Volume One, Chapter Two: All Pursuits Are Inferior, Only Scholarship Stands Supreme

He was thoroughly familiar with the structure of classical essays—the introduction, development, turn, and conclusion, along with the tonal patterns and paired phrases—essentials dissected countless times in later scholarly analyses.

Quoting classics and interpreting subtle meanings? That was ingrained in him from endless days and nights poring over the Annotations on the Four Books—a compendium of imperial examination answers etched into his very soul.

He had even practiced calligraphy by copying the Orchid Pavilion Preface by the Sage of Calligraphy, Wang Xizhi, feeling the literary spirit of a thousand years flow from his brush.

He grasped Zhu Xi’s rigorous and practical philosophy of investigating things to extend knowledge, and could eloquently discuss Wang Yangming’s sudden enlightenment of the unity of knowledge and action.

Difficult problems in The Nine Chapters on the Mathematical Art? His past life’s study of the history of mathematics made solving basic calculations second nature.

Collections of top scholars’ essay analyses from successive imperial examinations had long engraved the strategies to conquer examiners deep within his bones.

The ingenious craftsmanship of the Exploitation of the Works of Nature, the rise and fall of flora in the Compendium of Materia Medica, the landscapes described in Xu Xiake’s Travel Diaries, the strategic wisdom of Sun Tzu’s Art of War… even the worldly insights of Thick Black Theory, the political debates in Discussions on Salt and Iron, and the common folk’s hardships in Essays of the Recluse!

All of these were the accumulations of his insatiable thirst for knowledge in a previous life, and now, they had transformed into the confidence with which he held his head high in this unfamiliar era.

From a certain perspective, this transmigration was nothing short of a gift.

In his former life, he had been merely a bookworm with some knowledge tucked inside. But in this life, he was the living embodiment of “heavenly principles,” a transcendent power striking down from a higher dimension!

“Scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants—all are lowly; only the pursuit of learning is noble!”

When Xiao Ning opened his eyes again, the path out of the mire was clearly laid beneath his feet, leading straight to the heights of success.

He was forged through hardship. In his previous life, orphaned and alone, raised in a children’s home amidst chaos, he clawed his way to the pinnacle of a doctoral degree through sheer grit. The bleakness of this dilapidated household before him might bring momentary discouragement, but it was far from breaking his spine.

At least this life, he had a family. That noisy, suffocating, yet genuine “family affection” was a warmth he had never tasted before.

Temporary poverty?

Not to be feared!

Xiao Ning tightened his small hand gripping the broom, his eyes sharp as blades sweeping over the eroded facade of the Xiao family courtyard.

He vowed to carve out a dignified existence on this strange soil of the dynasty beneath his feet!

Though now but a speck of dust, his heart still soared towards the azure sky!

“Dinner’s ready—”

Aunt Wang’s voice rang out from the cramped kitchen, momentarily halting the household’s bustling.

By the old wooden table in the main hall—its legs tied with hemp ropes after many years— the family sat down obediently, all gazing expectantly toward the kitchen.

In their bowls, coarse millet buns to soothe dry throats.

In the basin, a thin, watery noodle soup with barely a handful of rice grains.

There was also a plate of stir-fried shepherd’s purse, reheated multiple times with a faintly sour smell, and a bowl of boiled and chilled malan greens.

Only at the center of the table sat a large, glossy slab of smoked cured meat, its rich aroma breaking through the meager atmosphere, stealthily invading every nose and stirring deep cravings in their throats.

Xiao Ning cast a silent glance at the meat. It was the household’s “star performer.”

Sure enough, Grandma Yu’s cloudy eyes settled on the cured meat, flickering with a trace of nostalgia as her voice grew distant: “Back in the day… when your grandfather and great-grandfather were still alive, our family never lacked fish and meat. Those were the days, hmm…”

Eldest Uncle Xiao Bodu immediately chimed in respectfully, “Mother speaks truly! My younger brother and I will surely study hard, pass the exams early, and let you enjoy embroidered robes and jade belts every day, a life of ease and comfort!”

Aunt Wang followed quickly: “Mother manages the household best. Though we are poor, we live steadily and frugally. Many in the village envy us! This meat looks greasy and rich; better not to eat it.” She swallowed hard.

Xiao Ning’s father, Xiao Zhongyuan, unwilling to be outdone, said firmly, “When I was young, I followed my grandfather and father, eating all sorts of delicacies, which damaged my stomach. Now I prefer light food!”

