Chapter 9: The Privileges of Scholars—Undeniable and Irrefutable

As for Shen Shi, it wasn’t that his family insisted on calling him a “wild man,” but after spending a long stretch in prison and wrestling with wolves, dressed in nothing but rags, he truly looked the part. No matter how you looked at him, he resembled a wild man.

For wild men who refused to pay taxes according to the regulations, the attitude of every dynasty has always been the same—catch them. As long as you caught one, not only would you be blameless, you’d be rewarded.

“Hold on, let’s approach normally. Don’t startle him. If he runs, we’ll never catch him in these mountains,” the young scholar instructed.

“Yes, sir. We’ll just say we’re here to buy his wolf,” the servants responded.

They knew the routine well.

“Hey, you there, my master wants to buy your wolf. Come here,” one of the men said, as they spread out to encircle the campfire, trying to lure Shen Shi closer.

This tactic seemed eerily similar to how wolves hunted.

Shen Shi was taken aback—not because he was surprised there were people deep in the mountains; after all, Little Gulu had alerted him ahead of time. What startled him was their accent. It wasn’t the official tongue, but a southern dialect.

To be honest, Shen Shi had always been a “subtitle person.” Fortunately, his soul had transmigrated, and he inherited the original Shen Shi’s knowledge; otherwise, he might not have understood what they were saying.

“How much are you offering? My wolf is whole. If it’s less than twenty strings, I won’t sell,” Shen Shi replied loudly, using the Min-Yue dialect, the official language of that era.

He carefully shielded the wolf carcass in front of him, declaring his ownership.

Little Gulu was even more obvious—one paw pressed down on the wolf, baring its tiny dog teeth at the men threatening to “steal” its prize.

Of course, it was far too small; its intimidation drew no attention.

“Twenty strings?” The servant glanced at his young master. Wolves were fierce beasts, but typically worth ten strings; twenty was a fool’s price.

The young scholar said nothing; he didn’t need to. They were the Song Dynasty’s slave-catching squad—once they apprehended the man, would he even have a single coin to his name?

“We’ll need to see your wolf first,” the servant continued, not giving Shen Shi any time to think. The Song Dynasty was no longer newly established; wild men who refused to pay taxes had been hunted for a hundred years. Even the dullest had learned to be cautious, and lone wild men were rare.

Shen Shi said, “Alright! Wait here.”

If someone wanted to pay a fool’s price, Shen Shi was happy to oblige. The reason he asked them to wait was that the true owner of the wolf carcass was Little Gulu, and Shen Shi needed its opinion.

Little Gulu said, “I want roasted meat,” raising its little paw.

Shen Shi replied, “If we sell it, we can buy spices and make even tastier roasted meat.”

Little Gulu considered the cold wolf carcass, then glanced at the steaming roasted meat, and compromised. Shen Shi obtained the wolf.

As Shen Shi bent to collect the wolf carcass, a book fell from his chest—a gift from the old man in prison, which he’d tucked away during the fight with the wolf.

Seeing the book, the young scholar halted his men from closing in and asked, “Are you a scholar?”

“Shameful! I have tried many times but never succeeded,” Shen Shi replied.

Ah—now they couldn’t apprehend him.

According to Song law, capturing wild men was welcomed by the court, but to enslave a scholar? Ha… the entire literati class would show you why flowers are so red.

“Haha, so you’re a scholar? You seem young—how can you say you’ve tried for years without success?”

The young scholar laughed heartily, shifting from slave-catcher to newfound companion. In Song, where the literati shared rule with the emperor, what else could he do?

He even addressed him as “brother.”

“How old are you, brother?”

“Fifteen, full years.”

Shen Shi looked at the twenty-something youth and quickly reported his age. Being called “brother” by someone in their twenties when he was only fifteen—he felt a bit embarrassed.

“What? Fifteen?” the other exclaimed.

“Yes.”

His reaction was so exaggerated that Shen Shi wondered: Does my body really look so old?

“Haha… Just fifteen, and you claim years of failure? I, your elder brother, am twenty-six and have yet to pass the scholar exam—isn’t that more of a long failure?”

In the Song, “scholar” referred to those who hadn’t earned any official title yet. Famous figures like Wang Lun, the White-Clad Scholar, were among them.

Of course, failing to pass the exam at over twenty wasn’t much to boast about. If there was any pride to be had, it was that he hadn’t yet turned to banditry—which, indeed, was worth a bit of pride.

Now that both were scholars, things could be settled easily.

A wolf for twenty strings was a steep price, but since both were scholars—and scholars were known for their generosity—it was settled.

However, one string was officially a thousand cash; twenty strings meant twenty thousand copper coins. That was far too heavy; nobody traveled with that much money. It was impossible to carry such a sum.

So, the wolf was exchanged, carried by the scholar’s strong men. The book remained with Shen Shi, and off they went…

The group marched grandly toward the scholar’s manor. Little Gulu, meanwhile, kept turning back, reluctant to leave Shen Shi’s roasting site—after all, it marked the first delicious meal of its life.

Still, its nostalgia was brief. Suddenly, its little eyes gazed at Shen Shi with even greater fervor.

One side was just a place for roasted meat; the other was the person who could roast it. Its head wasn’t large, but it was clever. Though it was reluctant, it never considered leaving Shen Shi.

…

Not far down the mountain was a manor marked with the characters “Gongsun.”

Shen Shi, bold as ever, didn’t even know the family’s name, yet accompanied them to collect payment—fearless as ever…

Well, he really wasn’t afraid. In the twenty-first century, he was a king of street fights. Now, with double the strength, he certainly wasn’t intimidated by a rural tycoon.

If anyone dared make trouble, Shen Shi would not be polite.

But the others made no trouble, instead treating Shen Shi with exceptional courtesy. He truly experienced the “proprietor’s hospitality” afforded to Song scholars.

Upon entering the Gongsun manor, he was immediately welcomed with orders for hot water to bathe and new clothes to be prepared.

Shen Shi felt at home—delighted.

Meanwhile, young master Gongsun, after settling Shen Shi in, went to pay respects to his parents. It was custom and etiquette.

“Father, your child has befriended a talented young man and brought him home.”

He did not hide Shen Shi’s story, but told his father directly.

“Excellent!” The Gongsun manor master, not much older himself, was delighted that his son had brought a scholar into the manor, rather than displeased.