Chapter 11: What a Disgrace to Us Scholars!

Lin Ze's head was nearly pressed to the desk, face to face with the table, when he heard the teacher call out Li Su's name. Startled, he looked up, only to see Li Su lift his head with poise and meet the teacher's gaze.

Lin Ze thought helplessly, Of course, who else would be called but you?

He cast Li Su a glance full of sympathy. Li Su himself was baffled, having thought the teacher would pick someone else—he was curious to see who the unlucky person would be, never expecting it to be him. How could he admit that he hadn’t finished reading some of the books? It would be ridiculous if he couldn’t answer anything. The only book he had thoroughly read was The Analects.

He had been recovering from illness recently and hadn’t planned on taking the civil service exam, so he hadn’t studied much. Only in the past couple of days had he decided to participate, so naturally, he hadn’t caught up with all the material.

Li Su rose with composure. His posture was upright, his garments flowing elegantly, as if he carried an innate ease. He crossed his arms before his chest and bowed to the teacher.

All the other students turned their eyes to him. Chen Ping, in particular, wore an expression eager to witness a spectacle, ready for Li Su to make a fool of himself.

Chen Ping was aware of Li Su’s injury—it was rather severe—and was certain he hadn’t been able to study during this time.

The teacher, hands clasped behind his back, approached Li Su. “Today, let’s test you on The Analects.”

Hearing this, Li Su relaxed considerably. If it was The Analects, he wouldn’t be humiliated.

The teacher recited, “Rule the people with political measures and regulate them with punishments, and they will evade the laws but lack a sense of shame.”

Li Su responded, “Guide them with virtue and regulate them with rites, and they will have a sense of shame and become orderly.”

The teacher continued, “The gentleman understands righteousness.”

Li Su replied, “The petty man understands profit.”

Back and forth they went, Li Su neither hurried nor delayed, answering each line with clarity and confidence. His voice rang bright and clear, each word precise as pearls falling onto a jade plate.

The teacher nodded with satisfaction. “It appears you’ve not been idle lately. You may sit down.”

Lin Ze turned to look at Li Su in surprise. He had worried needlessly—Li Su dared to meet the teacher’s gaze only because he was sure he could answer. Everyone else could manage, but Lin Ze just couldn’t bring himself to study.

In truth, Li Su was used to this. He had never avoided his teachers’ eyes, but they rarely called on him, knowing he could always give the answer.

He hadn’t quite adjusted to the present—this teacher was not like those from his past.

Chen Ping was utterly perplexed, even somewhat uneasy. Li Su at this moment reminded him of the first time they had met—the spirited, uninhibited youth he once knew.

No, the current Li Su was more than just spirited; he carried a newfound steadiness and restraint, even more dazzling than before…

Chen Ping couldn’t accept it. It was as if he had tried to drag someone into the mire, but that person had climbed out, washed away the filth, and shone with brilliance, while he himself remained stuck in the mud. How could he accept that?

No—he must pull Li Su back into the mire!

Li Su listened attentively during class, asking questions whenever he didn’t understand something.

Recitation wasn’t difficult for him; it just required some time. The challenge lay in understanding and applying the material—making the knowledge his own, then expressing it through poetry, prose, or essays. That was no simple task.

In this regard, he was a true novice. If he wanted to sit for the exams next year, he would have to devote himself wholly to his studies.

Li Su had already mapped out his own plan: the first phase would focus on reading and memorizing the classics, building a foundation for poetry and essay writing, while simultaneously learning the structure and techniques of eight-legged essays.

He thought to himself, burning the midnight oil by candlelight would be his fate from now on. Yet, this time he wouldn’t study all night—there was no end to learning, but he wouldn’t let himself collapse from exhaustion again. He’d need to pace himself.

Li Su absorbed knowledge eagerly during class. Afterward, he planned to find a bookshop to read, since he couldn’t afford to buy books now—he could only read them in the shop.

Bookshops generally didn’t drive away readers who didn’t buy, unless they occupied space for too long and affected business; only then would the attendants intervene.

At noon, everyone found their own place to eat. Li Su had brought steamed buns and pickles—soupy dishes were inconvenient to carry, or else his mother would have sent him with stewed cabbage and meat.

He had never eaten steamed buns and pickles before, and felt a certain curiosity about them.

He found them quite palatable. Lin Ze’s servant delivered his lunch and, spotting Li Su, approached with the food box.

The two who usually ate with Lin Ze were baffled.

“Lin, where are you going? We’re over here!”

Without looking back, Lin Ze replied, “I’m going to find Li Su.”

The two exchanged glances, then followed with their own food.

Lin Ze’s meals were the best among them—his family was the wealthiest and he was generous, though his father was… complicated, to say the least.

“Do you think Lin wants Li Su to join us?”

“Maybe. I don’t mind—I think Li Su has guts. I don’t feel any animosity toward him now.”

It wasn’t that they rejected students from the villages; rather, some of those students bore a strange sense of superiority and hostility toward them. Naturally, they didn’t feel inclined to warm up to cold shoulders.

Then there were those who acted friendly in person but spoke ill of them behind their backs. Over time, the two groups simply stopped interacting.

Li Su felt different from those others.

When Lin Ze reached him, he saw Li Su munching on a steamed bun with relish, and felt a twinge of pity.

Unaware of Lin Ze’s thoughts, Li Su simply found the cold buns a bit dry, but the taste was novel. The pickles were surprisingly chewy.

He had a copy of The Great Learning at hand, flipping through it as he chewed.

Lin Ze was speechless.

Was this diligence or not? He was flipping pages quickly, yet even while eating, he was reading.

Lin Ze set his food box on the table. “Let’s eat together.”

Li Su, holding his white bun, looked dazed. “Huh? You want to try the buns? Help yourself.”

Apparently, Lin Ze wanted to experience their taste.

Lin Ze hesitated—if he didn’t take one, would Li Su think he looked down on him?

Finally, Lin Ze took a bun and opened his own food box, laying out several meat dishes.

“Brother Li, let’s share.”

Li Su glanced over. “Not bad at all—these buns are having a great day: one bun, several meat dishes.”

Lin Ze laughed, seeing Li Su’s natural expression, without a trace of embarrassment. Lin Ze felt his spirits lift; he knew he hadn’t misjudged this person.

Just then, the two friends who usually ate with Lin Ze arrived. “Little Ze, we’ll have some too.”

“Go ahead.”

They noticed the cold buns in Lin Ze’s hand and could only shake their heads. Only Li Su could get Lin Ze to eat cold buns.

They set out their own food as well, and everyone ate together.

Suddenly, someone muttered nearby, “That Li Su—just for a few mouthfuls of food, he’s willing to become Lin Ze’s lapdog. He’s a disgrace to scholars everywhere!”