A Poor Man's Son-in-Law: He Picks Up the Daughter of a Duke's Mansion at the Start

The honeysuckle had been drying for three days; it was time to put it away. Zhao packed the dried flowers into a cloth bag and weighed it: "There's less this time, but it's still three or four pounds."

Lu Qingyan took the cloth bag: "I'll go to town this afternoon."

"Let's go after lunch," Zhao said. "Today we're steaming eggs."

Lu Qingyan was taken aback. The family saved eggs to exchange for salt; they rarely ate them. He went into the kitchen and saw three eggs cracked into a bowl, steaming hot.

"Mother, why are you steaming so much?"

"You've been using your brain a lot lately, you should replenish it." Zhao added some firewood to the stove.

During the meal, a bowl of steamed eggs was placed in front of Lu Qingyan, golden and sprinkled with chopped scallions. Everyone else buried their heads in their porridge, and no one looked at that bowl.

Lu Qingyan picked up a spoon and divided the eggs into five portions—one for her parents, one for her eldest brother, and one for her two younger sisters. She left only the smallest portion in her own bowl.

"Yan'er!" Zhao exclaimed anxiously, "I steamed this for you!"

"Let's all eat together." Lu Qingyan distributed the eggs into everyone's bowls. "I can't eat it all by myself."

Lu Tiezhu looked at the egg in the bowl, remained silent for a moment, then picked it up and ate it. Lu Dashan declined, saying, "Third brother, you eat it..."

"Big brother works hard, he deserves to eat," Lu Qingyan said.

Tao Hua looked at the eggs in the bowl and said softly, "Third Brother, I don't need any..."

"Eat up." Lu Qingyan patted her head. "You're growing."

The meal was eaten quietly. The eggs were tender and fragrant, but everyone ate very slowly.

After the meal, Lu Qingyan didn't rush to town. He found a flat spot in the yard, scratched it a few times with a twig, and called over Lu Dashan and his two younger sisters.

"Today I'll teach you how to write," he said.

Lu Dashan rubbed his hands together: "I'm clumsy with my hands..."

"Take your time." Lu Qingyan wrote the character "人" (person) on the ground. "This is '人,' and we are all people."

He held Tao Hua's small hand and guided her to draw on the ground. Tao Hua was very serious, but the branches wouldn't cooperate, and the words she drew were crooked and uneven.

Shunhua took a tree branch and carefully copied Lu Qingyan's writing stroke by stroke. Her hand was steady, and her writing was neater.

Lu Dashan squatted on the ground, staring at the character "人" (person) for a long time before clumsily picking up a branch. He had big hands, and he gripped the branch like a hoe, making a deep cut with the first stroke, turning up the soil.

"Be gentle." Lu Qingyan demonstrated, "Like this—"

As they were teaching, Zhao came out of the kitchen and, seeing this scene, was stunned: "What's going on here?"

"Teach them to read," Lu Qingyan said.

Zhao's expression changed: "Dashan needs to work, what use is literacy? The two girls need even less..."

"Learning to read is useful." Lu Qingyan stood up. "If Big Brother can read, he won't be cheated when reading contracts in the future. If the younger sisters can read, they can keep accounts and write letters."

"What's the use of a girl learning to read?" Lu Tiezhu came out of the house, frowning. "When she gets married, won't she just be stuck around the stove all the time?"

Tao Hua stopped holding the branch. Shun Hua lowered her head and didn't speak.

Lu Qingyan looked at his parents and said, "Father, Mother, learning to read doesn't necessarily mean you have to pass the imperial examinations. If you can read, your mind will be clear, and you won't be afraid to go anywhere."

"But we can't let that interfere with our important business," Lu Tiezhu said. "Dashan still has to go to the fields this afternoon."

"I'll teach you for a little while, it won't take long," Lu Qingyan insisted. "If you learn three characters a day, you can learn ninety characters a month. After a year, you'll know all the commonly used characters."

Zhao and Lu Tiezhu exchanged a glance but neither spoke.

