During this time, Qiao Yuanzhen's life had been utterly desolate. He had eagerly awaited becoming a Scholar, but to his dismay, he faced the result of failure. Already a man of pride and arrogance, how could he withstand such a blow?
Besides, the Qiao family was, after all, a poor family. Without Li Qinghe's financial support, he truly had nothing. Sons of wealthy families looked down on him with disdain, both openly and covertly. He had wanted to rise above them and slap their faces hard. Now, even that modest wish had come to naught.
All his rationality had completely collapsed. He hated that impoverished household to death, so he smashed it into pieces. He didn't want to go back, spending all his silver on drowning his sorrows. Today, having spent even his last coin, he was kicked out.
Staggering through the streets, he bore no trace of a scholar's demeanor, but was entirely a vile drunk, cursing and swearing.
