Such a configuration makes it hard for Chang Yan not to sense danger.
He turned his head, and Jiang San was already banging on the door.
On one side is the upcoming pastry collaboration, and on the other is the elusive older brother who is clearly being followed.
Almost without hesitation, Changyan stuffed the pastries into Aunt Zhang's hands, then pulled Jiang Sheng to hide in a corner, and gestured to Jiang San and Jiang Si to stay away.
When the head chef, who was supporting his back, came to open the door, he only saw Aunt Zhang alone.
He was both surprised and delighted. "It's you...you came alone?"
"I think so," Aunt Zhang replied, somewhat bewildered.
There were a lot of people when I arrived, but in the blink of an eye I was all alone.
With the pastries in her hands and the door already open, she had no choice but to bite the bullet and go inside. "I'm here to visit Master Kong and discuss our collaboration..."
The gate opened and closed, and silence returned.
Jiang Sheng was finally able to speak, "Fifth Brother, what happened?"
Changyan pursed her lips and shook her head. She originally wanted Jiang Sheng to go home first, but thinking of her sister's stubborn nature, she swallowed her words.
That's enough.
We agreed to stand together through thick and thin, and even if there is danger, we will face it together.
“It’s my brother.” He said softly, “Auntie is safe with Master. Let’s go and check on her.”
Jiang San and Jiang Si didn't understand at first, but when they saw the two men in black and then Xu Mo and the other two who were in a hurry ahead, they were instantly excited.
After doing so many mundane tasks like delivery and payment collection for so long, it's finally their turn to shine.
at the same time.
Xu Mo was holding the Xuan paper he had been searching for, reading the brilliant articles on it while searching for the residence of the author.
Such talent, such a student, spent more than ten years studying diligently, only to have it all go to Zhu Zhi's benefit. It's truly regrettable.
Fortunately, with the persistent help of the Qi brothers, they were able to find the student who helped Zhu Zhi obtain the title of Juren among thousands of ghostwriters.
"This should be it."
The group walked through more than ten alleys and stopped in front of the most dilapidated courtyard, all of them somewhat puzzled.
According to the wealthy student who spoke at the beginning, the ghostwriters received a considerable amount of money after writing for others. They weren't extremely rich, but they were able to eat well, dress warmly, and live comfortably, so they shouldn't be in such dire straits.
Qi Huai hesitated before stepping forward and knocking on the door.
Before long, a student emerged, about twenty years old, dressed in faded clothes, with a cold and gloomy expression.
He wasn't surprised to see Xu Mo and the others, but simply asked coldly, "Who are you looking for?"
"Is it An Jun?" Qi Huai asked.
The student's expression grew increasingly gloomy, and after a long while, he replied, "Don't look for me anymore. I'm not going to be a ghostwriter anymore."
With that, he slammed the wooden door shut.
Qi Huai, his face covered in dust, touched his nose and remained silent, embarrassed.
Xu Mo's eyes lit up, and he leaned forward and said, "Student An, I'm not here to ask you for a writing service. I want to talk to you about something else."
They remained unmoved.
Xu Mo and Qi Huai exchanged a glance, and could only resort to their trump card, "I heard that you wrote for the Zhu family's son, helping him become a scholar..."
Before he could finish speaking, the wooden door was reopened, and An Jun glared at him resentfully.
"What exactly do you want? I'm no longer a ghostwriter, and I have no money for you to plunder. What more do you want? Are you trying to force me to leave Fengjing?" He almost roared. "Fine, I'll leave. I won't take the imperial examination anymore. I'll never come to Fengjing again."
After saying that, he began to gather his last remaining tattered clothes.
Qi Huai was moved, and his younger brother Qi Yue couldn't help but step forward to stop him.
Xu Mo raised his hand to stop them, and quietly watched An Jun vent his emotions.
Several faded and tattered clothes were repeatedly rubbed and pulled, but they still couldn't fit into the navy blue bundle.
An Jun plopped down on the edge of the bed and let out a long, helpless sigh.
Which student who comes to Fengjing doesn't aspire to stand out and reach new heights?
But once they arrived in this bustling city, they realized that Fengjing was more like a beast that devoured people, ruthlessly swallowing up the impoverished people who had come from all over.
Perhaps some people really will rise to prominence and return home in glory.
But no one sees that among millions of people, only these two or three bright stars appear, while the rest are like background figures, dimmed in the unknown night sky.
“I just wanted to take the imperial examinations in peace and quiet. Why did you force me? At first, you forced me to be a ghostwriter. I accepted it for money and to survive.” An Jun choked up. “I also admit that I had ulterior motives. The articles I submitted were not good enough. I wanted to use my real abilities in my own examinations.”
“But they…they saw through my thoughts and stole my real writings, and even forced me to write perfunctory ones. Because of this, I have failed the imperial examinations twice. I am twenty-three years old, and I still have elderly parents at home. I don’t have much time left to waste in Fengjing.”
"If the imperial examination is not a path for someone of my lowly status, then I will not take it. I will go home, farm, and honestly become a scholar. I will accept that for the rest of my life!"
An Jun murmured to himself, finally calmly pulling out his clothes, folding and tidying them, and then putting them into a small dark blue bundle.
It's clear that he's completely given up now.
Xu Mo and Qi Huai exchanged a glance, both feeling somewhat heavy-hearted.
It's understandable that ghostwriters might conceal their true abilities, but being forced by powerful families to reveal their real skills and then having to write perfunctorily during their own exams is going too far.
"Actually, you don't have to be so obedient," Qi Yue said with pity. "If you really pass the imperial examination and become a scholar, what can they do to you?"
That's a rather naive question.
What can a poor student do against a powerful family?
An Jun raised his head indifferently, "They can report me for favoritism and corruption, and even use my own writings to slander me. In that case, I will not only fail to become a Juren (a successful candidate in the provincial-level imperial examinations), but I will also be stripped of my Xiucai (a successful candidate in the county-level imperial examinations) status."
Ordinary people are powerless in the face of power.
Qi Yue opened his mouth in astonishment.
Qi Huai, who was standing to the side, helped him close his chin and clenched his fist, saying, "Perhaps, we can help you."
An Jun glanced over with a puzzled look.
“The practice of ghostwriting has affected the fairness of the imperial examinations and trapped many poor students in a vicious cycle. You are just one of the victims,” Xu Mo said in a deep voice. “We must make this matter known to the people of Fengjing, and even more so to the imperial family, in order to completely eradicate this phenomenon.”
“We know what you’re worried about—that you’ll be punished if things get out,” Qi Huai replied. “But what could be more desolate than returning home in disgrace? Besides, you are also victims. As the eldest son of the Minister of Rites, I will do my best to reduce your punishment.”
Although it was just an effort, the title of Minister of Rites carried immense weight.
An Jun sat blankly on the edge of the bed, his mind in turmoil for a long time, before finally steeling himself and saying, "Fine."
The moment he finished speaking, the dilapidated wooden door was kicked open.
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