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

February 23rd, four days before the results of the imperial examination are announced.

Lu Qingyan got up early as usual, washed up, and sat in the courtyard to read. The morning breeze was still chilly, so he put on a thick coat and read "Collected Annotations of Zhu Xi" by the daylight.

He turned to the section on "Investigating Things to Gain Knowledge," but he couldn't concentrate. His mind was preoccupied with his conversation with Yun Shuwei yesterday, the old Duke's gaze, and Zhang Zhiqing's honest words.

Around noon, there was a knock on the courtyard gate.

Upon opening the door, they saw an unfamiliar servant boy carrying a food box.

"Master Lu, this is what my young lady sent." The servant handed over the food box, saying, "She said it's to thank you for saving me that day."

The food box was an ordinary bamboo woven box, but it was filled to the brim. Lu Qingyan took it, thanked him, and the servant bowed and left.

Back inside, I opened the food box. The top layer contained several kinds of pastries: pea flour cake, jujube paste cake, and sesame brittle, all from famous shops in the capital. The bottom layer was a small stew pot; lifting the lid revealed steaming hot chicken soup.

Lu Qingyan was stunned.

He hadn't expected Yun Shuwei to bring him food.

He ladled himself a bowl of soup and sipped it slowly. The soup was thick and flavorful, and the chicken was tender and juicy, clearly the soup had been prepared with care.

Just then, Zhang Zhiqing arrived. He smelled the delicious aroma as soon as he entered: "Oh, Brother Lu, you've improved your meals?"

"It was a gift from Miss Yun," Lu Qingyan said truthfully.

Zhang Zhiqing's eyes lit up, and he leaned closer to look: "Pea flour cake! This place's pastries aren't cheap." He picked up a piece of jujube paste cake and took a bite. "Mmm, sweet but not cloying. Brother Lu, this is a good omen."

Lu Qingyan didn't reply and continued drinking her soup.

Zhang Zhiqing didn't stand on ceremony and took another piece of sesame pastry: "Brother Lu, do you know what it means when a woman brings food to a man?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's a gesture of goodwill," Zhang Zhiqing said earnestly. "Miss Yun is telling you that she doesn't dislike you, and may even be somewhat accepting of you."

Lu Qingyan put down his soup bowl: "Brother Zhang is overthinking it."

"I didn't think too much about it," Zhang Zhiqing said with a smile. "I've been there. When my mother gave my father an embroidered handkerchief, that was the same idea."

Lu Qingyan glanced at him: "Brother Zhang, are you engaged?"

"It was arranged last year." Zhang Zhiqing said a little embarrassedly, "She's a girl from the neighboring village. She's virtuous, but I've only met her a few times."

The two talked for a while longer. Zhang Zhiqing asked about the examination essays, and the two compared their answers to a few questions, finding some differences. They were both a little uneasy, but quickly felt relieved—the exam was over, and there was no point in thinking about it too much.

After seeing Zhang Zhiqing off, Lu Qingyan looked at the food box, thought for a moment, put away the pastries, and washed the stew pot.

Then spread out the paper and grind the ink.

You should return the favor.

But what should he give back? He was just a poor scholar, with nothing of note. He couldn't afford expensive things, and he was afraid of being impolite if he gave something cheap.

After thinking for a moment, he picked up his brush and wrote a piece of calligraphy.

It's a line from the Book of Songs: "Now that I have seen the gentleman, how can I not be happy?"

The characters were in neat, regular script, each stroke precise and elegant. He blew on the ink to dry it, carefully folded the letter, and placed it in an envelope.

In the afternoon, while copying books at the bookstore, he stopped by the side gate of the Duke's mansion. The gatekeeper recognized him and greeted him with a smile, "Scholar Lu has arrived?"

"Please pass this letter on to Miss Yun." Lu Qingyan handed over the envelope. "Tell her that you appreciate the pastries."

The doorman took it: "Okay, I'll definitely deliver it."

