1 The Xu Family Members

It is often said that the weather in June is as fickle as a child's mood, but August is no less so. Just moments ago the sky was clear and bright; now, it is shrouded in darkness, and rain pours down in torrents.

Guiyuan Temple stands west of Changmen in Suzhou, built in the Yuan dynasty. Its halls unfold along a central axis, imposing in their hierarchy and strict in their symmetry. To the east lies a place for worship, solemn and orderly; to the west, a place for divination and drawing lots.

A young woman emerged from the western side, clad in a wide-sleeved jacket of indigo cotton and a deep blue skirt, with a glimpse of pale knee-length trousers beneath. The generous cut of her garments concealed her five-month pregnant belly. In her left hand was a basket, her right holding the hand of a little girl dressed in pink. Seeing the rain grow heavier, she said to the child, “Zhenzhen, let’s wait under the corridor until the rain stops before we go.”

“Yes, Mother.” The girl, seven or eight years old, had a round, delicate face, a small nose, cherry lips, and round eyelids revealing a bright, lively gaze. She was a charming child, yet the carmine mole between her brows lent her a certain dignity.

It was said that a red mark between the brows signified early wisdom, and this girl indeed seemed clever beyond her years. But she was not born so; she had transmigrated. She had been a graduate student in traditional Chinese medicine, specializing in acupuncture and massage. Not a year into her first job at a local hospital, she was caught in a scuffle with a medical troublemaker and, trying to intervene, was pushed to the ground and lost consciousness. When she awoke, she found herself reborn into a modest household of the Ming dynasty.

Her grandparents originally hailed from Huguang. Due to the switch from rice to mulberry cultivation, grain was scarce in Suzhou, so the elderly couple opened a small rice shop in Fengqiao, raising three sons and a daughter. When Miaozhen was born, they still lived in a cramped room behind the shop.

Later, as their sons married, the grandparents felt their duties fulfilled and passed the rice shop to their youngest son, Miaozhen’s third uncle. He, finding the rice business too small and the clientele from Huguang unstable, converted it into a tea snack shop.

Miaozhen’s father, the second son, became a student at nineteen after passing the prefectural exam, but failed the academy exam and the family couldn’t afford further studies. He first subsisted on teaching at a village school, earning grain as payment. He loved reading storybooks, but was often frustrated by their abrupt endings and so, in a fit of annoyance, began writing his own.

He was neither taught by famous teachers nor born into a scholarly family, yet showed remarkable talent in writing. For the first three years, he earned only a few coins each month for his work, but persisted. By the fifth year, his income suddenly soared to ten taels a month.

With this money, her father could not only continue his studies for the academy exam but also support the family.

The academy exam was held every three years, twice in that span. Her father, Xu Erpeng, had already tried five times and failed. This year was his sixth attempt, and her mother, Madam Mei, brought Miaozhen along to Guiyuan Temple to draw a lot for his fortune.

Now, with rain pouring outside, the hall was full of people seeking shelter. Miaozhen helped Madam Mei to a seat.

If Xu Erpeng was a perennial candidate for the imperial exams, a man full of frustration, then Madam Mei’s luck was equally ill-starred. When she married, her father was still a poor scholar. She was the eldest, with seven or eight younger siblings, and her dowry barely amounted to six trunks.

No sooner had she married than her father achieved the rank of provincial scholar; the family acquired servants and houses, and her siblings married into wealthy families, one even marrying into the prestigious Qiao family. Madam Mei, however, lived a hard life. Pregnant soon after marriage, her mother-in-law, who had a daughter only two years older than Miaozhen, complained of poverty and refused to help with her postpartum care, secretly eating the eggs her husband bought for her.

Fortunately, her husband was capable; over the years, she had accumulated more than two hundred taels. Now pregnant again, she hoped her husband would finally succeed as a scholar, fulfilling a long-cherished wish.

“Wife…”

As Madam Mei and Miaozhen sheltered from the rain, a young man wearing a square scarf entered from outside. Though plump, he moved nimbly, carrying two yellow oil-paper umbrellas.

Both Miaozhen and Madam Mei were delighted.

