In the Years When I Was a Father

Chapter 44: Strict Father in Ancient Times (1)

Qi Sheng woke up and looked at the concubine lying beside him. He quietly got up, intending to leave.

“Mm… Master, are you getting up in the night?” Madam Liu, only twenty-seven years old, had a graceful figure, full curves, and a stunningly beautiful face full of charm. At this moment, her soft and coquettish demeanor made it even harder for a man to resist.

But Qi Sheng had no time to admire her now. His eldest son was still kneeling in the ancestral hall, injured. Even though it was May—neither too hot nor too cold—kneeling there all night was no easy thing.

Qi Sheng comforted her, “It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”

Qi Sheng carried considerable authority, and Madam Liu dared not ask more. She obediently lay back in bed. After Qi Sheng left, she waited a while before summoning a maid to inquire, “Where did the master go just now?”

The maid Yuzhu respectfully replied, “Madam, the master went to the ancestral hall.”

Madam Liu was puzzled upon hearing this. Why would the master go to the ancestral hall at this hour?

Qi Sheng’s eldest son, Qi Xiuwen, was born of his official wife, Lady Wang. From a young age, he had been clever and sensible. Qi Sheng, who had once been an official himself, personally guided his studies. Qi Xiuwen passed the county-level exam at age twelve, the provincial-level at thirteen, and became a recommended scholar (juren) at seventeen. Qi Sheng had thought the imperial examination road would be smooth for his son. The usually stern Lord Qi had even smiled in his dreams multiple times.

Unfortunately, things didn’t go as hoped. In the following year’s capital exam (huishi), Qi Xiuwen’s name didn’t appear on the list. Qi Sheng could only sigh, and then pushed his son even harder in his studies.

Whether it was the pressure or a lack of true talent, Qi Xiuwen failed again three years later. This time, Qi Sheng was furious. He believed his son had not been diligent in his studies at all. Coincidentally, there had been a grand literary gathering in the prefectural city a few days prior, and despite refusing several times, Qi Xiuwen was finally dragged along by his friends. Qi Sheng had been on an inspection tour of a nearby town and wasn’t expected to return soon. Qi Xiuwen thought he’d be back before his father noticed, but unfortunately, Qi Sheng returned the very next day.

Upon learning that his son had not only failed again but also dared to “sneak off” to a literary gathering, Qi Sheng exploded with rage. He first harshly scolded Lady Wang.

When Qi Xiuwen returned home, what he saw was his father’s darkened face and the household punishment tools already laid out.

Before he could even explain, he was tied to the punishment bench by the household staff.

Qi Sheng had been suppressing anger ever since his son failed the exam. Now, finding out he had snuck out only enraged him further. He even began to suspect that his son had always been indulging in such activities behind his back, which he saw as the reason for the failure—how else could someone who passed the provincial-level exam at seventeen fail twice in a row?

Now that he had “figured it out,” Qi Sheng didn’t hold back. He whipped his son with full force and no method, ignoring the pleas of Lady Wang and Xiuwen’s wife, Lin. Only when Qi Xiuwen’s backside was a bloody mess and he fainted did Qi Sheng stop. But even then, he didn’t let it go—he ordered the servants to splash him awake with cold water and had him sent to kneel in the ancestral hall.

Qi Xiuwen had been strictly disciplined since childhood, frequently whipped with rods and canes, so he thought his pain tolerance was decent. Still, this time the beating made him faint.

Now kneeling in the ancestral hall, every part of his body ached. Coupled with hunger, he almost passed out again. Qi Xiuwen endured in silence. He knew his father’s wrath wasn’t just over the literary gathering—it was really about his repeated failures to pass the exam.

He understood deep down that compared to those who did pass, he simply wasn’t at that level.

Even though he had become a juren at seventeen, his rank had been quite low. Their prefecture wasn’t known for producing top scholars either. Compared to the talented students from Jiangnan, his failure at the capital exam wasn’t surprising. But these were things he could never say to his father.

After his first failure, his father had shamelessly called in favors and eventually managed to invite the famed Master Zhang to tutor him. Qi Xiuwen had indeed improved in those two years, but it was also under Master Zhang’s guidance that he realized just how far he was from truly qualifying as a top-ranked scholar.

