A Poor Man's Son-in-Law: He Picks Up the Daughter of a Duke's Mansion at the Start

When Lu Qingyan pushed open the courtyard gate, it was already completely dark.

Warm yellow light shone through the paper window of the kitchen, and wisps of smoke drifted from the chimney. Zhao was carrying a basin of water out to splash it when she saw him standing in the doorway. Her hand trembled, and she almost spilled the water on her feet.

"Why are you so late!" She put down the basin and hurried over, looking him up and down in the light coming from the kitchen. "It's already so dark, what if you were on the way..."

"The road is easy to travel." Lu Qingyan took the bundle off his shoulder, which contained several reams of paper he had just bought. "I was delayed a bit longer in town."

Zhao wanted to say something, but when her gaze fell on his face, she suddenly fell silent. The flickering light from the stove fire reflected the dark circles under his eyes and the new stubble on his chin. She then remembered that her son would be seventeen after the New Year.

"Have you eaten?" Her voice softened.

"not yet."

"Come inside quickly," Zhao said, urging him. "The food is warming up in the pot."

Inside the main room, an oil lamp was lit. Lu Tiezhu sat on a bench smoking a pipe, Lu Dashan was repairing a hoe handle, and his two younger sisters were picking beans under the lamp. When they saw him come in, they both looked up.

"Third Brother!" Sanya jumped up first, "Is town lively today?"

"It'll be lively." Lu Qingyan put the bundle down. "The market will be even more lively in a few days. I'll take you there."

Lu Dashan put down what he was doing: "Why are you buying paper again? We haven't finished using the last batch."

"Prepare more. The provincial examination is coming up in August."

The room fell silent for a moment when the topic of the provincial examination was brought up.

Lu Tiezhu tapped his pipe: "What did Mr. Zhang say?"

"The master said there is hope." Lu Qingyan sat down at the table. "This year's provincial examination has been postponed to August, which gives us more time to prepare."

Zhao brought in a bowl of hot porridge with a poached egg and a few slices of pickled vegetables hidden in it. She pushed the bowl in front of him: "Eat first."

Lu Qingyan was truly hungry, and he picked up the bowl and took a big gulp. The porridge was piping hot, the pickled vegetables were salty, and the poached egg yolk was still runny—this was the kind of food served only when entertaining guests at home.

"Slow down." Zhao sat down beside him and watched him eat.

After finishing a bowl of porridge, Lu Qingyan felt warm. He put down the bowl, took out a cloth bag from his pocket, and placed it on the table.

The cloth bag was opened, revealing loose silver and copper coins. The silver, weighing a little over three taels, gleamed under the oil lamp.

Lu Dashan's eyes widened: "So many?"

"The deposit for the storybooks," Lu Qingyan said. "We agreed with the publishing house that I'd get one and a half taels of silver for each book I finish. They gave me three taels so I can write two."

Zhao reached out and touched the silver, then pulled her hand back as if burned: "Writing that stuff... can you really earn that much?"

"Yes, I can." Lu Qingyan answered honestly. "There are many scholars in town who like to read stories in their spare time. The bookstore owner said that if it sells well, he will ask me to write more in the future."

Lu Tiezhu silently smoked his cigarette for a while before finally speaking: "Won't it interfere with my studies?"

"It won't delay anything." Lu Qingyan sat up straighter. "Father, Mother, I've made up my mind. I'll definitely take the provincial examination in August. If I pass, I'll become a scholar, receive a stipend, won't have to kneel before officials, and my family will be exempt from taxes. That's the most important thing right now."

He paused for a moment: "Once I become a Xiucai (a successful candidate in the county-level imperial examination), I'll go to the prefectural school to study and prepare for the provincial examination the year after next. The provincial examination is held every three years, and the real hurdle is to become a Juren (a successful candidate in the provincial-level imperial examination). The money I earn from writing novels now is enough for me to settle down in the prefectural city and for my family to have some financial ease for a while."

He spoke calmly and clearly. As Zhao listened, her eyes slowly reddened.

"I'm just worried you're overworking yourself." She wiped her eyes. "Look at you, you haven't had a moment's rest these past few months. Studying during the day and writing at night, you've even lost weight."

"Mom, it's really not tiring," Lu Qingyan softened her voice. "Writing is easier than working in the fields. Besides, I can earn money, so I feel at ease."

