Chapter 19 Pawning

Chapter 19: Pawnshop

Cheng Ge cautiously glanced back to make sure no one was following, letting out a small sigh of relief as he thought to himself that those people probably hadn't caught on yet.

So he slowed his pace, walking unhurriedly, and after a few twists and turns, ducked into a pawn shop.

The shop was tucked away on a quiet alley, somewhat hidden, but Cheng Ge knew the place like the back of his hand. He gently pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“Shopkeeper, how much can you give me for this robe?” Cheng Ge said, placing the outer garment on the counter.

His fingers also held a pair of boots and an undergarment, a slight look of disgust on his face.

In ancient times, pawning clothes wasn't a big deal.

Especially during years of famine, many poor people, forced by circumstance, would pawn their only garments to exchange for some grain. This was so common that pawn shops did pretty good business.

However, the markdown was usually brutal, only about thirty percent of what it was worth—and that was for expensive fabrics. For poor folks' rough linen clothes, it might only fetch a few coins.

Zhang Qingheng came from a well-to-do family, so naturally, he never lacked for silver, and his clothes were worth a pretty penny.

The experienced shopkeeper, when he felt the fabric of Zhang Qingheng’s robe, knew right away it was top-quality silk.

With cloud patterns embroidered on it, and with the boots being brand new and shiny, clearly made not long ago, the shopkeeper sized it up quick and offered a solid one hundred twenty taels.

Right then, Cheng Ge suddenly pulled a pair of wrinkled underpants from his sleeve and said offhandedly, “Oh, and pawn this too.”

The shopkeeper was stunned, his mouth twitching a little.

Seeing the shopkeeper's reaction, Cheng Ge frowned and asked, puzzled, “What? You don’t take these?”

Snapping out of it, the shopkeeper quickly replied, “We do, we do.”

He thought to himself, this young gentleman looks classy and handsome—who'd have thought he'd be so broke he'd even pawn his underpants?

Still, the shopkeeper took the underpants and gave them a good look.

The fabric was top-notch too, and though a bit wrinkled, the quality was undeniable.

“Sir, I’ll give you ten taels for the underpants. Together with the one hundred and twenty, that’s one hundred and thirty taels total,” the shopkeeper said, steadying himself, he named the price.

Cheng Ge didn't know much about this stuff and just nodded. “Alright, that works.”

After stuffing the banknotes in his pocket, he strutted out of the pawn shop, stopping on his way back to the government dorm to buy a roast chicken.

…

“No money, my breakfast is just air; no money, my pockets are empty. I need to go to work~ work~ work~”

With a big steamed bun dangling from his mouth, he hummed a worker's song, in a great mood as he headed to work.

But within half an hour of stepping into the Hanlin Academy, he started to droop.

Indeed, once you catch even a whiff of that work vibe, it's as bad as a ghost sucking the life out of a scholar.

“I'm a beast of burden, your servant, toiling in the capital, just scraping by in the Hanlin Academy, with no ambition to rise in the cabinet or the six ministries.

The court is truly despicable, making me work from five AM to six PM without rest. My dorm is crawling with perverts, and I've had to fend off little flowers three times to keep my virtue…”

Just as he was mumbling to himself, a familiar voice cut in: “Cheng Ge, what are you mumbling about over here?”

Cheng Ge looked up to see Qiao Fangxu watching him with a faint smile, looking at the paper in front of him.

The three characters “Memorial of Departure” were crooked and twisted, looking somewhat distorted.

Rubbing his eyes, Cheng Ge let out a big yawn. “Ah, Brother Qiao.”

Seeing him barely able to keep his eyes open, Qiao Fangxu couldn’t help asking, “Are you really that sleepy?”

Cheng Ge glanced upward, saw that the lecturer wasn’t around, and immediately flopped his face onto the desk.

“Of course I’m sleepy. I never get enough sleep—up earlier than the roosters, to bed later than the dogs. It’s a miracle I haven’t dropped dead…”

Qiao Fangxu thought Cheng Ge had been burning the midnight oil studying and was tired from lack of sleep, but when he asked, he found out Cheng Ge slept longer than he did, leaving him speechless.

“You all sleep so little—don’t you feel tired?” Cheng Ge yawned again, tears streaming from his eyes.

Qiao Fangxu shook his head helplessly. “I’m used to it. Except for young children, everyone follows this schedule once they start school.”

Cheng Ge waved his hand weakly, saying nothing more. Being from a noble family wasn’t easy either, with strict education for the younger generation.

“It’s not just us. Take the current emperor, for example—he rises at the Hour of the Tiger and doesn’t sleep until the Hour of the Rat. Now that’s true diligence in governing the people.”

The Hour of the Tiger is roughly 3 to 5 AM, and the Hour of the Rat is 11 PM to 1 AM—a pretty miserable schedule.

If he had to handle state affairs and then visit one or two concubines, could he even manage that?

Thinking the emperor might be impotent, staring at three thousand beauties in frustration every day, Cheng Ge couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

Qiao Fangxu found him baffling, not seeing what was so funny.

“Brother Cheng, today it’s your turn to go to the Ministry of Personnel. Too bad Qingheng isn’t here, or you’d have company.”

Cheng Ge’s face fell at the mention of the Ministry of Personnel, but at least he was relieved he wouldn’t have to go with Zhang Qingheng—that would have disgusted him.

After lunch, Cheng Ge dragged his feet reluctantly to the Ministry of Personnel.

For low-ranking officials like him, it was usually just about learning simple administrative tasks; core matters were naturally off-limits.

But the moment Cheng Ge stepped through the ministry’s gates, he sensed something was off.