Chapter 50: Longing

Chapter 50: Yearning

At home, Wen Xi couldn't stop worrying about Yan Fengan, while at the academy, Yan Fengan also constantly thought of him.

A man newly acquainted with love could no longer keep his heart completely unruffled; no matter how earnestly he studied, his thoughts would sometimes drift.

Yan Fengan tucked a piece of paper into his book, on which he had drawn Wen Xi from memory. Whenever he grew tired of studying, he would take it out and steal a glance.

His painting skill was nothing to sneeze at—a few simple strokes captured Wen Xi's essence perfectly on paper.

A group of classmates passed by his and Fang Mutian's dormitory and saw him sitting quietly by his small desk. Lu Xiuyuan, at the front, suddenly raised his hand to signal them to be quiet.

"Oh, what a bashful little beauty we have here."

Yan Fengan snapped back to attention and tried to put the portrait away, but Lu Xiuyuan snatched it quickly and said in that snide tone of his, "I thought Xiucai Yan was hiding in his room studying hard, but it turns out he's secretly pining for love."

The others crowded around at this, jostling each other and craning their necks to look at the portrait.

"Who's this pretty boy? He's really good-looking."

"Xiucai Yan acts all pure and detached, but behind closed doors he's secretly painting someone's likeness—what a sneak."

"Good thing it's just a portrait. If it were something else, the great scholar would surely wish the ground would swallow him up."

The group nudged each other and made faces, deliberately throwing out jabs, waiting to see him lose his temper.

Any other guy might not have gotten angry, but would've turned red and stumbled over his words.

Yan Fengan, however, didn't even flinch. He took the portrait back from Lu Xiuyuan and said, bold as brass, "This is my husband. We've been apart for a while, and I missed him, so I painted this to look at."

He folded the portrait and put it back in his book, as if he hadn't noticed the mockery in their words: "He is indeed handsome. I'll take that as a compliment."

Lu Xiuyuan was caught off guard. He had meant to humiliate him, but the man was so matter-of-fact about it that it made his whole little stunt look ridiculous.

The others glanced at each other, unsure what to say.

Just as the tension grew, Fang Mutian, his roommate, stepped in to smooth things over: "Brother Yan got married without inviting us classmates to a drink—that's really not cool."

A group of scholars never missed a chance to pile on, and they immediately chimed in: "Exactly, exactly! Not cool at all! You owe us a wedding banquet later."

Yan Fengan's expression softened a bit, and the corners of his mouth curved up as he said, "I happened to be ill around the time of the wedding, so the ceremony was kept simple, and I didn't want to make a fuss. Next time I return, I'll bring you all some wedding candy."

"That's more like it."

That broke the tension, and the classmates chatted and laughed, some egging him on to bring more, others asking where his husband was from and whether he was really as handsome as in the portrait.

Yan Fengan responded to each with a grin, and you'd never guess he wasn't always this charming and gracious.

Lu Xiuyuan stood off to the side, silent, watching these people treat Yan Fengan like a brother. It stuck in his craw, and he shot them a dirty look.

He had come all this way just to watch Yan Fengan embarrass himself, but the matter had been resolved in a few words, making his whole little show look like a joke. Lu Xiuyuan huffed and stormed off.

Once he left, the group that had followed him quickly dispersed as well.

The dormitory quieted down. Fang Mutian was a good-natured, chatty guy, and since Yan Fengan was no longer as standoffish and cold as before, the two had gotten along quite well recently.

Once the others were far away, Fang Mutian said, "I reckon it's because you no longer go..." He had meant to say "kiss up," but thought better of it and quickly corrected himself, "You don't tag along after him like you used to, so he's feeling sore."

Yan Fengan said, "He used to think I was annoying. Isn't it better that I stay out of his way?"

Fang Mutian chuckled and said, "These rich kids are used to being the ones who ice people out. When you suddenly distance yourself, how could he feel comfortable about that?"

Yan Fengan smiled too and said, "My scholarship and living allowance aren't secured yet. I don't have time to coddle these rich boys. Whether he's comfortable or not is none of my concern. I only know that if I don't rank first-class, I won't be comfortable, and my future won't be easy either."

"Fair point, fair point. I need to study hard alongside you."

Fang Mutian's family wasn't wealthy either, and the academy's meal money and living stipend were tied to exam performance. He also wanted to earn more each month.

While the two in the dormitory were working hard for their stipends, the group that had just left was muttering among themselves: "How is this man different from before? He never had this kind of backbone before."

"Exactly. He used to call Brother Lu his bosom friend all the time and invite him out to restaurants in town every few days. Now he's like a different person—every day he's just a bookworm studying and writing, barely socializing with us anymore."

