Volume One: From Farmer to Gentleman Chapter 12: The Word "Mooching"

Half a month passed in the blink of an eye.

The private school had a rule: every fifteen days, there was a day of rest. Today, Chu Liu experienced his first "weekend" in this life.

At dawn, Chu Liu was already outside, pulling weeds and feeding his chickens and pigs. This was an essential source of income for the family and could not be neglected. Every day after returning from school, he would go to the chicken coop, take time to compost, check if the hens were laying eggs normally, and see what food had been given.

His eldest sister, Yezi, originally planned to pull weeds herself, but when she saw a full basket of young grass, she knew her brother had risen early and brought it back. Only then did she remember that Chu Liu didn’t have to go to school today.

Yet she didn’t express gratitude. Instead, she said angrily, "Chu Liu, today you chop the grass and mix the feed. In our house, the chickens and pigs are all yours..."

Second sister Caixin, holding their younger sister Yadan, chimed in, "Exactly! We toil from dawn till dusk, and whenever the hens lay eggs, it's all credited to you..."

Chu Liu knew his sisters harbored resentment. Now that he attended school, raising chickens and pigs fell to his sisters, increasing their workload. The family favored sons over daughters, and Chu Liu couldn’t change that, so today he took the initiative to do all the chores.

"Sisters, please rest. I'll handle everything today. I know you've suffered lately, but it's only temporary. Once I pass the imperial exams and earn honors, I'll buy you the finest rouge and powder, four new sets of clothes for each season..."

As it turned out, painting a bright future could indeed warm the heart.

"Chu Liu, hurry and study. Caixin and I will take care of the chickens and pigs," Yezi said.

"Yes, these little chores are nothing; we’ll finish them in no time. Go study. I'll put Yadan on the kang to nap," Caixin added.

Neither sister was skilled at sweet words, but the light in their eyes was bright, filled with sincerity and hope.

After lunch, Chu Liu sat beneath the shade of the trees, teaching a group of children how to write.

"Today, I'll teach you three characters: Heaven, Earth, and Man."

He found a half-charred stick in the stove and carefully wrote the three characters on the ground, reading them aloud and pointing them out for the children, guiding them stroke by stroke.

Wang Cuicui watched Chu Liu with loving eyes. She hadn’t intended to interrupt, but seeing her granddaughters, Yezi and Caixin, with pigtails and earnest expressions as they learned, she couldn’t help saying, "Yezi, Caixin, what are you learning? Get back to work!"

The two girls were about to leave, but Chu Liu persuaded, "Grandmother, though women can’t take the imperial exams, knowing how to read and write has many benefits. At least, after marriage, they won’t be so easily bullied."

Wang Cuicui said no more.

It was often said that teaching girls to read and write was advantageous—ultimately, it meant bringing honor to their natal family when they married. If they married into a good family, they might keep the accounts; but in a rogue household, literacy could become a burden. Which man liked a wife smarter than himself? But now, she chose to trust her grandson.

Fatty Dun heard that Chu Liu had the day off and came to play, unexpectedly learning the three characters as well. He bounced home, excitedly shouting, "Mother, I learned three characters—Heaven, Earth, and Man! Chu Liu taught me. I’ll write them for you now..."

"Go play somewhere else! Who cares for three characters?" Ma Fengya glared at her son, grumbling bitterly, "We saved people together in the river, so why can Chu Liu attend school and not my child? The Su family is so partial, relying on connections and favoritism. Don’t they fear retribution?"

Her husband, Xie Dazhu, finally had enough and interrupted her complaints.

"You foolish woman, be content. The Su family gave us rice, cloth, and meat—did you feed them to the dogs? Dunzi is destined for farm work, not holding a pen. If he goes to school, who’ll feed the chickens and pigs or gather firewood for you?"

Ma Fengya envied how Chu Liu’s family had a dozen eggs every day; she also raised a dozen chickens for Fatty Dun to feed. They were both Xie family descendants—why couldn’t her son be as fortunate?

But things never went as one wished. Chu Liu’s hens clucked happily every day, while hers rarely sang. She blamed it on the people, and this often led to quarrels between husband and wife.

Xie Dazhu continued, "Besides, Chu Liu is a clever child. If he succeeds in life, our family will benefit too. We share the same ancestor, so stop nitpicking..."

"Enough! I can’t rely on my own man, let alone a nephew. If I were a man, I’d go ask Doumiao why Dunzi can’t go to school—I'd demand justice, even if it meant shouting!"

"You’re a man? Try peeing standing up!" Xie Dazhu, unable to reason with his wife, snapped back, storming out to the fields.

"Just vent your anger on me!" Ma Fengya muttered, leaving Fatty Dun behind and heading to the chicken coop.

Chu Liu decided to practice brush calligraphy in secret.

He ground the ink and prepared the paper, thinking it should go smoothly, but it felt awkward. A slip of the brush stained the paper, leaving a mess. In his previous life, he’d taken a calligraphy elective in college, learned a few techniques, scraped by with a passing grade, and hadn’t touched a brush since.

Each sheet of paper cost three coins—he couldn’t afford to waste any. So he practiced with a twig in the sand first, writing the characters several times until confident, then moved to the paper.

After several tries, the characters looked neat enough, but calling it calligraphy would be an exaggeration. He knew he needed to seek instruction from Wen Lancang.

"Teacher, I want to learn brush calligraphy from you."

Wen Lancang asked, "Have you written with a brush before?"

Chu Liu replied sheepishly, "Teacher, I’ve tried secretly, but my characters aren’t pretty."

"Write a character for me."

Chu Liu took a deep breath, picked up the brush, dipped it in ink, and focused. He wrote the character "Eternity" on the paper.

When he’d taken calligraphy in college, the first lesson had been about "Eternity." It contained the eight fundamental strokes—dot, horizontal, vertical, left-falling, right-falling, rising, turning, and hook—forming the rules of brush technique. He hadn’t paid much attention then, and now regretted it.

Wen Lancang frowned slightly and, after pondering, said, "Though you’re a beginner, your strokes are methodical, giving a sense of familiarity. Yet the characters lack the expected charm."

"How to put it? There’s a contradiction—you seem to have talent, but there’s something off, as if you’re out of place."

"Come, let me show you how to write the character for ‘Eternity.’"