Miaozhen quickly stood and called, “Father, what brings you here?”

“I saw it was raining and worried you two would get soaked, so I came,” Xu Erpeng replied, glancing at Madam Mei. “Are you alright?”

Madam Mei shook her head hastily.

...

Xu Erpeng, though slightly overweight and seeming gentle, was a man of perseverance. Aside from diligently writing his stories each day, he focused single-mindedly on preparing for the imperial exams, vowing not to give up until he became a scholar.

He said, “I heard from Father this morning that my eldest brother is returning from Yunnan. He’s only been gone a little over a year; I wonder why he’s back?”

Madam Mei worried about something else. “Will your eldest brother’s family stay with us when they return?”

Four years prior, the Xu grandparents had their sons pool money to buy a house in Fengqiao, just three li from Guiyuan Temple. Thankfully, Ming dynasty real estate was inexpensive; fifty-six taels bought a two-story, four-room house.

Altogether, there were eight rooms. The three brothers each had two, the grandparents one, and the last served as the kitchen. The eldest brother, though absent at the time, contributed twenty taels for the purchase.

The second branch lived upstairs in the eastern rooms, Xu Erpeng and Madam Mei in one, with Miaozhen moving into the outer room as she grew older. They occupied just two rooms. However, Madam Xu’s daughter, Fourth Miss Xu, took one of the large rooms when she came of age. The third brother, Xu Sanlei, who ran the tea snack shop, used another for storing flour and molds, turning it into a storeroom.

Xu Erpeng laughed, “Eldest brother passed the student exam at fifteen and was chosen by the Fang family, jewel merchants, as a son-in-law. When he failed the academy exam, they sent him to study at Jinling Academy, registering him in Yingtian Prefecture, saying it was easier to pass there. Though he failed the academy exam twice and the Fang merchant’s daughter died, eldest brother agreed to have her buried in our family plot, and the Fang family gave him the thousand taels originally meant as dowry. He was selected in Yingtian and later went to Yunnan as an official. He has no shortage of money; why would he care for these two rooms?”

“That’s true,” Madam Mei laughed.

Xu Erpeng continued, “Actually, I don’t want to live here either, but let’s wait until we have more money. I’d like to open a bookstore.”

Miaozhen was puzzled. “Father, why do you want to open a bookstore?”

“In the twenty-sixth volume of the ‘Essentials of Ming Governance,’ it is recorded that in August of the first year of Hongwu, the emperor abolished the book tax. Selling books is untaxed. Besides, I don’t want to run a school. Village schools pay only eight coins a month, or a tael at best, and the children are unruly. Even if I become a scholar, I’d rather not run a school.” Xu Erpeng had always loved detective stories like “Cases of Judge Bao,” and now wrote many such tales, which had a devoted readership.

Miaozhen thought about their home in Fengqiao, outside Changmen on Jiuli Road. Changmen was the most renowned hub for book carving in Suzhou, its carved books famous throughout the land. No wonder her father, besides writing, was learning typesetting—preparing to open a bookstore!

“Father, Mother drew a lot for you earlier, and it was a very auspicious one,” Miaozhen smiled.

In truth, Madam Mei had drawn two unlucky lots and only stopped after finally drawing a good one.

Xu Erpeng, never a believer in such things, merely said, “I’ve hoped for years and been disappointed just as long. If I fail this time, I’ll wait another two or three years, and then give up the idea entirely.”

He wanted to become a scholar, more for the recognition than the benefits. Though the rice stipend for scholars was long gone, scholars could travel and study freely, and were exempt from kneeling in court.

As the three spoke, the rain ceased outside. Xu Erpeng led his wife and child home, only to find several carriages waiting at their door—Eldest Master Xu Yiming had returned with his family.

Miaozhen observed her uncle, who wore a crepe fiber hat and a dark blue silk robe, paired with pale blue silk trousers and fine white summer socks, his feet in delicate Chenqiao shoes. His appearance was refined and dignified, his demeanor lighting up the house.

His wife, Madam Huang, seemed less impressive—despite her silk attire, her complexion was sallow and her brow furrowed, as if perpetually troubled.

