Chapter 78: Aihao's Words

Three days later, Su Lu came to Dao Nan Hall to submit his assignment. Over the past two days, he had repeatedly refined and polished his essay "On the Love of Mugwort," and felt it was much improved from the initial draft.

Zhu Liu took the assignment Su Lu handed over and began to read aloud, nodding as he did so:

"In the world, among all the grasses, trees, and flowers, there are many that delight the eye and heart. In ancient times, Zhou Dunyi loved the lotus alone; since the Zhao Song era, scholars have cherished the green bamboo. I alone love the mugwort for its steadfastness at the field's edge, and its unyielding nature beside the fence. Its leaves carry a sparse fragrance, its stem holds a rustic charm. The rain makes it stronger, the cold makes it stand taller. It does not chase the brilliance of peach or plum, nor envy the subtlety of orchid or cinnamon. Though of humble use, it never boasts; it keeps to the ordinary, hiding wisdom at its root.

I say the lotus is the pure and elegant among flowers; bamboo, the strong and upright among trees; mugwort, the honest and beneficial among grasses. Alas! The love of the lotus has carried its reputation for purity through the ages; who among us now loves mugwort as I do? The love of bamboo, indeed, is what scholars honor..."

Zhu Liu read the essay in one breath, somewhat intoxicated by the words, and praised, "Not bad, not bad—finally, it’s not plain speech anymore."

"It's all thanks to the original text; I merely imitated it," Su Lu replied respectfully.

He thought to himself, if I simply copy the original and it still turns out as plain speech, then I’ve truly learned nothing.

"Putting aside the imitation, your writing itself has some merit. I didn’t expect you to write prose with such genuine emotion and sound reasoning!" Zhu the headmaster praised further:

"Remember, when emotion is genuine and reasoning is sound, the spirit is strong; when the spirit is strong, your words—whether long or short, loud or soft—will all be fitting."

"Yes," Su Lu replied humbly, absorbing the lesson.

"What a fine phrase—'steadfast at the field’s edge, unyielding beside the fence.' Clearly, you poured real feeling into this piece; without personal experience, you couldn’t have written it," Zhu Liu remarked, glancing at Su Lu.

"Yes," Su Lu nodded, speaking softly, "As I conceived the essay, the more I thought of the mugwort behind the house in the fields, the more I felt a resonance. We children of the mountains are so alike to mugwort—just as humble as grass, as light as down, yet growing tenaciously, and able to enter halls and rooms, serving great purposes!"

"Indeed, this is just what Han Yu meant by 'injustice brings forth protest.'” Zhu Liu took a sip of tea, nodding slightly. “The 'reason' in prose is not hollow preaching, but arises from true feeling and circumstance. Whether worrying about the world, holding fast to principle, or gaining insight—all comes from genuine emotion that naturally flows, reaching straight to the heart."

"Yes." Su Lu carefully remembered every word the headmaster said, for each was a pearl of wisdom.

"Now do you understand why I had you write about mugwort?" Zhu Liu smiled smugly.

"Sir, you are truly farsighted," Su Lu said, half believing, but knowing mutual praise was expected.

"Haha, I was just teasing you—I couldn’t have thought so far ahead at the time," the headmaster laughed. Seeing his precocious student, he couldn’t help but joke with him; such is human nature.

Of course, Zhu Liu wasn’t just teasing; he still taught Su Lu in earnest...

Zhu Liu then thoroughly compared "On the Love of Mugwort" and "On the Love of Lotus," making the shortcomings of the essay clear at a glance.

"'On the Love of Lotus' writes of the flower, each line matching the virtues of a gentleman, the form and spirit blending seamlessly, and reading it you immediately understand 'the gentleman is the lotus.'

"But in your 'On the Love of Mugwort,' though you highlight its origins and toughness, words like 'sparse fragrance' and 'rustic charm' add nothing to the imagery, and there is not enough harmony between form and spirit.

"Moreover, the logic behind 'unyielding,' 'unmoved,' 'stronger,' 'more upright,' is insufficient, far less progressive than the original’s 'circumstance—posture—character,' so the symbolic meaning of mugwort fails to stand out..."

After pointing out the shortcomings, Zhu Liu also offered directions for improvement.

Headmaster Zhu was truly the top scholar and exam master of Luzhou. His literary instruction had not only height and depth, but also precision and dimension; he made one understand the what, the why, and even the how!

It was exactly what an exam-taker would love.

After hearing this, Su Lu felt enlightened, and immediately began to revise, penning—

"Born on barren soil yet not withered, battered by wind and frost yet unbroken, leaves hold bitter clarity, stems support farm and mulberry!"

The essay now clearly achieved unity of form and spirit, and its literary vitality was greatly improved!

