I Cultivate in a Government Office

The exam lasted four hours. The village teachers graded the papers overnight, and by the next morning, the results were posted on the most prominent outer wall of the ancestral hall.

Yang Wenqing arrived early with his younger brother and sister, his gaze sweeping over the sixth-place position, where he saw the name Yang Wenqi.

However, his gaze only lingered on the name Yang Wenqi for a moment before he calmly looked away. He just needed to take note of it for now; it wasn’t the time for excessive attention or intervention.

Afterward, in the main chamber of the ancestral hall, the various leaders of the stronghold gathered to witness a ceremony. Third Elder Yang Dehou personally presided, handling the official procedures for the ten children who had earned a recommendation. He had an old man, one with a basic understanding of guiding techniques, instruct the children to infuse a trace of their own aura into the corresponding blank space on the documents.

The entire process was solemn and orderly. Yang Wenqing stood quietly to the side, witnessing the whole affair. He offered no extra praise to those who were selected, nor did he show any regret for those who were not.

His attitude, one of complete respect for the clan’s internal procedures, earned the silent nods of approval from many of the clan elders present. Afterward, many clan members came up to exchange pleasantries and bid him farewell, their words filled with sincere gratitude and praise for his discretion.

Yang Wenqing responded politely to each of them, attributing the success to the elders’ management and the children’s own efforts.

When he returned home that evening, his mother, Wang Qin, had prepared a sumptuous meal. The cured meat was cut into thick slices, the scrambled eggs were glossy with oil, and she had even stewed a chicken—a rare treat. The aroma filled the entire small courtyard.

The meal was both a celebration of the clan exam’s successful conclusion and a farewell for Yang Wenqing, who was leaving the next day.

At the dinner table, the atmosphere was warmer than usual. His mother kept putting food on his plate, and his father, as usual, didn’t say much in front of the children. His younger brother, Yang Wenjian, and younger sister, Yang Wenning, knowing their older brother was leaving tomorrow, were less playful than usual.

After dinner, Yang Wenqing sat with his parents in the main room for a long time. His mother fussed over him, repeating reminders she had already given countless times, while his father just puffed on his dry pipe, occasionally chiming in with, "Just be careful."

Yang Wenqing responded patiently.

...

At the crack of dawn the next day, Yang Wenqing rose and left his room. His mother was already up, double-checking the travel pack she had prepared the night before. Inside was a small bag of this year’s newly harvested high-quality rice, along with several large pieces of cured meat and sausage wrapped in oil paper.

Yang Wenqing didn’t refuse. He knew this was his mother’s way of showing her love.

His father silently tied the pack onto a truck from the stronghold that was heading to town to deliver mountain goods. Just as Yang Wenqing was about to get on, Third Grandpa Yang Dehou hurried over, leaning unsteadily on his cane.

"Wenqing, leaving so soon?" The old man took his hand and squeezed it firmly. "Don’t you worry about things in the stronghold. We old folks will keep an eye on everything. You take care of yourself out there, and come back to visit when you have time!"

"Third Grandpa, please take care of your health. If anything happens in the stronghold, have Father send word to me anytime," Yang Wenqing said solemnly.

"I know." Third Grandpa was reluctant to see him go. As someone with one foot in the grave, he knew that every farewell could be the last. "You have to take care."

He repeated what he had just said.

Yang Wenqing responded with a smile. After exchanging pleasantries for a while longer, he finally boarded the truck.

As the truck slowly drove out of the stronghold’s gate, Yang Wenqing looked back. His mother had followed them to the main gate and was waving to him from a distance. The figures of his father and Third Grandpa gradually blurred in the morning mist.

PS: This marks the end of the story’s initial arc. I’m too lazy to write a separate author’s note, so I’ll just say it here. First, thank you all for your support! The average Chapter subscription count is about to break three thousand. Thank you all again, thank you!