Chapter 219
Once the news reached Qinghe Academy, Master Tang and Master Yang could no longer remain calm.
The two went together to see Old Master Wu, saying that a talent like Fang Zichen absolutely must be recruited into the academy. Otherwise, in next year’s provincial exam, their academy would likely be embarrassed again.
If this happened repeatedly, the academy simply couldn't afford to lose any more face.
Old Master Wu sighed.
It was not that he did not want to recruit him. He had already hinted to Fang Zichen of his wish to bring him into the academy. But Fang Zichen's response was to say he would think it over. He had called their academy a 'black shop,' claiming its reputation was just self-praised hype from the people inside. He said he needed to investigate and see if it was good enough before he would come. There was nothing more he could do.
In the end, he had to resort to a last-ditch plan. Knowing Fang Zichen cared about face, he wrote to Jiang Zhengxu, telling him to give Fang Zichen a bit more incentive and spread the word more. Once Fang Zichen saw the benefits, it might not be long before he came rushing over eagerly.
He had figured out Fang Zichen's weak spot perfectly.
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He hadn't even thought of this originally. Now that someone was delivering money to his door, not having to do anything yet getting silver for free, Fang Zichen was overjoyed.
The yamen runners personally delivered it to his home. The villagers outside had never seen such a scene before. They only knew that passing the imperial examination was impressive, but they didn't have a concrete idea of just how impressive it was.
Now, seeing the yamen runners they usually feared, who made them stammer when speaking, bowing and scraping to Fang Zichen, they finally understood completely.
After the yamen runners left, everyone crowded around to offer their congratulations.
Most people in the village were straightforward—good was good, and their words were almost blunt. Though not as elegantly phrased as a scholar's, it still made Fang Zichen feel extremely pleased.
Once the crowd dispersed, Zhao Ger clung to him, his heart pounding: "Husband, you're amazing."
These words were even more direct, the admiration in his eyes obvious.
Zhao Ger wrapped his arms around his neck, made him lower his head, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him twice.
Fang Zichen was about to float away with joy.
Getting first place also earned him kisses.
He didn't get such good treatment after the prefectural exam. It seemed he should find an academy to prepare for the provincial exam.
Guaizai was still riding on Xiao Feng's back at this time, clamoring to kill a chicken for Fang Zichen to eat.
If they didn't kill one, he wouldn't be happy, saying that without a reward, his father wouldn't do well in the next exam.
Because last time his father did well on an exam, they killed a chicken to eat. So, clearly, killing a chicken was the reason his father passed this time as well.
They shouldn't spoil the ship for a ha'p'orth of tar.
Zhao Ger saw right through his little scheme. Guaizai spoke convincingly, but when talking about chicken, his saliva seemed about to spray three miles away. He kept swallowing, his throat probably already worn out from it. There was no other way; Zhao Ger took out several dozen copper coins and went to He Xiaodong's house to buy an old hen.
This hen was a bit old. Most of the time, people weren't willing to buy this kind of chicken to eat.
The problem was simply its age. Unless it was boiled for half a day after buying it, the meat would be impossible to chew, and it wasted a great deal of firewood in the process.
In truth, young chickens and old hens have much the same nutritional value. The meat of an old hen is tough and stringy, difficult to chew through. However, according to village tradition, a hen that had lived two or three years was believed to be rich in nourishment, had plenty of fat but weren't greasy, and were better than any pork or fish. Therefore, some families wanting to nourish themselves would occasionally buy one to eat.
Zhao Ger didn't know if it was true or not, but last time Aunt Liu went to town to visit Guaizai, she brought a stewed old hen that was soft and tender. She said this kind of chicken was the best to eat, very nourishing.
Zhao Ger had remembered it ever since.
Old hen feathers were not easy to pluck, as if they had taken root in the chicken's skin, especially the longest few at the tail tip. Zhao Ger grimaced while plucking them. Fang Zichen watched from the side, laughing. Zhao Ger glared at him, turned around, presenting his backside to him, and finally ran into the kitchen in a fluster before even finishing plucking the feathers.
He had to run; otherwise, his backside felt like it would burn a hole from that teasing gaze.
Fang Zichen laughed heartily in the yard.
After the old hen was plucked clean, gutted, and rinsed again, it was put whole into the pot to stew. Guaizai no longer thought about going out to play. Sitting upright like a model student in class, he stared unblinkingly at the fire by the stove, and sat like that the entire afternoon.
During this time, Fang Zichen peeked through the small window several times. Besides occasionally adding a piece of firewood to the stove, Guaizai would sometimes jump up to lift the pot lid, stretching his neck to look inside and see if the chicken was ready yet.
How greedy could he be?
A single chicken had the child so captivated he didn't even want to go out and play.
Fang Zichen sighed silently to himself.
Stewing a hen for soup—never mind anything else—just the smell wafting out was incredibly fragrant. In the afternoon, several women and fulangs who had gone to the river to kill ducks returned. As soon as they stepped into the yard, they smelled that overwhelming aroma. These people weren't the type to gossip or be jealous. If it were someone else, out of consideration for Fang Zichen and Zhao Ger, they might not say anything to their faces, but behind their backs, they would surely make comments.
Not during a festival or holiday, yet stewing chicken—even if they had earned silver, they shouldn't spend like this, so extravagantly. Having no elder at home was no good; young people didn't know how to manage a household.
But probably only a minority thought this way, since Fang Zichen's extravagance was something the villagers had already become numb to. Like during the New Year, he himself caught a full basket of fish—over thirty—enough to eat till the next zodiac year of the monkey.
Wang Damei had a meal at the Fang family and later chatted about it with others. There was chicken, duck, and fish. She didn't have any ulterior thoughts; she just wanted to talk about how well the Fang family was living now.
Before, when Fang Zichen had no job, people pitied Zhao Ger, saying he had jumped from one pit of fire into another, destined to a life of serving others. Later, when Fang Zichen got a job, people envied Zhao Ger, saying he had good fortune, attaching himself to such a person. Later, when everyone learned he had started his own business by purchasing chilies and garlic from the villagers, they finally understood. His current standing wasn't because he had latched onto someone else for support.
The Fang family being able to live this well now was the result of the young couple's joint efforts; it wasn't achieved by Fang Zichen alone. Three taels of silver a month was a lot, but they still shouldn't eat like this! Wang Damei's private wish was to let those few gossipy villagers in the village stop looking down on Zhao Ger.
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