Chapter 197: Chapter 183: The Unlucky History of the Third Son
Seeing Song Yuanbao standing there foolishly, Granny Song came over and pulled him, "What, went to the Capital once and can’t even recognize your mother and grandmother?"
It wasn’t until Granny Song pulled up a chair for him to sit that Song Yuanbao came to his senses, blinking at Wen Wan, feeling like he was in a dream, "Mother?"
He tentatively asked, realizing his tone was a bit shaky, fearing the voice he heard earlier was just an illusion.
Wen Wan saw that it was difficult for him to accept for now, smiled, and didn’t say anything to scare him again.
Granny Song said, "Your mother started speaking the day Jinbao was born. Afraid of disturbing your father’s exam, we didn’t write to the Capital. By the way, Yuanbao, why do I only see you? Where’s your father?"
It was a lot to take in—brother Jinbao, mother’s sudden ability to talk—Song Yuanbao needed time to digest, so he didn’t immediately answer Granny Song’s question.
After a while, he said softly, "Father didn’t come. He passed the exam as the third-place scholar and became an official. He’s already working at the Hanlin Academy and couldn’t take a long leave, so he sent me to bring mother and grandfather and grandmother to the Capital."
"What? Third-place scholar?"
Now if you mention strange terms like imperial exam, palace exam, first-class scholar, or second-class scholar, Granny Song would be confused and would have to ask what on earth they are. But if you say third-place scholar, she immediately understands.
Champion, runner-up, third-place scholar.
The Three Top Scholars—these prestigious titles, even if unseen, have been heard in operas.
But Granny Song thought her own son becoming a third-place scholar sounded more fictional than fiction itself, almost like a lie.
"Yuanbao, are you joking?"
"How could I joke about something this big?" Song Yuanbao said, recalling the bustling crowd when his father rode through the street on horseback on that day, and mentioning how his father, being very handsome, was tossed many embroidered balls by girls from the upstairs, but he cleverly dodged all of them and didn’t get hit by a single one.
Wen Wan leaned against the bedhead, holding Jinbao in her arms, unconsciously imagining her husband in a red robe. The last time she saw him dressed all in red was three years ago at their wedding, and she can still recall the details of him using the balance beam to lift her veil.
At that time, she only had two words in her mind when she saw him: Good-looking.
Although this time she couldn’t witness it herself as she stayed in Ningzhou to have the baby, Wen Wan could easily imagine that her husband must look even better than the year they married.
However, more than the good news of her husband being the third-place scholar, Wen Wan wanted to know what he went through before the exam.
"Yuanbao, tell me quickly, what happened to your father while I wasn’t there these past few months?"
Wen Wan always felt that what she saw moments before Jinbao was born might be true.
Song Yuanbao said nothing major happened, just that on the way to Beijing his father cut his hand while slicing fruits, and at the inn, he slipped while bathing and twisted his foot.
Other than that, everything went smoothly.
Wen Wan was silent, not because she believed Yuanbao, but because she realized he was lying.
Since he was hiding the truth, it indicated something bad did happen. Given Granny Song was present, if she pursued the matter, it wouldn’t help but rather make Granny Song worry.
"Did your father’s hand heal?" Wen Wan looked at Song Yuanbao and asked again.
Song Yuanbao said it healed before they reached the Capital; otherwise, he couldn’t have taken the exam successfully and become the third-place scholar right away.
Mrs. Zhou finished washing diapers and peeked in, asking how to entertain those guards outside.
Only then did Granny Song remember there were guests, and she hurriedly opened the curtain to invite them in for tea.
Song Yuanbao lifted himself off the chair and sat down beside Wen Wan’s bed, his gaze settling on the little baby in her arms.
As the weather grew hotter, Wen Wan feared the baby’s tender skin couldn’t handle the heat, so when daytime temperatures rose, she didn’t swaddle him, changing his cotton coat to a bright red bellyband embroidered with a tiger head.
At this moment, the little one’s arms lay exposed, plump like segments of lotus root, with a distinct seam, appearing soft and tender.
Song Yuanbao didn’t dare touch him for fear of hurting him, but after watching for a while, he couldn’t resist and gently grasped his little hand.
The skin felt slippery and tender, making one reluctant to exert any force, afraid of causing pain.
Seeing the little fellow grin at him, Song Yuanbao’s heart melted completely, and he asked Wen Wan, "Mother, is my brother’s name Jinbao?"
Wen Wan nodded, "Your grandmother gave him this nickname. We’ll wait for your father to give him his formal name once we see him."
"Why change the formal name?" Song Yuanbao pouted, feeling unfairly treated. "I could be called Yuanbao, isn’t Jinbao just fine for my brother? People outside would know we’re brothers just by hearing our names."
Wen Wan sensed the protest from her eleven-year-old and smiled gently, "Then tell me, does Yuanbao sound nice to you?"
"It sounds nice, and Jinbao sounds nice too."
"Once we’re in Beijing, if your father agrees it sounds nice, then we’ll continue calling the little one Jinbao, okay?"
"What if father doesn’t like it?" Song Yuanbao was troubled, his father now being a respected editor at the Hanlin Academy couldn’t possibly give his youngest son a formal name like ’Jinbao’, right? It would be a laughingstock among colleagues.
They say rural children’s names imply what’s lacking, and Jinbao means attracting wealth for my brother?
—You’ve already joined the Hanlin Academy, it’s only a matter of time before you rise in status and wealth. Do you really need your son to attract wealth for you?
Just thinking about it, Song Yuanbao felt his father would definitely not agree to his brother being called Jinbao.
Wen Wan observed him and gently said, "Your father passed the scholar exam, so you’ll have the opportunity to study at the Imperial College. If you like, let your father give you a formal name as well when naming Jinbao."
Song Yuanbao’s mouth turned up in a smile, and though he said nothing, Wen Wan could tell he very much wanted a bright formal name like his brother.
——
Song Yuanbao returned home, bringing word of Song Wei’s success as the third-place scholar and becoming an official in the Capital, shocking people in the surrounding villages.
Some didn’t believe it and came specifically to check.
Song Yuanbao didn’t mind, he greeted everyone with a smile and explained patiently.
The onlookers felt bewildered as they listened.
——This year’s third-place scholar, from birth, seemed cursed with bad luck, nothing went smoothly, whoever crossed paths with him had misfortune.
Pecked by geese, chased by dogs.
Mistakenly beaten by thugs, accidentally injured by hooligans.
Whenever he went out, there was no need for an almanac. Checking it was pointless, as he would return with either a head bumped by a flower pot or covered in bruises from a beating.
Some people lived a lifetime, encountering countless misfortunes, seeing countless unlucky people.
But only Song Wei completely redefined their understanding of "unlucky."
With Song Wei, you could never pin down his worst misfortune because, next time, he might be even unluckier.
Yet now, the young man cursed with bad luck and often chastised had, under everyone’s watchful eyes, stumbled his way through adversity to reach the pinnacle of the imperial examination.
Thirty years of hardship unknown, one step to fame that everyone knows.
It’s a story more dramatic than any tale in books.