Chapter Twenty-Seven: Second Brother Tricks Me Again

The mountain nights were deep and tranquil, with nothing but a solitary lamp shining in a distant thatched hut. It was autumn, the cold dew heavy. Mosquitoes were few, but the chill descended swiftly after dusk. Guo Lin and Zhang Yue had eaten half a flat cake each; then Guo Lin lit a lamp and began reading.

Zhang Yue managed only five or six pages before his eyelids drooped, unable to resist fatigue. Seeing this, Guo Lin spoke earnestly, “Brother, learning is like rowing upstream: if you don’t advance, you fall back. We’ve spent a whole day copying books and surely neglected our studies. If we don’t seize this moment to read, how will it suffice?”

Zhang Yue nodded, “You are right… I understand…” As he spoke, he yawned twice, long and loud, leaving Guo Lin both speechless and helpless. Zhang Yue forced himself to read a few more pages. Guo Lin, seeing his struggle, gently advised again, “I know you are gifted, quick to remember what you read. Yet relying solely on talent will one day prove inadequate…”

Zhang Yue nodded, “You speak truly. The so-called ‘natural talent’ is one part innate, ninety-nine parts diligence…” Guo Lin savored the phrase: ‘One part talent, ninety-nine parts effort.’ His brother was indeed remarkable—every word carried depth.

Guo Lin thought, Yes, even if he’s cleverer than I, with hard work, can I not equal him? He said with pleasure, “It’s good you understand this…”

But Zhang Yue interrupted, “Yet that one part of talent surpasses the ninety-nine parts effort. Without the right material, diligence is useless… Brother, I am exhausted. I’ve read a dozen pages, I’ll recite them as I sleep!” With that, he closed his book, climbed onto the bed, and slept fully clothed.

Guo Lin pondered Zhang Yue’s last words for a long while, speechless. “Recite while sleeping—I’ve never heard of such a method.” He saw Zhang Yue already breathing deeply, asleep, and admitted inwardly his own inferiority in falling asleep so fast, “At least wash up before bed… He must truly be tired.”

Truthfully, Guo Lin was no less weary; he had set out at dawn for the Zhang family academy, spent the day copying books, and returned home only at this hour, physically and mentally spent. But he understood that neglecting daily studies easily bred fatigue and laziness.

“Learning is like rowing upstream: if you don’t advance, you fall back!” Guo Lin encouraged himself. At his limit, he rose and splashed his face with cold water from the earthen basin…

Suddenly, that familiar scent… Why had his brother not spared even the basin in the corner…

The next morning.

The two brothers rose.

Zhang Yue, seeing Guo Lin’s exhausted face, asked, “Brother, are you all right? Should we take the day off?”

Guo Lin waved him off, “I’m fine. I can manage. Today we must ask the steward how much we earned yesterday. We need to clarify every rule so we don’t get cheated later.”

“You’re right. How many pages did you copy yesterday?” Zhang Yue asked.

“Fifty-seven,” Guo Lin replied.

Zhang Yue was surprised, “That’s one hundred ninety-nine and a half coins, nearly two hundred in a day!”

Local laborers in Pucheng typically earned seventy-five to a hundred coins a day, two or three strings a month.

Guo Lin thought, My brother’s calculation is truly sharp.

Guo Lin smiled wryly, “Two hundred coins is much, but neglecting studies is not worth it. If not for father’s illness, I would not have done this. May he recover soon, so I can return to my studies.”

“You only earned one coin, but let’s ask anyway—a meal shouldn’t cost dozens of coins!” Zhang Yue said.

“Don’t bother, the steward clearly meant to make things difficult for me. Whatever he says, goes,” Zhang Yue replied.

Guo Lin insisted, “Still, it’s worth arguing. We must try. Hurry, I asked mother to prepare ring cakes for us, so we can eat as we walk and save time.”

The ring cake in the north is fried dough, but in the Tang dynasty it was a cake with a hole in the center, strung together and hung on a pack for travel. The Song dynasty in the south retained the Tang name and used it as travel food.

“Good! I’ll fetch a bamboo tube for water—the cake is dry!” Zhang Yue said.

“Bring extra, you’ve been a bit fiery lately,” Guo Lin advised.

Zhang Yue muttered as he fetched water, “How do you know I’m fiery? Are you Gou Jian?” The two set out early, taking an hour to reach South Peak.

Upon arrival at the academy, they asked Zhang Heng about yesterday’s wages. Zhang Heng replied impatiently, “Why ask me? Go ask the registrar.”

In the Song dynasty, the Imperial Academy had stewards and registrars. The steward was like a university counselor; the registrar, like a teaching assistant—though in the academy, both roles were filled by senior students. The origins of this system were unclear, but said to date from Fan Zhongyan’s reforms, modeled on Hu Yuan’s teaching methods. Hu Yuan was a famous scholar though not an official, praised as a ‘teacher of the world in plain clothes.’

Hu Yuan had taught in Suzhou and Huzhou, advocating ‘clarity of principle and practical application.’ His students were divided into the ‘Classics Pavilion’ and ‘Practical Affairs Pavilion,’ pioneering departmental teaching and individualized instruction.

The Classics Pavilion trained scholar-type talents; the Practical Affairs Pavilion, in addition to classics, taught martial arts, arts, hydraulics, politics, and more, specifically to cultivate officials.

