Chapter 276: Aren’t You Happy?

Chapter 276: Chapter 276: Aren’t You Happy?

Learning that Song Jing had passed, Ji Huan felt greatly relieved. She decided not to watch any longer, and she and Hu Ximei began to make their way back, pushing against the flow of the crowd.

"Yay! I knew it! There was no way Brother Song could fail the exam, right, Wan!"

Hu Ximei skipped and hopped ahead, then suddenly spun around to give Ji Huan a teasing, knowing look.

Ji Huan reached out and tugged her little braid. "You little imp."

Hu Ximei shielded her hair and dodged to the side.

As they were fooling around, they ran into Widow Xie, who was on her way back from watching the excitement at the village chief’s home.

Widow Xie sighed the moment she saw them. "Oh, Wuan... Ji the Fourth didn’t pass."

Ji Huan figured she was probably trying to express some regret, but ’what’s with that look of suppressed laughter on her face?’

Hu Ximei also asked, puzzled, "Yeah, Wan, why didn’t Mingmao’s uncle pass? I always hear the villagers say how amazing he is. I thought he was even better than Brother Song."

Ji Huan recalled what Widow Xie had said—how Aunt Kang had visited every famous temple in Yeyang after the New Year, praying to a whole pantheon of gods and Buddhas. The thought made her want to laugh.

Then again, before the mix-up was revealed, she had also thought that the deities Aunt Kang had prayed to had actually worked.

"This just goes to show, you can’t pray to Confucian, Buddhist, and Daoist deities all at once. They’re not from the same divine camp; they’re bound to get into a fight sooner or later."

When she got home, Dabao was still asleep from his afternoon nap.

Not long after, the siblings from the main branch of the family came over. As soon as Ji Mingfang entered, he headed straight for the backyard, clearly intending to get to work.

"You’ve been working hard for days. It’s rare you get a day off, so why not stay home and get some proper rest?"

Ji Xuelan stopped her and said in a low voice, "Let him go. He can’t sit still at home anyway."

Ji Huan already knew the history of the feud between Ji Mingfang and Ji Liantang.

Now that Ji Liantang had failed the county exam again, one would think Ji Mingfang should be happy. After all, it was satisfying to see justice served.

But judging from his expression just now, he didn’t seem to be taking much pleasure in it.

’That’s true. What difference does it make whether Ji Liantang is successful or not?’

He could fail once, fail twice, or even fail every time, but he would always have the chance to try again.

But Ji Mingfang... he had never even had a single chance, and he never would.

Ji Huan shook her head and decided to let him be.

The courtyard grew quiet again, returning to its usual peace. Outside, however, the celebration was still in full swing.

Or perhaps, the celebration was just beginning.

At Village Chief Meng’s home in the east end of the village, the air was thick with the aroma of wine and meat, and the house was overflowing with guests. A suona band had set up at the courtyard gate, energetically playing one tune after another.

Tables and stools filled the space both inside and outside the courtyard. They had even hired a master chef from a neighboring village—one who specialized in banquets for all occasions—to take charge of the cooking.

Even though it was well past noon and most people had just finished their own meals, no one minded joining the festivities.

It was a wonderful opportunity to both soak in the good fortune and enjoy a feast.

Meng Laosan borrowed a horse from a bailiff and rode to town to bring Song Jing back.

Song Jing’s arrival brought the celebration to its peak.

Everyone rose to their feet, offering him toasts and congratulations.

"Scholar, you’ve truly brought honor to our Dafeng Village..."

"Scholar, you’re incredible, amazing..."

"Scholar, come and tell us..."

It was "Scholar" this and "Scholar" that from all sides. Everyone jostled to get closer to Song Jing, hoping to curry favor and make a good impression.

Surrounded by the crowd, Song Jing showed no trace of impatience, clasping his hands and returning every greeting.

"Uncles and brothers, I possess no great ability. My success today is all thanks to the nurturing environment of Dafeng Village and the good fortune of all my fellow villagers. Please, eat and drink to your heart’s content. Today, we must all enjoy ourselves."

His words were courteous and well-measured, devoid of any pride or arrogance. It was as if he were still just one of the village’s younger generation, not some lofty, unapproachable Scholar.

The chorus of praise grew even louder, but now the crowd felt too embarrassed to continue blocking his path.

After freeing himself from the crowd, Song Jing entered the courtyard.

The scene in the courtyard was much like the one outside—just as loud and bustling.

Song Jing managed the crowd and entered the main hall, where he thanked the bailiffs and their aides.

Afterwards, Village Chief Meng tried to get him to stay and drink with the guests, but Song Jing shook his head, saying he wanted to go home and check on Mrs. Meng.

