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

The next morning, Zhang Zhiqing took Lu Qingyan to the prefectural school.

The prefectural school was located in the east of the city, not far from where they lived, about a quarter of an hour's walk away. It had white walls, black tiles, and a vermilion gate with a plaque above the entrance reading "Yongning Prefectural School," the characters written in a vigorous and powerful style. Two imposing stone lions stood guard at the entrance.

Zhang Zhiqing stepped forward and said to the gatekeeper, "Student Zhang Zhiqing, accompanied by classmate Lu Qingyan, requests an audience with Instructor Chen."

The doorman, an old servant, glanced at them and asked, "Do you have name cards?"

Zhang Zhiqing handed over the letter his father had written. The old servant took it, said, "Wait here," and turned to go inside.

The two waited outside. Looking at the gates of the prefectural school, Lu Qingyan felt a pang of emotion. This was a prefectural-level official school, far more impressive than county schools or private academies. Those who could study here were all scholars who had passed the provincial examinations. He was still a student, only able to visit, not enroll.

A moment later, the old servant came out and said, "Instructor Chen is in the Minglun Hall. You may go in."

Upon entering the gate, a bright and spacious area unfolded before me. The front courtyard was open, paved with bluestone, with a central passageway leading directly to the main hall. On either side were corridors, with plaques bearing the inscriptions "Propriety, Righteousness, Integrity, and Shame." Several students dressed in blue robes were hurrying past, each carrying books.

The Minglun Hall is located to the east of the main hall. Zhang Zhiqing and Lu Qingyan walked to the door, straightened their clothes, and bowed, saying, "Students Zhang Zhiqing and Lu Qingyan pay their respects to Instructor Chen."

Inside sat an elderly man in his fifties, with a lean face, a goatee, and dressed in a blue official robe, who was reading documents. Hearing the voice, he looked up and said, "Come in."

The two went inside and stood with their hands at their sides.

Instructor Chen put down the documents and looked them over: "You're the ones Mr. Zhang recommended?"

"Yes," Zhang Zhiqing said. "My father, Zhang Mingyuan, sends his regards to the instructor."

"Yes, Mr. Zhang mentioned it in his letter." Instructor Chen looked at Lu Qingyan. "You're Lu Qingyan? I heard you defended your uncle's family in the county government, citing classical texts and presenting your arguments clearly and logically?"

Lu Qingyan bowed: "The student is merely petitioning in accordance with the law."

"To petition according to the law is easier said than done." Instructor Chen picked up the "Da Yong Code" from the table. "How much of this code have you read?"

"I read it through once, and thoroughly studied the key chapters."

"Recite the seventh article of the 'Household and Marriage Chapter'."

Lu Qingyan pondered for a moment, then recited clearly: "If one spouse dies in an engagement, the engagement is automatically dissolved. If betrothal gifts have been exchanged but the marriage has not taken place, the betrothal gifts are returned to the bride's family; if betrothal gifts have been exchanged but the wedding ceremony has not yet taken place, half of the betrothal gifts are returned. This law is intended to..."

Instructor Chen raised his hand to interrupt, "That's enough. I have indeed read it." His expression softened slightly. "Sit down."

The two men sat at the lower end of the table. Instructor Chen asked about academic matters, including commentaries on the Four Books and Five Classics, interpretations of the classics, and the writing of policy essays. Zhang Zhiqing answered steadily, while Lu Qingyan answered thoroughly.

"How are your preparations for the provincial examination in August?" Instructor Chen asked.

"Preparations are underway," Zhang Zhiqing said.

Instructor Chen picked up several exam papers from the table: "These are the top ten essays from last year's provincial examination. Take them back and take a look. The prefectural school holds lectures every ten days. Although you haven't enrolled yet, you can come and listen. Lectures begin on the 5th and 10th of each month at Chenshi (7-9 AM)."

Lu Qingyan took the exam paper: "Thank you, Instructor."

"The key to the provincial examination lies in the basics," Instructor Chen said. "You must be solid in your essays on the Four Books, skillful in your poems for the examination, knowledgeable in the classics, and practical in your policy essays. You are young, so don't pursue the unusual and ingenious; first lay a firm foundation."

