WSMTATMC C74

Chapter 74

Mid-Autumn Festival was approaching, and the household was busy preparing for the celebrations.

To make things lively, Wang Ying had especially asked Chen Qingyan to call back Liang Boqing, Qinghuai, and Qingsong from the manor to join them in town.

Normally, Old Master Liang would be reluctant to come, but with little Yuanbao at home this year, he cheerfully accepted the invitation.

Yuanbao was already seven months old and had grown four new teeth; along with drinking milk, he could now eat some soft foods.

Wang Ying often peeled peaches and apples, steaming them and mashing them into fruit purée for Yuanbao—an old trick he remembered from his grandmother, both nutritious and good for stimulating the appetite.

Though still too young to speak, Yuanbao could now recognize people: if asked which was “Ah Fu” (father) or which was “Dad,” he’d always point correctly.

Master Liang absolutely doted on little Yuanbao. Each time he visited, he insisted on holding the child, only to have his beard grabbed—Yuanbao’s quick hands always latched on before he could defend himself, leaving Liang with a mild psychological trauma. Whenever he held Yuanbao, he’d lean back protectively, afraid the child would rip his beard off.

In this dynasty, it wasn’t customary to eat mooncakes for Mid-Autumn. Every year, people prepared fruits and wine and, on the fifteenth night, offered them in a ritual to honor the moon.

The wine was osmanthus brew, mellow and slightly sweet, something even those who didn’t usually drink might enjoy.

After lunch, Wang Ying decided to experiment with making mooncakes.

He had had wooden molds custom-carved a few days ago—two palm-sized designs, one with ‘Blossoms and Full Moon’, the other with ‘Mid-Autumn Reunion’.

Though Wang Ying had never made mooncakes in his former life, he had experience baking pastries and thought it should be similar.

The dough was just flour with oil and sugar. For filling, he made one batch of five-nut mooncake with sunflower seeds, peanuts, walnuts, almonds, and sesame, and another with red sugar and red bean paste.

He packed the filling into the dough, pressed them into the wooden molds for their pattern, brushed with egg wash, and baked them in the stove.

Aunt Chen watched, amazed. “Langjun, what are these?”

“Mooncakes. I learned the recipe from a book. First attempt, so I don’t know if they’ll work.”

“They look lovely—pretty like flowers. I bet they’ll taste good.”

The first batch came out after about twenty minutes, but the mooncakes were all cracked. The taste, though, was delicious—the aroma of roasted nuts and sugar made everyone’s mouth water.

Wang Ying gave the cracked pieces to Aunt Chen, suggesting she take them home for her family to try.

The second batch, baked at a lower temperature for about twenty minutes, came out perfect: each mooncake a golden brown, their color and texture beautiful to behold.

Once cooled, Wang Ying brought them to the main family room. As he entered, he heard laughter. “What’s so funny?”

“Ah Ying, come here!” Madam Li pointed at Yuanbao and laughed, “He just crawled over to fetch a stalk from Qingsong’s hand all by himself!”

“Impressive little guy!” Wang Ying set down the mooncakes and hoisted his son onto his shoulder.

Yuanbao promptly began gnawing on Wang Ying’s hairpin.

“Stop, or I’ll end up drenched in your drool!”

Qingyun and Qingsong crowded around the table. “Sister-in-law, what’s this delicious smell?”

Wang Ying, still removing the hairpin from his son’s mouth, explained, “Mooncakes—they’re for the Mid-Autumn Festival. I made two flavors. Come try them.”

Everyone eagerly sampled the treats.

Madam Li bit in, “Mmm, sweet and fragrant—these pastries are great!”

Wang Ying took a red bean one himself. The taste was a little dry, but otherwise just as he remembered from his past life.

Liang Boqing, lifting a mooncake in his palm, spontaneously started a couplet:

“Jade plate emerges from fairy tower, moon and sugar enrobed in dough. Qingyan, give me the next line.”

After pondering a bit, Chen Qingyan responded: “Wholeness and waning turn to taste, distant hearts by moon’s glow traced.”

Liang stroked his beard, “Needs more elegance. Qingsong, your turn.”

“Uh—” Qingsong hastily swallowed, frowned in concentration, then said, “Autumn wind condenses cassia dew, laughter fills the courtyard anew.”

“Respectable effort. Qinghuai?”

Qinghuai cleared his throat: “Sending longing far away, ten thousand homes cast lamps that sway.”

Liang nodded wordlessly, understanding Qinghuai was homesick.

Just then, the gatekeeper Lin Zai rushed in, “Old madam, master, langjun—some constables at the door! They bring good news!”

Wang Ying spun around, Madam Li jumped up, “Is it possible? Has there finally been word?”

Chen Qingyan was still confused. “What news?”

“Come on! Let’s go see!”

Master Liang, with Yuanbao in arm, led the way, walking swiftly despite his age. The rest hurried after.

The two constables from the county office beamed, holding a document. “Congratulations, Young Master Chen—your injustice has been redressed, you are restored to the civil exam registry!”

For a moment, the words buzzed in Chen Qingyan’s head in disbelief. Only when he saw Wang Ying silently nod did he slowly step forward.

The document, issued by the Ministry of Rites, described the entire case in detail—138 characters recounting every aspect. Given the matter involved exam fraud, the government had investigated thoroughly; otherwise, if such injustices were common, the system would collapse.

