Poor but talented scholar

Chapter 50 Offering

The handwriting is no longer the immature style of a child, but exudes a strong and resolute spirit.

Although the onlookers were illiterate, they could feel the vibrant atmosphere and exclaimed, "No wonder he's number one! His calligraphy is so beautiful; it makes you feel good just looking at it!"

Steward Sun's eyes lit up as he looked at it, and he exclaimed repeatedly, "What a magnificent 'Universe of Heaven and Earth'! This is exactly what the master has been longing for!"

As he spoke, he pulled a heavy red envelope from his pocket.

Lu Chuan reached out and blocked the money, only taking out a dozen or so copper coins, and said gently, "Manager Sun, you're too kind. This ink belongs to Mr. Zhou, and the paper also belongs to him. I'm just borrowing your light to write a few words."

"This money is for the younger generation to buy a few sheets of red paper; the rest should rightfully belong to the old gentleman."

Upon hearing this, the old scholar's tense expression instantly softened, and he sighed deeply: "At such a young age, not only is his literary talent outstanding, but he also possesses such magnanimity and a heart free from greed. I am truly impressed."

Seeing that Lu Chuan refused to charge more money, Manager Sun respected him even more and insisted on taking Lu Chuan to the pen and ink shop next door.

"Young Master Lu, please accept these two reams of gold-flecked red paper and this ingot of aged ink. My young master specifically instructed me to give him his regards if we meet at the market."

"This small gift is a token of my appreciation for your writing at the start of the new year!"

Lu Dehuang and Lu Shouye watched in stunned silence.

Their eyes darted back and forth between the red papers and the ink. Lu Shouye subconsciously wiped his trouser seam, chuckled foolishly, and remained silent for a long while.

He was a farmer who only knew how to use brute force. In the village, people usually judged who was the strongest and who had the most grain.

But now he truly understands how precious scholars are.

"Shouye, don't just stand there, help Chuan'er pack up his things." Lu Dehuang, having seen some of the world, was the first to react. He cupped his hands in thanks to Steward Sun, "Steward Sun, your kindness is appreciated. Our Lu Family Village will remember this."

Manager Sun saw the three off with a beaming smile, and before leaving, he shouted to the departing oxcart, "Young Master Lu, after the New Year, when school starts, my young master will be waiting to ask you for guidance on the Four Books."

The oxcart moved slowly in the afterglow of the setting sun, the sound of its wheels rolling over the ice particularly crisp.

Lu Chuan sat on the haystack, holding the heavy red paper in his arms, with the exquisite ink stick beside him.

He could feel his father and sixth uncle's gazes drifting over from time to time.

"Chuan'er, that steward just now... called you 'Young Master'?" Lu Shouye asked in a low voice after holding back for a long time.

In his view, that was a title only the sons of wealthy families in the city deserved.

Lu Chuan chuckled softly: "Father, that's just them being polite. If you study well, you'll naturally earn some respect outside."

"Is that a matter of respect?" Lu Dehuang chimed in, his pipe clanging against the cart shaft, his tone brimming with undisguised pride. "Look at this business, a stick of ink and two reams of paper, if you bought them properly in a shop, would cost at least a hundred or so coins."

"Chuan'er only wrote a few words, and people eagerly brought them over."

Lu Chuan observed the reactions of his two elders, but remained clear-headed.

This kind of showing off of literary skills is ultimately just a minor pursuit.

"Sixth Uncle, Father," Lu Chuan said solemnly, "Although the things Steward Sun sent are valuable, it's only because of the Master. We still have to find a way to buy the books for the new year ourselves."

Upon hearing this, Lu Dehuang's previously high spirits subsided somewhat.

He touched the crumpled book list in his arms and said in a deep voice, "Chuan'er is right. After we return to the village, we'll catch fish, sell duck eggs, and with this year's profits from the medicinal herb field, we should be able to scrape together those two taels of silver."

When we returned to Liutang Village, it was getting late, but the village entrance was still brightly lit.

Hearing that Lu Chuan had brought back a large quantity of red paper and fine ink from the city, the villagers had been waiting for a long time.

In the eyes of farmers, putting up a pair of red couplets for the New Year is a big deal.

Lu Dehuang got off the car and waved his hand decisively: "Everyone, don't push. Chuan'er said he's buying all the Spring Festival couplets for every household in our village this year, and he won't charge a penny. It's just to thank everyone for taking care of him during his studies this year!"

This caused an uproar in the village.

Lu Chuan washed his hands and carefully ground the ink on the inkstone.

The scent of ink instantly filled the air, carrying a faint fragrance.

The inscription, written for the village chief's house, is powerful and majestic: "The aroma of medicine travels for miles, and his virtuous reputation protects the village." The horizontal scroll reads: "Spring fills Lumen."

The poem written for Uncle Lu, the farmer in his family, is simple yet powerful: "May the five grains be plentiful and spring be in full bloom, and may you enjoy a lifetime of peace and good fortune." The horizontal scroll reads: "May you have abundance every year."

For each couplet, Lu Chuan carefully considered the wording based on the specific circumstances of each family.

His calligraphy no longer deliberately pursues elegance, but rather integrates into this kind of folk customs.

With each stroke of the pen, sheets of red paper became treasured keepsakes for the villagers.

"Look at this, the character is different, the hook looks like it has thorns."

"That's right. I heard that Chuan'er changed a word in the city, and the head steward of the city gave him two bundles of gold paper."

Although the villagers didn't accept money, no one was willing to take it for free.

Before long, the Lu family's courtyard was filled with all sorts of New Year's goods: one family gave a basket of bright red duck eggs, another brought a bag of their own dried bamboo shoots, and someone even took out a few warm sweet potatoes from their pocket and stuffed them into Lu Chuan's hands.

Lu Chuan had been busy all day, and although his wrists were a little sore, seeing the villagers holding the red couplets as if they were precious treasures made him feel more at ease than ever before.

As evening approached, the crowd dispersed.

Lu Dehuang knocked on Lu Chuan's door, his expression both mysterious and barely concealed with excitement.

"Chuan'er, take a rest." Uncle Liu sat down on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), took out a heavy blue cloth bag from his pocket, and peeled it open layer by layer. Inside was a pile of copper coins that shone with a metallic luster, and a piece of silver weighing about one tael.

Lu Chuan was taken aback: "Sixth Uncle, what's this?"

"This is the first batch of dividends from the medicinal herb fields this year, plus the cash we just received from catching fish and selling duck eggs." Lu Dehuang's voice trembled slightly. "I've done the math, and every household in the village has discussed it. This year, everyone will receive ten less coins. Adding our eldest son's own savings, this... comes to exactly two thousand five hundred coins."

Two thousand five hundred coins!

In an era when a single coin could buy a large steamed bun, this was nothing short of a fortune.

Lu Chuan looked at the pile of scattered but neatly stacked money and his heart trembled.

"The teacher said the book costs two taels of silver, which is about two thousand coins." Lu Dehuang pushed the blue cloth bundle into Lu Chuan's hands, his tone firm. "When you take the remaining five hundred coins to the county, buy two good brushes and some fine Xuan paper. Although our Lu Family Village is poor, we still have enough money to support your studies."

Lu Chuan opened his mouth, his voice trembling slightly, "Sixth Uncle, this money... the villagers..."