I want so badly to...

Although Wei Guangde spoke in a low voice, the others all heard him. Perhaps until he spoke, they hadn’t realized it was time to eat. Maybe they knew but wanted to wait until they returned to the city to find food. No one had mentioned hunger before, but once Wei Guangde said it, they all stopped and exchanged glances.

“Haha, now that you mention it, I am hungry too. Didn’t even notice it’s mealtime already. Today, I’ll treat everyone—let’s eat here at Xunyang Tower,” Zhang Shigui said first, ready to lead the others into the restaurant.

“As soon as Wei the waiter said he’s hungry, I feel it too,” Wu Dong said, rubbing his stomach with a smile.

“Guangde must have remembered Xunyang Tower from reading Water Margin. Haha, but drinking here and enjoying the riverside view isn’t bad at all,” Zhang Shigui chuckled.

At first, Wei Guangde only felt that the name Xunyang Tower seemed familiar, though he struggled to recall where he had seen it. But after Zhang Shigui’s jokes, it suddenly clicked—it was a scene from Water Margin, where Song Jiang inscribed a rebellious poem, leading to his eventual capture and forced life as an outlaw.

Water Margin’s author, Shi Nai’an, lived during the late Yuan and early Ming dynasties. By now, the novel was widely circulated in the Ming dynasty and often discussed by scholars. However, Wei Guangde harbored a question: Water Margin was famously one of the “Four Great Classical Novels” after the founding of the empire, yet he recalled that during the Ming and Qing dynasties, it was considered a banned book. So how had Zhang Shigui read it?

“Brother Zhang, you’ve read Water Margin too?” Wei Guangde asked quickly, feeling it was no big deal and speaking casually.

“Of course, but while you might be interested in the righteous heroes of Liangshan, I’m fascinated by other parts,” Zhang Shigui replied casually, implying there were favorite episodes of his own.

Hearing this, Wu Dong and Wei Wencai exchanged puzzled looks, unsure which parts they meant. But Wei Guangde’s imagination was sharp, an advantage of living in a later era, and he immediately guessed the focus: if not the heroes, then the other characters. Who else could that be? Naturally, the corrupt official Gao Yanei and the notorious Ximen Qing—and perhaps others...

At that thought, Wei Guangde almost burst into laughter, but as an eleven-year-old boy, he knew such a lewd smile was inappropriate, so he quickly restrained himself and put on a curious expression. Zhang Shigui noticed the swift change and teased him, “Young fellow, don’t learn bad habits, reading Water Margin and only focusing on the dirty parts.”

Wei Guangde suppressed his grin and imitated a scholar’s respectful gesture toward Zhang Shigui. “Likewise, likewise.”

Though slightly older, they were peers sharing jokes and didn’t mind such teasing. Yet Wei Guangde thought that once the famous novel was published, Zhang wouldn’t be reading Water Margin anymore; after all, Lanling Xiaoxiaosheng’s work was also well loved in his time, though only circulated privately. Official versions existed but were censored, while the full versions remained the popular topic.

Wei Guangde’s knowledge of the unpublished book came from online research, and the supposed Water Margin side story seemed plausible.

When they arrived at Xunyang Tower and were about to enter, two staff members blocked their way.

“Gentlemen, apologies, but the restaurant is closed today,” the young clerk bowed respectfully.

“Closed but the door is open—what’s the meaning of that?” Zhang Shigui frowned, displeased.

The restaurant’s wide-open doors suggested otherwise.

“Apologies, sirs, but the restaurant has been privately booked by a guest today. We cannot accommodate you. Please forgive the inconvenience,” the well-dressed waiter explained earnestly, clarifying that the entire establishment was reserved.

Wei Guangde glanced up to see several men in scholar’s robes standing by the windows, seemingly enjoying the view. They all appeared to be learned men, likely with official ranks.

Curious, Wei Guangde asked, “Who has booked the place today? Who are these people? They look like scholars.”

“Master Wei, today the restaurant is reserved by Master Zhu Shilong of Jiujiang Prefecture. He’s hosting a banquet for his classmates. After this, they will close the doors to focus on studying for the autumn imperial exams next year,” the waiter replied respectfully, showing no disdain for Wei Guangde’s youth.

Wei Guangde understood at once: anyone allowed inside today must at least hold the rank of a licentiate or be Zhu Shilong himself. Reciting poems at Xunyang Tower was clearly out of the question. Though disappointed, he accepted the situation.

“Then let’s return to the city to eat. It’s only about half a mile back—not far,” Zhang Shigui said, resigned.

On the way back, Wu Dong asked about Zhu Shilong’s background, and Zhang Shigui knew something.

“Zhu Shilong is considered a talented scholar in Jiujiang. I’ve heard he failed the last provincial exam but intends to try again next year.”

Shaking his head, Zhang added, “Those scholars look down on us who have inherited positions from the court. We don’t need to respect them for toiling over fame and rank like their lives depend on it. For families like theirs, the imperial exams are a narrow bridge—only a few can cross. This is Jiujiang, not Ji’an.”

His words earned nods from Wu Dong and Wei Wencai.

Though Wu Dong was passionate about official rank, he knew his future lay in the military—not starting as a common soldier but directly as a company commander. Zhang Shigui also knew his role: a future deputy commander of the Jiujiang garrison, inheriting his noble family’s post with ease.

Among them, only Wei Guangde seemed without a set career, needing to forge his own path.

The narrow bridge—that was the challenge ahead for Wei Guangde. If he couldn’t cross it, he would have to rely on his own two plans.

Along the way, passing scholars in round-collared robes, Wei Guangde looked on with envy, silently wishing he could leap directly to the ranks of licentiate or jinshi.

In his heart, Wei Guangde shouted aloud.