Chapter 155: When? By Whom?

The Great Ming Dynasty had been established for only fifty years, with three emperors having ruled so far. The Yongle era was still considered part of the early Ming period. Thus, although there were clear systems in place for the Ministry of Personnel to select officials, there were no strict requirements regarding experience or qualifications. Those with outstanding achievements could even be promoted four or five times in a year, rising from the seventh rank directly to the fourth, with some commoners even advancing to become provincial governors. For example, Du Zhen, though once a Jinshi, had been demoted for over a decade. When he was reinstated, he was at the seventh rank, but within just over a year, he rose to the second rank—a promotion utterly unimaginable during the middle and late Ming periods.

The Ministry of Personnel consisted of four departments. The Department of Civil Appointments was responsible for selecting officials, while the Department of Performance Evaluation was in charge of assessing them. Naturally, these two departments held the greatest authority. Among scholars, the selection of Jinshi was always the most important, as all officials in the six ministries in the capital, as well as those in lower positions such as prefects, judges, and county heads, were chosen from among Jinshi. Although there was a distinction between officials in the capital and those in the provinces, reputation and favoritism also played crucial roles.

Therefore, when the emperor sent someone to convey his orders, Yang Rong came in person to greet him, and Duke Yingguo Zhang Fu also gave him some hints. Tang Qing, an official in the Department of Civil Appointments who was only at the fifth rank, could only smile bitterly. Just a single Jinshi required so many people to push him forward—noble families truly were different from ordinary scholars. But then again, even if he couldn’t stay as a Hanlin scholar, wouldn’t it be safer to work as an official in one of the six ministries? Why go to a remote place, and why specifically Shandong?

Zhang Yue was unaware of all the people working behind the scenes to help him. He never expected that a single well-written essay would suddenly put him in the spotlight. For half a month, many scholars came to visit him. Some did so out of admiration for Duke Yingguo’s influence, but most were simply out of curiosity, while others were defiant.

In short, realizing that he couldn’t stop this trend, he could only decline all requests under the pretext that his elder brother Zhang Chao’s wedding was approaching and he had no time.

Yet, though he could avoid outsiders, he couldn’t escape his family. It was one thing when Zhang Fu and Lady Wang joked with him; but his grandmother scolded him endlessly about not showing off too much, until his ears were calloused. His mother, Lady Sun, was extremely proud of his success and struggled greatly to hide her joy. As for his father, Zhang Zhuo, he would often look at him with a strange expression.

The most unbearable were his brothers’ teasing. Even when Zhang Qing came to visit, she would tease him as well.

As the wedding preparations for Zhang Chao neared, Zhang Yue, free from the distractions of others, waited anxiously for the results of his official examination. Yet he quickly noticed that his elder brother Zhang Chao was acting strangely. He knew well that although Zhang Chao hadn’t seen the daughter of the Marquis of Xiangcheng in person, the Dong family had gone with Zhang Qing and returned full of praise for her. Why was Zhang Chao acting like this now? Could he still be thinking about the sisters from the Jin family?

Early that morning, he went to his grandmother’s room to pay his respects, then went to the training ground to practice swordsmanship with Peng Shisan, breaking into sweat. After returning to his room, he had breakfast and changed clothes, planning to visit the Du family again that day. Suddenly, a maid’s voice was heard outside.

“Young master, the eldest young master has arrived!”

Zhang Yue was slightly startled. Seeing Zhang Chao enter with a gloomy expression as if someone owed him eight hundred taels of silver, he found it even more strange. He ordered Qiu Hen to bring tea and asked Zhang Chao to sit on the kang, but Zhang Chao, ignoring all notions of hierarchy, simply sat down on a chair below him.

“Third brother, I’m at my wits’ end, so I have no choice but to come to you today!” Zhang Chao, not caring how shocking his words might sound, gritted his teeth and said, “Do you know any way to delay my marriage? Or perhaps even make the Marquis of Xiangcheng cancel it…”

Before he could finish speaking, Zhang Yue was still in shock when a cry came from the side. Turning around, he saw Qiu Hen holding a teacup on a carved agate tray from Yunnan. Apparently, she had trembled upon hearing his words; although the cup barely fell to the ground, the scalding tea spilled onto the floor and onto her hands, as well as her skirt and blouse.

Seeing Qiu Hen in such a sorry state, Zhang Yue didn’t have time to think further. He quickly stood up, took the tray and placed it on a side table, then took a handkerchief from her waist to wipe her hands. After that, he handed her over to Amber, who had just recovered from her shock, instructing her to get some ointment to apply to Qiu Hen’s wounds. He also ordered that what had been said not be disclosed outside, before sitting back down.

“No wonder my eldest sister once said you were different from the rest of us brothers. Today I realize she was completely right.” Zhang Chao stared at Zhang Yue for a while before sighing dejectedly.

