Transmigrated into a minor official in a county government, with children at home waiting for rice t

The eldest brother, Zhang Shouren, spoke the loudest: "This time at the prefectural school, the teacher praised Silang in front of everyone, saying that his poetry and prose have greatly improved. He will surely pass the provincial examination next year."

Mr. Zhang's voice was clear and resonant: "Does the gentleman truly say so?"

Fourth Brother Zhang Shouzhi put down his wine glass and straightened his back slightly.

At sixteen, he had a fair complexion and a haughty air about him, the kind of pride that comes with reading a few books.

"The gentleman said that one couplet in my essay 'Pacifying the Barbarians' was somewhat acceptable."

Zhang Shouren eagerly chimed in, "Which couplet? Read it to our parents."

Zhang Shouzhi cleared his throat: "The bow is like a full moon, shooting down the barbarian horses beyond the Yin Mountains. The sword is as cold as frost, slaying the Xiongnu chieftain on the shores of the vast sea."

After finishing reading, his gaze drifted towards the doorway, intentionally or unintentionally.

"Excellent!" Zhang Shouren exclaimed, "With this momentum, our Zhang family will have to rely on Silang from now on."

Zhang Shouzhi lowered his eyes: "Brother, you flatter me. It's just a few simple sentences."

"Listen to this," Zhang Shouren laughed, "this humility really makes him seem like a scholar who has passed the imperial examination."

Mr. Zhang smiled reservedly.

The door was pushed open.

The laughter stopped abruptly.

A traditional Chinese eight-immortal table was filled to the brim.

Mr. Zhang sat facing south in the only official's hat chair in the house, while Mrs. Zhang sat next to him on a stool, setting out the dishes.

The eldest brother is on the left and the fourth brother is on the right.

Bao Ge'er was sitting next to his father, gnawing on a chicken leg.

In the center of the pot is stewed mutton, the broth is thick and white, and the aroma of cinnamon and star anise overpowers the mutton's gamey smell.

Next to it was a plate of steamed mandarin fish, its eyes bulging out, steamed just right.

Four crab-stuffed oranges are arranged on a plate, the orange peels slightly charred.

The roast chicken was torn into pieces, and the rabbit breast was sliced ​​thinly and drizzled with sauce.

There was also a large bowl of matsutake mushroom and tofu soup, two plates of seasonal vegetables, and a dish of candied dates and pears.

Qingge'er's eyes were fixed on that pot of mutton.

Zhang Shouren's chopsticks held a piece of chicken, suspended in mid-air.

Zhang Shouzhi's hand, which was holding a wine glass, stopped at his lips.

Zhang's father's gaze fell on Zhang Sanlang, and the smile on his face seemed to have been sucked away from underneath, slowly fading away until only a layer of gentleness remained on the surface.

"Sanlang is awake?"

"woke up."

Zhang Sanlang led his two children inside, his gaze sweeping over the food on the table without pausing.

Zhang Shouren snapped out of his daze, a smile quickly spreading across his face. "Sanlang, you're finally awake! We thought you'd be in bed for ten days or half a month. Look at your complexion, you should rest more."

"I sent him," Zhang's father interrupted. "Si Lang is back, let's have a family reunion dinner. Since you can get up, please sit down."

His gaze shifted to the two children beside Zhang Sanlang.

I glanced at it once and then looked away.

happy Mei and Qing Ge stood awkwardly next to Lin Du.

Zhang Shouren followed Qingge'er's gaze and chuckled, "Ximei, Qingge'er, you're here too? Come, come, sit down. Baoge'er, make room."

Bao Ge'er was gnawing on a chicken leg when he reluctantly moved a little further into the bowl, his eyes never leaving the meat inside.

happy Mei glanced at Lin Du.

Seeing him nod, she carefully sat down next to Bao Ge'er and pulled her younger brother to her side.

No extra bowls or chopsticks were added to the table.

Zhang Shouren, perhaps feeling that things were getting out of hand, called out to the kitchen, "Wang Mama, bring two more sets of bowls and chopsticks."

A moment later, a burly female servant came in carrying a bowl and chopsticks.

