Traveling Through Ancient Times to Be a Teacher - Chapter 40

Steward Xu also saw Chu Ci. He smiled politely at him, then turned to watch his young master perform the disciple’s bow. 

How adorable—he was exactly like the young master in his youth.

Teacher Shen looked to be around twenty-five or twenty-six years old. After giving a brief lecture, he dismissed Zhongli Yu to the side and called the next two forward.

Under his watchful gaze, Chu Xiaoyuan stepped up, clasped his little hands together, and bowed properly. “Student Chu Xiaoyuan greets Teacher.”

“Not so fast,” said Shen. “I have a few questions for you first. If you can answer them, I’ll accept you.”

Zhongli Yu had just gone through the same test earlier. His foundation was solid—he had memorized the Standards for Being a Good Pupil and Child (Dizigui), was fluent in the Three Character Classic and The Thousand Character Text, and had begun studying The Hundred Family Surnames and Qionglin Primer.

(Translator’s Notes:Three Character Classic (三字经, Sānzìjīng) – A classic primer for children written in three-character verses. It teaches basic literacy, Confucian morals, and Chinese history, stressing virtues like filial piety, respect, and diligence in learning.)

(Translator’s Notes:The Thousand Character Text (千字文, Qiānzìwén) – A classic teaching text composed of exactly one thousand unique Chinese characters. Traditionally used to help children learn characters, it also imparts moral lessons, history, and cultural knowledge through rhythmic, easy-to-memorize lines.)

(Translator’s Notes: Hundred Family Surnames (百家姓, Bǎi Jiā Xìng) – A traditional primer listing common Chinese surnames, used historically to teach children characters and basic literacy.)

(Translator’s Notes: Qionglin Primer (琼林, Qiónglín) – A traditional educational primer used to teach students history, etiquette, and classical knowledge. It presents key cultural facts in concise, easy-to-memorize lines and was commonly studied alongside other basic texts like the Three Character Classic and Thousand Character Text.)

Xiaoyuan felt uneasy. He had only learned a little under his uncle’s guidance, barely recognizing some characters and reciting short passages. He wasn’t sure he could answer correctly.

Chu Ci gently nudged him forward and said softly, “It’s all right. Just answer what you know. Don’t pretend or try to be clever.”

“Mm.” Xiaoyuan nodded, then faced the teacher. “Please, sir, give me your questions. I’m ready.”

“Recite the first passage of Dizigui for me.”

(Translator’s Notes:Dizigui (弟子规) – Literally Standards for Being a Good Student and Child. A Qing Dynasty instructional text based on Confucius’s teachings. It outlines proper behavior, filial piety, respect, and moral conduct, serving as a guide for cultivating virtue and discipline in daily life. )

Relieved, Xiaoyuan immediately began, “When a child is taught, he follows the sage’s instruction: First be filial and respectful, then be cautious and trustworthy. Love everyone, but draw close to the virtuous. When strength remains, study the arts.”

Teacher Shen nodded approvingly. “Now tell me—what does ‘First be filial and respectful, then be cautious and trustworthy’ mean?”

“Um…” Xiaoyuan thought carefully. “My uncle said it means the sage teaches us to first be filial to our parents at home, respectful to our elders when outside, and to always act with honesty and faithfulness.”

“Then recite the first section of the Three Character Classic.”

Xiaoyuan’s face brightened—he knew this one too. He clasped his hands behind his back and recited clearly: “People at birth are naturally good… When Rong was four, he yielded the pear. Respect for elders should be learned first…”

“Very good.” Teacher Shen smiled. Then, after a moment’s thought, he asked another question.

“Since Kong Rong, at the age of four, was praised for giving up the larger pear, if today there were only one spot to enter school between you and him, would you give it up to him?”

Xiaoyuan blinked, turning his head to glance at Zhongli Yu, who looked just as tense—worried that if the older boy said no, he wouldn’t get in at all.

Chu Ci’s face cooled slightly. He looked sharply at Shen, only to find the man watching him calmly, expression open and free of malice.

It was a tricky question. If the boy said yes, it would mean his resolve to study was weak; if he said no, he’d seem arrogant and unvirtuous. For once, Chu Ci actually felt nervous.

“But…” Xiaoyuan said seriously after thinking, “wasn’t it the younger brother who gave the pear to the older one? I’m the older brother here, so shouldn’t you be asking the younger one instead?”

The child’s innocent reasoning caught Teacher Shen off guard. He froze for a moment, then laughed aloud. “You’re right—it was the teacher who was confused. I asked the wrong person. You’ve answered very well. I’ll take you as my student.”

Chu Ci’s impression of the man changed instantly. Anyone who could admit a mistake so frankly before his students was no fool. Whatever reason he had for the earlier question, it clearly hadn’t been malice.

