Chapter Fifty-Six: Third Place in the County

The extra assignments given by Mr. Zhang didn’t weigh heavily on Su Lu’s mind, for just the other day he had voluntarily increased his daily recitations from one passage to three. Indeed, those who burden themselves with pressure are often the harshest taskmasters. Of course, it helped that these texts were exceptionally easy to memorize. The finest formulaic essays, with their rhythmic cadence and clear logic, their elegant yet accessible language and fluid structure, were a delight to recite, far simpler than the annotated Four Books.

Furthermore, constrained by the rules, each essay never exceeded seven hundred characters. For Su Lu at his current level, reciting three essays daily was strenuous but still doable, in addition to his regular studies.

As for the paired sentence exercises, they were perhaps the most enjoyable of all the tasks assigned to scholars. One need only look to the legends of ancient literati, where tales of clever couplets abound. Unlike the rigid parallel prose, the formulaic essays offered flexible pairings—no need for ornate diction, allusions, or strict line lengths—allowing for freedom and practice anywhere, anytime.

Thus, Su Lu and Su Dan took up a new pastime on their journeys to and from school, engaging in paired sentence drills. This required no assistance from Su Youcai, as Su Dan had already received thorough training in the art at the clan academy. Since the start of term, Su Dan had benefited much from Su Lu’s help; now, finally able to return the favor, he was delighted.

Su Dan explained that paired sentence training starts simple, from single words, moving on to pairs, triplets, quads, quints, and eventually full sentences, always matching rhyme and meter.

“Let’s give it a try, and you’ll see for yourself. I’ll start—” Su Dan glanced around. It was already the second month; wildflowers bloomed along the roadside. Smiling, he declared, “Flower.”

“Willow,” Su Lu replied, seeing the tender sprouts by the Redwater River.

“Red flower.”

“Green willow.”

“Roadside red flower.”

“Riverbank green willow.”

“Roadside births red flower.”

“Riverbank hangs green willow.”

“Roadside births new red flower.”

“Riverbank hangs tender green willow.” Su Lu’s memorized couplets were not for nothing; he spun out simple pairings effortlessly.

“Time to raise the difficulty,” Su Dan warned, increasing the phrase to six characters: “Roadside births newly blossoming red flower.”

Su Lu recognized the trap—the word “new” paired easily, but “blossoming” introduced a verb, and “tender” would need a corresponding action. For a novice like him, it was indeed challenging.

The one posing the pairings held the initiative, able to make things tricky for the respondent—especially when the questioner was a seasoned expert.

Staring at the newly sprouted willow shoots, Su Lu pondered for a long while before finally replying, “Riverbank hangs tenderly unfurling green willow.”

“That works,” Su Dan nodded, somewhat reluctantly.

“Tell me, noble brother, which would be better?” Su Lu asked sincerely.

“‘Dye’ seems more fitting,” Su Dan smiled. “What do you think?”

“Riverbank hangs tenderly dyed green willow,” Su Lu admitted, “That’s indeed a hundred times better.”

“Just a common touch,” Su Dan replied modestly. “Shall we continue?”

“Let’s,” Su Lu agreed, thoroughly enjoying the wordplay despite his modest skill.

“Good.” Su Dan extended it to seven characters: “Roadside births newly blossoming faint red flower.”

“Riverbank hangs tenderly dyed pale green willow.”

“Roadside births newly blossoming faintly swaying red flower.”

“Riverbank hangs tenderly dyed lightly swaying green willow.” This time Su Lu was alert; the trap failed.

“Roadside births newly blossoming faintly swaying disarrayed red flower.”

“Riverbank hangs tenderly dyed lightly swaying slanted green willow.” The difficulty mounted, and Su Lu took quite some time to respond.

Su Dan nodded approvingly, surprised his brother could match so well on his first attempt. In truth, he was finding it harder and harder to devise pairs. He could, of course, contrive something by tacking on “inn” in front and “branch” after “flower,” but that would pose no challenge at all.

Yet for their first exercise, he couldn’t let it end on his side, lest his brother think him lacking. So, forcing himself, he produced a ten-character phrase: “Roadside births newly blossoming faintly swaying shattered red flower.”

“Riverbank hangs tenderly dyed lightly swaying scattered slanted green willow.” Su Lu had grasped the technique—the longer the phrase, the harder it was to pose the question, though the respondent could follow step by step, making it easier.

Knowing Su Dan’s temperament, Su Lu took the initiative to call a halt: “Let’s stop here; any further would be too difficult.”

Su Dan, still young, didn’t realize his brother was sparing his pride. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Brother, you’re amazing! On your first try, you nearly left me at a loss for words.”

“Haha, it’s just practice. No need to worry about winning or losing,” Su Lu laughed. “Let’s pick a new word and try again!”

