Poor but talented scholar

Chapter 17 Master Zhao

That year, Lujia Village endured the end of the year amidst a series of oppressive silences.

There was no trace of wild vegetables in the fields, and even the bark of the withered trees had been scraped off in several layers.

The villagers began digging up the roots of a highly poisonous plant called "Dead Man's Head." This plant had to be soaked in running water and pounded for seven days and seven nights to remove the toxins and grind it into a gray powder that tasted like chewing wax.

If you don't know your limits, the whole family will end up lying down in a neat row.

The children searched the frozen river for dead fish and shrimp that had frozen to death in the ice, as these were rare sources of protein.

Even more extreme, the branch of the family of the eldest uncle, Lu Youcai, began to try crushing a specific type of Guanyin clay, which has a rough texture but is non-toxic, and mixing it with a small amount of acorn powder to cook porridge.

Lu Shouye's health has improved somewhat, and he goes out before dawn every day, braving the cold wind, to the wild pond at the west end of the village.

He smashed the thin ice with a stone and stepped into the thigh-deep frozen mud, using his hands to carefully dig out the small, shriveled wild lotus roots from the bottom of the mud.

Every time he came back, his trouser legs were frozen stiff, like two icicles.

After digging up the lotus root, Lu's mother washed it, chopped it into small pieces, and cooked it into porridge with a little bit of old rice.

Later, when even the old rice ran out, Lu's mother went to peel the inner bark of the elm tree at the edge of the village, dried it, ground it into powder, and mixed it into wild vegetables to cook.

On such days, Lu Chuan would go to his seventh uncle's courtyard every day at Chenshi (7-9 AM) without fail.

He practiced calligraphy every day with a tree branch. His hands were frostbitten and cracked, but he never frowned. He simply memorized the Three Character Classic, the Hundred Family Surnames, and the Thousand Character Classic word by word. Later, he began to study the Great Learning with his seventh uncle.

On the fifteenth day of the first lunar month, instead of letting him go back as usual, Uncle Qi called him into the main room.

The old man took an unsigned envelope from the drawer and pushed it in front of Lu Chuan.

"I'm just a pedantic old man who didn't even pass the provincial examination. You've drained all the knowledge I have in my head in the last six months."

Uncle Qi looked at him with a rare complexity in his eyes, "You have a good memory and a calm mind. It's a pity to keep you in this village."

"This is a letter to Master Zhao, the teacher at the town's private school." Uncle Qi tapped his withered fingers on the table. "He was my classmate in his early years, and his knowledge is far deeper than mine."

Lu Chuan stood up, took a step back, and gave his seventh uncle a proper bow before accepting the letter with both hands.

The next day was the sixteenth day of the first lunar month.

Lu Chuan changed into a crisp, clean blue cotton robe.

This robe was the only decent garment Lu Shoutian wore when he was young. It was slightly oversized on Lu Chuan, but it added a touch of composure to his calm face.

Lu Shoutian and his mother silently loaded their luggage onto the oxcart. The luggage was pitifully small: two thin quilts and two sets of patched but clean clothes.

The blue cloth bundle, hastily made overnight, was stuffed with a dozen or so hard flatbreads.

"Chuan'er, when you get to the Li family school in town, don't neglect your health," Chen said, her voice nasal.

Lu Xiaoman clung to Lu Chuan's clothes, her nose red from the cold, wanting to cry but not daring to make a sound.

Lu Chuan squatted down, looked into his younger sister's bright and intelligent eyes, and gently tucked her tattered little jacket into her clothes.

"Xiaoman, listen to your parents at home. I'll make sure you get to eat white rice."

"Chuan'er, are you done yet?" Uncle Liu called out from the courtyard.

Lu Chuan went out the door. Lu Xiaoman followed, rubbing her eyes, and tugged at Lu Chuan's sleeve: "Brother, when are you coming back from town?"

"Come back whenever you have a day off." Lu Chuan patted her head. "Be good at home, and don't forget to practice the words I taught you."

Lu Xiaoman nodded vigorously.

Lu Shouye put the luggage and dry food on the car, then took the bundle from his mother's hand, carefully placed it at the very back, and weighed it down with a tattered quilt before turning to look at Lu Chuan.

"Let's go."

Lu Chuan stepped onto the carriage by standing on the carriage shaft.

Lu Chuan turned around and saw his mother and Lu Xiaoman still standing at the gate of the courtyard. The two figures, one big and one small, looked particularly frail.

The car left the village and headed towards the town.

The town was more than ten miles from the village, and the oxcart moved very slowly. Lu Shouye sat in front driving the cart, while Lu Chuan sat in the back, holding Uncle Qi's letter in his arms.

After traveling for more than an hour, as dawn broke, the oxcart finally entered the town.

The town was much more lively than the village. Although it was just after the New Year, there were already vendors selling hot soup dumplings on the street, with white steam rising up.

After passing through the bustling market and turning into a cobblestone alley, the surroundings suddenly became quiet.

At the end of the alley is a courtyard with blue bricks and black tiles. An old pine tree grows in front of the door, and a wooden plaque hangs above the door—Qingyang Academy.

Lu Shouye parked the oxcart at the alley entrance, rubbed his frozen hands, patted the dust off his clothes, and then reached out to straighten Lu Chuan's collar.

He looked at his son, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he only managed to utter one sentence: "When you see the teacher later, behave yourself."

"Father, I know."

The father and son walked to the door, and Lu Shouye took a deep breath and gently knocked on the brass ring.

An old servant wearing a gray cloth jacket opened the door.

Lu Shouye quickly cupped his hands, his back bent low, his tone respectful to the point of being somewhat restrained: "Old man, we are from Lu Family Village, and we have brought our children to pay our respects to Master Zhao."

The old servant glanced at them, his gaze lingering on Lu Shouye's mud-stained old shoes and Lu Chuan's faded, ill-fitting cotton coat. He said nothing and stepped aside to make way for them.

"Wait in the courtyard, I'll go and announce your arrival."

Lu Chuan heard the faint sound of children reading aloud coming from the main room ahead.

Lu Shouye stood in the courtyard, barely daring to breathe. He clutched the well-dressed blue cloth bundle tightly in both hands, his rough fingers turning white from the force.

Not long after, the curtain of the main room was lifted, and a thin scholar of about fifty years old walked out.

He was dressed in a blue robe, had a short beard, and clear eyes, exuding an air of quiet authority cultivated from years of reading.

This is Master Zhao.

Lu Shouye quickly pulled Lu Chuan forward and bowed deeply: "Lu Shouye from Lu Family Village, with my son Lu Chuan, pays respects to the Master."

Master Zhao's gaze swept over Lu Shouye, finally landing on Lu Chuan, and he nodded slightly.

"Was it recommended by Lu Dewen?"

"Yes." Lu Chuan stepped forward and handed over the letter from his seventh uncle with both hands.

Master Zhao opened the letter and quickly scanned it. After reading it, his expression didn't change much. He folded the letter and put it into his sleeve.

"My brother Devon said in his letter that you have an excellent memory and a calm temperament."

"My school is mostly filled with the sons of merchants and wealthy families from town. For the children of farmers to stay, there's a test. What books have you studied before?"

Lu Chuan lowered his head and lowered his eyes, his voice neither humble nor arrogant: "Reporting to Master, I was in the village, studying the Three Character Classic, the Hundred Family Surnames, and the Thousand Character Classic with my seventh uncle, and recently I just finished memorizing the Great Learning."