Lu Dashan said in a low voice, "Third brother is right. Once we become scholars, life will be much better for the family."

Lu Tiezhu finally nodded: "As long as you know what I mean."

The topic shifted to the provincial examination. Lu Qingyan mentioned his trip with Zhang Zhiqing, saying they would set off in early July and rent a house in the prefectural city for a month to prepare for the exam. Upon hearing that she would be away from home for so long, Zhao became anxious again.

"Are you staying outside? Is the food good? Who will do your laundry? What if you get sick...?"

"Mother, I'm already seventeen." Lu Qingyan said helplessly, "Mr. Zhang's family also has relatives in the prefectural city, they will take care of us. Besides, it's only for a month."

"A month is not a short time."

Finally, Lu Tiezhu spoke up: "Let him go. Boys have to go out into the world eventually."

After the meal, Lu Qingyan wanted to wash the dishes, but Zhao Shi wouldn't let him and insisted on pushing him into the house, saying, "Go read your book."

The oil lamp in the room was already lit, the wick neatly trimmed, the flame steady. On the table were a bowl of warm water and a small dish of roasted peanuts—knowing he didn't like sweets, they were replaced with savory ones.

Lu Qingyan sat down but did not write anything immediately.

The sound of Zhao Shi and Lu Dashan talking in hushed tones could be heard outside the window in the courtyard:

"Take half of your third brother's money and use it to repair the west room after the autumn harvest."

"I don't want it, my third brother needs money for his education."

"He's kept enough. All these years..."

The sound gradually faded into the distance.

As Lu Qingyan listened, his heart felt both heavy and warm.

He spread out the paper and began writing the article he needed to do that day. The topic was "The Gentleman Attains to the Fundamentals," from the Analects. The original owner of this body had written on this topic before, and he took a look—it was neatly written, but superficial. He approached the topic anew, starting with the word "fundamentals," discussing self-cultivation, family management, and then extending to governing the country. Five hundred words, a solid piece.

Only after finishing the article did he take out the draft of the storybook.

Today I should write the fourth chapter. The protagonist, Lin Xiucai, has achieved the top score in the county examination, attracting the attention of the local magistrate, but also arousing jealousy. He writes smoothly, with the plot intricately linked. Occasionally, when he pauses to think, he picks up a couple of peanuts and slowly chews them.

An hour later, he finished writing this time. He put down his pen and blew on the ink.

The moonlight outside the window was beautiful. He opened the window, and the warm breeze of late spring blew in, along with the sound of frogs croaking in the distant pond.

From the next room came Lu Tiezhu's cough, Zhao's low voice asking questions, and the sound of her younger sisters breathing soundly as they slept.

This family, though poor, is complete.

He thought of his empty apartment now, the piles of books in his study and the deserted takeout boxes. Back then, he thought it was nice, peaceful. Now, however, he felt that this kind of liveliness, this kind of connection, was also quite nice.

Very light footsteps came from outside the door. Zhao came in carrying a bowl of hot soup, with a few green vegetable leaves floating in it.

"You've been writing for so long tonight, have something hot to drink."

Lu Qingyan took the bowl: "Mother, why aren't you asleep yet?"

"I've been waiting for you." Madam Zhao sat down by the bed, watching him drink soup by the moonlight. "Yan'er, I know you have your own ideas. But the city is so far away, and you'll be all alone out there..."

"Brother Zhang, are you here together?"

"He's just a kid," Zhao sighed. "Between the two of you, who's going to take care of whom?"

After finishing his soup, Lu Qingyan put down the bowl and said, "Mother, I'm all grown up now. I can take care of myself."

After a moment of silence, Zhao suddenly said, "When your father was young, he also wanted to go out and make his way in the world. But your grandfather got sick and he couldn't go. The farthest he ever went in his life was the prefectural city."

Lu Qingyan remained silent.

"It's a good thing you can go out." Zhao stood up, took the empty bowl, and said, "Don't be like your father, who stayed in the village his whole life."

She walked to the door, then turned back: "Go to sleep early."

The door closed gently.

Lu Qingyan blew out the oil lamp and lay down. The quilt smelled of sunshine—Zhao had aired it out again today.

He closed his eyes, thinking about the provincial examination in August, about the prefectural city, and about the provincial examination the year after next.

The road ahead is long, but if we take it one step at a time, we will eventually reach our destination.

The croaking of frogs outside the window came in waves, like a lullaby to lull one to sleep.