Chapter 95: Each to Their Own (3)

After the discussion with Yang Dong, there was a prolonged silence on his end.

Shen Xiling knew this was a test of patience. She had already taken the initiative to seek reconciliation; if she were now to push for a response, it would appear desperate and weak. This could lead to an even more unfavorable situation, as the guild might exploit the momentum, potentially destroying all her accumulated efforts in the weaving trade over the past three years.

She had to endure through it.

She and the guild engaged in a silent game of chess: she continuously reached out privately to other shopkeepers, while the guild kept pressuring shops that sided with Shen Xiling. Both parties were locked in a tense standoff.

This matter wouldn’t be resolved in a day or two. Although Shen Xiling had anticipated this, after a month, the pressure was still considerable.

She didn’t want to show it and worry Qi Ying, but he understood her too well. Even though she tried to act normal, he quickly noticed something was off.

One evening after dinner, while they were walking in the garden, he asked her, “Have you encountered difficulties in your business recently?”

Shen Xiling was startled by his question, unsure how he knew. After some thought, she asked, “…Did Master inquire about it?”

“Why would I need to ask anyone?” Qi Ying smiled faintly, glancing at her. “You’ve been so quiet.”

Shen Xiling pursed her lips.

Indeed, when she wasn’t preoccupied, she usually talked more around him. Lately, she had been quieter.

Not wanting him to worry, she feigned a relaxed demeanor and teased, “Does Master find me too talkative before?”

Qi Ying wasn’t fooled by her joke. His expression was serious as he looked at her, asking, “Do you need my help?”

Shen Xiling was surprised again, noticing the concern in his eyes.

The recent distance seemed to be her illusion. He still cared deeply for her, worrying because of her silence. Shen Xiling felt warmth in her heart but also a bit dispirited. It seemed he only showed extra affection when she was in trouble, much like when she was a child…

Thinking this way, she became more determined to show him she had grown up. She firmly shook her head, saying, “No.”

Qi Ying raised an eyebrow, asking, “Are you sure you don’t need help?”

She glanced at him, shaking her head even more resolutely.

Though she had a radiant appearance, her current gesture appeared childishly cute, evoking a faint trace of tenderness in Qi Ying’s eyes.

He relented, nodding, and said, “Alright, then I’ll respect your decision.”

Qi Ying didn’t persist further, considering other factors.

Although he had followed her previous wishes and stopped covertly protecting her business, he had supported her for three years. Anyone sensible knew he was her backer. Even if there were some business frictions, likely no one would dare to provoke trouble.

His main concern was her distress and fatigue, not any major issues. Since she declined his help, he respected her wishes. However, he couldn’t resist adding, “Come to me if you need anything. Don’t strain yourself.”

The word “strain” was subtle, hinting at his bias towards her. In his eyes, anyone who argued with her was “bullying” her, even making herself slightly tired was “bullying” herself.

He always feared she’d be bullied.

Shen Xiling understood him well. Having liked him for so long, she was familiar with every word and action of his, understanding the meaning behind each sentence. Thus, she felt cherished again, sweetness welling up in her heart. She softly replied, adding a touch of coquettishness, “Then Master should do the same. Come to me if you need anything. Don’t strain yourself.”

This statement was half-serious, half-joking.

She knew she couldn’t manage his affairs, and this was just playful banter. But the latter part was sincere: she hoped he could live more comfortably.

Qi Ying glanced at her, seeing the same pitying gaze she used to give him as a child. His heart softened again.

It was one thing when she was little, but now that she had grown up and become so beautiful, such expressions inevitably stirred feelings in those who saw them.

Even the cold-hearted Lord Qi couldn’t remain unaffected.

He awkwardly averted his eyes, avoiding looking at her anymore. Yet, his composure remained impeccable, appearing calm and collected, responding indifferently, “Naturally.”

Although Qi Ying assured Shen Xiling, he himself wasn’t living easily during this period.

Firstly, there were matters within the Secretariat.

Although there were no wars between the North and South this year, several internal uprisings occurred within Liang, falling under the jurisdiction of the Secretariat and thus requiring Qi Ying’s attention.

Investigating these uprisings revealed traces of Wei interference, but the roots of internal turmoil lay in the livelihood issues of the people, not solely due to external instigation.

Jiangnan had always been prosperous, but wealth mostly concentrated in the hands of aristocratic families, leaving commoners impoverished. Especially during wartime, heavy taxes and frequent conscriptions caused some counties to become desolate. Even though common people were accustomed to enduring hardships, they eventually rebelled when pushed to the brink of death, leading to internal turmoil.

Fortunately, these uprisings were minor and quickly suppressed. However, they left underlying concerns in Qi Ying’s mind.

The Secretariat could handle suppression and arrests, but broader governance strategies concerning people’s livelihoods weren’t Qi Ying’s responsibility. Strictly speaking, these were matters for his elder brother, Qi Yun. Recently, Qi Yun was also busy preparing reform strategies within the Shangshu Office, working tirelessly day and night. The brothers were equally occupied.