At the Duke's mansion, Yun Shuwei was embroidering when she received the letter.

The maid handed over the letter: "Miss, it was sent by Scholar Lu."

Yun Shuwei put down her embroidery frame and took the letter. The envelope was very ordinary, the cheapest kind you could find in a bookstore. She opened it and took out the letter.

There was only one line of text on the paper, written in neat and powerful handwriting.

"Now that I have seen you, how could I not be happy?"

She paused, then her face suddenly felt hot.

She had read this poem before; it was from the poem "Wind and Rain" in the Book of Songs. It means: Now that I have seen you, how can I not be happy?

Is this his way of responding to her dessert?

Or are you talking about something else?

She looked at the letter again and again, then carefully folded it and put it at the bottom of her dressing case.

"Cui'er," she called to her maid, "go and bring me my pair of knee pads."

"Is Miss giving this away?"

"Hmm." Yun Shu thought for a moment, "Wrap it in blue cloth, don't make it too conspicuous."

Cui'er responded and left.

Yun Shuwei picked up the embroidery hoop again, but she couldn't get the stitches going. The stitches were crooked, so she unraveled them and started over, but they were crooked again.

She simply put it down and walked to the window.

Outside the window, the plum trees in the yard have sprouted new buds, which are tender and green.

In the evening, Lu Qingyan returned from the bookstore and found a small bundle hanging on the doorknob of the courtyard.

When you take it off and open it, you'll find a pair of knee pads. They're made of blue cloth with fine stitches and are filled with cotton, making them soft to the touch.

There was also a note with neat handwriting: "It's cold, please keep warm."

There was no signature, but he knew who it was.

Lu Qingyan stood there for a while with the knee pads in her hand, then went inside and tried them on. They fit perfectly and were warm to wear.

He sat down and continued copying the book. His wrists were supported by the soft, comfortable knee pads.

When copying the phrase "A fair maiden is sought after by a gentleman," the pen paused for a moment.

He shook his head and continued writing.

That night, Yun Chengzong returned from the yamen and went directly to Wang's room.

"Master is back?" Madam Wang greeted him and helped him change his clothes.

"Hmm." Yun Chengzong sat down. "Did you see Lu Qingyan today?"

"No. But Weiwei sent him some snacks, and he replied with a letter."

Yun Chengzong raised an eyebrow: "What did you write?"

Wang handed him the copied poem. Yun Chengzong looked at it, remained silent for a moment, and then suddenly smiled.

"This kid certainly knows how to show off his literary talent."

"What does the master think?"

"Not bad." Yun Chengzong put down the letter. "Knowing to return the favor shows he's not being unreasonable. Sending knee pads shows he's thoughtful."

He paused for a moment, then said, "The results will be released in four days. Tell Weiwei not to go out these next few days. There are a lot of people watching outside; don't let her cause any more trouble."

"I see."

Yun Chengzong suddenly remembered something: "Has the second son been behaving himself lately?"

Madam Wang's eyes turned cold: "Behave yourself. Aunt Liu is staying indoors, and the second branch of the family is also quiet."

"It's unusually quiet," Yun Chengzong said. "Keep a close eye on it. This matter can't be left like this."

"I know."

The couple chatted for a while, mostly about trivial matters of the household. Finally, Yun Chengzong sighed, "Weiwei will likely suffer if she marries into that family."

"I'm not afraid of hardship," Wang said softly. "What I fear is inner suffering. I think Lu Qingyan is a sensible person. If Weiwei can come to terms with it, she can live a good life."

Yun Chengzong nodded and said nothing more.

Outside the window, the night was deep.

The lights in each courtyard of the Duke's mansion gradually went out, leaving only the lanterns of the night patrol women swaying under the eaves, casting flickering shadows.

In that small courtyard in the south of the city, the oil lamp burned until 9 PM.

Lu Qingyan finished copying the last page of the book, put down his pen, and rubbed his wrist.

The knee pads are soft and warm.

He blew out the light and lay down.