The Scholar’s Unconventional Little Wife - Chapter 8

The results of the Classic Interpretation Examination were posted three days later.

A large sheet of red paper was pasted on the white wall of the academy’s outer courtyard. Students crowded around it, forming three dense layers of people.

Lin Ruo’an stood quietly on the outskirts of the crowd, not bothering to push her way in.

She wasn’t particularly worried about her ranking. She had performed steadily on the exam, covering all the necessary points and elaborating where needed. What truly unsettled her was something else entirely.

The conflict at the restaurant two days ago, though quickly quelled by Xu Fenggu’s few words, hadn’t completely subsided. The martial arts apprentices had returned to thank her once more, their eyes lingering on Xu Wangyou, hesitating to speak.

Faint rumors were also beginning to circulate through town, whispering that “the child bride at the Xu Family Restaurant is a bit strange.”

Xu Wangyou herself remained as calm as ever, as if she had merely stepped on an ant that day and forgotten about it in an instant.

“It’s out! It’s out!” A commotion broke out ahead, and the crowd surged forward.

Lin Ruo’an steadied her breath and took a few steps forward. Through a gap in the crowd, she caught sight of the red paper.

Black ink on red paper listed the rankings from top to bottom:

First Place: Lin Ruo’an.

The three characters were written in a neat, full script.

Fellow students crowded around, clasping their hands in congratulation. “Congratulations, Brother Lin!” “Brother Lin’s talent is truly exceptional!”

Lin Ruo’an returned each greeting with a humble smile, but her mind was elsewhere: Zhou Wenyuan won’t be getting any sleep tonight.

Her gaze swept down the list, finding Zhou Wenyuan’s name in fifth place. Not a poor showing, but the gap between him and the top spot was undeniable.

Sure enough, when she turned, she met Zhou Wenyuan’s gaze. His eyes were dark and brooding, the muscles in his face taut. He stared at her, his lip twitching, before finally saying nothing, flinging his sleeve back, and storming off.

Lin Ruo’an’s smile remained fixed, but a new layer of wariness settled in her heart. Given Zhou Wenyuan’s temperament, he would never let such a public humiliation go unavenged.

“Lin Ruo’an.” Old Man Chen’s voice came from behind her.

Lin Ruo’an quickly bowed. “Your student is here, Sir.”

Old Man Chen stroked his long beard, his eyes full of approval. “Your foundation in the Classics is solid, and your interpretations are insightful. Very good. However, you must guard against pride and impatience. The final two examinations will focus heavily on practical policy and strategy. You cannot afford to slacken.”

“I will keep your teachings in mind, Sir,” Lin Ruo’an replied respectfully.

“Hmph.” Old Man Chen nodded, said no more, and walked away with his hands clasped behind his back.

The cheers of congratulations erupted again, even more fervent than before. Lin Ruo’an went through the motions of responding, but her mind had already wandered.

Winning the first round was a good start, but it also meant she had been thrust into the spotlight. The upcoming policy essay and the unknown third round would only be more challenging.

Suddenly, she found herself longing to go home right then and there, back to the eaves that always smelled of food and echoed with laughter.

When she pushed open the back door of the eatery, the expected aroma of cooking washed over her.

“You’re back?” Xu Fenggu poked her head out of the kitchen, a large ladle in hand and a smile on her face. “Just in time, the pork knuckle is almost done.”

“Pork knuckle?” Lin Ruo’an was surprised. It wasn’t cheap, and they rarely ate it at home.

“To celebrate you taking first place!” Zhao Siniang popped out from beside her with a goofy grin. “Aunt Feng went out early to buy a huge front knuckle, saying she’d stew it up properly!”

A warmth spread through Lin Ruo’an’s heart.

Xu Fenggu waved her hand dismissively. “I just happened to see a good one while I was out. Now go wash your hands, don’t get in the way.”

Lin Ruo’an smiled and set down her book box. Her eyes scanned the courtyard, quickly finding Xu Wangyou under the osmanthus tree. She was crouching on the ground with several small clay pots arranged before her, stirring something with a small wooden spoon.

“What are you doing?” Lin Ruo’an asked as she walked over.

Xu Wangyou looked up, a smudge of brown powder on her face and her eyes shining. “Making a dipping sauce. The pork hock is rich and fatty, so this will cut through the grease and enhance the flavor.”

She pointed to the small earthenware jars in front of her. “This is cornelian cherry powder, this is ground Sichuan pepper, this is toasted sesame seeds, and these are several spices I ground myself.”

Lin Ruo’an looked at the powders of various colors in the jars and marveled once again at the girl’s “expertise” in certain areas. She crouched down beside Xu Wangyou and asked curiously, “How do you know all these combinations?”

Xu Wangyou froze for a moment, that familiar look of confusion clouding her eyes. She shook her head. “…I don’t know. I just felt like it should be done this way.”

Muscle memory again, Lin Ruo’an thought with a sigh.

Over the past few days, similar incidents had become increasingly common. Xu Wangyou seemed to have an uncanny “feel” for everything in the kitchen, from controlling the heat to preparing ingredients, from knife skills to seasoning. She often mastered these things without any instruction, and her skill level was astonishingly high.

