The Ming Dynasty: My sister, Empress Ma

Lan Yu suddenly spoke, her voice a few decibels lower than before.

"Your Excellency, could I borrow this picture to make a copy?"

Ma Wenyuan glanced at him and said without hesitation, "If Brother Lan wants it, I'll have Fang Xiaoru make a copy and send it to you later. But there's one condition: Brother Lan, you should keep it to yourself and not tell anyone else."

Lan Yu solemnly cupped his hands in greeting.

"Your humble servant understands."

Seeing that the time was right, Chang Lan smiled and turned the conversation back to the three children.

"Your Excellency, we hope you will take good care of Mao'er and the others' enrollment in school."

"These three children have lost their father, and as their mother, I can't teach them any real skills. It's their blessing that they can learn something practical from the Emperor's brother-in-law."

Chang Lan's purpose in coming here was actually simple: firstly, to help Lan Yu and Ma Wenyuan reconcile their differences.

Chang Yuchun is dead, and now the Chang family lives on the meager pity they receive from those who have risen to power.

Serving a ruler is like serving a tiger; who knows when the superior will lose his favor towards Chang Yuchun?

Chang Lan felt it would be inappropriate to offend Ma Wenyuan, the emperor's brother-in-law, at a time like this.

Secondly, it was naturally for the sake of her three sons, and Chang Lan was also thinking about this principle.

He arranged for his three sons to become Ma Wenyuan's disciples, so that they would have a powerful backer in the future.

Although Ma Wenyuan had visited the Chang residence before, it was clear that she valued this trip even more because she was making it in person again.

Ma Wenyuan waved his hand.

"You're too kind, Madam."

"It is an honor for my humble abode that you gentlemen have graced us with your presence."

At this point, Ma Wenyuan looked at the younger children and smiled.

"However, there is one condition: my school does not teach the rigid, formulaic style of classical Chinese literature, nor does it teach poetry. It teaches practical skills. You might need to tend a stove, do manual labor, draw blueprints, or calculate data. If you gentlemen do not mind, I will naturally teach you everything I know."

Chang Mao's expression clearly showed reluctance, but he remained silent because his mother was present.

Chang Sheng nodded slightly, while Chang Sen couldn't wait to ask, "Sir, can I learn to draw maps?"

Xiao Deng seems to care a lot about this.

Ma Wenyuan never discouraged his students' ambition, even if he wasn't very good at drawing; he simply smiled and said...

"able."

Seizing the opportunity, Chang Lan turned to Lan Yu and said...

"Didn't you just say you wanted to hear a lecture from the Emperor's brother-in-law?"

Lan Yu's lips twitched. She wanted to refute, but then she looked at the map on the wall and at Ma Wenyuan's calm gaze.

The words that were about to come out were: "If I have the time, I will certainly come to seek your guidance."

Ma Wenyuan smiled, neither putting on airs nor making any deliberate attempt to get close.

"You're welcome anytime."

After three rounds of tea, Chang Lan rose to take her leave.

Chang Mao felt as if he had been granted a pardon, and he quickly got up, taking the biggest steps.

Chang Sheng bowed respectfully.

Chang Sen reluctantly turned back to take one last look at the map.

Lan Yu walked at the back, and just before leaving, she suddenly stopped and turned around.

"Your Excellency, the Imperial Brother-in-Law," Lan Yu paused, as if making a decision, "what happened that night on Mid-Autumn Festival... was my fault."

Ma Wenyuan looked at him with a calm gaze.

"Brother Lan is joking."

"What happened that night of the Mid-Autumn Festival? I don't remember."

Lan Yu paused for a moment, then smiled, cupped his hands in greeting, turned and strode away.

……

After Lan Yu left.

Many other dignitaries also want to visit.

Ma Wenyuan naturally couldn't sit idle; he had to personally entertain each of them.

It wasn't until three days later that the matter was finally resolved.

At the same time, the wedding date was also set.

This winter.

After Ma Wenyuan got married, Xiao Zhu followed closely behind.

He could never get married before his uncle.

……

This matter has now come to an end.

Ma Wenyuan did not rest.

The schoolhouse he built on Jilong Mountain is now officially completed.

He also needs to oversee the enrollment process and deliver lectures.

...the Hongwu Emperor's brother-in-law

Jilongshan School Opening

October is an auspicious month for breaking ground, construction, and starting school.

Two months ago, this open space at the foot of Jilong Mountain was a barren, rocky area overgrown with weeds, but now it has been transformed into a neat and orderly courtyard.

