Chapter Forty-Six: Qiongyun Province

From the moment one steps into the examination hall, the ordeal begins. This is not merely a test of intellect, but also a trial of physical endurance, willpower, and mental fortitude. The August exams take place under the oppressive heat of the lingering summer, when the “autumn tiger” rages and the examination compound, long unused, becomes a haven for swarming insects. Gan Sui dreaded most the prospect of drawing a “stinking cell”—the spot at the end of the alley, right beside the latrine buckets. In the summer heat, the stench would permeate everything, enough to befuddle the mind of even the most learned scholar.

Fortunately, Yan Su’s luck with the draw had always been good. He secured a spot in the center, well-ventilated and bright, though the cell was so narrow that he would have to curl up to sleep at night. Nine days passed thus. Though Gan Sui had prepared himself mentally, he was still utterly exhausted. The moment he stepped out of the examination hall, he felt his whole being relax, his legs nearly giving way. Thankfully, Banxia saw him emerge and hurried to his side, helping him onto the carriage. Lin You soon followed. Having practiced martial arts since childhood, he fared better than Gan Sui, but as Banxia approached, she wrinkled her nose and asked, “What’s that smell on you?”

Lin You raised his arm and sniffed. “I don’t smell anything.”

Truly, it was a case of being so steeped in the stench that one no longer noticed it. Banxia was grateful she had called for two carriages; had she been forced to sit with him, she might have been suffocated.

Back home, the hot water had long been prepared. Banxia brought a basin for them to soak in. Lin You tried to pick up little Linzi, who was playing at the table, but before he could even get close, the child ran off in tears, crying, “Stinky, stinky…”

Only then did Lin You believe Banxia’s accusation. He hurried upstairs for a bath. Gan Sui, so exhausted, actually fell asleep while soaking. Banxia had to wake him, dress him in a robe, feed him some light broth and noodles, and then he slept again.

He did not wake until the next day at noon. When he finally came downstairs, Banxia was just setting dishes on the table. “You’re up. I was just about to call you.”

Seeing her familiar smile and smelling the aroma of good food, Gan Sui felt truly alive again.

After the meal, Gan Sui hurried out; he needed to recite the exam questions from memory to several of his mentors for their critique.

“Your essay is extraordinary, nephew. Surely you’ll take first place,” one of the uncles declared, and the others nodded in agreement.

Gan Sui was finally able to relax. He discussed the essays with them until sunset, then made his way home.

“Why the long faces?” he asked upon entering, encountering two identical furrowed brows—one large, one small.

“Look there,” Banxia pointed across the street.

Across the way, a sign was being hung—faintly, the words “Many Goods General Store” could be discerned.

Ah, a competitor had arrived. Such stores made their profit through small margins and high sales volume; one could hardly make a fortune. The new shop was copying Banxia’s opening strategy, offering half-price sales for the grand opening. It was plain that Banxia’s own business would suffer. With the two shops so close, customers would inevitably be split. Banxia’s only remaining advantage was rent-free premises, but rumor had it the rival store was well-backed, opened simply to please the owner’s beloved. In comparison, Banxia’s edge seemed negligible.

“This might actually be a good thing…” Gan Sui suddenly said, “The results will likely be announced in early winter. If my rank is high, I’ll have to travel to the capital in January to attend the Ministry of Rites’ national examinations. Master has said we’ll need to set out before the new year to meet him in the capital. That means, once the results are posted, we’ll be on the road. I’ve always wanted to travel with you. Why don’t we go see the sea together now?”

“The sea?” Banxia’s eyes lit up.

“Senior Brother will be shipping goods there in a few days. Why don’t we go for a trip together?”

“Yes, yes!” Banxia was overjoyed. For someone from an inland city, seeing the ocean was a lifelong dream. Luckily, Anzi’s teacher was also resting this year, so classes were suspended. The child longed to go on an adventure, and that night, he and Banxia chattered excitedly about the trip, getting more and more worked up, not at all inclined to sleep. Finally, Gan Sui, his face darkening, sent Anzi back to his room, and Anzi—whether by accident or design—locked his sister out, and no amount of coaxing could get the door open.

Left with no choice, Banxia was dragged back to the wolf’s den, and though nothing truly untoward happened, she felt as if it had. Biting her pillow in frustration, she vowed to teach that little traitor Anzi a lesson the next day.

Gan Sui and Banxia decided that, since they wouldn’t be staying long on their return, they should dispose of the shop’s inventory. The new store across the way was willing to take over both shops. Business was never Banxia’s strong suit, so Gan Sui and Wang Xiaoshan went to negotiate. To Banxia’s surprise, they managed to sell all the miscellaneous goods for more than two hundred taels.

Ever shrewd, Gan Sui used the silver to rent a small courtyard within the city the very next day. The house was not large, but it had three entrances, a courtyard, and a massive osmanthus tree. The moment Banxia entered, she breathed in its fragrance.

