Ch 88: Reborn to Raise My Husband

The results of the palace examination were released five days later.

The grading was overseen by the Minister of Rites, with over twenty officials from the Grand Secretariat, Hanlin Academy, and other departments assisting in the process at Wenhua Hall.

Each of the 120 examination papers was circulated through every examiner’s hands, each marking it with one of five ranks.

After three days of review, the supervising officials presented the top ten essays to the emperor, who personally read them and determined the final rankings.

The first three were designated as First Class; the fourth through tenth as Second Class.

Once the seals were removed and the names written in, the completed list became the Golden List.

On the fifteenth day of the month, the Golden List was finally posted. In or out—one glance told all.

“Hmm…”

Qi Beinan looked at the board and murmured softly, then turned to Xiao Yuanbao. “Neither surprise nor disappointment,” he said.

Perhaps because Qi Beinan had reassured him over the past few days that his answers were steady and his performance in the palace exam solid, Xiao Yuanbao had come expecting him to pass as a jinshi. With that confidence, he wasn’t nearly as nervous now.

Still, part of him had secretly hoped for more. Given Qi Beinan’s top ranking in the metropolitan exam, it would have been a shame if the palace exam had pushed him back.

But when his eyes fell on the name “Qi Beinan” listed as third in the First Class, all doubts vanished.

At that moment, he exhaled a long-held breath, the tension dissolving into sheer joy.

Whatever the ranking—whether thrilling or not—stability alone was enough to make Xiao Yuanbao’s heart bloom. His eyes sparkled like stars.

He bit his lower lip to hold back his excitement, careful not to draw attention. He remembered well the chaos at the last announcement, when merchants had swarmed the successful candidates, trying to seize eligible scholars for their daughters.

He silently thanked the heavens he had come to the capital, and that he and Qi Beinan had come to see the results together—otherwise, someone might have dragged his “brother” off to a carriage before he could intervene.

This, after all, was not just any list. This was the Golden List of the palace exam, where the names inscribed would soon become newly appointed officials, granted positions by imperial decree—far above the tribute scholars of the earlier rounds.

If people realized the new tanhua was standing right there among them, they might have thrown all propriety aside and carried Qi Beinan off on the spot.

They next checked the names of Jiang Tangyuan and Luo Tingfeng—both had passed.

Jiang Tangyuan ranked twelfth in the Second Class, while Luo Tingfeng was twenty-second.

Compared to Qi Beinan, their results were lesser, but among the vast sea of scholars, still remarkable achievements.

The three congratulated each other politely but didn’t linger long. Such joyous news had to be shared with family and friends, and they would soon need to receive the congratulatory officials. They agreed to meet again after the formalities.

This time, the officials who came to announce the success were extraordinarily warm, their flattery especially effusive.

Qi Beinan, now a First-Class jinshi and tanhua (third in rank), received far grander rewards than during the metropolitan exam.

When Xiao Yuanbao saw the procession of officials carrying boxes and trays—some even balancing large chests tied with red silk on poles—he assumed they were for multiple households. Translated on Hololo novels. Only when everything was brought into their own residence did he realize every piece of it belonged to his brother.

The announcing officer received a heavy pouch of silver and said cheerfully, “I’ve served as a congratulatory officer many times, but rarely have I seen such abundant imperial rewards. Clearly, His Majesty holds the Grand Scholar in high favor.”

Qi Beinan replied, “His Majesty’s boundless grace humbles this student.”

As the official drank his tea, Xiao Yuanbao smiled and asked, “His Majesty must truly cherish scholars. But tell me, do all the newly appointed jinshi receive such lavish rewards? You must be very busy these days.”

The man laughed. “To serve as a messenger of joy is an honor. How could I complain of fatigue?”

Then he added, “But this abundance of gifts, I must say, is for the First-Class jinshi only. Those in the Second and Third Classes receive much less.”

Hearing this, Xiao Yuanbao’s delight grew even stronger.

Qi Beinan knew well Emperor Kaide’s temperament. This year’s First-Class scholars were all young, handsome men—the emperor, pleased with both their talent and appearance, had evidently decided to be generous.

