Chapter Nine: Full-Time Student

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“Zhu, Qin, You, Xu; He, Lü, Shi, Zhang. Kong, Cao, Yan, Hua; Jin, Wei, Tao, Jiang.”

Within and outside the stilted house, the clear and resonant recitation echoed. In front of the entire family, Su Lu fluently recited, only pausing slightly when he reached “Wan Qi, Sima, Shangguan, Ouyang.”

His eldest uncle couldn’t help but nod approvingly—he had already recited four hundred characters. After carrying sorghum all day, Qiu Ge’er could still memorize so much; it was truly impressive.

“Xiahou, Zhuge, Wenren, Dongfang. Helian, Huangfu, Yuchi, Gongyang...”

But Su Lu simply let out a breath; the hardest part was over, and from here on, the compound surnames were easier to remember. After a brief adjustment, he continued seamlessly to the end:

“Mo, Ha, Qiao, Da, Nian, Ai, Yang, Tong. Diwu, Yan, Fu—the Hundred Surnames end!”

His uncle involuntarily gaped in astonishment—five hundred and sixty-eight characters, flawlessly recited! Qiu Ge’er had truly committed the entire text to memory. “That’s an incredible memory!”

But it wasn’t over! Su Lu reached over to help his uncle flip the page and declared in a deep voice, “Next is the Thousand Character Classic!”

Under the dumbfounded stares of his family, he continued, completely absorbed in his recitation:

“...The sword is named Juque, the pearl called Night’s Light. Fruits, especially plums and peaches; vegetables, heavy with mustard and ginger. The sea is salty, the river is fresh; fish dive, birds soar. Dragon masters, Fire Emperor, Bird Officials, the Human Sovereign...”

Though the Thousand Character Classic had twice as many characters as the Hundred Surnames, it was only half as difficult to memorize.

This was because it not only carried meaning but was also logically ordered, moving from nature to humanity, then to the way of life, which greatly facilitated understanding and memory.

Moreover, the author had composed it in rhymed segments; for example, from “Heaven and Earth, dark and yellow” to “instruments are hard to measure”—the first forty-eight lines all rhymed with “-ang,” making it exceptionally friendly for reading and memorization.

Combined with the distinctive “two plus two” rhythmic recitation, it was both satisfying and efficient to memorize, a true paragon of mnemonic text.

As Su Lu recited with measured cadence, the Su family, led by Su Youcai, clapped along in enjoyment.

His aunt didn’t intend to join in, but while she could control her hands, her neck bobbed in rhythm against her will...

Su Lu was, by nature, someone who thrived before an audience; spurred on by his family’s support, his mind was in a heightened state, his memory crystal clear, and he recited the entire piece flawlessly from start to finish.

“Uninformed and ignorant, deserving of ridicule. These are the auxiliary words: yan, zai, hu, ye!”

Yet the whole family was still unsatisfied, silently savoring the beauty of the Thousand Character Classic’s rhythm.

“Uncle, I’ve finished.” Seeing his uncle still stunned, Su Lu had to cough gently to bring him back.

The Su family finally snapped out of their daze, all turning to their uncle. His aunt stammered, “He—he couldn’t have just made that up, could he? Who could remember so many words?”

“N—not a single mistake...” His uncle stuttered as well.

With a loud bang, the old man slapped the table and roared, “Impressive!”

“Well done, well done!” His little aunt and Su Tai were overjoyed, each flanking Su Lu and piling food into his bowl. “Qiu Ge’er is amazing!”

Even the hard-of-hearing grandmother and the clueless Jinbao chimed in with the commotion.

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Only his younger uncle kept his head down, eating quietly, as if he didn’t belong to their world at all...

~~

“Qiu Ge’er, you must have recited these two texts before, right?” Once everyone had recovered from their astonishment, his uncle asked again.

“Yes, yes, that must be it,” his aunt quickly nodded. “How could Qiu Ge’er outdo Chun Ge’er?”

“Even if Qiu Ge’er had memorized them before, to still remember so clearly now is impressive enough,” his uncle coughed, signaling his wife to let it rest.

“That’s not the case. To be frank, I taught him both of these just last night,” Su Youcai said with humble pride. “At the time, Qiu Ge’er struggled to read them, and there were quite a few characters he didn’t know.”

“Well, who would’ve thought the boy’s such a talent,” his uncle said, giving a big thumbs-up. “Maybe there’s real hope for the academy exam after all.”

“Then I must focus on my studies,” Su Lu immediately responded, seizing the opportunity. “There’s so much to learn, and not nearly enough time, Uncle.”

“All right, from tomorrow, you don’t need to do chores. Focus on your studies until the end of the year,” his uncle declared decisively.

“There’s so much work at home though,” his aunt objected. “And who’ll look after the children?”

“We’ll cover Qiu Ge’er’s work,” Su Tai, who had been quiet all along, spoke up. “Not a single task will be delayed.”

“Second brother...” Su Lu opened his mouth, but Su Tai gave his arm a reassuring squeeze and grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of strength. Just concentrate on your studies.”

Su Lu nodded emphatically. Summer brother was truly the best brother in the world.

Even little Jinbao piped up in his childish voice, “I’ll be good, no need to watch me.”

His aunt could no longer object, but still muttered, “Chun Ge’er could recite the Thousand Character Classic and Hundred Surnames by age eight, so it’s nothing special.”

