flush hadn't occurred two years earlier than usual, Duan Youyan wouldn't have been forced into this painful marriage.
"If only..." The belief that had been sustaining Duan Youyan collapsed. He gripped the carpet on the carriage floor, muttering "if only" over and over, but he never finished the sentence.
If only he had never gone to the magistrate's residence that day. But if he had never gone, he would have never met Jin'ge in this lifetime.
Torn between his dream and his husband, caught between two impossible choices, Duan Youyan felt shattered by the unpredictability of fate. He was like a walking corpse, not knowing how to exist.
Leaving aside the stunned and confused looks exchanged by Pei Wangshu and the others after Duan Youyan left.
That night, after Sheng Zhiyuan departed, when Song Yunfan returned to the grading room and looked at the piles of exam papers on his desk, Sheng Zhiyuan's words kept echoing in his mind.
Sheng Zhiyuan's mentor was retiring?
Sheng Zhiyuan's mentor, He Jianghai, wasn't a major figure either—just a Lecturer-in-Waiting in the Hanlin Academy, a Rank 4b official responsible for lecturing to the Emperor and the Crown Prince.
Usually very inconspicuous and without real power, he had taken on Sheng Zhiyuan as a student because he happened to be an assistant examiner the year Sheng Zhiyuan took the exams. Sheng Zhiyuan was respectful to teachers and, after entering the Hanlin Academy, often visited He Jianghai. Over time, they became acquainted, and their relationship gradually became no different from that of a true master and disciple.
The Jin Dynasty had only been established for forty-five years. The current Emperor, having ascended the throne through... particular means, did not enjoy lectures. The Crown Prince had dedicated Grand Preceptors. He Jianghai, the Lecturer, sat on the cold bench every day in the Hanlin Academy. He couldn't even help Sheng Zhiyuan when he moved to the Ministry of Personnel, and later, when Sheng Zhiyuan was demoted to magistrate of Pingxi County, he was even more powerless to help.
But if he was retiring, that was different!
No matter what, he was a lecturer to the Son of Heaven. Although the Emperor had hardly attended any of his classes, since he was retiring without fault, the Emperor couldn't possibly not grant him face.
Things like promoting his rank a step and sending him back to his hometown with great fanfare for a honorable retirement aside, usually before retirement, the Emperor would ask the retiring senior official if he had any promising juniors to recommend to take his place, or if there were any outstanding descendants he favored.
As long as they weren't sycophants or spoiled brats, the Emperor would more or less give some face—promoting some, rewarding others—as a gesture to the senior official.
If he accepted Sheng Zhiyuan's olive branch, sending a merit stele to He Jianghai's hometown before his retirement, commemorating his years of service, He Jianghai would be pleased and might put in a good word for him with the Emperor. Then his path to promotion would have hope.
It wasn't that Song Yunfan wanted to suck up; it was just how officialdom worked. Everyone showed respect to retiring senior officials; even the Emperor had to give them face. As long as it wasn't excessive or harmed the people, the Emperor wouldn't care.
He had been assigned to Changnan as an examiner for three years and knew very little about court affairs. News like He Jianghai's retirement was probably known to few besides Sheng Zhiyuan. If he could curry favor before the retirement, he could surely get a piece of the pie.
A stele didn't cost much; it wouldn't even be enough to fill a censor's teeth if exposed.
The price was only to judge the paper fairly. Sheng Zhiyuan had really handed him a huge favor!
It was impossible for Song Yunfan not to be tempted!
Thinking this, he quickly dug out the exam paper with the handwriting Sheng Zhiyuan had shown him.
That handwriting was too recognizable—crooked and messy, like a dog's scratch—wasn't it the one that had made his eyes hurt?
He retrieved that failed paper from the pile and tried very hard to read this candidate's answers carefully again.
"...Hmm, not bad! Not bad!" Although the handwriting was truly ugly, the answers were fluent! The approach to deconstructing the questions was also novel and fresh, unlike anything he had seen before.
It proved this student had very solid knowledge, having memorized the Four Books and Five Classics thoroughly to answer so smoothly. What was rare was that he wasn't a rigid bookworm; his problem-solving approach was also clever and refreshing.
No wonder his father-in-law went to such lengths for him. If his answers were this good but he failed because of ugly handwriting, it would indeed be very hard to accept.
"...Let's retrieve this one," Song Yunfan said, holding up the paper and handing it to the two educational officials. After a thought, he added, "Just put him at the very bottom of the list."
After all, the answers were good, but the handwriting was still ugly. He couldn't go overboard.
The two officials, seeing Song Yunfan retrieve this ugly-handwritten paper again, asked puzzledly: "Sir, didn't you say his handwriting was too ugly and he should practice for two more years?"
Song Yunfan: "..."
"His answers are good. I suddenly feel," Song Yunfan, questioned by his subordinates and feeling his previous words were too absolute, making his face sting, but thankfully Duan Youyan's paper was passable, saving some face, said, "that his handwriting isn't that ugly anymore."
The Assistant Examiner: "..."
The Educational Intendant: "..."
Fine, you're the boss. Whatever you say!
They wrote this candidate's name at the very end of the list of successful candidates.
The number of Xiucai admitted each year per prefecture was fixed, usually around a hundred. However, Yong'an Prefecture was remote, with only two to three hundred Tongsheng candidates taking the exam each year, so only about fifty or sixty could be admitted.
This year's questions were difficult. They had only selected ten or twenty so far, and the list was still mostly empty.
After dealing with Sheng Zhiyuan's matter, the idle Song Yunfan began thinking about the stele inscription again.
Giving a stele wasn't just about sending a slab of stone; the inscription and the calligraphy on it were crucial.
A good inscription could be remembered for centuries. One that was too ordinary wouldn't achieve the flattering effect.
At this critical moment, where could he find someone who could write the deeds and achievements on the stele in a deeply moving and heartfelt way?
Changnan was remote and lacked literary talents. Suzhou had them, but the round trip would take too long and be too blatant—wouldn't that let everyone know he was trying to suck up?
He needed to be act discreetly!
He still had to look around Changnan. But where were there such inspired scholars in Changnan...