A certain scholar from Shuntian Prefecture, hailing from a poor family caught in the grip of famine, fled with his entire household to Luoyang. The scholar, rather slow-witted, had reached the age of seventeen, yet his writing remained utter nonsense. Nevertheless, he possessed a handsome appearance, a talent for jesting, and an uncanny skill in composing letters. Strangers upon meeting him invariably praised him lavishly, little knowing the scholar lacked any genuine substance.

Soon after, his parents passed away one after the other, leaving the scholar utterly alone. To make a living, he temporarily took up teaching at a village private school. At that time, there lived in the village a Miss Yan, a descendant of a renowned family. She was exceptionally bright from a young age; her father had taught her to read, and Miss Yan possessed a memory that retained everything instantly. By the age of ten, she had begun studying poetry with her father and showed uncommon literary flair. Her father often remarked, "I have a female scholar in my house, alas she is not a man."

Master Yan cherished his only daughter dearly, spreading the word that "either my daughter remains unmarried, or she marries a high-ranking official." After her father's death, her mother remained steadfast in this view, adhering to the same criteria for selecting a son-in-law. Three years slipped by, and Miss Yan had yet to find a husband. At this point, her mother also passed away, leaving Miss Yan entirely alone and facing bitter hardship.

One day, a neighbor woman climbed over the wall, carrying a letter, and began conversing with Miss Yan. Miss Yan opened the letter to read; the script flowed beautifully, and after reading it several times, she could not help but nod in approval. The woman guessed her thoughts and laughed, "The writer is a dashing young man, about your age, and also without parents. If you fancy him, I will have my husband find a way to broker things." Hearing this, Miss Yan’s eyes grew tender, and she lowered her head without speaking.

This letter, of course, was penned by the scholar, who was on good terms with the woman’s husband and frequently corresponded with her. The woman returned home and immediately asked her husband to serve as matchmaker. The husband conveyed the matter to the scholar, who was overjoyed. He offered the golden crow earring left by his mother as a betrothal gift and entrusted the woman's husband to mediate the proposal; the arrangement was settled in one discussion.

The two set a date for the wedding, and their married life was harmonious. After seeing the scholar’s formal essays, Miss Yan laughed, "The essays you compose, husband, are like the work of two different people compared to your letters. At this standard, when will you ever pass the provincial exams?" Day in and day out, she urged the scholar to study diligently, being as strict as a tutor. Every evening, Miss Yan would light the lamp first and begin her own studies as an example, and the couple would read through the night until the third watch.

A year passed in this manner. The scholar’s writing skill matured considerably. He went to participate in the imperial examinations, only to fail repeatedly. He became utterly discouraged, his spirits low, and he wept bitterly. Miss Yan rebuked him, "A proper man, crying all day—truly a disgrace to your seven-foot frame. If I were a man, achieving official rank would be as easy as taking something out of my pocket."

The scholar, already in a foul mood, became furious upon hearing this and retorted, "You speak without knowing the difficulty, standing there and not having faced the examination hall. Do you think achieving fame is as easy as boiling water for rice in the kitchen? Even if you were to take the exam, wouldn't the result be the same as mine?"

Miss Yan smiled and said, "Husband, do not be angry yet. At the next examination, let me disguise myself as a man and take it for you. If I still fail to pass, I swear I will never again look down upon the heroes of the world." The scholar laughed, "Since you do not know what is good for you and insist on courting trouble, I shall indulge you. I only fear you will expose yourself and be ridiculed by the neighbors." Miss Yan replied, "I am not joking; I am serious. You once told me Shuntian Prefecture is your hometown; I intend to go back with you, disguised as your younger brother. Since you have been wandering since childhood, adding a few more relatives will raise no suspicion."

The scholar agreed, and Miss Yan smiled faintly, entering the room to change her appearance. When she emerged, she was clad in men's clothing, and she laughed, "Does this attire look like a man's?" The scholar gazed intently; his wife possessed a spirited vigor, appearing exactly like a young man, and he nodded repeatedly, "Yes, yes, exactly like one."

The two rode a donkey back to their hometown. The scholar's elder cousin was still alive and was greatly pleased to see two young men with faces as fine as jade, often providing them with assistance. Seeing the two studying diligently day and night, he respected them even more. He specifically hired a young page boy to attend to their daily needs. Every evening, the couple would send the page boy away early. If there was a local funeral requiring social obligations, the scholar would attend to them; Miss Yan never went out, dedicating all her focus to study.

After staying for half a year, outsiders rarely saw Miss Yan’s true appearance. If a guest actively requested an audience, the scholar would refuse them all. Some who had read Miss Yan’s essays would clap their hands in admiration, and those who visited unannounced, without prior notice, would find Miss Yan offering a slight bow before retreating to her room. Guests who witnessed Miss Yan’s demeanor were greatly charmed, and praise spread rapidly, leading to her renown. Prominent gentry families began sending matchmakers to propose marriage.

The elder cousin discussed the important matter of marriage with her, but Miss Yan would only smile silently. When pressed, she would state, "I am determined to achieve official rank. Until I stand above others, I will not marry." Soon, the preliminary examination began, and the couple participated together. The scholar failed again, but Miss Yan ranked first. Following this, in the provincial exam, she ranked fourth in Shuntian Prefecture. The next year, she passed the Jinshi examination, was appointed Magistrate of Tongcheng County, and performed excellently in office. She was soon promoted to Censor-in-Chief of Henan Circuit, becoming as wealthy as a prince.

Later, Miss Yan requested leave, citing illness, and returned to her hometown, refusing all visitors. Although her status was noble, she remained unmarried, never mentioning taking a wife. The local populace found this strange and naturally whispered amongst themselves. After returning home, Miss Yan gradually purchased maids. Some speculated wildly, "A grown man buying so many young servants must harbor ill intentions." However, the cousin’s wife secretly observed that Miss Yan behaved with utmost propriety, with nothing untoward occurring between her and the maids.

Not long after, the Ming Dynasty fell, and chaos engulfed the realm. Only then did Miss Yan reveal the truth to her cousin’s wife, saying, "I will tell you honestly, I am your cousin’s wife. It was only because my husband was mediocre and unable to establish himself that I disguised myself as a man and achieved official success. The reason I remained secluded for so long was my fear that my identity would be revealed, inviting punishment from the Emperor and ridicule."

The cousin’s wife did not believe her. Miss Yan then removed her official boots, revealing her delicate, slender feet. At this point, the cousin’s wife had no choice but to believe her, seeing the cotton padding stuffed inside the boots; the cousin’s wife was both astonished and deeply impressed.

Later on, the scholar inherited his wife's official title, while Miss Yan remained in the inner chambers, refusing to step out. Since she had never borne a child in her life, she used her money to purchase concubines to ensure the scholar’s lineage continued. She sometimes joked with her husband, "All noble officials enjoy having numerous wives and concubines. Only I, after serving for more than a decade, remain unmarried. Now that you enjoy the beauties, husband, you should be content."

The scholar laughed, "If you feel unbalanced, you can also find male companions; I wouldn't mind."

When the scholar’s fortunes rose and his standing became illustrious, officials and wealthy merchants vied to visit him, all receiving him with the courtesy due to a Censor. However, because his title originated from his wife, the scholar was too ashamed to mention it and always styled himself merely as a Xiucai (scholar), never riding in an official sedan chair throughout his life.