Poor but talented scholar

Chapter 40 The Falsehood Ends

Early morning, Lujia Village.

Lu Chuan woke up to an unprecedented commotion.

In the past, the village was quiet in the early mornings, with only the occasional crowing of roosters and the sounds of men coughing and spitting. But today, the faint chants of workers clearing land were intertwined with the distant barking of dogs.

After getting up, Lu Chuan first splashed his face with cool well water, then sat upright on the wooden stool in the main room and opened the "Duobao Pagoda Stele" in the first rays of morning light.

He not only practiced calligraphy, but also quietly recited passages from the Analects.

The youthful yet steady voice spread through the quiet courtyard, carrying a rhythm unique to scholars.

Confucius said, “Is it not pleasant to learn with a constant perseverance and application?”

Lu Shouye tiptoed out of the kitchen, clutching a freshly steamed cornbread in his hand. Listening to his son's recitation, he unconsciously straightened his back.

He didn't understand the scriptures, but he thought the voice was even better than the singing on the stage in the county town.

He glanced at the tightly closed straw curtain; his daughter was still smacking her lips in her sleep.

Lu Shouye sighed inwardly. Although his daughter was well-behaved, she was still a girl after all. If she could be like Chuan'er, even if she had only a hint of the scholar's air about her, she would be more respected when she got married.

He walked over, gently patted Lu Xiaoman awake, and said in a low voice, "Get up! Go sit in front of your brother's room and listen to him read. Those are wise sayings; just listening to them will make you smarter. Stop lying in bed all day."

Lu Chuan noticed the movement by the door, looked up slightly, and saw Xiao Man squatting on the threshold, her hands supporting her chin.

Lu Chuan put away his serious expression, and a gentle smile appeared on his lips.

He beckoned to his sister to sit down next to him.

Xiaoman skillfully sat cross-legged next to Lu Chuan's legs.

"This is Qian, this is Kun." Lu Chuan casually drew a few words on the sand table.

Although Xiaoman is lively and active, she has a strong drive to learn the characters her older brother teaches her.

She traced the characters in the sand, stroke by stroke: "Brother, I remember, last time you taught me to write the character '生' (sheng), the '生' (sheng) in '地里生药' (di li sheng yao). You said if I could write this character well, our family would have a big house to live in."

Lu Shouye was picking vegetables in the backyard when he caught a glimpse of this scene and was overjoyed.

But before long, the novelty of Xiaoman wore off, and the cravings in my stomach began to kick in.

She sniffed the aroma of sweet potatoes wafting from the kitchen, and then, as if nails had grown into her bottom, she squirmed back and forth.

"Brother, the character 'Kun' has grown legs, and it wants to eat sweet potatoes." Xiaoman said this nonsense with a straight face. Taking advantage of Lu Chuan's moment of laughter, she crouched down and darted into the kitchen.

As she ran, she called out in a clear voice, "Mom, I can write now! Give me the biggest sweet potato as a reward!"

Lu Chuan looked at the little figure fleeing in panic and shook his head helplessly.

When Lu's mother brought out the porridge, she saw that Lu Chuan was all alone at the gate. She stomped her foot in anger: "That brat! She takes advantage of me. Her brother should really hit her with a ruler."

Despite saying that, his eyes were full of smiles.

In those days of food scarcity, it was already considered very good in the village that a daughter could learn a few words from her son.

After breakfast, with plenty of time before returning to the academy, Lu Chuan unconsciously strolled to the edge of the medicinal herb field on the back hill.

Lu Dashan was leading several men to divert water when he saw Lu Chuan: "Chuan'er, look at this waterway. It's been brought over according to your drawing, and the soil is just right."

Lu Chuan carefully checked the humidity at the edge of the field and was about to say a few words of advice when he suddenly caught a glimpse of the village head, Lu Deshou, walking towards him from the other end of the village road with his hands behind his back and a serious expression on his face.

Lu Chuan's heart skipped a beat.

He hadn't forgotten Master Zhao's admonition: "A scholar should not be distracted by mundane affairs."

If the village headman catches you wandering around in the mud instead of studying early in the morning, he'll inevitably give you a long, earnest lecture about how playing with toys can ruin your life.

"Uncle, I'm going back now!" Lu Chuan made a quick decision, slipped away along the bushes on the other side of the ditch, and quickly disappeared.

Lu Deshou walked up and saw only Lu Dashan. He asked in confusion, "I think I saw Chuan'er here just now?"

Lu Dashan smiled憨厚ly: "Chuan'er just glanced at the waterway and said he still needs to go back to practice calligraphy. He ran faster than a rabbit."

Lu Deshou watched the green figure disappear behind the fence, shook his head helplessly, and said with a laugh, "That kid is as clever as a monkey, he's got a good head on his heels."

The three-day holiday passed in the blink of an eye.

The wild seeds have taken root in the soil.

On the day of his departure, Lu Chuan's mother packed six hard-boiled salted duck eggs into his bundle and put a small bag of dried sweet potatoes in his arms, instructing him: "Studying takes a lot of brainpower. Take a bite when you're hungry, don't neglect your health."

Lu Xiaoman tugged at his clothes, her eyes filled with reluctance: "Brother, when you come back, teach me to read. I want to learn to write your name."

Lu Chuan patted his younger sister's head and said gently, "Listen to your mother at home. Next time you come back, I will not only teach you to write your name, but also bring you the sweetest malt candy in the county town."

Xiaoman lowered her head heavily, waving her little hand happily: "Brother, hurry back! I also want to study hard to learn to read, so I can help you manage the accounts in the future."

Lu Shouye shouldered the heavy bundle, looked at his son, and said with pride in his eyes, "Chuan'er, let's go. Your uncle is already waiting for you on the oxcart at the village entrance."

Under the big locust tree at the village entrance, the oxcart had been waiting for a long time in the morning light.

"Chuan'er, sit tight." Uncle Liu cracked his whip, and the old ox slowly started to move.

Lu Chuan sat at the back of the car, watching the scenery on both sides of the road rush past, but his mind was never idle.

"Uncle," Lu Chuan suddenly spoke up, "Although the seeds from that rocky beach are tough, they are most vulnerable to flooding in the first month. If there is a downpour, we must make sure Uncle Da Shan plugs the gap on the west side, otherwise the water will flow back in, the seeds will rot, and all our efforts this month will be wasted."

Lu Deshou was taken aback for a moment, then chuckled and said, "You little rascal, you're more cunning than a sieve. Don't worry, your Uncle Shan now values ​​that slope more than his ancestral graves; he even went to count the pits last night with a lantern."

Lu Chuan smiled and said nothing more.

That afternoon, the two lacquered red gates of the Qingyang County School finally came into view.

Lu Shouye stopped at the threshold, patted the mud off his trousers, handed the bundle to Lu Chuan, and said earnestly, "Chuan'er, Dad is going back. Don't worry about the fields."

"Father, take care."

The moment you step into the academy, you are greeted by the faint scent of ink and the orderly recitation of students.

Lu Chuan, carrying his bundle, did not return to his dormitory immediately, but went straight to Master Zhao's inner study.

"Student Lu Chuan, returning from his monthly leave, requests an audience with the Master."

Inside the inner academy, incense burner was filled with calming cypress incense.

Master Zhao sat upright in his armchair, holding a slightly yellowed copy of the "Shuowen Jiezi" in his hand, deep in thought with his eyes closed.

Hearing the clear sound outside the door, he slowly opened his eyes, his gaze softening: "It's Chuan'er, come in."