“Thank you for your guidance, Aunt. I’ll continue to work hard,” Su Lu replied calmly. Gaining permission to focus on his studies was enough; there was no need to quarrel further.

“Hmph, just last-minute preparations,” his aunt grumbled as she reluctantly withdrew.

~~

After dinner, back in their room, Su Youcai finally couldn’t hold back his laughter. He thumped Su Lu on the shoulder, exclaiming, “All these years, hearing your uncle and aunt boast about Chun Ge’er has made my ears ache. Today, my son finally brought honor to the family—it feels wonderful!”

“How did you memorize so much?” Su Tai lit the pine oil lamp, curious.

“Second brother, I used a few techniques.” Su Lu didn’t keep his secrets, sharing his methods with his father and brother, hoping it might help them too.

Unfortunately, Su Tai grew drowsy just listening to the various memory techniques, nodding off and muttering prayers once more.

Su Youcai, however, understood the value of these methods for a scholar. Surprised, he asked, “There’s so much to memorization? You can even recite while walking or sleeping?”

“Yes,” Su Lu nodded. “Of course, that’s partly because the ‘Three Hundred and Thousand’ are especially easy to memorize. With other texts, it might not work as well.”

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Memory is the process by which the brain encodes, stores, and retrieves information. Su Lu had carefully studied all sorts of rapid memorization methods, and found that the truly effective ones all strengthened these three stages.

The ‘Three Hundred and Thousand’ optimized the encoding of information, arranging it into rhymed, catchy sentences to enhance memory. This is called the “mnemonic formula method.” The twenty-four solar terms and the periodic table are similar examples; it greatly reduces the difficulty of memorization and makes it easier to recall without omission.

“Where did you learn all this?” Su Youcai asked in confusion.

“After that bout of heatstroke, all these methods appeared in my head. I tried them while memorizing, and they really worked...” Su Lu could only offer a vague explanation.

“I’ve heard that Jiang Yan, Fan Zhi, and Li Taibai all dreamed of immortals bestowing writing brushes, and upon waking, their literary skills soared. Could it be that in the sorghum field, my son also received such an immortal’s gift, suddenly becoming enlightened overnight?” Su Youcai mused with delight.

“That... I really can’t say,” Su Lu knew his father would fill in the gaps himself. Still, there was something odd about this explanation.

“But then again, your handwriting is as childish and unpolished as ever—hardly the work of a talented immortal.” He picked up the stack of paper Su Lu had written last night, shaking his head more and more as he looked. “Anyone seeing this handwriting would never believe you’ve been to school.”

“Yes, Father, I can’t write properly—it’s just scribbling,” Su Lu admitted humbly. “Please teach me.”

“I certainly will!” Su Youcai pointed at the messy desk, admonishing his son, “A child’s first lessons should begin with cleanliness. The inkstone must be free of residue, the brush without old ink. Books must be neatly arranged, and the text should not be scribbled or carelessly marked.”

Su Lu couldn’t help but smile wryly—he had broken every rule: the inkstone wasn’t washed, the brush wasn’t cleaned, books were scattered across the desk. For easier memorization, he’d even added periods and commas to the Thousand Character Classic and Hundred Surnames...

“Strictly speaking, I ought to slap your palms until they’re as swollen as pig’s feet. But ignorance bears no guilt; just don’t let it happen again,” Su Youcai said sternly.

“Yes, I’ll remember that,” Su Lu replied obediently, quickly cleaning the inkstone, washing the brush, and tidying up the desk.

Only then did Su Youcai begin teaching him from the very basics: “When grinding ink, wash your hands and sit properly. The ink comes alive with water, but the water must be clean—not dirty or hot. Pouring water directly into the inkstone often results in too much, so first pour clean water into the water dropper.”

The “water dropper” is a small vessel for water, with a spout called a “water pourer,” and without a spout, a “water basin.” Su Youcai used a chipped goose-shaped water pourer.

As he dripped water onto the inkstone, Su Youcai instructed, “Add three to five drops at a time, grinding as you go. The quality of writing largely depends on the ink. Too much grinding makes the ink dry and sluggish; too little, and the ink runs. The key is to get the right consistency.”

He picked up the ink stick and demonstrated on the inkstone: “Hold it in your left hand, press with your fingers, keep the palm hollow, press down firmly and push lightly, moving in circles, a hundred times back and forth.”

He paused, then added, “But our ink is made by Summer brother from pine soot—sometimes it’s too hard from too much glue, sometimes too soft from too little. So don’t worry about the number of circles; just check that the mark left by the ink stick doesn’t disappear immediately—it’s ready then...”

Hearing his name, Su Tai suddenly woke up, embarrassed. “I’m too clumsy...”

“You’re already amazing, Second Brother!” Su Lu admired him immensely, giving thumbs up with both hands and feet. Summer brother was truly skilled and capable of anything.

“Summer brother really is talented—the ink he makes is black and glossy, even better than what’s sold in town. All the schools in the clan use his ink,” Su Youcai praised, making Su Tai so happy he could barely close his mouth, even yawning in delight.

“Go to bed now; yawning is contagious,” Su Youcai said, following with a yawn of his own. “And don’t forget to wash your feet well—last night it smelled like a dead mouse in here.”

“Alright,” Su Tai obediently got up, took the only basin in the room, and went to fetch water to wash his feet.