Anzi was more enchanted by the large fish tank in the yard, now filled with water lilies. He told Banxia he wanted to keep some golden koi and a little turtle inside. Banxia promised he could have both, and when they moved in the next day, she bought them for him and put them in the tank.

That evening, as Banxia packed, she felt a pang of reluctance. She had chosen every item in this house herself. The chrysanthemums in the garden had been planted last year—she wondered if the next tenants would cherish them. But there was no help for it. In just two years, they had already moved twice, and if Gan Sui were to receive an official appointment, a single decree could send them anywhere.

What she would miss most, though, were the children—Little Zhuzi and Little Linzi. Those two could be a handful, but when they were well-behaved, they were the sweetest. Little Linzi had started learning embroidery and, when Banxia was preparing to leave, presented her with her very first handmade sachet—embroidered with two tiny leaves, made with utmost care. Madam Qian, a little sour, told Banxia it was Linzi’s very first sachet, and she had given it to no one else.

Banxia kissed the child’s rosy cheeks, her heart heavy with reluctance.

Yet, there was nothing to be done. The carriage rolled forward, leaving all their regrets behind.

On moving day, Bai Lian came as well, with Wang Xiaoshan carrying little Mingzhi in his arms. The baby was teething, drooling constantly, and loved to gnaw on things. Bai Lian complained to Banxia that her son had no sense of cleanliness, chewing on his fingers one moment and his toes the next—simply unbearable.

Banxia thought she was making too much of it. All children were like that when teething—they just wanted to bite things. She suggested making the baby a teething stick out of soft wood, and Bai Lian resolved to try it.

At lunch, when Gan Sui mentioned that Banxia and Anzi would be traveling together, Bai Lian’s eyes filled with envy. “I wish I could go with you, but my child is too young.”

Indeed, life in ancient times was nothing like the modern world—transportation and healthcare were far inferior, and traveling with an infant was unwise.

“I thought, with those two men gone, we sisters could have some fun together. But I can’t believe you’re abandoning me,” Bai Lian teased.

Banxia could only think, “Madam Bai, your words are dangerous.”

“It’s fine—Banxia can help you look around instead,” Gan Sui added, rubbing salt in the wound.

“Husband, look at him!” Bai Lian protested to Wang Xiaoshan, who was caught between his wife and his friend. He promised that once the child was a year old, he would take her traveling. Bai Lian, seeing there was no other way, simply asked Banxia to bring back many things for her.

They traveled for nearly ten days, by carriage and by boat, until Anzi’s face had grown noticeably thinner, to Banxia’s distress. At last, Gan Sui announced they were near, and soon they glimpsed the boundary marker for Qiongyun Prefecture.

“The very air feels different here,” someone observed, and it was true. The coastal city’s salty humidity was distinctive; the people wore bright, lively clothes, and the streets were vibrant and clean, fragrant with the scent of fruit.

“Look, sister, that fruit is so strange!” Anzi pointed.

Banxia followed his gesture. “That’s a dragon fruit. It only grows in tropical regions. Would you like to try one? We’ll buy a couple later.”

Anzi nodded eagerly.

“The best thing here is the fruit—sweet and cheap. The only problem is storage costs; otherwise, the fruit trade would be a gold mine,” she mused.

Banxia agreed. In ancient times, with no advanced preservation or rapid transport, fruit spoiled easily.

“It’s not impossible—you could use ice, ship it back, and sell to noble families at a premium. That would be quite profitable,” Gan Sui suggested.

“But ice is expensive, and hard to store,” Banxia replied.

True, ice could not be stored easily. Though it could be manufactured, Gan Sui reflected that saltpeter mines were strictly controlled by the state, making ice production impractical, so he said no more.

“What’s that?” Anzi asked.

“Pineapple. You can cook with it or eat it fresh.”

“But it looks prickly.”

“That’s why you peel it.”

“And such big oranges?” Anzi pointed to a pomelo tree by the road.

“Those are pomelos—they won’t ripen until November.”

As they walked, Anzi peppered Banxia with questions.

“You act as if you’ve been here before, sister-in-law. You know everything,” someone remarked. When he first came, he had been just as curious.

“She loves reading travelogues. She almost wore out her copy of ‘Gazetteer of Qiongyun Prefecture.’ If she hadn’t been so interested, I’d never have thought to bring her,” Gan Sui explained.

“Is that so? Then you two are truly a well-matched pair,” Wang Xiaoshan said, though he harbored some doubts but did not press them.

On their first night in Qiongyun, of course, they went out for seafood. Banxia had been craving shrimp, and Anzi, having never tried it before, watched uncertainly until Banxia peeled one for him. After his first bite, his eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically, declaring it delicious.

Wang Xiaoshan and Gan Sui chatted about every topic under the sun, while Banxia and Anzi focused on the feast. In the end, as expected, the two ate until they could barely move, and Gan Sui had no choice but to take the two silly gluttons for a long walk along the seashore.