On the way back to the academy, Lin Fangqi hovered beside Lin Fangxu, clearly wanting to speak yet holding back. Fangxu pretended not to notice. Only when they were nearly at the academy gates did Fangqi finally blurt out, unable to contain himself:
“Xu-ge’er, what did Cousin ask you to consult the teacher about?”
“You guess,” Lin Fangxu replied lightly. “—”
Master Xu, given name Zhao, courtesy name Bodao, had been the top graduate of Suzhou in the tenth year of the Hongwu reign. He had studied alongside Fangxu’s eldest uncle. Later, on his way to the capital to sit the metropolitan examination, he was attacked by bandits and injured his leg. Though he recovered, he was left with a slight limp and abandoned all thought of officialdom.
Whether the bandits had truly been bandits, and why they targeted him alone—who could say? Disheartened, Master Xu left his family’s Suzhou residence and settled in Wuyi County, where his wife’s family lived, opening a private academy there.
The academy stood beside Qixia Lake. It had once been part of Madam Xu’s dowry estate.
Master Xu renamed it Qixia Academy, claiming the name suited the scenery.
Jiangnan was a land rich in culture. Though Wuyi County did not rival places like Yuyao or Shanyin, where nearly every household educated its sons, its scholarly atmosphere was far from weak. Yet Master Xu’s standards were exacting. Though called an academy, Qixia enrolled fewer students than some village schools—barely forty in total.
The estate comprised three courtyards. Beyond the main gate lay a vast training ground, large enough to ride a horse in circles. Wooden posts and archery targets stood ready. The eastern wing had been converted into stables; the western wing housed changing rooms and a weapons storeroom. Up marble steps stood three main halls—the central one served as the students’ study hall, while the other two held the academy’s library.
The second courtyard was larger still, ringed by covered corridors. Bamboo and flowering shrubs lined winding paths. In the central hall stood the master’s desk and rows of bookshelves. Two lecture rooms flanked the hall—students still studying the Four Books attended one side; those who had completed them and moved on to the Five Classics studied on the other. Three side rooms on each flank housed students from distant villages. Opposite the main hall stood the kitchen and a modest dining hall.
The third courtyard resembled a small garden, complete with rockeries, ponds, pavilions, and terraces. Master Xu’s private study overlooked a lotus pond.
When Lin Fangxu arrived at the master’s study, Master Xu had just returned from lecture.
Fangxu hurried forward in greeting.
Seeing his favored student, Xu Zhao smiled warmly. “Your complexion looks much improved. Have you recovered?”
“Thank you for your concern, sir. I am much better. If you have the time, I have a question to ask.”
“Oh? Then come inside and speak.”
Master Xu seated himself in a reclining chair, took a sip of freshly brewed tea, and gestured for Fangxu to speak.
Without circumlocution, Fangxu said directly, “Sir, I wish to sit the county examination next year. Do you think it feasible?”
Master Xu knew well that this student surpassed most in intellect. His grounding in the Four Books and Five Classics was solid. Only his youth and lack of worldly experience gave pause; otherwise, the master himself would have urged him to attempt the exam.
Since the resolve came from the boy himself, he would not discourage it. With a teasing snort, he said, “If I say no, will you stay?”
“Of course. I would not dare disregard your word,” Fangxu replied with a faint smile.
“Then go if you must. Better to weigh yourself early and learn your own measure. I will not ask why you decided so suddenly. As it happens, I intend to assign additional work to those sitting next year’s exam. Since you are so eager, you may join them—but do not complain when the
burden grows heavy.”
Having said his piece, Master Xu lifted his tea in dismissal.
“Then I shall take my leave,” Fangxu said, bowing before withdrawing.
Xu Zhao watched his departing figure. The youth’s frame was slender, yet upright as green bamboo. Something about him seemed changed since his return—steadier, perhaps, or deeper.
923925192840
Fangxu headed straight to the dining hall. Fangqi waved him over excitedly.
“Xu-ge! I snatched a chicken leg for you. I treat you well, don’t I? What did you say to the master just now? Tell me!”
Fangxu had no intention of concealing it. “Nothing much. I told him I intend to sit next year and asked his opinion.”
“Oh.”
“Pff—!”
Fangqi choked violently, coughing.
“You’re going next year? Isn’t that too early? Though… your essays are better than mine. You read more too. Ai…”
He stared down at his bowl, appetite gone. He had failed once already. If Fangxu passed while he failed again—even if Sister-in-law said nothing—how humiliating it would be. No, he must return and study at once.
Fangxu watched his cousin cough, mutter, slap the table, then abruptly shovel rice into his mouth before announcing, “I’m going back to review,” and bolting like a gust of wind.
Rolling his eyes, Fangxu continued eating at his usual unhurried pace.
