A thousand words were worth less than silence

Drunken Wind Tower.

The wine had left them pleasantly tipsy, and laughter flowed freely over the feast.

When Han Hui heard Song Yuan mention the imperial examinations, he set down his wine cup and asked with a smile, "Ziyu, you want to take both the county and prefectural examinations? Wouldn't three months be rather rushed?"

"I did gain some understanding from my earlier studies," Jia Heng replied. "I simply never sat the examinations. Three months of revision should suffice."

"There are Lecturers at the Imperial College to teach you," Song Yuan said with a smile. "If there's anything you don't understand, you can ask me. Though I'm only a Recommended Man, before entering the Imperial College, I taught at the Prefecture school. I've guided several dozen students to become Cultivated Talents."

At this, Jia Heng rose and offered a solemn bow. "I'm sorry for all the trouble I'll be putting you to, Master Song."

Their earlier conversation had shown him that Song Yuan might be seeking to attach himself to Han Hui, but he could hardly be called a flatterer.

Han Hui nodded. "Master Song's learning could fill five cartloads, and his understanding is broad and penetrating. Even my uncle never tires of praising him."

Song Yuan gave a self-mocking smile. "Yet I fail year after year. I've been taking the examinations since twenty, wasting away more than a decade..."

"You've simply had poor luck, sir," Han Hui said. "Next year is the Grand Examination. With all your accumulated learning ready to bear fruit, you're certain to pass."

Song Yuan raised his wine cup. "May your auspicious words come true, Zisheng."

In truth, he was already growing disheartened. He had become a Recommended Man at twenty, brimming with youthful ambition, only to spend more than a decade taking examinations without success. Only recently had he begun considering whether he might use the Han Family's connections to obtain an appointment through the Ministry of Personnel.

Han Hui raised his cup as well, sighing inwardly.

He likewise did not think becoming a Cultivated Talent was particularly difficult. It merely meant entering the ranks of scholars. Anyone bright and diligent could achieve it at thirteen or fourteen. Even becoming a Recommended Man was nothing extraordinary. Only the Presented Scholar degree truly mattered.

He was already a Recommended Man, but after failing the examination the year before last, he had entered the Imperial College to pursue his studies. This time, he not only had to become a Presented Scholar, but also had to secure as high a ranking as possible.

The Han Family was a lineage of scholarship and high office, and his father had risen through the Hanlin Academy. His path was destined to run through the imperial examinations, and his ranking could not be too low, lest he disgrace his family.

Yu Zhen also smiled. "Ziyu, if you need collections of examination essays or annotated classics, come to me. There's no need to spend more silver buying them at the Ink and Brush Studio. I've gathered quite a few."

"Thank you, Brother Wendu," Jia Heng said.

As he grew closer to Han Hui and Yu Zhen, he had just learned their backgrounds: one was the son of Han Huang, the Present Court's Second Grand Secretary; the other was the son of Yu De, the Censorate's Right Assistant Censor-in-Chief. Both fathers belonged to the upright faction of civil officials.

Their banquet continued until the Early You Hour.

The Jia Residence in Liutiao Alley, off Ningrong Street.

Night hung low, and all was still.

It was already the middle of the Xu hour when Jia Heng reached home. He pushed open the gate and set the lantern he carried beneath the eaves of the main room.

"Brother Heng, why are you back so late?" Aunt Cai had clearly not gone to bed. She was sewing shoe soles by lamplight in the side room, and came out as she spoke.

Jia Heng drew a basin of water from the well and answered while washing his face, "I met a few friends at the Imperial College. They kept me for dinner."

Hearing movement in the courtyard, Qingwen stepped gracefully to the door of the main room with a towel already in her hands. She hurried over in little steps and held it out. "Here, young master."

Jia Heng took the towel and smiled. "Why are you still awake?" he asked gently.

The soft candlelight from the lantern beneath the eaves lent her pretty face an added tenderness. Her almond-shaped eyes reflected the youth's gentle, almost fatherly or brotherly expression.

"I couldn't sleep," Qingwen said in her clear voice, then asked, "Didn't you go to the Qin Family today, young master?"

Jia Heng wiped his face. "I went to the Qin Family in the morning and had lunch there, then went to the Imperial College in the afternoon. Oh, for the next little while, I'll be spending my days at the Imperial College and generally coming home rather late. Go to bed early. There's no need to wait for me."

"Brother Heng, there's hot water in the pot," Aunt Cai said with a smile. "Would you like a bath?"

Jia Heng nodded and smiled. "Go and rest, Aunt. I can manage on my own."

