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

June 22nd, 3:45 AM, sunny.

As Lu Qingyan stepped into the study, the morning light slanted across the threshold. Today, he had deliberately changed into the most inconspicuous gray-blue robe, made of ordinary fine cotton, with slightly faded cuffs—an old garment he had brought from Yongning. Since the Third Prince enjoyed teasing his well-dressed tutor, he would do the opposite.

Zhao Jingshuo was indeed already sitting behind his desk. Today he was wearing a brand-new apricot-yellow floral robe, his hair was neatly tied up, and he was pretending to hold a copy of the "Thousand Character Classic" in his hand, but he was holding the book upside down.

"Editor Lu is here." The ten-year-old's voice still carried a hint of childishness, but his eyes darted around mischievously. "Yesterday, Editor Lu talked about the roofs of the Forbidden City. I went back and saw them, and sure enough, the roof tiles of the West Fifth Palace have bat patterns carved on them. You said it's a homonym for 'fortune,' but why do they look like rats to me?"

Lu Qingyan stopped three steps in front of the desk and bowed respectfully. "Your Highness's observation is remarkable. The bat pattern, meant to symbolize 'widespread blessings,' does indeed bear some resemblance to a rat." He paused. "However, Your Highness, do you know why you chose a bat instead of a more powerful dragon or tiger?"

Zhao Jingshuo was indeed stumped by the question, his brows furrowing: "Why?"

"Since the residences of the imperial harem should be decorated with auspicious and gentle symbols, dragons and tigers are too fierce, while bats symbolize 'lasting good fortune,' which is more suitable for the residences of princes and princesses." As Lu Qingyan spoke, he took out a few pages of paper from his sleeve. "These are the patterns on the roof tiles of the various palaces that I drew last night. Your Highness can refer to them."

The paper is outlined with fine brushes of the tile patterns of different palaces: the dragon pattern of the Hall of Supreme Harmony is majestic and solemn, the cloud pattern of the Hall of Heavenly Purity is ethereal and lively, and the bats, peaches, gourds and other patterns of the Six Eastern and Western Palaces are also noted with small annotations.

Zhao Jingshuo took the paper, his eyes lighting up. He had been born and raised in the palace, yet no one had ever described the things he saw every day in such an interesting way. He couldn't help but point to one of the pictures: "What about this one? This one looks like a persimmon!"

"That's 'May everything go as you wish,' and 'persimmon' is a homophone for 'matter' (事)." Lu Qingyan walked to his side, maintaining a just-right distance. "Your Highness, look at this one too, it has a gourd pattern—it symbolizes 'good fortune and prosperity.'"

Children will be children; once their curiosity takes hold, they forget the trap they were supposed to set. Zhao Jingshuo looked at those blueprints over and over again, unaware that Liu the eunuch had secretly righted the upside-down copy of the Thousand Character Classic.

The lesson that day started with the patterns on roof tiles, then moved on to the architectural regulations in the "Rites of Zhou," and finally to the true meaning of the word "rites." Zhao Jingshuo listened attentively, only managing to trip Lu Qingyan up once—he secretly pushed the inkstone forward half an inch when Lu Qingyan turned around, wanting to see his sleeve stained with ink.

But Lu Qingyan seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. When he turned around, his steps naturally veered slightly off course, and his indigo sleeve brushed lightly past the inkstone without touching it at all.

Zhao Jingshuo pursed his lips and muttered under his breath, "Boring."

Lu Qingyan pretended not to hear and continued, "Rites are the order of heaven and earth."

When the midday bell rang, Zhao Jingshuo, unusually, didn't jump up immediately. Instead, he asked, "So, what will we talk about tomorrow?"

"What would Your Highness like to hear?"

The child's eyes lit up: "Tell me...tell me about those stones in the Imperial Garden! Why do some look like monkeys and others like old men?"

Lu Qingyan smiled: "Then let's talk about the division of mountains and rivers in the 'Yu Gong' and the principles of rockery in gardens."

"The Tribute of Yu? That sounds boring," Zhao Jingshuo muttered, but there was clearly anticipation in his eyes.

June 23, cloudy, light breeze.

The moment Lu Qingyan entered the room, he saw not books on the desk, but a half-finished chessboard. Black and white pieces were intertwined, indicating the game was already in its middle stages.