After finishing his tea, the official reminded Qi Beinan to attend the palace ceremony of proclamation the next day, then departed.

Overjoyed, Xiao Yuanbao ran inside to inspect the gifts.

It was his favorite part of the process—unpacking the rewards. Fame and rank were abstract things, distant and intangible. But the imperial gifts—those he could touch, hold, and marvel at.

First came a set of scarlet brocade jinshi robes, complete with a black gauze hat and polished leather boots.

Next, a chest of official documents: the jinshi certificate, admonitory scrolls, and others. Most striking was the new token—engraved with large characters reading “Tanhua,” bordered with fine script recording the examination year.

Xiao Yuanbao admired it; this one was far grander than any he’d seen before.

Then came a dark green case containing a white jade ruyi scepter, two folding fans with jade ribs, and a plum-blossom patterned pouch carved of translucent green jade.

“The emperor seems quite fond of jade,” Xiao Yuanbao remarked.

Qi Beinan smiled. “A gentleman should be like jade.”

He recalled Emperor Kaide once saying the same during a banquet when he’d summoned the handsome Hanlin scholars to accompany him at wine.

Finally, Xiao Yuanbao opened the large chest that had been carried in.

Inside was a full collection of brocades and silks—twelve bolts in all.

Each pattern, each weave was exquisite, flawless in craftsmanship.

He thought every single bolt was exquisite, far finer than any he had ever seen in a fabric shop. Even the delicate Wan Yue gauze, once considered clever and rare, now seemed frivolous beside these superb silks and brocades.

He liked the gifts immensely, but still wondered aloud, “Brother is a jinshi now. It makes sense for the emperor to reward you with brushes, ink, and paper, but why so much fabric?”

Qi Beinan laughed. “To dress in bright robes and ride a fine steed—perhaps that’s what His Majesty believes a good young man should look like.”

Xiao Yuanbao smiled to himself. “The emperor is certainly more thoughtful and understanding than those stiff-necked old scholars.”

Qi Beinan chuckled softly, slipped his arms around Xiao Yuanbao from behind, and asked in a low voice, “Are you happy?”

The brush of his chin against Xiao Yuanbao’s neck tickled; Xiao Yuanbao nodded.

How could he not be happy? His beloved wasn’t just a new jinshi, but the tanhua, third of all in the realm. Few could boast such fortune.

Even in storybooks, such tales of triumph were always the most stirring.

Qi Beinan pressed his chin lightly against Xiao Yuanbao’s soft cheek. “If you’re happy, then I am too.”

“Tomorrow,” he added, “come to the street to see me in the procession.”

“Of course I will,” said Xiao Yuanbao. “I’ve already asked Qin Jiang to reserve a good spot at the Anhua Pavilion and to buy fresh flowers. When you ride by tomorrow, I’ll throw them to you myself.”

It was an old tradition. After the jinshi ceremony at court, the newly ranked scholars would leave the Hall of Supreme Harmony and return home along the main street. Crowds would gather to watch, cheering and celebrating.

When young women saw the elegant, handsome scholars ride by in their crimson robes, they would throw embroidered pouches or handkerchiefs toward them. Over time, this custom became formalized, and the top-ranking jinshi—the zhuangyuan, bangyan, and tanhua—were required to parade once through the inner city streets on horseback.

But as more and more onlookers crowded in, mischief followed. Some resentful men began hiding sharp objects inside the pouches, injuring the scholars.

After that, the court banned the throwing of sachets, allowing only flowers—and only along the section near Anhua Pavilion.

Qi Beinan nodded with a smile. “All right.”

That evening, they sent letters home.

Though the Ministry of Rites would already dispatch official notices to the provincial offices, which would then forward them to the counties, letters from family were still more personal.

The imperial couriers rode swiftly, but even so, by the time Xiao Hu received word that Qi Beinan had passed as a jinshi, it was already June.

Outside the county school, a great red board was posted with the names of those who had passed. The whole city was abuzz—this year, not only had two men from their county become jinshi, one of them had placed third in the empire. Students crowded to read the board, full of admiration and envy.

Zhao Guangzong, Ma Junyi, and other classmates who had once studied alongside Qi Beinan wrote letters to the capital to offer their congratulations.

