Chapter Thirty-Seven: No Years Pass in the Mountains, Yet the Thatched Cottage Knows Spring and Autumn

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PS: A new volume begins—hee hee—please send your recommendation votes! If we surpass two hundred today, I’ll add another chapter! My demands are really quite modest.

The monthly exams were always a trial for Lu Hong’s personal disciples. Although the Lu Schoolhouse now had nearly a hundred students attending lectures, most failed to pass the three-part Lu examination and couldn’t secure a recommendation letter from any renowned scholar or master. Thus, they could only listen as auditors, coming and going as they pleased, with no qualification to take the monthly test. Those who were eligible began their preparations in earnest as the exam approached. After all, every test was composed personally by Lu Hong, and each paper was tailored to the student’s chosen field of study. Cheating was not only shameful but practically impossible.

For this reason, even though this was far from his first monthly exam, Cui Jianxuan still insisted on pulling Du Shiyi through two consecutive all-nighters. By the time he finally finished writing, and watched with bleary eyes as the eldest senior brother collected their papers with a cheerful smile, his dark-rimmed eyes could no longer suppress a gigantic yawn. Exhausted, he reclined and groaned, “Other than the poetry assignment, we study the same things, so why must we have two different exam papers? Isn’t Master Lu just making extra work for himself? It’s so unfair—Heaven knows how hard I worked to cram all those books…”

As he lay on his back and watched Du Shiyi stand up and stretch lazily, not nearly as spent as himself, he couldn’t help but spring upright. Glancing at the towering stacks of thread-bound books on the desks, he gasped, “I really don’t know where you get all this energy. Just think how many books you’ve copied in the past few months! You attend lectures, submit regular assignments, climb mountains, visit Thirteenth Lady, and take the monthly exams—how do you find the time? Yet you let that Liu Ximing spread rumors outside that you’ve lost your talent. You—You’re…”

Hearing Cui Jianxuan stumble for words, unable to find the right phrase, Du Shiyi smiled, eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to say I’m just playing the fool to hide my strength?”

“Yes! Exactly! Playing the fool to eat the tiger—that’s a perfect description!” Cui Jianxuan slapped the mat beneath him with such force that his hand stung from the rebound. Grimacing and rubbing his palm, he grumbled, “I knew it, you were up to something all along!”

“I’m someone who can’t even compose a poem now—I must have lost my touch.” Du Shiyi ignored Cui Jianxuan’s glare, turning instead to the book desk. He opened the thread-bound volumes he had painstakingly copied and bound by hand, feeling a surge of indescribable satisfaction. Ever since Gongsun the Dancer had departed, his days—aside from regular visits to check on Lady Du the Thirteenth, attending lectures, and private tutorials in history with Lu Hong—had been spent in seclusion, copying books with single-minded devotion. The reason was simple: for every book he transcribed, he retained it in its entirety in his memory. Months had passed in this way, and from the piles of hand-copied texts—“The Spring and Autumn Annals, Commentary of Gongyang,” “Zuo’s Commentary,” “Chronicles of Wu and Yue,” multiple volumes of “Records of the Grand Historian,” and the twenty-nine volumes of “Annotations on the Yonghui Code”—one could see the extent of his hard work.

Of course, had it not been for Lu Hong and his senior brothers, especially Lu Wangzhi, lending their treasured books, he could never have copied so many. After all, the “Annotations on the Yonghui Code” were not easily found, especially in a school where most aspired to be elegant literati, not legal officials.

Now, many impoverished students who attended lectures as auditors had begun imitating him, copying and reading books in thread-bound form. Among them, his diligence had already made him a model to follow.

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Cui Jianxuan, seeing Du Shiyi’s back as he caressed his books, suddenly asked, “Hey, Du Nineteen, when are you planning to go to Shaolin Monastery at Mount Shaoshi, as Lady Gongsun suggested?”

At this, Du Shiyi’s hand paused. His impression of Shaolin was, if anything, overly vivid, and it took him a moment to recover before he turned and smiled. “Why? Are you planning to abandon your studies here for swordsmanship?”

“Why not do both?” Cui Jianxuan puffed out his chest with confidence, and continued self-righteously, “A man must be both a general and a minister! What good is learning if you have no strength? I’ve ridden horses and shot arrows since childhood, and even practiced swordsmanship with two teachers for a while. If my mother hadn’t convinced my grandmother to send me here, I might already be quite accomplished! Besides, Master Lu is not one to stick to rigid rules. His lectures are always clear and approachable. If we explain ourselves, he’ll surely agree!”

“We’ll see after the monthly exam results are out.” When he saw Cui Jianxuan’s face instantly fall, Du Shiyi couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s the matter? Are you not confident in your exam?”

“Bah! Don’t jinx it!” Cui Jianxuan shot him a glare, and, unable to fight off his drowsiness any longer, stood up and headed straight for the west room, calling out without turning back, “Sleep is the most important thing in the world… Two days without rest—I must sleep till I’m satisfied! I warn you, don’t wake me, or I won’t be polite!”