The building is surrounded by blue brick walls and has a black lacquered gate. Above the gate hangs a plaque with the four characters "Gewu Academy" inscribed on it. This is a piece of calligraphy left by Old Zhu.

The brushstrokes are vigorous and powerful, with inner strength and substance; anyone who can read can immediately sense their weight and significance.

It's not hard to see that Lao Zhu put in some effort.

Ma Wenyuan stood in front of the gate, his hands behind his back, looking at the plaque, his heart filled with indescribable feelings.

The name is "Gewu Academy," which sounds refined.

But Ma Wenyuan knew in his heart that what he was going to teach here was surveying, casting, optics, gunpowder formulation, and river dredging.

It teaches the practical knowledge that the Ming Dynasty desperately needed.

But teaching in this day and age is a long and arduous journey.

The weather was fine on the first day of school.

The red leaves on Jilong Mountain are about to fall, while crowds throng the foot of the mountain.

Not all the attendees were students; many were parents.

People dropping off their children, watching the excitement, and gathering information crowded the school gate.

Ma Wenyuan stood on the steps, wearing a slightly worn dark blue robe, his hair neatly combed, with a faint smile on his face, but without deliberately trying to appear solemn.

Four students stood behind him.

Zeng Qing, Zeng Xiu, Xu Miaoyun, and Fang Xiaoru stood in a row, like four pillars.

Of course, there were also the brothers Zhu Di and Zhu Su, who were always by Ma Wenyuan's side.

Fang Xiaoru is now holding a roster, which is the list of students who will be enrolling today.

Xiao Fang whispered to Ma Wenyuan.

"Teacher, there are 213 people present in total. Of the 371 descendants of soldiers who died in the conquest of Shu, 189 actually came. The rest either couldn't make it due to distance, had no relatives left, or..."

At this point, Fang Xiaoru paused and lowered his voice: "There are also those who are unwilling to come. They feel that the skills of craftsmen are inferior."

Ma Wenyuan nodded, showing no anger.

Of the 371 orphans, only half came.

That's not surprising.

It is said that of all professions, only studying is noble.

But we also need to consider the actual situation, right?

Some families may only have one able-bodied person. If they come to study, what will their family eat?

If Ma Wenyuan had run a proper private school, some people might have gritted their teeth and come here.

But it's clear that Ma Wenyuan's school can't afford to push those people to their limits.

Ma Wenyuan didn't blame them. He just felt it was a pity.

The other twenty-four were sons of Xun Gui.

Ma Wenyuan hadn't looked at the list; he'd visited their homes before.

He already knew who would come and who wouldn't.

"Let's begin," Ma Wenyuan said casually.

Fang Xiaoru cleared his throat, faced the crowd, unfolded the roster, and quickly began calling out names.

"Tang Yi!"

A boy of about fifteen or sixteen years old walked out of the crowd. He was fair-skinned and had a resemblance to Tang He in his features.

He cupped his hands in greeting to Ma Wenyuan and stood on the left.

This is Tang He's second son. Tang He's eldest son, Tang Ding, is currently working in the military.

"Chang Mao!"

Chang Mao strode out, wearing a brand-new black robe today. He stood up straight, but his expression still looked like he was "not too willing."

Chang Sheng and Chang Sen followed behind him; the three brothers stood together, looking quite neat.

"Liao Xin!"

A boy of thirteen or fourteen years old walked out. He was thin and small, but his gaze was steady, unlike his peers.

He was Liao Yongzhong's youngest son, and Ma Wenyuan glanced at him again.

Liao Yongzhong is a man of great merit but also has a bad temper, while his son is very low-key.

The roll call lasted for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.

Two hundred and thirteen names were read out one by one, and one by one, they walked out.

Some were tall, some were short, some were fat, some were thin, some were dressed in silk and satin, and some had patches upon patches on top of patches.

Two hundred and thirteen teenagers stood in a dark mass.

Looking at these faces, Ma Wenyuan suddenly remembered that in his previous life, when he was young, he was dozing off at the university opening ceremony while the principal was giving a speech on the stage.

Now the tables have turned, and it's his turn to take the stage.

Ma Wenyuan took two steps forward, without taking a manuscript or using a loud voice, and simply spoke as if it were an ordinary conversation.

"Some of you came in sedan chairs. Some of you came on foot. Some of you still have both parents at home, and your mothers sewed new clothes for you before you left."

"Some people are the only ones left in their families. Their father died in Sichuan, their mother remarried, and they were sent here by their uncles and aunts, or even walked here on their own."

The courtyard fell silent.