Chapter 38: Come Down and Try It

Truly, one’s social circle is of great importance. If his father hadn't insisted on him coming to the city to study, how would a boy from a farming family ever have met the son of a landlord, let alone sit as an equal with the magistrate’s son? It really is true that "all pursuits are base, only scholarship is noble"...

Lü Dasheng looked at Zhu An with curiosity. "I heard my father say you had a scholar as a tutor back in your hometown. Why would your father make you come here to study instead?"

The others were just as puzzled. A scholar of that rank was no small matter, yet he had simply been cast aside.

"I didn't want to come either, but my father insisted. I had no choice," Zhu An said, looking helpless. "However, after sitting through a day of classes, I must say Master Zhou’s lectures are better than my previous tutor’s. They aren't nearly as dry; at least I can actually listen to them."

If not for that, he would have made a scene at home today to force his father to change his mind.

"It seems our master is indeed quite good if even your father approves," Zhao Xing said, a sentiment echoed by everyone.

Lü Dasheng, satisfied by this, turned his attention to the food on the table, his stomach rumbling. "Enough talk, let’s eat!"

"Oh! This steamed pork with rice flour—fatty but not greasy, delicious!"

"Try these bamboo shoots, they’re so crisp and refreshing..."

Though everyone had been somewhat reserved at first, Lü Dasheng ate with such lack of pretense that it felt like he was in his own home, which prompted the others to follow suit and dig in. For Wang Xuezhou, this was the best meal he had eaten since his rebirth. He was so moved he nearly shed tears. That wretched, nostalgic taste of a restaurant meal!

Over the course of the meal, the group learned that the Crane Pavilion was actually owned by Zhu An’s mother, which explained his familiarity with the place. Wang Xuezhou’s suspicions were confirmed.

Downstairs, the storyteller began his shift, putting his eloquence to full use. He played several characters at once, shifting his tone and inflection with such skill that it was truly lifelike. The others were engrossed, but Wang Xuezhou was the only one still interested in his food. Honestly, had the storyteller not been so witty and skilled, he wouldn't have bothered listening at all. After sitting for so long, it was just another cliché story about a down-and-out scholar and a beautiful maiden—utterly boring.

"You don't like it?" Zhu An glanced at his expression, looking surprised.

Everyone else seemed fascinated, so why was he acting like this? Were their tastes really that different, despite being of a similar age?

"Perhaps it’s because the stories I imagine in my head are more interesting than that."

Wang Xuezhou’s words immediately piqued Zhu An’s interest. "Oh? Tell us, what kind of stories do you imagine?"

At this, Wang Xuezhou’s eyes lit up. "The story takes place in a small village. There was a boy named Wang Yang whose parents had both passed away. He grew up eating food provided by the villagers. One day..."

He had read countless novels in his previous life; he could conjure up an opening at a moment’s notice. It was a story about an orphan raised by the village who, after it was slaughtered by an evil cultivator, set out on a path of vengeance in the world of immortals.

"Looking at the devastated village, Wang Yang agreed to follow the One-Eyed Daoist. As the man waved his sleeve, a flying sword appeared before them. The Daoist swept him up and they flew toward the horizon, where a three-story flying ship awaited..."

Before they knew it, all his companions were hanging on his every word, completely immersed. Wang Xuezhou, however, stopped and took a sip of tea.

"And then?" Lü Dasheng asked impatiently.

"I'm tired today. I’ll make up some more for you when I have the chance," Wang Xuezhou said with a grin, refusing to continue. He had to keep them hooked if he wanted to reel Zhu An in.

"Ahhh! Why stop at the crucial moment!" Lü Dasheng squirmed in his chair, begging for more. Though the others didn't say it aloud, they were all waiting for the little fatty to extract more, but Wang Xuezhou’s lips were tighter than a clam. By the time they parted ways, the story remained exactly where it had left off.

A single meal had brought them much closer, and Zhu An settled down to study at the Shangshan Academy with peace of mind.

Time flew; spring departed and autumn arrived. Three years passed in the blink of an eye. During this time, Wang Xuezhou traveled between the academy and home, his body stretching out and growing much taller. Seeing how hard he studied, his family did everything they could to nourish him. He had long since shed the look of a poor farm boy. Without the toil of the fields, his face had become fair and his features refined; he stood there looking every bit the scholarly youth.

His brother, Mao Dan, had spent three years learning the trade at the Crane Pavilion and was now beginning to lead the kitchen, earning his own wages. His uncle, Wang Chengzhu, had recovered from his leg injury with a slight limp. Having lost hope in the imperial examinations, he spent a year in despair before pulling himself together; he walled off the back courtyard of the Wang house and built a few thatched huts to teach children the basics of reading. The tuition was low—only five hundred coins a year—but he gradually gathered a few students. For this, Old Man Wang and Old Mrs. Liu were moved to tears.

His third aunt, Mrs. Ma, had also given birth to twin boys during these three years. Since then, she had held her head high and was no longer the long-suffering woman she once was. Though life at home was not filled with luxury, it was steadily improving, largely because Wang Xuezhou had begun to cover his own educational expenses.

Three years ago, he had used that fantasy novel opening to hook the big fish that was Zhu An. The two hit it off immediately: one would dictate and the other would write, and they took their work to Manager Qiu of the Crane Pavilion. The manager found the story novel and immediately had the storyteller begin performing it at the pavilion. Within a few days, the place was packed to capacity, and they made a fortune. Wang Xuezhou earned his first bucket of gold—fifty taels!

However, when he told his family, he held back a portion. He was afraid that if he were too successful, they wouldn't know how to handle it. The bowl of talisman water he had been forced to drink at the Daoist temple when he was three remained a psychological shadow. Over the past two years, relying on the income from his book, *The Difference Between Immortals and Mortals*, he had given some to his family while secretly saving three hundred taels. He was effectively the secret tycoon of the Wang family.

Before dawn, Wang Chengzhi drove the ox cart they had acquired over the past two years to take him to the academy. As soon as he entered, the room was buzzing with noise.

"What are you all talking about?" Wang Xuezhou asked, curious as he put down his satchel.

Zhu An sighed. "Today is my last day of class. Tomorrow I head home to register for the preliminary prefectural examination."

Wang Xuezhou realized with a start that the exam season had arrived again. "Then I wish you a bright future and a top-ranking result."

Lü Dasheng grew impatient with their formalities. "Stop the pleasantries! Do you think Master will let Zhao Xing take the exam this year too?"

Zhao Xing looked both expectant and nervous. "I don’t think so? I haven't heard the Master mention it..."

"Why don't we go ask him? We’re only a year or two younger than Zhu An; he’s already taken it twice, and we haven't even been once! Whether we pass or not, it’s experience. We’ve studied for so long—we should at least test our standing," Xia Qianli said, unable to hold back as he tried to convince the others.