Teacher Shen accepted the ceremonial gifts, gave a few words of instruction to both children, and then led them to the classroom to bow before the portraits of Confucius and the sages.

Outside, Steward Xu approached Chu Ci, who instinctively tensed. 

When the steward reached into his robe, Chu Ci almost assumed a Bruce Lee stance, ready to shout, “A-ta!”

But instead, a letter was handed to him. “Scholar Chu,” said Xu with a respectful bow, “allow me to introduce myself. I am the chief steward of the Kou household. My young master has met you once before—perhaps you remember?”

Kou Jing? Chu Ci immediately pictured that upright, soldier-like figure—the most imposing man he’d met since arriving in this world. That man had even helped him twice.

“So you’re from Brother Kou’s household,” Chu Ci said warmly. “He has twice lent me his aid, yet I’ve never been able to repay it. I’m ashamed.”

“Before my master left for the barracks,” said Xu, “he told me that Scholar Chu was a man of righteous spirit and loyalty. He said if our young master ever encountered trouble at the county academy, he could seek your help—and that you would surely not turn him away. My master has written you this letter himself. I never imagined fate would bring us together so soon.”

Chu Ci took the letter, thinking with some irony that for someone who’d seemed so cold and aloof, Kou Jing could certainly talk a lot once he started writing.

He opened it.

To Scholar Chu—Forgive my abrupt letter. Since our parting months ago, I have often recalled our conversations. My young nephew will soon begin schooling. As he is still a child, he may find it difficult to adjust. I hope, should you encounter him, that you might look after him a little. I would be deeply grateful. – Jing

Chu Ci sighed. The “Zhongli brother” he’d addressed so politely that day was, in fact, a boy barely reaching his thigh—shorter than even his own nephew.

Well, a debt was a debt. He owed Kou Jing twice already; one more favor made little difference. One sheep or two, they all graze together, he thought. He’d just tell Xiaoyuan to keep an eye on the pale little one and make sure no one bullied him.

As the saying went—if there’s work to be done, let the nephew handle it.

Of course, Kou Jing himself hadn’t expected Chu Ci’s nephew to also be enrolled at the same academy. The Children’s Hall was far removed from the scholars’ departments; he’d simply written that line out of courtesy, to defuse any sense of obligation.

But Steward Xu thought otherwise. Having caught hold of an opportunity, he was determined to make the most of it. If not for the academy’s strict rule forbidding family from staying with students, he would have moved in himself to care for his young master.

“Since he’s Brother Kou’s nephew,” Chu Ci said, “then he’s also my nephew. Rest assured, I’ll look after him.”

“Ah, with your word, I can finally relax!” Steward Xu said cheerfully. “You don’t know, Scholar Chu—our little master absolutely adores your paintings.”

“Oh?” Chu Ci raised an eyebrow. So it wasn’t the steward who had admired his artwork but the boy himself. A child with such advanced taste—he’d already developed an eye for beauty.

Steward Xu sighed softly, then briefly explained the young master’s situation. He spared the painful details, only saying that the woman Chu had painted by chance resembled the child’s late mother.

Chu Ci grew quiet. No wonder that portrait had earned fifty taels and a publishing license—it wasn’t mere appreciation; it had struck an emotional chord.

Just then, Teacher Shen reappeared with the two children, bringing the conversation to an end.

“The Children’s Hall will officially open on the fourteenth of the second month,” he announced. “Please bring the boys’ daily necessities on that day.”

Both men nodded.

Turning to Chu Ci, Shen added, “About earlier—please don’t take offense. I was asked to test your nephew. There was no malice meant. Someone merely wanted to see whether the nephew of a ‘Star of Literature’ was as promising as his uncle.”

Chu Ci was speechless. So that’s all it was—a test. He’d thought someone was trying to make trouble.

After being officially accepted as a student, Xiaoyuan’s spirits lifted. On their way back, he gazed curiously at everything around them, chattering now and then.

Chu Ci couldn’t help but smile. Ah, children really are simple creatures.

He bought him a few snacks from a street stall before returning to the Zhang Wenhai residence.

Inside the main hall, he found Zhang Wenhai and Madam Zhang locked in battle, the table and floor covered with travel supplies.

“Brother Chu, you’ve come just in time!” Wenhai exclaimed the moment he saw him. “Please talk some sense into my mother! I’m going to the county exam, not to war, but she’s determined to pack up the whole house!”

“Brother Zhang Wenhai, you’re mistaken,” said Chu Ci lightly. “Your mother only worries you might forget something vital. It’s her care that makes her overprepare. Instead of complaining, you should be grateful. Still,”—he turned to Madam Zhang —“the county exam is extremely strict. Every item brought inside must meet the regulations and will be searched thoroughly. Bringing too much will only delay the process—and that would be truly unfortunate.”

