Chapter Twenty-Two: Entanglement

The fifteenth day of August marked the opening of the imperial examinations in Jiangnan. Yet before that, the Emperor would select a day in late July for the sons of court officials to undergo an examination for hereditary appointments, bestowing positions upon the most outstanding. These posts were generally nominal, granted merely to provide these scions with a proper background—a gesture of imperial grace. On the eve of the examination, the Ministry of Rites would gather the sons of officials in the Hall of Eminent Scholars at the Imperial Academy for a first round of selection—imperial favor was not so easily attained.

Qin Muchuan spent a day recuperating at home; though his left hand still tingled with numbness, it was much improved from yesterday. Linglong peeled grapes, offering one to Gu Qiulan, who then fed it to Qin Muchuan. Linglong was rather disgruntled, regretting her eagerness to take on this task.

"My dear," she said, "when I went to greet Mother this morning, I found her in good spirits. It seems something fortunate has happened."

"Something good?" Qin Muchuan glanced at his left hand, then recalled his bruised backside... Whatever it was, he resolved not to leave the house for a while! Absolutely not!

Gu Qiulan, seeing his troubled expression, was about to offer comfort when Steward Zhao approached with two young attendants. Qin Muchuan shuddered—he couldn't recall having done anything wrong today!

Steward Zhao greeted him amiably. Qin Muchuan quickly helped him up. "Uncle Zhao, it’s nearly noon. Won’t you rest a while?"

Steward Zhao chuckled, "No need to worry, young master. The Duke has sent me to summon you to Snowpine Hall."

"Did Father mention what it was about?" Qin Muchuan instinctively took a step back, feeling he had bumped into something. Turning, he saw that Gu Qiulan had risen, and suddenly her hand gripped his tightly.

"Uncle Zhao, what is so mysterious that you won't say a word?" Gu Qiulan shifted slightly, subtly shielding Qin Muchuan.

Seeing the young couple so guarded, Steward Zhao couldn't help but smile. "No need to worry, young master and mistress. It’s a good matter. Just come with me, young master. If Mistress is concerned, she may go to Madam first."

Qin Muchuan and Gu Qiulan exchanged glances, then straightened their backs. He was a man after all; how could he hide behind his wife? A surge of tragic heroism rose within him, and he waved his hand boldly, "Lead the way!"

Arriving at Snowpine Hall, Qin Muchuan stood quietly, uneasy and hesitant. The Duke of Qin, seeing his son’s timid demeanor, felt his good mood darken.

Qin Muchuan stole a glance at his father’s face, as stern as ever, betraying no emotion. He braced himself for the worst; at most, another beating.

The Duke of Qin, seasoned from decades on the battlefield and at court, knew well what had happened despite Gu Qiulan’s attempts at concealment. The events of the previous day were witnessed by too many: Physician Ning had visited Mingyue Pavilion, and word had spread.

"You unfilial child, sneaking out again to consort with riffraff! You’ve learned nothing!" Qin Muchuan hung his head lower. He’d only wanted to save Sun Ruosi, who’d sold his mother’s dowry—a disaster too great to ignore. As a brother, he couldn’t stand by. Who would have thought it was all a trap set for revenge on Sun Ruosi, and he, Qin Muchuan, was merely collateral damage—pure misfortune.

Still, it was best to stay silent; more words meant more mistakes.

Suppressing his anger, the Duke of Qin resolved to get it over with and send the boy away. Even a moment more in his presence felt like it shortened his life.

"Perhaps it’s the blood I’ve spilled in this lifetime that brought me this son to repay my karmic debts! Other families’ sons bring honor, top the lists, and relieve their fathers of worry. But you—since you are my son, I must plan for your future, so that when I pass, you won’t remain a commoner. On the seventeenth of July, the Ministry of Rites will hold the hereditary appointment examination at the Imperial Academy. I’ve already spoken to your father-in-law; just don’t disgrace me, answer the questions properly!"

Qin Muchuan looked up in astonishment, momentarily forgetting his fear. "The day after tomorrow? How… how can…"

"What are you trying to say?!" The Duke’s roar silenced him.

"I’ve always told you to study diligently and avoid trouble. Did you listen? The day after tomorrow—so what? With your dull mind, even ten more years of study would be useless! Fortunately, you were born into a good family, and I found you an excellent in-law. Your father-in-law assures me that as long as you don’t make a grave error, you’ll pass this examination."

Qin Muchuan nodded sheepishly.

Impatient, the Duke waved him away. "Go on, get out! A pretty face stuffed with cotton—yet so conceited. How did the founder of the nation end up with such a son? Ah!"

Only after leaving Snowpine Hall did Qin Muchuan feel his left hand ache again. Remembering his father’s words, he felt somewhat relieved—luckily, it was his left hand that was injured, or the reprimand would have been far worse.

The seventeenth of July arrived swiftly.

As the Ministry of Rites was hosting the examination at the Imperial Academy, Gu Qiulan mentioned to Lady Zhou that she hadn’t seen Lord Gu in some time. Lady Zhou agreed to accompany her, carefully instructing the maids and attendants not to let outsiders infringe upon her.

Gu Qiulan sat in the carriage, watching the passing crowd—sons of officials all dressed in splendid attire. Qin Muchuan, tall and handsome, outshone them all, as if he alone existed in the world. "Ah, what a pity. The examination is about scholarship; why can’t Father change the questions to a beauty contest?"

"Don’t worry, Miss," Qiaoyun replied, unconcerned. "Just because he’s our son-in-law, Master will ensure your beautiful man passes."

Qin Muchuan, anxious, entered the Hall of Eminent Scholars. Before leaving home, the Duke had repeatedly admonished him: simply write honest essays praising the Emperor. Suddenly, his shoulder was tapped, startling him—luckily, he managed not to cry out. Turning, he saw a somewhat unfamiliar figure standing behind him.

The man greeted him with gentle courtesy. "Brother Qin, it’s been a long time."

Qin Muchuan puzzled for a moment before recognizing him. "Ah, Brother Zhou!" To run into Zhou Tianyou now—misfortune upon misfortune!

Zhou Tianyou was paler than most, clad in sky-blue brocade, as elegant as a willow in misty rain, beauty unmatched.

"Your left hand seems unwell, Brother Qin. Today’s examination will be arduous," Zhou Tianyou said with a smile.

"It’s nothing—my right hand is fine," Qin Muchuan replied, waving his arm to show he was unharmed.

"That’s good. You…" Zhou Tianyou covered his mouth and stepped back, as if suppressing a cough.

Qin Muchuan remembered that Zhou’s health had always been frail, and he’d spent much time recuperating at home. Even if he passed the examination, he’d only receive a leisure post. Yet Zhou Tianyou’s scholarship was renowned in the capital—truly, fate was cruel to talent. Thinking of Sun Ruosi’s ruin after offending him, Qin Muchuan shivered. Best not to get involved; he hurried toward the examination hall.

Outside the Imperial Academy, Gu Qiulan shivered suddenly.

"What’s wrong?" Qiaoyun asked.

Gu Qiulan looked at her hands. "Doesn’t today’s almanac say it’s inauspicious to go out? Why do I feel something is amiss?"

"Well…" Qiaoyun was pondering when Miaomiao outside the carriage exclaimed, "Boss, have you forgotten? Your beautiful man gets beaten every time he leaves the house; of course going out is unlucky! But you’re here personally this time, so he’ll definitely be safe."

"Is that so?" Gu Qiulan’s rare uncertainty showed. "Let’s hope so."