"Last time I invited him to our poetry gathering, he refused, saying he needed to review his lessons. It's like he's trying to cut ties with us."

"He's really getting above himself. Never mind how he used to fawn over Brother Lu—now he's acting all high and mighty. Brother Lu said he's not worth getting close to, and he was right."

Lu Xiuyuan was a big deal at Lingyun Academy. His father was one of the biggest salt merchants in the county, with his fingers in most of the county's salt trade. Word had it that his household was full of servants and he was rolling in money. Not only that, but he supposedly had an uncle serving as a fourth-rank official in the capital. Who in the entire academy wouldn't show him some respect?

Take Yan Fengan, for example. The man was naturally withdrawn, cold to everyone, and disliked socializing. Yet even he would suck up to Lu Xiuyuan. Despite his family being poorer than even Lu's servants, he still tried to flash his money around, regularly treating Lu Xiuyuan to meals and entertainment.

Although Lu Xiuyuan's father often called him a waste of space, he wasn't foolish enough to fail to recognize insincerity.

Someone like Yan Fengan, whose motives were so obvious and intentions so clear, was someone he genuinely looked down on, and he rarely gave him a kind word.

After returning to school this term, Yan Fengan had completely changed his ways—no more socializing, no more hovering around him. All day, besides attending classes, he stayed in the dormitory reading. Lu Xiuyuan was somewhat puzzled.

Today he had finally found an opportunity and wanted to mock him, but Yan Fengan's perfectly poised attitude had nearly made him look like a fool.

Listening to the group's chatter, Lu Xiuyuan coldly tossed out: "As long as he doesn't bother me, I don't care whether he changes or not."

For someone who disliked socializing and was devoted to studying, life at the academy was quite dull.

The coursework at Lingyun Academy wasn't what outsiders imagined—it wasn't as if instructors watched over students from morning to night with classes all day. The headmaster and the juren lecturers gave major lectures once every three days; the rest of the time, students studied and researched on their own. When they encountered questions they couldn't solve, they could seek clarification, and they could also submit their essays for feedback and suggestions.

The remaining time was mostly spent memorizing texts, writing essays, practicing calligraphy, or privately hosting poetry gatherings and regular literary meetings.

Yan Fengan divided his daily schedule into blocks: mornings were for organizing notes and reviewing what the lecturers had taught; afternoons were for reading the classics and histories, marking passages he didn't understand, first discussing them with classmates like Fang Mutian, and only going to the headmaster if they still couldn't figure it out.

After nearly two months of hard study, the examination he had both anticipated and dreaded finally arrived.

Logically, having already passed the xiucai exam, Yan Fengan shouldn't have been nervous about such a small affair. But perhaps because it had been many years since he'd taken an exam, his hand trembled slightly when he first picked up his brush.

He skimmed through the questions on the paper, gradually gaining confidence. Taking a deep breath to clear his mind of distractions, he began to answer seriously.

After the exam, Fang Mutian asked how he had done. Yan Fengan didn't dare to be overconfident and only said, "Not bad, I suppose. At least I finished everything."

Fang Mutian patted him on the shoulder and said nothing more.

On the day results were posted, the notice wall outside the lecture hall was packed with people. Though he was eager to know his score, Yan Fengan stood quietly at the edge, not pushing his way in.

As he waited for the crowd to thin, Fang Mutian burst out of the crowd excitedly, shouting at him: "First-class, first-class! Brother Yan, you ranked first-class!"

His voice was loud, drawing glances from everyone around them.

Hearing this result, the heavy weight on Yan Fengan's heart finally lifted. He smiled and said, "Heaven rewards the diligent. Brother Fang, how did you do?"

Fang Mutian smiled modestly: "Same as you—I also ranked first-class."

Besides the two of them, several others had also achieved first-class. They congratulated each other, drawing sour looks from many around them.

Lu Xiuyuan, standing nearby, watched his own name followed by a fourth-class rank, his face scrunched up in worry. When he got home, his father would surely ask about his exam results, and if he learned he'd scored a fourth-class, he'd probably blow his top and bring out the family discipline.

Yan Fengan's smile rubbed him the wrong way, and he said sourly to those beside him, "I remember his grades used to be middling at best—even scraping a third-class was a big deal for him. So how'd he suddenly land a first-class this time?"

"Exactly. When I first heard he was a Xiucai, I figured he must be pretty sharp, but turns out his scores were barely any better than ours. We even joked back then that his scholar title was a joke, like maybe he'd pulled some strings to get it."

"Did he cheat?"

Another wealthy young man named Lin Wenhong said, "Why'd anyone need to cheat on a little test like this? He studies with Fang Mutian every day—how could he not do well? Not like you guys, scoring a fourth-class and not even being embarrassed."

