Traveling Through Ancient Times to Be a Teacher - Chapter 43

Chu Ci was helping Chu Xiaoyuan unpack their belongings when Steward Xu finished arranging Zhongli Yu’s things and came over to lend a hand.

The steward, long accustomed to such chores, moved with practiced efficiency. With his help, Chu Ci saved a great deal of trouble—truth be told, he had never learned how to sew bedding properly.

Suddenly, the dormitory door swung open. A young scholar entered, glanced around, then stepped out to check the room number. After confirming it, he came back in and said coldly, “Brother, are these your family members? They’re not supposed to be staying here overnight, are they?”

“No. These two are students of the Children’s Hall. The younger one is my nephew, so we were assigned the same room.”

“Children are noisy by nature. If they disturb our studies day after day, how are we supposed to focus? Did the Headmaster actually approve of this nonsense?”

“This is my oversight,” Chu Ci said calmly. “Let’s do this—why don’t I switch dormitories with you, and then I’ll rent this room’s remaining space myself? That way, you won’t be disturbed.”

Had it just been him and Chu Xiaoyuan, he could have promised absolute quiet. But with the young master Zhongli Yu added to the mix, the two boys were bound to play now and then. Best to keep to themselves.

“Hmph, so you think a few taels of silver make you special?” the scholar sneered before storming off to exchange his token.

Chu Ci could only smile helplessly. It was indeed an oversight on their part—but who would have thought the day would come when he’d be scolded for having too much money? Well, he supposed, wealth did make things easier.

He went to report the situation to the tutor, who said he would need the Headmaster’s approval. So Chu Ci went directly to Headmaster Kong.

This time, the Headmaster was in good humor and agreed readily. After all, the academy had plenty of rooms. While they discouraged private lodging, if someone insisted for good reason, they wouldn’t refuse.

After paying the additional fee, Chu Ci finally felt at ease. 

That afternoon, the Children’s Hall would hold its opening ceremony, and attendants were already calling students to gather. Steward Xu, though reluctant, had to take his leave.

Once he was gone, Zhongli Yu sat on the bed, looking as though he were on the verge of tears. Every so often, he would sneak a glance at Chu Ci and Chu Xiaoyuan, then quickly turn away—an act far less subtle than he imagined.

“Ahem. It’s getting late; let’s go eat,” said Chu Ci.

“Okay! I’m eating a big bowl of rice today,” declared Chu Xiaoyuan, his stomach already growling from the morning’s work.

“What about you, Young Friend Zhongli?”

Hearing himself addressed so formally, Zhongli Yu blushed shyly. Remembering what Steward Xu had told him—that he must respect this Uncle Chu—he said, “Uncle Chu, you can call me Yu’er.”

“All right then. Yu’er, Xiaoyuan—let’s go eat.” Chu Ci took one small hand in each of his and brought his lunch box along to the academy canteen.

The meals were divided into three classes—Grade A, Grade B, and Grade C.

Grade A was one meat dish, two vegetables, and white rice, for 25 copper coins per meal. Grade B was one meat, one vegetable, and white rice, for 20 coins. Grade C was two vegetables and coarse rice, for 12 coins.

In the past, Chu Ci had only ever eaten Grade C. The others were far too expensive. Even so, the C meals were better than anything at home—occasionally stir-fried with leftover oil residue after refining.

Though the students could afford tuition, not all came from wealthy families. Those who ate Grade C were usually the last to line up, heads lowered, hoping not to be noticed.

Chu Ci looked over the menu and asked the two boys’ opinions. Zhongli Yu immediately pointed at two of the meat dishes from Grades A and B, saying he wanted both. Chu Xiaoyuan glanced at the prices and firmly insisted on Grade C.

In the end, Chu Ci sent his box forward and ordered three Grade A meals. They could afford it now.

Between the fifty taels he’d received from the Zhang Wenhai family and the income from his exam collection book, his finances were comfortable. His share was one-fifth of the net profits after expenses—and with sales likely around three to four thousand copies, his cut could easily reach a hundred taels.

That money would be enough to rebuild the family house. 

While he and Xiaoyuan were away, his mother and brother’s family could rent a place nearby until construction finished. By the time the house was ready, the new baby girl should be born.

After eating, they returned to the dormitory to rest a while. Then Chu Ci packed the boys’ bags and sent them off to the Children’s Hall.

The hall was about a fifteen-minute walk from the Preparatory Division, connected by a small northwestern gate. It was usually closed, opened only for mealtimes for half an hour.

There was a night curfew as well. Any student failing to return on time would have his name recorded, and after three violations, expelled. For special cases like Xiaoyuan and Yu’er, registration with the tutor and gatekeeper was required.

“Xiaoyuan, you must listen to your teachers and behave yourself. I’ll come fetch you both this evening,” Chu Ci said, crouching to pat his nephew’s head.

Despite his little adult act, Xiaoyuan was still only eight.

