Chapter 44: Three Generations Barred from the Imperial Examinations

Previously, the shop had always been locked from the outside. Yesterday, however, Su Yi’an and the others had bolted it from the inside when they left.

A small change—but one only noticeable to those who frequented the place daily.

The man at the shop’s entrance, finding nothing of interest inside, gave a dismissive wave and turned to leave.

Unexpectedly, he found four people standing behind him, their large bamboo baskets clearly marking them as more than casual passersby.

Su Yi’an paid him no mind. She didn’t need to guess—she already knew who he was.

With just a glance, she led the others through the main gate and into the courtyard.

He Xingchen, visiting for the first time, found everything novel, especially the swing hanging from the tree. He kept touching it until, finally, he sat down.

“Do you like it?” Su Yi’an asked, giving the swing a gentle push and stepping aside.

He Xingchen nodded. “I do.”

“Then you can play on it later. First, choose one of these two rooms.” The two northern rooms were still unoccupied, and Su Yi’an let him take a look.

To He Xingchen, either room would have been fine—but he was too afraid to sleep alone.

“Auntie,” he said hesitantly, remembering his grandmother’s words, “I’m scared to sleep by myself. Can I stay in your room?”

Su Yi’an was caught off guard. She hadn’t considered that. At the He residence, He Xingchen had always shared a room with either Wan Xu or Madam He. It was no wonder he felt uneasy in a new place.

Before she could respond, He Yunhuai chimed in, “Then you can sleep with me.”

When he saw his beloved aunt nod in agreement, He Xingchen reluctantly gathered his things and brought them to his uncle’s room.

They picked the room with a table and chairs so that He Xingchen would have a place to study after school.

The rest of the tasks were minor, and everything was finished before noon.

Still, they lacked several essentials for opening the Zhao Family Eatery: tables and chairs for the shop, tableware, and account books.

Just thinking about the list made it clear—there was still a long way to go. Gathering everything would take more than a day or two.

Opening a small eatery was no easy task.

“Does this mean we can’t open tomorrow?” He Ningwen asked, disappointed. She had thought they could launch on the Lantern Festival and make a good profit.

Su Yi’an emptied her purse onto the table, separating the silver from the copper coins.

“That’s exactly three taels of silver, six hundred and twenty-five copper coins, and about three qian of broken silver.” After renting the shop, this was all she had left.

She had already inquired about the tuition fees at the town’s private school. For a boy He Xingchen’s age, who had yet to take the imperial examinations, the annual fee was two taels of silver.

After paying that, they would have less than two taels remaining.

“We don’t necessarily need new tables and benches,” Su Yi’an said, carefully calculating. “We can check if any eateries are selling their old ones. We only need two or three tables.” She budgeted every expense down to the last copper coin.

To save money, He Songyuan had painstakingly whittled chopsticks at home, using bamboo for as many as he could.

Su Yi’an handed He Yunhuai two taels and two qian of silver. “You’re familiar with the process,” she said. “Take him to pay the tuition later. I heard school starts in a few days, so don’t delay.”

She added the extra two qian just in case the fee had gone up after the New Year.

He Xingchen suddenly felt guilty. The family’s savings were already tight, and now half of it would be spent on him. Maybe he should stay and help his aunt at the shop instead.

Too young to hide his thoughts, his face gave him away.

“Focus on your studies,” Su Yi’an said gently. “Your aunt’s counting on you to earn us a four-courtyard mansion someday.” She was half-joking; a four-courtyard house would cost a fortune. In her memory, even the original owner’s parents had only lived in a three-courtyard home.

Feeling like he’d just been entrusted with a grand mission, He Xingchen straightened up. “Okay!” he chirped.

As He Yunhuai led him toward the private school, He Xingchen remained caught up in dreams of four-courtyard mansions.

“Uncle,” he asked, tilting his small face upward, his clear eyes sparkling, “was the courtyard we used to live in a four-courtyard home?”

He only remembered that it had been large, with a bamboo pavilion where his mother would sit in summer to admire the flowers.

He Yunhuai ruffled his hair. “Are you serious about buying a four-courtyard house? If so, you’ll have to study hard.”

Only merchants or officials could afford such homes—but merchants, being of lower status, weren’t allowed to live in them.

“I will,” He Xingchen said solemnly. “I’ll study hard so our whole family can live in a four-courtyard house one day.”

“Alright,” He Yunhuai said with a strained smile. The boy’s words stirred memories of his own younger self, full of similar dreams. When did I stop dreaming like that?

The private school was just ahead, its gates wide open. Students and parents streamed in.

He Yunhuai led He Xingchen into the crowd. As someone exited, he stepped aside. As they passed, he overheard the man mutter, “It’s your fault. If you hadn’t become an opera singer, our son wouldn’t be barred from school.”