Both mother and son fell silent, realizing their own excesses. Master Zhang, standing aside, nodded in admiration. Not bad—he’d tried to mediate all afternoon with no success, yet one speech from Chu Ci settled the matter.

The household passed the night in peace.

The twelfth day of the second month—County Exam Day.

The courtyard outside the Scholars’ Hall was packed—three to four hundred candidates from every nearby town. Most were older men; few young faces stood out.

Only fifty would pass—roughly one in seven, a generous rate compared to the fierce odds in the southern provinces.

Zhang Wenhai paced anxiously near the carriage. “Why isn’t Jinyang here yet? Is he planning to rush in last minute? Brother Chu, what do you think he’s doing?”

“I don’t know…” Chu Ci yawned, his eyes half-closed, a small boy wrapped in a blanket asleep in his arms, cheeks flushed red.

Perhaps it was karma for torturing his students twice—because the night before, Xiaoyuan, too excited to sleep, had kept him up all night. He’d only just dozed off when Wenhai came knocking at dawn, begging him to accompany him to the exam.

Fine, he’d gone along. But when Xiaoyuan clung to him crying, unwilling to stay behind, he had no choice but to wrap the boy in a quilt and bring him along.

Fortunately, Fang Jinyang finally arrived.

Chu Ci noticed his flushed face—unnaturally red—but since Jinyang himself didn’t complain, he assumed it was from hurrying.

After a few quick words, the exam gates opened.

Wenhai and Jinyang grabbed their baskets, bowed, and disappeared into the crowd of examinees.

The procedure was exactly like the mock exams Chu Ci had drilled them through. Sitting down in their assigned cubicles, their hearts slowly steadied. After months of study, today was the day to prove themselves.

Chu Ci’s voice echoed in their minds—Your time has come.

“Go back and rest,” Zhang Wenhai’s father told Chu Ci, but the scholar waved it off and headed home to nap anyway.

By late afternoon, refreshed and carrying Xiaoyuan, Chu Ci returned to the Scholars’ Hall to await their exit.

When the three bells sounded, the exam ended.

Wenhai was one of the first out—grinning ear to ear. The classics and essay portions had gone smoothly, the mathematical questions were manageable, and the essay topic—astonishingly—was the same one Chu Ci had given them during practice.

He had never taken such an easy exam in his life. He strutted out, radiating joy, earning envious glares from nearby candidates.

“Brother Chu, you’re here!” Wenhai called, running straight toward him—ignoring his own parents waiting nearby. 

The couple looked deflated; how could a tutor outshine the parents themselves?

“Judging by that face, you must have nailed it. Congratulations in advance,” Chu Ci teased.

Wenhai tried to hide his grin but couldn’t help it. He looked around. “Where’s Jinyang? Hasn’t he come out yet?”

By now, most of the candidates had already left. Everyone’s eyes turned toward the still-closed gates.

At last, two guards emerged—supporting a pale Fang Jinyang between them.

Wenhai and Chu Ci rushed forward. The moment Jinyang saw them, his eyes filled with tears. “Wenhai… Brother Chu… I don’t think I passed this time either!”

Then his knees buckled and he collapsed.

The guards, clearly used to such incidents, said calmly, “This candidate fainted midway through the exam. Take him home and let him rest. He can try again next year.”

“Thank you, sir,” Chu Ci said, bowing. He and Wenhai lifted Jinyang onto the carriage and hurried to the Fang Jinyang residence.

At the other end of the examination yard, Mr. and Mrs. Fang Jinyang had also been anxiously waiting. When they saw their son carried out unconscious, both nearly fainted themselves.

“My poor boy!” Madam Fang cried, ordering the servant Shitou to drive home at once.

“The young man likely started running a fever last night,” the old physician said after examining him. “He forced himself through the exam today. He’ll need rest and medicine. Boil this prescription—four bowls down to one—and have him drink it.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

With a sigh, the physician left.

Master Fang turned to Chu Ci and Wenhai. “My son’s always been frail. We pushed him too hard, and now he suffers for it. If not for you two helping him back safely, who knows what might have happened. You have my deepest thanks.”

“Please, sir, don’t!” They both hurried to stop him from bowing.

“But… I don’t understand,” Wenhai said frowning. “Brother Chu, Jinyang never seemed sick before. He was fine at my house for weeks—how did he fall ill after just two days at home? Could there be something wrong with the house’s feng shui?”

“Brother Zhang Wenhai!” Chu Ci cut him off sharply. “Don’t say such things aloud. Do you want trouble?!”

Wenhai quickly shut his mouth.

The tension in the room hung thick—like the first whisper of a storm yet to break.