On orders from the Ministry, Jizhou officials sent two men to Longquan to investigate. The cheat notes were retrieved from county records, and compared against Qingyan’s and Zhang Shiqiu’s writing samples. The differences were clear.

Qingyan’s habit was to write in square, strong regular script. Zhang’s was thin and slanted, with erased sections—not a convincing imitation.

The two had also lived in the same place, and with all persons and events matching, the officials reversed the verdict.

A large part of the credit belonged to the Grand Minister of Agriculture.

At first, Wen Yanping hadn’t intended to get involved; he and Liang Boqing were not that close, just old classmates. But after harvest in May, the special wheat from Jizhou produced as much as 60–70% more than the rest!

What did that mean? If all the nation’s wheat increased by that much, everyone would have enough to eat, and the country would be prosperous!

So he prioritized the case, leveraging his connections to finally clear Qingyan’s name.

Hands trembling, Chen Qingyan received his exoneration, his eyes blurring with tears. He had waited three years for this day.

He was unlucky: framed by a friend, stripped of his qualification; yet lucky, for his friends and family’s help had won him justice.

This was only the second time in Wu Dynasty history that a student had been cleared of cheating.

Chen Qingyan knelt to bow to Liang Boqing three times. “Thank you, Master!”

Liang quickly helped him up. “You’re a good child—don’t waste this opportunity.”

“I won’t!”

Madam Li ordered the servants to distribute rewards: one tael of silver to each constable. Delighted, they beamed.

Delivering good news was a happy task, sure to bring gifts. The constables had used connections to secure this job, expecting a few coins but getting a windfall. Their congratulations were especially sincere: “Congratulations, Young Master Chen! May you earn honors soon!”

“Thank you, officers! Do stay for some food?”

“No, we’re on duty elsewhere.” They quickly declined. Better to celebrate at a restaurant, since they were carrying extra cash.

After the officers left, the family erupted in joy. Qingsong was the happiest, waving his arms and shouting, “Great! Big brother can take the exams again!” (Now I won’t have to carry heavy loads any more!)—though he didn’t dare say that last part out loud for fear of a scolding.

With such joyful news, everyone drank a little extra at dinner.

Chen Qingyan remained in a daze, not quite waking from happiness, and kept asking Wang Ying to pinch him: “Am I dreaming?”

Wang Ying smacked his shoulder, “Idiot, you’re not dreaming. It’s really over.”

Chen Qingyan sighed, “I’ve dreamed of this moment so many times, always hoping for exoneration. Now that it’s real, it almost feels unreal.”

Master Liang, picking up a dish, teased, “Don’t get too happy. If you fail at your exams, don’t tell anyone you’re my disciple—don’t disgrace me!”

“Understood…” Chen Qingyan hurried to refill his master’s wine cup.

Since his civil status was restored, Chen Qingyan could now prepare for the exams—for next year, there was no county exam, so he’d have to wait until February the year after that, when he could test together with Qinghuai.

Liang Boqing said, “That’s a major year: if the county exam goes smoothly, you’ll take the prefecture exam in April, then the provincial exam in August.”

Normally, candidates would study for a few years before taking the provincial exam, but since Qingyan had already lost enough time, Liang planned to let him try straight away.

“Sir, do I really have a chance?”

“Why wouldn’t you? What could you learn from those old scholars in the prefecture academy?”

The truth was, most academy teachers were bottom-tier juren who couldn’t secure a government post, while real talent was found in the national academy—though that was out of reach for most.

As Master Liang sipped wine, he gossiped about the capital. Although he’d never been in the exams, all his friends were leading scholars; any one of them was a top name.

Liang had always been proud, never putting others above himself—and had reason to be proud. Now that he had a star pupil, he was especially eager to show him off among his peers, lest they think he was only a show-off without substance.

With the full moon high above, Liang became tipsy and was escorted by Qinghuai and Qingsong to rest. Madam Li and Qingyun carried the sleeping Yuanbao back to their room.

Only Chen Qingyan and Wang Ying remained outside.

“Raise our cups to the bright moon—three shadows toasting together!” Wang Ying was a little drunk, clinking his glass with Chen Qingyan.

“Ah Ying, you’re tipsy.”

“I’m just happy! When you pass the juren exam and become an official, our son will be a real official’s child. Let’s see who would dare look down on us then!”

“Yes, I’ll study hard and do my best.” Chen Qingyan grabbed the wine from him and carried Wang Ying to the back courtyard.

That night, shadow and moonlight tangled together; their entwined silhouettes did not part.

Footnotes:

1. Mid-Autumn Festival (仲秋节) was originally focused more on ritual offerings to the moon and not always associated with eating mooncakes, which became a later folk custom. 
2. The juren (举人) and civil service exam system formed the main path for advancement in imperial China, and regaining the right to sit for the exam was often life-changing for scholars and families alike. 
3. Blossoms and Full Moon, Mid-Autumn Reunion — common poetic phrases for mooncake and Mid-Autumn festival molds, symbolizing harmony and family reunion. 
4. Five-nut mooncake (五仁月饼) — a traditional mooncake filling featuring a blend of various nuts and seeds. 
5. The case of exam cheating was particularly serious in imperial China and sometimes was only redressed if a high official intervened.