Miao Chu

Chapter 15 Rhubarb
Cheng Zijian handed over the article and stood obediently to the side, not daring to sit, bowing his head as if meeting a teacher.

The other party didn't stand on ceremony with him. He picked up a pen and started marking up the paper as he read it. After finishing in a short while, he looked up at the water clock, placed the article on the table in front of Cheng Zijian, and said, "There's still a quarter of an hour until the bell rings. If you're in a hurry, take it back and read it later."

Cheng Zijian couldn't wait to go back; he eagerly picked up the paper and began to read the annotations.

Contrary to his expectations, there were few comments on his writing style or framework; instead, most of the content was analysis of the viewpoints presented in the article.

Which viewpoints are usable, which are not, why are they usable, why are they not usable, and if we want to use them, from which directions can we continue writing?

After carefully reading it once, Cheng Zijian suddenly felt enlightened, as if struck by a thunderbolt.

It was clearly his own opinion, but when he wrote it, he was actually a little hesitant. He didn't know how to choose what to include or how to delve deeper into it.

Having received this insightful guidance, which truly hit the nail on the head, he continued to think about it, and the path that had previously been blocked suddenly became clear.

What surprised him even more was that these contents were clearly what he was thinking, but for some reason he had previously found it difficult to extract and express them. The other person's organization of them was like untangling the messy knot in his mind, making everything clear and easy to understand.

He'll go back and revise it; the revised version will be entirely his own.

There may be no inherent superiority or inferiority in teaching methods, but there are certainly methods that are suitable or unsuitable.

Although it was not a good idea to think this way, Cheng Zijian always had a feeling that this kind of earnest instruction might be more suitable for him than the teachers in the classroom...

Cheng Zijian felt a surge of warmth in his heart and couldn't help but take a few steps forward, bowing again before asking, "I am deeply grateful for your guidance today. I will rewrite this article as soon as I get back—I am deeply grateful and cannot express my thanks. May I ask your honorable name, brother?"

The person opposite said, "My surname is Han."

After he finished speaking, he pointed to the water clock in the corner and said, "The bell is about to ring—why aren't you running?"

Cheng Zijian followed his gaze and indeed found that it was less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea before the bell was to be rung.

He was startled and, no longer caring about the name, quickly bowed, thanked him, grabbed the article that Zheng Yan had thrown at him earlier, and the article he had just written with annotations by the person in question, and ran away.

He ran as fast as he could, and by the time Cheng Zijian finally reached the outer dormitory and sat down in his seat, the bell outside began to ring.

His throat was dry and parched, feeling like it was being cut by a knife. His mind was still a bit fuzzy. After a while, he heard the teacher who had just entered the room start his lesson, and then he slowly went to get his books.

He had only gotten half of the book when he suddenly realized something.

His surname is Han.

Han Zhengyan.

He felt as if his head had been snapped by a rubber band, and almost stood up. He barely managed to control himself and hurriedly went to look at the article by Han Zhengyan that he had just brought back. Looking down, he saw that the author's name was listed after the title on the far right.

It is clearly the most common official script, but this stroke is written differently from others, with the strokes being more upright and firm, as if it has its own unique style.

The name has only two characters.

Han Li.

After looking at the name several times, Cheng Zijian finally realized what it meant.

It turns out he was actually Han Li.

It should be known that in the past few years, there have been four outstanding students at the Imperial Academy. Not only are they well-known to all students in the capital, but even when he was still in Fuzhou, he had heard his teacher mention their names and had privately copied their articles.

The four people are Han Li, Kong Fuyang, Dou Yingchang and Cai Xiu.

Han Li ranked first among them.

Han Li, courtesy name Zhengyan. The name Zhengyan was personally given to him by the late Confucian scholar Fu Jiu.

This man was well-versed in classical texts and excelled in both poetry and prose. His writing, in particular, had a unique style that set him apart from others. However, as famous as his writing was his temperament.

He is upright, aloof, and speaks out when he sees something he doesn't like.

He was clearly just a student at the Imperial Academy, but precisely because he was just a student, he had a stronger presence in the court than many censors—simply because he was incredibly good at scolding.

At the end of last year, there were consecutive heavy snowfalls, and many refugees in the capital and surrounding areas froze to death. He went there once, and when he came back, he wrote an article. He didn't talk about how miserable the refugees were, but first talked about how Cao Xiangong's son raised a fighting rooster named Dahuang.

He praised the big yellow dog for its magnificent appearance and its powerful abilities, extolling everything from its comb to its feathers and claws. He also praised its luxurious living quarters and exquisite food, with several people serving it, grooming its feathers, and peeling the hearts of vegetables for it—only the two tenderest leaves from each vegetable.

After praising the fighting rooster at Master Cao's house, he changed the subject and started talking about the local dog raised by an old woman in Xiangfu County, whose name was also Dahuang.

The old woman's husband had passed away, and she had no children, leaving her only with a four-year-old granddaughter.

Besides looking after her granddaughter and doing odd jobs, she spends the rest of her time tending to her dozen or so chickens. Once she has enough eggs, she goes to the market to sell them to make a living.

The dog's main job was to guard the house, and its secondary job was to accompany its young master. It was sometimes hungry and sometimes full. It was thin and small, with a limp leg—it was broken when the table crushed it while protecting its young master. It was also losing its fur and whiskers.

Who would have thought that one day, both the chicken and the dog would be stolen in the middle of the night.

The old woman wept before the village head, who then pleaded with the village chief. In the end, the thief was captured from among the refugees heading north.

The thief stole the chicken not to eat it, but to raise it, while the dog was already in the pot.

The old woman took the chickens and a pot of dogs home, but unfortunately the hens were frightened and could no longer lay eggs. In the end, she had no choice but to sell them as broiler chickens at a low price.

The little granddaughter, unaware of what had happened, cried and fussed all day, only wanting Da Huang.

The old woman looked at the pot with tears in her eyes.

In the end, he didn't actually offer any commentary, only lamenting that if Big Yellow had intelligence and were to be reborn, he wondered whether it would prefer to return to its original owner as a dog or be a chicken in the Cao family's household.

But what choice does it have?

The official in charge of comforting the refugees this time was recommended by Minister Cao. He recently submitted a memorial stating that the refugees have shelter and food, are in good order, and do not harm the locals in any way.

This article first circulated among the students of the Imperial Academy, and within a few days, everyone in the streets and alleys knew that there was a dog named Dahuang in Xiangfu County, and that Cao Xiangong's family had a chicken named Dahuang.

The common people couldn't help but sigh at the loyalty of the yellow dog, and then curse the good fortune of the yellow rooster.

As for the rest of the comments, that's left to the reader's imagination, not the article itself.

The next day, the article was placed on the emperor's desk.

After the court session that day, a meeting was held in the Chuigong Hall. As the meeting was about to end, the emperor, in front of the two high-ranking officials, suddenly asked Minister Cao, "I heard that Minister Cao has a young son who is fond of cockfighting?"

Cao Xianggong has accumulated merits over many years, and his status will not be affected by his son raising a chicken or his own mistake in recommending someone.

However, since then, political enemies have often used this incident to attack them.

To clear his name, he requested a pay cut and voluntarily demoted the student in charge of comforting refugees. For a long time, he kept a low profile and strictly disciplined his children, fearing that they might cause any more trouble.

And this is just one of Han Li's many insults.

Many thanks to book lover 20200119065256035 for sending me the sachet! ^_^
Thank you to the Yellow Scorpio Palace for the peace charm! =3=
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(End of this chapter)