He Yunhuai frowned, his mind drifting to his father.

His father had died in prison—under the law, that meant three generations of their family were barred from taking the imperial examinations. How could I forget?

But they were already at the school gates. Turning back now would be awkward.

“Uncle, what’s wrong?” He Xingchen asked, looking up when he noticed He Yunhuai had stopped.

“Nothing,” he replied, guiding the boy inside.

The tutor glanced at their household registration and asked what books He Yunhuai had studied. Satisfied with the fluent answers, he wrote down He Xingchen’s name.

He Yunhuai let out a breath of relief. Perhaps because this was a private academy, the tutor hadn’t asked too many questions. But the imperial examinations would be far stricter—they’d investigate three generations.

He would need to find time to visit the Prefectural City. After the incident in Eternal Sun Village, he had returned in a rush. The case was still unresolved. There might still be a chance to clear his father’s name.

The group split up. He Yunhuai took He Xingchen to school, while Su Yi’an and her sister went to buy tables and benches.

After visiting four or five shops, they finally found what they needed.

The shop had once been a restaurant, but the new owner planned to open a fabric store. The tables and benches were now surplus.

Chopping them for firewood would be wasteful, but selling them wouldn’t bring much. When a buyer finally showed up, she was a tough bargainer.

“I really can’t go any lower,” the shopkeeper said, dry-mouthed from haggling. “These might be old, but they’re still solid.” When does the seller work harder than the buyer?

Su Yi’an considered it. New tables and benches would cost at least two taels. Getting six sets for one tael was a good deal.

“Alright, one tael it is. But there’s a lot to move—can you help us deliver them?” Worried he’d say no, she added, “When we open, we’ll reserve a special seat just for you.”

As it happened, the shop had extra workers that day, so delivery wasn’t an issue.

“Very well. If I ever visit, save me a spot,” the shopkeeper replied politely. A restaurant that buys used furniture—why would I eat there?

Luckily, the two shops were nearby. One person could carry six stacked stools, and each table could be moved alone.

Everything was delivered in a single trip.

“Oh, is the Zhao Family Eatery moving?” asked passersby when they saw the procession.

“Auntie, we’re not the Zhao Family Eatery,” Su Yi’an replied. “But we’ll be opening our own eatery soon—just up ahead. Come try our food!”

The woman chuckled. “Alright, alright. You’d better give your auntie a discount when I come!”

Su Yi’an grinned. “Just come!”

By nightfall, she had bought all the necessary supplies: rice, flour, meat, and seasonings.

After so many errands, her purse was nearly empty.

Seeing how tired she was, He Yunhuai went to the kitchen. Under intense pressure from the two children, he gave up on making 疙瘩汤 (noodle soup).

He lit the stove, rinsed the rice, and let it simmer. While it cooked, he sliced a small plate of pickled vegetables and half a sausage. That would be their dinner.

Everyone was exhausted, but even this simple meal smelled wonderful.

He Ningwen let out a satisfied burp. “Second Brother, today’s dinner was way better than last time!”

He Yunhuai: …

That night, Su Yi’an collapsed into bed, exhausted.

After sleeping on an earthen kang for so long, lying on a proper bed felt strange. Even with thick quilts, the sensation was completely different.

He Ningwen, in the next room, felt the same.

She had grown used to sleeping beside Sister Su. Now, the room was dark, and the empty space beside her felt cold.

She couldn’t sleep. Her mind searched for an excuse, until she remembered something He Xingchen had said.

That’s right. I’m only six years older than him. Even I’m scared to sleep alone.

Without hesitation, He Ningwen grabbed her quilt, pillow, and thick coat, then hurried out.

“Sister Su, are you asleep?” she whispered, knocking gently.

Su Yi’an quickly opened the door. Seeing He Ningwen without her coat, her hands icy cold, she pulled her inside.

“I’m scared to sleep alone,” He Ningwen confessed before she could even be asked.

Su Yi’an smiled helplessly and let her crawl into bed.

With a familiar presence beside her, both girls quickly drifted off.

They slept soundly through the night.

The next morning was the Lantern Festival. Before dawn, the alley was already filled with street vendors’ cries.

Su Yi’an woke early and, with nothing to do, began swinging on the swing.

She closed her eyes, letting the wind brush her cheeks.

The swing gradually slowed. Just as she was about to open her eyes, someone gently pushed from behind.

The swing rose and fell again, steady and rhythmic. She didn’t need to kick off—the person behind her kept it going.

Su Yi’an squinted, a soft smile forming on her lips. The wind seemed to smooth away her worries. For a moment, she felt like a carefree child again.

He Yunhuai had never seen her smile like this—so free and lighthearted.