Though this might seem unfair to Mr. Zhang, the headmaster’s lesson was indeed superior...

~~~

A lesson rich in benefit lasted nearly half an hour before class ended.

At the end, Headmaster Zhu assigned a new task: to write "Inscription for the Bathhouse," modeled after "Inscription for the Humble Room"...

Su Lu was too exhausted to complain, thanked the headmaster, and took his leave.

As he walked out, he ran into Zhu Zi He again, whose resentment was even stronger this time, face long as a mule as if owed eight hundred coins, leaving Su Lu baffled.

The reason was simple: Zhu Zi He had also come for class, but Su Lu had gotten there first, so Zhu Zi He waited outside for half an hour, surely feeling frustrated.

"Uncle, can I arrange to avoid him on different days?" he asked upon entering.

"No, I don’t have that much free time," Zhu Liu shook his head firmly, smiling. "If you two attend together, you save waiting and I save effort, don’t you?"

"I refuse—how can a thoroughbred share a stall with a plodding horse?" Zhu Zi He retorted.

"Aren’t they both eating grass and relieving themselves? What’s the difference?" Zhu Liu smiled calmly. "Besides, only time will tell a horse’s strength..."

Zhu Zi He frowned; wasn’t his uncle implying that between him and Su Lu, it’s not yet clear who will go farther?

"He’ll never catch up to me, because I’ll only run faster!" Proud as he was, Zhu could not stand his uncle’s low opinion.

"Very well," Zhu Liu nodded. "Hand over your assignment."

Zhu Zi He presented his notebook. He had more assignments, but Zhu Liu had also asked him to write an "On the Love of Mugwort."

While Zhu Liu checked his work, Zhu Zi He spotted Su Lu's essay on the desk.

He snorted. What level—even worthy to write the same essay as me?

Yet he couldn’t help but glance at it, and his expression gradually soured...

At this moment, Zhu Liu finished reading Zhu Zi He's "On the Love of Mugwort":

"...I alone love mugwort for its birth on hills, yet never sullied; its planting at the eaves, yet never proud; leaves conceal medicinal essence, stems hold spiritual fragrance; enduring fierce heat it grows stronger, enduring frost it does not wilt; it does not contend for garden splendor, nor envy pavilion serenity..."

He asked, "Who do you think wrote better?"

Zhu Zi He, proud as he was, wouldn’t lie; he lowered his head in silence—the answer was clear.

"An essay must first have soul; with soul, it has roots. Without soul, your essay lacks roots—how can it compare to his?" Zhu Liu said earnestly. "In your eyes, mugwort has no life—it’s just sticks for medicine, even when hung on the wall, you’ve never respected it. How could you write this essay well?"

"Don’t always posture; learn to appreciate others... Besides, you have little to be proud of." Zhu Liu’s last words were heavy.

Zhu Zi He’s eyes reddened from the admonition; whether he took it to heart was unclear.

~~~

Su Lu had no idea that Zhu had shed tears because of him again.

He returned to the academy, packed his bookcase, and hurried home—today his heart was set on returning!

Because Spring Brother had come back.

"Big brother!" Su Lu ran all the way home, dashed upstairs, and found Su Man holding Jin Bao in the courtyard, once again exuding elegance. But whether his spirit of self-assurance had returned was yet to be seen.

"The conduct of a gentleman is neither hurried nor slow," Spring Brother frowned as he saw Su Lu sweating profusely. "Rushing about—what sort of manners are these!"

"Alright, alright," Su Lu slowed his steps, thinking, He’s back—everything is back... Seems I worried for nothing.

"Third brother, big brother brought you lots of books," little Jin Bao piped up, "All stacked in uncle’s room—a whole box!"

"Big brother, you’ve spoiled me—I adore you!" Su Lu broke into a wide smile. Spring Brother always made you feel pain and joy together.

"Don’t flatter yourself—they’re not for you," Spring Brother glanced at him disdainfully, cleared his throat, "Besides, I couldn’t afford them anyway."

"Oh, oh," Su Lu replied cheerfully, refusing to quibble over words.

He hurried to uncle’s room and found dozens of nearly new books neatly arranged on the table, along with a thick stack of manuscripts.

"These are the collected works of Cheng Mo I’ve bought over the past half year, plus lecture notes from Wen Zhan Hall. Read them if you like, if not, put them back," Spring Brother followed him in, speaking lightly.

"Of course I’ll read them! Not only read, but I’ll certainly need your guidance," Su Lu replied with a smile, "But big brother, don’t you need them anymore?"

"There are still two full years before the next subject opens," Spring Brother exhaled deeply, sighing, "Reading them now is pointless."

"Then I’ll take good care of them, so you can use them when the time comes," Su Lu said with a smile.

"Mm." Su Man nodded, suddenly feeling the road ahead was endless, and grew less inclined to speak.

~~~

That evening, Aunt cooked a grand meal to welcome her son home. She’d intended to celebrate his third place at the county exam, but Spring Brother firmly refused.

During dinner, Aunt couldn’t help but ask, "Son, what are your plans? Will you keep studying, or... find some work first?"

Even for her own son, Aunt couldn’t stand idleness.

Now Su Lu no longer felt Aunt was targeting him...

Spring Brother answered curtly, "Scholars have no third path."

"Ah, ah, ah..." Uncle coughed dryly, feeling somewhat offended.

"Uncle, if you hadn’t quit the academy two days earlier, wouldn’t Spring Brother have taken your place?" Aunt said, feeling suddenly regretful.

"Yes, yes, my plans failed," Uncle replied guiltily, hoping to avoid discussion about quitting.

"Don’t worry," Spring Brother said calmly, "I’ve already received several invitations from private academies, even one from a community school—though it’s a bit farther away."

"Impressive!" Uncle was envious—third place in the county exam was indeed valuable, at least locally.

Aunt, however, insisted, "It must be close to home, or I’ll miss you, and if I get sick you can take care of me."

"Wretched woman, cursing your son?!" Uncle was furious and glared at her.

"Pfui, pfui, look at my mouth!" Aunt quickly slapped her lips, smiling sheepishly, "Besides, my words aren’t magic—I can’t make things happen just by saying them, right?"

"It’s fine, Mother, your words have always been effective," Su Man said confidently. "With your blessing, I’ll surely find a teaching post close to home."

"Haha, now that my son’s back, you can’t bully me anymore!" Aunt laughed triumphantly at Uncle.

ps. First extra chapter of the month, dedicated to the alliance leader, Diandian Didi 2020, a beloved old reader.