She glanced at Zhang Sanlang, put the bowl and chopsticks on the corner of the table, and turned to leave.

Qing Ge'er's gaze was still fixed on the chicken, his fingers digging into the edge of the table, mud under his fingernails.

happy Mei stared at the empty bowl in front of her, swallowed hard but dared not pick up any food.

Zhang Sanlang stretched out his chopsticks and picked up a chicken leg.

Zhang Shouren's smile faltered.

Zhang's father paused for a moment as he held the wine glass.

The piece of meat ended up in Qingge's bowl.

Qingge raised his head, his eyes almost bursting with light.

But he didn't eat immediately; he looked at Zhang's father.

"Eat. Your grandfather loves his grandson, so he saved a big chicken leg for you and Bao-ge'er each." Zhang Sanlang twitched the corner of his mouth.

Qingge lowered his head, stuffed half a chicken leg into his mouth, and puffed out his cheeks like a squirrel.

Zhang Sanlang picked up another piece of chicken breast and put it into Ximei'er's bowl.

happy Mei raised her head, her eyes reddening.

"Eat. Your grandfather loves his granddaughter too."

Zhang Shouren coughed, his smile fading slightly: "Sanlang, don't just focus on the children, eat some too. This chicken was specially stewed by your sister-in-law, with lots of medicinal herbs in it."

As she spoke, she placed a piece of cabbage on Zhang Sanlang's plate.

Zhang Sanlang took the chopsticks and picked up the cabbage, but set it aside without eating it.

He picked up a piece of roasted pork and a piece of steamed fish, his chopsticks flying across the table, piling the oiliest pieces into the two children's bowls.

Mr. Zhang frowned.

Zhang Shouren's chopsticks froze in mid-air, unsure where to land.

Zhang Shouzhi put down his wine cup and sat up straight: "Third Brother, I have something to say."

"Speak," Zhang Sanlang said without looking up. He dipped his chopsticks into the casserole, scooped out a piece of mutton with the bone, and put it in Qingge'er's bowl. Then he reached for half a flatbread, stirred it in the mutton broth, and stuffed it into his mouth.

Qingge held the bone in both hands and gnawed on it, oil dripping from between his fingers.

The mandarin fish meat in Ximei'er's bowl was piled high.

She didn't dare to look up, only taking small bites with her chopsticks.

Zhang Shouzhi paused, shifting his gaze from the greasy look at the corner of his mouth. "Next month is the annual examination for the state school. If you rank highly, you can be recommended to participate in next year's preliminary examination."

"Recently, I've been socializing with my classmates, and we've inevitably discussed family backgrounds. Could we perhaps set aside the matter of my third brother's job in the government office for now? The Analects says, 'A gentleman is ashamed of his words exceeding his actions.' Although my third brother's job is practical, in the scholarly community, it is ultimately..."

Zhang Sanlang picked up a piece of wild rabbit meat with his chopsticks, stuffed it into his mouth, and chewed it noisily. Then he picked up the wine pot, poured himself half a bowl of wine, tilted his head back, took a gulp, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

He finally looked up at Zhang Shouzhi. The table was already half empty.

The mutton hot pot was almost empty, only a spine remained of the mandarin fish, and the plate of rabbit breast was left with just a puddle of sauce. The bones in front of Ximei were piled neatly. Qingge was licking his fingers.

Zhang Sanlang had also gotten a good meal. "You studied at the state school, learning the principles of sages. Did the sages teach you to speak to your elder brother like that?"

Zhang Shouzhi's face turned pale.

Zhang Shouren quickly tried to smooth things over: "Fourth Brother, really! Your Third Brother's job is a legitimate one..."

"Don't talk while eating or sleeping; don't discuss these things while eating," Zhang Sanlang said.

Zhang Shouzhi's face went from white to red, then back to white. He wanted to say something, but was silenced by a look from his father.

The group ate in silence for a while, and only after Zhang Sanlang was completely full did he put down his chopsticks.

His gaze swept across the table and landed on the low table against the wall.

There was a rough earthenware pot there, filled with stewed meat, and several flatbreads were stacked on the lid, half-covered with a cloth.

He guessed that his sister-in-law had saved it for tomorrow.