“Third brother, I don’t know what you’ve always thought of me, but family matters are best left between family members. I simply can’t do what you do. Most of the maids in my room are concubines. Usually I find them endearing, but once they leave, I don’t pay much attention to them. So, even though I once liked Sister Su very much, was reluctant to marry Sister Heng, and was furious when the marriage to the Jin family was canceled, over time I gradually forgot about it. The Xiangcheng Earl’s family is of high status; his daughter must be excellent, and I’m not good enough for her.”

Fed up by Zhang Chao’s circular talk, Zhang Yue was utterly confused, yet a growing sense of unease settled in his heart. He didn’t bother to go around in circles any longer and asked directly, “Elder brother, I guess you’re not dissatisfied with marrying the daughter of the Xiangcheng Earl; rather, you have someone else in mind and that’s why you don’t want to get married?”

Seeing Zhang Chao’s suddenly stiff expression, Zhang Yue gasped—could it be that he had accidentally predicted the truth? After reflecting on Zhang Chao’s words, he immediately ruled out those maids and instinctively dismissed the possibility of falling in love at first sight in Jinxiangwei. But if that wasn’t the case, where could Zhang Chao have met a woman he liked? Suddenly, an idea struck him, and he remembered something.

“Could it be that after visiting the sister of that fallen general last time, then…”

“I originally just wanted to repay their kindness, but as soon as I saw her… well, it was a completely different feeling.” Zhang Chao was somewhat speechless for a moment before gritting his teeth and saying, “Third brother, I brought the worst news possible, but she was incredibly strong and recovered soon after. She’s different from the women I’ve met—bold yet not petty… The daughter of the Xiangcheng Earl might be gentle and kind, but I already have someone else in mind. Even if this marriage goes through, it doesn’t mean she’d be right for me.”

Zhang Yue had never felt such a headache before. It seemed his elder brother was determined to marry that woman. But what good was his determination as a younger sibling? Marriage was arranged by parents and matchmakers. Not only were Zhang Chao’s parents involved, but his grandmother above them wasn’t someone to be trifled with.

“It’s too late to talk about whether we’re compatible now.”

After forcing out those words, he had no choice but to speak the truth plainly: “It’s an unequal match—this is an unshakable truth for families like ours. If you had mentioned this before the engagement, there might have been a sliver of hope, but not now. Back then, with the Jin family incident, there were complications on both sides, and our family didn’t want to go to court and ruin relations. But now, the marriage contract has already been signed—with the Marquis of Xiangcheng. If you were rejected then, just imagine what would happen to the daughter of the Marquis of Xiangcheng if she were rejected now.”

He stood up and faced Zhang Chao, looking down at him as he spoke word by word: “This isn’t just your problem—it’s a problem for both families. The Marquis of Xiangcheng and my uncle are colleagues in the court, and they get along very well. If this really escalates and causes estrangement between the two families, can you really live with that? And if it sparks even bigger trouble, not to mention fighting on the battlefield in the future, your entire future will be ruined. Even if you succeed this time and marry the girl you like, do you think she’ll have a comfortable life?”

Zhang Chao was already gloomy, and now he seemed even more dazed. After a long silence, he finally managed to say, “She doesn’t know about our family’s background. She thinks I’m just an ordinary wealthy boy…”

“You yourself haven’t told her about your family’s background, which shows you know this won’t work.” Although Zhang Yue also thought it was cruel to break up a couple, he knew that giving bad advice now would be even more cruel for them in the future. So he resolved to be blunt: “Elder brother, in novels, poor scholars can marry wealthy girls after passing the imperial exams, but noble families and poor girls are different. The elite world is like an endless ocean—it’s never a place suitable for poor girls.”

Zhang Chao was utterly disheartened by Zhang Yue’s words. Though he was reckless, he wasn’t completely thoughtless. Many things weren’t that he didn’t want to think about, but rather that he refused to consider them. Now, with Zhang Yue laying everything out clearly, he felt as if all the paths he had imagined were blocked. After much effort, he finally managed to say one last thing: “Younger brother, what do you think? If I told her to wait a few more years before taking her as my second wife…”

“Elder brother, with all due respect, if you do that, can you face your deceased comrade? If you still refuse to give up, I can accompany you to see that girl again.”

At this moment, Zhang Yue could only put forward such a suggestion. He had never met Zhang Chao’s beloved, but there were certainly many women who would rather be a concubine to a hero than a wife to an ordinary man—so why not some who would rather be a wife in poverty than a concubine in wealth?

Yet when he accompanied Zhang Chao back to Sishui Street and found the house using the low doorway as a guide, what he encountered was an empty building. The interior was neatly tidy, with tables, chairs, and benches seemingly polished carefully, but all valuables had been taken away, not even a note left behind.

Zhang Yue leaned on the doorframe, glancing at Zhang Chao, who sat motionless on the old bed, and couldn’t help but sigh. Zhang Chao would never blab about this affair, and since it was only mentioned to him today for the first time, others probably didn’t know either. In that case, it was likely pointless to try to find out why the girl living there had suddenly moved away.

What is fate? What is destiny?