Soon, the sound of something heavy hitting the bamboo bed, followed by rustling, and finally evolving into a chorus of snores, made Du Shiyi sigh inwardly. Cui Jianxuan was nothing like his appearance suggested—far from a clever tongue and delicate mind, he was blunt and forthright, and even fell asleep faster than anyone. With only the last section of the “Annotations on the Yonghui Code” left to copy, Du Shiyi rubbed his temples and went to the desk by the window.

Since copying books was already grueling enough, he saw no reason to make life harder for himself, so he’d had Tian Mo make a set of tables and chairs and bring them in. When they first arrived, there had been much criticism, but seeing how convenient it made copying, some of the poorer students, eager to take copies of books home with them, came to study the setup and soon made their own versions.

After copying half a page, he settled into a focused calm. Outside, the voices of auditor students, the chatter of those who’d finished the exam, and the sounds of reading drifted through, but he barely noticed. When his wrist ached, he paused to rub his elbow, quietly recited what he’d just copied, and resumed when rested. If thirst struck, he drank from the white porcelain jar at his side, losing all sense of time.

Outside the thatched cottage, Pei Ning and Lu Wangzhi stood side by side, watching. Lu Wangzhi said with a smile, “Our little brother hasn’t stopped copying books these past months; the thread-bound volumes cover the entire desk. I once quizzed him on a whim, and he could recite them all backwards. Diligence breeds skill, indeed. I glanced at his exam papers on the way to Master Lu, and his answers were all uniquely insightful.”

“If he can’t pass the monthly exam, all of Master Lu’s effort will have been for nothing. It’s a shame about Cui Eleven—so lazy. He’s always with Du Nineteen, but why can’t he learn from Du Nineteen’s diligence?” Pei Ning’s tone was one of exasperation. Suddenly catching sight of the slight smile on Lu Wangzhi’s face, he frowned and said, “Eldest brother, don’t tell me that Cui Eleven has only picked up your laziness and disregard for appearances?”

“What kind of talk is that, Third Brother? If Eleven wants to learn from me, he should learn my brilliant writing, shouldn’t he?” Lu Wangzhi replied with a grin. Seeing Pei Ning’s face turn even colder, he continued unhurriedly, “Everyone treats you as the disciplinarian of our schoolhouse, but you shouldn’t keep such a stern face. You secretly keep an eye on our little brother’s writing supplies and always replenish them when needed, so why are you always so critical in front of him? Even when Eleven was burning the midnight oil, you paced outside the cottage, but you still act so cold. Why bother?”

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Pei Ning’s face changed several times before he finally snapped, “I just don’t want anyone to bring disgrace to Master Lu’s name! In any case, eldest brother, you set a good example. I’ll be off!”

As Pei Ning strode away, Lu Wangzhi stroked his short beard with a chuckle, then yawned and muttered to himself, “Spring makes one sleepy, but I never thought autumn would too… Where does our little brother get all that energy? It’s been several months already; the great mourning in Chang’an should be over by now.”

The news of the retired emperor’s passing in June caused hardly a stir in the Lu Schoolhouse, and was of less concern than the locust plague that had finally been contained in Shandong, Henan, and Hebei. Even Du Shiyi felt little for the late Emperor Li Dan, who had abdicated years ago and now died in Chang’an; his only thought was that Li Dan and his brother Li Xian had truly led turbulent lives. That evening, after he finally finished copying the thirtieth volume of the “Annotations on the Yonghui Code,” Du Shiyi let out a long sigh and, without thinking, tossed his brush into the brush washer, stood up, and stretched his back and legs.

“Little brother, Master Lu wants to see you in the thatched cottage!”

Hearing the call from outside, Du Shiyi started, quickly pressed a paperweight onto the still-wet hemp paper, and hurried out. After the successful eye surgery with the golden needle, Lu Hong had moved out of the cave, and with the help of his disciples, built a more spacious thatched house northwest of the waterfall. Now, pushing aside the thick curtain and entering, Du Shiyi saw Lu Hong sitting at the central seat and bowed deeply in greeting.

“Master Lu.”

“Sit, there’s no need for formality.” Seeing Du Shiyi kneel and sit, Lu Hong spoke, “You’ve been here more than three months now, and your diligence is unmatched among the students. I am gratified. But you push yourself too hard, climbing mountains at dawn, copying nearly ten thousand characters daily, never missing a lecture. Brother Sima said you only recently recovered from a serious illness, so you shouldn’t overdo it.”

Before Du Shiyi could protest, Lu Hong continued firmly, “Your exam answers were impeccable, but you mustn’t immerse yourself in study alone. Cultivate other interests as well. From tomorrow, learn the pipa from your third senior brother. There’s a music score from Brother Sima on the desk—when you can play it well on the pipa, you’ll be considered proficient. As for the instrument itself, your eldest brother has two—borrow one and start.”

Only after Du Shiyi, with a complicated expression, left the thatched cottage did Lu Hong chuckle and stroke his neatly groomed beard. Diligence and eagerness to learn were admirable, but life must have balance. Besides, Pei Ning’s overly strict nature needed someone to temper it—though Du Shiyi alone might not suffice…