Mrs. Zhou, holding her swollen belly, frowned in agreement: “Your wife has been suffering severe morning sickness lately; the smell of greasy food makes her nauseous…”

Ten-year-old Xiao Yaoer’s eyes were glued to the meat, struggling to swallow her drool: “I…I’m not craving it!” Her voice was faint.

Finally, the nominal third-generation eldest grandson, nine-year-old Xiao Yun, solemnly concluded, “Grandmother! This meat is no ordinary meat but a legacy from our ancestors, a constant reminder and warning to spur us on! Please keep it in the kitchen, so it can remind us to never forget the glory of our family name!” His earnest expression was almost comical.

Xiao Ning: “…”

He quietly turned his face away. Starving won’t help, and pretending not to want it won’t fill the belly! Could everyone please wipe the drool from the corners of their mouths before performing this act? Such Oscar-worthy acting! A troupe of lead actors and actresses!

“Good! Good! This is the spirit the children of the Xiao family should have!” Old Madam Yu was thoroughly pleased, her eyes moist with satisfaction. She waved a hand, “Eldest daughter-in-law, listen to Brother Yun and put the meat away.”

“Alright!” Wang responded swiftly, efficiently carrying the cured meat, whose symbolic value far exceeded its actual worth, back to the kitchen.

The air stiffened for a moment, then gave way to the soft clatter of chopsticks against bowls and muffled chewing.

The meal was hard to swallow. The coarse millet buns choked, the noodle soup was bland, the leftover shepherd’s purse carried a strange taste; only the boiled malan greens felt fresh. But in this place, having food on the table was already a blessing. Xiao Ning mimicked the others, quietly picking at the coarse fare.

After the meal, Old Madam Yu wiped her mouth with a rough cloth, her calm voice landing like a boulder thrown into still water: “Starting tomorrow, for dinner, each person will have a cooked egg. Eldest and second sons each get one; the remaining one you share.”

Eggs? The few eggs laid by the family’s only chickens were always carefully saved to trade for oil, salt, or small coins—luxuries! Yet when these words fell on the family’s ears, there was no joy, only a sudden tightening of the atmosphere, nearly snapping.

Xiao Ning understood clearly.

Of course—in just over half a month, the triennial county examination of the third year of Dayu would take place! Only those who passed would become scholars!

Grandmother intended to strengthen and nourish the two “precious ones” about to face the exams.

But…

This was the tenth time the father and eldest uncle were sitting for the county examination.

Ten years had passed, and ten failures.

The Xiao family’s ancestors had once been prosperous—so why had they fallen to this state? Was it not because they simultaneously supported two voracious but “fruitless” students?

All things are lowly? Yet this noble path seemed never truly open to these impoverished brothers.

The worry and struggle were plainly etched on the faces of Mrs. Zhou and Aunt Wang.

Xiao Zhongyuan’s eyes darkened instantly.

Yet looking at Old Madam Yu’s gaze, almost burning with obsession, the heavy phrase “no more exams” hung unspoken on every tongue, no one daring to utter it.

“Mother, I… I will surely pass this time!” Eldest Uncle Xiao Bodu took a deep breath, his voice trembling as he pledged again, forgetting how many times he had repeated the same powerless promise. From youthful ambition to disheartened despair, only he truly knew the bitter taste.

Old Madam Yu seemed unaffected, her eyes full of hopeful warmth: “Don’t feel pressured, study well, and take the exam carefully. Just a few days ago, your father appeared in my dream! He said you brothers have great fortune this year! I believe him! I have faith in both of you…”

She said, “Don’t feel pressured.”

Yet the almost obsessive fiery hope in her eyes was like two invisible hands strangling Xiao Bodu and Xiao Zhongyuan’s throats, suffocating them.

“Husband, younger brother, you… should go study now.” Finally, Aunt Wang timidly broke the suffocating silence.

Xiao Bodu and Xiao Zhongyuan, as if pardoned, almost fled back to their rooms.

Soon, the lamps in both rooms were lit, casting flickering shadows through the worn paper windows.

Old Madam Yu, Aunt Wang, and Mrs. Zhou sat silently on stone benches in the courtyard, beginning to clatter as they spun rough hemp threads.

Xiao Ning, Xiao Yun, and Xiao Yaoer, the three youngest, were called over to help with lighter tasks, smoothing out the hemp threads.

The hemp cloth wouldn’t sell for much, but to this destitute family, every penny was a lifeline.