"Students, please remember this."

After speaking for a while, Instructor Chen said, "Go. Prepare well. If you pass the exam, report to the prefectural school in September."

The two got up to say goodbye.

After leaving the prefectural school, Zhang Zhiqing breathed a sigh of relief: "Instructor Chen is so serious."

"A strict teacher produces outstanding students," Lu Qingyan said. He flipped through the paper in his hand; the handwriting was neat, and the essay was indeed good, more refined than the model essays he had seen before.

Back at their lodgings, Du Wei was hanging clothes to dry in the yard. Seeing them, he smiled and said, "You're finally back. I bought breakfast and it's warming up on the stove."

Porridge and steamed buns were keeping warm on the stove. The three of them sat down to eat. Du Wei asked, "How's the prefectural school? Is it big?"

"It's huge," Zhang Zhiqing said. "Several times bigger than our county school."

"Is Instructor Chen fierce?"

Not fierce, but strict.

Du Wei stuck out his tongue: "I think I'll just stay home and read."

After the meal, Lu Qingyan began to look at the exam paper given by Instructor Chen. It was indeed excellent, with accurate identification of the questions, natural transitions, and solid arguments. He took out paper and pen and began to take notes as he read.

Zhang Zhiqing was also watching from the side. After watching for a while, Du Wei couldn't sit still and said he was going to go to the street to buy some writing brushes and ink.

Lu Qingyan spent the entire morning carefully reading all ten articles. He discovered that these articles shared a common thread—they didn't flaunt their techniques or seek novelty, but every sentence was grounded in reality. They reasoned when necessary and cited classical texts when appropriate, striking a good balance.

They had a simple lunch and continued in the afternoon. Lu Qingyan selected three of the best articles, analyzing them word by word and writing his reflections. Zhang Zhiqing was also attentive, discussing them with him from time to time.

In the evening, Du Wei returned, carrying a pile of things—new pens, new ink, new paper, and several storybooks.

"Brother Du, what's wrong with you...?" Zhang Zhiqing frowned.

"Hehe, since we're in the capital, we have to buy some good stuff," Du Weixing said excitedly. "Look at this paper, how white and fine it is. And this ink, pine soot ink, it smells wonderful."

Lu Qingyan took a look and confirmed that it was indeed good paper and ink, but it was quite expensive.

"Brother Du, you've gone to so much trouble."

"It's alright, my father gave me the money." Du Wei sat down, took out a storybook, and said, "By the way, I heard at the bookstore that there's a 'Literary Gathering' in the prefectural city, held every ten days, where scholars can participate and exchange ideas. Do you want to go?"

Zhang Zhiqing shook his head: "The provincial examination is just around the corner, so I should focus on my studies."

Lu Qingyan asked, "What literary gathering?"

"It's basically a group of scholars getting together to compose poems and essays on assigned topics, and then critique each other's work," Du Wei said. "I've heard it's quite lively, and you can even make friends."

Lu Qingyan thought for a moment: "Once we're settled, we can go take a look."

That evening, the three of them cooked together. Du Wei volunteered to start the fire, but ended up burning the rice. Zhang Zhiqing, exasperated, cooked a new pot of porridge. Lu Qingyan stir-fried some greens and chopped some pickled vegetables.

The meal was simple, but it tasted delicious. Du Wei said between bites, "If my mother knew I was cooking for myself here, she'd be shocked."

"When you're away from home, you have to learn everything," Zhang Zhiqing said.

After dinner, Lu Qingyan continued reviewing his exam papers. Zhang Zhiqing practiced calligraphy, while Du Wei read a storybook—a practice they called "balancing work and rest."

As night deepened, Lu Qingyan blew out the lamp and lay down. Moonlight streamed in through the window, cool and clear.

He thought of home. At this time, Zhao should be doing needlework under the lamp, Lu Tiezhu should be smoking in the yard, Lu Dashan and Lu Xiaoshan should be asleep, and Taohua and Shunhua should be reciting the Three Character Classic in their dreams.

He turned over and closed his eyes.

Tomorrow, I'm going to listen to a lecture at the prefectural school. I have to get up early.