Through this exercise, Su Lu came to appreciate Mr. Zhang’s careful guidance. Paired sentence training greatly enhances mastery over language, and seems akin to the method of breaking the topic in essays—a lesson well worth learning.

~~~

With Mr. Zhang’s attentive teaching, Su Lu soon adapted to the academy’s rhythm. He fully kept pace with the morning classics class, and Mr. Zhang quickly finished The Great Learning and started guiding the students through the Analects.

The afternoon essay classes were much tougher, as his peers had long since mastered the formulaic essays and the teacher could not slow down for Su Lu alone. In just a month, they had covered breaking the topic, continuing the topic, beginning the lecture, and had already started the main essay.

Su Lu had no choice but to muddle through in class, relying on frantic study after hours to catch up. Mr. Zhang, though concerned, insisted he proceed step by step, making sure he mastered each stage before moving on, forbidding him from running before he could walk.

Only when Su Lu’s topic-breaking exercises were deemed satisfactory did Mr. Zhang allow him to attempt continuing the topic—and by then, it was already mid-February, just a month left before the first major examination.

February was a blur for Su Lu, but good news abounded.

First, his foster mother’s sweet water shop opened. Following Su Lu’s advice, she presented the business plan—coded in trade jargon—to Captain Ma. Though Ma didn’t fully grasp the details, he was deeply impressed.

People always respect what they don’t understand, and Captain Ma now firmly believed the sweet water business was sophisticated and high-end, fit only for experts like his foster mother.

He not only blocked his brother-in-law from meddling in the Sweet Water brand, but offered his best storefront as an investment.

Su Lu visited the shop after school; it stood at the town’s central crossroads. One road led to the Redwater Bridge, another to the River God Temple, and the third was the main thoroughfare into and out of Taiping Town.

“This is prime real estate,” Su Lu said, standing on the second floor of the shop under renovation, watching the busy street below.

“It is,” the proprietress replied, her hair wrapped in blue cloth, clothes smudged, her fair forehead flecked with dust. “Aside from being a bit small, there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Small for a restaurant, but just right for selling sweet water,” Su Lu laughed. “Making the most of resources—Captain Ma is a shrewd one.”

“Indeed. He’s agreeable now because he’s convinced we’ll make money. If we let him down, he’ll likely turn nasty,” the proprietress commented, clear-eyed.

“Why should you hold back then?” Su Lu laughed. “Make the most of him, too.”

“I already have,” the proprietress smiled, raising a dainty fist. “I’ve visited every restaurant, tavern, brothel, and gambling house in town. Everyone knows it’s Captain Ma’s business now, so I got respect all around—just the deposits alone came to ten taels.”

“Really? When does supply start?” Su Lu asked, delighted.

“It’s already begun. There’s a small courtyard behind the shop, and I have workers bottling product there, not wasting a day,” she replied with a smile.

“A front shop with a back factory,” Su Lu sighed, realizing at last that the term ‘foster mother’ meant one who was exceptionally capable.

With such a capable foster mother, he no longer asked questions, only cared about her daily life. “Where are you staying now?”

“Right here,” she said. “When renovations are done, Mother and Tiantian will join me, and the three of us will live upstairs.”

She warmly invited him, “Son, you needn’t trek back and forth. After school, stay here with us—it’ll help us feel safer at night.”

Su Lu rubbed his nose; his foster mother was so persuasive he was tempted to accept. But his studies were heavy, and he couldn’t be away from his second brother for a single night. Glancing at Su Dan waiting at the shop door, he said, “We’ve agreed to go to and from school together—I must keep my word.”

“My son truly is an honest little gentleman,” the proprietress mused, thinking she might be rushing things.

But time was on her side; eventually, she’d win his heart.

She put on a disappointed look, as if he’d made some grave mistake.

Su Lu felt compelled to change his answer: “When the weather’s bad, I’ll come trouble you.”

“Sigh, very well. Son, don’t be so formal. Remember, this is your home too—come back often, you hear?”

“Yes, I’ll remember,” Su Lu replied, moved yet increasingly certain she had ulterior motives.

Was she laying a siege for reinforcements?

~~~

There was even greater news.

On February twentieth, Su Lu returned home from school to find the stilt house bustling with activity—all eighteen branches of the family gathered.

The last time it had been so lively was for his uncle’s wedding.

But now, joy was on every face—even the usually dour old master was smiling and chatting.

His eldest aunt was beside herself, dressed up like a flowering branch despite her age, carrying a teapot among the crowd but offering no tea, just eager for compliments.

“Oh, no, how could we let the young scholar’s mother pour tea?”

“Sister-in-law, such fortune, to have a son like yours.”

“Spring, that child, was clever from the start, but it’s thanks to your fine teaching!”

“Oh, nonsense, you make me blush,” she protested, though her face said, “Keep it coming, don’t stop.”

Su Lu instantly understood; he’d been counting the days himself. He asked Su Youcai, who was boiling water in the yard, “Did my brother pass the county exam?”

“Yes,” Su Youcai replied, joy tinged with a hint of envy. “Your uncle sent word—results were posted yesterday, and Spring ranked third in the entire county!”

“Really? Our big brother’s that amazing?!” Su Lu exclaimed, leaping for joy.

ps. This book has truly taken all my effort, which is why progress is slow. Please vote for it!