“Maybe you really were an incredible chef in your past life,” Lin Ruo’an said half-jokingly.

Dinner was exceptionally lavish. A large bowl of braised pork hock, stewed until tender and flavorful, sat in the center of the table. The skin was gelatinous, the meat so soft it fell off the bone with the lightest touch of chopsticks. Xu Fenggu had also prepared several refreshing side dishes and a cold salad. Of course, there was also the dipping sauce Xu Wangyou had specially prepared. Its complex, savory-spicy aroma perfectly cut through the rich fattiness of the pork hock, enhancing its flavor immensely.

Zhao Siniang ate until her face was glistening with oil, her praise unending. Even Xu Fenggu, unusually, ate half a bowl more rice than usual.

As Lin Ruo’an enjoyed this rare “celebratory feast,” her mind was on something else. Once Zhao Siniang finished clearing the table and went to attend to the front of the house, leaving only the three of them in the courtyard, Lin Ruo’an cleared her throat and began, “Mother, it seems some gossip about Wangyou has started in town. The incident from the day before yesterday has spread.”

Xu Fenggu’s gaze sharpened as she looked at Lin Ruo’an. “What are they saying?”

“Nothing specific, just… that she’s a bit unusual. Maybe it’s her strength, or… her good luck?” Lin Ruo’an chose her words carefully, deliberately avoiding the term “eerie.”

Xu Fenggu snorted and tossed the rag onto the table. “You’ve got too much time on your hands. So what if she’s strong? Which country girl isn’t? And who’s bothered by her good luck?” She paused, her gaze softening as she looked at Xu Wangyou sitting quietly beside her. “Don’t pay those things any mind. We’ll just mind our own business behind closed doors.”

“Mother,” Lin Ruo’an hesitated before finally asking the question she’d been harboring for days. “That day… how did Wangyou do it? The way she broke that man’s arm…”

Xu Fenggu’s expression darkened instantly. Even Xu Wangyou seemed to sense the shift, her clear eyes darting between the two women.

After a few moments of silence, Xu Fenggu picked up the rag again and began scrubbing the already spotless tabletop with unnecessary force. Her voice returned to its usual flat tone, even tinged with a forced impatience.

“Who knows? Maybe she just happened to hit a nerve. That bastard deserved it for his own wickedness.” She glanced at Lin Ruo’an. “You’ve read too many books, stop overthinking things. Instead of obsessing over this, you’d be better off figuring out how to write your next policy essay. That’s what really matters!”

It was a blatant deflection. Lin Ruo’an knew pressing further would get her nowhere, so she simply replied, “Yes, Mother.”

Night had fallen. Lin Ruo’an lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

She rose, threw on a cloak, and gently pushed open the door, hoping to get some fresh air in the courtyard.

The moonlight was beautiful tonight, casting a silver glow across the ground.

And there, beneath the osmanthus tree, already stood a figure.

It was Xu Wangyou. She wore only a thin nightgown, her arms crossed as she gazed up at the moon.

“Why aren’t you asleep yet?” Lin Ruo’an asked softly as she approached.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Xu Wangyou replied. After a moment, she suddenly asked, “Ruo’an, did I… cause more trouble for you and Aunt Feng again?”

Lin Ruo’an froze. “Why do you ask?”

“Those people said I’m not normal.” Xu Wangyou lowered her head, staring at her toes. “That day, that fierce person… it hurt a lot. I didn’t mean to, but everyone was watching me. Aunt Feng told me to ignore them, but I know I caused trouble…”

Lin Ruo’an’s heart tightened. So she understood everything. She wasn’t completely oblivious; she was just direct and clumsy in her expression.

“It’s not your fault.” Lin Ruo’an walked to her side. “That person started it by bullying others. You… you were just protecting everyone.” After a moment’s thought, she added, “And besides, you’re amazing. Truly.”

Xu Wangyou turned to look at her. “Is being… powerful a good thing?”

The question left Lin Ruo’an momentarily speechless. In this era, for a woman—especially one with an uncertain background—being “powerful” wasn’t necessarily a good thing. It meant being beyond control, which in turn meant attracting more unwanted attention and trouble.

But as she looked into Xu Wangyou’s clear eyes, she finally nodded. “Yes, it’s a good thing. At least, it allows you to protect the people you want to protect.”

Xu Wangyou seemed satisfied with this answer, a simple, innocent smile reappearing on her lips. She gazed at the moon for a long moment before speaking softly.

“I want to protect this place. The eatery, Aunt Feng, Sister Siniang, and you.”

The night breeze swept past, carrying the lingering scent of osmanthus and the chill of late autumn.

Under the moonlight, Lin Ruo’an and Xu Wangyou stood side by side. The chaotic thoughts of exams, competition, rumors, and secrets suddenly felt distant.

In this moment, there was only the moonlight, the gentle breeze, and two hearts quietly drawing closer amidst a web of lies and secrets.

“I know,” Lin Ruo’an said.

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