WSMTATMC C67

Chapter 67

Today was the first day of the county-level examination. After escorting Chen Qinghuai into the exam site, Master Liang Boqing found a teahouse to sit and drink.

It happened to be a rare day of good weather—the temperature much higher than the previous days, and all the snow on the rooftops was beginning to melt, dripping off the eaves.

The teahouse was crowded, mostly with family and friends of the exam candidates. The talk everywhere revolved around the county exams.

The county-level exam consisted of three rounds, each held on consecutive days. If the good weather persisted, as today, as long as Qinghuai performed normally there should be no problem.

While sipping tea, two others asked if they could share his table, to which Liang Boqing gladly agreed.

The pair took note of Liang’s cultivated appearance and initiated conversation: “Sir, are you also here to accompany someone for the county exam?”

“Yes, I’m here with my nephew for the county exam.”

“What a coincidence! We’re also here for our family’s child. We just hope he does well this time—in fact, this is his second attempt. The first time he was too nervous and messed up; this time, we’re determined to succeed. If he doesn’t pass, we won’t come again next year.”

From their talk, Liang learned that they came from another town, and this was indeed their second try. The first time had failed due to nerves; this time, their determination was higher, but if unsuccessful, they would give up the following year.

Stroking his beard, Liang commented, “The county exam isn’t too hard—the real challenge comes after: the prefectural and provincial exams. That’s where thousands compete for a small chance to cross the bridge.”

“Ai, we dare not think that far ahead. If our child passes as a licentiate, that’ll be a blessing already—enough to hold a clerk’s post and marry. We’d be satisfied.”

The rationale was certainly practical. But for Chen Qinghuai, as Liang’s disciple, if he didn’t pass the provincial exam one day, it would become a running joke among his peers.

Noon came, and the two invited Liang to lunch.

“No, thanks. My nephew is sitting for his first county exam. If something happens and he can’t find me, I’d better wait here.”

They bowed and left.

That afternoon, the weather suddenly changed. Where the morning had been clear, now darkness gathered.

As it grew gloomier, Liang’s face tightened. Fate is always mischievous.

The north wind swept up the lingering snow, slicing like a knife. The shrieking wind rattled the doors and windows; many around him started to look worried.

If the next two days were also like this, Liang would absolutely not let Qinghuai continue the exam. Passing the licentiate was not worth risking one’s life.

“Almost there, almost there—young master, just a little more strength!”

Wang Ying clutched the bedding, pain making his vision blur. His clothes were soaked through—he couldn’t even tell if it was from sweat or cold. His body trembled uncontrollably.

Madam Li stood beside, crying anxiously. Though she had birthed three children herself, she had never seen a labor so difficult. She had always heard it was harder for a gē’er to give birth than for a woman, and now she felt the worry in her bones.

Outside, Chen Qingyan couldn’t bear it any longer—he pounded the door. “Mother, how is Ah Ying?!”

“Not yet! Wait a bit longer!”

As night fell, seven or eight lamps glowed in the room. The two midwives were sweating in nerves.

They had delivered many children before, but none so perilous as this. Normally, the hips would open and the water would break, but because Wang Ying had fallen and his water broke early, his bones opened too slowly.

“Madam, please have someone boil brown sugar-egg soup for him—otherwise, he may not have the strength.”

“Yes, yes! Right away!” Madam Li hurried out to instruct the servants.

The children crowded her immediately: “Mother, how’s sister-in-law?”

She couldn’t bear to tell them how dangerous it was. “It’ll be a while longer.”

“Why is it taking so long? His voice is already hoarse…”

“Don’t worry—just wait quietly.” Madam Li hurried back to the bedroom. More than two hours had already passed since his water broke.

Soon, the piping-hot brown sugar-egg soup arrived—not only for Wang Ying, but for everyone.

Madam Li let the midwives rest and sat down to feed Wang Ying spoonful by spoonful.

After eating the soup, Wang Ying felt a bit of energy rising up. But just as he tried to push, another gush of water spilled from below.

“Oh no!” The two midwives quickly put down their bowls and came to check.

“This is bad, this is bad — why so much water all at once?”

The other midwife pressed his belly, her face dark. “There’s nothing to do; hurry and bear down…”

She didn’t voice the rest: without amniotic fluid, the child would suffocate if too long in labor. If they couldn’t deliver soon, it could be a double tragedy.

Wang Ying also sensed the danger. Gritting his teeth, he channeled all his remaining strength.

Fifteen minutes, thirty, forty-five…

“Almost! The child’s head is out!”

“Keep pushing!”

Wang Ying gripped the bedding so tight his fingernails tore. He paid no heed. All he could feel was his body splitting in two.