"It's no trouble." Aunt Cai went to fetch a wooden bucket, smiling as she continued, "I went to the Eastern Market this morning and spent the whole afternoon looking, but there wasn't anyone suitable."

Cai had actually wanted to find Jia Heng as pretty a maid as possible. Of course, after seeing such a lovely girl as Qingwen, her standards had unconsciously risen somewhat.

Realizing she meant buying a maid for the rough chores, Jia Heng gave a small smile. "There's no hurry. Take your time looking. Honesty and reliability matter most."

In Dream of the Red Chamber, Zhui'er, one of the maids assigned to rough chores in Baoyu's rooms, had stolen things, and the sick Qingwen had... given her quite a pricking with a needle.

If they brought in someone with sticky fingers who then quarreled with Qingwen, there was no telling how much trouble might follow.

He would be revising his studies for the next little while and really had no spare energy to deal with these household matters.

"Young master, I'll pour the hot water for you," Qingwen said. "I used to do this sort of thing all the time."

As she spoke, she went to fetch a wooden bucket too, her slender, frail figure showing a hint of stubbornness.

Aunt Cai hurried over to help her.

Jia Heng smiled and did not insist. He turned toward the study, intending to continue the half-chapter of Romance of the Three Kingdoms.

Beneath the east window, Jia Heng bent over the desk in concentration, writing with his brush. Its strokes raced like dragons and snakes, while sheets of writing paper piled up beside him.

He was writing very quickly now, using running script and no longer troubling himself over neatness. Legibility was enough; the Ink and Brush Studio would find someone to proofread it anyway.

"Young master, the hot water is ready." Qingwen entered the side room, her lashes lowered and her gaze hidden in their shadows. Her voice trembled almost imperceptibly, but she still lifted her head to look at the youth writing at his desk.

She had just realized something important: what if he asked her to attend him in the bath...?

Jia Heng looked up at Qingwen and smiled. "Get some hot water for yourself too. Wash your feet and go to bed early."

With that, he set down his brush, picked up a few changes of underclothes, and headed for the west room.

He could more or less guess what had made the young girl so uneasy.

He did not intend to say anything to dispel her worries.

A thousand words were worth less than silence.

Sure enough, as she watched Jia Heng walk straight away, Qingwen's gaze flickered, and she could not quite tell what she felt.

It was late at night. After bathing and changing into fresh underclothes, Jia Heng returned to the side room. Seeing that the third watch had not yet arrived, he decided to finish what remained of the second chapter.

In the room just beyond the wall, Qingwen had already removed her shoes and socks and washed her feet. She lay down fully dressed, but her bright almond-shaped eyes remained wide open, their black and white sharply distinct. She felt no sleepiness at all.

She had been learning the rules in the Jia Family household, and the Old Madam had not yet assigned her to any young master or young lady. Then, in the blink of an eye, she had been sent here. She had originally meant to make a scene... but this Master Heng treated people so kindly, without a trace of a master's temper, that she could not work up the slightest anger.

Even if I made a scene, I couldn't return to the household. What Sister Yuanyang gave him that day must have been my Servant Contract...

Qingwen gently closed her eyes, her thoughts tangled.

Seeing that the light behind the curtain was still burning, she put on an outer garment and rose again. She went to the little table, brewed a cup of tea, then lifted the curtain and entered the side room. The youth was writing furiously. After standing there for a moment, she said, "Young master, have some tea."

Jia Heng looked up, slightly surprised. "Oh, Qingwen. Is the candlelight keeping you awake?"

He knew some people were light sleepers and could not tolerate even the slightest light or noise.

Qingwen watched his face closely and shook her head. Her clear voice rose and fell as she said, "It doesn't bother me. It's only... you shouldn't strain your eyes writing late at night, young master."

Jia Heng paused, then smiled. "You're right. I'll stop now."

He placed his brush on its stand.

Seeing Jia Heng put away his paper and brush, Qingwen's gaze flickered. Without saying anything else, she set the tea bowl on the desk, then turned toward the bed to lay out his bedding.

Jia Heng put down his tea cup and rose. "I can do that myself."

Luckily, this body had no skill with needlework. Otherwise... his persona would crumble, and all his scholarly dignity would be swept away.

"What I learned in the household was how to serve people. Do you think I came here to be a pampered young lady? If word got out, who knows who might call me frivolous and say I had no sense of propriety." Qingwen spoke softly, seemingly regaining some of her spirited, imperious air.

"That wasn't what I meant," Jia Heng said. "I'm simply used to looking after myself. Once you've been here longer, you'll understand."