Chapter 11  

Rival, Rival!  

Xijin naturally couldn’t flaunt things too openly—she was just casually paying a visit.  

She went over to Second Aunt’s place and happened to run into Xi Yu, who immediately noticed her shoes. “Sister, did your husband buy these for you?”  

Xijin: “Yes.”  

She was puzzled—how did Xi Yu know?  

Xi Yu smiled. “I ran into him on the street today and chatted for a bit. We came back together. At the time, I mentioned how nice those shoes looked—and sure enough!”  

The others didn’t pay much attention to her words, focusing instead on the shoes. They all praised how lovely they were, even Second Aunt chiming in, “See if there are any more left—we’d like a pair too.”  

But Xijin couldn’t shake the odd feeling Xi Yu’s earlier words had given her.  

So, in the middle of conversation, she suddenly asked, “Xi Yu, why have you been sticking so close to my husband lately? You’re an unmarried young lady—your reputation is precious. My husband is just a Male Matrilineal Marriage—if his reputation gets ruined, it doesn’t matter. But yours does.”  

She spoke bluntly, and the others caught on.  

Her husband had gone out to buy shoes for his wife, and here was this young lady giving her opinions—how improper!  

Under everyone’s scrutiny, Xi Yu flushed slightly, but she had, after all, lived a lifetime before.  

What did it mean to have lived a lifetime? It meant she had experienced everything and wouldn’t be bothered by such trivial matters. She was determined to pull Xijin down and take her place—she refused to live another mediocre life like her last one.  

This second chance at life had to be worth it—she would fight for it, even if it killed her!  

She believed the words she had whispered to A Chou, the things she had hinted to Xijin—they would all slowly drive a wedge between them. Eventually, their hearts would drift apart.  

And she had also put effort into Huo Erlang. There was no wall in this world that couldn’t be toppled—if it hadn’t fallen yet, it just meant she hadn’t tried hard enough!  

***********  

Xijin was pleased with her little display, but the thought of Xi Yu made her want to—  

Smack that girl into the next life.  

What kind of person was she, always eyeing someone else’s Male Matrilineal Marriage? If she had just spoken up earlier, Xijin would have gladly handed A Chou over to her!  

When she returned home, she saw A Chou with Zhou Fu, setting up ladders and stools to hang lanterns under the eaves of the courtyard. Many were already up, filling the house with a festive glow.  

Xijin leaned against the doorframe, watching A Chou.  

It was late, nearing dusk. Backlit as he stood on the ladder, the hem of his robe draped casually over the rungs, he held a lantern in one hand while steadying himself against the eaves with the other, occasionally asking Zhou Fu below if the position was right.  

The warm sunset spilled over him, and she could clearly see his refined, handsome profile.  

His lips were thin, his nose straight—from her angle, he looked exquisitely carved from jade, fair and flawless.  

If not for the faint aloofness in his expression, he would have been so perfect as to make any young lady’s heart race.  

Xijin recalled his earlier words—he certainly lived up to the “Pan and Donkey” standards.  

He appeared slender, but he was solidly built. When the mood struck at night, he could hold her up for an entire incense stick’s worth of time—just like that, over and over!  

No wonder Xi Yu had taken a liking to him, digging so tirelessly at their foundation.

Xijin thought to herself that if she had known Xi Yu’s intentions three years earlier, she would never have agreed to A Chou entering a Male Matrilineal Marriage. But now it was impossible—she and A Chou were already husband and wife, and they even had a child together.  

Their life now might not be perfect, but it was decent enough. There was no way she would give A Chou up to Xi Yu.  

Why should she?  

Besides, A Chou was so handsome and had such… assets. To be honest, she quite enjoyed them. The thought of losing him would surely break her heart.  

As she was lost in these thoughts, A Chou suddenly looked up, and their eyes met unexpectedly in the dim twilight.  

Xijin averted her gaze, turning to Mang Er while speaking to A Chou, “Are they all hung up?”  

A Chou replied, “Just the last one left by the west room.”  

With that, he jumped down from the ladder.  

His movements were agile, and as Xijin watched, her mind wandered again.  

Demons had magic, but A Chou had such strong stamina—it almost felt like he could fly.  

Just then, Mang Er came running over, holding a Rabbit Lantern, and happily exclaimed, “Mama, lantern! Bunny lantern!”  

Seeing this, Xijin took out a flint and lit it for him.  

The Rabbit Lantern had a red candle in the middle and four small wheels at the bottom. Once the candle was lit, the heat made the little ears on top spin around.  