Zhao Jingshuo rested his chin on his hand, tapping the chess pieces absentmindedly with his fingers: "Editor Lu, Liu Banban said you know how to play chess. Today we won't play that damn incomplete 'Mysterious Chess Classic,' but a fresh game—if you beat me, you'd better pay attention in class today; if you lose…"

"What if we lose?" Lu Qingyan walked to the chessboard.

"If you lose, you have to meow like a cat!" The child finished speaking, then couldn't help but burst out laughing, before quickly straightening up, "A promise is a promise!"

The ten-year-old's "a king's word is his bond" sounded both childish and earnest. Lu Qingyan glanced at the chessboard; the black pieces were launching a fierce attack, while the white pieces appeared somewhat hesitant, but had not lost their foundation. This game didn't seem like a child's work; it sounded like someone had taught it.

"Then so be it, Your Highness." Lu Qingyan sat down opposite him and picked up a white piece.

Zhao Jingshuo's eyes lit up, and he immediately placed his piece. He played extremely fast, almost without thinking, pressing forward relentlessly, completely like a child who "finds pleasure in capturing pieces." Lu Qingyan, however, was in no hurry. He placed his white pieces slowly, each move seemingly casual, yet gradually neutralizing the black's offensive.

Fifteen minutes later, Zhao Jingshuo stared at the chessboard, his face tense. He realized that although he seemed to have captured quite a few of his opponent's pieces, the "influence" on the board had unknowingly shifted towards White.

"Your Highness," Lu Qingyan said softly, "capturing pieces is like warfare; greed doesn't guarantee victory."

"Mind your own business!" the child retorted, but his ears turned red. He placed another piece, this time pondering for the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea.

But in the end, they still lost. White won by two and a half points.

Zhao Jingshuo stared at the chessboard for a long time, then suddenly pushed the pieces away, acting like he was cheating: "This game doesn't count! You must have had Liu Banban teach you beforehand!"

The eunuch Liu, who had been standing by, was so frightened that he immediately bowed and said, "Your Highness, please understand, this old servant would never dare to..."

Lu Qingyan smiled and said, "Your Highness, I indeed did not receive any guidance from Eunuch Liu. However, watching Your Highness's chess moves reminded me of someone."

"Who?"

"Han Xin, the great general of the Western Han Dynasty." Lu Qingyan began to collect the chess pieces. "When Han Xin first joined Liu Bang, Liu Bang put him in charge of provisions, which he felt was a waste of his talents. But it was this experience of managing provisions that made him understand the principle of 'an army marches on its stomach.' Later, he became a brilliant strategist because he knew himself and his enemy—he knew how long his own provisions could last and when the enemy's provisions would run out."

He sorted the black and white pieces back into the chess jar, his movements unhurried: "Your Highness, when you play chess, you only focus on capturing pieces, but forget that the chessboard is like a battlefield, and you must consider the overall situation. This is like Han Xin in his early days, who only knew how to charge forward but did not know how to plan."

Zhao Jingshuo listened intently, forgetting his usual antics: "Then how should we view the overall picture?"

"Your Highness, take me to the Imperial Garden tomorrow to see the stones, and I will teach Your Highness how to 'see the big picture'," Lu Qingyan said, keeping everyone in suspense.

The child's eyes lit up: "Really?"

"Your Majesty, I dare not deceive you."

That day, the lecture on the Analects was only partially completed; most of the time was spent discussing Han Xin, the principles of chess, and the art of war. Zhao Jingshuo listened intently without blinking, ignoring even the eunuch Liu's repeated reminders about the time.

As he was leaving, Zhao Jingshuo suddenly called out to him, "Editor Lu!"

Lu Qingyan turned around.

"You..." the child said awkwardly, "You haven't learned to meow like a cat yet."

He's still just a child; losing a game of chess is a blow to his pride. Lu Qingyan's eyes crinkled with amusement as he cupped his hands and said, "Then I'll learn a meow."

He studied diligently, but his voice was flat and emotionless, lacking any of the cat's endearing charm. Zhao Jingshuo was taken aback at first, then burst into laughter, laughing so hard he almost fell over: "Editor Lu, your imitation is awful!"

The laughter was crisp and clear, full of childlike innocence. Lu Qingyan also smiled: "Your Majesty, my skills are clumsy; please forgive my poor performance."

As he left the Imperial Study, Eunuch Liu saw him off, whispering, "Editor Lu is quite capable. His Highness hasn't smiled like that in a long time."

Lu Qingyan glanced at the crabapple tree in the courtyard and said softly, "Your Highness is still just a child."