Chapter Thirty-Two: The Road Ahead

The next day, Su Lu finally didn’t have to rise so early. Yet, he still awoke precisely at the crow of the rooster. Driven by the force of habit, Su Lu did not open his eyes immediately, but instead silently retraced the events since his arrival here...

From the initial confusion and helplessness, feeling out of place, to later swimming effortlessly with the tide, thoroughly blending into the era; from his resolve to alter his fate through study, to deploying every ounce of effort, sprinting a hundred days and finally crossing the finish line by a hair’s breadth... Day by day, scene by scene, the memories flickered before his eyes like a lantern show.

First and foremost, he was fortunate—his incomparable father and elder brother had given him their greatest support. Yet he was also right: these hundred days had proven that his decision was not mistaken—here and now, reading books was indeed the correct path for him to change his destiny!

Moreover, the results had shown that his study methods were like a dimensional strike, overwhelming the competition. Coupled with a good mind inherited from his parents and the maturity of one who had lived two lives, he was able to traverse in three months what others took six years to achieve.

Though he knew nothing of the world outside, at least within these county borders, among his peers, he still held a certain advantage.

This made his life goal of “passing the scholar’s exam and eating finer grain” finally seem within reach!

But he could not afford to relax—he was, after all, the last one admitted to the academy.

Those ahead of him were all clever and well-grounded; mere memorization would never let him surpass them. He needed pre-term guidance from his father and brother to help close the gap.

Given that his father had never attended Taiping Academy, his elder brother—the outstanding recent graduate—was more authoritative in this matter.

However, it seemed his luck had run out, at least for now...

At breakfast, his elder brother suddenly announced to the family, “The county exam is in February next year, so I won’t be spending New Year at home this year.”

The elders seemed to know already; they ate and drank as usual, unmoved. Only Su Lu was surprised and asked, “So where will you spend New Year, brother?”

“In Luzhou!” His brother declared with pride, “Every year before the county exam, our academy selects five outstanding graduates to attend lectures at the Wen Zhan Hall of Heshan Academy for a month!”

“Wen Zhan Hall?” Su Lu’s heart stirred; such a name, so heroic, could only belong to a place of scholarly guidance.

“That’s right—Heshan Academy is the most renowned in Shu, presided over by a retired imperial scholar. Wen Zhan Hall is their specialized venue for pre-exam guidance for the best students. It’s far superior to ordinary literary meetings.”

“Incredible!” Su Tai applauded.

“Of course, if it were only for the county exam, there’d be no need for such a grand affair,” Su Man continued with pride, “Actually, I’m aiming for the provincial exam in April!”

“And if you pass the provincial exam?” Su Lu asked.

“In June or July, a grand master will oversee the academy exam. If you pass, you become an official student.”

“And this year is a major competitive year—if you manage to pass the scholar exam in June or July, you can catch the August selection in Chengdu by the grand master. If admitted, you go straight to the rural exam.” He couldn’t help but dream aloud:

“Then comes the metropolitan exam in February next year, and the palace exam in March! So if someone is strong and lucky enough, it’s possible to go from pupil to imperial scholar within a single year!”

...

But in truth, from “I’m aiming for the provincial exam in April!” onward, everything was just Chun Brother’s inner monologue.

In his imagination, he already wore red and gold, parading through the imperial streets, honored by the temple of literary sages, feasting at the Qionglin Banquet.

A veritable climax in his mind!

Yet none of this inner excitement showed on his face; Chun Brother remained as calm and cool as autumn moon over mountain passes, as if nothing in this world could move him.

So when Su Lu asked, “And if you pass the provincial exam?” Chun Brother’s real answer was, “The provincial exam is not so easily passed; there’s a lot of intricacies, but you wouldn’t understand.”

---

“Oh.” Su Lu, nearly trained by Chun Brother, nodded and fell silent.

---

After breakfast, the three brothers went downstairs together, weaving through long alleys toward the wooden bridge by the riverbank.

Usually, when out with their eldest brother, Su Lu and his second brother faded into the background. But today, he clearly noticed more people greeting him...

“Hey, Chun Brother, when you have time, come knock some sense into your sixteenth brother.”

“Chun Brother, bring your nephew home for New Year, teach him how to be ambitious, eh?”

“Chun Brother, did you eat some clever fruit? Did you dig it up on Centipede Ridge?”

...Such questions came again and again, vexing Su Lu, who found being a background character much preferable.

Su Man, meanwhile, was delighted—finally someone else was drawing the attention. His aloof demeanor had largely been forced upon him by the endless pestering of distant relatives.

He encouraged Su Lu, “You must not be complacent; after entering the academy, strive to be the best, and remain a star in the eyes of the neighbors.”

“I’m a beacon now, am I? Who cares how they see me?” Su Lu replied, half amused, half exasperated. “This outing has scared me so much I won’t dare go out for New Year.”

“Not going out is fine; classes start after the fifteenth. You must diligently review, not slack for a single day. Remember your ranking,” Su Man spoke with the seriousness of a strict homeroom teacher.

“Yes.” Su Lu nodded, then quickly asked, “But what should I study? Should I learn composition from Father?”

“No.” ‘Mr. Su’ shook his head firmly. “Like writing, if your first stroke is crooked, it’s hard to fix later.”

“Oh.” Su Lu understood—his brother advised him not to learn composition from their father. Was their father’s skill so lacking?

“Don’t misunderstand. Second Uncle has been immersed in this field for over twenty years; his literary prowess is deep indeed,” Su Man cleared his throat and explained,

“But the times are no longer as they were twenty years ago. Now, the seven literary leaders—Li Mengyang, Xu Zhenqing, and others—are spearheading a revival movement, insisting ‘prose must follow Qin and Han, poetry must follow the flourishing Tang.’”

