Chapter Forty-Six: The Aging Scholar Who Never Passed

Lv Xingchuan’s family lived in Shulu Village, which lay slightly north of east from Baiyun Village, right next to Zhaozhuang, and less than five li from Baiyue Village.

His father was the portly old man that Zhou Zhi had seen earlier at Physician Qiu Huichun’s house, by the name of Lv Qiushan. In his younger years, Lv Qiushan had partnered with others in several horse trading ventures, amassing a modest fortune, with which he bought farmland in Shulu Village.

Now, the Lv family owned over two hundred mu of good land. Though their days were not extravagant and they could not compare with wealthy households like the Chen and Yue families of Baiyue Village, they were certainly considered prosperous and well-off.

As a child, Lv Xingchuan was frail and thin, unable to join his father in business. Thus, Lv Qiushan sent him to study with his aunt in Xin County, hoping he might pursue the imperial examinations. If he could win a scholarly title, what honor would that bring the family! From an early age, Lv Xingchuan studied diligently. At eighteen, he returned home to take the preliminary exams, passing both the county and prefectural levels. However, he stumbled at the academy examination, earning only the status of a tongsheng—a mere student.

To become a tongsheng at eighteen was, in truth, a respectable achievement. He could remain at home, continue his studies, and take the next round of exams in two years’ time. With nearly two more years of learning, it seemed almost certain that he would become a xiucai, a licentiate.

The preliminary exams were held twice every three years. Yet after becoming a tongsheng at eighteen, Lv Xingchuan kept taking the exams until he was thirty-eight, going through many rounds, but the title of xiucai always eluded him—he remained an aging candidate, still a tongsheng.

Whenever this was mentioned, Lv Xingchuan felt deeply awkward and troubled. Over the years, he became acquainted with the county yamen’s registrar and secured a post as a group leader. Yet his heart was set on the imperial examinations; the group leader position mattered little to him. He spent most of his years at home, studying hard, rarely showing himself in public.

Having recounted his story, Lv Xingchuan concluded with a long, weary sigh.

Zhou Zhi could not help but sigh as well. “White-haired tongsheng” and “venerable licentiate” were not just idle words—here was a living example before him.

There was little Zhou Zhi could do for Lv Xingchuan and his tireless but fruitless studies. The civil service examinations were notoriously difficult; the only recourse was to study harder and harder still.

After a moment’s thought, Zhou Zhi offered comfort: “I am just a scatterbrained reader myself, yet to finish the Four Books, and know nothing of the eight-legged essay. I’m afraid I can be of no help to you, Brother Lv.

“You have studied far more than I and must recite the classics with ease. In my view, your failure to become a xiucai may simply mean your time has not yet come. The path of the imperial examinations is arduous beyond measure, and cannot be forced.

“Since you have chosen this road, you need not be troubled every day by setbacks. Stay calm and look at things with a lighter heart—perhaps it will be better that way.”

There was nothing else to say; anyone could offer such words, but whether Lv Xingchuan could truly let go, take the exam without pressure or burden, depended on his own resilience.

Lv Xingchuan fell silent for a long time before finally asking, “I assume, little brother, you are also reading in preparation for the examinations?”

It was a superfluous question; if not for the exams, why study at all? But in his mind, given Zhou Zhi’s poor family circumstances and the expense of study, could the Zhou family really afford to support him?

Without ten or more years of arduous study behind closed doors, winning a title was nothing more than a dream. But Zhou Zhi was a farmer’s son—he still had to labor in the fields. “With ears shut to the world, intent only on the sages' books”—such single-minded study was impossible for Zhou Zhi.

Time was lacking, the family could not afford it; so, in Lv Xingchuan’s view, Zhou Zhi’s hopes for the examination were groundless.

Yet, to his surprise, Zhou Zhi nodded gravely without hesitation. “Yes! I do intend to pursue the examinations. Though my family is poor, my ambition is set, and I will not waver no matter the hardship.”

Zhou Zhi felt a kindred spirit in Lv Xingchuan and saw no reason to hide his aspirations. His eyes shone with confidence as he spoke.

