Chapter Nineteen: Xia Is Far Too Busy

Based on this hypothesis, Su Lu began searching for variables, and soon discovered that the greatest variable was this: two nights ago, Second Brother was working the night shift at the distillery, but last night, Second Brother was home...

Could it be that Second Brother is actually the true “anchor”? Su Lu felt this was utterly absurd. After all, he hadn’t slept in Second Brother’s arms, so how could it possibly be related to him?

Was there anything that could affect him during sleep without direct contact with Second Brother?

After pondering, he identified two possibilities: one was the melodious and lingering sound of Second Brother’s snoring; the other was the smell of his sweaty feet after a long day’s work.

He quickly dismissed the second option—they were all plagued by sweaty feet in their family, and he didn't have a dog’s nose to distinguish which was the scent of salted fish and which was shrimp paste…

But the snoring was a different matter. Their father’s snore was the harsh, grating kind, dry and unpleasant. Second Brother’s was utterly unique—deep, moist, clear, melodious, lingering in the air like the notes of a hulusi flute.

That sound was so distinct, so mesmerizing; ever since arriving here, he’d fallen asleep to its music every night, except for just two nights!

And it was precisely those two nights that he had no memory of his sleep...

~~~

Out of scientific rigor, Su Lu decided to conduct an experiment.

That night, he pleaded with Second Brother, “I need to test something tonight. It’ll trouble you to get up for a bit.”

“That’s no trouble at all. Just call me when you need me,” Second Brother Su Tai agreed heartily.

So, after his nightly review, Su Lu returned to the room and gently woke Second Brother, whispering, “Don’t sleep yet, and especially, don’t snore.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t sleep if you kill me.” Su Tai quickly sat cross-legged, propping his eyelids open with both index fingers.

Su Lu closed his eyes and began the experiment, but after nearly half an hour, he still couldn’t quiet his mind or fall asleep.

Forget about sleep-memory; he was on the verge of insomnia.

“Brother, you can sleep now,” Su Lu sighed.

“Alright.” Su Tai had been struggling to stay awake, and at Su Lu’s words, he felt as if he’d been pardoned. He lay down immediately and, before long, that familiar snoring filled the room...

Strangely enough, lulled by the winding tune of that snore, Su Lu soon calmed down and drifted into sleep, reviewing his lessons as he did so.

~~~

The next morning, as usual, he was awakened by the crowing of the rooster. Without opening his eyes, he began his review. Everything he’d studied the night before surfaced in his mind, paragraph after paragraph.

The sleep-memory technique had worked again...

Su Lu was both amused and exasperated. Now it was clear: his “anchor” was indeed Second Brother’s snore.

Just then, Su Tai woke up and saw his younger brother gazing at him with deep affection. Puzzled, he asked, “Qiu, what are you staring at?”

“Second Brother, I’m certain now—without your snoring, I can’t memorize my books at night.” Su Lu blinked ingratiatingly.

“What?” Su Tai was so stunned his mouth hung open. He’d never expected his snoring to have such an effect...

After a moment’s thought, he asked, “But what about when I get married?”

“Second Brother, you really think ahead,” Su Lu replied with a wry smile.

“Hahaha, is my snoring really that miraculous?” Su Youcai laughed. “Does it have to be his? What’s wrong with your father’s snore?”

“It’s not the right frequency; it just doesn’t work,” Su Lu sighed. “Those two nights when Second Brother was gone, Father’s snoring only gave me a headache and made me want to run to the outhouse...”

---

“Well, then there’s nothing I can do,” Su Youcai said, patting his two sons on the shoulder as he led them out. “You two figure it out.”

“Alright, I’ll just postpone marriage for two years,” Second Brother decided.

“No need for that.” Su Lu hadn’t expected him to take it so seriously and quickly waved his hands. “There must be other ways. I can’t sleep with you forever, can I?”

“Fine, let me know when you find another way,” Second Brother nodded, then added resolutely, “From now on, I’ll always sleep at home.”

“Ah...” Su Lu regretted telling him; wasn’t this just adding to his burden?

He sternly reminded himself: Su Lu, you must avoid becoming a burden to others!

But for now, he had no time to look for alternatives—his whole focus must be on passing the entrance exam to the academy...

~~~

In the days that followed, Su Lu continued his relentless studies.

He strung rows of hemp rope across the southern wall of his room.

Each morning, he hung up the day’s study materials—banana-leaf papers with mind maps sketched on them—covering an entire wall.

After memorizing a section, he’d take down a leaf, and would not rest until the wall was cleared.

But the difficulty of reciting the “Collected Annotations on the Four Books” was enormous. Su Lu found that even with the “timed review method” based on the forgetting curve, he couldn’t master it reliably, so he resorted to the Feynman Technique!

According to the “Learning Pyramid Theory,” different learning methods produce vastly different retention rates after two weeks. Passive learning, like listening to lectures, results in only five percent retention.

Active learning, on the other hand, allows students to remember over half the material—if you teach it to someone else, you can retain up to ninety percent! It is the most effective way to preserve knowledge.

The Feynman Technique is based on this principle: deepen your understanding by teaching the material, thus retaining it more efficiently.

But teaching requires true comprehension; if you can’t explain something in simple terms, you haven’t really understood it. So, you should try to teach it as if to an eight-year-old, using the simplest language possible.

But Su Lu only had a three-year-old at home, who understood nothing but what to eat.

Among the others: his grandmother was hard of hearing, his grandfather was irritable lately, his uncles had both been schooled, his younger aunt would fall asleep at the first word of a lesson—and she slept remarkably well. His aunt-in-law was out of the question...

Clearly, the only suitable “student” was his “eighteen-year-old” Second Brother.

But he’d promised not to overburden his brother. How could he keep picking on the same sheep for wool?

Again, he reminded himself: Su Lu, you mustn’t keep relying on Second Brother!

