Poor but talented scholar

Chapter 92 Serious

Lu Chuan's eyes flickered slightly as he noticed that this file had been accessed very few times in the past ten years, and each time the person who accessed it had their name followed by a signature indicating their registration.

Following the example of his predecessors, he wrote down the date, number, and his name in the registration book he carried with him.

He took the scroll and sat down at a well-lit copying table.

Unfolding the file, one finds an ink scroll from thirty years ago.

His gaze was fixed on the red annotations on the paper.

Those are the handwritings left by examiners from previous years.

In some places, dense red circles were drawn, representing enthusiastic praise; in others, there were only a few words of annotation, such as lofty ideas, lack of spirit, or the argument being slightly radical.

"I see……"

This is not just an examination paper; it is a barometer for talent selection in the Great Qian Dynasty.

He discovered that every ten years, the examiners' preferences would shift slightly: some years favored antiquity, while others preferred reform.

The frequency of mentions of reforms has clearly increased in outstanding case files from the past five years.

Just as Lu Chuan was engrossed in watching, he heard footsteps behind him.

He didn't turn around, but his hand paused slightly.

As expected, the scribe had silently walked up behind him without him noticing.

"Chief Lu, I've got it."

"These documents are for viewing only. You are not allowed to make copies of the entire scrolls without permission, and you are even more prohibited from taking them out of this room. Each page has a unique hidden number in the corner. When I collect these books, I count them page by page."

The scribe pointed to an hourglass beside the table: "You have more than half an hour left. If you don't return by then, your admission quota for next month will be deducted."

Lu Chuan didn't even look up: "Thank you for the reminder, senior. I was just extracting some problem-solving ideas and would never dare to violate the rules."

From the day he entered Wan Juan Lou, Lu Chuan's life was like a clockwork mechanism.

Every day, just as dawn breaks and the staff of Qingyouju have just removed the door panels, Lu Chuan is already sitting on the first floor of the inn.

His breakfast was extremely simple and fixed: a bowl of hot clear soup noodles, a poached egg, and a dish of crisp pickled vegetables.

This was something Lu Shouye specifically instructed: studying takes a lot of brainpower, so eggs are a must.

Lu Chuan ate very quickly.

He would carefully finish his noodle soup, wipe his mouth clean, and then pick up the wooden book box that had been with him for a long time and head towards the prefectural school.

Whenever the gates of the prefectural school opened, Lu Chuan was always the first to arrive.

The old librarian in the library initially thought that the young scholar was only a novelty for a few days, but after half a month, he found that as soon as he opened the library door, the boy was sure to be standing at the bottom of the steps.

"It's you again." The old librarian pushed up his glasses and said curtly.

Lu Chuan walked skillfully to the table, picked up his brush, dipped it in ink, signed his name on the "Entry and Exit Register," and then hung the ivory tag on the familiar T-shaped iron hook.

He executed this entire process flawlessly.

Once you're deep inside the bookshelves, the noise outside disappears.

Lu Chuan reads a wide variety of books, yet his understanding of them is profound.

He was no longer satisfied with just the excellent case files, and began to study the incomplete case files of those who failed the exams and the local government documents.

Sometimes he would stare at a land tax document from thirty years ago for half an hour at a time.

Sometimes, he would be captivated by the policy manuscripts of a great Confucian scholar, reading them with rapt attention.

Beside the copying table, fine sand flowed in the hourglass.

Lu Chuan sat there, like a stone sculpture.

Aside from the action of turning the pages of a book, he did almost nothing else.

Occasionally, other students would enter the room and see this eleven-year-old top scholar. They would want to go up and say hello, but seeing his almost meditative appearance, they would unconsciously slow their pace.

The setting sun gradually slanted across the double eaves.

The old librarian began inspecting the various bookshelves, a bunch of keys in his hand jingling as he signaled people to leave.

"Chief Lu, the hourglass has run out." The scribe's voice echoed in the hall.

Lu Chuan suddenly woke up. He carefully closed the file, made sure there were no creases on the corners, put it back in its original position according to the number, and finally retrieved the ivory tag.

When he leaves his home, he will open his arms wide and allow the scribe to inspect his book bag and cuffs.

Stepping out of the academy, the hustle and bustle of the city hit you.

Lu Chuan carried his book box and walked back to Qingyou Residence.

Street vendors selling snacks and noisy taverns.

Back at the inn, Lu Shouye had already prepared a simple warm meal.

"Chuan'er, you're back? Are you tired?"

"I'm not tired, Dad."

After dinner, Lu Chuan would light an oil lamp on time.

He didn't linger outside for a moment longer, nor did he pay attention to anything else.

He simply copied the day's events bit by bit into his notebook under the lamp.

As time went on...

He keenly realized that the upcoming provincial examination would be presided over by the provincial education commissioner.

Educational officials were often directly appointed by the imperial court, and their assessments included not only the candidates' writing skills but also their practical knowledge and potential for governance.

Therefore, Lu Chuan retrieved the case file numbers and shifted from the "Ding" series of model essays for the imperial examinations to the "Ren" and "Gui" series.

That was where the local gazetteer, maps of mountains and rivers, and compilations of agricultural and water conservancy works from various dynasties were kept.

At dawn, the old librarian looked at the numbered slip Lu Chuan handed him: "You want to read 'The Water Conservancy Records of Yingnan' and 'A Study of Folk Customs of the Great Qian Dynasty'? Chief Scholar Lu, these things are complicated and difficult to remember, and there are rarely direct questions about them in the exam. Are you sure you don't want to look at those trendy exam predictions?"

While registering the information, Lu Chuan replied, "Senior, strategies arise from the heart. If one does not know the mountains and rivers of Yingnan, how can one understand the hardships of the people? If one does not know the advantages and disadvantages of agriculture and commerce, then policy proposals are merely castles in the air."

Sign, verify, and take your seats.

He was completely absorbed in watching it.

Sometimes, in order to figure out how a local product called "ma gen" affected border trade, he would rummage through three shelves of books, comparing records from the past fifty years.

After having breakfast at the inn, he hurried over, and even during his lunch break he only ate a bite of the dry, hard flatbread he had brought with him.

Although Lu Chuan had already prohibited it and reserved enough silver, Lu Shouye was destined to be a hard-working man all his life.

Whenever he has free time, he feels anxious, always feeling that he is letting down his ancestors by living off their wealth.

So every morning after seeing Lu Chuan off, he would secretly change into a coarse cloth jacket, tighten his belt, and walk to Yingnan Wharf with practiced ease.

At midday, the sun was scorching at Yingnan Wharf.

On the river, several boats with very deep drafts had just docked, and as soon as the gangplank was set up, shouts rang out from the dock.

"Brother Lu, give it your all! If this boatload of rice isn't unloaded before late afternoon, the boss will dock your wages!" The foreman shouted, waving a sweat-soaked towel in his hand.

"Alright, it won't cause any problems!" Lu Shouye replied in a muffled voice.

With each step he took, the wooden plank beneath his feet trembled.

During a break from unloading, several laborers huddled in the shade, gulping down large mouthfuls of herbal tea.