In the village, Xiao Hu became a man of prestige overnight. Wherever he went, people congratulated him. Even the village elders and local gentry greeted him with deferential smiles.

The newly appointed county magistrate, who had taken office in May, even sent an invitation to have tea with him.

Xiao Hu, unaccustomed to such social attention, politely declined, saying he would visit after the tanhua returned home.

Once a quiet, fearsome hunter, he had suddenly become the pride of the entire county.

His joy was boundless—not merely because of his newfound respect among neighbors, but because the child he had raised had achieved such greatness.

He asked Zhao Guangzong to help him write a long letter to Qi Beinan and Xiao Yuanbao, which he sent through the courier station.

In the city, families who knew the two were also overjoyed. Qin Piaotou, returning from a trade run, beamed with pride when he heard that Qi Beinan had placed tanhua, delighted that his son had long followed a man destined for high office.

Such was the happiness filling Ling County after the news arrived.

Back in the capital—

At dawn on the fifteenth day, before the sky had fully brightened, Qi Beinan rose early.

Today was the chuanlü ceremony at court, when the emperor would personally proclaim the new jinshi. It was a solemn affair—every detail had to be perfect.

He bathed in hot water scented with the fine soap he usually saved, brushed his teeth with the best tooth powder, and dressed carefully.

After drying off, he put on his inner robes, then the jinshi robe that had been hung before the incense burner all night to absorb its fragrance.

He tied his hair, pulled on his boots, and already carried himself with the air of springtime triumph.

When Xiao Yuanbao lifted the bamboo curtain and entered with breakfast, he stopped short, momentarily dazed.

Before him stood the tall figure of the newly appointed jinshi.

Qi Beinan’s frame was straight and sturdy as a pine, and the fine crimson robes fit him perfectly. Neither the man nor the garment diminished the other.

He had always preferred dark, steady colors since boyhood, rarely wearing anything bright. Yet the deep red of the jinshi robe did not clash with him—it lent him an air of brilliance and dignity.

Even without the weight of rank or honor, Qi Beinan’s posture and bearing alone would have been enough to draw every eye. Now, with this robe of status, he was dazzling.

So this, Xiao Yuanbao thought, must be what people meant when they said handsome as the wind, graceful as jade.

Though he had seen that same face for over ten years, today, seeing Qi Beinan like this, his heart still leapt wildly in his chest.

Qi Beinan noticed him standing frozen at the doorway, eyes wide, and stepped forward to take his hand. “Why do you still act shy about coming into my room? We’ve already agreed to marry next year. I wrote to Uncle Xiao about it just yesterday.”

Xiao Yuanbao pressed his lips together. Today was a day of great joy, one of the brightest moments in Qi Beinan’s life, and he didn’t want to be stingy with praise. In a soft voice, he said, “Brother Anan looks… very handsome today.”

At those words, Qi Beinan’s brows lifted slightly. He stopped walking and turned toward Xiao Yuanbao, who seemed a little embarrassed.

Qi Beinan’s lips curved, his chin tilted just slightly upward as he looked at him, and in Xiao Yuanbao’s bright eyes shone open admiration—something tender and unhidden.

No man could resist such a gaze. Qi Beinan’s heart stirred. Without warning, he reached out, lifted Xiao Yuanbao, and set him on the square table before him. The smaller youth was instantly higher than he.

Before Xiao Yuanbao could speak, Qi Beinan asked, “Do you like it?”

Sitting face to face like this, Xiao Yuanbao felt a strange flutter inside him, but when he met those dark, steady eyes, he still nodded softly.

“I want you to say it,” Qi Beinan murmured.

Xiao Yuanbao laughed a little and leaned forward, his voice close to Qi Beinan’s ear. “I like it.”

So near, he could smell the clean scent of fresh bathwater and the faint incense that had clung to the scholar’s robe overnight. He truly liked it—it felt like having a celestial gentleman step out of a story and into his arms.

Qi Beinan’s ear tingled under the warmth of his breath, turning faintly red.

He was not a man of icy restraint. Some doors, once opened, were not easily closed again.

