Chapter Thirty-Eight: In Peril

For scholars, obtaining academic honors is a lifelong pursuit. Such honors not only bring glory but can also change one’s fate. Especially with the provincial examination—once a candidate passes, he may be appointed to an official position. Thus, with the magistrate proposing such advantageous terms, no scholar would refuse.

But Feng Yuan was different. Though he was a scholar, he was in truth a transmigrator. He cared little for titles or wealth, for he lacked neither. Official honors held little use for him; on the contrary, becoming an official would only bind him. Feng Yuan had always cherished a free and unrestrained life, unwilling to be fettered by obligations.

So, no matter how generous the magistrate’s offer, Feng Yuan could not possibly agree. Moreover, both the magistrate and Master Zhang seemed so determined to have him write a novel—there must be some hidden secret behind this eagerness, whether for good or ill. With such doubts, Feng Yuan was all the less likely to acquiesce.

“Sir Magistrate, this humble student must consider—”

“There, there, I told you, don’t be so quick to refuse. I’ll give you two or three days to think it over. When I return, I believe your answer will be quite different.”

The magistrate halted Feng Yuan’s attempt to decline, smiling slightly as he patted Feng Yuan’s shoulder before turning to leave the house.

“Your student respectfully sees you off, Sir Magistrate!” Feng Yuan hurriedly bowed in parting.

When the magistrate was gone, Instructor He and Fat Zhang quickly entered.

“Feng Yuan, what business did the magistrate have with you?” Instructor He inquired.

“It was nothing, sir. The magistrate enjoyed my novel very much and, finding it unsatisfying, came to speak with me about it,” Feng Yuan replied with a smile, concealing the truth. Since the magistrate had not revealed his true purpose to Instructor He, Feng Yuan thought it best to keep silent, lest he offend the magistrate.

“Ah, I see. Then you must seize this opportunity. If the magistrate holds you in such regard, it will greatly benefit your future attempts at the examinations,” Instructor He reminded him.

“Thank you for your guidance, sir,” Feng Yuan replied, nodding.

After a brief exchange, Instructor He departed, leaving only Feng Yuan and his two companions in the courtyard.

Fat Zhang, face aglow with excitement, turned to Feng Yuan. “Feng Yuan, this is wonderful! Even the magistrate has been captivated by your novel. Your prospects are limitless now! The provincial exam is near—if you can get on good terms with the magistrate, perhaps he’ll tip you off about the test questions. Then success will be all but assured.”

Feng Yuan only managed a bitter smile and said to Fat Zhang and Hu Xiao, “I feel a headache coming on. I need to rest inside. Call me when lunch is ready.”

With that, Feng Yuan returned inside.

Fat Zhang watched Feng Yuan’s retreating figure with puzzlement, turning to Hu Xiao. “Why does it seem as though Feng Yuan isn’t happy at all?”

“I have no idea. I’ll go cook,” Hu Xiao replied, shaking her head before heading to the kitchen.

“How odd. With such good fortune, he ought to be pleased,” Fat Zhang muttered, scratching his head as he stared after Feng Yuan, utterly at a loss.

Back in his study, Feng Yuan sat down, chin propped on one hand, frowning as he mulled over the day’s events. Why had both the magistrate and Master Zhang come to him for a novel? What secret lay hidden here?

“Could it be for the golden light in the novel?” he wondered.

It was quite possible. That golden radiance in his stories could be absorbed, strengthening the body and even used in combat against evil spirits.

The magistrate, once a martial scholar, though now in a civil post, remained strong and muscular—a testament to daily training. He likely wished to use the golden light from the novel for his own cultivation.

If so, Master Zhang must have the same goal. Master Zhang was even burlier than the magistrate. Though a merchant, who could say he didn’t secretly practice martial arts?

If the two men truly wanted the golden light, then their generous offers made sense—for such light was rare. Though Feng Yuan had seen in that nameless manual that all things in the world could emit golden radiance, so far only his novels revealed it. He had never seen it elsewhere.

Golden light was precious, and Feng Yuan needed it for his own cultivation. He would never hand it over, so no matter what, he would never agree to their requests.

But then he recalled the magistrate’s words before leaving—so confident that Feng Yuan would change his answer in two or three days. Looking back, Feng Yuan felt a chill. The magistrate’s tone had seemed almost threatening. Within the next few days, they might very well resort to some underhanded means to force his compliance.

It was entirely possible. The magistrate had a reputation as a beloved official, but who truly knew what he did in private?

Especially when he’d so openly offered to help Feng Yuan become top scholar—the head of the provincial graduates. So many scholars took the exam, yet the magistrate was so certain Feng Yuan would succeed. It had to be a promise of favoritism, of manipulating the results.

An official who would do such things, Feng Yuan did not consider a good man. If he did scheme against him, Feng Yuan would not be surprised.

And Master Zhang, too, hardly seemed trustworthy. He might well plot against Feng Yuan as well.

The more he thought about it, the more perilous his situation seemed. What should he do?

After much contemplation, Feng Yuan muttered to himself, “Perhaps I should agree to their terms, write for them, but secretly absorb the golden light myself. After all, there’s no guarantee every novel I write will contain golden light. If it doesn’t, they can hardly blame me.”

“No, that won’t do. If they pay a great price and get nothing in return, they might be enraged and simply kill me. That’s far too risky!”

It seemed the only course was to wait and see. If they truly moved against him, he would simply slip away. He had more than enough money and no reason to remain here. It would be a good chance to visit the capital and help Lan Qirou search for Young Master Huang.

...

After lunch and a short rest, Feng Yuan returned to his writing. He had barely begun when Hu Xiao entered, announcing visitors—Zhao Qingxue and a scholar named Ding Changqing had come to see him.

“Show them to the pavilion and serve them tea. I’ll be there shortly,” Feng Yuan told Hu Xiao, laying down his brush and changing his clothes before stepping outside.

As he exited, he saw Zhao Qingxue and Scholar Ding waiting in the pavilion. He recognized Zhao Qingxue, but the scholar was a stranger. He wondered what business had brought them here.