Xijin handed the pull-string to Mang Er, who then joyfully dragged the lantern around the courtyard, toddling unsteadily as the little rabbit wobbled along behind him.  

Clapping from the side, Xijin laughed, “Mang Er walks so well! Go forward, go forward—look, your father is right ahead!”  

Mang Er, gripping the bunny’s string tightly, spotted A Chou hanging another lantern and immediately dashed forward. Seeing the candle swaying dangerously, Xijin quickly rushed over and blew it out, afraid it might catch fire.  

A Chou, who had been standing on a chair to hang the lantern, stepped down when he saw Mang Er approaching and picked the child up, amusing him by showing off the lantern.  

Watching this, Xijin turned and headed inside.  

Just then, Sun Momo happened to pass by and noticed the half-burned Rabbit Lantern. She muttered, “I say, young master, why are you lighting lanterns in broad daylight? The Rabbit Lantern is for nighttime—it’s inauspicious to light it during the day. I’ve told you this before, how come you never remember?”  

Xijin, about to step inside, overheard and snapped, “I lit it! Just to amuse the child—why so many rules?”  

Her tone was sharp, and Sun Momo froze before hastily adding, “It’s just that we don’t want to offend the gods…”  

Xijin scoffed. “The gods? You think such mighty deities would bother keeping an eye on our household? Are we the Emperor or something, worth their attention?”  

Sun Momo said, “That’s not the point. Lighting a Rabbit Lantern in the daytime is improper. If the gods find out and punish us—”  

Xijin cut her off. “If they’ve truly become gods, they should at least have some magnanimity. We’re just lighting a lantern—how does that offend them? There are plenty of real evildoers in the world—why don’t they go punish them instead of fussing over a little Rabbit Lantern? What kind of petty, small-minded gods are these? Momo, you should at least worship a decent god, not some stingy, narrow-minded deity. It’s not worth it!”  

Sun Momo: “…”

She took a deep breath and muttered shakily, “You’re right, I’m old, I’m old… I can’t keep up with young folks’ thinking these days. Times have changed…”

As she murmured this, she shuffled off toward the kitchen.

Today was the Lantern Festival, and every household was making glutinous rice balls. The two maidservants were busy at work when they heard the commotion outside. They exchanged glances before quickly lowering their heads.

Recently, Sun Momo had become increasingly talkative, and though they found it tiresome, being young, they had no choice but to endure it. Still, they faintly sensed that the mistress also disliked Sun Momo—especially now that she had publicly humiliated her.

A smug feeling crept into their hearts.

If Sun Momo were sent off to retire, they might just get their chance…

*********

At dusk, Xijin and A Chou lit lamps at the stove, made offerings, and then had their meal.

While the maids cleared up, Xijin and A Chou prepared to head out. They didn’t even need to hire a carriage—just a short walk would take them to the bustling streets.

Once they reached the main road, it was nearly impossible to move freely. The streets were packed with finely dressed crowds, and every kind of carriage filled the view as families poured out to celebrate.

A Chou carried Mang Er in his arms while holding Xijin’s hand, leading the way. After just a few steps, they arrived at a street entrance where tall bamboo poles formed a series of arched gateways, each adorned with exquisitely crafted festive lanterns.

Beaded curtains hung low, casting radiant light across the street, while the sound of pipes and strings filled the air. Passersby stopped in their tracks, drawn into the festooned lantern street to marvel at the spectacle. Laughter and chatter rose all around as people reveled in the festivities.

The family followed the crowd through the dazzling lantern tunnel, murmuring in amazement.

Mang Er had never seen anything like this. His dark eyes widened, darting everywhere, unable to take it all in.

Xijin sighed. “This year’s designs are truly unique—nothing like previous years.”

A Chou said, “This is Festooned Lantern Street. Probably inspired by Yanjing City.”

Xijin replied, “Really? I’ve heard the lantern festivals in Yanjing City are truly spectacular, nothing like our little town. If only we could see them someday.”

A Chou turned to look at her. Amid the glittering lights, her eyes sparkled with excitement and curiosity.

He said softly, “Actually, it’s not that much better. Just more lanterns, bigger lanterns.”

Xijin frowned. “What do you mean, ‘not that much better’? More and bigger lanterns make all the difference! It’s like money—more is always better than less!”

A Chou nodded. “True.”

Xijin huffed. “You always just say ‘true’!”

Seeing her pout, A Chou chuckled. “Then what should I say?”

Xijin thought for a moment but couldn’t come up with a response that would satisfy her. “Never mind, never mind. Let’s just enjoy the lanterns.”

