Chapter 43: The Lotus Viewing Banquet, Scholar Gu Stirs Trouble

Li Su’s lips curved with a faint smile. “Chen Ping, are you sure you really want me to go?” By then, don’t regret it—having to spend money, effort, and favors just to make him famous and prop him up.

“Of course I want you to go!” Chen Ping replied immediately, though in his heart he thought Li Su was foolish for agreeing so easily after just a little prodding.

Lin Ze opened his mouth but said nothing. Judging from Su-ge’s demeanor, he was clearly not as Chen Ping imagined.

Lin Xi and Chen Ping were likely to embarrass themselves again. Lin Ze quickly said, “Su-ge, if you go, I’ll go too.” Seeing Lin Xi unhappy made him glad; how could he miss such a chance?

Ren Shuhua and Qin Ming chimed in as well, “If Su-ge goes, we’ll go too.” They all wanted to witness Su-ge shine.

Li Su nodded at Chen Ping. “Very well. Then I’ll go.”

Chen Ping couldn’t help laughing. “That’s more like it! It’s a rare opportunity to exchange ideas with Scholar Gu.” At that time, Lin Xi would have Scholar Gu criticize Li Su in public—let’s see if Li Su would still have the face to call himself a genius.

In reality, Li Su had never claimed to be a genius; that was all rumor.

This time, because a scholar would be attending, not only the students but also many teachers would come. Everyone wanted to make an impression. If a talented teacher took a liking to them and accepted them as a disciple, their chances of passing the qualifying exams would greatly increase.

A teacher might have dozens of students, but would only accept a few true disciples.

To stand out, the students were not only preparing to compose poetry, but also to debate on topics from Confucian classics, historical events, and literature. Whoever distinguished themselves would become the center of attention and naturally attract the teachers’ interest.

The students cared deeply about this lotus appreciation gathering, and many had already been secretly preparing their poems on the subject.

Li Su merely noted the time and, as usual, continued his studies, undisturbed by this event.

When the day came, he would deal with whatever happened.

Xi Sheng had also heard about the event. Knowing that Li Su would attend, he had Uncle Lin secure the best spot for him, while making sure no one else knew of his presence.

Uncle Lin was well-practiced at such tasks and made the arrangements with ease.

Xi Sheng glanced at Li Su, who was practicing his calligraphy. “Don’t embarrass me. Otherwise, don’t call yourself my disciple.”

Li Su paused, looking up at Xi Sheng. “Master, even if I don’t perform well, I’m still your disciple. Don’t think you can get rid of me so easily.”

Xi Sheng was speechless. This rascal! His point was to urge him to do his best!

“Write three policy essays today,” Xi Sheng ordered coldly.

Li Su’s hand stiffened around the brush, his lips twitching. Ruthless!

It took all his effort to compose two essays in a day. His main problem was still apparent: though he’d read a lot, when it came time to use his knowledge, he couldn’t always pick the best points, and sometimes his mind became muddled. Practice helped, but overdoing it could lead to fatigue—like now.

“Master, let’s negotiate…” Li Su tried to bargain for just two essays. His master was a real devil—three essays a day! Who ever treated their disciple like that?

For them, “three essays” meant three that met the standard. Anything subpar didn’t count and had to be rewritten.

And as Li Su improved, Xi Sheng’s standards kept rising.

Just hearing “three policy essays” gave Li Su a headache. This was his weak point; even native students of this era wouldn’t practice three essays a day! Was his master treating him like a Japanese soldier, working him to death?

“No. If you have time to bargain, you might as well start writing sooner.” Xi Sheng was merciless. “From today on, make it three essays per day.”

Xi Sheng thought his plan was quite reasonable. One essay a day had lasted for two months, two per day for one month. Now that Li Su was used to it, three per day until the exams.

Li Su was stunned.

“Master, who else writes three policy essays a day? Aren’t you afraid I’ll get worse with the quantity?” Li Su tried to reason with him.

Xi Sheng snorted. “I don’t care what others do. You’re my disciple—three essays means three essays.”

Li Su’s situation was different from other students. Besides, Xi Sheng didn’t think Li Su would suffer from overwork; on the contrary, he would only get better. The more pressure, the greater his potential.

Li Su was silent. So, if it doesn’t kill him, just work him to death?

“Fine, I’ll write!” Li Su gritted his teeth. He had chosen this master—he would finish his studies even if it made him cry.

Li Su’s daily routine consisted of reading, practicing calligraphy, and writing policy essays.

Xi Sheng didn’t worry about Li Su’s poetry. He had given him many themes, and every poem was excellent. He suspected Li Su’s poetic talent might even surpass his own.

Li Su also had ingenious methods for solving math problems; no question was too difficult for him.

He had a remarkable memory too—he could recite anything after reading it once, and no matter how he was tested, he could answer. Thanks to this gift, everything he read was stored clearly in his mind, growing ever richer. Someday, he would reach a truly formidable level.

As long as his essays and handwriting reached the highest standard, the other candidates would question their life choices when they took the exams alongside him.

When Li Su finished three essays, he felt utterly drained, completely spent.

“I told you, three essays is no problem for you. Go rest,” Xi Sheng said, satisfied with his prediction.

Li Su stared at Xi Sheng for a moment. Perhaps he should have pretended he couldn’t do it?

Three essays a day it was. Although none of his peers wrote that much, they had been practicing for many more years than he had. If he wrote a few more, he might just catch up.

Having completed his tasks for the day, Li Su went to rest and soon fell asleep.

…

The day of the lotus appreciation arrived in the blink of an eye. The venue was the lotus pond in Scholar Gu’s backyard. This time, far more people attended than the previous poetry gathering, thanks to the presence of a scholar.

Lin Xi stood beside Scholar Gu, receiving many envious glances from the other students. He stood tall, his expression tinged with barely concealed pride.

Scholar Gu asked, “Xiao Xi, who is the person you mentioned?”

Lin Xi pointed toward Li Su. “It’s him. Just because he wrote a poem about farming, he disregards me, says I’m not as good at poetry as he is, and even insults your teaching. I was angry, but since he’s friends with my brother and my father forbade me from confronting him, I let it go. But when he spoke of you, Master, I just couldn’t swallow my anger.”

It was by saying this that Lin Xi had persuaded Scholar Gu to host the lotus appreciation banquet.

Scholar Gu shot a disdainful glance at Li Su. To insult his disciple was bad enough, but to slander him as a teacher—what was this, a nobody who hadn’t even passed the qualifying exam, yet with one poem and a little fame, he looked down on everyone?

How absurd!

Putting on a refined, scholarly smile, Scholar Gu announced, “Which one of you is Li Su?”