Outside, Chen Qingyan was in tears, finally bursting through the door. “Ah Ying, I’m here—I’ll stay with you!”

“What are you doing in here?”

“I want to be with Ah Ying, no matter what happens!”

He moved to the bedside, holding Wang Ying’s hand and wiping his forehead. “Soon we’ll have our own child—just a little more!”

Wang Ying, delirious with pain, cursed: “Damn it—it hurts like hell… Chen Qingyan, this one’s taking your surname!”

“No more, we’re not having any more!”

“Ahh…!” A surge of pain, a sense of gut-dropping release—suddenly, all felt still.

“He’s out! The child’s out!”

The relief was brief. No baby’s cry filled the room. The silence grew dreadful.

Wang Ying lay, panting, “Child… where’s the child… let me see…”

Chen Qingyan’s eyes rimmed red. “Rest, don’t—”

Wang Ying sensed something amiss. “No, bring the child. Let me see!”

Madam Li turned away, weeping. The midwives looked ashamed. It was a boy, but he’d been too long in the womb—born lifeless.

“Quick—bring him to me!”

Chen Qingyan, torn with grief, handed over the swaddled baby.

The infant’s features were delicate but blue with lack of oxygen, utterly still.

Wang Ying pressed tiny chest and began CPR, mouth-to-mouth—he refused to believe the baby was gone. Only yesterday he’d been kicking in the belly. How could he be stillborn?

Once, twice, again and again. The fragile body moved with each push—Wang Ying dared not press too hard, afraid of breaking him.

“Wake up, baby, please wake up—open your eyes, meet your father…”

No response. The little body grew colder.

Wang Ying shook his head in despair. The child hadn’t even seen this world…

Suddenly a prompt popped into his mind:

“Congratulations, host, the experimental field has been upgraded to Level 5. Stage rewards are now available. Do you wish to use a reward?”

Wang Ying froze, then answered yes.

“According to the strength of your desire, there are three rewards:

1. Return to your original world; 
2. Revive the child before you; 
3. Restore Chen Qingyan’s exam eligibility.

   Please choose one.” 

He could return home?

But what would he return to? No family, no lover—nothing but never-ending theses, a blank future.

Almost without hesitation, he chose the second option. He knew, even if he asked, Chen Qingyan would make the same choice.

“Rewards cannot be changed. Are you sure?”

“Confirm!”

“Stage reward active. Please check immediately.”

“Waa…” A weak baby’s wail broke the silence. Everyone rushed forward in astonishment.

“He’s alive?! Alive!”

“The baby’s saved!”

Madam Li knelt in gratitude, sobbing, “Amitabha, thank you, gods above…”

Wang Ying collapsed, limp, as midwives cleaned and checked the child, finally handing him to Chen Qingyan.

“Congratulations, Master, congratulations, Young Lord—a fine son!”

Wang Ying tried to hold him but was too weak. Voices faded around him as he slipped into darkness, lost even as he heard Chen Qingyan’s laughter.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he awoke in deep fog, directionless.

He wandered until he spotted a figure squatting by the road—startled, it was Zhang Shiqiu, dead long ago, face gore-streaked, lunging at him, “You wronged me—you owe a life!”

Wang Ying fled. After a long run, someone called his name.

“Ah Ying! Ah Ying!”

Turning, he found his grandparents, who took his hand, peering at him with loving faces.

Tears streamed as he hugged his small, old relatives. “Grandpa, Grandma, I miss you so much…”

His grandma stroked his cheek. “Good child—you’ve suffered so much these years.”

Wang Ying sobbed, shaking his head—those hard days had passed.

When they’d died, he alone handled their funerals, so weary it felt a whole layer shed from his soul. He knew, from then on, there was no one to rely on.

Yet now, meeting them again, he couldn’t bear to let go.

Grandpa knocked him on the head: “This isn’t your place—you must go back.”

“But I can’t leave you.”

“Good child, your road is still long. We can’t keep you forever. Go now.”

“Grandpa, Grandma!”

He struggled awake, blurry-eyed, to see Chen Qingyan’s unshaven, haggard face. Gripping Wang Ying’s hand tightly, Chen cried, “Ah Ying, you’re finally awake—you’ve slept for three days!”

Footnotes

• County-level exam (县试): An official literary exam crucial to entering government service in imperial China. 
• Brown sugar-egg soup (红糖鸡蛋): Traditional for supporting energy during or after childbirth. 
• Five Animal Frolics (五禽戏): An ancient Chinese health exercise—Qingyan is said to practice this for health, as alluded in the previous chapter.