maidservant

Chapter 146 People Seek Teacher Zhao

"Sir! I will definitely save up the money to repay the tuition for these three days!"

"How do you want to earn money? Do you have any jobs?" Yunshan asked him with a smile.

"I will find him!"

"I'm short-handed at my shop. I need someone to watch over it all night, and every morning at dawn, I have to wash the medicine pots again. Would you be willing to do that?"

The boy was stunned for a moment, then quickly said, "I'll do it!"

"Then go pack your clothes, take this, and go to the Xinglin Medical Clinic to find Doctor Feng. Explain why you're here, and he'll take you in," Yun Shan said, handing him a package.

After the boy ran away, Yun Shan and Su Yu chatted briefly.

This reading craze spread rapidly like wildfire. The imperial court then announced that the rosters of the schools would be expanded before the New Year, and no new students would be admitted after the New Year. A new round of admissions would begin again at the winter solstice of the following year.

On the day the news spread, Yunshan stumbled upon a father and son arguing heatedly at the clinic.

"Our family may be poor, but our children are bright!"

“No matter how bright your grandson is, school still costs money! At his age, in another two years he'll be able to run errands and do odd jobs to earn some money for the family! If you send him to a private school, how many years will it take before you see any benefit?!”

"Father! Now that he can read and write, he can earn more money doing bookkeeping for wealthy families! Don't worry about him! I'll do more work to support his studies!"

Yunshan listened, feeling a warmth in her heart. Her childhood memories were almost completely wiped out during the escape from famine, but she had been able to read and write since she was a child, a testament to her parents' love for their daughter.

Parents always think long-term for their children.

In the dead of winter, Zongzheng Yangzhao stood atop the palace wall, gazing at the city lights. From the direction of the Wenshu Private School, the faint sounds of students reciting their lessons could be heard.

A personal eunuch stepped forward with a memorial: "Your Majesty, the Wen Yuan and Wen Lan private schools are full for today."

The emperor gazed at the pale dawn breaking on the horizon and suddenly coughed. As he covered his mouth with his handkerchief, he caught a glimpse of a red plum tree at the base of the wall, its buds stubbornly unfurling amidst the snow and ice.

“Tell the Ministry of Revenue,” he said, tucking the bloodstained handkerchief into his sleeve, “to allocate another three thousand taels of silver to provide each school with a heater.”

As the first rays of dawn pierced the clouds, the bell of Wenshu Private School rang precisely on time. Children carrying blue cloth satchels skipped and hopped through the streets and alleys, their breath condensing into tiny droplets of mist in the sunlight. This reform, which began in the imperial court, was transforming into sparks of light, illuminating this city that had weathered many storms.

The north wind of December, carrying snowflakes, pelted against the window frames of the Xinglin Medical Clinic, the creaking of the medicine grinder mingling with the crackling of charcoal in the bronze stove.

Nian'er breathed out white puffs as she poured the dregs of the medicine into the earthenware jar, her fingers, red from the cold, almost unable to hold the bamboo broom.

Behind the counter, Yunshan held her frozen accounting pen, watching the shop assistants busy in the medicine cabinets—although she had taken the time to teach them to recognize medicinal herbs, Xiaotao still always wrote "Zisu" as "Zisu".

“This can’t go on.” Yun Shan breathed on her hands and rubbed them together, her gaze sweeping over the medicine cabinet on the wall, which was covered with a thin layer of frost.

Outside the window, the heavy snow bent the old plum branches, and in the distance, the lanterns of the private school flickered in the wind and snow, with the faint sound of children reciting the "Hundred Family Surnames" drifting through the air. Children wrapped in cotton-padded coats huddled under the school window, eavesdropping, their red noses pressed against the frosty window paper.

"I'd like to hire a tutor for the guys, even if it's just to identify medicinal herbs. In our line of work, the worst thing is getting the herbs mixed up," Yunshan said to Doctor Feng.

Doctor Feng added a piece of charcoal to the bronze stove: "Judging from the recent days, our clinic shouldn't be too busy; everyone is terrified of getting sick. If you need to see a doctor, now's the perfect time. I know someone, Old An, who weaves bamboo baskets at the west end of the alley."

“Old An passed the county-level imperial examination in his youth, but failed the provincial-level examination eight times. Now he makes a living by weaving bamboo baskets, but he studies every day before dawn.” “Then I’ll go and invite him over,” Yun Shan said, closing the account book and heading out.

"Let's wait and see. After he packs up his stall, we can go to his house and ask him," Doctor Feng advised. "Scholars are more sensitive, so it's more reliable to discuss things with their families."

"Okay, then I'll go and prepare some things for him and his family."

"No need. Just send him a calligraphy copybook. He's unmarried and still all alone at his age."

"Still unmarried?" Yun Shan was shocked to hear this.

Dr. Feng leaned closer and told Yunshan a story from the past.

When Lao An was young, he had just passed the imperial examination and become a scholar. His family asked a matchmaker to arrange a marriage for him with the daughter of a porcelain merchant.

The young lady was as beautiful as jade, and Mr. An was handsome and dashing at the time. The two met and fell in love.

However, the family waited for the imperial examinations twice, but Lao An failed each time. So, the family broke off the engagement and married the young lady to a scholar who had just passed the examinations and was about thirty-five years old.

The scholar had been married before, but his wife had recently passed away due to illness, as the family was too poor to afford treatment. The family was still in debt. The young lady's father provided him with a new house and added a dowry to make up for his losses, and the marriage agreement between the two families was thus finalized.

For various reasons, the young lady was unwilling to marry him. Even when her family forced her into the sedan chair, she cried all the way. The family of the man who had just passed the imperial examination disliked her and, when welcoming the sedan chair, tried to put on airs like a scholar and insisted on entering through a side gate.

The young lady was already heartbroken, so she jumped out of the sedan chair and smashed her head against the corner of the wall, turning a joyous occasion into a tragic one.

"Sigh, it's all just rumors. Which young lady it was, the stories just fade away," Doctor Feng continued.

"But Old An kept blaming himself for the young lady's death and ultimately refused to talk about marriage again."

After listening, Yunshan gained a certain understanding of Lao An.

As dusk deepened, Yunshan and Afu trudged through knee-deep snow to find the thatched hut deep in the alley.

The bamboo fence was covered with a thick layer of snow, like a sprinkle of white sugar. In the dim candlelight shining through the window, you could see a crooked bookcase in the corner, with the top copy of "Three Hundred Tang Poems" worn out from being turned over.

As he pushed open the door, a cold wind blew in, carrying snowflakes into the room. Mr. An, who was weaving a bamboo basket, shivered slightly, snow still clinging to the shoulders of his coarse cotton-padded coat.

"Studying? No matter how much you study, you'll still be destined to be poor."

Mr. An's cracked hands gripped the bamboo strips, bamboo splinters embedded in his fingernails. "Back then, I pawned my ancestral home to take the imperial examination, and in the end, I didn't even have enough money to go home." His voice suddenly choked up, his gaze sweeping over the faded "Wen Kui" plaque on the wall, his Adam's apple bobbing.

Despite Yunshan's various attempts to persuade him, Lao An remained unwilling to become a schoolteacher.

Afu suddenly pointed to the pile of books in the corner: "But Dr. Feng said that the ink in your belly could fill a moat!"

"Doctor Feng thinks so highly of me?"

Mr. An's movements froze in mid-air, and the bamboo strips made a faint cracking sound.

Yunshan gently placed the cotton bag containing the moon silver on the table: "Only one hour after noon each day, so it won't interfere with your bamboo basket weaving."