The Scholar’s Unconventional Little Wife - Chapter 4

The day Old Man Chen announced the rules for the Wen Kui selection, autumn had deepened. The leaves of the old locust tree in the courtyard had turned mostly yellow, rustling to the ground with every passing breeze.

The rules were simple yet brutal: one month, three examinations. The first would be on the Classics, the second on a policy essay, and the final would be a test of Old Man Chen’s own design, its format a complete surprise. The student with the highest overall score would be named Wen Kui.

The news cast a heavy pall over the classroom. The occasional glances exchanged between students now carried an unspoken, competitive edge.

Pressure descended like an invisible net.

Lin Ruo’an wasn’t afraid of the exams themselves. After all, she was a modern soul who had survived the grueling Gaokao and the postgraduate entrance exams. Rote memorization, reading comprehension, and logical analysis were her bread and butter. What truly gave her a headache was the constant need to maintain her disguise.

For example, she was currently sitting with her neck stiff, trying to hide the bulge of her chest binder while maintaining the upright posture of “Scholar Lin.” All the while, she had to listen to Old Man Chen explain the subtle meanings of the Spring and Autumn Annals. Zhou Wenyuan sat diagonally behind her, and she could feel his gaze like a needle pricking her back.

Damn it, keep staring and I’ll have Wangyou slice you up like a radish, she snarled inwardly, while her face remained the picture of a diligent, focused student.

After class, it was still early. Lin Ruo’an didn’t rush home but detoured to the town’s bookstore. With the selection exams approaching, she wanted to find a few new collections of sample essays to study. Just as she stepped across the threshold, she heard a familiar voice from inside.

“…Shopkeeper, do you have any of the latest essays from the capital? The best ones, money is no object.”

It was Zhou Wenyuan. He stood with his back to the door, talking to the shopkeeper, with two of his usual sycophantic classmates trailing behind.

The shopkeeper offered a fawning smile. “Young Master Zhou, your timing is perfect. A shipment just arrived the day before yesterday. They’re said to be new works by several of the capital’s most famous scholars. Let me get them for you.”

Lin Ruo’an froze, about to turn and leave, but it was too late. One of Zhou Wenyuan’s followers had spotted her. He immediately sneered, “Oh, isn’t this Brother Lin? Here to buy books too? I heard Brother Lin’s family is quite poor. These essays from the capital aren’t cheap, Brother Lin… you should act within your means.”

Low chuckles rippled through the group.

Only then did Zhou Wenyuan slowly turn around, eyeing Lin Ruo’an with a half-smile. “Brother Li is joking. Brother Lin is exceptionally learned, perhaps he has his own insights and doesn’t need such mundane things.” He waved the book in his hand. “However, when it comes to the selection exams, sometimes it’s not just about knowledge, but also about one’s perspective. Brother Lin is confined to the marketplace and eateries, I’m afraid some of his information might be a bit outdated, right?”

Those words were practically a direct insult: “You’re poor, you’re narrow-minded, and you’re not worthy of competing with me.”

Lin Ruo’an’s face broke into a gentle, harmless smile. “Brother Zhou is right. My family is indeed poor, and I lack both your connections and your wealth. However, Old Man Chen has always taught me that the true value of scholarship lies in understanding reason and acting with integrity, not in competing over external possessions. I am slow-witted and only know how to thoroughly read the books I have and do my best with the tasks at hand. As for the selection, I will simply give it my all. The final decision rests with Old Man Chen.”

Her words were poised and humble, yet firm. The other scholars in the bookstore turned to look, drawn by her composure. Zhou Wenyuan’s smile faded, his gaze turning cold.

“Brother Lin has quite the silver tongue,” Zhou Wenyuan sneered. “Then we shall wait and see. I hope your ‘integrity’ can truly make up for your lack of ‘external possessions.'” With that, he took his book and strode out with his entourage, his head held high in arrogant triumph.

Lin Ruo’an stood still, only letting out a soft sigh after they had gone.

Looking down on people, that bastard. Just you wait until this lady… no, until this Xiucai makes a name for herself… She gritted her teeth, finally selecting a moderately priced, second-hand collection of policy essays. After paying, she carefully placed the book in her case.

Leaving the bookstore, she saw that the setting sun had already dyed the flagstone path a warm golden hue. From the direction of the eatery, the familiar aroma of food wafted over, mingled with the scent of firewood, strangely comforting.

She quickened her pace.

When she pushed open the back door of the eatery, the scene she saw made her freeze again.

It wasn’t because of any earth-shattering event, but because… it was too harmonious.

The kitchen was steaming hot, and Xu Fenggu was stir-frying at the stove. Xu Wangyou stood at a small cutting board, preparing a fish.

This time, Lin Ruo’an saw it clearly.

Xu Wangyou’s movements were not fast, even slow and deliberate. The tip of the knife sliced open along the fish bone, peeling away the skin, removing two complete fillets of fish meat, and then slicing the fish meat into pieces as thin as cicada wings. The entire process was so smooth that there was not a single extra movement, the fish bone was clean, the fish meat was neat, and the fish skin was intact.