Lu Qingyan continued, "I know things are difficult at home. But no matter how difficult it is, we can't let people fail to develop their skills. My eldest brother is strong, my sisters are skillful, and they can read and write. No matter where they go in the future, they will be able to stand on their own two feet."

The courtyard fell silent. Only the distant clucking of chickens and ducks could be heard.

Lu Tiezhu took a puff of his pipe and finally said, "Fine, I'll teach you, but don't take too long."

Zhao sighed, turned around and went back into the house.

Lu Qingyan squatted down again: "Come on, let's continue. Now that you know the character '人' (person), let's teach you the character '山' (mountain)."

He wrote the character for "mountain" on the ground and pointed to the distant mountains: "Look, doesn't it look like one?"

Tao Hua nodded: "It looks like it!"

"The 'mountain' in Brother Dashan's name is this character," Lu Qingyan said.

Lu Dashan stared at the character with a complex expression. He had been farming and climbing mountains for so many years, and this was the first time he had ever seen the character for "mountain" look like this.

That afternoon, Lu Qingyan taught three characters: "人" (person), "山" (mountain), and "田" (field). Lu Dashan learned slowly but diligently. Tao Hua was lively, always asking questions. Shun Hua was quiet but remembered the characters well.

As the sun began to set, Lu Qingyan headed to town. He slung his cloth bag over his shoulder and said to Lu Dashan, "Big brother, you take the sisters for some more practice. I'll check on them when I get back."

Lu Dashan nodded: "Okay."

On the way to town, Lu Qingyan felt heavy-hearted. He understood his parents' attitude—in the eyes of farmers, strength and skill were the most practical things, literacy was for scholars, and girls had no need for it.

But he needs to change that mindset. Little by little.

When they arrived at the pharmacy, the old doctor weighed the money: three catties and eight taels, which is four catties, costing one hundred and sixty coins.

"Why is it less than last time?" the old doctor asked.

"The flowers are almost fully bloomed," Lu Qingyan said.

"Yes, it'll be gone in a few days." The old doctor counted the money. "Come back next year."

With the money in his pocket, Lu Qingyan didn't go straight home. He went to a general store and bought a reamer of paper, as well as the cheapest pen and a stick of ink—the ones at home were almost gone.

After thinking about it, I bought three more calligraphy brushes, the cheapest kind, for my older brother and younger sisters.

When they got home, it was already dusk. In the yard, Lu Dashan was helping his two younger sisters write on the ground. In the last rays of daylight, they could see the crooked characters "人山田" (ren shan tian, meaning "human mountain field") on the ground.

"Third Brother is back!" Tao Hua ran over.

Lu Qingyan took out the things he had bought: "Here, your pens."

Three new calligraphy brushes: one each from Tao Hua and Shun Hua, and one from Lu Dashan. Lu Dashan took the brush, his hands trembling slightly: "This...this is such an expensive thing..."

"It's not expensive, it's for practicing calligraphy," Lu Qingyan said. "Starting tomorrow, we'll write on old paper with a pen, which is better than drawing on the ground."

At dinner, Lu Qingyan handed the money from selling honeysuckle to Zhao. Zhao counted it, then looked at the three new pens, and sighed, "Why did you spend this money?"

"It's worth the money," Lu Qingyan said.

At night, Lu Qingyan was writing a storybook under the lamp. From the next room, the sounds of Zhao Shi and Lu Tiezhu talking in hushed tones could be heard.

"Sigh, we just spoil them too much."

"Stop talking, the child has his own ideas."

"It would be a laughing stock if word got out that a girl could read."

"We just need to mind our own business..."

Lu Qingyan put down his pen and listened quietly.

He knew what his parents were worried about. In this day and age, teaching girls to read would certainly attract gossip. But he didn't care.

The pen tip fell again. He wrote slowly and with great force.

Outside the window, the moon rose. Its cool light streamed into the courtyard, illuminating the words on the ground that had not yet been erased—"person," "mountain," "field."