Unfortunately, his father’s hopes were too high. Even Master Zhang’s personal letter of advice failed to dissuade Qi Sheng from forcing his son to keep trying. Qi Xiuwen gave a bitter smile—was his father too confident in him, or just too desperate?

Gritting his teeth, Qi Xiuwen tried to stay upright and not appear too pathetic. He looked up at the dark night sky, just hoping the sun would rise soon so he could survive this punishment.

As Qi Sheng made his way to the ancestral hall, he recalled the plotline of this life—first mocking the original host’s incompetence, then pitying Qi Xiuwen for a life tragically driven by his father’s obsession with the exams.

Qi Sheng had passed the imperial exam at twenty-five, but unfortunately only achieved the rank of “tong jinshi,” a lower-tier jinshi—equivalent to a concubine among officials, a lifelong regret for him. The Qi family came from a farming and scholarly background with no powerful connections, so Qi Sheng had no patrons to smooth his path. He wasn’t particularly talented either, and his political career was mediocre. It took him six years to rise from deputy magistrate to county magistrate. In contrast, some of his peers from the same exam year were now fifth or even fourth-rank officials—some had even reached the third rank!

Qi Sheng knew his own prospects had plateaued. At best, with luck, he might climb a bit higher, but never beyond the fifth rank. The gap between fifth and fourth rank was like an uncrossable chasm in the bureaucracy. Disheartened, he saw hope in Qi Xiuwen’s natural intelligence and diligence, believing it to be divine favor. So, he poured all his energy and expectations into his son.

When Qi Xiuwen passed the provincial exam at a young age, Qi Sheng was ecstatic and couldn’t help but imagine the Qi family’s bright political future. But just as the dream was at its sweetest, cold water was poured over it—repeatedly and ruthlessly.

While Qi Sheng was fuming and stifled with anger, he pushed Qi Xiuwen even harder. Except for the times he was out studying at Master Zhang’s house, all other moments were forced into relentless study. Originally, Qi Xiuwen still had hope of passing the exam, but the constant pressure became unbearable. By the time the third imperial exam came around, the psychological burden was too much, and he unfortunately contracted typhoid fever. Before the second exam session was even over, he had to be carried out by the officials.

Qi Sheng, while filled with rage and disappointment, also saw his son as hopeless. As soon as Qi Xiuwen’s health showed signs of recovery, he pressured him into studying even more intensely. At the time, Qi Xiuwen was just as miserable inside. Years of oppression made him snap, and he talked back to Qi Sheng for the first time. Naturally, this earned him another brutal beating. Already not fully recovered, and mentally and physically worn down, Qi Xiuwen began burning with fever in the middle of the night, muttering incoherently in his sleep. Even the century-old ginseng the doctor used couldn’t save him…

Qi Sheng hurried to the ancestral hall, his heart aching as he saw Qi Xiuwen still kneeling in the center, barely holding himself up.

At twenty-one, he would still be a college student in the modern world—pampered, given whatever he asked for, and never even scolded harshly. But in this ancient world, ruled by the doctrines of Heaven, Emperor, Parents, and Teachers, a father’s orders could not be defied. Disobedience meant a heavy beating with the family rod, and not even the tiniest hint of rebellion was allowed.

Qi Sheng curled his lip—“To hell with this feudal, outdated thinking!”

Qi Xiuwen, who had been silently trying to encourage himself, heard footsteps and reflexively turned his head. Seeing his father’s solemn face, he quickly adjusted his posture, knelt straight, and kowtowed in greeting. Fear gripped his heart. Had his father not yet calmed down? Was he here for another round?

The more he thought about it, the more afraid he became. When he adjusted his body, a tear in the wounds on his back caused such pain that he began trembling uncontrollably.

Qi Sheng’s heart ached at the sight. He quickly called for Qi Xiuwen’s personal servant: “What are you waiting for? Help the young master back to his room to rest!”

Qi Xiuwen’s servant, Qingzhu, was overjoyed and quickly called another servant to help lift him carefully.

