Chapter Fifty-Nine: Advancing Despite Difficulties

“Heh heh! Well said! That’s just the sort of talk an old man like me loves to hear. To press forward in the face of adversity, that’s the true mark of a man.” Wang Ding clapped his hands in approval.

Then, with a warm smile, he grasped Zhou Zhi’s hand and invited him to sit at the edge of the heated kang, continuing, “In my eyes, their actions may seem aimed at me on the surface, but as you’ve just said, lad, the real target is you. It’s nothing but jealousy of the talented, a fear that one day you might rise above them. Just think carefully—your actions lately have been quite remarkable. First, you tricked Chen Wenju into making a fool of himself, showing you could read without ever attending the village school. Then you created a bellows, and now you’ve set up some kind of greenhouse in the fields, planning to grow fresh vegetables in the freezing winter. Whether you succeed or not, they can see you are a person of ideas, restless and full of promise—so they must suppress you.

In our land, scholars are honored and warriors belittled; the status of a learned man is plain to see, a cut above the rest. How could they not worry? Heh heh! Lad, ambition knows no age. I believe you are destined for great things! Our Baiyue Village is about to produce a true talent!”

Wang Ding’s affection for Zhou Zhi was unmistakable.

At this moment, Zhou Zhi’s heart gradually calmed. The enemy lurked in the shadows while he stood in the open; to seek vengeance blindly would be reckless. What was needed now was patience—for sooner or later, the fox’s tail would be revealed. But if his opponent truly was a powerful and wealthy adversary, what could a farmer’s son do but fight with all his might? Yet, with such petty, jealous behavior, surely their hearts were narrow.

Ironically, his life was worth far more than theirs.

As the saying goes: A true hero must possess exceptional integrity, unable to stomach certain wrongs; when an ordinary man is insulted, he draws his sword to fight—this is not true courage. Real courage is to remain undisturbed in sudden peril, unangered by unprovoked injustice, for such a person holds something far greater in his heart, and his ambitions reach much further.

This anger must be swallowed for now. What he needed was to steadily build his strength.

Zhou Zhi then said, “Sir, I understand your deeper meaning, but I still feel guilty for having implicated you.”

“It’s nothing. After all, they’re only books. What use do they have in the grave? If they burn them, let them burn. Sigh! The pity is that you, Zhou Zhi, are left without books to read. Where will you borrow them now?” Wang Ding said with an exaggerated sigh.

Zhou Zhi replied calmly, “You need not worry, sir. As long as I am determined to study, I’ll find a way to borrow books. This conversation today has been most enlightening—I thank you sincerely.”

With that, he bowed to Wang Ding.

Zhou Zhi’s constant apologies were beginning to wear on Wang Ding’s nerves. Feigning annoyance, Wang Ding said, “No need for all that between us. We’re bound by fate, after all, and I still hope to see you achieve something great! You finished both ‘The Great Learning’ and ‘The Analects’ in less than a month, and I suspect you can recite them by heart. At this pace, within three to five years, you’ll be ready for the civil exam.”

For most, passing the imperial examination required at least a decade of seclusion and study. Zhou Zhi, though, had no such time—he had to tend the fields and care for his family. Wang Ding’s estimation of him was high indeed, treating him almost as a prodigy.

But Zhou Zhi replied earnestly, “I intend to take the entry-level exam next spring, to become a licentiate first.”

In the past, Zhou Zhi had not been eager for fame or rank, but now he was determined. If his enemies wanted to stop him from studying, he would win a degree as quickly as possible, just to show them.

He had some confidence, at least, thanks to his knowledge from the future. Though unfamiliar with the Four Books and Five Classics or the Eight-Legged Essay, he trusted his own comprehension.

Modern people may not be more intelligent than those of old, but they certainly possess broader knowledge.

Moreover, in reciting ‘The Great Learning’ and ‘The Analects’ these past days, he’d been astonished to find his memory improving rapidly, nearly photographic.

With such an ability, how could he not soon master the classics and the essay form?

When Wang Ding heard this, his face grew stern. “Young people should not be arrogant. The next exam is only thirteen or fourteen months away. How will you finish your studies in time? Success in scholarship comes from steady progress. I must insist: keep your heart steady.”

Though he did not entirely agree in his heart, Zhou Zhi nodded obediently. “You are right, sir. I will remember your advice.”

“Heh heh! I can help you no longer. To tell you the truth, even if I could, I wouldn’t dare. I’d like to enjoy a few more peaceful days. Take care of yourself, lad!” Wang Ding concluded with a resigned sigh.

Taking his leave, Zhou Zhi returned home.

His mood was now cool and clear. No matter who his enemies were, or how many, he would not concern himself with them for now. The most important thing was to focus on the tasks at hand.

He had to tend the greenhouse, and also find a way to borrow books elsewhere.

He thought of Lü Xingchuan, the leader of Zhaozhuang. The two had hit it off at first meeting, their friendship quiet and sincere. Zhou Zhi was sure he wouldn’t return empty-handed if he sought books there.

With the sun already setting, he decided to wait until the next day to seek out Lü Xingchuan.

When he got home, his mother and elder sister had already prepared dinner, but neither had eaten. Both wore expressions of deep worry, and even his little brother looked troubled, downcast and silent.

Before Zhou Zhi could ask, his mother spoke. “Zhi, you might not have heard—your cousin Huo Dan has gotten into trouble.”

At her words, Zhou Zhi’s mind went blank for a moment. He and Zhang Huo Dan were close; in Baiyue Village, no one had looked after him more than Huo Dan. How could something have happened to him? He was the leader among the local ruffians—who would dare cross him? What could have gone wrong?

Without pausing to question his mother and sister, Zhou Zhi rushed to Zhang Huo Dan’s house.

It wasn’t far—just a narrow alley to the north edge of the village. Because Uncle Zhang was a pig-castrator, their family was slightly better off than Zhou Zhi’s, with five mud-brick rooms and a fenced courtyard.

There were already several villagers peering into the yard. Zhou Zhi hurried in and saw Uncle Zhang slumped in the courtyard, tears streaming down his wrinkled face.

Huo Dan’s elder brother Zhang Da and younger brother Zhang Fu were doing their best to console him, but both looked deeply troubled.

“Uncle Zhang, what’s happened?” Zhou Zhi asked anxiously.