“What hidden skill is this again?” Lin Ruo’an murmured.

Xu Wangyou only then noticed her return, stopped her movements, and turned her head. Because of the busyness, her pale cheeks were stained with a very light pink, there were also fine beads of sweat on her forehead, but her eyes had more light than usual, no longer completely empty.

“You’re back,” she said.

“Hmm.” Lin Ruo’an nodded, her gaze still fixed on the platter of sliced fish. “This… where did you learn to slice like that?”

Xu Wangyou looked down at her “creation,” as if only now realizing what she’d done. “It… tastes better when it’s thinner,” she said hesitantly.

Lin Ruo’an: “…”

Xu Fenggu transferred the stir-fried dish from the wok to a plate and glanced over. “What are you staring at? Wash your hands and come eat. Wangyou, bring the fish slices over. The water’s boiling, we’ll blanch them.”

The atmosphere at the dining table was somewhat strained.

Zhao Siniang was still her usual simple-minded self, eating heartily. Xu Fenggu ate quickly but without being crude, her eyes occasionally sweeping over Lin Ruo’an and then over the quietly eating Xu Wangyou.

Xu Wangyou ate very slowly, chewing carefully, as if savoring every grain of rice and every piece of vegetable. She rarely took food for herself, only eating what Xu Fenggu placed in her bowl. Lin Ruo’an noticed that the way she held her chopsticks… seemed almost too steady.

“The selection is set?” Xu Fenggu suddenly spoke, breaking the silence.

Lin Ruo’an snapped back to reality. “Yes, three rounds in one month.”

“Difficult?”

“I’ll do my best,” Lin Ruo’an said, taking a mouthful of rice. “It’s just that… Zhou Wenyuan might be a bit of a problem.”

Xu Fenggu snorted. “That fancy-pants? He only acts like that because his family has a bit of money. Don’t let him intimidate you, just focus on your own exams.” She paused, then added, “But you need to be careful. You’re ‘Scholar Lin’ now, and there are a lot of eyes on you. Watch what you say and do.”

Her words carried a hidden meaning. Lin Ruo’an’s heart skipped a beat, knowing her mother was reminding her of her disguise. Especially now, with all the attention on her, she couldn’t afford a single mistake.

“I know, Mother.”

Xu Fenggu then turned to Xu Wangyou, her voice softening slightly. “The same goes for you. Stay out of the public eye for a while and just help out in the back courtyard. Don’t listen to what people are saying outside.”

Xu Wangyou looked up, her clear eyes meeting Xu Fenggu’s. She seemed to process her mother’s words for a moment before nodding. “Alright.”

After the meal, Lin Ruo’an was about to head back to her room to study when Xu Wangyou called out to her.

Xu Wangyou was holding a small plate with several square-cut, translucent pieces of… radish? No, on closer inspection, it was a set of the Four Treasures of the Study carved from radish! The brush, inkstone, paper, and ink slab were so lifelike that even the bristles on the brush were clearly visible.

“For you,” she said, holding the plate out to Lin Ruo’an.

Lin Ruo’an was stunned. “This… When did you carve it? Before dinner? Or just now while you were clearing the table?”

“Just now,” Xu Wangyou said succinctly. Her eyes held a flicker of anticipation, like a child waiting for praise. “For you…”

Lin Ruo’an looked at the radish carving, a true work of art, then at Xu Wangyou’s eyes, which seemed to have softened with warmth. A corner of her heart felt as if it had been brushed by a feather, soft and tingling.

She picked up the “radish brush.” It was cool to the touch, the carving so exquisitely detailed it defied belief.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful. And… amazing.”

The corners of Xu Wangyou’s mouth curved up ever so slightly. “Mm,” she murmured, then turned to help Zhao Siniang finish tidying up.

Lin Ruo’an stood there for a long time, clutching the “radish brush” and watching her back, before finally turning to go back into the room.

On her desk lay the recently purchased collection of old policy essays, its ink faded and dim. Moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating the tabletop.

She placed the radish-carved “Four Treasures of the Study” on a corner of her desk, next to the inkstone. The translucent white radish glowed softly in the moonlight, possessing a lively, spirited quality that the real stationery lacked.

She lifted her brush, dipped it in ink, but found herself unable to write.

Images flashed through her mind like a revolving lantern: Zhou Wenyuan’s provocative sneer, Old Man Chen’s stern face, the exquisite radish carvings.

Finally, the images settled on Xu Wangyou’s quiet, focused eyes as she had handed over the carvings.

This child… Her memory was a blank slate, yet she seemed to know exactly how to pierce someone’s heart.

Lin Ruo’an picked up the brush again, took a deep breath, and pushed the distracting thoughts aside.

The scent of ink lingered at her nose, while the faint aroma of food wafted in from the window. Beside her, the plate of radishes released a sweet, slightly pungent fragrance.

The brush tip touched the paper, scratching softly.

Storms lay ahead, and secrets were hidden within this home.

Yet in this moment, the tranquility of this desk, this room filled with the mingled scents of ink and domestic life, strangely settled her heart.

Perhaps this was the power of “home.”

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