Only after standing up did Qi Xiuwen feel slightly relieved, but he still watched his father nervously. Luckily, Qi Sheng continued, “Have your wife tend your wounds properly. Spend the next two days in your room reflecting on your actions.”

Watching his limping, slow-moving son being helped away, Qi Sheng sighed and didn’t return to Lady Liu’s room. Instead, he headed to his study to plan for the future.

Currently, he was a seventh-rank county magistrate governing an extremely poor region. Though the county lay on flatlands, it was deep inland and far from any prosperous prefectures. Commerce was undeveloped, agriculture barely self-sufficient. In good years, they could get by, but in years of disaster, famine and refugee uprisings were real risks. In this era, where people lived and died by the whims of the weather, Qi Sheng had to plan ahead. Better safe than sorry.

Besides, now that he had taken over this life, he had to make something of it. The original Qi Sheng had no ambitions and pinned all hopes on his son’s success to bring honor to the family. Qi Sheng wasn’t going to be that useless.

Qi Xiuwen was indeed intelligent and hardworking. If not for the original Qi Sheng’s excessive pressure that stifled him, perhaps he would already be a top scorer.

Recalling Qi Xiuwen’s essays, Qi Sheng rubbed his brow.

What Qi Xiuwen lacked most was skill in policy discussion essays—a weakness he shared with the original Qi Sheng. Otherwise, how else could a man spend ten years and remain a seventh-rank official?

Unfortunately, the original Qi Sheng never realized this, plagued instead by the common delusion of fallen scholars: that he was a misunderstood genius. Qi Sheng shook his head and dropped that line of thought. He did know a fair bit about the imperial examination system, but with Master Zhang already tutoring Qi Xiuwen, he didn’t plan to interfere too much. A bit of guidance at the right moment would suffice.

He continued carefully assessing the situation in the county and made some preliminary plans before finally heading to bed.

Back in Wenqing Courtyard, inside Qi Xiuwen’s room, he lay facedown on the bed, gritting his teeth against the pain. Hearing soft sobs behind him, he forced a smile and tried to soothe: “It’s fine, Yuan’er. Just hurry up and apply the medicine. It doesn’t hurt much.”

Lin Yuyuan carefully lightened her touch, wiping away her tears with a touch of resentment: “Father-in-law went too far. Why did he have to hit you so hard?”

Before marrying into the Qi family, Lin Yuyuan had heard stories about its strict house rules, but she hadn’t fully grasped what “strict” meant. In just four short years, every time her father-in-law enforced family discipline, she was terrified. Her husband had already passed out, yet still had to endure punishment!

Lin Yuyuan was the legitimate daughter of Qi Sheng’s former superior, now Governor Lin. Impressed by Qi Xiuwen’s intellect, Governor Lin not only married his daughter to him but also discreetly helped Qi Sheng’s career. Otherwise, Qi Sheng might still be stuck as a mere assistant magistrate.

Qi Xiuwen sighed inwardly. While he didn’t fully agree with his father’s methods, he wasn’t at the point of resenting him. He gently defended him: “I left the house without his permission. That was wrong. I deserved punishment. Don’t say such things again.”

Lin Yuyuan bit her lip and nodded, knowing how filial her husband was. She said no more about her father-in-law but, looking at the bruises, couldn’t help suggesting, “Why don’t I ask my father to step in and try persuading him? If he keeps locking you up at home to study, you’ll fall ill!”

Qi Xiuwen shook his head. “Don’t say nonsense. Staying home to study is perfectly fine. Don’t overthink it.”

In truth, Qi Xiuwen didn’t want to be confined to studying in a small room all day. Especially since policy essays—his weak point—couldn’t be improved through bookish isolation alone. But he knew his father’s temper well. Having served under his father-in-law for years, if his former boss interfered with how he raised his son now, his proud father might explode with anger.

Noticing his wife’s silence, Qi Xiuwen softened his tone and coaxed her: “Isn’t Master Zhang still here? I’ll visit him more often. I’m sure Father won’t object.”

Lin Yuyuan said no more. She knew her husband had made up his mind. Carefully finishing the application of medicine, she fed him some porridge and pastries before finally relaxing. When she returned from washing her hands in the outer room, he had already drifted into sleep.