"Ah, very well. You’re a Scholar now, so you don’t need to... Anyway, I’ll entertain everyone here. You should hurry back and see your mother. She’s been so worried these past few days that she’s barely eaten or slept."

Song Jing nodded, offered his apologies to the guests, and then took his leave, exiting the courtyard.

On the road, he encountered more villagers, which meant another unavoidable round of greetings and small talk.

It wasn’t until he turned into his own alley that things finally became quiet. Song Jing was a little surprised by the silence, but he understood when he saw the tightly shut courtyard gate.

Hearing Song Jing’s footsteps, Mrs. Meng rushed out to open the gate. Before he could say a word, she grabbed his arm and dragged him into the main hall.

"Jing’er, kneel! Kowtow to your father, quickly!"

Mrs. Meng pointed to the memorial tablet in the center of the altar table, her expression fraught with emotion.

Song Jing paused for a moment before kneeling as he was told.

"Wenzhao, did you see? Our son is a Scholar! He’s a Scholar... He’s no less than you, he hasn’t brought you shame! Open your eyes and look!"

As she spoke, she broke down into hysterical sobs.

Who could have imagined that the Scholar, the object of everyone’s envy, would return home not to praise and encouragement from his family, but to a scene like this?

And Song Jing had experienced scenes like this far too many times.

After every beating, Mrs. Meng would force him to kneel before the memorial tablet. Over time, the sight of the tablet no longer stirred any emotion in him at all.

Mrs. Meng swayed unsteadily before collapsing to the floor, her cries utterly desolate.

Song Jing shuffled forward on his knees, moving to help her up.

"Your health is poor. The doctor said you can’t experience extreme sorrow or..."

He never finished his sentence.

After a sharp CRACK, Song Jing’s head snapped to the side, the clear imprint of five fingers already swelling on his cheek.

Mrs. Meng pointed at him, her face, still streaked with tears, contorted in a mask of fury.

"Are you even human? Do you have a heart?! He was your father, you ungrateful monster, and you can’t even shed a single tear! You’ve completely forgotten him! I gave birth to an animal! Why did I ever give birth to you? If it weren’t for you, my life wouldn’t be so miserable! I’ll beat you to death—"

Mrs. Meng raised her hand to strike again, but Song Jing’s hand shot out and seized her wrist.

"Mother." Song Jing slowly turned his head back to face her, speaking one deliberate word at a time. "You promised you wouldn’t hit me anymore."

The worst of the beatings had been during his childhood. Things had improved slightly as he grew up, and the year he’d passed the exam to become a child student, Mrs. Meng, overjoyed, had promised she would never strike him again.

Mrs. Meng froze. This was the first time that Song Jing, her ever-obedient and submissive son, had ever defied her.

When she snapped out of her stupor, her rage surged, rampaging through her body like a physical force trying to tear its way out.

Yet Song Jing’s gaze remained locked on hers, firm and unwavering, clearly communicating his stance.

’Yes, the boy has grown up. He won’t compromise anymore. He won’t let me beat and curse him anymore.’

Mrs. Meng stared blankly, silent. Then, Song Jing spoke.

"Mother, you’re right. I have forgotten my father. I used to be able to remember him, but every time you made me kneel before this tablet, made me repent to it... the memory of my father faded from my mind, replaced by this piece of wood..."

’What good would it do to cry in front of a piece of wood?’

’Would this piece of wood give me a bowl of rice when I was starving?’

’No.’

’Would it protect me when Mother beat me?’

’No.’

’Would it offer a hand when I needed help?’

’No.’

’It was just a piece of wood.’

Tears began to stream down Mrs. Meng’s face as she stared, dumbfounded, as if only now realizing what she had done.

"Jing’er! Does it hurt? Does it hurt? I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have hit you. I promised I wouldn’t hit you anymore..."

She mumbled incoherently, reaching out to touch Song Jing’s face, only then noticing that half of it was already swollen.

Song Jing pulled away from her touch and asked with great seriousness.

"Mother, you said that if I became a Scholar, you’d be happy for the rest of your life. I’ve done it now. Aren’t you happy?"

Mrs. Meng nodded frantically. "I’m happy, I’m so happy... Jing’er, in all my life, today is the happiest day."

Song Jing managed a small smile.

"In that case, there’s something I’d like to tell you..."

This was a rare opportunity, so Song Jing decided to take the chance to tell her about his feelings for Ji Huan. That way, he could start preparing for certain matters ahead of time.

Mrs. Meng had once told him that as long as he became a Scholar, he could do whatever he wanted, and she would never stop him.

He didn’t have many aspirations; he just wanted to marry Ji Huan.

Mrs. Meng’s emotions had stabilized considerably. She wiped away her tears and pulled Song Jing to his feet. "Perfect. I have something to tell you, too."