Lu Xiuyuan shot back, "As if you didn't score a fourth-class yourself."

Lin Wenhong waved his fan smugly and said, "Sorry to burst your bubble, but I got a third-class."

Lu Xiuyuan glanced at his name and thought, damn, that bastard really did get a third-class.

Now it was even worse—he couldn't even outdo Lin Wenhong. There was no way he was dodging a beating when he got home.

After the exam results came out, Yan Fengan went to see Supervisor Liang, who'd already gotten the dean's notice and had the silver ready. As soon as Yan Fengan arrived, he clicked away on his abacus and went through the accounts line by line.

"Including the half-year suspension and these two months, we owe you four taels of stipend. The lamp-and-fire fee only covers time you're at the academy, five qian per month. You've been here two months, so that comes to one tael."

"You know the academy's reward system: first-class in the exam earns two taels, second-class one tael, third-class five qian, and nothing below third-class. So stipend, lamp-and-fire fee, plus the exam bonus, that's seven taels total. Is that correct?"

That was even more than Yan Fengan had expected, and he nodded, "Correct."

Supervisor Liang handed him the weighed silver: "Stash it somewhere safe. Don't go losing that much money."

Yan Fengan placed the silver into his pouch and bowed to Supervisor Liang: "Thank you, teacher."

Supervisor Liang, who was usually all business, cracked a smile: "Well done. Keep up the good work."

Yan Fengan nodded and smiled: "I will."

Once he was out of the supervisor's office, the guy who'd been holding it in finally touched his pouch and broke into a big grin.

After taking out what he'd spent on meals and paper and ink over the past two months, he had about four taels left. With the Qingming Festival holiday in two days, he'd take this four taels home, which should put a smile on Wen Xi's face.

The academy was giving three days off for Qingming Festival, and many students from rural areas would return home to visit family during this time.

The academy was thoughtful about the students from far away, so on the day before the holiday, they let the students pack up and head out after noon.

With all the farm work this season, his family had no idea when the academy would let out, so no one came to pick up Yan Fengan.

Fang Mutian was from the same town, and they agreed to head home together. After entering the city, Yan Fengan suddenly remembered that his storybook with the new afterword hadn't had a new installment in a while, so he made an excuse to part ways with Fang Mutian and headed to Wencui Pavilion.

Manager Yang got warmer with him every single visit. Li Er led him upstairs, and Manager Yang greeted with a smile: "I was thinking of stopping by your place, but figured you'd be at the academy, so I delayed contacting you."

Yan Fengan said, "You guessed right, I am indeed studying. It's been so long—how has my storybook been selling?"

Manager Yang had tea served to him and, beaming, brought out a ledger: "It's selling like hotcakes. Look, I've kept records here—since before the new year, we've moved over four hundred more copies."

Yan Fengan glanced over it, noticed the words "newly engraved, expanded edition," and asked, "You reprinted the book?"

Manager Yang said, "With a new postscript, I naturally had to reprint it. The previous edition sold out, so I simply modified the printing blocks, carving the postscript in and printing it together."

Yan Fengan didn't care much about how the bookshop operated. He took a sip of tea and said thoughtfully, "With new printing blocks, your costs went up. So for these four hundred reprints, I'd only get a cut from two hundred again?"

He wasn't the type to be all about money, but he'd still fight for what was coming to him.

Manager Yang, being a merchant, understood the principle of business better than anyone: "We're old pals now; I'm not gonna shortchange you. The reprint was our call, nothing to do with you. Since we agreed you'd get a cut after the first two hundred sold, the next four hundred will be settled fair and square."

The reprint was still in paperback with no price increase. The bookshop sold four hundred and eight copies, and Yan Fengan's share came to five thousand three hundred and four wen.

Since hauling around that many copper coins was a pain, Manager Yang gave him a small five-tael silver ingot and the remaining three hundred-plus in copper coins.

Yan Fengan took the silver, cupped his hands, and said, "Thank you, Manager Yang."

"No problem, Scholar Yan. Your storybook has sold well. Aside from what's already printed, we won't be selling any more. You got any plans for a new one?"

Yan Fengan had thought about this too, and after a moment he said, "I do, but with all the coursework at the academy, it might be a while before I can write it."

"The provincial exam's coming up, so your studies should come first. But if you ever write a new one, make sure you bring it to Wencui Pavilion first."

Yan Fengan smiled and said, "Working with you, Manager Yang, is easy and a pleasure. Unless your shop stops taking my work, I won't consider selling it elsewhere."

Manager Yang was delighted. Yan Fengan's writing had more spark than most, and if he kept at it, he figured he could one day write a real hit.

After sealing the deal with Manager Yang, Yan Fengan used some pocket change to grab some snacks, then headed home with the silver he'd made over the past few days.