When Xiao Yuanbao drew back, a blush still lingered on his face.

Qi Beinan’s gaze fell upon those pale-pink lips; his eyes darkened, and he leaned forward.

Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes widened slightly. His lips parted, his ears warm and damp, and only then did he realize what Qi Beinan was doing.

From deep within his chest came a trembling that spread outward—no pain, only a strange, ticklish heat that reached every part of him, something he had never felt before.

It tickled, but there was no way to soothe it.

After a long while, Qi Beinan finally released the ear that had flushed a deep red.

“Don’t tease me,” he said hoarsely. “I’m not someone who can endure being teased.”

Xiao Yuanbao blinked at him, feeling wronged. Who was teasing whom, exactly?

He had never so much as read a romantic story between men and ger, his thoughts still simple and unguarded.

He didn’t know how to respond, only thought he must have done something wrong. Instinctively, he covered his ear with one hand, as if hiding the evidence of a guilty secret, pretending nothing had happened—though his heart pounded so loudly it seemed everyone could hear it.

Qi Beinan gently took his hand away, looking at the reddened ear with quiet satisfaction. He even pinched it lightly, as though admiring his own work.

Xiao Yuanbao wished the earth would open beneath him. He wanted to run, but sitting on the table with a mountain of a man before him, there was nowhere to go.

At last he realized why Qi Beinan had lifted him onto the table in the first place.

“You—you should eat your breakfast and go to the palace before you’re late.”

Qi Beinan wrapped his arms around him again. “You’re the one who said you liked me. I only wanted to spend a little more time with you—why drive me away so soon?”

In his embrace, Xiao Yuanbao felt his shyness fade a little. Maybe it was because Qi Beinan had held him like this many times before—this closeness felt safe, familiar.

“I…” He faltered, unsure what to say. After a pause, he murmured, “It just feels… strange.”

“Then you don’t like it?”

Xiao Yuanbao didn’t answer. He didn’t dislike it, but he couldn’t bring himself to say he liked it either. His body’s reaction confused him and left him too shy to admit anything aloud.

“Go eat,” he said softly. “The food’s getting cold.”

His tone carried a faint plea.

Qi Beinan laughed, released him, and tapped his forehead. “All right, all right—whatever you say.”

Soon after, three sharp cracks of the ceremonial whip struck against the marble steps, and grand music swelled through the courtyard. The new jinshi knelt together in reverence.

The herald’s voice rang clear: “In the twenty-seventh year of Kaide, the First Rank is granted jinshi ji di! The Second Rank is granted jinshi chushen! The Third Rank is granted tong jinshi chushen!”

The announcing officials called each name in order, their voices echoing through the plaza.

“First of the First Rank, Lin Qingyu—appointed Compiler of the Hanlin Academy!”

The scholar stepped forward from the ranks, knelt, and received the decree.

“Second of the First Rank, Ren Heng—appointed Editor of the Hanlin Academy!”

Then came Qi Beinan’s turn.

“Third of the First Rank, Qi Beinan—also appointed Editor of the Hanlin Academy!”

Only the top three of the First Rank received titles immediately in court. The Second and Third Ranks would later report to the Ministry of Personnel for assignment.

With so many jinshi each year, dozens of appointments could not be read aloud—the emperor himself would never have the patience for it.

After conferring the honors, Emperor Kaide offered a few words of praise and admonition, and the ceremony neared its end.

The jinshi bowed once more and withdrew. Led by the zhuangyuan, the top three of the First Rank exited through the Meridian Gate along the imperial path, a mark of the emperor’s favor toward scholars.

Outside the palace, the escorting procession was already assembled. Armed guards stood ready, holding the reins of fine, well-trained horses for the new First-Rank scholars to mount and ride through the city in triumph.

The horses, each adorned with a red silk flower on their necks, were led out at once by three officials. Qi Beinan paused slightly, waiting until the zhuangyuan and bangyan had mounted before he swung himself onto his own horse.

The bangyan, Ren Heng, was an easygoing sort. He vaulted onto the saddle in one clean, agile motion—faster even than the zhuangyuan, Lin Qingyu, who seemed less skilled at riding and needed the official’s hand to steady him as he climbed up.