But Qi Ying was undoubtedly busier, given his additional duty regarding the Spring Examination.

The imperial examination seemed merely a three-day affair, but in reality, it was far more time-consuming. Not to mention the twelve years of hard study draining youthful vigor, even the preliminary warming-up process exhausted candidates’ spirits.

The practice of warming-up manuscripts had existed in previous generations and was especially prevalent in Jiangnan’s Xiao Liang dynasty.

Warming-up involved candidates presenting their name cards to prominent figures before submitting their works for endorsement. These “prominent figures” included nobles, renowned scholars, and royal relatives—anyone influential in the exam hall could be approached.

However, no one was more direct than the chief examiner himself. If candidates managed to impress the examiner beforehand, they gained a significant advantage, practically ensuring success.

Thus, Qi Ying had to receive numerous name cards, review countless essays, and discuss classics with many candidates—his workload rivaled that during wartime.

Being busy was secondary; dealing with interpersonal matters was more troublesome.

Most candidates seeking endorsements from prominent figures were from noble families. Commoners, constrained by finances, typically didn’t arrive in Jiankang until just before the exam, missing opportunities for warming-up. Even if they came early, without connections, they couldn’t approach influential figures, leaving them watching helplessly.

Among noble candidates, most couldn’t directly reach Qi Ying. They sought intermediaries to present their cases. Some approached Qi Ying’s former superiors, others went to his uncles or elders, and some sought other families friendly with the Qi family. It was a dazzling array of methods.

The most challenging situations involved inter-family endorsements among noble clans.

The three major surnames were all interconnected by blood or marriage. Who wasn’t related to whom? Everything circled back to being one big family. Qi Ying, already sought-after due to his power, became even more overwhelmed as chief examiner. One person asked him to favor his cousin, another to promote his nephew—it was endless.

While Qi Ying bore the brunt of this workload, it was Qi Yun who initially lost his temper.

Qi Yun, known for his integrity, found this warming-up trend disgraceful. Initially thinking it didn’t concern him much, he decided against intervening. However, after a few days, seeing influential figures nearly breaking down the family’s doors—even approaching his younger brother during commutes—he couldn’t stand it anymore.

Once, while visiting Qi Ying’s study, Qi Yun saw piles of candidates’ essays on the desk. Unable to resist, he picked up a few and flipped through them. What he saw made him furious, and he began berating his brother with the essays in hand.

“Absurd! Truly absurd!” Qi Yun was both curious and amused. “□□ Yang, do you remember him? He’s one of Ruo Hui’s distant nephews. Last year, he couldn’t even match tones properly. Now his writing is full of embroidery! Even a blind man would know these are ghostwritten. How shameless of their elders to blatantly pass them to you!”

Qi Ying coughed, unable to calm his brother before he picked up another essay, continuing, “This one is honest, but look what he wrote! He can’t distinguish between annotations and commentaries! If not for being born into a good family, he wouldn’t even pass as a scholar!”

Anger consumed him, finding more absurdities as he reviewed each essay, almost all unbearable to read. The few decent ones were mediocre, lacking brilliance.

Seeing his brother’s rising emotions, Qi Ying realized he was venting frustration likely stemming from setbacks in reform efforts. Knowing it was futile to intervene, he let his brother rant until exhausted, then had Qing Zhu pour tea to soothe him.

After two cups of tea, Qi Yun’s anger hadn’t subsided. Glancing at Qi Ying’s calm demeanor, his brows furrowed again, asking, “How can they show you such things and brazenly request favors for these candidates, and you’re not even upset?”

Qi Ying wasn’t upset, just weary.

Elder brother was upright but inexperienced in political maneuvering. He likely viewed Qi Ying’s role as chief examiner as an imperial reward, failing to see the emperor’s underlying test.

Qi Ying already knew the caliber of noble sons. Disqualifying them impartially would trigger numerous complications and be seen as siding with the Third Prince—a troublesome affair.

Explaining this to his straightforward brother would only add to his worries, especially since his own reforms weren’t going smoothly. Why burden him further?

After pondering, Qi Ying remained silent. Qi Yun assumed his younger brother was too upset to speak, feeling sympathy for him. Seeking a happier topic, he said, “Well, the exam isn’t until next year. Worrying now is useless. I’ve noticed you’ve been cooped up in the study lately. Coincidentally, Fu Zhuo invited me to play polo on our day off. Bo Heng and Zhong Heng are also joining. They asked if you could spare some time?”

Qi Ying intended to decline, but his brother pressed on, “Just join us. It’ll be a good break. Constantly reviewing these subpar essays can’t be enjoyable.”

With his elder brother insistent, Qi Ying saw determination in his expression—an indication he’d persist until Qi Ying agreed. Feeling somewhat helpless, Qi Ying nodded, accepting the invitation.

Author’s Note: Can you people of Great Liang please settle down and let my goose rest for a bit?