Chapter 16: Which Fool Prepared This

Soon, the group arrived at the entrance of the private school. Standing outside were all the parents who had come to see their children off; after all, today was an important day for the kids. At this moment, many eyes turned toward Dongmen Meng—naturally, all male—each filled with astonishment. When had there ever been such a beautiful and lively maiden in Taixi County? They had never seen her before.

Ye Ming was in an excellent mood, as he always was whenever he went out with his wife. She was a walking aura of awe-inspiring presence, though she also attracted envy and trouble. Back when he courted her, he managed to offend nearly everyone, but in the end, he won her heart—albeit at some cost. So, the saying that beauty brings trouble wasn’t without reason.

“Go on inside,” Dongmen Meng said softly with a smile. Her gentle laughter seemed to dim the brilliance of everyone around; the other women, no matter how extravagantly dressed, paled in comparison. Many men could not take their eyes off her—she was truly a rare beauty.

Ye Kun sighed inwardly. His mother was beautiful beyond reason, and he often wondered how his father, with such ordinary looks, had managed to win such a stunning wife. Ye Ming wanted to tell his silly son that a man need not be handsome, but must be resolute. Ruthlessness brings charisma—what outstanding woman would love a soft-hearted man?

As the two children entered the school, Ye Ming and Dongmen Meng stood quietly to the side, not mingling with anyone, appearing both low-key and aloof. Quite a few nobles approached to make conversation, but all left with expressions of regret.

Inside, the children were bubbling with excitement, eager to show their talents. Ye Kun turned to his younger brother, “Aren’t you going to tell me your secret?”

“Just wait, Brother. You’ll see for yourself soon. Today, I’m going to impress you!” Ye Qin lifted his little chin, a hint of pride in his voice. Today was his moment to shine.

Seeing how diligent Ye Qin had been lately, Ye Kun resolved to help his brother fulfill his wish, even if it meant lending a hand. Securing first place would be no problem at all. At the very least, he would rank just below his brother, so that their parents would only praise Ye Qin. Today’s task was tough—he needed to come up with a poem so simplistic that he’d end up at the bottom of the list. Ye Kun took a deep breath; he’d have to settle for the simplest verse possible. As for the archery, if he so much as hit the bull’s-eye, he’d spell his own name backwards.

In a corner of the courtyard, Feng Dian and Yuan Zhen were whispering to each other.

“Got any good ideas yet?” Feng Dian asked.

It seemed that, even on the day of the competition, the two still hadn’t figured out a plan.

“No, let’s just see what happens. Maybe we can do something during the archery round.” Yuan Zhen picked his nose, flicking a tiny black object in an arc into the crowd.

Both Yuan Zhen and Feng Dian stiffened, pretending nothing had happened as they blended into the group of children.

Inside the house, Old Wei emerged slowly, leaning on his cane. “Children, today is the Festival of First Blessings, an important day for you all. Do your best.”

“Yes, Teacher,” all the children replied, bowing slightly, eager for the event to begin.

“Go and get ready, then.”

The competition would not take place inside the city, but on a grassy field outside the walls—a delightful spot, perfectly suited to the pleasant weather. A gentle breeze blew, refreshing both body and mind.

Not far from the city, a temporary arena had already been set up; the nobles spared no expense, their wealth evident. With enough gold coins, anything could be arranged flawlessly.

As the children lined up and marched out, many others followed, eager to witness the children’s performances—or, more likely, hoping to befriend some nobles, however slim their chances.

The venue was circular, and though temporary, it was impressive, especially the main seat, crafted from fine materials. Even the cups had been brought in from Ankang Prefecture, a clear gesture of goodwill from the nobility.

Led by the attendants, the children began choosing their bows. These were custom-made, suited to children, not the large bows used by adults.

“Brother, how about this one?” Ye Qin asked, holding a small bow. His little hand pulled the bowstring, and to everyone’s surprise, he managed to draw it.

Ye Kun was curious. He picked up a bow and tried it himself. The string, also custom-made, was remarkably flexible. These wealthy families had spared no expense, providing high-grade green strings typically reserved for weapon-making—not rare, but certainly costly.

“You look great with that bow,” Ye Kun said, a bit troubled. Should he throw the match? But he couldn’t possibly embarrass himself that much.

“I’ll take this one,” Ye Qin said, lifting his bow with satisfaction.

Ye Kun knew his brother had been practicing with a larger bow at home; truly their father’s son, inheriting his strength. But what had Ye Kun inherited? Was it just his bald head?

Nearby, Feng Dian muttered, “Yuan Zhen, think of a way to tamper with their bows.”

“How? Steal them? Didn’t you notice all the spares over there? Who on earth brought so many backups? Absolute fool! What, did they use a chamber pot for a brain? Ruined my plan...” Yuan Zhen grumbled.

Feng Dian looked around. There really was nothing they could do; sabotage was impossible.

By now, the parents had all entered the arena, each table marked with a child’s name for easy seating. Ye Ming and Dongmen Meng sat down; on their right was Yuan Zhen’s father, Yuan Xinchou.

“Brother Ye, it’s been a long time,” Yuan Xinchou greeted warmly.

Ye Ming clasped his hands and smiled. “Brother Yuan, indeed it has. You look well—good fortune must be upon you today.”

“Haha, thanks to your blessing! My son will amaze everyone today,” Yuan Xinchou said with pride, certain his son would bring glory to the family.

“I heard the nobles all contributed to this event. Fine examples for us all,” Ye Ming said with admiration, recalling the time someone came to his door to collect donations—or rather, to raise funds. As the patriarch of the Ye family, he had to do his part, so he asked his wife for a hundred gold coins, donated one, and kept the rest—something all men would understand. He still remembered the look in the fundraiser’s eyes when he left; it was truly a sight to behold.

“It’s all for the children. Take the bows, for instance—I was worried about accidents, so I prepared plenty of spares, all out of my own pocket,” Yuan Xinchou said breezily, though his expression all but begged for praise, completely unaware that his own son had just called him a fool.