Qi Beinan took in all of this quietly.

He knew these two men already. They had taken the same examination in the past, though he had never grown close to either.

Back then, he had been young and full of ambition, thinking life in the Hanlin Academy too idle and dull, so he had requested a transfer to the provinces for experience. He’d only stayed six months before leaving, and so never built any deep bond with those colleagues.

Still, both men were interesting figures—each destined for a remarkable life—but that was a story for another time.

The procession moved out from the palace, through the gates, and into the city.

The capital, lively on ordinary days, was even more vibrant now with the new jinshi parade passing through.

Mounted on his fine horse, Qi Beinan lifted his gaze to the clear, boundless sky. Below him stretched the crowded streets, throngs of people gazing up in admiration from all directions. Pride rose in his chest, a feeling beyond words.

Even after living life over again, this sense of triumph in springtime glory could still make his heart surge.

“The emperor must be delighted this year! Such fine faces among the new scholars!”

“So much talent, and such looks—what’s rarest of all, the top three are all extraordinary in both appearance and learning!”

From afar, Xiao Yuanbao heard the drums and gongs drawing nearer from the main avenue leading from the palace.

He stood on the fourth floor of Anhua Pavilion, the tallest and grandest building in the area, with a perfect view of the parade route.

Below, the line of more than twenty riders slowly advanced. The moment Qi Beinan came into view, Xiao Yuanbao’s gaze was drawn helplessly toward him.

As the riders approached closer, chatter rippled through the building.

Everyone was marveling at this year’s spectacle—how splendid the parade was, how fortunate they were to witness it.

Since he was already there, Xiao Yuanbao thought he might as well take a proper look at the zhuangyuan and bangyan too.

Indeed, they were both handsome—each in his own way.

But honestly, even if all three men stood side by side without rank or shared history, he knew he would still prefer Qi Beinan.

“Which one do you like best?” one young lady whispered nearby.

“They’re all fine,” her companion replied. “The zhuangyuan is refined, the bangyan elegant, and the tanhua—tall and striking. If I had to choose, I’d favor the tanhua’s bearing. He looks more manly.”

Hearing this, Xiao Yuanbao couldn’t help but smile, the corners of his lips curving up with pride.

Good taste, he thought smugly.

Just as he was feeling pleased with himself, he noticed one of the girls shyly lift her round fan to her face—then boldly tossed a pink peony toward the passing scholars.

Startled but inspired, Xiao Yuanbao quickly grabbed the basket of flowers he had prepared.

When the procession reached the front of Anhua Pavilion, he leaned out carefully, aimed for Qi Beinan, and overturned the basket. A rain of petals fluttered down through the sunlight—beautiful as snowfall.

The watching crowd cheered.

Qi Beinan looked up just in time to see Xiao Yuanbao leaning slightly over the railing. Their eyes met. His lips curved in a subtle smile.

Flustered and delighted, Xiao Yuanbao pulled a single magnolia blossom from his sleeve and tossed it toward him.

From the pavilion, several sharp-eyed young nobles immediately recognized the flower. Their gazes turned toward Xiao Yuanbao, full of judgment and surprise—who would be so bold?

What they saw was a face that was not particularly refined—ordinary, even plain—but gentle, reserved.

“How improper,” one wealthy young man sneered. “Look at his simple clothes. Probably some minor household’s ger. He must be desperate to catch the eye of a jinshi, dreaming of sudden fortune.”

But before the words had fully faded, gasps rose from all around.

The tanhua, without hesitation, had raised his hand and caught the magnolia midair—and even smiled up at the one who’d thrown it.

The street erupted in excitement.

Even the zhuangyuan, Lin Qingyu, and Ren Heng beside him turned to glance.

Ren Heng arched an eyebrow with a teasing grin. “Tanhua, you’re quite the charming man. Catching flowers from admirers—better be ready to take responsibility when they come knocking.”

Qi Beinan tucked the magnolia openly into his sleeve, still smiling. “I wouldn’t dare claim your kind of charm, bangyan. But if a whole room of people saw, then I suppose I must take responsibility for them all.”

The two laughed, saluting him in jest and in congratulations.

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