Their only daughter, Miaoyun, was already a proper little lady, her manners graceful.

Neighbors gathered to witness the excitement, calling Eldest Uncle “Yan Gongsheng,” and Grandfather Xu called the third uncle’s family back from the tea shop.

Miaozhen noted that her father was fair and plump, the third uncle also a bit round-faced and ruddy, but the eldest uncle truly looked unlike the rest of the Xu family.

The women prepared a sumptuous meal: pork head meat, silver fish, carp, tripe, lungs, chicken, duck—a whole table laden with dishes. Even the usually stingy Madam Xu brought out cloud cakes and assorted sweets for everyone.

...

The Xu family had long since divided households, but now, with Eldest Uncle’s return, all distinctions were set aside.

The children ate at a small table. Miaozhen sat across, with cousin Miaoyun and Fourth Miss Xu on her left—Fourth Miss was Madam Xu’s youngest, only ten years old. On her right were the third branch siblings, Miaolian and Brother Zhang—Miaolian was a year younger, Brother Zhang three years old.

The children, not often treated to such a meal, ate heartily, while the adults maintained decorum at their table.

Xu Yiming, hearing his brother still pursuing the scholar’s degree, remarked, “You are truly persistent.”

“I’m not just sitting exams and doing nothing else,” Xu Erpeng replied, unconvinced that his efforts were misplaced. “I’m not like you, eldest brother—an official student in Yingtian, selected for the Imperial Academy, never knowing our hardships. It’s not just me; even third brother took the exam two or three times before giving up.”

At this, Xu Yiming could say no more.

Grandfather Xu asked, “I heard you went to Yunnan as an official; why have you returned so soon?”

Xu Yiming waved his hand. “I was only a clerk, nothing more. I went because Magistrate Zhang did; now he’s resigned, so we’ve returned. By the way, Father, we’d like to stay here tonight, if that’s alright…”

“Of course, of course, I’ll have someone tidy up,” Grandfather Xu responded quickly.

Beside him, Madam Huang was sulking. Her father was also a scholar, and she herself was educated and skilled in needlework. She had gone to Jinling as a women’s tutor, drawn to Xu Yiming’s refined looks, gentle demeanor, and fine attire. She married him, only to discover the Xu family was not as well-off as hers. Her father earned little teaching, but her uncle had a silk shop and lent grain, treating her as his own daughter since he had none.

Sensing the tense atmosphere, Xu Erpeng quickly said, “Eldest brother, what does an official student’s certificate look like? Show it to us, let us admire it.”

“It’s at the bottom of my trunk, hard to find. I’ll show you once the luggage is unpacked,” Xu Yiming replied, visibly uneasy. In Jinling, he mingled with wealthy friends, spending freely and living extravagantly, but never achieved academic success, barely passing the prefectural exam.

To appease the family, he planned to purchase a student certificate, but for commoners, the donation required three hundred and fifty taels, plus fifty more to smooth connections. He saw others’ certificates marked “donation,” felt it wasn’t worth it, and, with limited funds, bought a fake certificate for a fraction of the cost.

Xu Yiming, afraid his deception would be exposed, was anxious, yet he couldn’t let go of the vanity of being a selected scholar. He shifted the topic, asking his brothers about their occupations.

He disapproved of Xu Erpeng writing stories but praised Xu Sanlei for his practical business.

Just then, several yamen runners entered, beating drums and smiling broadly.

“Congratulations! Master Xu Erpeng has passed the Suzhou Prefecture academy exam, ranking fifty-sixth, and his name is posted in yellow!”

Miaozhen exclaimed, “Father, you’ve become a scholar!”

The peanut Xu Yiming had been picking up with his chopsticks dropped, his face stunned. Xu Erpeng went to fetch coins for the bearers, humbly saying, “Eldest brother is a selected scholar; I’m only a scholar, still far behind.”

Xu Erpeng sincerely believed himself inferior to his eldest brother, but little did he expect that his brother would envy him. At least Xu Erpeng’s degree was genuine, allowing him to travel freely without fear; his brother’s false certificate could never withstand scrutiny.