Back in the lecture hall, Fangqi was already seated, rocking slightly as he recited under his breath. Fangxu did not disturb him, simply settled into his own seat and opened his book.
Qixia Academy did not teach elementary primers; instruction began directly with the Four Books. Students who mastered them and passed assessment moved on to the Five Classics.
Master Xu alternated between the two tracks—one morning the Four Books, the next afternoon the Five Classics. Fangxu had entered the academy at eight. By ten he had completed the Four Books and begun the Five Classics. In his previous life, at this point he had only just skimmed through them once.
Today’s lecture was on the Classics. The master proceeded in sequence—The Book of Songs, The Book of Documents, The Book of Rites, The Book of Changes, and The Spring and Autumn Annals—repeating the cycle every few months. For those aiming at the examinations, how much they absorbed depended on innate comprehension.
Seated behind the great desk, Master Xu intoned, “Today we continue with the Spring and Autumn Annals.”
His voice flowed steadily. “Mencius once said: ‘When the world declines and the Way grows faint, perverse doctrines and violent acts arise; ministers slay their rulers, sons slay their fathers. Confucius, fearing this, composed the Spring and Autumn Annals.’ The Annals records events spanning two hundred and forty-two years—from the first year of Duke Yin of Lu to the
fourteenth year of Duke Ai…”
Lin Fangxu listened intently. The restlessness that had accompanied his rebirth vanished. Never had he felt so certain of his purpose.
In his previous life, entangled in factional strife, he died under a cloud of disgrace. He bore no hatred—but he could not accept it.
This time, he would live as his ancestors had: in life, a capable minister in a well-governed age; in death, a name remembered in history.
After the lecture, Master Xu instructed the others to review and summoned those intending to sit the exam into the main hall.
Aside from the Lin brothers, only three were under twenty; the remaining eight were all in their twenties, evidently repeat candidates.
Addressing the eight first, Master Xu said, “You have each sat at least twice. As before, study model essays carefully before attempting your own compositions. Submit at least one essay every half month.”
They assented and returned to their seats.
Turning to the younger group, he gestured toward several thick stacks of papers. “These are copies of the court gazettes from the first year of Jianwen to the present. In addition to your regular studies, you will finish reading them within half a month. I expect to hear your
reflections.”
Then he addressed Fangxu specifically. “Your second brother has sat twice, but I doubt he has seriously read the gazettes even once. Tell him he must finish them this time.”
The students divided the gazettes by year, exchanging them every two days. Fangxu took the
volume from the first year of Jianwen and headed home after class. Perhaps stung by Fangxu’s resolve, Fangqi went straight home as well, abandoning his usual idle wanderings.
923925196199
“‘The Master said: When three walk together, there must be one who can teach me… In discussion with my fellow examinees, I gained much…’”
As Fangxu entered the house, he saw his second brother seated below, discoursing enthusiastically. His elder brother sat above, tea in hand, listening with visible impatience.
Spotting Fangxu, Fangqin quickly asked, “You’re back. What did the master say?” Fangxu set down his satchel. “He agreed—and assigned additional work.”
“Agreed to what? What are you two talking about?” Lin Fangming asked, puzzled.
“I intend to sit next year. Elder Brother asked me to consult the master. Also, the master has required us to finish reading the court gazettes since the fifth year of Jianwen within half a month. Second Brother, you—”
“Enough, enough. I know,” Fangming cut in irritably. “I was told to read them before as well. Page after page of official trivialities. Vulgar.”
Bang!
Fangqin slammed his teacup onto the table. “Whom are you slighting?”
Fangming flushed but fell silent.
Fangxu lowered his gaze. In matters of seniority, it was not his place to speak.
“Come, let’s eat,” Zhao Shiyue called, stepping in and sensing the tension. The hired cook had taken leave for the busy season; Shiyue had only just finished preparing the meal after soothing little Sanmu.
923925195755
Later, in their chamber, Zhao Shiyue could not resist asking, “What were you discussing earlier? You all looked displeased. Surely not from hunger?”
“What nonsense.” Fangqin pinched his nose lightly, smiling. “We were discussing Third Brother’s examinations.”
Shiyue batted his hand away, eyes turning thoughtful. “Mu-father mentioned the spring tea harvest next year. What do you plan?”
Seeing the hope in his expression, Fangqin sighed. “Yueyue, you know my intention.”
Shiyue’s shoulders slumped. “I know… We wait until after this year’s exams. Don’t worry—I already declined Mu-father’s suggestion. He’ll explain to Father.”
Drawing him into an embrace, Fangqin kissed his hair. “You truly are my worthy partner.”
Shiyue’s ears reddened, sweetness in his smile—but unease lingered. Every matter now yielded to the examinations of two younger brothers. Whether it would all come to fruition remained uncertain.
923925193337