Fan Zhongyan’s reforms adopted Hu Yuan’s Su-Hu methods and even had his two sons apprentice under Hu Yuan. After Fan Zhongyan, Ouyang Xiu liked to recruit Hu Yuan’s disciples; at the time, among candidates for the Ministry of Rites, four or five in ten were Hu Yuan’s students. Wang Anshi also favored Hu Yuan’s disciples as reform leaders.

Hu Yuan’s fame was immense. It was said, “One’s speech and demeanor, without asking, marks him as Hu Yuan’s student. Scholars talking to teachers, without asking, marks him as Hu Yuan.” As for using students to manage the academy and train them for future official duties, this was Hu Yuan’s teaching aim.

This reminded Zhang Yue of the student council in later times; in university, everyone cursed the student council, but after the fact, would they truly do better if given power themselves?

The registrar Zhang Heng mentioned was the other student who interviewed Zhang Yue and Guo Lin.

The registrar, upon seeing them, smiled, “I reviewed your copying yesterday—almost no errors or omissions, very good!”

“Thank you for your praise,” Guo Lin replied.

The registrar said to Guo Lin, “You copied fifty-seven pages, at three and a half coins per page, that comes to one hundred ninety-nine and a half coins.” He opened a ledger, wrote the amount next to Guo Lin’s name, and said, “After three days, you may settle daily. The first three days serve as a deposit. Any objections?”

“We follow your instructions.”

The registrar looked to Zhang Yue, “I hear the steward said you exchanged two coins for one coin as payment for lunch?”

“It’s true,” Zhang Yue replied.

The registrar said, “How many coins do you earn in a day? It’s a loss, but rules must be followed. I saw you copied a bit more than one page yesterday; I’ll count it as two pages, so seventy-two coins.”

Zhang Yue and Guo Lin exchanged delighted glances.

“Thank you, registrar,” Guo Lin answered for both.

Zhang Yue also clasped his hands in gratitude.

The registrar laughed, “The lunch is set by the steward, but I’ll count generously for you—don’t thank me, it’s because you made so few mistakes, it saves me trouble. The academy accounts are complex; I need help. I may ask you to assist for a few days, but this won’t earn wages.”

Zhang Yue thought, This benefits both him and me. “I await your instructions.”

The registrar nodded.

Guo Lin asked, “May I know your full name?”

“Zhang Cai.”

Zhang Yue thought for a moment—no famous historical figure came to mind. A pity.

Registrar Zhang Cai turned to Zhang Yue, “I saw your family record yesterday; you are the brother of Zhang Xu from the county academy?”

Guo Lin looked at Zhang Yue in surprise. Zhang Yue acknowledged, “Yes, he is my second brother; I am third in the family. Do you know him?”

Zhang Cai smiled, “So you are Third Young Master Zhang. I am honored. I wouldn’t say I am familiar with your brother, but we’ve met a few times. When Master Chen was in Ren, he brought county academy students to South Peak to join our clan’s disciples for an outing.”

“That day was the Double Ninth Festival; we all wore cornelia blossoms in our hair, drank osmanthus wine, composed poetry, played games, and shot arrows—a joyous occasion.”

“Both teachers were present; the students from each side inevitably compared themselves, and after a few drinks, competed in scholarship. Your brother stole the show, impressing everyone with his literary talent and even besting all in games. I recall his style—bold, yet somewhat reckless, but truly brilliant. I was thoroughly convinced at the time!”

Zhang Yue imagined his brother’s exploits: at the Double Ninth Festival, all drinking in front of Chen Xiang and the teachers, a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old youth outshining all the county’s talented young men. It must have been exhilarating.

Yet Zhang Yue reconsidered: his brother flaunting his talent on others’ territory—wouldn’t that attract resentment?

Indeed, Zhang Cai continued, “Were it not for your resemblance to your brother, I wouldn’t have paid special attention to your family record.”

“But Ziping has always resented it. He prides himself greatly, and besides your brother, he has never lost to anyone. Best not to tell him you are Zhang Xu’s brother.”

Zhang Yue was speechless; his brother’s actions still caused trouble for him. Even lying low, he was dragged into conflicts.

And Master Chen—why bring county students to compete with the clan? Wasn’t that deliberately showing up the hosts? If my brother weren’t from a distant branch, he would have studied at the clan academy, but he went to the county academy instead. Now, a distant branch youth challenged them all, and the clan disciples lost face—how could they bear it?

Damn, this feud is set in stone. My brother leaves trouble wherever he goes.

Ps: Chen Xiang’s two poems:

“On the Ninth Day, with Pucheng County Students, Visiting South Peak Academy”

On the Ninth Day, yellow flowers bloom, new wine bubbles green. Games resound with drums, songs echo like merchants’ tunes. The youths are splendidly dressed, the sages uphold rites and music. The western rock has fine scenery; I compose an ode for you.

“In the Fourth Year of Huang You, Returning to South Peak Temple in Pucheng, Reminiscing Old Journeys”

Returned to South Peak Temple, recalling the Ninth Day outing. Where are the yellow flowers now? Who keeps the white snow? A minor official three thousand miles from home, forty autumns have passed. Returned, I meet old friends among the woods—how pleasant to gather here.