~~~

“Today we’ll talk about the ‘King’s Attendants Shift the Topic’ from the lower section of ‘Annotations on King Hui of Liang,’” Su Lu explained to Second Brother:

“Mencius asked King Xuan of Qi, ‘Suppose you had a minister, and before he went to Chu, he entrusted his wife and children to a friend’s care. But when he returned, he found his family starving and freezing. What would you do with such a friend?’ King Xuan replied, ‘I’d break off the friendship.’

“Mencius then asked, ‘If your judicial officer can’t manage his subordinates, what should be done?’ The king answered, ‘Dismiss him.’

“Finally, Mencius asked, ‘If a ruler mismanages his country, what then?’ This time, King Xuan glanced left and right, changing the subject.”

Su Tai was completely absorbed, but puzzled, he asked, “Why didn’t he answer?”

“Because Mencius was talking about him. The first two questions were just setting him up for criticism—he’d already fallen into Mencius’s trap and couldn’t answer.” Su Lu did his best to explain in the simplest language.

---

“King Xuan feared self-criticism and considered seeking advice from those of lower status a disgrace. Such a person is unfit to undertake great matters. Thus, the great Song dynasty scholar Zhao Shunsun said: ‘This dialogue concerns rulers and ministers, superiors and subordinates; all must fulfill their duties and not neglect them, or they cannot ensure their own safety.’”

“I see now,” Su Tai clapped his hands in delight. “That’s a great story. Mencius makes excellent points, but it still feels a bit odd.”

“What’s odd about it?” Although pressed for time, Su Lu patiently discussed it with his brother. He genuinely wanted Second Brother to learn more “great truths”—since the martial exam also included essays.

“We’ll have to think about it,” Su Tai said seriously. “When I figure it out, I’ll ask you.”

“Anytime, Brother. I’ll answer with all my heart,” Su Lu replied with a bright smile.

And he was truly happy—Second Brother’s questions meant he’d understood. All of Su Lu’s explanations were drawn from Zhu Xi’s commentaries. If Second Brother could understand them, it meant Su Lu himself had truly grasped the material, so he needn’t fear forgetting it.

So, whenever Second Brother was free, Su Lu would pull him aside to teach. The first time through, he’d inevitably stumble, and Second Brother would have questions.

Those were the weak points in his own knowledge. With that precious feedback, he’d return to his studies, and repeat the process until the weak points were resolved and the knowledge fully mastered.

This method was extraordinarily effective, but it came at a high price. It exhausted Second Brother and was mentally taxing. The egg a day his aunt gave him was nowhere near enough to sustain him.

Watching Su Lu grow thinner by the day, his aunt finally relented on his eldest brother’s advice and allowed him two eggs a day.

Second Brother went even further—whenever he could, he’d go to the mountains or the riverbank to gather pine nuts, dig for gastrodia, fish, and catch snails, all to improve Su Lu’s nutrition. As a result, Su Lu didn’t collapse from exhaustion, but Second Brother grew so thin his jaw became pointed.

Su Lu’s heart ached for him. Ah, Su Lu, how will you ever repay Second Brother?

With his family treating him so well, Su Lu had no way out—passing the academy entrance exam was his only answer!

~~~

Time flew by, and winter arrived.

Though the Southwest rarely saw harsh cold in winter, people here didn’t use stoves! Daytime was bearable, but nighttime studies were hard to endure… The nights were cold enough, yet to vent the smoke from the pine torch, he had to crack a window. The mountain wind would sneak in, biting to the bone.

The only upside was that he never felt drowsy…

Fortunately, Grandmother had made cotton shoes for her grandsons, so at least his feet stayed warm. But his hands, ears, and nose tip were still freezing!

He gave himself the pen name “Cangyingzi”—the Chill Camp Scholar—because every few moments, he had to rub his hands and move about to restore circulation, or he’d be frozen stiff.

He never considered it hardship, however; he stuck to his demanding daily schedule with meticulous discipline, never slacking for a single day.

Gradually, his handwriting improved—at least it was neat and square, no longer an eyesore.

There was more good news: he’d finished memorizing two of the “Four Books with Collected Annotations”—“The Great Learning” and “The Analects.” Next up was “Mencius.”

The bad news was that “Collected Annotations on Mencius” was as long as the other three combined—one hundred twenty-six thousand characters! Add to that the eighteen thousand of “Annotations on the Doctrine of the Mean,” and he still had a total of one hundred forty-four thousand characters to memorize...

P.S. I was too tired last night and fell asleep before finishing. The next chapter will be about fifteen minutes late.