Poor but talented scholar

Chapter 18 Enrollment

Master Zhao raised his white eyebrows slightly.

It's already quite remarkable that an eight-year-old child from a rural farming family can recognize the numbers 3, 100, and 100. Yet, he's already starting to read the Four Books?

"Oh?" Master Zhao said calmly, his hands behind his back. "Since you've read 'The Great Learning,' can you recite the first chapter?"

Lu Shouye listened from the side, his palms sweating profusely. He had no idea what his son had learned from his seventh uncle, so he could only watch nervously.

Without hesitation, Lu Chuan straightened up, looked straight ahead, and his clear voice rang out in the courtyard:

"The Great Learning teaches us to manifest our bright virtue, to love the people, and to abide in perfect goodness. Knowing where to rest, we can then be resolute; being resolute, we can then be calm; being calm, we can then be at peace; being at peace, we can then deliberate; deliberating, we can then attain..."

He didn't memorize it quickly, but every word was clear and his punctuation was precise. There wasn't a single stumble, and he didn't have the swaying, rote memorization tone that ordinary children use when reciting.

After reciting the first chapter in one go, Lu Chuan stopped and bowed slightly.

A distinct look of surprise flashed in Master Zhao's usually calm eyes. He looked at the child before him, who was dressed in tattered cotton clothes, thin but standing ramrod straight.

"Take these things."

Master Zhao turned his head and gave an instruction to the old servant behind him.

Lu Shouye was stunned for a moment, and it took him a full two breaths to realize the meaning of those words. He suddenly raised his head, his face full of joy, and hurriedly handed over the warm blue cloth bundle he was holding, his hands trembling slightly.

Master Zhao looked at Lu Chuan, nodded, and his tone became unusually gentle.

"Starting tomorrow, come to the front hall for classes."

After saying this, Master Zhao put his hands behind his back, turned around, and went back to the main hall.

The old servant stepped forward and beckoned to Lu Shouye, who was still standing there in a daze: "Come with me, let's go to the backyard to register your name and get acquainted with the school dormitory."

Lu Shouye seemed to wake from a dream, and responded repeatedly. He pulled Lu Chuan and followed the old servant through a moon gate to the backyard.

"The tuition fee has already been accepted by the teacher, so it's all in order," the old servant explained as he walked away. "But since you're going to live at the school, the rules need to be made clear. The school provides meals, which are divided into three grades, with the cheapest costing four hundred coins a month. If you don't eat at the school, you'll have to pay fifty coins a month for your bed and charcoal in the winter."

Lu Shouye paused for a moment.

He unbuttoned the outermost old coat, reached into his inner garment, rummaged around for a while, and pulled out a cloth bag wrapped in several layers of oiled paper.

The cloth bag was opened, revealing it filled with loose coins. Some were old, blackened coins; some were inferior coins with worn-out lettering; and there were a few small pieces of silver, each the size of a fingernail.

Lu Chuan stared quietly at the bag of money, his gaze darkening slightly.

He recognized the money.

Last night, Uncle Liu summoned the heads of several households in the clan to the ancestral hall.

Second Uncle Lu Shoutian took twenty coins that the family had prepared to buy salt; the blind old woman at the east end of the village took out three coins; and then there was Uncle Lu Youcai, who, although he had caused a scene before, threw thirty coins on the table last night with a dark face.

Lu Shouye clumsily and carefully counted out four hundred coins and handed them to the old servant with both hands.

"Old man, we'll pay the lowest grade, four hundred coins."

The old servant glanced at the pile of tattered loose change, said nothing, nodded and accepted it: "Go find an empty bed in the easternmost room."

The father and son pushed open the door of the easternmost school building.

The room was spacious, built of blue bricks, and contained a long heated kang (a traditional heated platform bed). At that moment, the students were all having class in the front hall, and no one was inside.

Four or five quilts were already laid on the kang (a heated brick bed), all covered with soft Songjiang cotton cloth. One of them even had a silk blanket on top. On the small table next to it, there was a hand warmer and a brass kettle.

Lu Shouye didn't dare to go inside, and finally chose the corner closest to the door, which was also the most likely to be drafty.

He took the tattered burlap sack off his back. It was a thin quilt stuffed with old cattail fluff and tattered cotton, with two patches of different colors on it.

It looked out of place next to those bright and shiny bedding.

Lu Shouye didn't care about any of that. He took off his shoes, stepped onto the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), and used his rough hands to smooth out the corners of the quilt little by little, afraid that even a small wrinkle would hurt his son.

After making the bed, he stuffed the coarse cloth bag containing the dry food under his pillow.

"Chuan'er." After finishing all this, Lu Shouye turned around and whispered, "These cakes are hard, so eat them when you're hungry. There's hot water in the school, so soak them in a bowl for a while until they're soft before swallowing, so you don't cut your throat."

Lu Chuan looked at his father and nodded: "I know."

Lu Shouye stood there for a while, rubbing his hands vigorously on the hem of his clothes. He looked around, then took out the oil paper packet that had contained the money from his pocket; there were only a dozen or so copper coins left inside.

He grabbed Lu Chuan's hand and forced the money into it.

"Dad, take this money back with you. We still need to buy salt at home." Lu Chuan pushed the money back.

"Take it." Lu Shouye's voice carried an unyielding force. "A poor family needs to be frugal on the road. The town is different from the village. If you get a headache or fever, you can't be without money to buy medicine. Don't refuse, I know what I'm doing."

Looking at his father's hands, which were covered in cracks and calluses, Lu Chuan accepted the money without further hesitation.

Seeing that he had accepted the money, Lu Shouye straightened up, looked around the bright brick house, and a fleeting, unreal look crossed his eyes before turning into deep anticipation.

"Dad went back; there's still work to be done in the fields."

He was a man of few words, and he couldn't articulate any grand principles about bringing glory to one's ancestors.

Lu Chuan followed him out of the schoolhouse and escorted him all the way to the old pine tree at the school gate.

Lu Shouye climbed onto the dilapidated oxcart and picked up the whip. He glanced back at Lu Chuan and waved his hand, "Go inside, it's cold outside."

Lu Chuan stood on the steps, looking at his father's hunched back.

He didn't cry or make a fuss like a normal child, nor did he make any promises.

He simply took a step back, straightened his slightly oversized long gown, lifted the front, and bowed deeply and solemnly to his father.

Lu Shouye seemed to sense something and his body suddenly stiffened.

Looking at that thin figure bowing deeply to the ground in the wind, this man, who had never shed a tear in the face of famine and serious illness, suddenly felt a pang of sadness in his eyes, and his vision blurred instantly.

Without pausing, he abruptly turned his head and lashed down with the whip.

"drive!"

The oxcart creaked and groaned as it rolled along the cobblestone road, slowly disappearing into the distance.

Only after the oxcart turned the corner and disappeared completely from sight did Lu Chuan straighten up, turn around, and walk into the courtyard.

……

As evening fell, the class ended in the front hall.

The five schoolchildren who shared a dormitory returned one after another. Most of them were children of merchants or wealthy families in the town, around ten years old, dressed in robes of silk or fine cotton, and they pushed open the door chatting and laughing.

The laughter stopped as soon as I entered.

They saw Lu Chuan sitting in the corner closest to the door, and the patched, tattered quilt beneath him.