Sitting beside Zhou Zhi and sensing that confidence, Lv Xingchuan couldn’t help but be moved. “Born to poverty, yet his will does not falter; in adversity, he remains steadfast in his faith—truly, this is a model for me to emulate.”

If a poor farmer’s son could possess such confidence, why should he, Lv Xingchuan, lose heart? He resolved to continue his seclusion and study, to remain steadfast in his pursuit. He would not believe that he could not become a xiucai.

Having thought this through, Lv Xingchuan’s expression grew calm. After a few more words with Zhou Zhi, he took his leave.

The two had found instant rapport and great affinity. Zhou Zhi rose quickly, intending to invite Lv Xingchuan to stay for a meal, but there was nothing decent to serve, so he could only offer a rueful smile.

As he was about to leave, Lv Xingchuan reminded Zhou Zhi to take good care of the government horse and to find a remedy for its diarrhea as soon as possible. Though he was a group leader, the death of a government horse would have to be reported to the county, and he could not bear that responsibility.

Knowing the Zhou family’s hardship, Lv Xingchuan generously offered Zhou Zhi a few taels of silver—one, to treat the government horse, and two, to help with his younger brother Shaocheng’s stomach pains; if the illness did not improve, he urged Zhou Zhi to take him to town for treatment.

Lv Xingchuan treated Zhou Zhi as a true brother, and his visit had not been in vain; he was energized by Zhou Zhi’s confidence.

But Zhou Zhi would not accept unearned gifts; between gentlemen, friendship should be as pure as water. He could not, without reason, take Lv Xingchuan’s silver, so the two politely argued in the courtyard.

At that moment, group head Wang Qi arrived, carrying a small cloth bag with sixty eggs in his left hand and a plump hen in his right.

Seeing how Lv Xingchuan treated Zhou Zhi, Wang Qi grew even more apprehensive—he dared not interfere with the Zhou family’s government horse again. If the horse died, it seemed the family would not suffer much anyway. Zhou Zhi was clearly a young master he could not afford to cross.

Zhou Zhi remained firm, and in the end, Lv Xingchuan gave up.

Wang Qi handed the eggs and fat hen to Zhou Zhi’s mother, then scampered off after Lv Xingchuan like a little dog.

With the eggs reclaimed and a fat hen to boot, and seeing Zhou Zhi enjoy such close relations with the group leader, Zhou Zhi’s mother and sister, Zhou Luyun, were filled with joy. When Zhou Zhi came inside, the two women lavished him with praise.

“Ever since Xiaozhi fell and lost consciousness, the change in him has been remarkable—so much so that even his own mother can hardly believe it.”

His mother had said such things countless times, and Zhou Zhi could only smile calmly in response.

Naturally, the midday meal would feature the stewed hen. With the experience of Zhou Zhi’s clear stewed wild goose last time, his sister Luyun eagerly took charge of killing the chicken and preparing the meal.

Though the issue with the group head’s inspection of the government horse was resolved, the Zhou family still faced two worries: whether little brother Shaocheng’s stomach pain would soon improve, and whether the government horse could recover with roasted sorghum flour.

Shaocheng’s pain needed to be closely observed; if it persisted for a few more days, they would have to find a good doctor.

As for the government horse, Zhou Zhi roasted more sorghum flour in the afternoon and fed it to the animal, watching it carefully for half a day. If there was still no improvement, the matter would become truly troublesome.

There was no veterinarian near Baiyue Village; it was said there was one in Qingdu County, but his skills were mediocre and his fees considerable.

Zhou Zhi’s heart was anxious all day, but by dusk, the black barley horse finally recovered, its diarrhea ceased. Zhou Zhi was overjoyed.

As he stood in the courtyard, watching the horse eat its feed with relief, a voice rang out, “Is the Zhou family lad at home?”

The voice was not loud, yet Zhou Zhi heard it clearly. Turning around, he saw it was Old Wang, the “Riddle-Solving Boy.”

Old Wang rarely visited uninvited; Zhou Zhi wondered what brought him at dusk and hurried out to greet him.