Chun Brother sighed softly and went on, “The seven literary leaders and their followers are in their prime; all the grand masters in the provinces and the chief examiners at autumn exams are among them. Their impact on the writing of examination essays is immense.”

“I see,” Su Lu realized—so the syllabus had changed, but their father was still stuck in the previous era.

“Is what the academy teaches the latest style?” he asked.

“Rest assured—Taiping Academy is a sub-academy of Heshan Academy,” Su Man replied with pride.

“Is Heshan Academy that prestigious?” Su Tai asked quietly, echoing Su Lu’s own curiosity.

“You don’t even know Heshan Academy? How ignorant!” Chun Brother looked incredulous as he explained for his two younger brothers:

“Heshan Academy was founded by the great Neo-Confucian scholar of the Southern Song, Master Heshan Wei Liaoweng. In his hometown of Pujiang, as well as his official postings in Jingzhou, Luzhou, and Suzhou, he established four Heshan Academies.”

Su Man concluded, “The four academies are branches of the same tree, sharing resources and insights. What could they not know?”

“Oh, oh.” Su Lu nodded, admiringly. “It’s incredible, brother, that you can go there to study further.”

“This isn’t really advanced study—just a pre-exam crash course,” Su Man shook his head, envious. “But starting with your cohort, those who stay among the top ranks for three years can truly go to Heshan Academy for advanced study.”

He looked at Su Lu with envy, “This was secured for you by the academy master; treasure the opportunity.”

“Yes.” Su Lu nodded, then asked, “So what should I do during New Year?”

“Continue memorizing and practicing calligraphy.” His brother said gravely, “The seven leaders reject prose since Tang and Song, but it’s not just ‘ornamental parallel prose’ they abhor; they also oppose the Neo-Confucian prose where ‘reason outweighs style.’”

---

“What style do they favor?” Su Lu asked.

“They advocate the Qin and Han style of ‘rules yet no rules’—there’s an underlying order, but no rigid format,” his brother explained. “That’s why I urge you to keep memorizing the Four Books, for their style is exactly what the reformers pursue. If you have extra energy, try reading Mozi and Han Feizi, though you probably won’t find them here.”

“Yes.” Su Lu nodded. In Erlang Beach, books were truly scarce.

“But I have them,” Su Man wheezed.

“Brother...” Su Lu sighed helplessly. Would it kill him to speak plainly?

“The academy’s library is rich; students can borrow books. I copied some by hand during my spare time. I’ll bring them back for you—just make do with what you get,” Su Man continued.

“Great, thank you, brother...” Su Lu’s face lit up with joy. Sigh, never mind plain speech—as long as things get done.

---

As they spoke, the three brothers arrived at the riverbank wharf.

They had come to meet their aunt.

At breakfast, Su Lu heard his aunt was returning for New Year and was rather surprised. He remembered his uncle married on the twentieth of the twelfth lunar month and left for the county on the twenty-second. Today was only the seventeenth—less than a month. What was the point of all this back-and-forth?

But the affairs of elders were not his concern; it just meant his days of quiet were gone again...

They waited a good while before finally seeing a “crooked stern boat” slowly making its way upstream. Two boatmen stood at bow and stern, rowing together and steering toward the jetty.

It was still the Cheng family’s distillery boat, which visited Erlang Beach once a month. Uncle rode this boat to send Aunt home for New Year.

Although Uncle was now the son-in-law of the Cheng family, and couldn’t be thrown off the boat, the relationship between the families hadn’t eased, and no one was likely to treat him kindly. Uncle’s greatest asset was his thick skin, so he simply didn’t care.

As for Aunt, she was even more impervious—she could provoke others, but no one could get under her skin... So uncle and aunt shamelessly hitched a ride home.

“Chun Brother, Chun Brother!” As soon as she saw her son, Aunt saw no one else, waving vigorously from the bow.

There were many Cheng men waiting on the dock to unload the boat; hearing her, they turned and snickered behind their hands.

Su Lu was mortified, wanting to disappear into the earth. Su Man, however, showed no embarrassment, calmly waving back at his mother.

When the crooked stern boat moored and the gangplank was lowered, uncle and aunt carried their bundles ashore.

“Aunt, uncle.” Su Lu and his brother greeted them and took their luggage.

Uncle freed his hands, pulled a thick red envelope from his sleeve, and handed it to the boat captain, saying, “We’ll need your help again tomorrow, sir.”

After unloading, the crooked stern boat would return to the county tomorrow with the last batch of goods for the year. It wouldn’t return again until spring next year...

“Alright, alright.” The boat captain’s expression softened at the sight of the red envelope.

Once his work was done, he opened the envelope and saw it contained a stack of paper notes. He burst out cursing, “Miserly freeloader, who gives paper notes as tips?!”

The Great Ming paper notes had been depreciating since the end of the Hongwu era, losing value for a hundred years. Now a note worth one string of coins could only be exchanged for a single copper; a stack looked impressive but was actually worth only ten or so coins, less than the fare for a passenger!

“Damn it, if he weren’t the boss’s son-in-law, I’d make him eat a bowl of wonton noodles!” the boat captain spat angrily. He’d sailed half his life, seen all sorts, but never such a shameless penny-pincher...

ps. Wishing everyone a pleasant weekend. This time the monk is doing six thousand characters a day, much more than before, so I think it’s time to ask for monthly tickets! End of the month—please vote!!