gnovel Chapter 21 The Iron Laws Under the Pen
Chapter 21 The Iron Laws Under the Pen
The next day, the morning stars were few and far between.
Lu Chuan opened his eyes to the deepest snores in the entire dormitory.
Without any hesitation, he rolled off the bunk, splashed his face with the icy water from the well, and woke himself up completely.
He returned to his seat and did not rush to light the lamp. Instead, he silently recited the new words he had memorized the day before, using the faint light of dawn.
For him, the early morning hours are his "net profit"—no one disturbs him, making it his most productive time.
Just after Chen Shi (7-9 AM), the Class C dormitory, which exuded the smell of aged ink, was filled with people.
Master Zhao walked steadily onto the platform, placed the ruler on the table with a crisp sound, and calmed the restlessness in the room.
"The key to literacy and early education lies in the basic structure."
Master Zhao looked around and said solemnly, "Calligraphy is a person's attire, and also a stepping stone to the imperial examinations."
Today, we will only learn three characters: "上" (shàng), "大" (dà), and "人" (rén).
Master Zhao picked up his brush, dipped it heavily in the thick ink on the rough-edged paper on the table, and moved extremely slowly with each movement.
"The character '上' (shàng) represents standing in the sky. The vertical stroke should be short and strong, while the horizontal stroke below should be long and stable. This is the posture of standing tall between heaven and earth."
"The character '大' (dà) should be formed by the horizontal stroke, which should open up the chest and the intersection of the left and right strokes should be like a person with outstretched arms, generous and open, not timid and shrinking."
"The character '人' (person) is composed of two strokes, one left and one right, which support each other. A single stroke cannot stand alone, and a single right stroke cannot walk alone. Only by supporting each other can one stand firm and go far."
Master Zhao's calligraphy may not be considered that of a famous calligrapher, but it is excellent in its uprightness and gravitas, exuding the unique integrity and discipline of a teacher.
"Copy it exactly as shown. First, use rough paper, keeping your fingers firm but your palm relaxed. Remember not to waste ink and brush," Master Li instructed.
The sound of grinding ink filled the schoolhouse.
Zhang Fugui and his friends casually spread out the paper, dipped their pens in thick ink, and hurriedly began to write.
Lu Chuan remained motionless.
He stared at the template left by the Master, dissecting the structure of those three characters into countless supporting points in his mind. He was calculating the tilt angles of the strokes and simulating the force of the pen tip brushing across the paper.
When he finally picked up the worn-out pen, his movements were surprisingly slow.
The first stroke of the character "上" was slanted, and the ink smeared into a large blot on the cheap straw paper, looking like a comical lump.
Lu Chuan frowned slightly. Unlike other children, he didn't crumple up the paper in frustration. Instead, he stared at the "flaw" for a while.
"Not enough wrist strength, too heavy a stroke at the start." He made a precise judgment in his mind.
Lu Chuan continued writing. He made the most of a piece of yellowed scrap paper.
While others write a single character about half the size of their palm, he shrinks the characters to a tiny size and writes them densely packed.
On the first page, the characters were like withered wood, crooked and askew; on the second page, they gradually gained strength, but still appeared somewhat sluggish; by the third page, the originally limp character for "person" was written with a kind of resilience.
Master Zhao walked around the schoolhouse with his hands behind his back, occasionally tapping the backs of students who were sitting improperly with his ruler. He stopped when he reached Lu Chuan.
He looked at the piece of rough paper in front of Lu Chuan, which was filled with ink so much that the original color was almost invisible.
The writing on the paper was indeed ugly to look at at first, but Master Zhao keenly noticed that Lu Chuan was correcting the deviation of the previous character with each character he wrote.
He was surprised by the speed at which this self-correction occurred.
To his surprise, Lu Chuan was not discouraged by his poor handwriting. He remained calm and composed, and his pen strokes became more and more resolute with each stroke.
"Your handwriting reflects your personality. It lacks a bit of gentleness and has too much of a solitary indignation." Master Li pointed to the character "大" (big), his tone unusually calm. "Keep your mind calm, and your hand will naturally become steady."
"Don't rush to make it take shape; first strive for it to be upright."
Lu Chuan paused slightly in his hand holding the pen, then bowed and accepted the instruction: "I know I was wrong, and I will certainly make up my mind."
He took a deep breath, clearing his mind of all the calculations about family finances, revenge, and the future, leaving only the small space between the black and white words on the paper.
With another stroke, the stroke of the character "人" (person) was flicked out, the tip of the pen gliding across the paper with a soft rustling sound, yet the force steadily penetrated the back of the paper.
As the setting sun slanted into the school building once more, Lu Chuan put away the stack of blackened draft paper.
He didn't throw it away, but carefully folded it and put it in his bag. Even though it was no longer suitable for writing, this thick piece of scrap paper was still a "stub" for him to compare progress and reflect on gains and losses.
Li Ji sat not far away, watching Lu Chuan's old, almost worn-out sheep's hair brush struggle across the straw paper, a cold smile curving his lips.
He received his early education in the town, and his family never lacked writing materials. Although his handwriting lacked style, it was still neat and orderly.
"A poor man is still a poor man. He thinks he can become a top scholar by grabbing a withered tree branch?" Li Ji cursed inwardly.
In his eyes, the intrusion of a peasant like Lu Chuan was a desecration of "civilized people" like them.
He had already caught the wink Zhang Fugui gave him, and his plan for the "welcome ceremony" grew even more ruthless.
......
The dining hall was bustling with activity at lunchtime.
Lu Chuan sat opposite Zhao Jiaye, shoveling food into his coarse rice, and asked in a very low voice, "Brother Liu, what kind of people are those 'important guests' in town?"
While taking a sip of soup, Liu Zhe glanced quickly at the table at the head of the table and said in a low voice, "Brother Lu, you don't know this yet, but Class C is a deep rabbit hole. Those three are the local tyrants of Qingyang County."
"Let's start with Li Ji, the one wearing blue silk." Liu Zhe curled his lip. "His father is a head constable in the county's criminal investigation department. Although he's not a proper official, he has dozens of tax collectors and arresters under his command in this area."
"The worst part is that Li Ji was actually born to his father's mistress, but was registered under the name of his good-for-nothing uncle in the countryside."
"His uncle was an honest and simple tenant farmer, with a clean reputation as a 'good family man,' all so that he could smoothly take the imperial examination route."
"His father was used to all the backstabbing and infighting in the county government, and he raised this kid to be full of bad ideas."
"That chubby Zhang Fugui, needless to say, his family is even more well-off." Liu Zhe's voice carried a hint of envy. "His family owns the largest oil press in the south of the county. They handle nearly half of the town's sesame oil and soybean oil business."
"His father was a typical moneylender; he not only sold oil, but also secretly made money at interest."
"Zhang Fugui was born late in life and was spoiled rotten by his family. His father even donated more than a dozen loads of lamp oil behind the academy just to get the teacher to take better care of him."
"His fat body is all made up of oil and fat."
"As for that Wang Lang..." Liu Zhe pointed to the boy who always put on airs, "His grandfather was a student admitted to the county school. Although he didn't pass the imperial examination, he was still the number one 'old scholar' in our town."
"The Wang family was once very wealthy, but they lost most of it in a lawsuit. Now they rely on teaching a few children in town and writing family genealogies for wealthy families to maintain their reputation."
"Wang Lang prides himself on being from a 'noble family,' and he's incredibly arrogant. He looks down on us who crawled out of the mud."
"In his eyes, our presence here is a defilement of the sacred ground."