Poor but talented scholar

Chapter 23 Farming and Reading

That night, the atmosphere in the dormitory was very oppressive.

The laughter of the past had disappeared. Zhang Fugui and Wang Lang huddled under the covers, even turning over cautiously.

Li Ji lay on the innermost side, biting the corner of the blanket. His eyes, as he looked at Lu Chuan, held not only hatred but also a deep-seated fear.

He realized that this person was truly ruthless.

The school bell rang the next morning.

As usual, Lu Chuan was the first to step into Class C's dormitory.

He didn't look at anyone and walked straight to the corner.

Not long after, Li Ji and the other two finally came in, looking rather dawdling.

Li Ji walked with a stiff gait and his face was ashen.

Just as Li Ji passed by Lu Chuan, Lu Chuan suddenly stopped writing, without even looking up, and asked, "Brother Li, did you sleep well last night?"

Li Ji slipped and nearly fell in front of everyone.

"What...what do you want to do?" Li Ji's voice was hoarse, and he subconsciously took a step back.

Lu Chuan calmly took out a nearly worn-out pen from his book bag and said, "My pen is worn out. I wonder if Brother Li has any extra income that I could borrow to tide me over?"

Sitting to the side, Zhang Fugui listened with a pounding heart.

This isn't borrowing a pen; it's blatant extortion.

Li Ji gritted his teeth. If he refused, who knew what this madman would do in the hallway after class?

If I agree, I'll have completely lost face.

"Give it to him!" Li Ji growled, as if he were squeezing it out from between his teeth.

Wang Lang quickly pulled a brand-new purple-tipped brush from his writing bag and handed it to Lu Chuan on the table with trembling hands.

This was a valuable sum, worth at least two hundred coins. Under normal circumstances, Wang Lang would never have let anyone else touch it.

Lu Chuan took the pen, his fingertips gliding over the smooth handle, and nodded politely: "Thank you. As a return gift, I've completely forgotten about what happened in the corridor yesterday."

These words brought a sigh of relief to Li Ji and the other two, but also made them feel an unprecedented sense of humiliation.

After the morning class began, Teacher Li quickly noticed something unusual in the class.

The once arrogant "gang of three" were unusually quiet today, especially Li Ji, whose eyes darted away while reciting and who huddled behind his desk.

Meanwhile, Lu Chuan was writing with flowing strokes on that piece of scrap paper.

Master Zhao walked up behind Lu Chuan and looked at the characters gradually taking shape on the paper. A look of surprise appeared on his originally serious face.

"Lu Chuan, your handwriting..." Master Zhao stopped, picked up the piece Lu Chuan had just finished writing, and said, "It's so much better now?"

Lu Chuan rose and bowed his head in greeting: "Reporting to Master, yesterday I had a sudden insight and grasped some of the principles of 'severance followed by continuation'."

"When you have a broad mind, your writing will naturally become more steady."

Master Zhao stroked his beard and couldn't help but sigh, "The essence of epigraphy lies in self-enlightenment. Your progress is truly remarkable."

Master Zhao turned to look at Li Ji, patting the ruler in his palm: "Li Ji, look at Lu Chuan, he comes from a poor family but still strives for self-improvement."

"You seem restless today; could it be that you've been preoccupied with unorthodox methods? Go, copy the 'Rules of Learning' fifty times and hand them in to me tomorrow!"

Li Jiru was struck dumb. He looked at the teacher's approving gaze towards Lu Chuan, and a surge of anger welled up in his throat. He almost fainted on the spot.

In the school cafeteria after school.

Lu Chuan was still sitting in that secluded corner, with the same bowl of brown rice and dried pickled vegetables in front of him.

Zhang Fugui, holding a bowl, originally intended to move closer to Li Ji, but when he passed Lu Chuan, his steps unconsciously faltered.

His mind was filled with the horrible image of Li Ji collapsing and vomiting yesterday. Although he was fat, he was not lacking in common sense.

"Brother Lu... Brother Lu." Zhang Fugui hunched over, lowered his voice, and forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. "Is that pen easy to use?"

"I also have a piece of Xuanzhou ink that I brought from home. Although it's not top-grade, it's much better than that ash water."

Lu Chuan swallowed a mouthful of coarse rice, turned his head, and glanced at Zhang Fugui.

"Brother Zhang, you're too kind." Lu Chuan's voice was calm, even gentle. "The brush was borrowed from Brother Li, as for the ink, there's no rush."

"It's just that I have a bad memory and am prone to forgetting things. If Brother Zhang is willing to take care of me, I'm afraid I'll have to trouble you more with my job of cleaning the schoolhouse in the future."

Zhang Fugui was stunned. Cleaning the school dormitory? That was the dirtiest and most tiring job.

But when he looked into Lu Chuan's calm eyes, his fleshy folds trembled, and he quickly agreed, "Of course! Of course."

"Brother Lu studies hard, so I'll take care of those chores for him without hesitation!"

Wang Lang, who was sitting not far away, saw this scene, covered half of his face with his folding fan, and his eyes darted around.

During the afternoon calligraphy class, Lu Chuan still appeared as invisible as ever.

Li Ji is copying the "Rules of Learning".

Fifty repetitions would be nothing short of torture for a rich young master who spent his days only engaging in cockfighting and dog racing.

His right hand was weak and sore, and every time he wrote a character, a dull pain would throb in his chest.

The bell rang, and Lu Chuan packed his schoolbag.

He walked out of the school building and found Liu Zhe waiting for him under the old locust tree.

"Brother Lu, you...you're amazing!" Liu Zhe leaned in, his eyes full of admiration. "That kid Li Ji was like a mouse seeing a cat today, he didn't dare to utter a sound. What method did you use on him?"

Lu Chuan smiled faintly and patted his sleeve: "It's nothing."

Liu Zhe couldn't understand, but he knew Lu Chuan was someone not to be trifled with. He took out a booklet tied with a thin string from his pocket and handed it to Lu Chuan.

"What is this?"

"Hey, I smuggled these back from Class B," Liu Zhe said in a low voice. "They're a few model essays from last year's county-level preliminary examination. My dad spent a fortune to get them."

"I figured your brain would be useful after reading this."

Meanwhile, at the Li family's house in town.

Li Ji's father, the head constable, was listening to the steward's report with a frown.

"You mean, my stepson was bullied by a poor country boy at the school?" Officer Li sneered, slamming his teacup down on the table. "The good-for-nothing has disgraced the Li family."

"Go, send someone to find out what Lu Luchuan's background is."

"If a peasant doesn't have some backing, would he dare to pluck the tiger's hair from its mouth?" Constable Li's eyes were gloomy. Having worked in the county government for many years, he knew the principle that "there must be something fishy about things that are not normal."

The steward meekly withdrew, while Officer Li remained seated in the main seat.

He, a man who had worked his way up in the government offices, was not afraid of those reckless brutes, but he was most afraid of scholars with bad intentions.

Meanwhile, Lu Chuan had already returned to his dormitory.

He ignored the wash water Zhang Fugui offered him and instead opened the book of model essays that Liu Zhe had given him.

His fingertips traced the rough corner of the paper as he carefully considered what he had learned during this period of study.