Once they left the festooned lantern street, they saw the entire avenue aglow with decorations. Every alley and lane was lined with lanterns of all kinds, and even the government offices had their plaques illuminated by silk or glazed lanterns.

Taverns and shops hung pendant ball lanterns, accompanied by the clamor of drums and gongs to attract customers. Some even twirled lanterns on bamboo poles, making them look like shooting stars.

Xijin’s gaze darted everywhere. She noticed women of all ages wearing lanterns as hair ornaments, their heads glowing as they strolled through the crowds. The streets teemed with people, every corner ablaze with light.

As she took it all in, Xijin suddenly sighed. “The lantern shops must be making a fortune! If only our family sold lanterns during New Year!”

A Chou was momentarily taken aback before bursting into laughter. “That mind of yours!”

Xijin retorted, “Thinking about business while doing business—what’s wrong with that?”

After a pause, she continued, “I heard the Prefectural Examination results will be announced soon. If he passes this time and submits the Imperial Academy probationary student list, there’s still enough time for him to head straight to Yanjing City for the Provincial Examination.”

In Great Zhao, the imperial examinations were divided into three stages: the Prefectural Examination, Provincial Examination, and Palace Examination.

The Prefectural Examination was held annually. Passing it granted one the status of an Imperial Academy probationary student, qualifying them for the Provincial Examination, which occurred every three years in Yanjing City. Those who succeeded proceeded immediately to the Palace Examination—the final hurdle presided over by the Emperor himself, where one’s fate and future were decided. That stage, as they say, also depended on looks.

This year was a Provincial Examination year. For candidates like Si Lang, who hadn’t passed the Prefectural Examination before, the hope was to clear it now and proceed directly to the Provincial Examination. With luck, one might even advance through both stages in a single year to reach the Palace Examination—now that would be true triumph.

A Chou: “Hmm?”

Xijin: “Second Aunt mentioned today that he nearly passed the Prefectural Examination last time and is certain to succeed this round. If he does, he plans to take a batch of goods to sell in Yanjing City along the way.”

At this, she sighed. “Second Aunt will probably never stop boasting about it.”

For merchants like them, successful trade required strategizing three key aspects: sourcing goods, arranging transportation, and navigating the labyrinth of taxes along the way.

Textiles like silk and brocade faced particularly heavy taxation—both Residence Tax and transit duties. The Six-layered Brocade they’d purchased for 480 wen would end up costing over 550 wen after taxes.

Transporting goods incurred fees at every turn—water routes demanded Tollage Tax and Docking Tax, while land routes had tax stations at every checkpoint. Without the proper stamps on one’s documents, further travel became impossible.

After all these layers, keeping the final cost of 480-wen brocade at 550 wen was considered fortunate.

And this didn’t even include the Residence Tax they paid upon the goods’ arrival in Ru City.

However, if Si Lang became a Tribute Student, Great Zhao’s laws permitted examinees to carry a banner reading “Traveling by Imperial Decree.” Their cargo wouldn’t be inspected at tax stations—a privilege maintaining scholars’ dignity.

This legal provision had led to an unspoken tradition: examinees heading to the capital would carry thirty to fifty catties of local specialties hidden in their luggage. After selling these in the capital, they’d purchase rare Yanjing goods for the return trip. The profits from this back-and-forth could offset their examination expenses—sometimes even turning a tidy sum.

Over time, tax officials turned a blind eye to this practice.

The thought of such clever advantages made Xijin somewhat envious.

But A Chou responded differently: “If he’s serious about pursuing an official career, he should focus on scholarly pursuits. Our family isn’t lacking funds—why bother with such schemes?”

Xijin countered, “Schemes? Doesn’t everyone do this?”

A Chou replied, “Just because everyone does it doesn’t mean one must follow suit.”

Xijin snorted when she heard him being stubborn with her: “If someone really passes the Prefectural examination smoothly and travels with their luggage, even the tax officials will show them some respect. That’s a huge advantage—why not take it when it’s free? Since we can’t benefit from it, we can only envy them. There’s no need to speculate about their motives! If word gets out, people might think we’re just sour grapes!”

She hugged her son and said, “Mang Er, you must study hard in the future and go to the capital for the exams. When that time comes, I’ll go with you—I can sell goods in Yanjing City and see the festive lanterns there too. Your mother might even get to bask in your glory! As for my fate, I can’t count on your father anymore!”

A Chou remained silent, simply gazing at the distant lantern lights.

Just then, a voice called out, “Isn’t that Ning Xiong? And Wu Niang is here too?”

Hearing the voice, Xijin froze slightly.

It was a once-familiar voice—Huo Erlang’s voice.