Poor but talented scholar

Chapter 10 June Rain

Time flies, and June has arrived in the blink of an eye.

For the past two months, Uncle Qi's house at the east end of Lujia Village has become the place where Lu Chuan spends the most time every day.

Seventh Uncle Lu Dewen discovered that this child named Lu Chuan was indeed a "freak".

Ordinary children learn the Thousand Character Classic by reading its rhythm and memorizing the shapes of the characters. But Lu Chuan is different; he reads as if he is disassembling a skeleton.

When his seventh uncle taught him a word, he could often ask questions about its usage in land deeds and tax books.

The intense focus and purposefulness of the child gave Uncle Qi the illusion that the child was not learning new things, but rather reviewing.

Originally, Lu Chuan planned to teach the "Hundred Family Surnames" and "Thousand Character Classic" for a year, but he mastered them in just two months.

Moreover, the characters he practiced with a worn-out brush, though lacking the refined elegance of a scholar, were extremely neat and square.

Gradually, the people of Liuhe Village noticed that the taciturn young man from the third branch of the Lu family had changed.

Initially, it was Aunt Wang from next door who wanted to send a message to her son who was doing odd jobs in the county, so she went to Uncle Qi's door for help.

Uncle Qi was suffering from back pain that day, so he casually pointed to Lu Chuan, who was tidying up the pages of a book, and said, "Let this kid write for you. He can read and he's meticulous."

Aunt Wang looked at the little boy, who wasn't even as tall as the table, with a mixture of disbelief and skepticism.

Lu Chuan didn't say much. He laid out the paper, ground the ink, and started writing. He not only clearly wrote down Aunt Wang's words, "I have ten eggs saved up at home. I'll come back to get them when I have time," but also helped her calculate the shortfall in wages her son was owed for working at the grain store.

From then on, the name "Young Master Lu" quietly spread throughout the village.

If anyone is unsure about the intricacies of the land deed when dividing land, or if anyone is afraid of being tricked by petty officials when paying taxes in the county, or even if Old Lu from the village wants to give his newborn grandson a catchy and unique name, they will all go around to the front of the third house or squat at the entrance of the small courtyard in the east.

Lu Chuan never refuses, but he also has his own rules.

When it came to writing letters or teaching characters, he only accepted money for the paper money. If he helped people with accounting or land deeds, he would readily accept two sweet potatoes he had grown himself or a handful of dried beans. After returning home, these things would always keep Lu Xiaoman occupied for quite some time.

What the villagers respect most about Lu Chuan is his "humility".

Some villagers are illiterate and ask very tricky questions, sometimes even with a touch of superstition.

Lu Chuan never mocks. If he encounters an ancient allusion or etiquette that even this "modern person" is unsure about, he will honestly reply, "I haven't fully mastered this part yet. Let me go back and look it up in the book, and I'll answer you again tomorrow."

This composure gradually silenced the clansmen who initially thought that "supporting a child's education is a waste of time." Even the most calculating eldest uncle, Lu Youcai, has recently become more amiable when he encounters Lu Chuan on the village road.

Time passed day by day

By the end of May, the wheat was almost ripe.

The villagers have been walking with renewed energy these past few days. When they greet each other, the first thing they talk about is this year's harvest. The woman by the well said that the wheat ears are growing better than last year, and Lujia Village is going to have a good year.

Lu Shouye's mood improved in those few days. He would go to the fields early every morning and come back to tell his mother that the rice ears in the southern field had recovered a lot after the irrigation. He said that the three mu of land should yield more than three shi of grain this year.

Lu Chuan studied at his seventh uncle's place, where he was studying the Thousand Character Classic. His seventh uncle had just placed the book in front of him the day before; it was thicker than the Three Character Classic, and the characters were much more difficult.

Lu Ming took it, flipped through it, frowned, and said, "When will this ever end?"

Time marches on, and in just over ten days, the wheat will be ready for harvest.

The bad weather started on May 28th.

That morning, the sky looked strange; the clouds were heavy, completely obscuring the sun. The wind was also off; it wasn't the warm, hot wind one would expect in summer, but rather carried a fishy smell.

Lu Chuan returned from his seventh uncle's place and passed by the village entrance, where he saw his sixth uncle standing at the gate of the courtyard, looking up at the sky.

When Sixth Uncle saw him approaching, his expression was more grave than ever before. Upon seeing Lu Chuan, he hurriedly said, "Go home and tell your father to tidy up the fields."

Lu Chuan didn't delay and walked quickly home against the wind.

Along the way, the villagers sprang into action. Some pulled clothes from the drying ropes, some carried firewood from the gate into their houses, and some chased the running chickens into their sheds, all with an indescribable sense of panic on their faces.

The old men who usually sat idly at the village entrance were nowhere to be seen.

The wind grew stronger and stronger, making it impossible to open one's eyes. Lu Chuan kept his head down, clutching his bag tightly, and didn't stop for the rest of the way.

As soon as Lu Chuan stepped into his own yard, he saw Lu Shouye squatting under the porch, holding a whetstone and rubbing the dulled sickle over and over again.

"Father, Sixth Uncle said the weather is not right." Lu Chuan hugged his schoolbag tightly to his chest.

Lu Shouye didn't look up, but stared at the gleaming blade, and said in a hoarse voice, "I know. There's a salty smell in the wind, and the clouds are turning green... This means a great flood is coming."

"They're not ripe yet." Mrs. Lu rushed out of the house, her eyes red and her voice trembling. "The wheat ears are still juicy when you pinch them open! Harvesting them now will mean dozens of pounds less grain per acre! Father, should we wait a little longer? What if the rain doesn't get too heavy?"

Lu Shouye stopped what he was doing and looked up at the sky. A strange bluish-purple hue on the horizon was rapidly devouring the setting sun.

Lu Chuan knew very well that in modern meteorology, this kind of cloud formation indicated severe convective weather. Once it rained, the wheat that hadn't fully ripened would lodging and sprout and rot in the field within three days. At that point, not only would they lose a few dozen kilograms of grain, but they might not even have any left over from planting.

"We can't wait any longer." Lu Chuan stepped forward, looking directly at Lu Shouye. "Father, the book says, 'Even a small harvest before it's ripe is better than nothing.' Our family is counting on these three acres of land to supply you with medicine and to save grain for Xiaoman. We can't afford to gamble with that 'what if'."

A resolute glint flashed in Lu Shouye's cloudy eyes. He stood up abruptly, swaying slightly from the sudden movement, but he grabbed a wooden pillar for support and said in a deep voice, "Chuan'er is right. We, the Lu family, cannot wait."

"Old woman, turn all the sacks out! Xiaoman, go borrow two sickles from Aunt Wang next door. Tell her we're harvesting tonight and will return them two new ones tomorrow!"

While giving instructions, Lu Shouye shoved another small sickle into Lu Chuan's hand: "Chuan'er, can you do it?"

"It can be done." Lu Chuan gripped the cold wooden handle tightly.

When the family of four left home, the village road was already in complete chaos.

Cries, shouts, and the creaking of carts along the dirt road mingled together. Some families were still hesitating about whether to start harvesting, while others had the whole family, young and old, rushing to the fields.

When we arrived at the scene, the first clap of thunder rolled across the sky.

Lu Chuan squatted down, grabbed a clump of wheat stalks with his left hand, and pulled the sickle diagonally with his right.

"laugh--"

"Cut!" Lu Shouye roared.