Poor but talented scholar

Chapter 7

April 13th, the sky was gradually brightening.

Lu Chuan got up a little earlier than usual. In the courtyard, Lu Shouye was pacing back and forth. He had taken his medicine these past few days and was now able to walk around.

The fire in the kitchen was already lit, and Lu's mother was busy inside. Hearing the noise, she brought out a bowl of hot water and handed it to Lu Chuan.

"Have a sip of something hot first, to warm your stomach."

Lu Xiaoman groggily emerged from the yard, her hair still messy and one shoe not properly on, shuffling with her eyes half-closed.

"Brother, are you going now?"

"Um."

Lu Xiaoman glanced at her slippers, shuffled her feet further in, and muttered, "Then you go ahead."

After saying that, he turned and walked into the house, his voice still sleepy:

"Brother, study hard."

......

He walked alone to the east end of the village, where the gate to his seventh uncle's courtyard was ajar.

Lu Chuan pushed open the door and went inside; there were already two people in the courtyard.

A man sat on a stone stool by the courtyard, craning his neck to watch the birds in the trees, his legs dangling over the edge of the stool, swinging back and forth. Seeing it was Lu Chuan, he grinned.

"Kawako, you're here too."

Lu Chuan nodded: "How long have you been here?"

"I've been here for five days." Lu Ming shifted to the side. "You only arrived today?"

"I've been here for five days." Lu Ming moved to the side. "You only arrived today?"

"Um."

Lu Gen squatted against the wall, head down, tracing names on the ground with his finger. Hearing their conversation, he looked up at Lu Chuan and muttered, "They're here."

After saying that, he lowered his head and continued to draw. He practiced for who knows how long, until he had drawn marks all over the ground.

Just then, the door opened, and Uncle Qi came out and glanced at the three of them.

His gaze lingered on Lu Ming for a moment.

"Sit still."

Lu Ming pulled his leg back from the edge of the stone block, stood up, and muttered something under his breath.

The three followed their seventh uncle into the main room and sat down on the benches. Lu Ming sat on the outermost side, Lu Gen sat in the middle, and Lu Chuan sat inside by the window.

Seventh Uncle picked up the book, opened it, and cleared his throat:

"Zhao, Qian, Sun, Li; Zhou, Wu, Zheng, Wang."

After reading it, he glanced at the three of them and gestured for them to repeat after him.

Lu Gen was the first to speak, very earnestly. Lu Ming followed, his voice loud and clear. Lu Chuan recited along, keeping pace with Seventh Uncle's rhythm.

After reading a dozen or so sentences, Uncle Qi put down his book and pushed the three sand tables in front of the three men, giving each of them a thin wooden stick.

"Just write it according to the book, and make sure the strokes are accurate first."

Lu Ming picked up a wooden stick and casually drew a couple of lines on the sand table. He tilted his head and glanced out the window, then whispered to Lu Chuan, "Yesterday, Seventh Uncle asked me to memorize the first two lines. It took me ages to memorize them. Are you good with your memory?"

Lu Chuan lowered his head, picked up a wooden stick, and traced the words from the book onto the sand table.

"good."

"How good is 'okay'?" Lu Ming asked again.

Seventh Uncle raised his eyelids and looked in Lu Ming's direction.

Lu Ming immediately lowered his head and pretended to be writing seriously.

Seventh Uncle's gaze swept over the three of them and stopped on Lu Ming's sand table.

"Lu Ming."

Lu Ming looked up: "Sigh."

Seventh Uncle pointed to his sand table: "Which stroke of this character is wrong?"

Lu Ming thought for a long time, then scratched his head: "That's right."

Seventh Uncle pushed the book in front of him, pointed to a word on the book with his finger, and then pointed to what he had written on the sand table.

Lu Ming leaned closer to compare them and then noticed, scoffing, "It's just a tiny bit off."

"Almost, just barely." Uncle Qi took the book back. "Rewrite it."

Lu Ming muttered something, lowered his head, smoothed out the sand table, and started over.

Lu Chuan listened attentively from the side, emphasizing that the horizontal strokes should be level and the vertical strokes straight. He memorized these two points and meticulously wrote down each stroke.

Seventh Uncle sat down next to the three men and watched for a moment.

As noon approached, Seventh Uncle put down his pen and spoke:

"That's all for today. Go back and recite what you read today ten times from memory. I'll check it when you come tomorrow."

Lu Ming was the first to stand up, stretched, and whispered to Lu Chuan, "Ten times, can you even memorize it?"

Lu Chuan packed up the sand table and stood up: "I can memorize it all."

Lu Gen had already left, still reciting today's lessons as he left the courtyard.

Lu Ming watched his retreating figure and shook his head: "This guy, he's obsessed with studying, I don't know what he's after."

Lu Chuan bowed to his seventh uncle and went out the door.

As soon as we entered the alley, we could see Lu Xiaoman squatting at the doorway, holding a twig and scratching at the ground.

When she saw him return, she stood up and glanced at his hands.

"What did Seventh Uncle teach us today?"

"He recited a few sentences from a book and wrote a few words."

"That's all?" Lu Xiaoman was a little disappointed. "Are you going again tomorrow?"

"go."

Lu Xiaoman traced the twig in her hand on the ground and whispered, "Brother, could you teach me what you learned today?"

Lu Chuan glanced at her. She kept her head down, the branch scraping against the ground.

Lu Chuan thought for a moment, then squatted down, took the branch from her hand, and drew a character on the ground.

Do you know how to pronounce this character?

Lu Xiaoman leaned over to look, tilted her head, and carefully examined it for a long time before shaking her head.

"Zhao," Lu Chuan said, "the first character in the Hundred Family Surnames."

He drew another one.

"What about this one?"

Lu Xiaoman looked at it for a long time and said, "I don't recognize it."

"money."

Lu Xiaoman repeated it aloud, staring intently at the two characters, whispering, "Zhao, Qian..."

Lu Chuan returned the branch to her, stood up, and walked into the house.

Behind him, Lu Xiaoman was still squatting on the ground, holding a twig, tracing the two characters he had drawn stroke by stroke, muttering them softly. After reading them once, she looked up, then looked down again and started tracing them again.

Upon entering the room, Lu Shouye leaned against the headboard. Hearing footsteps, he opened his eyes.

"I'm back."

"Hmm." Lu Chuan sat down on the edge of the bed. "I recited a few lines of the Hundred Family Surnames today and wrote the characters on the sand table."

Lu Shouye hummed in agreement before speaking, "What did Seventh Uncle say?"

"Let me go back and memorize it ten times. I'll check it tomorrow."

Lu Shouye nodded and said nothing more.

Lu Xiaoman's voice came in from outside the window. She read it word by word, pausing when she made a mistake and starting over, and continuing when she got it right.

Lu Shouye turned his head to listen out the window, his lips twitched, and he leaned back against the pillow.

Lu Chuan looked at him; his complexion was better than a few days ago, with some color in his cheekbones. There was only half a dose of medicine left.

He lowered his head and mentally reviewed what he had read that day.

Zhao, Qian, Sun, Li; Zhou, Wu, Zheng, Wang.

Feng, Chen, Chu, Wei; Jiang, Shen, Han, Yang.

Memorize it sentence by sentence.

Lu Chuan paused halfway through reciting the poem.

There's only half a dose of medicine left. Once I finish it, I'll stop. I still don't know where to get the money for the third dose.

He kept this to himself and didn't say anything.

It's no use saying anything.

He lowered his head again and then turned his back.