Beside him, Zhongli Yu lowered his head, sniffling softly. His father had never spoken so gently to him; he had no uncles, only a fierce young maternal uncle. Poor child indeed.

Realizing his oversight, Chu Ci smiled and touched the boy’s head. “Yu’er, stay close to Brother Xiaoyuan, and sit together in class. Uncle Chu will come pick you up after lessons.”

“Yes, Uncle Chu! I’ll behave!” Yu’er looked up with a bright, sweet smile.

Chu Xiaoyuan gave a small, disdainful hum—clearly unimpressed by the little flatterer.

After watching the two go in, Chu Ci gathered his things and went to see his tutors. The Preparatory Division classes hadn’t started yet—they had to wait until the county examinations concluded for the year.

February 15 – Prefectural Examination.

Normally, the prefectural and academy exams were held at Ganzhou Prefecture, but because of the distance and the tight schedule, as well as past incidents of students being robbed and killed on the road, the government had since changed the rule.

Now, examiners were dispatched to each county to oversee the prefectural test, while all papers were later graded together at one central location. This year, Yuanshan County was selected.

The prefectural exam was the hardest stage; the county exam came next, and the academy exam was the simplest.

From Yuanshan County, the fifty recent passers were joined by twenty from last year who hadn’t advanced. Technically only forty-nine needed to sit, since the top scorer of the county exam automatically passed the prefectural one, and the top scorer of the prefectural exam automatically advanced to the academy exam.

Still, most top scorers wanted to earn the triple crown—County, Prefecture, and Academy Firsts, a “Minor Threefold Honor” that brought great prestige.

When the test began, Zhang Wenhai was not as confident as last time; the miscellaneous essay topic was entirely unfamiliar. Though he wrote something, he doubted it matched the polished pieces Chu Ci had once corrected. 

Fang Jinyang, on the other hand, seemed calm and composed, his earlier gloom completely gone.

Ganzhou Prefecture had seven counties, each sending seventy to eighty candidates. Of these, only one hundred would advance to the academy level, and fifty would earn the scholar (xiucai) rank. The competition was fierce—everyone here had already passed the county stage.

On February 17, the results were posted. Each county office received a copy of the official list, compiled and ranked by the group of examiners.

When the notice was put up, all eyes were on it.

“Yuanshan County—Yong’an Town’s Fang Jinyang, first place!” someone shouted. 

The crowd erupted in surprise and excitement—this year’s top scholar was local!

“Fang Jinyang ? Wait—wasn’t he last place in the county exam? How could he suddenly come out first now?” a scholar cried indignantly.

“Yes, I remember that too!”

“The former top scorer, Qi Zhigao, only placed sixth this time. How could Fang Jinyang leap so high in just a few days?”

The murmuring grew louder, swelling into shouts. Accusations of “unfair examination” spread like wildfire. Fang Jinyang, who moments ago had been overwhelmed with joy, now stood frozen in confusion.

Zhang Wenhai, ranked thirty-second this time, was content enough—until he heard the angry voices attacking his friend. Rage rose in him.

“Jinyang, he—mmph!”

Before he could finish, a hand clamped over his mouth. 

Chu Ci had appeared from nowhere, expression grave. He signaled Wenhai to stay silent and gestured for them both to follow.

Amid the chaos, the three quietly slipped away. Luckily, few in the crowd knew who Fang Jinyang actually was, or he might have been drowned in spittle before leaving the square.

When they reached a quiet corner, Wenhai burst out, “Brother Chu! Why stop me from defending him? Shouldn’t we clear Jinyang’s name?”

“And do you think they’d listen to reason right now?” Chu Ci said sharply. “The more you explain, the worse it’ll get. When anger boils over, words won’t calm it—only fists. Unless you’ve got Lü Bu’s strength to back up Zhuge Liang’s tongue, you’d best save your breath.”

Then, more evenly, he added, “Besides, that was the county yamen gate. Their shouting will draw the officials soon enough. Once they do, we can appeal properly before the County Magistrate himself. And remember—Fang Jinyang was personally selected by the magistrate.”

The mob outside, still shouting “Unfair! Injustice in the exams!” soon reached a fever pitch. Even students who had failed the county exam came to join, claiming Jinyang’s success had stolen their place.

Inside the yamen, officials were resting when the guards rushed in to report. 

The magistrate’s face darkened. “These scholars are getting out of hand—how dare they raise a clamor at the courthouse and question the examiners’ judgment? Arrest the loudest ones first!”

The supervising examiners from Ganzhou were still present; if the magistrate couldn’t control his own county, his reputation would be ruined. And since these troublemakers weren’t yet qualified scholars—mere civilians—he could arrest them at will.

“Milord, that may not be wise,” the adviser cautioned immediately. “If it were only a handful, a few arrests would suffice. But now there are over a hundred gathered. If you seize anyone, the mob may riot. Better to calm them first—otherwise, the situation will spiral out of control.”

The magistrate scowled, torn between fury and prudence. His adviser’s words were sound; one misstep now could cost him dearly.